Night Deepened

The corridor lights were dim and hazy. Ross strolled through, then pushed open the closed bedroom door.

No lamp burned inside. Only moonlight spilled through the paper window, casting a cold white glow.

In that pool of light, Inoue Orihime still wore her slightly oversized Shinigami uniform. She knelt in the middle of the tatami, her face full of apprehension.

Her restless hands gripped the hem of her clothes like a prisoner awaiting judgment.

At the sound of the door opening, Orihime sprang to her feet like a startled rabbit, her generous chest bouncing wildly.

When she saw Ross standing there unharmed, her face went deathly pale.

"M-Mr. Ross! What happened to Kurosaki?"

She could not forget what she had seen before she left.

Kurosaki Ichigo, transformed into a monster, had charged at the man before her in desperation.

Since Ross now stood there without a scratch, Ichigo's fate seemed obvious.

"Him..."

Ross took his time approaching her, his tall frame easily casting a shadow over her. He bent slightly and lifted Orihime's delicate chin with his fingertips, forcing her to look up.

"Don't worry. That lucky kid should be doing fine. He's probably alive and well right now."

Orihime visibly relaxed.

But Ross's free hand moved upward. With a faint warmth, he gently stroked her soft cheek, his tone turning playful and dangerous.

"Only because someone paid for his recklessness and even stepped in to save him, whatever the cost. But, Inoue Orihime..."

His fingertips slid down her cheek and came to rest beside her vulnerable throat. His voice dropped.

"On a night when the hero has fallen, who's going to save you?"

"As long as Kurosaki's all right... Thank goodness..."

The unfamiliar touch on her face and the oppressive presence that made her legs weak sent a tremor