@masked-strawberry
“…Right.”
Ichigo’s voice was hushed, attempting to not wake the entire house. He sighed a little, sweat dripping down his back. Still, she had a point. He felt like hell - but it was only a fever. The teen figured he’d get over it by morning, and if not - he’d still do the Shinigami Activities and school regardless.
“Thanks, but go back to bed. It was…nothing.” Sure, from the look on her face he’d not exactly been quiet on what he’d been dreaming about - things involving hollows, his mother and his family, no less.
“Seriously. I’ll be fine.” Ichigo cleared his throat, making a mental note to go change his night clothes, at least.
With her brows furrowed and a frown on her face, she seemed anything but sleepy as her arm reached out to touch his arm, and her mouth opened to speak. Of course a part of her wants to ask what exactly happened in his dream; she had heard pieces, parts that even sounded like she had heard them before on their night of meeting, but she knew those weren’t things you shared so freely when they got this personal. His words interrupt her thoughts and she lets her arm fall to her side.
Rukia had only been so calm now because this was so familiar to her-- the rapid rising and falling of his chest, paired with the reddened cheeks and squinting eyes; it wasn’t something you couldn’t hide. Not that she ever talked about it, but with the heat and lack of real shelter in Rukongai, fevers and illness were quite common amongst her group, and it was usual for those symptoms to be a premeditation for death. Which is why it pissed her off for him to take it so lightly. As if he could take this on his own-- this wasn’t some hollow or fight to be had with the sword! Her fist clench as she’s gone past the point of being careful how much she raises her voice.
“As if I could go back to bed after that! You must really be an idiot if you think I’m just going to leave a fool like you to deal with his fever by himself!“ She’d be stubborn about this if it was the last thing she did. Instead of waiting, she sets forth orders like one of her teacher’s in the academy to her as a student. At least after that last outburst she has recovered enough decency to lower her voice.
“Go get changed and lay back in bed, I’ll be there in a second. And look at it this way, you let me deal with it, then you won’t have to worry your father or sisters.“
