Chapter 56: An Attempt at Comfort
Narrator POV.
Hours later…
Akira was kneeling on one knee, one hand pressed against his chest as sweat ran down his face and dripped onto the ground. He was panting, forcing his breathing to stabilize. His body trembled slightly from overexertion.
He had been training without rest, pushing his body's limits far beyond what was prudent. But it wasn't his muscles that suffered the most… it was his heart.
Forcing the Heart-Explosion Release Fist wasn't like training legs or abs; it was like pushing the engine that kept him alive. The heart wasn't a muscle you could train through repetitions… it was the core of everything. And if it failed, the entire system would collapse.
—Huff… huff… Now I understand why Garou, in his human form, never managed to use this martial art… It's incredibly complicated. —he murmured, struggling to control his breathing.
Bang had undoubtedly been a genius. Creating a martial art that drew power from the heart's own rhythm, from the very flow of life itself… wasn't something just anyone could do. It was a technique as dangerous as it was brilliant.
Akira looked up, alert at the sound of soft footsteps among the bushes. His gaze relaxed slightly when he saw the figure emerging from between the trees.
Orihime walked cautiously, looking around with a worried expression. She hadn't noticed him yet, but it was clear she was searching for him.
—Oh… there you are. —her voice softened when she saw him, and a warm smile appeared on her face… but it didn't last long.
Her eyes widened slightly as she realized Akira's condition. He was shirtless, his torso covered in sweat, marked by defined muscles and subtle scars—proof of training and battle. The moonlight filtering through the branches made his skin glow faintly, and his heavy breathing only intensified the effect.
—U-uh… uh… —she began to stammer, as red rushed up her cheeks, spreading across her face and all the way to her ears… then over her entire face.
She didn't know where to look. Her eyes tried to focus on his face, but almost against her will they drifted to his chest, his shoulders, his abdomen…
Akira, without losing his composure, raised an eyebrow with a faintly amused smile. Despite his exhaustion, his teasing instinct was still there.
—Is something wrong, Orihime? Am I that ugly?
—W-why… why aren't you wearing a shirt…? —Orihime managed to ask, her trembling voice barely above a whisper.
She tried to look away—she really did—but her eyes refused to obey her. Again and again, they traced Akira's torso, as if her mind couldn't register anything else.
—Well… like I told you, I came to train. I wanted to polish a few things. —Akira replied naturally as he let himself fall into a seated position on the ground, stretching his legs to relax.
The cool night air brushed against his sweat-soaked body, helping soothe the burning in his overworked muscles. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the silence do its work.
Orihime took a few steps toward him, slowly, as if she were afraid of interrupting something sacred. She had never felt so nervous just approaching someone… but this was different. It wasn't only because Akira was attractive—he undeniably was—but because of the energy around him. Dark, powerful, and yet… at that moment, calm.
—I… I came to see how you were doing. You left without eating… and I got worried. —she confessed, fidgeting with her fingers, not daring to look at him directly.
Akira opened his eyes slightly, surprised for a moment. Before, he wouldn't have cared if someone worried about him. He had always been alone, with no one waiting for him to return or asking if he was okay. But now… now it felt warm, comforting. Orihime radiated something he hadn't had since his previous life: genuine affection.
—I'm fine. —Akira said with a soft, sincere smile, free of sarcasm or mockery.—Thank you for worrying about me.
Orihime noticed the change in his expression, and her heart gave a small flutter. That smile… it was real. Not the confident, teasing mask Akira usually wore, but something more human. More vulnerable.
—So, how's carrot-man doing with his training? —Akira asked afterward, letting out a light laugh as he turned his head toward her.
—Ichigo… well, he's still struggling to create a barrier with his spiritual energy. When I left, he was still trying. —she replied with a small giggle, though her tone grew more serious at the end.
She bit her lower lip, lowering her gaze for a moment, as if hesitating to continue.
—A-Akira… that knight from yesterday… was he yours? A summon… like mine?
The question fell softly, but it was heavy with uncertainty. It was clear that the figure she had seen the previous night had left an impression on her—not only because of its power, but because of what it seemed to imply about Akira.
—Something like that. —Akira replied as he wiped the sweat from his face with his own shirt, already soaked from exertion.
His voice was calm, though it still carried a faint echo of contained exhaustion. His eyes, however, remained serene as he continued speaking.
—The knight you saw is called Igris. He's very strong… and very loyal. —he added, a note of respect in his voice.—Why do you ask?
There was no suspicion in his tone, only honest curiosity. He hadn't expected Orihime to take an interest in his shadows; not many did.
Orihime immediately lowered her gaze upon hearing the name. Her hands trembled slightly as a memory struck her with force: that day, the Hollows, the desperation, and the black figure that appeared like lightning in the midst of chaos.
—I-it's just… that knight… —her voice cracked slightly.
She clearly remembered the moment the Hollow had used Tatsuki as a human shield, and how, for an instant, she thought she was going to lose her. Her chest tightened just imagining what would have happened if he hadn't appeared.
Her eyes began to moisten, but she struggled not to let the tears fall. She didn't want to appear weak in front of someone like Akira… someone so strong, so resolute.
—He… he was the one who saved Tatsuki and Ami… —she said, quickly wiping away a lone tear that escaped with the back of her hand.—If he hadn't arrived at that moment…
She stopped. The mental image of her best friend being pierced, her lifeless body, was enough to knot her stomach.
Without saying a word, Akira straightened slightly and gently placed his hand on Orihime's head. She looked up at him, her eyes wet as she recalled the day she had almost lost Tatsuki.
It wasn't a rushed or awkward gesture. It was… human. Warm. Filled with silent understanding. And calm—because Akira knew just how emotional Orihime could be.
A few seconds passed in silence, Akira's heartbeat setting the rhythm of that suspended moment. There was no need for words. Akira didn't promise that everything would be okay, and she didn't ask him to.
—Orihime… don't think about the "what ifs." —Akira's voice was soft, calm, yet understanding of her state.—It didn't happen. And because of that… you don't have to blame yourself.
His fingers gently slid through the orange strands of Orihime's hair, a gesture as tender as it was soothing. There was no rush or pressure—only sincere warmth.
Akira knew that kind of look well. Orihime didn't say it out loud, but he had noticed it. Her habit of taking on blame that wasn't hers. That tendency to belittle herself, to believe she wasn't enough or that she was just in the way. And that… that was something he couldn't allow.
Not when it came to someone like her.
—Y-you sent him? —Orihime asked in a trembling voice, referring to Igris.
—Yes. —Akira answered without hesitation, knowing in that moment that something had to change with his presence in this world.—I sent him to protect you. I had a bad feeling… I sensed something might go wrong, and I couldn't risk anything happening to you.
He closed his eyes for a moment. He had been right. And if not for his foresight, things would have turned out very differently that day. Orihime, meanwhile, was thinking of other things.
How could she ever thank him enough? Not only for saving Tatsuki, but for thinking of her when no one else did, for worrying about her even when he wasn't there. Beyond powers, beyond combat… that was what truly touched Orihime's heart.
And for the first time in a long while, her chest filled with a warm, comforting joy. Knowing that someone like Akira cared about her, thought about her safety even from afar… made her feel valuable. Important. Seen.
In silence, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to stay there, with Akira smiling softly at her, his fingers brushing through her orange hair in a calming gesture. Because even though Akira often seemed to care only about himself, he truly couldn't remain indifferent to the problems of people as kind and good as Orihime.
He wasn't good with words, so he simply did what he could—a gentle pat on her head to remind her that he was there. After all, Akira had been antisocial… so comforting a girl didn't come easily to him.
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End of the chapter.