There was no room for doubt, to dream that it was all just a dream after all. An angel, an alien, and the student council president were all sitting at a dining table together in the middle of an asylum. If it was a very elaborate joke, then she'd yet to see the punchline, or she missed it and she should've laughed at the very beginning when they offered live pigs wrapped in blankets for breakfast and piled sausages onto their plates instead. Maybe she should've been laughing now -- about the wingless angel, about the fact Ishida-kun smelled awfully tropical, about the monsters Lloyd encountered last night like haha, oh yes we have a lot of those back home, too, who'd have thought.
"Ah," she replied somewhat lamely instead, and resisted the urge to make a fuss when she was dismissed by both Ishida-kun and Lloyd (-san, because even if he was from an alien planet, it didn't feel quite right for her to remove the suffix). And maybe she didn't understand what was so difficult to understand, that she'd seen worse and that she understood and was concerned after their health regardless. It was getting to be a trend, she noticed -- back home and not long ago, too, Ishida-kun had refused her offer to heal him, and she wondered if it was really so concerning that others would concern her.
Despite her wandering train of thought, Orihime had no trouble following the conversation, keeping in mind the important details. The alien gadgetry-- um, Exspheres were of noted interest; Landel's machine, too (Landel -- such a harmless name for a dangerous place); there were monsters and power restrictions and it was all a very serious matter. And although she'd been through worse, been through purgatory and back, she was still the girl who had once wished for normal if it meant that all of her friends would stay out of harm's way.
Orihime closed her eyes, brows furrowing as she accepted, and that was the end of that. Ishida-kun commented on her abilities, and she lifted her face, eyes widening.
"Oh, I'm really not-" She started, even if it was a half-hearted attempt to humble herself. After all, ever since she'd been told about the fact, Orihime had already settled on the fact that, once night fell, whatever limits Landel had placed on her powers would not prevent her from healing Lloyd-san's and Ishida-kun's injuries, both.
So, instead of lying, she settled on the next best thing: "Ishida-kun," she said, with absolute severity if not for the way her eyes seemed to crinkle at the edges with a hidden smile. "If you're not going to practice what you preach, I'm not going to give you my fruit cup."
Which then begged the question of why she wasn't eating very much of anything, either.
"... I guess I'm not really hungry," she admitted, abruptly dropping the piece of breading that she was currently worrying between her fingers. And though it was not entirely true, the smell of syrup was a sickening kind of sweet when it mixed with the persistent bandaid smell that stuck to the air -- a constant reminder of where they were. She tried though, popping one of the hotdogs into her mouth, holding her breath as she swallowed and somehow managing not to choke.
"Ishida-kun," she began, firm-toned despite herself, "why do you know so much?" And how, and when did you arrive, and why did you style your hair differently, and--
She never voiced the multitude of questions at once -- how could she? -- but condensed in her worried expression was the most troublesome question of all.
no subject
"Ah," she replied somewhat lamely instead, and resisted the urge to make a fuss when she was dismissed by both Ishida-kun and Lloyd (-san, because even if he was from an alien planet, it didn't feel quite right for her to remove the suffix). And maybe she didn't understand what was so difficult to understand, that she'd seen worse and that she understood and was concerned after their health regardless. It was getting to be a trend, she noticed -- back home and not long ago, too, Ishida-kun had refused her offer to heal him, and she wondered if it was really so concerning that others would concern her.
Despite her wandering train of thought, Orihime had no trouble following the conversation, keeping in mind the important details. The alien gadgetry-- um, Exspheres were of noted interest; Landel's machine, too (Landel -- such a harmless name for a dangerous place); there were monsters and power restrictions and it was all a very serious matter. And although she'd been through worse, been through purgatory and back, she was still the girl who had once wished for normal if it meant that all of her friends would stay out of harm's way.
Orihime closed her eyes, brows furrowing as she accepted, and that was the end of that. Ishida-kun commented on her abilities, and she lifted her face, eyes widening.
"Oh, I'm really not-" She started, even if it was a half-hearted attempt to humble herself. After all, ever since she'd been told about the fact, Orihime had already settled on the fact that, once night fell, whatever limits Landel had placed on her powers would not prevent her from healing Lloyd-san's and Ishida-kun's injuries, both.
So, instead of lying, she settled on the next best thing: "Ishida-kun," she said, with absolute severity if not for the way her eyes seemed to crinkle at the edges with a hidden smile. "If you're not going to practice what you preach, I'm not going to give you my fruit cup."
Which then begged the question of why she wasn't eating very much of anything, either.
"... I guess I'm not really hungry," she admitted, abruptly dropping the piece of breading that she was currently worrying between her fingers. And though it was not entirely true, the smell of syrup was a sickening kind of sweet when it mixed with the persistent bandaid smell that stuck to the air -- a constant reminder of where they were. She tried though, popping one of the hotdogs into her mouth, holding her breath as she swallowed and somehow managing not to choke.
"Ishida-kun," she began, firm-toned despite herself, "why do you know so much?" And how, and when did you arrive, and why did you style your hair differently, and--
She never voiced the multitude of questions at once -- how could she? -- but condensed in her worried expression was the most troublesome question of all.
Did the aliens do something to you?