Title: Tender moments

Rating: G

Pairing / Characters: mild Inoue / Ichigo

Word Count: 727 words

Warnings: No spoilers I can imagine

Summary: Ichigo tends to an injured Inoue

A/N: For those of you who read ditzy but sweet, you'll probably guess that this is how I see Inoue – she talks too fast, has a crazy imagination, and is totally in love with Ichigo – who I see as one of the only people with the patience to deal with her. This is pure fluff, but I think it's one of those stories that make you go aaaawwww when you read it. I did and I wrote it

A sigh. 'What the hell did you do?'

A bright, cheery smile. 'I fell down the stairs.'

Another, deeper sigh. 'Again?'

A frown. 'Gomen'nasai, Kurosaki-kun.'

A third, resigned sigh. 'Inoue…'

A perpetual frown on his face, Ichigo studied Inoue, sitting on the stairs, left ankle swollen, the knuckled of her right hand bruised and bloodied, several scratches on her cheek.

'Moron,' he muttered, without heat.

It was typical of Inoue- despite the fact that she could basically turn back time and heal anything, she was, with the exception of Asano Keigo, the clumsiest person he had ever known. She was also, unfortunately, the only person who could make him feel like a total heel without even trying.

This was one of those times.

Ichigo knelt down beside the stairs and pried her fingers away from her ankle, gently pressing against the folds of blue tinged skin. Inoue winced involuntarily, and without word, Ichigo examined her hand, and then her cheek.

'Come on, let's get you to the clinic so I can clean you up.'

Inoue blinked. 'It's raining, Kurosaki-kun.'

'I know. I'll carry you – just hold the umbrella so you don't get wet.'

The walk home was smoother than Ichigo expected. Other than the rapidly growing puddles, nothing hampered him. Inoue was nothing more than a slight weight against his back, her damp hair brushing against his cheek. As he walked, Inoue spun dreamy tales in his ear about rain drops, where they went when they fell out of the clouds and what adventures they had. Ichigo found the sound of her soft laughter oddly soothing as she realized that she had been talking a mile a minute.

The Kurosaki clinic was mercifully, empty.

Karin and Yuzu were not due home for at least another hour, and Isshun was "helping" at the local hospital. In Ichigo's mind, it was not so much as helping as the chance to boss other people around.

Setting Inoue gently on the table, Ichigo bustled around, gathering supplies and laying them out, his socks squelching on the floor.

Inoue tilted her head. 'You're squishing, Kurosaki-kun. It sounds funny.'

Ichigo slanted a smile her way. 'What does it sound like?'

'Um… like a frog with a sore throat.' Her eyes brightened. 'Like maybe he was playing in the water and mama frog called him but he wouldn't listen and he played until the water until it got dark and cold and then he went inside and woke up the next morning with a sore throat and he couldn't go to school.'

Ichigo laughed aloud. 'Or… he spent too much time playing hide and seek and was always the one who had to count so he lost his voice.'

As he spoke, he applied an ointment to her ankle, keeping her distracted enough so he could wrap the bandage around it.

Inoue was warming to the topic. 'Maybe he's a daddy frog who always has to read bedtime stories to his children and the more he reads the more his throat hurts. Ne, Kurosaki-kun – did your dad read you bedtime stories?'

Ichigo glanced up sharply, but there was no sadness in Inoue's eyes.

'Nah. He read to Karin sometimes, but mostly to Yuzu. Now she reads to him.'

'How come? Didn't you want bedtime stories? Does Kurosaki-kun hate stories?'

Ichigo shook his head. 'I like your stories.'

Inoue went pink and watched him smoothing ointment onto her knuckles. When he straightened and began to tend to the scratches on her cheek, Inoue hastily began to talk about what she had had for lunch, how Tatsuki-chan had beaten up Chizuru again, how Kuchiki-san had eaten the chocolate, lettuce and ham rice cakes she had made.

'There you are. All done.' Ichigo brushed the hair away from the ointment on her cheek and applied a plaster carefully.

Inoue looked shyly at him. 'Arigato, Kurosaki-kun. You always come to my rescue when I'm so clumsy. I don't know how to say thank you…'

Ichigo pulled on his shoes and motioned for Inoue to climb onto his back. 'You can tell me another story while I take you home.'

As they walked through the wet streets, Inoue chattering about rainbows and clouds, Ichigo mused that sometimes, Inoue managed to make him feel like a heel. The rest of the time, she made him feel like a hero.

Moron.