She was at it again.

Her face was downcast, but her warm brown eyes cut a beeline to the back of his orange tufts that spiked out in every possible direction. She sat at the back of the class, while he sat closer to the front, somewhat nervously twiddling her thumbs or playing with her hair–whatever. She was almost always looking at him, regardless. She adored him, and Ishida knew that. That's not what irked him. It was that Ichigo never looked back. She could bat those thick eyelashes and flash her contagious smile all she wanted. Ichigo didn't turn around to look at her, not once. Sure, they were friends. The relationship just about stopped there. That's why Ishida was annoyed–Ichigo was an idiot. How could he not notice her, when she's just so–well–noticeable?

Orihime was always kind, always softening even the hardest of hearts. She was smart; top of her class. She almost snapped necks as she walked down the halls, with her red hair tumbling to her waist, the daydreaming expression she had in her eys, among many other physical assets that made her much made her Karakura High's idol. It baffled Ishida. He assumed that Ichigo was just an power-hungry idiot, and that when (not "if") Ichigo noticed her, he would never be able to see anything else. Watching Orihime wait around made him cringe, though.

You could see it in the way she looked at him that she had it bad. Her cheeks would flush a baby pink and she'd bite her lower lip while watching him pass by, and the pained expression she wore when he was close to Rukia could make anyone wince. There had always been speculation around campus that Ichigo and Rukia were an item, although the two denied it adamantly when confronted on the matter. The rumors didn't stop them from staying by each other's side, though, and it certainly didn't stop Orihime from clutching the end of her skirt and turning away to hide glossy eyes when Ichigo passed by with the tiny death god next to him.

A loud riiiiing erupted in the classroom. In a flurry, a horde of students gathered their belongings and hurried for the door. Ishida, glancing at his fellow classmates trying to squeeze out of the doorway, fixed his glasses before neatly packing his notebooks. He didn't understand the rush everyone took to get out and do practically nothing. Amongst the parade of obnoxious teenagers was Ichigo, the head of orange hair serving as an identifier. Ishida turned his vision to Orihime. Just as he thought. Her eyes were rapidly shifting, pushing the red bangs out of her eyes to see none other than Kurosaki. Of course. No, something was different this time. She was searching for him, on her tiptoes, as if she were desperately trying to keep track of him. The Kurosaki was out of sight at that point, though–whatever Orihime was going to do, she was going to have to hurry.

It didn't concern Ishida in any way, however, so he threw the satchel over his shoulder and stepped towards the door.

"Oi, Orihime. What're you doing today after school?" a voice came from behind him. Ishida briefly turned. It was Tatsuki, addressing Orihime. Again, another matter that didn't concern him.

"Ehehe, ah, I'm going to, I have to go, so..." Orihime stuttered nervously, her face growing that familiar shade of pink.

"Had a feeling." Tatsuki said sardonically, patting her best friend on the back before turning away.

"Eh–"

"Go get 'im, Orihime." Tatsuki made a fist. "I've got softball practice. See ya." Tatsuki smirked and left, brushing past Ishida. Orihime chuckled nervously. At this point, all the other students had cleared the room.

"Bye, Inoue." Ishida said flatly, one hand on the doorway, one gripping his satchel's strap, which hung loosely around his shoulder. He looked over his shoulder at Orihime, who was fumbling hurriedly through her bag, causing the sound of crinkling cellophane.

"Oh, Ishida, I didn't notice you there! Um, bye! See you tomor"– Orihime didn't get to finish. She was interrupted by a soft thud and more crinkling. Ishida twisted around. Orihime collapsed into a crouch and tried to get a few plastic-wrapped, purple-ribbon adorned baguettes out of sight as quickly as possible. Without a moment's hesitation, Ishida found himself stooped over some scattered bread. "Aha, I'm such a stupid klutz sometimes, sorry, Ishida." Orihime said with a half-hearted giggle and that fake smile that made an appearance more and more often as of late. Ishida stared down at the last baguette as he handed it to Orihime.

"You're not stupid." He muttered. He cleared his throat before he continued. "But you'd better hurry." He said, motioning with a jerk of his head towards the door.

Orihime froze and locked eyes with Ishida with a look that could have been either something as simple a surprise or something as dramatic as horror–with her eyes almost plate-like and her lips parted, it was hard to tell. In a second, she had tightened her jaw and knit her eyebrows together; a face that would have looked a little scary had it not been for the blush across the bridge of her nose. Orihime clutched her satchel to her chest and lifted herself up with the edge of a desk, and gave Ishida a stiff nod.

"Yeah." She grunted, turning towards the doorway.

Ishida wasn't even expecting her to pick up on such a subtle hint that he knew about her transparent feelings for Ichigo, but it was evident that she must have.

Orihime froze once again, this time in mid-stride to the door. Ishida, still sitting cross-legged on the carpet, looked up.

"Thank you, Ishida." Her soft voice emerged from behind a curtain of red hair.

Ishida smiled. So he hadn't rocked the boat too much.

"Yeah, anytime."

By the time he had finished his sentenced, Orihime was out the door. Ishida listened to the skid of her loafers against the tile of the hallways. The school was empty now; it was unlikely she would catch him unless she ran.

Ishida huffed. This was really another issue that was none of his business, but he couldn't help but hope and worry, just a little bit. Orihime was a dear friend of his, and she had loved Ichigo for years now. How could he not hold out hope for her as she ran to give him her special bread?

Regardless, Ishida needed to get home at some point, so he patted his pant legs as he rose, roped his satchel around his shoulder, and pushed up his glasses before beginning the leisurely walk to his apartment.

As he made his way down the hallway, he was was a little surprised at the lack of students. There was a lone student every once in a while that was given cleaning duty, or one sulkily heading off to detention. Everyone else had cleared the building, even Orihime. Evening sunlight seeped through the building's orifices, covering everything in a hazy orange glow. Ishida picked up his pace a bit at the sight of the exit, extending his arm to push the glass door open. It was only as he was descending down the school's steps did he hear a muffled whimper from his left.

Ishida skidded to a stop, confused at the sound. Nothing was down the pathway, no one was in the courtyard, and it certainly wasn't the sound of a small animal. He searched everywhere for the source, before he heard a quiet sniffle. This time, out of the corner, he caught a glimmer of auburn hair. Ishida swung his body to the left and looked over the edge of the concrete stair case.

Sure enough, there was the unmistakable top of the head of Orihime, buried into her knees. The sniffling continued, and she hugged her knees tighter to her chest. Ishida stared blankly for a moment; already aware of what had to have happened.

"Inoue?" Ishida interjected. The sniffling halted, and Orihime's head flew up as she drew in a sharp breath to stare at a dumbfounded Ishida, stray hairs sticking to her tear-stained face. Orihime got that look of horror-surprise again and stood up promptly, her bag clutched tightly as if it were a child's stuffed bear.

"Ishida." Her voice wavered. She didn't look at him; she was busy using her fist to wipe away tears and snot. She shakily wiped the back of her hand against her skirt before turning to him. She lifted her eyes to meet Ishida's steely blue ones. Her chin quivered just a bit before she feigned a smile.

"What..What are you doing here, Ishida? You surprised me!" She took her sleeve to her face, wiping away the tears still pooling in her eyes, before wrapping both arms around her bag held in front of her stomach.

Ishida didn't know how to respond to her obviously fake attitude, especially given that he knew exactly what happened. He touched the bridge of his nose tentatively before answering.

"You're going to squish your bread." He mumbled as he drew his hand away from his face. He sounded stiff; it was not because he was cold, but because the situation was so damn awkward for him.

"Huh?" Orihime said, clumsily attempting to put the bag behind her. Solemnly, she looked at the satchel.

"Oh, right. The bread," Orihime said, the hint of sadness in her voice presenting itself. "It's ruined. I mean, it's like a day old, anyways..." Any effort Orihime made to conceal her real feelings vanished in that second: her face fell to look at the bag cradled in her arms before she sprung up again. "So, it doesn't matter!" She said in a forcedly cheerful way, giving her classic smile; head tilt included.

Ishida, of course, wasn't convinced. He looked at the bag, which had Orihime's fingernails digging into it. He let out a small sigh, which let Orihime know that he was definitely not fooled. Her eyebrows raised and her worry was clear.

"Let me see." He said quietly, gingerly pulling the satchel towards him with his index finger. Orihime, at first, didn't take her hands off the bag, but it only took a matter of seconds for her to give in. At first, she didn't know what to do with her hands, so they flailed a bit before relaxing into a crossed-arms position, one hand covering her mouth. She looked away as Ishida pried open the flap to see the baguettes, with kinks in their side and ribbons askew. Some were even broken in half. Ishida couldn't help but smile. The bread was malformed, but totally edible.

"They look pretty good to me." Ishida noted, picking up on of the less-squished baguettes and examining it between his fingertips.

Orihime's eyes grew wide and her embarrassment turned to a genuine smile. "Ah, really? Thank you, Ishida! I made them yesterday, and I thought they looked too good to sell to a bunch of random strangers, so I put some away so that he–I mean, my friends–could enjoy them. So, er, you should have one, Ishida!" She said quickly towards the end, her cheeks warming at the accidental mention of a specific person.

Ishida smirked knowingly and unwrapped the bread before taking a bite, chewing slowly, and swallowing before looking at her anxious face, obviously awaiting an opinion.

"This is really good, Inoue." He says. In all honesty, they actually were, but he takes another bite as if to prove it before handing her bag back to her.

"Ah, really? I mean, I know, I couldn't help but eat one or two, but yeah! I though they looked pretty good, anyways..." She tapered off, still smiling.

Ishida felt a rather warm feeling swelling in his gut as he stared at his friend; one minute ago crying, now rambling on about her baked goods. Without mulling over what he had to say, he said

"It's too bad he didn't get to enjoy one." Ishida gave a single squeeze to the bitten loaf of bread he had in his hand, once he realized the intensity of his words. Great. Now he'd ruined everything.

The air felt heavy, and Orihime just looked straight at him, her mouth hung a little open. Her face was flushed. She certainly didn't look happy. Ishida couldn't look at the face that knew it had been found out. It's Orihime that broke the ice.

"I, uh, well I...should g–" Ishida, realizing that what he has said has been received, spits out the next part.

"You really feel strongly for him, don't you?" The words felt like cement in his throat for some reason. He regretted it before he said it, but he couldn't let her go home just like that.

Orihime had already turned away when he said it. She turned around, her eyes glossy and face tomato red. This time, she's not hiding her emotions at all. With jittery fingers, the attaches the flap to her bag back down. She knows it's pointless to hide anything now.

"Yeah...I'm sorry, Ishida...I–" She took a second to use her sleeve to stop a single tear from dripping down her chin–"Just can't help myself". She breathed.

Ishida frowned as he was hit with a pang of guilt, mixed with something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"No, don't apologize, Inoue. I think I can understand how you feel." Ishida said softly, an attempt to comfort her. He was now able to look her in the eyes. Orihime offered a feeble smile before one more final swipe under her eyes. Then–something in her completely changed.

She stared up at Ishida, eyes wide and mouth in a near perfect "o" shape. It was as if a light bulb literally popped over her head. Whatever she was thinking, it was beginning to make Ishida a little uncomfortable.

Orihime slapped her palm to her cheek.

"Oh...my gosh..That's right!" Her eyes drifted to the side as if recalling exactly what was "right" before she locked eyes with Ishida, a serious look on her face. She extending her arm, and before he knew it, her index finger was looking Ishida straight in the face.

"You–" Ishida cringed at what might come out of her mouth next. "like Kuchiki!" Ishida almost dropped the squished, bitten, pathetic piece of bread in his sweaty palms. This was worse than he though. Much worse.

"Wha–I don–" He stammered. It didn't matter what he had to say. He was cut off.

"I can't believe it didn't hit me earlier! I'm so sorry, Ishida, I was being selfish, I should've noticed this is hurting you as much as it is hurting me, but hey! I am here to help you now! I, Inoue Orihime, AKA Love Guru, will make Kuchiki fall for you. It shouldn't be too hard!" She patted her chest indignantly. Ishida rubbed his temples. This...was bad. He was just trying to comfort her.

"Inoue, I dunno..." Ishida muttered, his fingers still cupping his forehead. He couldn't finish his sentence. For whatever reason, he couldn't choke out that Rukia was not the girl he was fond of.

"Ah ah! C'mon, we're friends, right? Let me set you up! Please?" Ishida shook his hand from his face and peered down at Orihime. She was pouting, dried tears still residing on her pink cheeks, long eyelashes batting. Well, her mind was definitely off Kurosaki–it was all in her face. She was pleading and using the doe-eyes to her advantage.

"Yeah." Ishida deadpanned. "We're friends." He adjusted his glasses before letting his arm drop limply to his side in defeat. This had been too much embarrassment for one day. Daylight was now beginning to run out.

"Listen, Inoue. I'll see you tomorrow. I have to head home. Thanks–" Saying "thank you for the bread" would be too weak. "for everything."

Orihime smiled, an accomplished look on her face. She smoothed her skirt before continuing.

"Yeah! Let's collaborate on getting you a date sometime soon, kay?"

This time, Ishida's face was the one that warmed. He looked away and began stepping back. He really didn't need any more embarrassment. Regret and guilt also welt up in him, but tailing them was a surprisingly tender feeling, similar to the one he'd felt earlier, and it followed him all the way to his apartment.