Disclaimer: Bleach is the property of its creator, Kubo Tite, and of various companies that publish it. We all know I'm not making any money out of this; just playing with the characters a bit.

A/N: First time I write IshiHime. Hope I haven't murdered them too much...

She'd seemed particularly cheerful that day, but every time their eyes had met, she'd quickly withdrawn her gaze as her cheeks flushed rapidly. There had also been times when she'd suddenly fallen quiet for no apparent reason, and no one seemed to have noticed. Not even that Tatsuki girl, who was supposed to be her best friend. He'd always thought best friends knew right away when something was wrong.

Not that he knew for a fact; he'd read it somewhere.

Because Tatsuki had another karate practice that evening, she'd walked home on her own. After keeping a reasonable distance between them for a while, he'd noticed that their paths were the same, and, upon an impulse he certainly couldn't explain, he'd caught up with her.

"Oh, do you live this way too, Ishida-kun?" she asked.

"No, not really. I'm on my way to the hospital."

She stopped walking and looked genuinely concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Oh no, nothing's wrong, don't worry, Inoue-san! I just…I'm going to see my father," he sighed.

"Oh, your father's sick? I'm so sorry."

He smiled; he couldn't help it. "No, he works there. He's a doctor."

"Like Kurosaki-kun's father!"

"Yes, I suppose so," he lied, quite sure that the two men couldn't have been more different.

They kept talking about what he deemed to be rather unimportant things for some time, but he found that he didn't actually mind that much. It was different from what he'd known most of his life. His grandfather had been a bit like that too, but his father had subsequently made sure to get that out of his system after Souken's death.

Before he knew it, there he was, standing in front of her apartment block.

"So you…you live alone?"

"Yes, but I've got Tatsuki-chan and her mother looking after me most of the time. She's always bringing me food because—" She lifted her index finger, frowned, took a much more serious tone and started reciting, "—it's important for a young woman to have a balanced diet and…and—"

She stopped and cocked her head to the side, obviously trying to remember the words she must have heard hundreds of time but had still managed to forget. That was so like her, he mused. During their adventure in Soul Society, he'd found it incredibly strange that she could suddenly zone out that way, no matter the situation. And it wasn't in a strange-but-fascinating way; he actually thought it was quite creepy.

But somehow charming at the same time.

He froze. Had he just thought that Inoue-san was…charming?

She scratched her head and laughed. "—and now I've forgotten… I'm such an air-head!"

Her sweet laughter filled his ears, slowly spreading through his entire brain—or was it his body, he wasn't sure—and before he knew what he'd done, he'd taken two steps forward and kissed her. He'd never kissed anyone before and just pressed his lips against hers, barely taking time to register how soft they were. He was probably doing it all wrong and he was convinced his arms shouldn't have been left hanging at his sides the way they were, but he didn't know any better. So when her entire body tensed up, he swiftly moved away.

"I'm sorry, Inoue-san…" he said, looking down and pushing his glasses back up his nose.

He hadn't felt so embarrassed in a very long time and wished he could disappear, or go back in time. He just didn't want to be there anymore.

"I'm not," she said, so quietly that he wasn't sure he'd heard it correctly at first.

When he dared looking at her again, he was surprised to notice that her expression had radically changed. She'd been laughing and looking almost lost a few seconds ago, and now she appeared more serious than he ever remembered seeing her. Her eyes were intently focused on him, and she was smiling.

She usually only smiled that way when looking at Kurosaki.

"But I thought you—"

"What did you think?"

"Well I…I thought you…Kurosaki…"

A shadow passed over her face. "Yes, Kurosaki-kun," she murmured. "He…he never saw me. I was only Inoue, Tatsuki-chan's friend. But…he's a friend now, and I'm glad."

He wasn't quite sure what she was trying to say, so he deemed it safer not to let anything show and remained quiet.

"Did you know that I used to have a big brother?"

Used to?

"Err, no, I didn't."

"He died three years ago…" He was about to say he was sorry, but she went on. "After he died, I thought I'd never be happy again; I thought I'd always be alone. And then for a long time, there was only Tatsuki-chan. Not that I'm not glad, because she really was the best friend I could have wished for! But now, there's Kurosaki-kun, and Sado-ku, and Rukia-chan too, and…and you as well," she added with that same smile.

He knew he should have said something like "Thank you", but his mind was too confused to react. He wasn't usually like that; he always knew what to reply. She clearly had a very strange influence on him.

"You're very mysterious, Ishida-kun."

That was such an understatement that he wanted to chuckle but stopped himself in time. She might misinterpret it.

"I don't really know much about Kurosaki-kun, but I know even less about you."

She'd hooked her hands in front of her—a perfectly innocent gesture that unfortunately pushed her oversized breasts up, and he found himself blushing so he carefully withdrew his glance. He was aware of her moving closer to him, and when he looked round again, she was right in front him, her large, wide-open eyes staring straight into his own. He felt his heart give a jump, which was a very unusual feeling for someone as composed as he always appeared.

"I would like to know more about you, Uryuu-kun."

He swallowed hard. He wasn't actually sure what made him feel most uncomfortable about all this. That he was still there, that she was standing so close to him, that she'd used his first name—which no one ever did, or that she'd said what she'd just said.

Anybody else would have most likely expected an answer from him, but she just stood there with that smile on her face. As he always did in situations that made him nervous, he lifted his right hand to readjust his glasses—a gesture he'd unfortunately inherited from his father—but she caught it in mid air. In one quick and fluid movement, she stepped even closer to him, released his wrist and let her arms slither around his neck. As her fingers came to rest on his neck and played with back of his hair, she rose on her tiptoes and closed the small gap left between them.

Even though his entire body tensed up in a ridiculous way, he knew right away that her kiss was so much better than what he'd done. He couldn't precisely tell what it was that she was doing, for she wasn't actually doing very much, but at least she wasn't pressing her lips forcefully against his like he'd done. It was slow, it was gentle, and he felt so utterly intoxicated by it all that he was only vaguely aware of her thumb stroking the back of his neck. When she withdrew her lips, after what might have been two seconds or an eternity, he couldn't help inhaling deeply because he didn't know how he could have remembered to breathe.

"I haven't finished the essay for tomorrow," she whispered, letting her hand slide down and rest on his chest. He could feel its warm burning through his cotton shirt. "I'll see you at school, yes?"

"Err, yes, at school… All right."

And that was all he could reply. He didn't even have the strength to call her back when she turned around and ran towards her building, he could only look at the way her hair moved as she did so.

After the time it took his brain to reconnect and process what had just happened, he cleared his throat, pushed his glasses up his nose and checked his watch. He was going to be late now, it was unavoidable. His father was probably already waiting for him and expecting him to show up early. Usually, he would have cursed whoever had caused a delay, but today was different.

Yes, today was definitely different.