The Night Starts Here

by Love Tifa

Love happens, underneath a starlit sky; — ஐ — \ ichihime /

t he night starts here.

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Late afternoon golden sunshine, glinting attractions, alluring scents and sounds, and family friendly tunes all beckoned them. Brimming with life, lyrical and beautiful music, and plentiful booths serving a variety of entertainment purposes ranging from food and drinks, games, to face painting, Karakura was finally singing back to him upon his return.

It was then and there that Ichigo decided that he had been right to bring Orihime to the carnival; for never before had it felt like he was truly home, until now. He didn't feel the anger battling in his chest, didn't feel the sadness tearing at his heart, and didn't feel the itch of his hand or the prickle of hairs on the nape of his neck that signaled the presence of danger. Ichigo felt calm, content, and satisfied. And maybe, just maybe he thought, it had all the world to do with the honey-haired beauty by his side.

More specifically with the fact that he knew she was right next to him, holding his hand in hers, safe and sound.

Letting his eyes flutter shut briefly, Ichigo tilted his head and enjoyed the feeling of the sunlight stroking his face, warming his cheeks, and the breeze rustling his hair. Now Ichigo's only job upon returning home was to be a son, a brother, a friend, and a teenaged boy, and menacing white-clad figures and a haunting world of illusory white would just be ugly, terrible memories; ugly and terrible, but still simply memories. Ichigo realized with a start that this must be what pure and adulterated happiness felt like.

For once, he was going to let himself be happy, because he didn't have to listen to the sound of enemies issuing forth threats against his friends or hear the painful, mournful sound of Orihime's despair echoing in his ears. Ichigo's heartbeat would spike only because of happiness to be with her, rather than because of fear that he might fail and his desire to protect a mountain load of people would be all for naught.

This was life, this was what living was all about, the way her slim, delicate fingers intertwined with his coarser ones before boldly squeezing them, the sound of laughter filling the air. Letting a crooked smile tug at his lips, Ichigo felt blessed pureness ease away the feel of sword and battle, replaced by tender emotions as he watched Orihime light up the entire amusement park wherever she went. Always the most lucid, it was as if Orihime's presence alone faded her surroundings, depriving them of clarity. Orihime shone like a miniature sun in her white sundress and with her sunrise-colored hair loose, brushing against the small of her back. Her silvery eyes were even bedewed with a luminescence all their own — making them shimmer and glimmer with mirth.

The amazing thing was that despite her appearance, Orihime easily remained sweet and caring and gentle and the single kindest person Ichigo knew. It wasn't uncommon to see guys tripping over themselves around her, yet she didn't let her physical attributes get to her head; if anything else, Orihime seemed completely unaware of her natural cuteness and its effect on other people. Her personality alone emanated with such a beauty that it could floor a person, her cheerful demeanor pleasantly warming the coldest of hearts.

If Ichigo hadn't been watching her, so transfixed by the ethereal glow only her true form could conjure, he wouldn't have believed it to be true.

This same girl, Inoue Orihime, was his girlfriend.

What had Ichigo done to deserve someone like her? He did not consider himself that great of a catch, really. He was not particularly handsome. His vivid tangerine-orange hair clashed with the fervent dark brown of his eyes. His face was strong to put it nicely, mean looking to put it bluntly. He knew he was not ugly per se . . . he just was not anywhere in Orihime's league.

In all actuality, he had not done anything at all to deserve her.

Make no mistake, Ichigo did not doubt Orihime's feelings. They were as true and pure as everything else about her; they just caught him off guard initially, is all. But he figured, why ruin a good thing by being insecure? Clearly Orihime saw something in him, a special shining quality that made his character stand out. Instead of angsting and moaning about what a hopelessly beautiful girl could possibly see in a scowly-faced, carrot-top head like him, Ichigo would content himself with the knowledge that she wanted to be with him and him alone, and that was that.

Now, if only other guys got the message. Ichigo noticed with a touch of annoyance the way that every other guy within the vicinity couldn't help but stare in wonder at Orihime as well. Seeing as how she was the magnanimous golden divinity of their high school, it was unsurprising, but still. Ichigo narrowed his eyes in disconcertion at the latest pervert he caught gawking openly at Orihime within the last five minutes.

"Mou, what's Kurosaki-kun looking at?" An oblivious Orihime asked curiously as she cocked her head cutely to the side like a little bird, peering up at him with her big, gray eyes. Ichigo turned bright red and jerked his head to stare down at his girlfriend, who was still peering at him quizzically through her long, long lashes. He shook his head, the tops of his cheekbones flushing even darker the longer she stared at him.

"N-Nothing!" Ichigo stuttered in denial. He didn't want to admit that he had been shooting glares of death at any potential admirers. Though the bastards deserved that and more, as far as Ichigo was concerned.

"Hmm!" She hummed underneath her breath, knitting her brows together. The spring wind flicked her honeyed strands across her face, and she reached one hand up to keep her too large sunhat on top of her head. Orihime looked up at him, squinting, her lower lip sticking out in an endearing pout. While Ichigo remained pokerfaced, Orihime tried to keep her solemn, squinty-eyed expression in place; eventually her facial features broke out into a wide smile as she giggled. "Well, if Kurosaki-kun says so!" she chirped brightly, and Ichigo mentally let out a sigh of relief.

The relief was soon eclipsed by a more leery emotion that lurked within his chocolate brown depths.

Ever since returning with to the living world, Ichigo had made a promise to himself to never again take this place, this town, or his nakamas for granted; especially Orihime, sweet, bubbly, and soft-hearted Orihime — not after he had gone to hell and back to save her.

It was incredible, how easily the girl in question shifted back into routine after being forced to deal with the horrors she experienced in Hueco Mundo. Orihime was still, in so many ways like the sun he imagined her to resemble. Hardly anyone suspected how impossibly strong she was, how her small hands, fragile looking hands, possessed the power to heal and bend time and raise glowing shields in defense of her friends. How despite the abuse, the gore, the bloodshed, Orihime kept on smiling, remaining untainted with anguish and pain and war. She stayed the same person, still radiant, still beautiful, still bright and effervescent as the shining, white sun.

But Ichigo knew, and if you asked him, that in itself was true strength.

He was proud of her, how she shined so bright, and he would do everything in his power to protect that light from dimming ever again. As corny or trite as it may have sounded, Ichigo wanted to make sure she always had a reason to smile.

"Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime exclaimed excitedly, and Ichigo blinked his way to the present. "We should get some cotton candy, ne?"

"Already?" Ichigo admonished, though his tone was light. He should not have been surprised, but he was. "You ate two sticks of cotton candy not too long ago." And she had, as soon as they arrived at the carnival. The honey-haired girl had quite the voracious appetite, though a person may not have known it just by looking at her. Orihime devoured those two sticks of pink cotton candy with such an enthusiastic relish it would make an outsider think she had never eaten in her life. "You don't want to get a stomach ache, do you?"

"Kurosaki-kun is so kind!" Orihime sweetly put out in the open, and that brought a light blush to Ichigo's face. He couldn't help it. He always blushed when she said things like that. He just wasn't used to receiving compliments. "But I'll be okay! My stomach is sturdy and strong! Besides, it's blue cotton candy," she told him, as if that made all the difference in the world. For Orihime, it probably did.

Watching his girlfriend nibble happily on her cotton candy made Ichigo happy in turn, though he did chide her a bit by warning her, "You're practically inhaling the stuff. Don't eat it so quickly." Orihime pouted, a tuft of the spun sugar hanging from her lips. Unthinkingly, Ichigo reached out to gently wipe it from her mouth with his thumb, and the delicate, blooming roses that flared to life in her cheeks made the corner of his lip curl upwards. She blinked, caught off guard, before lifting her free hand to her heated cheek and shaking her head rapidly back and forth.

"D-Don't t-tease me like that!" Orihime protested, red-faced and eyes glistening. Ichigo shrugged nonchalantly in response and shot back, "Stop eating so fast and I won't have to clean up your messes."

It was cute, seeing her grow all flustered like this. She really was starting to resemble a life-sized cherry tomato though, so Ichigo figured he should stop while he was ahead. He didn't want to make her pass out after all. "All right," he said gently, drawing her attention back to him; Orihime had been avoiding Ichigo's amber gaze by peering at the ground; tentatively, she peeked up at him through tendrils of auburn-colored hair that swept across her face. "What do you want to do now? Do you want to see if there are any worthwhile games around here?"

"U-Un!" Orihime's reply was wobbly, but a positive, and Ichigo grinned; he knew that was the right question to ask. However, he didn't anticipate Orihime immediately letting her fingers unlace with his before taking off ahead of him. She spun around in a pirouette, laughing, her flowy dress-skirt swaying around her like the ornate flower petals of a lily.

"Oi!" he called after her, "Orihime, come back here!"

Ichigo broke out into a run as he chased after Orihime, who was unsurprisingly quick on her feet. When he finally caught up to her, she was standing directly in front of a booth, talking to a thick, short man with a heavy mustache. They both turned towards him as he approached at a quick, harried gait, Orihime flashing him a gleeful smile, hands clasped behind her back as she tilted her head at him, and the man eyeing him with a twinkle in his chestnut eyes. Stepping forward, Ichigo hesitated, stopped, and then rubbed the back of his head as he surveyed the layout of the booth.

It looked simple enough — just toss a plastic ring around one out of numerous, gleaming milk bottles and then voila, any of the prizes were the winner's for the taking — but Ichigo knew all too well that looks could be deceiving. The mental image of a certain petite shinigami flashing a saccharine smile and lifting the skirt of her dress to curtsey flashed across his mind.

Ichigo rifled through his pockets and placed a few bills and coins onto the counter of the booth. Just as he was about to inquire how much exactly it was to play, the mustached man said cheerily, "You don't see very many older brothers bring their baby sisters to the fair!"

Dead silence fell over the pair of bright-haired teenagers, and the man who had made such a blasphemous statement was the only one grinning.

What the fuck? Ichigo almost lost it, but by some miracle was able to keep himself from reaching over and pummeling that grinning little old man. He took a deep, stabilizing breath, willing his heart rate to slow down, keeping in mind that Orihime was present all the while; she wouldn't want to see any bloodshed, he told himself, and he would do anything to make her happy. Even if it meant dealing with an ignoramus who made wild and unfounded assumptions based on something as inane as similar hair colors.

"I don't know where you got that from," Ichigo responded slowly and gravely after taking a moment to collect himself, his eyes narrowing into slits. "But that is not true." He glanced at Orihime, whose eyes had widened considerably; her lovely facial features were flooded with pink. He repeated, his own face tinted a devastated color, "It's not true. She's not my sister."

"Ah, really?" The mustached asked, bemused. "I just thought — " But Ichigo didn't let him finish because he could not have given a rat's ass what he thought.

Ichigo seized Orihime's hand and pulled her forward, saying over his shoulder, "Come on, Orihime. We'll find another booth to entertain ourselves at." And then, under his breath as he lead the stunned girl away, he groused aloud in vexation, "Tch, the nerve of that guy."

Ichigo wondered what Orihime thought as she had remained completely silent during the entire affair. No doubt she was beyond embarrassed. On impulse, Ichigo's eyes turned briefly to Orihime, who was still unnaturally quiet; though she was nibbling on her lower lip, rosiness present on her cheeks, nose, and even on the tips of her ears. Her thick lashes brushed her cheeks, and Ichigo frowned, wondering what she was pondering about so deeply in that amazingly imaginative little head of hers that held an immense universe within its cranium. When she noticed his staring, Orihime smiled softly, but did not hold his gaze.

Behind the circus tent there was a narrow yet private spot. He pulled her to a halt there, turning to face the curiously silent girl.

"What is it?" Ichigo prompted. He scrutinized her, patiently awaiting an answer.

"Ehehehehe! It's nothing!" She laughed anxiously, ducking her head low to let a curtain of silky hair fall in sleek torrents and hide her red, red countenance. The matching, too-large hat Orihime donned painted her visage with dim shadows as it tipped forward. She stuttered, scrunching up the material of her skirt, "Well, I-I . . . um . . . I . . . I was just t-t-thinking . . ."

"Yeah? Go on." Ichigo loosened his grip on her hand, and reached out to gently grasp her chin, guiding her head back up to look at him. She looked utterly indecisive, pink mouth twitching as she internally debated whether or not she should voice her thoughts, and her face growing warmer and warmer by the second. Was she really so embarrassed she wasn't comfortable talking to even him about it? A small smile played on Ichigo's lips as he tried to reassure her that that need not be the case. "Hey, it's okay to say you're unhappy by what that guy said you know," he told her. A beat later Ichigo added, more heatedly, "It was really dumb of him to assume — "

Orihime jumped away from him, her arms flailing around like windmills. "O-Oh no!" she suddenly burst out in a breathy rush. "I'm not upset! I-I'm not u-upset at all!"

Saying Orihime's prompt reply threw him for a loop would be an understatement. Ichigo did a double take. "You're not?" Ichigo retorted incredulously. Well, that sure was news for him, though that still didn't answer his question. "Then what're you so embarrassed about?"

Ichigo tilted his head towards her, eyes narrowed; he watched as Orihime continued to fiddle with her skirt, stare at the ground, dart her gray orbs to his dark-pitched eyes, and then away bashfully. "W-Why would I be?" Orihime retaliated. The incredible thing was, despite her shyness, there was a spark of determination present in her tone. She continued, her voice sounding like a bell, clearer, stronger, "If he mistook me for your sister, I-I'm flattered . . . Do you know why?" Ichigo could only shake his head in frank confusion, nonetheless hanging onto her every word as she spoke.

"Be . . . Because . . ." she stammered, and Ichigo murmured for her to go on. She paused to take in much needed air then, and at the same time he held his breath, waiting. "Because . . . Kurosaki-kun is very, very handsome . . . And that means, he thinks I'mhandsometoo!" Orihime finally finished in a near yell.

… …

It felt as if a lightning bolt zigzagged down from the sky and struck him on the spot.

It was such an Orihime thing to say, with typical Orihime-like logic behind it. Yet, the full impact of her words slammed heavily into Ichigo, because he knew for a fact she meant them. Orihime was not one to poke fun or lie to try to get a rise out of anyone; her words were too-honest and too-kind. Ichigo felt his entire face grow stupidly aflame and twitchy, but he hid it as best as he could, clearing his throat loudly.

Only Orihime, he thought. The trademark scowl slid forcefully in, and Ichigo muttered unconvincingly, "Tch."

She giggled at his reaction, all tinkling and girlish. "Ah, um . . . it was embarrassing for me to say, wasn't it? I'm sorry," the honey-haired girl apologized, scratching the side of her cheek.

"Pfft. Yeah, right!" Ichigo denied, a little too quickly, avoiding her eyes as he did so. If he would have only dared to look her way, he would have seen the mirth sparkling there; perhaps it was better that he did not. Ichigo's brain scrambled for a valid subject to latch onto. "C-Come on, let's go find something else to do. We're burning daylight standing around like this," he complained; Ichigo winced at the unintentionally harsh undertone he had not meant to add. "And this time, I'll pick the game."

"Okay!" Orihime agreed, not taking any offense much to his relief. "Lead the way, Kurosaki-kun~!"

Ichigo was right. They were losing daylight. Slowly but gradually, the sun was making its descent in the sky. A fresh layer of orange began to color the horizon; in response to the impending gloom, the air was already alive with flickering and winking lights of brightly-colored lanterns stretched over the many booths they passed. Delighted laughter chimed around them as they walked hand in hand through the crowd, Ichigo keeping his grip nice and firm lest he lose Orihime amidst the sea of people.

There were all sorts of attractions — rides, clowns juggling colorful balls, men and women pushing carts around while offering balloons and sugary confections, and lively music in the background. Ichigo rolled his eyes without meaning it as he stopped to indulge Orihime time and time again so she could "ooh" and "aww" over whatever spectacle caught her fancy.

And yes, Ichigo did end up buying Orihime yet more food, chocolate covered bananas dipped in Tabasco sauce and a stick of mitarashi dango to be exact. But could you really blame the guy? No one could resist those puppy dog eyes, huge and watery in her pale face, and the trembling pouty bottom lip sticking out just like so.

Orihime asked if she could ride the carousel, and Ichigo eyed the merry-go-round warily, thinking a multitude of things could go wrong. "Only if you'll let me hold you steady," he stated point blank, and she beamed and nodded vigorously. There was a diverse variety of mounts, like lions, zebras, tigers, deer, mythological creatures, and of course, horses. Orihime didn't go for the demure, painted mare nor the graceful looking deer like he hoped she would; instead, she ended up seating herself astride a fire breathing freakin' dragon, croakily stating how "cool" it was while shaking her fists with childlike enthusiasm.

"Oi! Don't get too excited, you'll fall," Ichigo told her as the painted dragon she was riding moved up and down; but she was laughing too loudly, having too much fun to heed his warning.

Standing and watching and resting his hand on the small of her back was enough for him, and he watched his girlfriend with a small smile on his face and a serene expression in his eyes. Orihime kept a hand on top of her head to keep the hat with the matching ribbon from flying away and flashed a blinding smile in his direction. Amidst the blurred faces and prancing beasts all aglow, Orihime looked like a beautiful princess straight out of a fairytale, in her white dress and with her hair swirling behind her in sleek, auburn-colored streams.

This was fun and this was exactly what Ichigo wanted, Orihime happy and smiling and living and breathing. The sound of her laughter would forever be imprinted in Ichigo's memory.

When the ride ended, Ichigo held one of her hands in his, brushing his fingers against her own small ones; the flesh was maddeningly fragile, like he could break through to the bones which moved underneath without even trying. It was such a little thing, yet it reassured him that she was undoubtedly alive. "Come on. Didn't you say you wanted me to win you a stuffed Penguin?"

"O-oh but K-Kurosaki-kun . . . that's not necessary! I-I don't want to be a burden to you!"

Unsurprised by her protest, Ichigo spoke warningly, "Orihime." And she blushed at the way he said her name, peering up at him with her wide doe eyes. He looked at her underneath his eyelashes, inwardly cursing whoever made her feel the need to apologize for everything she did, whoever made her feel like she was lesser of a person. He wrestled with his emotions, trying to find the words. "Listen, you're not being a burden to me. It really isn't even that big of a deal. All right? I want to win you something. And didn't we both agree I could pick the next game?" Orihime nodded timidly, still looking unsure, so Ichigo took a moment to glance around until he laid eyes on one booth in particular.

"Um, ah, u-um . . . Kurosaki-kun?" She tilted her head up at Ichigo questioningly and he started pulling her in the direction of the booth he'd decided on. When they got there, Ichigo refocused his gaze on her, regarding her with a slight smirk evident on his visage.

"Still don't want me to win you that penguin?" he teased her, for he knew Orihime was now gawking openly at the very large stuffed animal displayed at the back of the booth. He saw the twinkling stars that glittered within her silvery irises, and the way her small hands were balled up into excited fists against the front of her ample chest. Then, a smile spread slowly on Ichigo's face, bordering on a grin, and he handed the man in charge of the booth his money. Piece of cake, Ichigo told himself smugly. He had engaged in countless violent and bloody battles against Shinigami captains and Arrancars alike; Ichigo even rose from the dead after being blasted by a freakin' Cero in Hueco Mundo.

This? Knocking down a stack of cans arranged in a pyramid? Pfft, this was nothing in comparison.

Orihime cheered loudly, jumping up and down as she did so. "Go Kurosaki-kun! Go, go, go! Show the little blue men what you are made of!"

Really, all the girl needed was a cheerleading outfit — a tank top dashed across the middle with a large orange 'K', pleated skirt that ended across the upper thigh, white tennis shoes, and sparkly pom poms to complete the ensemble. Ichigo shook his head at the visual, grateful for Orihime's enthusiasm but even more so grateful she wasn't donning such a vivacious outfit for everyone to see. She was already drawing enough attention as it was, a small crowd gathering behind her and chattering amongst themselves to see just what was all the fuss about.

Ichigo tossed a bean bag in the air and caught it, repeating the motion two more times. Then, he aimed and threw it.

If the game had been fair and the cans not weighted, his throw would have knocked them all down. Instead, he hit the center dead on, only for the cans to remain perfectly upright on the platform they were standing on; in a state of disbelief, Ichigo gaped, while Orihime patted his arm sympathetically. He felt a vein throb over his temple as people started whispering surreptitiously behind their hands. "Don't worry! Kurosaki-kun still has two more bean bags left!" the cheerful girl by his side reassured Ichigo, a wide, wide smile occupying her pretty face.

"Yeah," he muttered lamely, his pride deflated like a popped balloon. But Ichigo made himself suck it up, determined; he would kick ass and take names, damn it!

After yet another toss with the exact same results, Ichigo felt like he was going to blow a gasket. He turned on the elderly owner of the booth in a flash, amber eyes darkening with his righteous anger. It could not be denied anymore. "This game is rigged! Just what kind of place are you running here gramps?"

"What?" the man squawked angrily. "Are you accusing me of being a crook young man?"

"I'm not accusing you, I'm telling you — this game is rigged old man!"

"K-Kurosaki-kun! Please don't fight!"

Orihime tried to intervene, but he was too deeply in the midst of a heated argument with the vendor. The space between her eyebrows creased and the corners of her mouth slanted downwards in a brief pout; her arms even crossed underneath the swell of her breasts. A quick breeze whistled by and it caught the wispy ends of her bangs and tugged them playfully against her face but Orihime ignored them as she returned her gaze to the platform holding up the pyramid of cans. A look of thoughtfulness entered her face.

"Hmm . . . "

Annoyance pulsed through Ichigo's bloodstream, and he decided he had heard enough. He had heard enough half-assed excuses and half-assed assurances that this game was checked out by inspectors from this old man to last him a lifetime; he had heard enough complaints and jousts at his throwing technique from the nosy bodies behind him. Ichigo felt like he was just about done with carnival games and was about to tell Orihime so when the din of clattering cans caught his attention, as did the audible amazement that shot through the crowd of spectators.

You could even see it like a wave, like a current of electricity. They were going positively wild; but that barely registered once Ichigo realized the cause of their clapping and cheering.

Ichigo could only stare, dumbfounded, at Orihime, who had successfully knocked all twenty-one cans down by herself. She was shyly blushing at all the attention, rubbing the back of her head and laughing. When their eyes met though, she beamed more brightly and flashed Ichigo a V-sign.

"Y-You . . . !" Ichigo could only point a trembling finger at his girlfriend, who skipped over to where he was standing quite happily. The vendor meanwhile smugly grinned and gesticulated behind him at the bounty of prizes. "Congratulations, young lady! What prize would you like to take home with you today? Pick any one that you would like!"

"May I please have the big blue penguin?" she asked politely, obviously trying to contain her bumbling energy and excitement. Orihime was unable to get a hold of herself however once she was handed her prize. "Ah, Kurosaki-kun, feel this! Not only is it kawaii but . . . but it's so soft, like a cloud of silk and red bean paste! And it even smells like blueberries too!" she mused aloud. Ichigo's slight shock toward Orihime's accomplishing what he could not do evaporated as soon as the humungous plushie was thrust into his direction; that and when he saw the genuine thrill present in her eyes, her smile, her everything.

Ichigo accepted the plush penguin without complaint. "You're right, 'Hime." She flushed scarlet at the usage of his nickname for her. The funny thing was that it was not originally meant to be a cutesy pet name. Ichigo had just used it unthinkingly one day as shorthand when asking her a question pertaining to Math homework; it had caught on after that. It never failed to make her cheeks glow with warmth, sometimes even brighter than her already bright hair. "You think you could show me how you did it?" he asked.

"Kurosaki-kun wishes to know the super-duper mega awesome secret to my success?"

Ichigo snorted, but nodded. "Yeah, I do."

"Hmm! It may be too much even for you to handle, don't you think?"

She simply was too cute; Ichigo couldn't have not grinned even if he wanted to. Orihime always failed pulling off a solemn air, and this time was no exception. "Pfft, you're talking to me here! Nothing is too much for me to handle. Besides, I gotta know how you cheated this old coot out of his own game." Ichigo gestured with his thumb at the vendor standing off to the side, who started stewing again at the accusation that his game involved "criminal activity".

Orihime giggled and clapped her hands together with total appeasement.

"Okay! But be warned, I have as Tatsuki says a "mean right hook!" Ichigo rose an eyebrow at that but wisely chose not to make any comment on it. He just handed over more wadded up bills so he could observe Orihime and her special technique.

"She said that, huh?"

"Mmm!"

She bobbed her head in a nod and turned back to the booth. Orihime chewed her lip, an adorable sign of concentration. Then, Ichigo watched as Orihime executed a perfect pirouette on nimble feet. Her shoulders were lean and delicate, and as she began to gain more confidence in her own skin, she spun faster. Ichigo was more concerned that she would get dizzy and fall, readying himself to catch her just in case, but then she abruptly stopped. With a quick flick of her wrist, the bean bag went sailing through the air at a high speed aimed directly at the bottom of the pyramid.

Witnessing her actually do it was something else. When the cans toppled once, twice, and thrice, Orihime danced with glee, and Ichigo stared wide-eyed with wonder. Then, Ichigo smirked cockily, mouth turning up at the corners. He was pleased to see the intelligence he admired so much in her to say the least. My 'Hime of course would figure it out.

"My, you weren't joking when you said you had a mean right hook, were you? Well, go on, pick your second prize," the stall-owner said, albeit hurriedly. He probably wasn't happy that his secret was out in the open now, much less thanks to a ditzy girl like Orihime herself. That only made Ichigo's pride swell until it felt like he would burst; because people were always underestimating Orihime due to both her looks and sunny demeanor. It was not a facade, she genuinely was clumsy and bubbly and oblivious, but she also was extremely sharp and a fast thinker on her feet. So the joke really was on anyone who was stupid enough to assume otherwise, Ichigo mused smugly.

Unaware of Ichigo's internal ruminations and the vendor's discomfiture, Orihime looked up and glanced around until she saw a cream-colored bunny with floppy ears, a small, pink nose, and black, button eyes. Hazel orbs rounded as recognition entered them. It was none other than Chappy the Rabbit! Nothing else would do. She knew she had to have it, yet not for her own.

"Kuchiki-san will love this!" Orihime gushed once she had the plushie within the cradle of her arms and they were walking away. Ichigo let loose a sigh, a crooked smile finding its way to his lips. "You're way too nice. Always thinking about others . . . " he told her, ruffling a hand through his hair. She smiled sheepishly at his praise, and that only made his expression soften further. In addition to being exceedingly kind, Orihime was very modest. Ichigo did not comment on that trait of hers nonetheless, instead continuing to say, "But yeah, you're right. We both know how much she is obsessed — "

Ichigo's words were cut off when he received a swift roundhouse kick to the head.

His nose started gushing blood, and he clutched at it in desperation to staunch the blood flow. Ichigo hollered, "W-What the hell!" and the petite assailant stood up and primly dusted the nonexistent flint from her dress, smirking. Her partner in crime meanwhile remained content to stand there silently, pushing up his eyeglasses, unperturbed by the violence and literal bloodshed he had just witnessed take place.

… …

"Kuchiki-san? I-Ishida-kun?" Orihime greeted, her eyes blinking at the pair in an emotion that seemed to be a cross between pleasant and disbelieving. In her arms was still nestled the Chappy the Rabbit plushie. Pink-cheeked, she quickly hid it behind her back, though the warm smile upon seeing her fellow nakamas never left her face.

Rukia went from raving violent to sugary sweet within mere seconds as she averted her glaring eyes from Ichigo to settle on her beaming honey-haired friend. "Hey."

Nodding, Ishida replied with an affable, "Hello, Inoue-san."

A temporary silence descended over the four of them. Ichigo was the one to break it when he was sure that his nose was still intact. He fumed, "Yeah, this is nice and everything, but what are you guys doing here exactly?" Ichigo didn't appreciate his first official outing with his girlfriend being interrupted like this thank you very much. On top of that, he had his suspicions of an ulterior motive. For what reason would the stuffy nerd be hanging out alone and willingly with the likes of a shinigami anyway? And not just any shinigami, but Rukia herself. Ichigo crossed his arms flippantly over the broad expanse of his chest as he skeptically appraised the odd pair in front of him.

"Kuchiki-san wanted to spy on you and Inoue-san," Ishida replied promptly by way of explanation, but it was in such a bland and smooth tone that nobody could possibly take him seriously. Orihime smiled and hardly suppressed a giggle, whereas Ichigo felt the inkling of suspicion taking a hold of him increase tenfold.

"He was joking." Rukia rolled her azure eyes as if she read his mind. They were so in tuned with each other sometimes Ichigo would not have been surprised if that were the case. But her next choice of words had him seeing red. "Get a hold of yourself, idiot."

Ichigo simply could not believe his ears. He seethed, "Seriously?" His teeth grinded together loudly; "You're telling me to calm down when you just came out of nowhere and kicked me in the face? Plus do you really expect me to believe that you and Ishida just happened to be at the carnival, at the same time Orihime and I are here on our date? Ha, as if! I wasn't born yesterday you know!"

"Close enough," Rukia said snidely with a snicker. That only earned her a very lethal glare of death from an obviously affronted Ichigo.

"You shouldn't be so paranoid," Ishida stated as he jumped into the conversation, a superior note audible in his voice. Ichigo grit his teeth even more. The bastard was enjoying this, hell, they both were! Ishida's spectacles gleamed. "It's not exactly an attractive quality in a boyfriend."

What the hell? The air around the orange-haired teen was positively vibrating with irritation as Rukia snickered again, and Ishida smirked. They were straight up taunting him now!

"Ah but Kurosaki-kun has no reason to be jealous! He is an amazing boyfriend!" Orihime chirped brightly, and her lighthearted response on his behalf made Ichigo's heart skip a beat; he was also thankful to be relieved of the burden of having to answer in a civil manner. He had already embarrassed himself in front of Orihime enough. Ishida did not respond but Rukia seemed to soften up at that. "That's good," she murmured gently, and it almost was like that was what she had been waiting to hear. She tilted her head at Ichigo. "Keep it up, Strawberry."

"You don't have to tell me," he retorted with a smirk. The smirk on his face only grew as he observed how close together Rukia and Ishida were standing. "So you two are here . . . together, eh?"

It did not get quite the reaction he was hoping for. While it appeared Ishida was struggling not to flush red like a tomato, but failing, Rukia gave him a happy little grin that was candid in nature. "Uryuu courteously agreed to show me around this place you call a carnival. You humans have interesting ideas of fun," she mused. "He also custom made me this — " Rukia twirled around, showing off a warm, dusky aqua sundress that hugged her slim curves just right. The noble woman actually looked, dare he say it, ladylike and more than presentable in the whole piece too. She was like a fully bloomed azalea or a night-blooming jasmine: delicate yet strong.

It just fit her.

Ichigo was momentarily stumped, unsure of how to respond to that. Ishida looked out of sorts, whereas his attempt to embarrass Rukia just flew straight over her head. Orihime herself squealed, pressing one hand against her cheek in unadulterated wonder and awe. "Sugoi! Kuchiki-san truly looks radiant, like the ocean on a sunshine-y day~!"

"You think so?" Rukia asked, and Orihime only nodded, shaking her head excitedly back and forth with her palpable excitement. Ichigo squinted and scowled slightly at the two of them as they continued to prattle on, feeling as if he'd stepped into an alien, distinctly feminine world. Seconds later, he could not help but replace his sour look with a soft smile. It was kind of weird yet nice, seeing both Rukia and Orihime laughing and smiling over something as silly and mundane as dream dresses. These little moments were seldom ever had and always too far apart.

The Quincy came to stand beside him, observing the scene too. "She cares deeply for Inoue-san, we all do." He tilted his head at Ichigo, the glare of his glasses keeping his eyes hidden from view. "And in case you're wondering, I was the only one available to take part in this fruitless endeavor. Arisawa was out of town and Sado is busy babysitting at the moment. But nonetheless . . . we all just wanted to be sure."

It was then Orihime decided to reveal the plushie she had hidden behind her back, and present it to a starry-eyed Rukia. At once, a loud awestruck thank you resounded from the receiver, whose eyes filled up with hearts. Rukia bounced on her heels and hugged the stuffed animal as tightly as she could against her chest, nearly popping the seams. "IT'S SO FLUFFY!"

"Well, you've got nothing to worry about," Ichigo said with a shrug.

Ishida leveled him with a dry stare. "So it would seem. Regardless . . . " The dark-haired male trailed off, again pushing up his glasses with his middle finger. "You know what the consequences would be, don't you?"

"Yeah, yeah." It didn't even need to be said. Tatsuki would kick his ass in more ways than he could dream; Ichigo knew for a fact she could, too. That did not even count the horrors he would suffer at the hands of the rest of their friends if he dared to hurt Orihime in any way, shape or form. But honestly, as mushy as it may have sounded, Ichigo would not have had it any other way. It just meant a lot of people cared about Orihime's well-being, and she deserved to have people like that watch out for her. Hell, he knew for a fact he would act the exact same way. Still Ichigo felt like he should say it. A small smile twitched at the corners of his lips, unbidden. He assured with blatant feeling in his voice, "There's no way I'd mess this up. There's no way I'd risk losing her."

" . . . Don't get so sentimental on me, Kurosaki."

Noncommittally, Ichigo grunted in response. "Are you done hovering now? I'd like to enjoy the rest of my date with my girlfriend in peace."

Ishida smirked. "For now."

"Bye bye Ishida-kun! Bye bye Kuchiki-san!" Orihime called out as she waved her thin arms round and about enthusiastically in farewell. She looked at Ichigo with a broad smile. "Maybe next time we can go on a double date!"

"I uh don't . . . I think it's like that at all," Ichigo said, struggling with his words, and pushing a hand through his spiky orange locks. Orihime blinked innocently in the face of his denial, then laughed a little, a display of sweet incredulity. Earnestly, she explained, "Oh but Kurosaki-kun, that's the second dress he has made for her from scratch! And both have turned out so cute and fit perfectly on her!" She pressed a palm against her pale cheek, irises looking dreamy and far off. "It's so romantic because it can only mean he thinks about her a lot and very much, to make her a dress that fits so flawlessly! He pours his hearts into every stitch, I'm sure of it." She blinked some more, before her face started to fill rapidly with color. "Ah now that I think about it . . . i-it's a bit e-embarrassing . . ."

"Then don't think about it," Ichigo teased. Sighing affectionately at his infinitely imaginative girlfriend who still appeared cherry-faced and distant-eyed, he moved his fingers to prod at her sides gently. Startled, Orihime squeaked as she jerked away from him, quickly spinning around to glare up at him through her eyelashes. Ichigo tilted his head and met her gaze with a deceivingly blameless quirk of his lips. She blushed even harder at his attention, but Orihime made sure to keep a stern look on her features, hard eyes meeting his soft, laughing ones.

"Kuro-saki-kun!" She chided, blowing out a flustered breath from between puffy cheeks.

"What? I wasn't the one imagining inappropriate things involving that stuffy nerd and vertically challenged — "

"Ah! Look, look, over there!" From his peripheral vision he saw Orihime suddenly point, at the looming mechanical wheel straight ahead alit with a spectrum of colored bulbs. "The Ferris wheel!" she cried excitedly. Her eyes flicked to his, delight making her eyes shine like polished diamonds. "Let's give it a try, ne, Kurosaki-kun? Come on!" She tugged on his hand, directing Ichigo towards to the huge wheel, practically buzzing with excitement.

"Eh? You're not scared?" Ichigo asked suddenly, his voice tinged with the slightest surprise. Orihime smiled and turned to look at him from over her shoulder, absentmindedly adjusting the strap of her dress.

"Why would I? I think it will be fun and exciting!" she answered, and Ichigo nodded, thinking he should not have been surprised; this was the girl who read bloody and gory manga, had a strong stomach for eclectic foods, and overcome far worse horrors; heights would and could not possibly faze her.

They wove in and out of the teeming crowds of people, trying to reach their destination as they walked briskly. When they were there at last, the line they filed in was surprisingly fast; before they knew it, they had their heights checked, were approved of the newly acquired yellow tickets, and made sure that they were properly settled into their small, pumpkin orange cart. Orihime sat down on the bench, buckling her seat belt, kicking her legs back and forth happily. Ichigo couldn't help but smile at her childlike enthusiasm, making a move to sit next to her, when Orihime suddenly protested this very loudly.

"N-No! Please, Kurosaki-kun, n-not right beside me!"

Ichigo scowled. "Why can't I?"

"If you sit across from me, both of us will have two different points of view! So we'll have double the epic eye power to see all of the colors and sights and sounds!" She pouted. "But if you sit beside me, then we will not be able to see everything . . ."

Ichigo was not even going to bother arguing with that logic. Without another word of protest he sat down and buckled himself in. Orihime beamed, pleased.

At least they weren't sitting too far apart from one another. She was but an arm's length away from him. As the ride started moving, he watched her gaze eagerly all about. Her unbridled joy was clearly visible, Ichigo realized, with a glimmer of amusement. He shifted across from her, letting both his legs rest more far off to the side so that her own long, pale limbs could dangle down comfortably to the edge of the floor. But it didn't even seem to matter.

"Oh, wow! We're going up so high up!"

Orihime leaned over, resting her elbows on the edge to peer at the rapidly disappearing ground below. Ichigo felt himself tense up, his hand hovering slightly to grab her if she leaned down too far. She seemed entranced in a way, like she was not completely there, too enthralled was she by all of the fluorescent lights dazzling as far as the eye could see. It didn't bother Ichigo though, because when he finally allowed himself to look, really breathe in and take it all in — the festivities below, the fingernail snippet moon, the glittering stars — he saw plenty of reasons for her to smile. Beneath the moon and above the warbling tunes of the amusement park, they were just two normal teenagers again, nakamas and yet clearly so very much more.

The breeze rushed past, whispering through her long, honey locks of hair, so that they were blowing into her face impairing her sight. Orihime giggled, trying in vain to tuck a strand behind her ear. When she lifted her head to peer up at the vast canvas of diamonds above, the most tranquil smile blessed her lips.

"There are so many of them," Orihime murmured softly in wonderment, her expression upbeat. "So many stars — shining . . . alive. Do you think my brother can see us now? That he is watching over us?"

Ichigo lifted his own head up.

She was right. Stars. So many stars, Ichigo thought. They were all dancing, waltzing across the sky like clustered ribbons, shooting in all different directions. He smiled gently, just an upward curve of his lips and Ichigo's vision shifted from the evening sky to Orihime. The wind was getting restless, and it rustled his messy, orange bangs, feeling rather cool against his slightly flushed skin. "Yeah . . . I really do."

It happened so fast, too fast, after that.

The wind suddenly picked up, and with it the pretty matching sunhat sitting atop Orihime's head. She gave a distressed gasp, hands flying to her mouth, eyes misty and huge. Ichigo's own eyes trailed after Orihime's hat in shock, watching as it danced due to the force of the zephyr; it swirled through the air, drifting beyond their reach and floating past in a rapid twirl of movement. Without warning, Orihime freed herself to stand up and lean over, gripping the edge of the cart with one hand and trying to pluck her hat from the sky with the other.

"Orihime, no!" Ichigo yelled. His heart was pounding like mad, struggling to get out, to break free from his chest. The air was stuck in his throat, a feeling between fear and hysteria beating a frantic rhythm with every pulse.

Ichigo unbuckled his belt without another thought to his own safety and reached forward, curling both his hands around her waist.

… …

The cart started to list dangerously to one side then the other when, in his haste to prevent her from falling, he yanked her back. Orihime squeaked, falling back under the force of his pull, straight into his waiting arms. Ichigo's pull was hard and Orihime automatically went to grip the edges of the seat, avoiding crashing too painfully down on top of him. As a result, she ended up sitting in his lap with her back pressed against his chest. Ichigo's reaction was too fast that for a prolonged moment, he didn't seem to register that they were both safe and that neither of them was in any risk of falling. When he did, he only tightened his arms around her midsection, burying his face into her shoulder.

His chest rapidly rose and fell as he gradually began to catch his breath. Even his hair was more of a mess than it usually was. In the meantime, Orihime squirmed against him, flushed, and inquired timidly, "U-Um . . . K-Kurosaki-kun? May . . . m-m-may you p-please let go — "

Ichigo lifted his head to see Orihime peeking up at him shyly. "Eh?" When he realized just how ridiculously close their bodies and faces were, he flushed. "R-Right, uh, sorry . . ."

He wasted no time in releasing Orihime, trying to fight against the blush sweeping over his features, and she bolted like a frightened rabbit to her seat, studiously avoiding his stare as she settled down again. Heart still pounding and head whirling a little from what could have happened, Ichigo shook his head, grunting. Then, his eyes turned diamond-hard and diamond-bright. "Orihime," he addressed her, his voice somehow both hoarse and gruff at the same time, causing her to bite her cranberry lip in worry; "What were you thinking? Do you know how dangerous that was? What if I didn't catch you?" he demanded fiercely.

"I . . . I-I'm sorry," Orihime said, trailing off a little, her tone growing soft and ashamed. She then blushed, momentarily dropping her eyes, bangs slipping into her vision. "For making you worry," she muttered. Then, recovering, she jerked her head up and smiled, a whole new expression from the unhappy one before on her features. "I'm clumsy, so it's a good thing you'll there to catch me if I fall again, ne Kurosaki-kun?"

"You bet. I always will be," Ichigo promised, closing both his hands around hers.

"That . . . that makes me very happy. You make me very happy."

"You make me happy too." Ichigo could feel his cheeks prickling somewhat from his words, but he was always embarrassed when it came to saying things romantic, even if it was said in the vaguest of ways. Giving her hands an affectionate squeeze, Ichigo was struck again by how undersized and maddeningly fragile they were in his own. He squeezed her hands, gently, lovingly, not because he viewed her as fragile as crystal and glass but because she was so precious to him. Clueless when it came to dealing with emotions, now he just had to let it out. "I love you."

Orihime stared at him. The way her silver eyes danced with soft, unspoken affection . . . it made his face surge with color. But then, something more disturbing happened. Her eyes began to water, tears gathering in the corners, before spilling down to glisten upon her rosy cheeks. Her lips parted as though she wanted to speak, to say something, but all that escaped was the broken whisper of his name. Ichigo panicked, stroking bare hands onto Orihime's face, through her hair.

"Oi, w-what did . . . did I say . . . something wrong? I-I scared you, didn't I? I'm sorry, 'Hime, please don't cry!"

She breathed in deeply, over and over, forcing herself to regain her composure and then fixed her eyes once again on him. Orihime sniffled, but beamed through her tears.

"I love you too, Kurosaki-kun," she said to him softly. "I've felt this way for a long time."

"I'm sorry, I . . ." He paused, feeling ridiculously flustered because it sounded like a confession, and it was the last thing Ichigo expected to hear. He watched as watery grays blinked back delighted tears. Ichigo even frowned a little, trying to figure out what to say; finally, he managed to question with blatant disbelief, "Really? You have?" When Orihime nodded, Ichigo shook his head, unable to believe that he was so blind not to see it before, that he was so lucky she actually harbored romantic feelings for him in that spotless, pure heart of hers.

"Orihime . . ." Ichigo leaned in towards her, his head spinning from joy, his heart skipping beats from anticipation. His emotions churned, hot and heavy inside of him, making him move both impulsively and urgently. As Ichigo unlaced his hands from hers, he framed her face and closed the rest of the distance between them, sweeping his lips tenderly across hers. When the initial shock left her he leaned further into her, deepening the kiss, his lips touching and grazing across her trembling ones until they stilled and warmed. Delicate, blooming roses, a gentle blush-pink rose underneath the apples of her cheeks as realization of what was occurring dawned. By the time Orihime was kissing back, sweetly, shyly, the ride jolted to a halt.

An embarrassed squeak tumbled from Orihime at being seen, and she hid her face in the crook of his neck adorably. Ichigo smiled down at her, and then flashed a scathing scowl in the direction of the Ferris Wheel operator, who gulped visibly. Seconds later, a button was pushed, and they were on their way into the starlit sky once again.

When her discomfiture died down and she shifted only slightly, he trailed his fingers to tilt her chin upwards, resting his forehead against hers.

"Hey, 'Hime," Ichigo murmured, and bright-cheeked still but smiling a tremulous, shy smile, Orihime greeted back, "H-H-Hi, K-Kurosaki-kun."

Ichigo hesitated. "Was I . . . that bad?" It was his turn to feel self-conscience. Ichigo's confidence was rapidly diminishing in the face of her silence, his escalating fear that he had been awful, or worse, that he had made her uncomfortable and misread her body language somehow, swallowing him whole. "Shit, sorry, I should've asked first instead of just kissing you like that — " Now he just felt like a pervert that had taken advantage of his girlfriend.

"Ah! N-No!" Orihime cried in objection. Her small hand reached up and smoothed the orange bangs from his face, and then when she caught Ichigo's attention, Orihime smiled up at him, like an opened flower receiving sunlight. "You . . . you were amazing. I-I l-l-l-liked it," she reassured him.

Her blushing due to her admittance of liking what he had done both surprised and pleased Ichigo, immensely. Easily, he could tell she was nervous. Her pulse was fluttering wild in her throat, but her smile was steady, her eyes sparkling. "I actually um, was thinking . . . I-I would like to k-k-kiss you . . . again," she confessed sheepishly, then stilled, breath catching as they shared another tender kiss that lasted only a second longer than the first.

Ichigo pulled back, gazed intensely into her eyes until the glazed, glassy look in them faded, smiling, resting his forehead against hers. "There'll be plenty more where that came from," he breathed in confirmation, the words spoken against her lips. There was a blunt, casual easiness behind his words and that along with the trademark crooked smile, hastened the blood to rush to her cheeks. A dreamy smile appeared on her radiant face in turn, reaching out to twinkle like stars in her twin hazel pools. Orihime leaned closer against him, lashes brushing skin as their noses touched. "I'd like that . . . Kurosaki-kun."

They continued to sit like that, close together and fingers entwined, far above the glinting lights of the amusement park, utterly content. And as her breath tickled his skin, and the night breeze swept over their forms, they both gazed at one another, suspended in a dark sky freckled with stars.

He was home, in the place he wanted to be, with the girl who made every waking moment in this crazy life worth living.

For my sissy Audrey

I listened to a lot of romantic love songs while writing this, particularly "All You Need is Love" by The Beatles. :) I just felt like it suited the mood I was going for! And might I say, I am just so glad to finally be done with my second ever IchiHime. *thumbs up* I've already started turning around numerous ideas for future ficcies heehee. This couple is just way too cute and full of potential to stay away from~! All in all, this one-shot didn't turn out exactly how I had it planned, but I still hope it is enjoyable for anyone who stumbles onto my story, especially of course my wonderful e-sis.^^;

P.S. I hope you all didn't mind the dollop of IshiRuki I inserted in there, I simply couldn't help myself, it's my choice crack pairing!

P. P.S. I claim no ownership of Bleach or any of its characters used in my story. I'm sure you all are shocked, but it's true! I'm not Kubo Tite! xD

E› tifa .