Characters: Ishida, Orihime
Summary: Overflowing with memories.
Pairings: None
Warnings/Spoilers: Vague spoilers
Timeline: Post-Deicide arc
Author's Note: Wow, I don't think I've done platonic with these two in a long time; in fact, I don't think I've ever done platonic with them, not entirely.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
"Inoue-san?"
Orihime turns around, surprised that anyone's found her here; it's a very isolated area in Karakura Town. She smiles in welcome as Ishida pulls himself out from between two trees somewhat awkwardly in the way of one who is—or was—used to being small enough to slip through without difficulty.
"Hello."
Ishida only stares down at her with an expression somewhere between bemusement and a frown, the heavily dappled, somewhat dim light making his face perfectly inscrutable. "What are you doing here?" he asks, genuine bewilderment in his voice and a flash of something grating like pain behind his eyes.
This isn't quite the greeting Orihime would expect, but out of Ishida she's heard plenty worse, so it's hard to be fazed. Her smile is pulled a little tight around the edges as he gets down on the ground beside her, dead leaves crunching and pulls his bag, heavy with school textbooks onto his lap. "It's gotten pretty loud where I live since the new family moved in next door—they have three small children who have yet to learn volume control. I decided to look for somewhere quiet to do my homework and ended up here." She tilts her head to get a better look at his suddenly buttoned-up face. "What, do you come here too?"
At this, Ishida hops up as if burned and Orihime can see the familiar and infuriating transition in him, closing up completely so as not to let any eyes in on him "Not…not really," he mutters, eyeing the surrounding trees with their low-lying branches warily, as if he expects something to lunge from the undergrowth and attack him.
Orihime's mouth falls open in an uncomprehending gape as he starts to back away, melting back into the shadowy mass of trees and shrubbery as quickly as he came. "I'm sorry, Inoue-san. I…I really didn't know you were here."
He's gone within a second.
Frowning perplexedly, Orihime goes back to tracing characters on paper, not paying a great deal of mind to the words or the slight cold chill that goes through the trees and rustles her hair.
Ishida only ever starts to stutter when he's really flustered.
What's up with him?
.
After Hueco Mundo, going back to the typical strains of high school, homework (of which there is a great deal) in particular all seems to Orihime to be more than a little anti-climactic. She's shocked to find that this anti-climactic feeling is something akin to disappointment.
The once all-consuming nightmares have stopped coming in such high frequency and vivid intensity; when she has one Orihime's still gasping for breath and thrashing around in bed for several minutes before she realizes that the veil has drawn back and she's not asleep anymore, hair and bed sheets soaked in sweat. But these nightmares don't affect her the way they used to; they don't exert an icy hold or make all the world seem dull and hazy and far away as they did before. Orihime can simply roll over, go back to sleep and in the morning the dream will seem as nothing more than an unpleasant blur that can be easily put from her mind.
Not to say that all the changes have reversed and retreated. Orihime's more warily alert than she ever was before, even in the days directly following Sora's death; loud, sudden noises hold the power over her to make her jump and stare around, eyes wide. She's quieter than she used to be, though she still loves to talk when there's something worth talking about. Hueco Mundo and everything that came to pass there has had its hand in shaping her, but she's far beyond the point where salve is needed just to breathe.
She's still seeking out that quiet place in the woods to do her homework; Orihime isn't about to let Ishida's disquiet with the place spook her or run her off. She likes it here, quiet and isolated and peaceful. It lends to her peace of mind and her ability to concentrate.
And truthfully, she hopes Ishida will come back. The shuttered look of his face when he found her here troubles her and he won't acknowledge that their encounter ever took place when they meet at school, as if he's taken a sponge and effaced the memory from his mind.
If there's any affect Hueco Mundo has had on Orihime that she can consider an inadvertent gift, it's that the cold desert world has taken her already keen eyes and made them more discerning, to measure emotions and guess at the hidden meanings behind words and gestures.
Ishida's emotions are thrown into death spirals by this place, and it would make Orihime feel much better if she just had some idea as to why.
.
When Orihime is trying to pull herself through the narrow paths of trees and bushes and keep a hold on her books at the same time, she's more than a little taken aback to find Ishida already there.
He's standing with his back to her though the tense way he stiffens when her foot snaps a twig lets Orihime know that Ishida knows someone's there. He has his hand pressed flat against a tree trunk, pale skin against the grooves of the wood as though he thinks there's something there he can divine from it.
Or like there's something intangible against the wood that he tries, in vain, to hold on to.
She crosses over to him in three swift strides, holding her school books tight to her chest like a shield, as Orihime leans against the tree trunk and casts a slow smile up at Ishida, who still has his slightly glazed eyes fixated on the bark.
"Ishida-kun, are you awake?" He finally turns to look at her when she waves a hand, fingers with bitten nails stretched wide in front of his face. The look on Ishida's face is vague annoyance barely rising above the habitual face of neutral detachment.
The slightest hint of a sarcastic smile appears on the thin line of his mouth as he nods. "Wide awake, Inoue-san."
"I was…" Orihime frowns as she searches for words "…surprised to see you here again." She leaves off on rehashing how distracted he seemed the last time; there's no need to talk about something that still makes no sense to her.
Going back to his close scrutiny of the tree, the tip of his tongue goes out over his mouth before he answers. "I am too, to be honest." Ishida looks over and around all the trees surrounding them, a wide-eyed, unreadable expression over his face. "I haven't been back here in years, you know."
The following silence is broken only by a bird's distant, echoing call, and gradually he becomes aware that Orihime's still waiting.
"I…really do hate this place," he mutters.
Orihime frowns. "What? Then why do you still come here?"
This time, Ishida looks directly at her instead of averting his eyes shyly like he's wont to do. He sucks in a deep breath. "Because when I was a child—" spoken in the manner of someone who has long since ceased to look at himself as a child "—the only time I was ever really happy was when I was here."
Orihime nods, leaning up to grip his shoulder and smiles. It explains very little, but that's more of an answer than she's ever gotten out of him before. It is enough.