AN: Time for some well-loved Orihime angst. : ) HEAVY spoilers for chapter 237 of the manga.
Enjoy!
I do not own anything in Bleach or its characters.
Miss This, Miss That
She would miss the flowers a lot. They were very nice, and would bloom right at the end of winter – something she'd never get to see.
Her skies would be missed as well. They were vast, open, and covered with stars and city lights, blending into one another. Her skies were like her friends. Both were a mix of different things, yet got along well and helped each other.
The friends would be missed dearly as well. She hoped Tatsuki would forgive her.
Her bed would be missed quite a lot. It was everything that defined home – safety, comfort, warmth, blankets, pillows.
Well, there was that boy who also defined those, at least the first three adjectives anyways.
She would miss the kitchen. As far as she was concerned, she made the best meals in the world. Thought, 31 Flavors still had the best ice cream. Her food was like her she thought sometimes: weird but in a good, tasty way. Not that she thought of herself as tasty of course. That would be just plan odd.
There would be a lot of things to miss.
As she continued writing in her notebook, she decided that she would miss everything. She would miss doing her laundry. She would miss talking to her brother. She would miss the summer in Karakura Town. She would miss going to school and working in class. She would miss going home to watch Don Kanonji on the TV. She would miss going out and battling Hollows. She would miss being surprised to see a shinigami friend. She would miss explaining things to Ishida and Chad and Ichigo and Rukia with her weird-but-still-right-to-her logic. She would miss her freedom. She would miss everything.
But there was no such thing as a life without sacrifice. Even she was not so naïve as to think otherwise.
Her hand stopped moving across the page, and she stared at words that no longer seemed to make sense in her saddened mind. She stood up, leaving the notebook open just in case someone wanted to see it or anything. If anyone threw it away, she hoped they would recycle.
She would miss the pen she was using. It was very nice, simply smooth.
There would be many things to miss, but if it was only she who suffered and no one else, than that was fine. That was bearable.