Orihime is running. But not from any hollow or monster or ghost that wants to take her life - she's running from a young man whose lunchbox she has just stolen.
"Orihime, come back here!" she can hear him shout from the lower floor as she makes her way up the staircase. Giggling, she takes the steps two at a time, making sure that her skirt doesn't rise too high up her thighs. The lunchbox is safely in her hands, clutched to her chest. Isshin has never been a particularly good chef, so she can't really imagine why he's so intent on having his lunch back. This makes her want to cook something for him, learn some new recipes for him to try out.
Whenever she's bored, at home or even in class, she often finds herself thinking about what it would be like to actually whip up a meal for him. A bento, lunchbox, for him to bring to school. She'd cook everything that he likes - carrots the colour of his hair, freshly cut salmon, some broccoli - and she hopes to maybe share it with him. She doesn't care about what others would say. It's just him and it's just her, and they're just enjoying the time spent together.
Orihime nearly trips on a step as she thinks about it, almost letting go of the lunchbox, but she'd sooner allow herself to fall than ever release it. Spilling his food all over the floor is the last thing on her list. He wouldn't be too happy about it either.
"Can't catch me, Kurosaki-kun!" she yells over her shoulder, uncaring as to the weird looks sent her way from fellow students and annoyed ones from teachers. "You have to run faster than that! You're too slow."
She doesn't hear anything in response though, and when she looks back, there's no one there. Only teachers and students whose faces she can barely recognize. There are just too many students in the school that she can't remember each and every one of them. She blinks in puzzlement, but continues up the steps all the same until she reaches the top.
The next thing she knows, she is grabbed by the hips from behind, whirled around, her voice coming out in a surprised scream, and pinned to the wall.
"Gotcha!" Ichigo smirks down at her, triumphant though breathing a little laboriously from his sprints throughout the school. "Now, my lunchbox." He holds out a hand. Orihime purses her lips, unwilling to surrender, and pokes him playfully in the cheek.
"You have to let me feed you first."
Slightly taken aback, Ichigo looks from side to side and, seeing that nobody is paying them any attention, pecks her finger and grins. "Okay."