title. brighter than sunshine
disclaimer. BLEACH belongs to Kubo Tite
summary. "We both loved the same woman too much."

note. a random request by angel, inspired by one of her fics. thank you for reading XD review if you have time. Un-beta-ed, because I'm lame. –got hit by stray golf ball-


I love you, I love you, I love you… too much.

.

.

He closed his eyes.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Still, those words weren't enough.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

.

.

you are my little miss sunshine.

you are the sun that stumbles, that falls, that cries.

.

.

Orihime.

That pretty, pretty supernova.

The breeze went past him, ruffling his orange hair, his corduroy jacket. Three years. Three years had passed. It wasn't that long, but to him, it felt like a slice of eternity.

His lids lifted, revealing deep, tired, chocolate eyes.

Rukia told him once— the last time she visited… he could not remember— how much he had aged. He ignored her, but she continued anyway. He aged considerably. Not physically, but his eyes had aged.

You looked even sadder.

He dismissed her observation. But later, he commended her. She was right, as always, that wise, wise noble woman. His looks hadn't age, but there was something about him that aged. Maybe, it was the exhaustion. Or the constant loneliness that filled his handsome face, his chocolate eyes. The bland voice he used.

"Don't follow me."

She had said.

Desperately, he wanted to. He wanted to follow her. And die with her. Die together.

.

.

you are my smiling supernova.

you are the sun that sings loud lullabies.

.

.

His eyes lifted to the old branches of cherry blossom tree. It was old, very old, but in spring, it was stunningly beautiful.

I wanted to be there, where you are. I want to be there.

.

.

"Oh, Kurosaki-kun…"

.

.

I am desperate.

.

.

"…Ichigo…kun."

.

.

I want to go after you.

.

.

I love Ichigo-kun the most. I love you so much…

She whispered one more time, before she smiled her last shining smile. Her smiling face, her smiling eyes.

Pain? It was overwhelming. God, it hurt. It hurt. It hurt. He wanted to die, and die, and die, and die.

But—

"Stay where you are."

She said, don't come after me.

"Don't worry. I'll be fine."

Please… don't cry, she whispered.

But he did, anyway. He felt like his nine year old self again and again and again.

"Smile."

He can't smile, he can't smile, he can't smile— not anymore, not anymore, not anymore.

Breathe.

Be strong.

"Smile for me."

"Live for me."

"Breathe for me."

"Orihime."

That day, she was smiling her oh-so-beautiful smile.

"For me."

.

.

"For … Hayate-kun."

.

.

"ORIHIME!"

.

.

He had never screamed so hard before.

.

.

Running footsteps.

"OTOU-SAAAAAN!"

Grass, dry leaves and petals crunched under the rubber soles of a little boy's sneakers. The footsteps were closer now.

Ichigo half-turned, and saw a blob of orange hair. He began to smile a little.

"OTOU-SAAAAAN!"

His smile turned into a grin.

"Yo."

A boy, nine years old, with bright orange hair and large brown eyes huffed before him. The boy was scowling, his height a bit tall for his age. Every inch of his son resembled him. Except for his eyes.

Those were her eyes. Big, warm, and kind.

"Otou-san!"

Ichigo grinned, cocking an eyebrow. "…What? Got scared?"

The boy glared, and he was vaguely reminded of her glare when he told her red bean paste kingdom did not exist.

Instead of retorting, the boy turned to the blank, silver tombstone. It stood beside the giant cherry blossom tree, watching sunsets and sunrises, the vast forest below the cliff, Vega, Polaris, Altair and many more stars.

"Kaa-chan!"

Ichigo's face softened.

"Please do something! Hit him! Please? I'm still short but sooner, I'll grow taller and hit his head myself!"

.

.

"For me."

He tightened his hold on her.

"For… Hayate-kun."

.

.

"Hayate."

"Yeah?" the boy said without looking up to him, rubbing his palms over the stone. When the silence prolonged, Hayate looked up to him.

When he looked down to his son's face, into those eyes— the eyes of the woman he loved and still loved, the woman who lived and died, the woman who loved him and still loved him — it felt as though it was the nine year old Orihime staring up at him.

He pressed his teeth together— "For… Hayate-kun."

He can see her smiling at him. It was painful, but he continued visualizing her face, her smile, her eyes—

"Kurosaki-kun!"

—listening to her voice, her laughter, her last words.

"Oi."

Ichigo blinked.

"What is it, Ichi…go?" The boy was grinning mischievously, obviously making fun of his name. Ichigo twitched a little, and glanced at the tombstone.

Kurosaki Orihime.

Urahara called her Kurosaki-chan, making her blush. Uryu called her Kurosaki-san, and she would sweetly scold him for being so formal. Chad called her Kurosaki, and she would correct him patiently, Orihime, please call me Orihime. Rukia called her Kurosaki-pyon, just to spite the husband.

"Always remember."

Hayate raised an eyebrow.

"That I live for your sake."

The boy's eyebrows shot up in surprise and confusion. "Eh?"

Brown eyes hardened, but it was overflowing with tiredness, longing, pain, despair, heartbreaking loneliness and maybe— a little bit of happiness.

"For you. I only lived for you sake."

.

.

you are the sunshine that tickles.

you are the sun that never sets.

.

.

"And because your mother… she-" Hayate watched his father struggle, saw those pained brown eyes hide behind a scowl. He was young, but he was observant. His aunt Tatsuki always said how smart he was. His father never showed it, but he knew each day was a struggle to his father. But Hayate understood. The death of his mother taught him the concept of mortality.

His father took a deep breath, and said, "She wants… me to live."

Hayate looked back to his mother's tombstone. He heard from aunt Tatsuki that his mother's body wasn't there.

It was gone.

But his father insisted a remembrance to be erected for her. In a place she loved so much. The place where he told her he loved her.

"But right now… I also wanted to die."

.

.

please don't take away my sunshine.

my little miss sunshine.

.

.

Hayate nodded. "To see Kaa-chan."

Ichigo looked startled for a while, then he smiled, and turned a tender gaze towards his son. He inherited her mother's brains. Ichigo hoped his son inherited only her intelligence, not her scary imagination.

"But you are here."

Their eyes met.

Ichigo furrowed his brow, looking for words to convey his message. "Your mother and I are different. I can't be as cheerful and nice like your mother." He put a hand on top of Hayate's head. "But do not forget."

.

.

I love Ichigo-kun the most. I love you so much…

Kurosaki-kun!

.

.

"You are the reason why I strive to live everyday."

I love you… so much.

"And I will live long— for you."

The boy frowned, a very Kurosaki frown. "Hai. Otou-san. I will always remember."

Ichigo grinned slightly. "Good." He gave his boy two gentle taps on the head before shoving his hand back in his pocket.

"Ne, Otou-san."

"Yeah?"

"I will become stronger like you!" Hayate looked up to his father determinedly. "And when the time comes that you really, really want to see Kaa-chan," he smiled, and to see that smile hurt Ichigo— because it was her smile, "…You can go."

Ichigo's eyes slightly widened.

"I'll be fine."

.

.

Rukia started to cry, shaking, and falling to her knees. Sobs racked her small body. Renji feared that she'll break into pieces. "No… No… no—"

"ORIHIME!"

.

.

And Renji never heard him cry out like that before. And he knew, the sound will haunt him forever.

.

.

And when his son smiled another Orihime smile, strangely, it didn't hurt anymore.

Hime.

He can hear her laugh somewhere.

Ichigo grinned crookedly and ruffled Hayate's hair. The boy pouted, but grinned back.

I miss you, Hime.

He watched as Hayate bent down at the tombstone's level.

"I love you, Kaa-chan— buuuut more than Otou-san, so don't worry, okay!"

His grin widened. But, please, wait a little bit longer. After all, I have to make sure our boy doesn't grow up like Kiego.

"But hey, Ichigo." His eyebrow twitched at his son's playful impertinence. "I'll love you more if you let me play with Kiego-san!"

A vein pounded over his temple. "Brat."

"Ichigo!"

More veins throbbed that he feared they'll burst. "I am your father, Hayate."

"I know, Kurosaki Ichigo." Hayate shook his head, scrunching his nose. "Ah, thank god you didn't name me after a fruit." Ichigo twitched at his son's mockery. "But my hair is orange."

He scowled. "How many times do I have to tell you that my name is not strawberry. It means 'to protect', you brat!"

"Yeah, yeah…"

Vein still throbbing, Ichigo gestured to his son. "Let's go."

The boy leaned closer to the tombstone. "Kaa-chan, I love you, I love you, I love you."

It was heartbreakingly familiar.

"Hayate."

The boy shot him a glare. "What? I just love Kaa-chan too much."

.

.

I love you, I love you, I love you… too much.

.

.

He snorted. "Suck up."

Hayate stuck out his tongue at him. "Bye, Kaa-chan! See ya! Tatsuki-san promised to give me loads of red bean paste sandwich and wasabi-flavored cotton candy! Isn't it great, Kaa-chan?!"

Ichigo sighed, rubbing his temple. He got her intelligence, alright, but she also gave their son her weird taste buds. The boy ran back to their car.

"Hime." He sighed. "He's weird, just like you."

Kurosaki-kun!

"But he is truly my son."

.

.

"What? I just love Kaa-chan too much."

.

.

With a small grin, he looked up to the clear, blue sky.

"We both love the same woman too much."

.

.

you are brighter than sunshine.

you are brighter than sunshine.


.end