Ichigo says he loves her on a snowy night in December.
Orihime doesn't hear him. She's inside her apartment. He's standing down below, staring up at her with the most longing look. He knows he's not supposed to be here; it's Christmas Eve. For a moment, before he stopped, Ichigo shot a glance at the overstuffed grocery bag in his fist.
A gift for Yuzu; a gift for Karin; a gift for Isshin; even an offering for his late mother. Each Christmas, he set aside just a bit of extra time for his family in order to pick out a meaningful present for them. It was a small tradition of his just to show that he cared; that they would be loved too.
And yet, here he was. Watching her bustle around her tiny home, carefully placing tiny ornaments on the branches of the tiny pine tree, one that appeared to be fake. Nonetheless, she had the most cheerful look on her features, her eyes seemed to glow, and her smile was gorgeous and big and beautiful.
No, she was always beautiful.
She always has been.
He looks over at his bag again. He counts the gifts. One, two, three …
He grits his teeth. There wasn't a fourth. There was never a fourth. Why wasn't there a fourth? Ichigo looks back at Orihime again, this time she steps back, analyzing her work. Another smile, and then she bounces into the kitchen. For five – no, ten minutes he stands in silence, blinking and waiting. He's expecting someone to cross before the window, as if her brother. A father. A mother. Tatsuki. Anyone.
But no.
There's nobody.
His fist is so white it reflects the snow. Something inside of him is burning. What has he done? He knows that tomorrow she'll bound up to him and present the yearly box of homemade chocolates; possibly the ones she was making now. It's tearing him up. He's never done anything for her. She's always been there for him … Always.
Completely involuntary, Ichigo stares up at the window again, his eyes becoming clouded. Oh god, was he crying? He wasn't supposed to cry. She was at the window now; he could just barely make out her body shape. He lifts his arm and rubs his eyelids. For a moment, the tears pause. He takes the deepest breath; maybe he was dying.
"I love you, Orihime."
Ichigo says he loves her on a snowy night in December.
Orihime doesn't hear him.