Snow and stone and puffs of white smoke filled Orihime's vision as she quickly walked towards her favorite coffee shop. Her long auburn hair was catching drops of snowflakes so she picked up the pace towards the cafe desperate for its warmth, and itching for her favorite beverage.
Fortunately for her, The Grind was within sight, a bright candle against a blanket of white. Picking up the pace, she jogged the last half block.
The first thing that hit Orihime when she all but slammed the door open, was the strong aroma of coffee beans, cinnamon, newly baked croissants, and fresh pine. Making her way up to the counter, Orihime yelled, "Good morning, Urahara-san"
Popping up from behind the register was a middle aged man wearing black jeans, a green sweater, and a black apron with the words 'The Grind' stitched across in gold thread. His green and white striped bucket hat was haphazardly placed on top of his messy blonde hair.
"Ah! Good morning to you, too, Orihime-chan!"
"You've got your Christmas tree all set up!"
Orihime looked to the decorated tree and smiled, her Monday blues disappearing instantly. The tree was ornately decorated with silver and gold ornaments and little red bows. To top off the pine was a jolly snowman settled at the very top. "It's simple, but you can't go wrong with a classic look; it's beautiful!"
"Well you have me to thank for that," said a woman who emerged from behind a curtain.
"Good morning, Yoruichi-san!"
The dark-skinned woman smiled, tying her purple hair in a high ponytail. "If Kisuke had his way, it'd be hula ladies and bare butt Santa Claus ornaments."
"Nothing wrong with spreading Christmas cheeks-ooof" Immediately, the wind was knocked out of him as Yoruichi jabbed an elbow to his stomach. Wheezing, Urahara corrected himself, "Cheer, I mean Christmas CHEER!"
"It's way too early for this crap." Yoruichi grabbed her black apron and made her way to her register. "Your regular, Orihime-chan?"
"Yes please!" Orihime replied, handing a five dollar bill. Yoruichi mumbled a thanks and set off to make her drink.
Walking towards the Christmas tree, Orihime stopped to admire the pretty bows with silver specks before looking to the wall behind it. A 'Happy Holidays' sign was pinned to the brick wall with a green garland underneath, lining it. The wall was adorned with polaroids of various customers and staff, as well as aesthetic pictures of the cafe's beverages and baked goods.
Orihime looked to all the people with their pretty smiles and funny poses, giggling when she saw one of herself sandwiched between Urahara and Yoruichi. Making a mental note to ask Yoruichi for a copy, she glanced away from her photo to another just below. This one was candid, focused on an individual.
Her brown eyes gazed at the photo of the young man with orange spiked hair and broad shoulders, lean muscled arms folded over his chest. He was sitting at his own table with his books sprawled out and a coffee mug set aside. The polaroid was small, a little dark, but she could still see the sadness etched on his face, his amber eyes dull and downcast.
The longer she looked at the photo, the more her heart beat painfully, and the redder her cheeks became. It wasn't the heat from the cafe that was making her blush, she knew this. It was the young man with vibrant hair color, chiseled jawline, and… sad, pretty face.
There's totally something wrong with you, Orihime.
She looked to his arms again and swallowed thickly.
Yup, Tatsuki's right- I need to get checked.
"Order up!"
A strangled yell escaped Orihime's mouth and she quickly turned around, slightly losing balance. Her heart felt like it had jumped right out of its chest when she was met face to face with Yoruichi and her order of coffee.
"I didn't do it!" Orihime spouted out, trying to calm her heart. The older woman's eyebrow raised in question, golden cat eyes staring at the younger girl in amusement. "I mean," Orihime swallowed, "Wh-what?"
"You okay?" Yoruichi asked slowly, looking her up and down.
"Fine! I'm fine!" Orihime answered hastily, bee lining for the the door. "Late for class, see you later, Yoruichi-san!" Her hand was on the handle ready to turn the knob, until Yoruichi once again called out to her.
"Peppermint hot cocoa, with caramel drizzle and wasabi pretzel stick for Orihime Inoue?"
Inoue stopped abruptly, feeling incredibly foolish at the moment. Taking a breath, she walked back to the barista, a pink tint forming on her cheeks, but this time out of embarrassment. "Sorry, Monday's, ya know?" Orihime nervously explained before grabbing her drink.
Monday's?! That's what we're going with, gah!
"Thanks Yoruichi-san!"
The purple-haired woman hummed in response and watched the jittery girl exit her coffeehouse and head to class. She watched as she almost tripped on who knows what, but noticed her hands expertly holding on to her drink, careful not to drop it.
A bell rang out, interrupting Yoruichi's thoughts. She looked to the door, ready to greet her new customer.
"Good morning, Kurosaki."
Ichigo sat at a corner table on the campus' cafeteria and took a bite out of his apple, his eyes roaming over his notes and comparing them to his textbook. His anatomy final was coming up, and he planned on maintaining his A grade. If he wanted to get into med school, his grades couldn't be less than perfect. Lucky for him, he had a great playlist on, a table to himself, and good notes.
"Ichigo! Found you!"
His head was suddenly shoved down, his headphones slipped off his ears, and he narrowly stopped himself from hitting the table. So much for peace.
"What the hell, Renji?!" Ichigo exclaimed, nursing the back of his head. He could feel his anger building as he glared at the tattooed man settling down onto his table, the smell of his hamburger and fries hitting his senses.
Renji's textbooks hit the table with a loud thud, and Ichigo barely caught his apple from falling off. "Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I'm not saying I'm freaked out, I just don't think I'm ready."
Ichigo looked to him with a mix of confusion before slowly nodding his head in understanding, "It all makes sense- you've escaped," Ichigo affirmed, "but psych wards are there to help you, Renji- did you need me to drive you back?"
"I'm having a crisis, and you're joking about it?"
Ichigo shook his head in agreement, "Oh, I'm sorry- you're right, mental health isn't a joke."
The crimson head stopped unwrapping his burger to look at Ichigo, a serious expression on his face. "You're going to hell, you know that?"
"Okay, what's going on?" Ichigo sighed aloud. The sooner he got to the root of Renji's problem, the faster he could solve it, and maybe then he could finally go back to studying.
"It's Rukia." Renji resumed taking apart his burger. "She asked me if I wanted to move in with her."
"What's wrong with that?" Ichigo watched his friend drench his burger with ketchup before taking a big bite.
"God, pay attention," Renji said, talking through a mouthful of food. "I just don't think I'm ready!" He grabbed a handful of fries and Ichigo looked on in disgust. "And her brother lives there, too, so it's awkward and weird."
"Then don't move in."
Another giant bite. God, how was he even in a relationship. "But what if she gets the wrong message?"
"Then move in."
Renji stopped from taking a bite, realization hitting him. "Do you think it's a test? She wouldn't do that, would she?"
Ichigo could feel the vein in his forehead beginning to throb, "It's really not that hard, Renji- you either move in or you don't. Rukia isn't putting a gun to your head, you can say no."
Renji gave his orange haired friend a pointed look, "The hell has gotten you in a piss mood? If you wanted a french fry, you could ask, you know."
Ichigo clenched his teeth to bite back a remark. He wasn't in the mood to talk about Renji's relationship troubles. They weren't all that complicated to him. Rukia would understand; she'd still love him all the same.
He wouldn't end up losing her in the end.
Instead he ignored him, choosing to continue reading through his notes. He hoped if he paid Renji no mind, he'd leave him to his studying.
"Gross, is that a picture of an actual heart? Dude, I'm trying to eat."
"I got here first, how about you leave."
Ichigo watched as Renji looked to the other photos of exposed parts, his face starting to turn a sickly white, a piece of lettuce hanging off his mouth. "Look away before you faint, you baboon."
"I can't believe you can look at that shit, it's so gross." Renji choked, and when he felt his gag reflex kicking in, he had to look away. "That's why I'm in business. No body parts or blood or-" The wheezing resumed, and Ichigo's eyes rolled at the sad sight.
"Pretty sure we both know the real reason you're in business," Ichigo looked to Renji's gagging fit amusingly. "You're just a wuss."
"Oh fuck you, Kurosaki."
"And mean."
"You're an asshole, you know that?"
"Catheters, needles, rippe-"
Renji lunged for the open book and closed it shut, forcing Ichigo back. Grinning, Ichigo continued, "Dramatic, too. Can I keep going?"
"I'd kill you, but that'd be the easy way out." Renji said, glaring at Ichigo's smug smile.
"Or you're just too scared I'd kick your ass."
Renji was tempted to throw punches, but a flicker of blue immediately crossed his line of vision, distracting him. "Oh my god."
Following Renji's line of sight out the window, Ichigo saw a man with bright cerulean hair, haphazard like he had just gotten out of bed. He was very tall, and even from a short distance, Ichigo could tell the guy was heavily muscled, his arms straining against his jacket.
"Should I dye my hair blue?"
Ichigo wildy looked to him. "It won't be an improvement, so please spare us the horror show."
"You're right, I was actually thinking green."
The apple in Ichigo's hand was aimed for his friend's head but he was cut off by a blur of orange at the corner of his eye. He looked back to the window to find a girl around his age running up to the man with blue hair. Her hair was loose, long, and burnt orange, the color vibrant in the snow.
She looked strangely familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe he had seen her around campus? But, she felt closer somehow, realer…
"That's Inoue." Renji said through a mouthful of food.
"What?"
"Inoue- the girl you're looking at," Renji swallowed, "Her name's Inoue Orihime. We have some classes together."
"Okay?"
Ichigo watched as the guy with blue hair met Inoue halfway and went to grab the three giant books that almost slipped out of her arms. She took a breath and adjusted her backpack before she dragged the giant artist portfolio case down his arm and swung it over her shoulder. Then, the guy must have said something funny because a smile soon lit up her face as she looked up at him.
I know I've seen that smile somewhere.
Renji coughed, getting Ichigo's attention. "She's a little weird, but really sweet. Smart, real pretty, and single, if I remember correctly."
"I need to know this because…?"
"Because you've been staring at her." Renji answered, his voice direct.
"I wasn't staring at her." Ichigo defended, but he couldn't fight the turn of his head when the colorful pair started walking.
"Riighhht- you know what I think, Ichigo?"
He turned to look as Renji paused, contemplating before he leaned forward. "I think you're being too hard on yourself, and it's-"
"Don't." Ichigo whispered, his voice cold and flat, threatening.
Renji didn't flinch and pushed ahead, "It's not fair to the girl whose heart you're going to steal next."
Ichigo immediately gathered his things, shoving papers and index cards into his backpack quickly. Putting on his headphones, he stood up and pushed the table towards Renji's stomach angrily.
"She wouldn't want this for you, and you know it! You're gonna-"
Ichigo cranked up the volume on his phone, almost hurting his eardrums.
He didn't want to hear it.
He was doing so well today, too.
Not once did he take note of the red ribbon tied loosely around his wrist.
Not once did he think about her dancing amber eyes or the one dimple that appeared on her cheek each time she smiled. And she smiled a lot.
No, Ichigo didn't want to hear what Senna would have wanted for him after her death. How could she have possibly known?
Ichigo, you have to know: your story never began with me, so how could it possibly end?
A/N:
This was intentionally supposed to be a one-shot for Christmas/New Year, but it got incredibly long, and I'm also late, so a short story it will be.
Have a safe new year's eve/day!
xoxo,
lovelycollision