AN: I do not own BLEACH.
"Kurosaki-kun." Orihime's voice was silvery. It hadn't changed much over the years. Only her face showed the age. There were tiny laughter lines. Her hair though, was still the same rich thick colour of autumn. She was now thirty-six. Ichigo had not seen her since she was fifteen. Twenty-one years.
Coward. The monster inside of him spat the word out forcedly. Ichigo recoiled inwardly.
"I'm dying, Kurosaki-kun."
The words hit him. They hit him with shock, with brutality and with fear.
Fear would not keep him from being hurt. It would not stop the pain coursing through his body. Would not stop the tears.
"Cancer they say." She said it conversationally. As though describing what she and Ishida had had for dinner.
"Inoue…"
"No. Don't. It'll be quick they said. Ishida's father insisted on chemotherapy though. It means I have about two more years left. I don't mind. I'm finished with life now I think. I've lived happily after all."
'Happy?' Ichigo couldn't remember what made him happy. He tried. His head ached. People weren't supposed to forget how to feel the best feeling in the world. People were really supposed to forget the stupid, sad feelings. He flipped through the thousands and millions of memories in his head. He couldn't… remember.
"Inoue… Please."
"How has your life been, Kurosaki-kun?"
"Fine." Ichigo was a bad liar.
"That's good." Orihime pretended not to know, and she smiled.
"And Kuchiki-san?" She added hopefully.
Ichigo closed his eyes.
Rukia.
The girl who had changed his life. Who had stopped the rain.
She had never stopped this rain. Not really. You see, after the battle in which the General Captain Commander died, Yamamoto, Ichigo had fled. He had fled to Soul Society, but he had also fled mentally, had shut people out.
"She's fine. She loves Renji. They're happy."
There it was, that word again. Happy.
"Oh, wow, lovely."
Orihime had told him. Had told him, when he thought he might die from pain. Had bent down, and whispered in his ear.
'I…'
"Orihime, do-"
"No."
'Need…'
"Please, Orihime…
'You to live. Please, Kurosaki-kun. I want you to live. If you die now, I'll die. Please… Ichigo. I love you. And now I've said it. I'm so scared, and sometimes I wish I did not exist, because if I didn't this wouldn't have happened. Please live. I love you.'
"It doesn't matter, Kurosaki-kun. You could never have loved me. I'm glad you were honest."
That smile. Hadn't he seen that smile? A million times when he was younger.
The forced smile. Wanting to be happy, but secretly being so sad that sometimes you just wanted to crawl in to a hole and not exist. Not die. More not have to feel anything. Just become immune to the emotions that raged around outside.
"Thank you, Kurosaki-kun. For saving me back then. I never got the chance to tell you. Thank you. For saving me when you didn't need to. It was a nice feeling."
The silence permeated the hospital room. A drip of blood going through the IV. Dark and red. Her blood was ill.
"Why don't you heal yourself, Inoue? You could heal yourself so easily. Why?"
"That's holding on to life isn't it? I don't want to cling to life, if life is done with me, I'm sure I would get annoying." She smiled again.
"Besides!" she chirped happily, like a bird "Ukitake-san said I would be some sort of soul with abilities. It's not like you won't see me again. I don't know why you're worrying."
That's right. He would see her. Ukitake-san. Funnily enough the only captain he had any respect for. So why was he worried? It was unnecessary.
"Neh, Kurosaki-kun. Please… Would you maybe keep an eye out for my children?"
"Children?" His voice was dull. The word echoed.
"Yes. Two of them. Otani and Masumi. They're both quite young still. Just save them pain. Please."
…
Ichigo didn't know why he was doing this. He was watching the two children. They were playing in the garden, as children do. A boy and a girl. Both of them were smiling.
The girl looked exactly like Orihime at first glance. But then, you looked closer. Her eyes were deep blue pools. Ocean eyes. Ishida's eyes. Not Orihime's sparkling grey ones. The set of her jaw was different as well. Much more determined, much more ambitious.
The boy was exactly like Ishida, down to the last detail. The only different thing about him, was how much he laughed, not at all like Ishida. He smiled all the time.
Ichigo turned his attention to Ishida. Most likely, Ishida could sense him, but if he could do so, he did not give any indication of doing so.
Ishida's face had not aged much. His hair was a lighter shade of the blue it had been, and his mouth was turned upwards slightly at the corners. Living with Orihime had done that. Ichigo felt suddenly envious. Ishida had always been there for her. Had lifted her back off the ground, when she had fallen from her stars.
He had sewn her back together, had found all her pieces, had sewn her together at the seams, when her smile had split.
He had healed her.
Masumi's laugh brought him back to earth. She had found a hedgehog among the autumn leaves. A young one apparently, it paws were still pink. She picked it up, ignoring the prickles, which drew blood from her fingers.
Otani recoiled visibly.
"Masumi, put him down! You'll get hurt!" Orihime's concern.
Masumi ignored her younger brother. She knelt down. Ichigo's eyes widened for a fraction of a second. The child had found a small family of hedgehogs. She places the younger one in the midst, stood up and wiped her hands on her pristine white dress, leaving red streaks in her wake.
…
Ishida's father rarely visited his son. He had his reasons. But tonight it was necessary. He lit a cigarette. The nicotine helped calm his brain. Sent a numbness through his body. Let his tangled emotions rest for a mere while.
A mist hung through the streets. It dimmed the street lamps so they were only yellow spheres floating in mid air. Winter had set in Karakura.
Had set early. Maybe it had something to do with that.
He walked up the drive way, past the flowers which Orihime had kept so well, she has sung to them, and when Ryuken asked, she explained it was to help them grow.
The flowers were dead now, they slept through winter.
The door was opened by his granddaughter.
Masumi smiled up at him, her eyes so much like his son's.
"Hello grandpa. Do come in, I baked cake today, you can try some if you like!"
He smiled. Orihime had made him smile more often. Now he did it unconsciously.
"I'm sure it's delicious."
…
"Ishida… Orihime, she-"
"I know. Don't waste your breath. She's gone. I felt it."
It was only then that Ryuken noticed the tissues, and the bottles of alcohol hidden behind the bookcase. Of course Ishida knew.
And when Ishida turned to him, he could see the tears clinging to his son's eyelashes.
…
Masumi was eight now. It had been one year since her mother had died.
She was writing a school assignment. Well… Thinking about it.
Her mother had always told her to aim to be happy in life… When she grew up she wanted to be happy. She didn't want to be a doctor, or a baker, or a nurse. She wanted to be happy.
So she wrote one word.
Happy.
Her teachers told her she did not understand the assignment.
Masumi told them, they did not understand life.
…
There she was. She was in a strawberry field picking the ripe fruit. A sun hat sat precariously on her head. Her white dress was stained with strawberry juice. It billowed around her and she clapped her hat to her head to stop it from flying away. Too late.
Her hat flew in Ichigo's direction. Ichigo bent down and picked it up. She ran towards him, basket of fruit in her arms, awkward and embarrassed smile on her lips.
"Ah, sorry! I didn't mean to do that!"
'She's apologizing for the wind. What?'
But then Ichigo noticed her fairies. They flew in circles above her head. They looked different. More solid, much stronger. Their wings were more like a swallow's, more air-streamed. Tsubaki's face showed. Set jaw, determined face. His scar ran down the length of his face. And Ichigo also noticed how when they flew past there was a breeze. Not strong but he supposed if they were to go full out, there would definitely be a strong wind.
Enough to knock off her sunhat.
"Sir, may I have my sunhat?" She smiled at him, eyes crinkled, hair caught up in the breeze.
She was beautiful.
But she couldn't… Couldn't remember who the hell he was. Ukitake had warned him that that would be the case. But it hurt like hell.
He handed her sunhat to her, and added quickly, "You needn't call me 'sir'."
She smiled at him, and said "Oh, but you see, you are a Captain of the thirteen Shinigami squads! Of the Fith I see. We are taught here to respect our superiors!"
Ichigo's eyes softened. Of course. Un Rukongai, it was like that. You were taught to fear the captains. They killed peasants for sport. Or at least the ones like Kenpachi, Mayuri, Aizen had, and so had Gin. Aizen and Gin of course were gone now but… The rumours, they lingered.
She put it nicely. 'Respect.'
"There's no need for it though. You can call me Ichigo if you want."
Her eyes widened, and he mouth dropped in to a comical 'O'.
"That's a girl's name!" She giggled. But then she stopped suddenly.
"But it also means strength, doesn't it?" Here her eyes glowed.
"Would you like a strawberry?" She proffered him her basket. He took one. It was like a firework. The taste burst across his tongue, sending an electric jolt down his spine.
"They're good aren't they?"
He nodded, but a memory was drifting to the top of his brain. Her daughter had made a strawberry cake on the day of Orihime's death. Karma. What a bitch.
"Orihime…" He did not realize he had said her name out loud until she looked at him suspiciously.
"How do you know my name?" Here her voice quavered somewhat.
"I'm good at guessing."
She seemed to accept this lame explanation. There she was. Always accepting, always trusting.
"Do you know what they're for?" Here, Ichigo gestured at her fairies.
She looked somewhat puzzled, her brows knitted together.
"Do you know, I'm not sure. They follow me around. I try to talk to them, but they don't seem to be able to. Or maybe they don't want to. I don't know." Here she seemed to droop. Her hair hanging over her face. A copper waterfall.
But she brightened up quickly.
"But you know, I'm sure they have a purpose, otherwise they wouldn't be here." Her sparkling grey eyes crinkled.
'Every word she says, I think I should write down.' That is what crossed Ichigo's mind.
'Just to read over her conversations, to trace her past through spoken words. I wonder if she ever said I love you to Ishida.'
"Do you know Ishida?" The question fell heavily, like boulders. They cracked the earth on which Ichigo stood, so he felt like he was falling.
"Ishida?" Her eyes seemed to focus on something, to grasp wildly, like a videotape being played backwards. And then the moment was over.
"Nope!" She smiled again rocking on the balls of her feet.
"Neh, I need to go finish strawberry picking, do you mind? Or do you want to help?"
Ichigo looked up at the sky. The cirrus clouds flew slowly across the pale blue sky.
"I've got time."
…
Ishida lay down on the warm grass. The sunlight shone down on him. Warm. It reminded him of her smile. How she had laughed. He could still remember exactly where every freckle was, on the bridge of her nose, he could still trace her laughter lines, could still feel her water fall of red. Could still remember how she would walk, and how she would seem to do everything by accident. When she poured water, it always looked like she had accidentally poured it in to her glass.
The wind whispered. Ishida fell asleep. He dreamed of her arms lifting him up. Higher and higher, until he reached the skies.
…
"Ishida…"
"Orihime."
Her breathing rasped. She was being supported with a breathing machine. The IV dripped, and the monitors beeped. Red blood was pumping through her veins.
"I…"
"Shh, please, don't say a thing. Just… Breathe."
But she continued to struggle to form words.
"I… l-love…"
"Shh."
"…you."
Ishida's heart jumped. He was soaring through the skies, he was falling from a cliff, he was underwater, he was holding his breath.
He released a sigh.
"I love you too."
Orihime's eyes shut. Underneath all the plastic wire which led to her throat, a faint smile could be seen.
…
A butterfly flitted past the house of squad five. Ichigo watched it's progress. It was a simple butterfly, white. But when it's wings caught the sunlight, it seemed to glow.
Ichigo sighed. He turned back to his paperwork.
His stomach growled. He frowned.
A knock.
Hinamori entered.
She wore her hair loose. Apart from that she had not changed outwardly. Apart from her face. There was a determined air about it, her jaw was set forward, brave.
For a long time, she had complained about how Ichigo was a rubbish captain, about how he never did paperwork and about how lazy he was. About he did not even compare to Aizen.
Until one day Ichigo had flipped. He had yelled at her to grow up. Had said many things he might not have, or perhaps should not have.
But it had seemed to be an antidote. He had snapped her out of her state of what appeared to be some sort of Stockholm Syndrome. Something which her friends had failed in doing so. But Ichigo was good at that. Good at changing people.
"This arrived for you."
Hinamori proffered him a package.
"Thanks."
He waited until she had left to open it. It was from Orihime.
Inside it there was a small box of strawberries. They glistened, ripe, and delicious.
Ichigo's furrowed brow relaxed. An involuntary grin formed on his face.
He began to eat.
…
AN: :) Hi. 8D Hokay, so I don't know? Love it? Hate it? Not bothered? Constructive criticism please! :D