Title: Under a Starry Sky
Disclaimer: These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.
Author's Note: Tanabata time is here, folks! As such, it's time for the FLOL 2010 Tanabata contest! This fic is an entry, and it's finally time to post it! Please enjoy!
Orihime looked up at the night sky, shielding her eyes from the street lights with her hand. No, there was not a star in the sky.
She had been suspicious when she'd stepped outside that night to run an errand, noting the absence of even moonlight. But as she left the store she'd needed to visit and the moist summer air hit her face, the heavy breeze coming in hot puffs, she realized exactly what was coming. Normally, Orihime would have gone outside to play in that kind of weather, maybe even without shoes. But trying to make her way home through a rain storm with her purchases and without an umbrella was a different story.
She held the little vase with the bamboo arrangement closer to her chest as she felt another droplet hit her face. It wouldn't be long now, she realized fretfully. It wasn't the bamboo she was concerned for; the little green plant loved water. No, it was the pack of special paper she held in one hand. If it rained on that, it would be ruined, and half of her errand would've been for nothing.
After another second, the sky opened fully and began to pour. The water came down in sheets, torrents quickly washing over the streets of Karakura with the force of a tidal wave. While others on the sidewalk opened umbrellas or ran for shelter, Orihime squealed her futile protest into the rain and clutched her purchases tighter to her chest, hoping to shield them from the falling water.
"Oh no!" she cried, actually nearly in tears, "It'll be ruined!" But just as suddenly as it began, the rain stopped. Orihime blinked, clearing her eyes of the little rivers of water that were running down her face. Finally convinced the rain had stopped, Orihime looked up. No, the rain had not actually stopped, nor had some kind of government microwave-powered weather-controlling satellite been used. Instead, Orihime found herself staring at the tight, t-shirted chest of her red-haired and scowling classmate, Kurosaki Ichigo. And he was holding an umbrella over her head.
Orihime thought she might spontaneously combust at the idea of being under the same umbrella as Ichigo. Her cheeks were absolutely on fire as she righted herself and stared intently at her soggy shoes.
"Th-Thank you, Kurosaki-kun," she stammered, unable to meet her crush's curious stare.
"What'll be ruined?" he asked, causing her to turn her attention back to his face.
"Huh?" She returned his question, still clutching her bamboo and her little packet of paper to her chest.
"You said something's gonna be ruined," Ichigo said attentively, his voice barely registering above the pitter-patter of rain drops. "What were you talking about?" Orihime's bottom lip trembled as she held up the slender pack of paper.
"My tanzuki," she said rather miserably, "I didn't realize it was going to rain when I left my apartment, so I didn't bring my umbrella." Ichigo regarded her with an interested expression.
"That's right," he remarked, almost to himself, "That is tomorrow, isn't it?" Orihime's face moved from red-cheeked embarrassment to curiosity.
"You forgot?" she asked, as if it was the strangest thing in the world. How could someone forget such an important holiday as Tanabata? It was only the most romantic, amazing, historical, and all-around amazing holiday of the year! Well, maybe besides Girls Day and Valentine's. Sadly, Orihime's new-found companion didn't seem to share her enthusiasm. Ichigo simply scratched his cheek absentmindedly as he looked off into some vague shop window down the street in response. Maybe it was different for boys?
"Well, it's never really been as big a deal to me as it is to Yuzu and the old man," he said, his voice thoughtful, "I'm usually more concerned with thinking up ways to avoid his ideas for birthday parties, honestly." Orihime giggled just a bit, earning her a small smile from Ichigo. Leave it to him to be able to make her laugh, even when she was soaked to the bone in the middle of a summer storm. This also reminded her that his birthday was in nine days; she still needed to decide on a present for him.
"Come on, I'll walk you home," Ichigo finally said, turning to go. Orihime perked up, her cheeks staining bright red as her laughter died.
"Y-Y-You don't have to do that, Kurosaki-kun!" she stammered. If she hadn't been holding the vase and the paper, her hands would've been waving frantically in front of her chest just then.
"Don't be silly," he replied, looking over his shoulder at her, "You just said you don't have an umbrella, right? If you walk home in this rain, your paper's gonna be ruined." Orihime's cheeks burned as he reminded her of what had been so important to her just a few minutes ago.
"W-Well, if it's alright with you," she said sheepishly, "I don't want to put you out..." Ichigo smiled at her reassuringly.
"You never put me out, Inoue," he replied warmly, "Let's go before you catch a cold, alright?" Orihime snapped her mouth shut, nodded curtly, and followed as Ichigo began to walk in the direction of her apartment.
She had to walk faster than normal to keep up with him, his long strides making almost two of hers. After scurrying along to keep up with him for a few minutes, though, he seemed to catch on that he was out-pacing her and slowed just enough that she didn't have to rush. Orihime breathed in relief, and perhaps a bit more embarrassment; a man and a woman walking slowly under an umbrella in the rain was a classic romantic image, wasn't it?
As she adjusted to the more comfortable pace, she looked over to her companion again. He wasn't far from her now, their shoulders about a hand's width apart, and she could swear she could almost feel the heat his body radiated. Or maybe she was just cold from having had so much water dumped on her at once? Or maybe that was just the heat from the blush she was sure she was now wearing.
Walking like this, shoulder-to-shoulder under the same umbrella, Orihime realized that they must surely look like a couple. If she were honest with herself, this wasn't the first time she'd thought how good they'd look together, either. With his bright red hair and her deep auburn hair, they almost looked like they could be foreign tourists from their own country or even delinquents in the same motorcycle gang. All they needed were the long tokkou-fuku jackets with kanji written down the back, and maybe an imperial flag. All those thoughts certainly made her feel a bit warmer, especially around her cheeks.
"It'll suck if it rains like this tomorrow," Ichigo remarked, breaking the silence, "It'd rain out the street fairs..." Orihime lifted her head to see him looking out at the rain as they walked.
"If it rains like this tomorrow," Orihime said seriously, "Then Orihime-sama won't get to see her husband for another year. I would be sad for her..." Ichigo laid a hand on her back, right between her shoulder blades.
"It's just a folktale, Inoue," he said, barely suppressing the amusement in his voice. Orihime pouted up at him, if for no other reason than to hide the fact that he was making her stomach flip-flop and her heart beat hard.
"It would still be sad," she said, the pout audible in her voice, "They were supposed to be so in love, but now they can only see each other once a year. And that's only if it doesn't rain! The Sky King was being really unfair to them!" Ichigo's eyes softened.
"You're really into this holiday, aren't you?" He asked, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a small smile, "I didn't really peg you as the romantic type, Inoue." Well, that was certainly true to an extent; she had always been more concerned with zombies and space aliens and destructobeams than with romance. There was also the fact that the boy beside her gave her enough romantic drama to last a lifetime, probably without even knowing it.
"When Onii-chan was alive," she began, a wistful smile on her face, "He treated it almost like a second birthday for me. We used to write down wishes together, lots of them. I would wish for things like vampire unicorns and an inugami to keep as a pet. Even though I never got any of that stuff, the wishing was the fun part." She was smiling warmly now at the memory, almost oblivious to the look Ichigo was giving her.
"I'd hope you didn't get a vampire unicorn," he commented wryly, "They'd go after you once they sucked all the other unicorns dry." For a second, his face looked deadly serious. That look combined with the ridiculousness of what he was saying made Orihime giggle. And of course, once she started giggling, a satisfied smirk snuck its way across his lips.
"Don't be silly," she chided playfully, "Everyone knows vampire unicorns don't drink human blood! They have very sensitive digestive tracts!" She couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him a little now.
"Oh, of course," Ichigo replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "How could I have forgotten? I guess you could have the inugami, though. A little extra protection never hurt." Orihime smiled despite herself. Even though she didn't want her friends to take any unnecessary risks for her sake, she knew Ichigo just wanted to protect her. And if she had a spirit dog protecting her, well, that just meant he wouldn't have to get hurt anymore, right?
"I'll remember that when it really is my birthday," she quipped, grinning, "And I'll remember to feed it and take good care of it, too! Oh! We're here!"
They stopped before the narrow metal stairs leading up to Orihime's small apartment. As she looked up to her front door and the little concrete landing it stood upon, she began to shift her belongings to get her keys from her purse.
"Here, let me," Ichigo said, taking the unwieldy bamboo from her, as well as the tanzuki. He waited patiently while she dug through the contents of her purse - lip gloss, sunscreen, old movie tickets, buttons, a tube of wasabi (she never knew when she'd need that) - until she finally found her keys. But when she went to take the bamboo from him, he didn't give back the paper.
"Kurosaki-kun?" she asked, watching as he took his turn digging through his pockets. Finally, he found what he was hunting, pulling out a pen with an 'aha'.
"I don't usually make wishes," he said, scribbling something on one of the tanzuki before turning the written side inward and attaching it to the bamboo plant, "But I thought I'd make an exception this year." He smirked as Orihime's cheeks colored, watching her fluster as he handed back her pack of paper.
"It'll be safe with you, right?" he asked, causing Orihime to launch into a vigorous, determined nod.
"I'll protect Kurosaki-kun's wish with my life!" She exclaimed, causing him to snort a stifled laugh.
"You don't have to go that far," he said, patting her wet head, "I'll see you tomorrow, alright?" Orihime looked up at him through her wet bangs, slowly opening her eyes. This was probably the most cheerful she'd seen him in a while. Her stomach fluttering, she wondered if it was because of her.
"See... See you tomorrow, Kurosaki-kun," she said shyly before reluctantly turning away to climb the stairs of her apartment. He lingered on the sidewalk outside, watching her go.
"Don't catch a cold, Inoue!" he called after her finally, receiving a smile in return as she opened her door.
"I won't."
After a hot shower, Orihime sat before the windowsill where she'd placed the bamboo plant and contemplated what she could ask for that year.
She already had her health and a whole roomful of wonderful friends. Her friends even had their health, with the exception of Ukitake-san, but she suspected he was used to his delicate condition by now and no amount of wishes would fix that. She had more than enough to eat, thanks to the relatives that supported her. She had nice clothes to wear, sturdy shoes, a TV, a kotatsu in the winter, desk fans in the summer, and a nice, cozy futon to sleep in. Really, she had reason to want for nothing.
In fact, there was really only one thing she could think of to wish for. With rosy cheeks, she took her brush pen and wrote on the long paper.
'This year, I want to be able to talk to Kurosaki-kun more.'
Satisfied with her handwriting, Orihime nodded firmly. She attached the little sheet of creamy, flowery yellow paper to one of the bamboo branches on the other side of the arrangement from the powder blue one Ichigo had tied on. When she was satisfied it looked even, yet somewhat asymmetrical, she stood back and reveled in her artistic sensibilities.
But when she tried to turn to go about her evening routine, she found that something was stopping her. Her eyes kept drifting back to Ichigo's paper, fluttering in the damp breeze from the open window. She knew she really, really, really shouldn't peek at his wish, but it was such an overpowering curiosity that she could barely resist. It was a violation of his privacy and his trust, it was totally wrong... but the urge to look was overpowering! In fact, she even imagined the little paper as a strange magnet made specifically for drawing her attention!
Finally, uttering an inaudible apology to her absent classmate, Orihime flipped the tanzuki over to read it.
'No reading other people's wishes, Inoue!'
Orihime blinked once, then twice, then she realized that he must have known she would peek. Her cheeks burned as she turned the paper back over, thoroughly embarrassed.
"K-Kurosaki-kun!"
Meanwhile, at the Kurosaki residence, one half of the pair of sisters that lived there had noticed something amiss with her own bamboo arrangement.
"Karin-chan?" the blonde sister, Yuzu called to her twin. The black-haired girl turned from her hand-held game to favor her sister with a curious look.
"Yeah?" she asked, noting her fraternal twin's perplexed expression.
"Did you... make any weird wishes?" Yuzu asked, pointing out the one paper that looked unlike the others. It was pastel yellow, with little pink peach flowers and songbirds on it. "I don't think this is our paper, either."
"No," Karin said, shaking her head, "Why? What does it say?" She leaned forward to get a better look at the odd, fancy paper and the measured handwriting scrolling down it.
"'I want to be an inugami'," Yuzu answered, causing her sister to mirror her perplexed expression.
Nine days had passed.
Orihime fastidiously tended the bamboo on her windowsill, watering it and making sure it got plenty of western sunlight during the day. It even grew a few sprouts while she was caring for it.
Unlike the wish papers that had been tied to them, she didn't burn the little bamboo plants she bought each year. No, those she took to the local cemetery on the fifteenth, Obon, and left it as an offering on her brother's grave. He was the one to teach her about the holiday, after all, and even though he was surely now in Soul Society, she still figured he'd appreciate the gesture.
So today, she had swept the lonely little grave free of the debris, twigs, and leaves that had accumulated since her last visit. She washed it with soapy water. She lit three long sticks of incense before the headstone, the smoke wafting up thickly into the sky to mingle with the smoke from other graves whose family members had similar ideas. She even laid out three peanut butter and pickled plum onigiri for her brother, in case he actually got to travel to the human world today; those were his favorite, and such a long journey would certainly make him hungry.
As Sora's grave was located amongst long-dead great-grandparents and in a quiet part of the cemetery, Orihime could talk to him as much as she wanted, even today. So she poured her heart out in prayer to her missing brother, as she often did most days throughout the year before his picture at home. She told him about traveling to Soul Society, about rescuing Rukia and about all the amazing people she'd met along the way. She told him about the Arrancar, and about how scary they were. She told him about the Vizards, although she hadn't know that's what they were called at the time, and about how they helped her and Ichigo. Even though she'd already told him all these things throughout the year, it felt good to revisit them on this special day.
And she also told him about her stay in Hueco Mundo. Not enough to scare or worry him, oh no! But she wanted her big brother to understand just how brave and amazing all her friends were, especially Ichigo. She knew he had been jealous of her crush when he'd returned as a hollow, and a part of her still wanted to show him that there was really nothing to fear from the redheaded Vizard. She wanted him to know that Ichigo had done as good a job looking after her as Sora himself had done. If he thought she wasn't being taken care of, after all, how could his soul find peace?
As she finished her prayers, she didn't notice the woman that silently padded up to her.
"You did a lovely job cleaning it," the lady remarked, "Is it your father or mother?" Completely startled, Orihime fell from her crouched position onto her rump with a squeak.
"E-Ehhh!" she stammered, blushing, "I-I'm sorry, ma'am! I didn't hear you walk up!" She fervently hoped this woman hadn't heard too much of what she'd been saying; the best Orihime could hope for would be for her to simply think she was bonkers.
"It's alright," the older woman responded, crouching down beside Orihime to read the gravestone, "Inoue Sora?"
"U-Uhn," she replied, "He's my big brother." She sat up again, rubbing her bottom where she'd fallen. The lady, who looked to be in her early thirties and still very pretty, gave her a serene smile.
"You must be a very good little sister then," she remarked, "To come and clean his grave all by yourself." Orihime smiled back at her; there was something about this woman that instantly put her at ease.
"We don't have any other family," she said wistfully, watching the incense smoke curl over Sora's headstone. The older woman placed a hand on her back, a sad smile on her face.
"It's alright," she said softly, "My family never comes here on Obon. They always have other things to do today." Orihime looked scandalized.
"But... But if they don't come out today, how will your family members on the other side feel? What if they come back and there's no one here to greet them?" Her voice reflected genuine concern; she knew more about ghosts than most people her age, and how they shouldn't really be able to come back to visit on Obon, but tradition could be a hard thing to shake. The woman gave her a smile in return, all sadness gone.
"It's fine," she said, "They come out earlier in the year, so it's not as though the grave is untidy or anything. It's quite a scene when they do come, actually." Orihime blinked in relief; at least they visited and kept their family grave clean.
"What's that you've got there?" the woman asked, suddenly shifting the conversation back to Orihime and her brother's grave. Orihime lifted the little box of onigiri she'd brought with a smile.
"Oh! I made these for me and Onii-chan!" She responded happily, "Would you like to try one? I made an extra!" The lady suppressed a small laugh as her stomach growled in response.
"Oh my! I suppose that's a yes!"
The two women bit into their onigiri, crinkling the nori wrapping as they chewed.
"I hope you like them," Orihime said brightly as a small speck of rice clung precociously to her cheek, "They're pickled plum and peanut butter!"
The woman blinked in surprise for a second before smiling broadly and taking another bite.
"It's not a combination I would've thought of, but it's not bad," the other woman said thoughtfully. Orihime gaped at her for a second before blushing heavily as a broad smile broke out across her face.
"Oh, thank you!" she cried happily, grateful for the complement; her cooking got so few, after all.
The two sat at the grave and talked for quite a while. Orihime told the older woman about her friends and school. It was a lot of the same things she usually told Sora about, with all the shinigami and hollows cut out. She even told her about her crush on Ichigo, which earned her some good-natured ribbing. And in return, the lady told her about her wonderful husband and adorable son.
After a time, though, the sun began to move towards the western horizon, and Orihime realized she was going to be late for Ichigo's birthday party if she didn't hurry.
"Is there somewhere else you need to be?" the kind lady solicited. Orihime stuffed her worry down and gave her new friend a shaky smile.
"U-Uhn," she affirmed, "There's a birthday party I'm supposed to go to! I'm sorry, Obaa-san, I've kept you so long today, I'm sure you want to get back to your husband and son." As Orihime stood and dusted off her knees through her long skirt, the long-haired lady smiled warmly at her.
"Obaa-san?" she asked, following Orihime to her feet with a wry smile, "That makes me sound so old!" Orihime cocked her head to the side in thought and brought a finger to her lips.
"Onee-san doesn't sound quite right, though," Orihime mused, her eyebrows puckering as she debated this dilemma. The woman with the long, wavy hair simply laughed as she patted Orihime's head.
"How about Okaa-san?" the lady suggested, causing Orihime to snap her head up with a deep blush.
"I-I couldn't call you that!" she protested, waving her arms in front of her, "That's really... really..." She was answered with a wink and a mischievous smile that Orihime was sure she recognized from somewhere.
"Of course you can, Orihime-chan," the woman reassured her, "But if you stay here much longer, you're going to be late for Ichigo's birthday party." A look of utter shock crossed Orihime's face as she turned to look up at the older, sandy-haired woman with the familiar brown eyes.
"How did you know my na-"
Before she could finish her sentence, however, the woman was gone. She had vanished like a phantom into the Obon evening mist.