Memories in the Rain, a bleach fanfic

A/N: I know, I know. I should be working on 'the reason' but this old thing has been in my hard drive for a while and I figured I'd share it with you all. Consider it an early Thanksgiving gift for my readers; you guys a great!

I honestly don't know what to make of this. I hate how people say Orihime's poem regarding the rain is stupid. Kubo has it rain in Ichigo's inner world but I think at some point in the series Ichigo's going to realize that the rain isn't that bad.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this. I tried a different style of writing and hopefully it came out alright. Let me know what you think. (!7 pages & 6K words, wow, new record!)

Rating: T+

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

Memories in the Rain

If I were the rain,

could I connect with someone's heart,

as the rain can unite

the eternally separated earth and sky?

There is no alarm that goes off to awaken Orihime from her deep slumber. Her internal clock forces her to reluctantly open her eyes; they blink slowly, trying to adjust their vision. For a while, Orihime simply lies there, unmoving, her gaze glued to the ceiling that is painted a neutral color. She debates whether or not to get up because the idea of hiding within the still warm sheets is becoming much more appealing than facing a day that she is sure will be tough.

With a sigh, Orihime goes with the more difficult choice. She rolls out of bed and begins her daily routine of grooming herself in her bathroom. Her movements are slow and reluctant, nothing like her usual energetic self. When Orihime switches on the lights, her reflection stares back at her with red, puffy eyes and a gaunt face covered in tear stains. Strangely enough, this image makes her think of Hueco Mundo and her heartless captor, Ulquiorra.

We match, thinks Orihime before turning on the tap and dosing her face with chilly water.

Absentmindedly, Orihime brushes her teeth and runs a comb through her long tendrils of hair. It has grown out, running in soft, billowing waves to her hips. The color is warm hue, reddish-brown mixed with strands of gold and ginger. Another memory presents itself, one of a young Orihime being tormented by envious classmates. The sound of scissors snipping echoes in her ears, reminding her why she refuses to ever cut a single lock.

"Your hair is long and beautiful,

just like a princess, Orhime."

"You really think so, Onii-chan?"

"I'm positive. So never cut it, alright?"

"Un! I pinky promise!"

Orihime goes on to slip out of her cherry printed pajamas and trades them in for her uniform. Methodically, she buttons up her white blouse, puts on her grey coat and ties the red bow around her collar. Unsuccessfully, she attempts to tug her skirt down to cover herself more. It is dangerously short, reaching mid-thigh but she gives up when she realizes there is nothing she can do.

After putting on her long socks and school shoes, Orihime grabs her bag. She trudges into the small living room and stops in front of the portrait of Sora. Minutes tick by as Orihime stares at the photograph of her beloved brother. It scares her that she has trouble remembering the sound of his voice and the way his lips felt whenever they pressed themselves against her forehead before tucking her into bed. These are details that she has strained to preserve, to tuck away for safe keeping for days like these.

Bowing her head, Orihime clasps her hands tightly together and offers a prayer that she hopes will be heard.

Fists pound loudly against a wooden door without inhibition, it rattles in the doorframe, right on the verge of shattering. Isshin continues this antic, hollering loudly at the top of his lungs: "ICHIGOOOOOO!" He anticipates the door swinging open abruptly but is unable to dodge the foot that crashes into his face and sends him flying across the hallway.

"For God's sake," seethes Ichigo, already dressed in his uniform. A vein near his temple throbs, in danger of bursting. "I don't need you to wake me up, old man!"

Isshin hits the floor with such a loud thud that it almost seems impossible that he manages to bounce back onto his feet. "You've learned well, my son!" he booms. "Now let's see if you can handle this!"

Ichigo easily dodges Isshin's rapidly moving fists. "OI! Knock it off!"

Karin appears from the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging dangrously from her mouth. She appraises the seen with a bored expression, then mutters, "You two are idiots."

Suddenly, Yuzu runs out of her bedroom, scampering into the now unoccupied bathroom. "Eeek!" she exclaims shrilly. "Karin, where did you leave my curling iron?"

"Why would I have your curling iron?" drawls Karin, watching her twin turn the bathroom upside down in a matter of seconds.

"Because," explains Yuzu, "you were the last one in here!"

Rolling her eyes, Karin resumes brushing her teeth with her arms crossed. "You don't have to look perfect everyday, Yuzu. Especially for a boy."

Both men instantaneously falter from fighting (Ichigo has a hand wrapped around Isshin's neck and Isshin's legs are frozen in a kick). Ichigo's amber eyes grow slightly wide while Isshin jaw drops. "What?" they say at the same time.

Neither girl elaborates; Karin rinses her mouth and leaves while Yuzu continues to search the house. To Ichigo's relief, Isshin follows after his blonde haired daughter, exclaiming: "Could it be? Yuzu has her eyes set on a young man?"

"Leave her alone, goat chin!" snaps Karin.

Shaking his head at his family, Ichigo grabs his things and heads downstairs. In the kitchen, Ichigo prepares himself toast and drinks a tall glass of orange juice before leaving the house. Outside, he looks up at the sky; it is so cloudy that it's hard to find a piece of the sky. Sighing, Ichigo begins his walk to school.

Inconspicuously, Ichigo strolls into his classroom and takes his seat by the window. As he passes Sado, they both nod at each other casually. Keigo animatedly hassles Ichigo, demanding that they all go out for karaoke after school.

"Come on, Ichigo!" he wails. "I don't have any plans!"

"Don't you have detention today?" says Mizuiro from a desk over, his thumbs speedily texting on his cell phone.

"Dammit! Why'd you have to remind me?!"

Ignoring his friends for the time being, Ichigo scans the room. He looks to where Orihime's friends gather, chatting away and giggling loudly with the exception of Tatsuki. The karate champion meets his gaze and gives a small smile in acknowledgement.

The clock on the wall above the chalk board indicates that there are only a few minutes before classes begin. Ichigo frowns, noticing an unoccupied desk not to far from him. It is unlike Orihime to be tardy but before Ichigo's worries can grow, she walks through the doorway.

Right away, he senses that something isn't right. Perhaps it's the trick of the light because Orihime's usually bright and vibrant eyes seem dull as old gold. And did he imagine the bags under her eyes? Not to mention, Orihime's entire demeanor appears meek. Nonetheless, Orihime greets her friends with a smile that doesn't have any feeling to it. When she spots Ichigo, Orihime makes an effort and says, "Good morning, Kurosaki-kun."

Her tone is completely off, there is no enthusiasm whatsoever. Somewhere deep within Ichigo, disappointment emerges; it is a secret pleasure of his that Orihime greets him so fondly. She does not understand that this simple gesture is a favorite ritual of his.

Tatsuki and Ichigo exchange glances; he raises a brow at her in question but to his frustration, she shakes her head and turns away.

"The hell?" grumbles Ichigo, unaware that his hands have turned into fists.

"Inoue looks kinda sad, doesn't she?" states Mizuiro, carefully watching Ichigo.

The idea of Orihime—someone who always smiles and shines like the summer sun—sad is insane to Ichigo. But then he recalls another time Orihime had this same expression. It is when she was taken to Hueco Mundo; Ichigo's jaw clenches at the thought. He remembers painful memories and can only imagine what it was like for his friend. He has always admired Orihime for her ability to continue smiling despite all the traumatic events she went through.

Still, as he observes her keenly, noting that her face from then is not so different from now.

Ochi-sensei enters, her high heels tapping against the ground briskly. The bell rings and she wastes no time getting to business. "Alright class, we have a long lesson today. . ."

Ichigo doesn't bother paying attention. He constantly glances at Orihime who, like him, is not interested. Her purple notebook and fruit-scented pen lay atop of desk untouched. She stares unblinkingly at the board with her cheek pressed against her palm.

Ichigo wonders what could possibly be on her mind that makes her put off school. He figures it must be something important because Orihime is very studious, ranking in the top ten.

A piece of chalk flies across the room at remarkable speed, barely missing Ichigo's head by inches as he ducks. It moves on and claims another victim: Keigo ("AH! Why does this always happen to me!").

"Kurosaki!" hisses Ochi-sensei, her eyes narrowing behind her glasses. "I'd appreciate it if you'd at least pretend to take notes!"

Scowling, Ichigo makes a point to slam his notebook against his desk and open it to a random page. Swearing a string of insults under his breath, Ichigo reached for a pencil.

"Arrogant teenagers," snickers Ochi-sensei. "ASANO! Give me my chalk now!"

"You're the devil with boobs!" cries Keigo.

"EXCUSE ME?"

"Nothing!"

"Why haven't you been smiling, Orihime?"

"My front teeth are missing!"

"But everyone looks better smiling, silly."

"Even me?"

"Especially you."

Ochi-sensei's voice explaining a new algebra formula sounds very distant to Orihime. It is like they are in two separate worlds; Orihime stuck somewhere dark and made up of her worst fears and Ochi-sensei in the real world. Still, Orihime makes no attempt to reconnect, she is certain she will contaminate everyone with her misery and does not want to risk it. She believes that it is for the best.

But halfway through the lesson, Orihime steels herself and picks up her pen. She takes a deep breath, deciding that she shall at least try because if she just sits here doing nothing, then she might as well have stayed home.

Two seats ahead is Tatsuki. When Ochi-sensei turns her back to scribble notes on the board, Tatsuki twists to check on Orihime. "Are you okay?" she mouths, gaze filled with undeniable apprehension.

Somewhere, Orihime once read that smiling can instantly lift her mood; it had reminded her instantly of Sora. "I'm fine," assures Orihime, attempting to smile for the sake of her brother. "Really."

Tatsuki mouth opens again but no words come out as Ochi-sensei addresses the class. It warms Orihime's heart that her best friend is worried but she does not want to trouble her. Keeping herself busy helps, so Orihime copies what's written on the board, making sure to get every single little detail. Quickly, the paper in front of Orihime fills up.

Moments pass by and Orihime feels strange, sensing the almost physical sensation of eyes on her. Pausing from her work, she peeks around and is astonished to find Ichigo staring at her, his ocher eyes intense. His brows are furrowed together and his mouth is pursed in a tight line.

Out of habit, Orhime swiftly averts her gaze, waiting for a few seconds and then allowing another glimpse at Ichigo. She is surprised that he maintains his staring. The way he looks at her is the same as when he rescued her from Hueco Mundo: concerned and anxious of her well being.

Smile! Orhime fiercely orders to herself. Don't make Kurosaki-kun worry!

A smile does form on Orhime's face but it is a poor replica of the real thing.

By some miracle, Orihime is able to avoid eating lunch with her friends. It is easier this way, she did not prepare a meal and she does not have an appetite of any sorts anyway. Right now, she is too tired to go through the motions of socializing.

There is a deserted staircase near the east wing with a landing that has a window facing the grounds. It is here that Orihime takes refuge; she leans against the window sill, watching as the sky darkens with grey colored clouds.

Orihime hopes it will rain.

Please, oh please.

For luck, she crosses her fingers.

On the school roof, Ichigo's lunch is left to spoil. He ignores any conversation that takes place among his friends, too busy searching for a ginger haired girl underneath a tree where her friends eat.

To Ichigo's displeasure, Orihime is nowhere to be found.

"She's not there, huh?"

Ichigo blinks and turns to Mizuiro. "What?" he snaps curtly.

Mizuiro is unfazed, taking a lengthy sip from his box of grape juice. Casually, he says: "Inoue's probably inside."

Glaring harshly, Ichigo stands up and leaves.

Mizuiro watches him go, well aware of where Ichigo is heading.

Orihime slips back into her classroom. It has gotten chilly and she goes to grab her coat that she left on her chair before lunch started. But for some reason, it is not there anymore.

Perplexed, Orihime searches under her seat and still finds nothing.

Most likely, someone has stolen or hidden her coat as a cruel joke. Orihime has grown used to this; not all the girls like her and she has learned that there is nothing she can do about it. This means that Orihime will have to work an extra shift at the bakery to buy a replacement coat.

Touching her hairpins clipped to her collar, Orihime leaves as quietly as she arrived.

The hallways are empty as Ichigo walks with his hands pocketed. His long legs automatically know where to go, sensing the warmth of Orihime's spiritual energy. He takes the stairs to the second floor then pauses before turning a corner, hearing a deep voice speak.

"I was wondering if you'd go out with me, Inoue-san?"

Ichigo's entire body grows tense. He recognizes the stranger as Aido Fujimoto, a student in the same years as him who is famously popular with the girls because of his good looks and charming personality..

He strains to hear Orihime's answer. Imagining some guy with Orihime makes Ichigo's blood boil. There is a protectiveness that Ichigo feels for her and uses this to explain why he rather it be himself than Aido.

"I'm sorry, Fujimoto-san," says Orihime softly, "but I can't."

In an instant, Ichigo feels relieved.

"Can I ask why?"

"I . . . I'm already in love with someone else."

This is news to Ichigo and his mind races to think of who the bastard could be. Because of this, he almost misses when Orihime continues.

"Someone, who will never love me back."

"What story would you like me to read?"

"Beauty and the Beast!"

"Again? Why do you like that story so much?"

"Ne, it's because Belle falls in love

with the Beast for all the right reasons."

"It's okay, Tatsuki-chan," declares Orihime after school when she finds out that Tatsuki has a mandatory karate practice and cannot accompany her home. "Don't even worry about it."

"Are you sure?" presses Tatsuki, unconvinced. She shifts her duffle bag strap on her shoulder, racking her brain on what to do. If she misses this session then her coach will allow her to participate in the upcoming tournament. At the same time, Tatsuki wants to be there for her friend who is having a rough time.

Orihime nods.

"Hey," says Tatsuki, noticing something off about Orihime, "where's your coat?"

Laughing sheepishly, Orihime rubs the back of her head. "Hehehe . . . . I sort of lost it . . ."

Exasperated, Tatsuki sighs. "You're such a handful, Orihime."

Orihime doesn't disagree. "Well, I should go. I don't want to make you late."

Tatsuki scrutinizes Orihime once more. It is hard to see her best friend like this and it hits Tatsuki that Orihime is truly a strong person to ward off this sort of personality every single day.

Orihime notices this and smiles. "I'm fine, Tatsuki."

The corners of Tatsuki's mouth turn down. "You've said that so many times today that it doesn't even sound like a word anymore."

Moments after Orhime walks out through the front doors of Karakura High, Ichigo runs into Tatsuki. "Have you seen—?"

Tatsuki nonchalantly points towards the school entrance. "She just left."

Nodding in thanks, Ichigo hurries to catch up with Orihime. His strides widen, determination etched on his anxious face.

The unsettling feeling in Tatsuki's gut eases now that she knows Ichigo will be with Orihime.

He spots her figure walking slowly down a street that is not on her usual route home to her apartment. The way her shoulders are slumped clenches at Ichigo's heart.

"Inoue!" he calls out.

She doesn't seem to hear him and keeps walking away. Ichigo hates the position he is in, he wants to be by her side, as close to her as possible. He is tired of watching Orihime go; he will not let her runaway again even if it is in her best intentions, even if she doesn't want him to.

In an instant, Ichigo catches up and makes a grab for her arm.

This action breaks Orihime from her thoughts. Her eyes widen, realizing what is happening. "Kurosaki-kun."

The way she says his name reminds Ichigo of coo, a caress of some sorts. It rolls of her tongue gently, cradling the word with her soft-spoken voice. His grip on her tightens, he will not let go. "Inoue," says Ichigo, searching her face, "what's wrong?"

". . . . Rain . . . ."

Ichigo's brows knit into a line. "What?"

Orihime stares at the spot where Ichigo hand rests. On her arm is a drop of water that trickles down her pale skin. Another drop falls and hits Ichigo on the cheek.

Ichigo's eyes narrow and he curses. "Shit."

He glares up at the sky that has now turned grey with rain clouds. It is like a dam has been broken because a flood of rain pours down on the pair of them. Thunder rumbles and bone chilling winds rip between the two.

Ichigo turns to Orihime; for the first time today, a smile that is genuine graces her lips. Her head is tilted back as she welcomes and admires this change of events.

"Thank you," she whispers to the sky.

"Rain, rain, stay today, come again another day!"

"That's not how you sing it, Orihime."

"I know, Onii-chan! But I like the rain!"

"Then you should probably rain dance as well."

"Good idea!"

Orihime follows Ichigo in tow, his hold on her tight as he looks for place to escape the rain. Without protesting, Orhime lets Ichigo lead her into a vacant park where they squeeze into one of the playground equipment. It is a cylinder tunnel that is a lot more cramped than Orihime anticipated; they are forced to sit beside each other to fit.

Orihime gazes out as the rain drums wildly overhead. She is soaked to the core, making her thin, white blouse cling to her body like a second skin.

"You okay?" asks Ichigo.

She nods. "Y-Yeah. . . ."

"'Cause, you know, you're shaking."

Orihime tries to make herself smaller, stammering, "I'm f-fine."

Ichigo frowns at her. "What happened to your coat?"

"A-Ah, I, um, lost it."

"Don't lie to me, Inoue."

Orihime blinks, her damp eyelashes brushing against her cheekbones. It scares her that Ichigo can see right through her façade because a part of her is embarrassed of what he might see. "I think somebody took it," she confesses.

"I'll get it back for you."

Orihime gapes at Ichigo. He is looking somewhere else but his jaw is set in that familiar way whenever he is in battle and is determined to win at any costs. No matter the odds or challenges Ichigo faces he does not back down.

Shaking her head fervently, Orihime says, "You don't have to do that—"

"I'll get it back, Inoue."

Ichigo permits himself to peek at Orihime from the corner of his eye. She stares at him in a way that makes him want to hold her. Her hair has turned dark thanks to the rain with drops of water sparkling in it. Without her coat, Orihime's bra is completely visible to Ichigo; it is peach colored with lace intricately stitched around the edges.

This causes Ichigo's blood to rush up his neck.

Thunder growls and bellows as the storm turns aggressive. The wind howls savagely, turning the world into a mess. Outside their own little world, it is chaotic and cruel.

Orihime still trembles and Ichigo can hear her teeth chattering. He wants to offer her his jacket but it is as soaked as she and will do no good. Annoyed with himself for his inability to properly take care of her, Ichigo fists his hands.

Orihime inhales deeply, tasting the mist on her tongue. "I love the smell of rain. Don't you?"

"Not really," grumbles Ichigo, scowling at the storm taking place.

Orihime hugs her knees to her chest as though she is holding herself together to keep from falling apart. A part of her fears pieces of her will chip away and becaom unusable. At this point, it is a miracle that she has gotten this far. "The rain used to make me sad."

Interested, Ichigo inclines his head to hear better. "Used to?"

"Now I admire it," she says gently. Thick lashes shield her eyes from Ichigo. "It can connect the earth and sky even though they are separated."

Ichigo ponders at this. "So now the rain makes you happy?"

Orihime nods with a bittersweet smile that knocks Ichigo breathless. There is so much emotion packed in that smile of hers that it's painful. His stomach twists into knots and his eyes grow tight. Swallowing, Ichigo asks what he's been holding in the entire day. "Why were you sad today?"

A pensive expression flickers across Orihime's face as she debates on whether or not to truthfully answer Ichigo's question. Orihime gives in but it is not because Ichigo will immediately know that she is lying, mainly it is because she trusts him and if there was anyone who will understand her, it's Ichigo.

"Do you remember when we first met?" she asks.

He does and strangely enough Ichigo can recall it perfectly. Most distinctively, Ichigo can remember a slight girl carrying a man much larger on her back with a pool of blood forming around her at his doorstep. In that second, all Ichigo could think of was his mother.

"Yes," answers Ichigo. "It was raining just like today."

"Today makes it six years from then."

Ichigo leans his head back; there are no words that she hasn't already heard that will make her feel any better. He knows this very well from experience. Really, there is no way to properly describe the loss of loved one, it is more painful than anyone can imagine and no matter how many days, months, years go by, the wound never fully heals.

Orihime turns to Ichigo. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," he points out.

This earns him a small giggle that sounds like wind chimes and tinkering bells. It makes his chest warm and he is sure one day it will be his demise. Only Orihime could drive Ichigo to do unthinkable things.

Leaning in, Orihime is oblivious that she is overwhelming Ichigo with her presence. She is simply too much, too lovely, too kind, too beautiful. "Why don't you like the rain?"

"Who said I didn't like the rain?" challenges Ichigo, suddenly aware of how perceptive Orihime really is.

"Well, I'm assuming since you keep glaring at it as if it's made fun of your hair."

Ichigo hesitates for the slightest second. It is typically very difficult for him to speak of his mother due to his pent up emotions and he dos not like making himself vulnerable that way. Plus, it angers him that some people mistake his unwillingness to talk as denial. Yet here, in the middle of a thunderstorm with Orihime, he unveils a layer of himself that nobody has ever seen.

"It was raining when my mother died."

Out of an uncontrollable impulse, Ichigo's and Orihime's hands reach for each other. When they touch, it is magnetic. A spark takes place, running up both of their arms. In a peculiar instance, their grief and loss strengthens their intertwining bond.

"But you know," continues Ichigo, "I don't think I hate the rain anymore. I get what you meant earlier; even though we're stuck here, the rain forms a bridge to them."

Seconds turn into minutes as both Orihime and Ichigo hold hands. Orihime finds comfort in the strength of Ichigo's rough and larger hand, it is the very same hand that fiercely wields Zangetsu and protects his loved ones from any sort of harm or danger. Ichigo notes how incredibly dainty Orihime's hand is, it is too breakable—like the wing bone of a hummingbird—but this hand, this tiny delicate hand can challenge the gods and twist fates, this very hand has gone out of its way to heal his numerous life-threatening wounds.

But most importantly, Ichigo realizes she holds a piece of him that he has unconsciously given. He does not know exactly how it happened but he hopes she will cherish it. There is no doubt in Ichigo that believes she would purposely break him, he has faith in this soft and sweet girl.

Orhime turns to Ichigo with a smile that is especially reserved for him. "Kurosaki-kun?"

"Hmm?"

She squeezes his hand, a simple but touching gesture that grabs Ichigo's entire soul. Her influence on him is unending and Ichigo is aware that she can make him to do anything she wanted. "I'm glad. . . I'm glad you're here . . . with me. . . ."

It is Ichigo's turn to offer a smile that no one but Oirhime is granted to see. It changes his rugged features, making him unbearably charismatic. "Me too."

"I thought I was going to be alone," she admits bashfully, "but you came to my rescue, as always!"

One corner of Ichigo's mouth quirks up higher than the other, a manner that is almost boyish. "That's because it's my job, silly."

Orihime's lashes lower, hiding her doe-like eyes. She mumbles almost inaudibly, "You don't have to trouble yourself."

"Inoue," Ichigo says slowly, "I promised to protect you, remember? I know I've struggled in the past but I'm going to keep my word."

Orihime's gaze flickers back at Ichigo and suddenly he feels his supply of oxygen has been cut off. Her eyes are liquid silver, swirling in hypnotic circles and Ichigo falls captive. He is urged to come closer and an animalistic impulse to taste her consumes him.

"You don't need to," she whispers, her sticky breath fanning Ichigo's face.

Ichigo shakes his head; it does nothing to clear his head like he had hoped. "I have to keep you safe."

Orihime blinks, taken aback. "You do?"

Voice hoarse, Ichigo says, "You're important, Inoue."

Orihime ducks her head, a river of hair spilling over small shoulders. "Not really. . . ."

Ichigo can't explain why this sparks anger within him, most likely it frustrates him that Orihime is unconscious of her own worth. Either way, it forces Ichigo to use his free hand and make Orihime look at him. He examines her with half-lidded eyes, unable to pull away. He senses her breath hitch and a flush of pink blossoms on Orihime. Drawing nearer, Ichigo loses what little control he has left.

"You are," says Ichigo before moving in to kiss Orihime.

"I'm going to marry you someday, Onii-chan!"

"I'm honored Orihime but I'm nowhere

near good enough for you."

"Then I'll marry someone like you!"

Orihime's mind turns into frenzy as Ichigo draws nearer. Her eyes grow wide and her body stiffens. Violently, Orihime's heart pounds against her chest. Ichigo's intense gaze leaves no room for Orihime to look away.

Orihime braces herself when Ichigo's lips are inches from touching her. She can almost taste him and the heat that radiates from his body sends a pleasurable shiver down her spine. In anticipation, Orihime's toes curl and her pulse races.

She waits but nothing happens.

Swiftly, Ichigo pulls back and turns the opposite direction. "Sorry," he grumbles in a strained voice.

Rejection washes over Orihime and it makes her sick. Unable to stop them, tears begin prickling her eyes. Experiencing this sort of heart ache is more painful than she imagined. Orihime lets go of Ichigo's hand and attempts to distance herself. Perhaps if she does this the horrid sensation in her stomach will cease.

Ichigo still doesn't face her. "Sorry Inoue, I shouldn't have done that."

Orihime searches for words and comes up with only one. "Why?"

The sound breaks and it jars Ichigo. He braces himself and looks to her. Seeing Orihime teary-eyed nearly does him in. Every since the first time he witnessed her cry, he realized it was something he could not handle. It's worse now because this makes a second time that he's caused her to cry.

"You're in love with somebody," says Ichigo, scowling at her skirt now. He realizes his mistake too late, looking there grants Ichigo access to exposed flesh that he longs to feel under his hands.

"W-What?"

Ichigo frowns. "I overheard you talking to Fujimoto." Ichigo grows unsettled as Orihime remains silent so he glances at her. "It's true, isn't it?"

Orihime eyes are wider than ever. "Yes," she breathes.

Frustrated, he rubs the back of his neck. He is stunned to know how much it actually hurts to hear Orihime confirm his fears. It's wrong but Ichigo wants her all to herself. "I don't want to complicate things between us, especially when you already have feelings for someone else."

This is her chance, the moment she's been waiting years for. It is now or never. Timidly, Orihime reaches forward and touches Ichigo's forearm. "K-Kurosaki-kun . . ."

Body rigid, Ichigo faces Orihime. She stares up at him earnestly and red in the face, it makes things so much harder. His restraint is tested, surpassing the previous established limits. Now he waits for Orihime to console him for his rash impulse and unrequited feelings.

Her chin quivers as the words she wishes to utter dangle on the tip of her tongue. Sucking in a deep breath, Orihime squeaks out, "It's you."

Ichigo blinks at her, confused. He isn't quite sure of what Orihime means by that. "Wait, what?"

Blood rushes to Orihime's cheekbones. Saying it once was hard enough but clarifying the meaning behind her sentence is tougher. There was no point in hiding the truth anymore. "The person I love is you, Kurosaki-kun."

Swallowing audibly, Ichigo gapes at her. His eyes enlarge in disbelief allowing Orihime to admire the richness of the brown color. Most likely, he heard her incorrectly. There is no possible way that Orihime Inoue, the girl who could collect any man's heart was in love with him.

"Could—Could you repeat that?"

Orihime bypasses pink and turns maroon. Wetting her lips, she averts her gaze. "I—I love you."

Strong hands grab Orihime's face and forces her to stare up at Ichigo. His gaze is scorching, causing her stomach to do back flips. "Say it again."

Orihime cannot think straight anymore. "A-Ah, for w-what?"

"Because," says Ichigo gruffly, "I like hearing you say that."

A smile spreads across Orihime's face. Her heart shakes in her tight chest and she can hardly breathe. "I love you, Kurosaki-kun. I do. I love you, I love you—"

It is too much, she is too much—too kind, too lovely, too much to bear. No longer able to withstand it, Ichigo ardently claims Orihime's soft lips. His mouth slants over hers, tasting bright smiles and the essence of her pure love. Orihime is sweeter than honey or chocolate and twice as addicting.

A whimper escapes from Orihime and she gives Ichigo access to nibble on her bottom lip. Her hands move to grip the front of Ichigo's jacket as she tilts her head to the side, sighing into the kiss. Desperately, her lips cling to his and soon her mind grows foggy from the rush of sensations.

When breathing becomes impossible, Ichigo pulls back. Intense amber eyes search Orihime, admiring how they flutter open. Her eyes are glazed over, dreamy and soft. "Orihime," he says tenderly, moving his hand to the back of her head to grasp tendrils of her hair. "If I didn't love you back, I wouldn't do this."

Again and again, Ichigo took Orihime's lips. They each turn from fiercer than the last. Wanting as much as he can get, Ichigo brings Orihime closer and leaves of trail of bites and kisses down her neck.

"Kuro. . .saki. . ."

Ichigo bites Orihime's lip and guides her tongue into his mouth. He coaxes her, groaning as she thoroughly explores him. "Ichigo," he growls to Orihime. "It's Ichigo."

It's raining and the storm runs wild but moving against one another, Orihime and Ichigo grow closer. Hot breath is shared and so are kisses and tongues. The airs is charged and neither will get enough until their hunger is potently filled. The soft touches shift to passionate holds.

It's raining but they make better memories to compensate for the bloody ones they already have.

Standing at the foot of Orihime's apartment complex is Ichigo. He leans against the staircase railing, holding an umbrella to shield himself from the light drizzle of rain. When the front door swings open, Ichigo looks up. "Orihime."

Sun rays seem to shine through her face as Orihime smiles at him. "Good morning, Kurosaki-kun!"

Grimacing, Ichigo's shoulders slump. "I thought I made it clear yesterday, call me Ichigo."

Orihime giggles bashfully as she skips down, skirt rising without realizing it. "A-Ano, it's a habit."

Shaking his head, Ichigo takes Orihime's hand. Dipping his head, he firmly presses his lips against her forehead. "We'll just have to work on it."

Orihime flushes but keeps quiet. Her entire body is tingling from being so close to Ichigo. Like an instinct, she craves to feel him. She is happy that sharing an umbrella requires them to invade the other's space.

"Come on," says Ichigo, pulling her along. "We'll be late for school."

"Un!" Orihime scurries beside him, refusing to let go of him. He squeezes her hand and her smile widens. She hesitates for a moment before finally asking, "Umm, Kuro—Ichigo, does this mean I'm your g-girlfriend?"

Expression smug, Ichigo casts a sidelong glance. "Yes, you're mine now."

Orihime opens her mouth to say more but is interrupted when Ichigo sneezes loudly. She panics, waving her free arm childishly. "Are you okay, Kurosaki-kun? Do you want a handkerchief? Oh no, I think you caught a cold!"

"I'm fine," grumbles Ichigo with a sniff. "Stop worrying."

"B-But—"

"I'll kiss you," threatens Ichigo. "And then you'll get my sick germs."

"But you just said you weren't sick!"

Ichigo groans. "Look, if I say you can make me soup later will you let it go?"

"Okay!"

Overhead, the sky clears the gray clouds to create a pathway for the sun to shine again.

"My name means the sky, Orihime.

So no matter what, I'm always with you."

"Sky?"

"Yes, so whenever you're alone,

look up and I'll be there."

Fin.