A/N: I knew I was going to post this late. I got caught up in a few things and I was cutting it close on so many deadlines that I had to cut out the time to write this week. Sorry for the delay :(

Also, this came out a lot longer than I expected it to :P

Disclaimer: Bleach characters belong to the man who wrote Bleach.

Chapter 3: No Boys Allowed


Friday, September 17, 1999 at 10:15:41 PM


Orihime coughed and blew the thick smoke from out of her face. "Guys, I don't know anyone here but you two..."

Rukia clapped her hands. "Then let's make some friends!" The pixie looked up at her taller friend. "This is what college is all about!"

If this was what college had to offer… Orihime looked around the smoky house… then she'd pass.

Rukia started ahead, managing to weasel her way through the tightly packed crowds of people in the cramped frat house.

God, how did she manage to talk her into a place like this? Freshmen didn't belong here. Sure, Renji was a sophomore, but that didn't make a difference in her eyes. And he was Rukia's boyfriend so technically his credentials didn't apply to her… she was like a baby dear in headlights.

"Tell me if anyone gives you any problems." Renji whispered in her ear, reassuringly.

But he was also sweet to her. Even though he was known for a having a tough demeanor he kept a soft spot just for her. Orihime smiled. "Thanks."

"Renji!" a deep voice called from the other side of the room.

Renji grabbed Orihime's hand, guiding the eighteen year old through the murky, gray smoke, towards the cluster of chairs, a couch and a table near the corner of the living room.

There were plenty of alcohol filled red cups to stretch around the whole campus!

Renji pointed to each person as he said their name. "This is Riruka, Michi, and Keitaro."

Riruka, the girl with magenta ponytails, had her legs draped up on the arm of the sofa, ignoring the guest as she flipped through a glossy magazine. The one named Michi sat next to her, or more, sat on the lap of the guy named Keitaro. He handed her the cigarette he was smoking and leaned forward.

Orihime was way out of her element. She just wasn't cutout for the partying life. All of the loud music and booze… and who could stand such thick smoke? It was hard to see anyone's face!

"Who's this?" Keitaro asked, pointing at her.

Orihime glanced behind her, hoping she wasn't blocking Keitaro's view. Riruka scoffed at her incompetence before Orihime realize he wanted her. She almost jumped out of her skin! Why would someone like him want to know anything about someone like her…?

Renji cracked open a beer and took a long drink. "This is Orihime, Rukia's friend."

Michi kissed him on the cheek, trying to gather his attention, but he shrugged her off.

He was staring at her; this alone made her skin crawl. She tried looking at everything else. The floor, the ceiling –which had wads of pink and blue colored gum on the ceiling, gross!-, the people in the cramped living room, even the small television by the sofa that played a rerun of Fullhouse. But she could still feel his eyes on her.

Orihime blushed. Why so intense?

"I got punch!" Rukia cheered. She squeezed past a couple making out next to her and handed a red cup to Orihime before sitting next to her boyfriend.

Orihime thanked her and brought the cup to her lips. "I wouldn't drink that if I were you…" Orihime looked up. He was staring at her again. Her cheeks felt hot again. Was the room filled with sweaty bodies the cause? Or was his stare that heated?

"Unless you want to end up in Souta's room …" he continued before taking the cigarette from Michi's fingers and handing it back.

Orihime looked up at Renji, curious. "What room? Who's Souta?"

Riruka giggled and flipped another page in her magazine while Michi rolled her eyes before taking another drag at her cigarette.

Renji's eye twitched a little in obvious embarrassment. "Erm… It's better if you didn't know."

Last time Orihime checked, she didn't sign on for this. The house managed to get smokier, wilder, and more crowded.

Quiet was all she craved at the moment as she opened a door which she prayed that granted her wish.

Someone, whoever was up there controlling the puny people here on earth, hated her today.

Someone else had beat her to the perfect spot in the small laundry room. He sat on the windowsill, one leg propped up with an elbow leaning against it.

He looked at her as she opened the door. Her face flushed; embarrassed that she ruined his privacy. "S-sorry, I-"

"No, please." Amber eyes glistened. "Stay."

It was dark in there. Dark enough to need a lamp, but the light from the moon outside would suffice. And the air was refreshing, and the open window provided much needed ventilation, but still, she felt suffocated, under a hood of some sort- cloaked, almost.

He was staring at her again; with those smoldering amber eyes… it was the only feature she could see in such a dark room. She was beginning to regret her decision to stay.

"Do you know what time it is?" Orihime asked shyly. She sat on top of the dryer and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. It was a little too short for her taste but since it was a party she wanted to look stylish.

He tapped the surface of his watch. "It's almost eleven." Keitaro looked back out the window. "The campus police will be here to break it up sooner or later."

The door slammed open, followed by smoke and loud music. A couple, a tall guy with silver hair and a smaller girl with girl made out against the frame. "Kenseeei!" the girl whined. "Someone beat us heeere!"

Keitaro hoped off the windowsill. "We were just leaving." He grabbed Orihime's hand and squeezed past the face-suckers. He led her up the stairs which didn't seem as crowded as it was below. "Let's find somewhere quiet."

Orihime walked down the hallway. The frat house was pretty big. Orihime couldn't bring herself to join a sorority. Besides, there were scaring stories about hazing which Orihime didn't want to be a part of.

Out the window, she could see people stripping and skinny dipping. The things people do with liquid courage… the concept of jumping naked into a pool was beyond her. How much fun could come out of that?

Orihime stopped in front of a door and pointed. "How about here?"

Keitaro shook his head. "Not unless you plan on getting high."

Orihime kept walking and stopped at another door. She peeked inside through a tiny crack in the door and immediately regretted her actions... Let's just say there was a camera, a lot of skin, and a lot of moaning.

Keitaro smirked and summed it up in one word: "Souta."

"Come on." Keitaro grabbed her hand again and led her down the end of the hallway. He was tall enough to push a latch aside and pull a contactable ladder down. He started up the ladder and stopped at the top. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you." He reassured.

At this moment, any levelheaded girl would turn around, find her friends and leave. But it was if a tight noose was wrapped loosely around her neck, tugging her along. She proceeded with caution. "How do I know you're not a serial killer?" Orihime asked jokingly.

"You'll never find out if you don't come," he joked back, giving her a helping hand as she walked up the ladder.

Orihime pushed her sweaty hair out of her face. "Feels good up here."

The air was stale, musky with heavy stench of damp oak and old trunks from past fraternity members.

It was cooler.

It was quieter.

They were as far away from the bustle and hustle they could possibly be while being in the vicinity.

Most of all… it was clearer. Aside from the tiny dust particle that slowing trickled around them, only revealing themselves in the moon light from the window, the air was unclouded and un-smoky.

"What are you in for?"

Orihime sat on the floor, near the window. He sat on the opposite side.

Orihime placed her long skirt over her knees. It was so cold. "You make it sound like prison."

His features were sharp. If looks could kill… he'd be the most dangerous. It was her turn to stare. Her eyes passed over his thick dark hair, his brows of the same kind, his nose, lips, and jaw line. Orihime could only imagine what lied underneath.

Keitaro scoffed. "It is."

"It's an escape... It's freedom..." Even Orihime could hear the complete bullshit in her words. "…I'm in for accounting. My aunt's paying for this so it's only fair that she chooses my career and the rest of my life…" She hugged her legs closer to chest and wrapped her arms around them. "And you?"

"Well… I couldn't gone to Waseda or Keio or even UT- hell, I could of gone anywhere in the world! But I chose here just to piss my father off." He kicked an old trinket into the shadows. "I'll be sucked into the family business anyway..."

Waseda? Keio? His grades must have been through the roof! To get accepted to some of the top schools in the country is amazing… but he chose Karakura University…?

"I don't understand…" Both of them watched the trinket roll from out of the darkness and stop in the middle of the room, rolling in place until it was forced to stop. Orihime continued. "…You can go to any elite school in the country… and you chose to come here."

"Seems like a waste to me…" Orihime looked out the window. If she looked down she could see naked bodies jumping into the pool below. If she looked up, she could see the waning moon. One day, she would reach the stars. "If I was in your position… I would change the world."

Keitaro looked straight ahead, into the dark attic. The room seemed to stretch further and further deeper into an abyss. It was hypnotizing, and Keitaro couldn't take his eyes off of it. "There's no such thing as a perfect world."

"It doesn't have to be perfect." Her voice snapped him out of it. He stared at her full cheeks and fiery hair. It illuminated in the dull light bringing a vibrant color to her face. "…Just better than it is now."

He seemed to crumple his thick brows in thought for a moment before flashing a big white smile.

"I like you."

It was a simple sentence. Three words. It was enough to make any girl squeal and hop into his lap. Just then, Orihime thought of how many girls he'd led up here, and how many of them have fallen for his bad-boy antics.

It was her turn to scoff. "You hardly know me."

Keitaro shrugged. "I can read people really well, I guess."

"Really…" The girl blushed and turned away from the window. "So what am I saying to you?"

He liked her. He liked her eyes, and her lips, and her nose. He like her body, and her mind, and her personality. He was intrigued. Most girls didn't hold his attention this long. But she captivated him. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He wanted to know more.

"You're wondering if I'm a good guy or a bad guy."

Orihime looked out the window once more. "Well, which one are you?"

Keitaro frowned, slowly. He turned forward again, staring, hypnotized.

"Truth be told… I don't really know myself…"


Saturday, March 8, 2014 at 4:32:51 PM


Orihime tapped her bottom lip, deep in thought. How could they do something so terrible, something so despicable! "Where are you…?" she grumbled, crumpling her brow. "Where would it be?"

Kioko held the side of the cart for support and slowly rolled onto her toes, stretching her legs and making sure her back was perfectly straight. "Mom, watch!"

Orihime waved away the noise. "Kiki, not now." She pushed the cart forward, almost running over her daughter in the process. "This will be the death of me," Orihime mumbled. Up and down, up and down every aisle. Why was this so hard to find?

Orihime stopped and tapped the shoulder of an employee stacking cans of peas. "Excuse me, what aisle would the marshmallows be in?"

The pimply employee scratched the top of his moppy hair. "Ah, they are in the dessert aisle, I think." He wiped his greasy hand on his apron while Orihime mentally noted to reconsider shopping here again. "Ah…aisle eight?"

Orihime smiled and thanked him but moved away quickly. "Why they changed the layout of the store is beyond me…" She shook her head angrily. "And who puts the marshmallows in the dessert aisle? I mean, come on! It belongs in the condiment aisle!"

Kioko travelled behind her, slowly, rolling to the balls of her feet up to her big toes and took a few painful steps forward. "Mom, watch me! Mom, look! I'm on pointe!"

Her mother turned the corner into aisle eight. "Kiki, your teacher said you're not ready to be on pointe."

The eight year old sighed. "She doesn't know anything…"

You're not ready, you're not ready…. That's all she heard. You can't do that, you can't do this… it was all the same. She may have been eight years old but she was not stupid. Her teacher liked Mina more… and her dumb perfect arch…

She used the bottles of chocolate sprinkles to once again roll on to pointe. "No, watch me!"

The minis or the jumbos… Orihime couldn't decide. Shopping for the kids was getting harder and harder. They are even pickier now than they were when they were little. And Kenta was like vacuum now, he'd eat anything- yes he was a picky vacuum. He'd eat all of the jumbos but none of the minis… or vice versa depending on his mood.

Kioko leaped past her mother and landed on the balls of her feet, rolled onto her toes and spun into a pirouette. It would have been perfect, if she didn't slip. "Whoa!" Kioko's flats were not suitable shoes for such slippery floors. She fell against the shelves, making boxes from the top shake off.

Kioko waited for the boxes to fall on her and she waited for the tears to start but someone saved her. It wasn't her mother.

Orihime didn't get there in time.

Keitaro looked up at her, grinning. His amber eyes sparkled and he held up a box of brownie mix. "Need some brownies?" he asked jokingly.

Orihime blinked. The grin faltered. The dark hair was replaced with bright orange, the grin had a subtle but still noticeable crook to it… but the eyes remained the same sparkling amber.

The man stood up straight and Kioko jumped to her feet.

Orihime grabbed her daughter out of the way. "Kiki, apologize."

"Oh," Kioko gave a tiny bow. "Sorry mister!"

Kioko helped him pick up the remaining boxes on the floor of the aisle. Orihime's fingers were numb. He was there… he was there a second ago… he was…

Kioko handed the man with the strange hair the rest of the fallen merchandise. His hand and jeans had dry white stuff on it that was chipping off. Kioko questioned the substance. "What's that on your hands?"

The man placed the chopped walnuts back on the top shelf. "Oh…, it's paint."

Kioko handed him the last bag on the ground. "Why do you have paint on your hands?"

"I'm working on a project."

Of Kioko's interrogation wouldn't stop there. "What kind of project?"

The man smiled, amused by her inquisitiveness. "One that involves paint, naturally."

"Kiki, that's enough." Orihime looked up at the man. "Sorry, again."

"But-" her daughter attempted to protest but was met with a stern look from her mother.

The man smiled again. "I… I'd listen to your sister."

Kioko lifted her thick, dark eyebrows. "She's my mom."

The man looked genuinely surprised. "Oh," he whispered, embarrassed by his rashness.

Orihime blushed before grabbing Kioko and riding off into another aisle. "Have a nice day," she shouted before grabbing a bag of jumbo marshmallows.

Kioko began to shiver from standing near the coolers. Kioko hated this section of the supermarket, albeit it had ice cream, and if she was lucky, her mom would place a tub or two in the cart, but that was once in a blue moon. "Mom, he was cute."

Her mother giggled. What did her eight year old know about a 'cute' man or not. She was eight for crying out loud! "Kiki, please." Orihime added a gallon of milk to the cart. "Don't talk to strangers, okay?"

Kioko harrumphed and folded her arms. Her mom talked to strangers all the time, she would know! She sees people all the time stop to talk to her mother, they were mostly men. She always smiles and walks away from them. She remembered asking her mom about it. She called it 'flirting', whatever that meant…

Orihime finished her shopping and pushed her heavy cart into the shorted line. Kioko was helping her mother place the groceries on the conveyor belt when she saw her strange haired friend again.

Kioko waved, grinning widely.

The man stopped behind them, placing his things on the counter. "Hey, fancy seeing you again. And your mother."

Orihime paused for a moment before continuing to load her groceries. If she ignored him, maybe he'd get the hint.

"My mom thinks you're cute."

Orihime jaw dropped. "Kioko! What did I say about talking to strangers?" Orihime gave her a tiny pinch on her upper arm. Kioko frowned a rubbed it, sniffling. She hated pinches, they hurt, badly.

The man knew he should have backed off. She was a beautiful woman and surely dozens on men approached her every day. But he wasn't the type to give up. No, if she was issuing a challenge then he was unquestionably ready.

"Well, tell her I said thank you, she's not too bad herself."

Kioko looked up to her mother. Her face looked all red. "Mom, he said-"

"I heard him." Orihime said quickly as she jabbed in her number for her credit card. She piled her groceries back into the cart but they didn't all fit anymore, and she didn't want to stack her gallon of milk over the delicate carton of eggs.

"I could help you with your bags." The insisted as he picked up his two grocery bags with ease.

"No thank you." Orihime grumbled. This one… this one was persistent.

"Please." Orihime glanced up at him. He was tall, taller than Keitaro actually. "It's the best way I can repay you for your compliment."

Kioko bounced up and down. "Mommy, please!"

The man joined in, begging with his eyes. "Yeah, please?"

The mother gave in. She handed him a few bags and failed at containing her giggles. Seeing Kioko and that man there, staring at her with puppy dog eyes… it reminded her of… a different time.

"Would it be a stretch if I asked you out to dinner?" The man asked as he helped load the groceries into her car.

"Yes, that would be pushing it." She smiled and thanked him for his help.

He tipped an imaginary hat. "You're welcome."

Orihime exhaled as she got into her car and started the engine. She hadn't even realized she was holding her breath. It's just that… he had an air around him. It wasn't arrogance… but confidence? Whatever it was, it suffocated her and she needed to get away fast.

"Mom…" Kioko giggled at her mother. She could see her red face from in the rearview mirror from her seat in the back. "…Your cheeks are red."

"Huh?" Orihime jumped back to the present, grateful that she didn't get into a car crash in her mind's absence.

"Your cheeks…"


Saturday, September 25, 1999 at 9:13:02 PM


Orihime tapped her pencil against her homework. Who could possible concentrate on math when there was Keitaro? Somewhere out there, Keitaro is sitting, no, walking, no- strolling, down a street somewhere. Or maybe he was at another frat party… talking to another girl… maybe even kissing her… or more…

Orihime frowned. For such an optimistic person, her thought always became sour quickly. How depressing.

The girl sighed. Her roommate, Mahana, went out partying like an normal girl her age, and she was stuck studying for an upcoming test.

"Fun!" Orihime said sarcastically and let her pencil slip through her fingers. To be honest, she could have gone out with Mahana and her friends, she could have even left with Rukia and Renji who left for dinner and movie. But… she was scared.

What if she saw him again? What would she say? How would she say it? What should she do with her hands?

Orihime clapped her hands over her head repeatedly. "Stupid, stupid, stupid…"

The things she said… what did she even say? She couldn't remember. All she remembered was his face… especially his eyes.

And she remembered the conversation Rukia and her had earlier on in the week.

"I know you keep thinking about the guy…"

Rukia couldn't contain her snickers as the friends walked through the courtyard. "What guy?"

"Don't play dumb." Rukia smirked. "Keitaro, Renji's friend."

Orihime felt her cheeks heat up from the sound of his name. "Is it that obvious?"

"He's not what he seems you know…" Rukia released, letting it hang in the air until Orihime asked: "What do you mean?"

"He's rich."

Orihime shook her head and giggled. Rich was the last adjective she expected to be in the same sentence with Keitaro, in terms of money. Rich in life, women, and romance, maybe. But money? He just didn't act so. Every rich kid she knew was snobby and stuck up and everything Keitaro wasn't.

The girls sat down in their usual spot near a tree in the courtyard. It wasn't the most perfect spot, but it was good enough for the duo.

"I'm serious!" Rukia exclaimed. "His family owns a heating and air conditioning company. Sato Inc." She grinned proudly. "Renji's dad works for his father. They play golf together sometimes."

Orihime adjusted her skirt on so her ankles were shielded from the prickly grass. "Makes sense, I guess."

Rukia took out her text books and laid them on the ground. "I didn't know you were into the bad-boy type!" she exclaimed as she took out her homework.

"I'm not! …I don't know…" Her conviction faltered. She didn't really have a type. To be honest, she didn't really care much for boys. She just didn't have the time. Her aunt had her life laid out for her. She just needed to follow the map and not stray or dawdle about. Her future was mapped out. It was up to her to secure it.

And boys just weren't in the picture, for now, at least.

"And you're one to talk!" Orihime shouted. "Renji is such a dangerous man!"

The girls giggled together. "Don't let the campus find out!"

She didn't need distractions. And Keitaro Sato was a big one, with a capital D.

"Do you think you'll…" Rukia clicked her tongue lifted her eye brows up and down.

Orihime jaw dropped. She had one conversation with the guy on a Friday night in a attic and already her best friend was asking her if she'll drop her panties.

Rukia pushed her shoulder playfully. "Come on, I know you already did it with Keigo."

Why did she tell Rukia anything?! She'd just blurt it out anytime she wanted any way. She might as well tell the whole school about her sex life.

"Yeah," Orihime sighed. "But it was horrible."

"How do you know the difference if you were a virgin?"

"Because you just know…" Orihime didn't know everything about sex, but she knew it wasn't supposed to be like that. To make a long story short… really short... there was a lot of sweating, grunting, pain, and two nosebleeds. Not the most glamorous way to lose your virginity.

Mulling over her lost virginity wasn't going to get her and A.

Her mind returned to her homework.

Something hit her window. Again, there was a thud.

Did… did a bird just fly into her window? Maybe birds were attacking her! Like in the Alfred Hitchcock movie, The Birds. Orihime imagined herself as Tippi Hedren, in her green dress as she fended off angry crowds of crows and seagulls with a flashlight in the attic.

Orihime waved her hands around frantically, mimicking the iconic movie scene.

"Psst! Orihime!"

Unless the birds could talk and articulate her name, Orihime doubted it was the aves apocalypse.

There was another thud. Orihime slowly approached the window. She opened it but quickly ducked for cover from a stone that was flung into her room.

Keitaro stood at the bottom with a fist full of rocks.

"What are you doing?!" she almost shouted.

Keitaro dropped the rocks and brushed his hands. "Come down here."

Orihime had to admit, she was a little disappointed that there was no apocalypse. But… Keitaro was a nice trade. "Hey… How'd you know this was my window?" she said from two stories up. There were plenty of dorms on campus. Unless he went throwing rocks on every girl's window all night- which was impossible- he'd have no way of knowing.

He waved his hand, beckoning her. "Renji told me," he said quickly, offering a quick explanation. "Now get down here!"

"We'll get in trouble!" She hissed and slammed the window shut.

For a moment, Keitaro stood there stunned. Never had he been so boldly rejected. Yeah, some girls liked to play hard-to-get but it was all an act. They'd eventually give in and he'd have his fun and move on to the next.

"Throwing rocks against a window is a little cliché don't you think?"

Keitaro turned around. She was pulling down a sweat jacket with the university's initials on it. He had to admit, it was a little cold out tonight.

He smirked, regaining his composure from the initial shock of rejection. "I figured it'd get your attention."

All hope wasn't lost.

Orihime folded her arms over her chest. She tried not to stare too hard at the motorcycle sitting ominously on the sidewalk. "Well, what do you want? It's getting really late and-"

"And you have studying to do, blah, blah, blah…" Keitaro spread his arms out wide. "The night is still young!"

He walk closer to his dangerous vehicle, against her better judgment and her own protest, she walked with him.

She watched him straddle the motorcycle and start the engine. Orihime's heart fluttered. Something about the rev of the engine and mischievous smile he gave her made her rethink her boundaries.

Still, she offered a weak argument. "Keitaro, I can't leave campus." She shifted her weight from one foot to the next. "If my aunt finds out, she'll kill me."

Keitaro handed her his only helmet. "Get on."


Saturday, March 8, 2014 at 4:53:27 PM


"Kenny! Kenny! Kenta!"

"What!" Kenta shouted from the top of the stairs.

Orihime peeked her head upstairs and smiled at her son. "Help us with the bags, please."

Her son rolled his gray eyes. "Ugh, fine."

Orihime returned to her cell phone. "I almost forgot…" She placed her grocery bags on the kitchen table. "You're lucky you called."

Rukia was on the other end, taking the time to dice blocks of cheese into perfect squares. Rukia always knew her way around a knife. "I will drag you out of the house kicking and screaming if I have to." She sent air kisses through the phone. "I'll see you soon."

"I got your favorite, marshmallows!" Orihime held the bag up for her son to see. "Don't tell me you've grown out of them." Orihime had to consider his capriciousness when shopping for food. She wasn't one to waste food or money so she had to buy what they would eat.

"I don't need marshmallows, and I don't need a babysitter." Kenta said as he unpacked three cartoons of eggs. Orihime was sure she had only brought two... maybe she picked up an extra by accident.

"I'm not leaving you alone with your sister so you can kill each other, besides, Yuzu is nice." Olives? When has she ever brought olives? The mother shook her head and placed the bottle on the counter. Seeing visions of him… buying extra eggs… buying olives and not knowing it… maybe she was losing her mind.

"She's my age! How does she have more authority than me?"

Since they moved here, Yuzu, the neighbor's daughter was always coming around here. She was always in his face, asking how he was doing, baking him cookies and doing other girly things. He didn't want anything to do with her. And he definitely was not going to eat her cookies to contract coodies!

"She's nice to Kiki and she refuses payment even when I insist." The mother grinned. "And I think she likes you."

"Whatever." Kenta grumbled. "Just go to your dumb party."

Kenta had definitely changed over the past couple of years. Yes, physically, he was growing into his own, but he was also becoming more and more distant. Orihime tried sparking conversations but his was so moody and difficult. Orihime hoped it was just him becoming an emotional teenager, and nothing more.

"Kenny has a girlfriend!" Kioko snickered from across the table.

The thirteen year old blushed. "Shut up!" "That's why you still have all your baby teeth!"

Kioko stood on her chair and stomped. "So do you!"

"No I don't." Kenta reached over and plucked her ear.

Kioko yelped and punched his arm.

Orihime pulled Kioko away by the collar before it became a MMA fight. "Kenny, be nice."

Kioko made faces from behind her mother, sticking out her tongue and dancing a jig. Kenta pointed at his sister. "What about it?!"

"My name isn't it!" the eight year old complained. He always called her that. It was not her name, Kioko was her name!

"Kioko, Kenta, stop it and finish putting the food away." "And behave yourselves when Yuzu gets here."

The two continued putting the groceries away as if nothing ever happened. They both push and tugged here and there but the fight blew over as they normally did. Much like their father, their tempers rose high and fast, but were over as quickly as they began.

Their tempers weren't the only reminders of him. They both amassed his dark hair and thick eyebrows, even his sharp chin; though Kioko still had a little fat in her cheeks that Orihime doubt she'd grow out of.

The only resemblance they held to her was their eyes. They both had gray eyes much like her own. Keitaro always said it was his favorite part about her. He was overjoyed to find three pairs of them staring back at him after a long day at work.


Saturday, September 25, 1999 at 9:27:02 PM


Orihime gripped the sides of his shirt tightly. "Woah! Slow down!"

"Slow isn't in my vocabulary!" Keitaro shouted back.

The ride wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. Seeing the city zip past in blurry, swirling lights was a wonderful experience. Turning corners was a negative. Leaning with the bike and with him during rounded or sharp corners was absolutely terrifying. What if she fell off? The helmet would protect her face, but what about the rest of her body? What if she fell off, then got ran over by a car- no, a truck. Even worse… a train! What would happen then?

But they didn't crash, which was a plus.

They came to a park filled with people. Many of them sat on the grass with blankets and drinks. Some parked their cars on the field and snuggled down in them.

Keitaro slowed down and kicked the side stand and shut off the engine.

Orihime balked at the makeshift movie screen made of sheets. It was hanging between two tall trees with a projector behind it. Keitaro led her to an empty spot on the field with a blue afghan quilt just as the movie began.

The old roaring lion showed on the screen and faded away. The orchestra played "Over the Rainbow" as the opening credits passed by. "Oh I love this movie!"

The nineteen year old grinned. "I'm glad, I requested it for tonight."

"Really?" Orihime nudged him a little. "That was nice of you."

Keitaro rubbed the back of his neck, adverting his eyes. "That and it's also my favorite movie..."

"Really?!" Orihime groaned. "I'm saying 'really' a lot, aren't I?"

He shrugged. "It's fine."

Orihime looked around. There were a few college students she recognized, but most she didn't know. People were laughing and smiling, some were kissing and touching, others were watching the movie. They all looked so happy and calm. The sophomore blended in with them, he wore tattered jeans and a leather riding jacket. Orihime glared down at her mom jeans and oversized sweat jacket. She didn't belong here.

"I never pegged you as the Wizard of Oz type of guy." Keitaro took her hand and examined her palms and her nails. "Me and my sister would sneak and watch it when our mother thought we were doing homework." He looked up at her, lifting a thick, dark brow. "Do you have any sibling?"

The freshman looked up at the makeshift movie screen. Judy Garland walked through her farm, singing and wishing that she'd wake up somewhere far away. "Used to…"


Saturday, March 8, 2014 at 6:12:03 PM


"It would help if you stopped fidgeting."

She wasn't fidgeting that much… What? She hadn't been to house parties since she was in college. And those days were long gone.

"Rukia, I can't believe you've talked me into coming."

"Orihime. You're not an old maid, so stop acting like it." Her friend raked a hand through a short dark hair. "I invited so many singles to this party. Now you need to mingle!"

Orihime appreciated her friend's effort, she truly did. But she didn't need anyone or anything. She wasn't looking or searching for anything in particular. Besides, Orihime highly doubted anyone would ever measure up to him anyway.

"Where's Renji?"

Rukia waved her hand as if to wave away the question. "Somewhere with his friends…"

Orihime tried not to linger on the fact that Rukia dodged that question like an oncoming train. But if she needed to find him, all she needed to look for was spiky crimson hair

The ladies stood near the island in the kitchen. It gave them the perfect vantage point. "These men are thirty plus years old and still single? What does that tell you?"

Orihime wasn't a judgmental person. She was open to conversation with everyone, no matter their looks. But in terms of "finding a man" in the words of Rukia, she needed to be picky.

"You have a point. But there's one guy I really want you to meet… He's here!"

A tall man with shaggy hair was approaching the ladies. He lifted a hand and smiled.

"Hi, Orihime right?" He shook her hand, his long fingers wrapping around hers completely. "Rukia's been raving about you."

"Yeah, sorry." Orihime gave Rukia and quick death glare before she walked away. "She does seem to 'rave' a lot more than necessary."

His thick glasses gleamed. "Raving doesn't seem to do you any justice. You are absolutely stunning."

A smile crept on her lips. Compliments were always nice to hear, especially when they're thrown at you all the time. Hearing a genuine one- a compliment whose purpose isn't to just get into her pants- was rare.

He was way taller than her. But then again, most people were. He towered over her and it was beginning to make her antsy.

Orihime tapped her glass in anticipation. "Thank you… I didn't get your name."

"I'm A-"

"Kurosaki!"

A big ruckus was made at the front door.

"You guys didn't tell me this bastard was comin' in!" Renij shouted.

"Aw, you're gonna make me blush!"

As stated before, most people were taller than her which made it difficult to see over crowds. She tried looking past the broad man to see the guy that just walked in. His voice was so familiar… it couldn't be. It just can't be the guy from the market earlier today…

"Anyway, like I was saying, I'm…"

Distracted, Orihime looked up at the broad man. "H-huh?"

"I'm a stockbroker. The job can get pretty heated sometimes.."

"I'm sorry, can you excuse me?"

The mother placed her drink on the counter and walked off. Luckily, Rukia's guest bathroom wasn't occupied and there wasn't a line.

Tonight just wasn't good for her. She wanted to splash some cold water on her face, but Rukia told her to wear makeup and smile.

Orihime stared back at herself in the mirror. She flashed some teeth, smiled, smirked… it all seemed forced. Fake. She just needed to go home and curl up to a good book. That sounded like a great way to end such a shoddy day.

First things first. Finding a way past her "date". Next, get to the front door before Rukia could find her. Making it to her car with no interruptions and driving home with no one knowing. Not the cleaniest or most concrete plan, but it was something.

Rukia found her quickly before she could reach the front door. "Orihime, where've you been? A-"

"I think I might go home."

Rukia deflated. "Oh, no! Please, don't do that!" She tugged on her friend's arm. "Don't do this to me!"

"I'm sorry, I just think this is… it's too early for me."

Rukia wanted to say "It's been two years!" but she held her tongue. When the time was right, Orihime would know. Until then, she needed to stop pressuring her friend.

Orihime took a deep breath as she stepped out of the house. There was something about clean, crisp air. She just couldn't get enough of it.

"Got bored with that guy really quick, did ya?"

The thirty-three year old turned. "Excuse me?"

Ichigo cocked his head to the left. "Mr. WhiteCollar. What a schmuck, right?"

Without a doubt it was the man from the market. He was still in a plaid button down and jeans and leaned against the archway. She could have walked away, said "goodnight" and carried on with her business. She knew that one of her favorite books was calling her name… but she was intrigued. He was baiting her. Like a tiny worm on a hook.

She decided to take a bite.

"Actually he's stockbroker."

Ichigo grinned. "Even worse."

Orihime took a few steps back and leaned on the arch opposite of him. "And what do you do for a living, might I ask?"

He dug in his pocket and pulled out a small black card with simple metallic writing. "Here. I'm a contractor."

"And do you always hit on married women?"

At that, Ichigo had to laugh. She looked sweet and innocent, but if you pushed the right buttons, you'll get a whole lot of sass. He liked that. "I have my boundaries, of course." He rubbed his orange scruffy beard. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you aren't wearing a wedding band or an engagement ring. It looks like a class ring. College?"

"High school." Orihime corrected him. He was talking about Keitaro's ruby ring… it held more weight than he could possibly understand.

"Orihime!" Rukia burst through the door, hoping her friend didn't leave just yet. "Orihime, take this with you!"

"Rukia, I know how to bake."

"I know, but this has cookies and cake slices, I thought maybe the kids would want some."

She hugged her friend. "Thank you."

Rukia looked behind her at the onlooker. "Oh, I see you've met Ichigo."

"I know him now. Well, I have to go."

"The offer's still on the table." Ichigo said quickly.

"What offer?" Ichigo walked across the street with her, opening her car door for her.

"That date you owe me." He said as he shut the door.

"The date I owe you?"

"Yeah. I accidently put my groceries in your car. As of now, my refrigerator is still empty." He rocked back and forth on his heels. "We could go grab something to eat sometime."

Orihime thought it over as she put the keys in the ignition. She did have usual groceries in her kitchen as she unpacked them. She thought maybe she had accidently placed them in the cart or if she mistaken someone else's cart as her own. Of course, of all the people in the world to have the groceries belong to, it had to be him.

"You'll probably be starved by the time that day comes."

Ichigo exhaled as if he'd been burned. "Ouch."

"Orihime…" He liked the way her name sounded on the tongue. Her name wasn't the only thing he liked. Watching her walk to her car, the way her hips swished. It was like livewire to his libido.

Rukia rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't even try, Ichigo."

"And why not?" He followed his old friend back to the porch. "Many guys ask her out? That's it, isn't it?" I don't mind competing with other guys. May the best man win."

Rukia scoffed. Men could be so narrow-minded sometimes. It always had to be a competition.

"Rukia, please. Tell me what's her deal."

"It's not my business, Ichigo. If you want to find out something about her, ask her out yourself. You'll actually be doing me a big favor." He grabbed her wrist before she could enter the house. She had always been a great friend, and right now he needed her help. He needed to know more about that woman, and he wasn't going to stop bothering her until he gathered more information- even if it was just a drop.

Rukia snatched her arm back. "If you want to compete so hard, try competing with a dead ex-husband."


Saturday, September 25, 1999 at 10:31:44 PM


The wicked witch yelped in pain. "You cursed brat," she shouted. "Look what you've done! I'm melting!"

He tongue felt thick as she tried to swallow down the night's event. As the movie played on, things slowly became more physical. Orihime wasn't sure if it was her own doing or if the other couples around them provided influence, but she allowed him to put his hands all over her and she touched him back. "…Keitaro…" Somewhere between the yellow brick road and Emerald City, Orihime took his jacket off and stroke his muscular arms. He didn't mind much.

"Hail to Dorothy, the wicked witch is dead!" The green soldiers chanted.

His right hand rubbed against her inner thigh and his left played with her hair. "Are you ready?" His smile teased. He knew what he was doing.

Orihime nodded, managing to croak out a "Sure" before gathering the blue afghan and his leather riding jacket and travelling back to the campus on his bike.

Mahana was surely in bed by now. She never stayed out longer than ten. The girl loved to party but even she knew when the party was over.

The girl thanked her beau for evening, even commenting on how terrifying the ride was. He responded with a smile and a hug. But when he turned to leave, she held on.

The furrowing of his brow indicated confusion. "I thought boys weren't allowed in this dorm."

Orihime shook her head. "They're not."

The eighteen year old stood on her toes and kissed his bottom lip for it was the only lip she could reach before walking back inside the dorm.


Sunday, March 9, 2014 Time: Unknown.


It was cold. Orihime brought the quilted blanket up higher over her arms but it only left her toes exposed.

The woman grumbled and adjusted her position on the sofa, bringing her knees higher to her chest. A warm hand slid across her belly.

"You're so cold," he whispered.

Before she could turn to look, to catch a whiff, to even say his name, he was gone.

Orihime woke up. She was still on the sofa, wrapped in the blue afghan quilt. The television was still on. The cable box above it read 1:31 AM.

Orihime groaned, pushing herself up. She really needed to stop with the late night work sessions. Her work papers were strewn all across the floor in front of the couch and she took great caution when stepping over them.

The quilt travelled with her to the kitchen as she poured herself a glass of milk.

It was always cold at night and the broken back door provided no help from the harsh winds. The only protection they had was the wonky screen door.

It killed her to not reach over and down a cup of cold coffee, so instead she finished off her milk and examined the bent door. It was hanging for dear life off the bottom hinge, and you needed to lift it in order for it to close completely which was a difficult task on its own since the door was so damn heavy. "I really need to get this fixed…"

Orihime fingered the business card in her pocket. Contractor… they worked on buildings and stuff right? So fixing a tiny backdoor would be easy, right?

…It wouldn't hurt to call… would it?

…would it?


In the scene where they're in the attic, I wanted to foreshadow their futures, or their mindsets. Orihime is obviously trying to reach the stars, trying to make something of herself, why Keitaro, is someone who has everything and nothing all at once.

I know I rated this M and I really want to put darker themes in this story, but I can't bring myself to write them out completely. I'm just not ready to completely cross that line in my writing yet. Maybe one day though. Tell me what you think! :)

Stay tuned.

Rocka