Orihime wasn't one to let sulkers sulk in peace. Those who appeared drepressed in her presence were nagged and doted over until annoyance had replaced whatever woe they had felt to begin with. It was a step up at best and a lateral move at worst.
She knew this very well and did it consciously, locating the moody like a wolf tracks prey. Today, that prey was Ishida.
"Ishida-kun," She began, a bid to get his attention.
He looked over to her briefly but gave no response and soon returned to staring into the distance.
"Ishida-kun," she said again, but expected no answer. "You shouldn't be so depressed, I'm sure there's a way to get your powers back." This time he didn't even look her way, but rather glared with more passion at nothing in particular.
"It's not like you're worthless without a bow and arrow," she said, stumbling awkwardly around what she really meant. She tugged at the bottom of her grey skirt nervously, because Ishida was basically a brick wall at this point and the odds of her words being of any benefit seemed bleak. She swallowed a sudden, deep feeling of guilt, because in a sense, this was all her fault.
"I'm sorry," Orihime said quietly. "If I'd been stronger, you wouldn't have had to..." she trailed off. Her meaning was clear, though finishing that sentence would make her quite miserable. She was thinking again that she always brought people misfortune through her weakness - if she hadn't needed to be protected from Kurotsuchi, Ishida wouldn't have had to completely use up his powers, and he wouldn't be in this state of depression now.
"I'm sorry," she repeated, almost crying. "It's because of me. If there's anything I can do to help..." She didn't notice that he was actually looking at her now.
"Orihime," he said blankly. "Come here."
"Huh?"
"Come here," he said again with an almost frightening tone of authority. She complied and obediently closed the distance between them, walking up the wall he was leaning back against and standing a couple feet from him. "Yes?" she said, waiting for him to explain why she had been beckoned.
He put his hand around her wrist and pulled her closer still until she was directly in front of him, only a few inches seperating them. Her eyes widened with suprise as he out one arm around her, hand resting on the small of her back. She blushed at the heat his of his fingers on her back through the thin fabric of her shirt. Orihime looked away in embarassment, but he slid his other hand up her neck and ran his fingers through her orangeish hair, turning her head to face him.
Ishida looked over her face, her eyes still shining with tears of guilt and her cheeks flushed pink. He thought he could hear her heart beating faster, but she looked so sad and uncertain that he couldn't stand it. In an instant he pressed his lips to hers, tightening his grip around her as she hesitantly took hold of the front of his shirt to steady herself. Orihime felt absolutely miniscule in his embrace, his warmth all at once like a formidable wall and a favorite quilt, consuming her and wrapping all around her.
Finally, he moved his lips away from hers, but did not loosen his grip. "It wasn't your fault, Hime," he whispered into her ear. "And if it had been because of you, it would be worth it."
