REVIEW-IT INSPIRES ME! GIVE ME 10 AND I'LL POST THE NEXT CHAPTER!
As is the ever-disappointing fact of a fan fiction writer, I do not own Bleach...to my sadness. *sniffles*
SECOND DISCLAIMER: the beginning of this story was inspired by Blumberberry's Pain and Pleasure.
I felt oddly well rested when I woke up. Better than I'd felt in a while actually. And when my eyes zeroed in on my alarm clock I knew why. I had overslept.
I don't even remember getting out of the bed, the next thing that I can recall is grabbing a piece of pumpkin bread with peanut butter, putting on my shoes and running down the stairs so fast that I heard a few people yell at me from the insides of their apartments for being so loud.
And as fate would have it, the bus wasn't there when I screeched to a stop. I thought that I had missed it and that I would have to call a cab that would have to take me to school and I would have to call Tatsuki and then I would have to wait around because I got to school too early-oh there it was! The bus was late too!
I was so happy when I got on that the driver gave me a look as though considering whether I was mentally disturbed or not. And I didn't even bother correcting her, I was just too happy!...which might've been the problem, but whatever.
If Tatsuki noticed that I was a little happier from my good fortune this morning, she didn't say anything.
Ichigo wasn't at school today. Neither was Rukia. There were whispers that they were off somewhere together. I didn't want to believe them. But everything pointed to it being true. They had been seen together going into a store, talking near Ichigo's house, Rukia had even gone in! They were all from sources she trusted. They denied having a relationship at all, or even having known each other before Rukia transferred here. But I knew they did. Everyone knew.
I tried not to look too glum; but I saw Tatsuki give me a worried look and I knew I had failed.
When school was out, I went straight home. I did the laundry, vacuumed, and cleaned dishes like a woman possessed. Then I snatched the gallon of ice cream that was in the freezer and put that and some jalapeño peppers in a bowl and flipped on some cartoons. I didn't want to deal with people. People sucked.
I had liked Ichigo for years. He was just so completely unafraid to speak up, to stand for what he believed in. No one ever needed to save him. He was strong. He got picked on all the time because of his hair, and it was never good. He had fought off thugs from off the street, outnumbered twenty to one. But he never ever gave up. I think that was why I was attracted to him.
It helped that he was really, really cute. But...maybe we weren't meant to be. Maybe it was never in the cards.
I shoveled the peppers and ice cream into my mouth, trying to distract myself from my troubles. I got into this sort of zone where I just eat while staring at the screen, but not really thinking about anything in particular. It was a nice zone.
My zone was interrupted when my spoon made a distinctive screeching sound, signaling the end of my ice cream. Wow…when did that happen?...oh. The clock on the little coffee table read ten thirty. I had been sitting here for five and a half hours doing absolutely nothing. What a wonderful use of my time.
Knowing that if I were to stay up any later I would regret it tomorrow, I groaned and stretched and popped my joints all the way to the bathroom and started my shower.
The sun was well below the horizon when he arrived at the pole, having stopped for a moment or two to 'eat'. However, unexpectedly, her essence drowned the pole. Once again, he could not control himself as his body launched itself towards the intoxicating aroma, his hands grasping at every purchase, his tail wrapping itself several times around, and his wings encompassing the entirety, creating a cocoon that only he was allowed inside. It was an incredibly disappointing amount of time before he had gotten every drop possible out of the wood.
A errant thought made him pause. Surely last night he had left a certain echo-presence of himself, enough for her to tell the difference. It would have been cold, uncomfortable even, for her to stand next to the pole for that long. It was an impossibility that she did not notice, the difference from the norm being unavoidably noticeable to the pure soul. What remained of her had been enough to indicate she stood there for a longer amount of time than it would've taken her to notice.
He shook his head. The answers lied in that room. He would not get them otherwise.
His instincts only too eager, he flew to perch himself on the flat surface on the top again. It was rather late for a human, he supposed; she would probably already be sleeping. It took him only a second to figure out that that was not true as he watched her emerge from a steam-filled room, completely soaked.
He concluded that she had been participating in the human custom of bathing. He knew it involved a lot of water and some chemicals in a bottle, but demons did not require such time wasting acts.
The view from the unusually large window of her bedroom allowed him to watch as she grabbed a book from a large stack and plopped herself down onto her bed. Patiently, he waited as slowly she first put the book down and then her eyes closed in what he assumed was sleep.
After a moment, he was convinced he was in the clear, he flew the thirty feet to place himself in front of the opened window, the hooks on the joint of his wings scrambling to finally gain purchase on the crevices in the bricks.
Once he was sure that he wasn't going to fall inconveniently, he poked his head through the open window. It was rather foolish for her to leave her window open, he thought, anything could get in. Though, she was a few stories up, so the chance of a human getting in there was infinitesimal, so it wasn't too dangerous…
He looked to the left to see her gray eyes staring back at him in utter shock.
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