Spoken in Haste
Bleach; IchiHime
Word Count: 815
Warning: mild cursing
Disclaimer: all characters belong to Kubo Tite, except for the small one
*The following flash fic was originally posted to my Tumblr several months ago. So if you've already read this one, I'm sorry. However, there will be at least two new flash fics being posted to this shorts collection within the next day or two.
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What if ...there was a fight Ichigo couldn't win?
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~o0o~
"I want you to stay home this time."
Oh damn. Ichigo rubbed a hand over his mouth, wishing his could snatch back what he just said. It was an accident; it just slipped out. And who could blame him? Orihime took him by complete surprise when she announced that she also planned to come along when Urahara opened the gate to the Soul Society tomorrow.
Orihime didn't say anything in reply or give him any reason to suspect she was upset. However, Ichigo knew simply by the way she nodded and turned back to the counter to continue cutting up vegetables for supper that his words hurt her feelings.
After a tense moment of silence, Orihime glanced over her shoulder and asked for a bowl from the top shelf of the cabinet. Quick to do as she asked, he retrieved the bowl in question and handed it off with a lopsided smile, hoping to be forgiven for his thoughtless words. She took it from him with a sunny smile of thanks and –thankfully, restarted their conversation on a new topic –one that had nothing to do with Urahara, the Soul Society and their recent spate of problems in the least.
The remainder of the evening passed much like usual, their prior discussion all but forgotten. Instead, they talked about their respective day during the meal and clean up before they curled up on the couch to watch the nightly variety shows.
And through it all, Ichigo couldn't relax.
His palms were sweaty and his stomach churned as if supper didn't agree with him. It wasn't Orihime's cooking that was causing the problem, but his own guilty conscience. He watched Orihime from the corner of his eye while she laughed along with the TV audience. It wasn't like her to submit quietly to his demands -at least not without asking for a logical reason as to why. All he could do was wait and wonder when the other shoe would drop.
Finally, feeling wretched with guilt, Ichigo faced her to apologize when he felt it –a ripple in the boundary between the spiritual world and the physical one. A hollow. He was on his feet in an instant, his hand already sliding into his back pocket for his representative badge when …
"Daddy, read me the bunny book."
His eyes dropped to the tiny redhead sitting in a nest of colorful pillows on the floor. Melting big brown eyes stared up at him as his daughter held out her cherished storybook in his direction.
"Please?"
"Umm …" he tripped over his words, searching for an excuse, until his eyes landed on his wife. "What if mommy reads it to you tonight? Daddy needs to …"
Orihime held out a hand to interrupt. "It's all right, I'll go," she said as she moved with quiet purpose towards the front door.
"What?" He demanded in shock.
She glanced up from slipping on her shoes and Ichigo froze. "I want you to stay home this time." Orihime said in a honeyed voice that would make Rukia proud, and his jaw dropped.
Ichigo stared as she patted their daughter on the head, telling her she would be right back, and his stomach lurched once more. That wasn't fair. She couldn't throw his words back at him like that and expect him to take it quietly. "Orihime, we should talk about this, I think I should be the one-" His voice shriveled and died in his throat at the narrow-eyed look she shot him from across the room.
She wasn't mad –not yet anyway, but she was serious.
So he stood there, with their three year old daughter in his arms, and watched his wife slip out the door alone and into the night to face an unknown –and quite possibly dangerous fight.
After first reading Miyako's bunny book four times in a row until she fell asleep, he paced their small apartment, only stopping long enough to track Orihime's reiatsu from time to time –give or take every minute and thirty seconds. This really wasn't fair -this waiting at home, not knowing what was happening, worrying.
Oh.
Ichigo came to a stop and grumbled under his breath –well aware he was the one in the wrong this time. Sighing, he knew exactly what he needed to do to make amends and reached for the phone the moment he felt Orihime's spirit pressure turn towards home.
While he made the call to his dad asking him to babysit, along with arranging for Karin to pick up their mail for the next several days, Ichigo complained to himself that there's no way this could be a fair fight. Yes, Orihime had every right to be mad –they were partners, a team, but she really could have picked a different -and safer method to prove her point to his way of thinking.
~o0o~
A/N: In an effort to gather all my writing in one place I'll be moving IH fics from my Tumblr to here in the next several days.
As always, thanks for reading. ~Rairakku