Left You Behind Chapter 11: watching as she wept, a bleach fanfic

…

The hollow had honestly just wanted a bite, not a fight. When it had missed the girl, it'd been beyond pissed. She looked delectable and the thick, dark reiatsu leaking from her was even better; it knew the power wasn't exactly from her, but her features were just a bonus. Roaring, its golden eyes widened when a burst of power erupted from below. The dust swept powerfully against the ground and blew away the snow. The reiatsu radiating from the smoke made the hollow's body sting.

"Impossible," It growled, stepping forward once more. As the dust and snow cleared, it was able to see the pretty woman, her hair had fallen from the bun and was now whipping around her steely face. She glared up at the hollow with hard, ashen eyes and her lips set in a frown. It roared in anger when it saw its unconscious prey lying on the ground, still alive. "What're you, onna?"

Orihime didn't move, "Tsubaki," She said softly in command, "Koten Zanshun."

…

Ichigo shifted in his bed and wearily sat up, fisting his hand in his hair. It was completely dark in the room and still. Groaning lowly, he swung his legs from the bed and pushed aside the blankets. Outside his dorm door, it was silent and he was sure everyone was asleep. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it read,

11:56

Tipping his head back, he tried to get out all of the kinks before kneading a hand into the back of his neck. He wasn't sure what, but something had woken him. He blinked a few times in the dark and felt the cool shot of wind. It was freezing here, and he glanced around to see the window in the corner perched open. Frowning deeply, he stood and carefully made his way across the room. The cool wind gusted into his face and naked chest and he quickly slammed it shut.

Weird.

He never left his window open, for he disliked getting distracted while he was writing or doing something important. It was also peculiar that he'd been woken up. He could've sworn he heard something, a yell or a shout, but I could just be his imagination or the ending of a dream. For some odd reason, his thoughts instantly directed to Inoue. Wondering where she was, or what she was doing. He only hoped she was asleep and well. Sighing, he turned back towards his bed, way too exhausted to think of anything else beside his head on the pillow.

And he didn't notice the jump in Inoue's spiritual pressure, nor the wide smile that spread across the feminine face outside his window as the Arrancar lulled him to sleep.

…

Orihime watched as the monster broke into little nothings, spreading and then vanished into the snow. Slowly, her eyes regained focused and she unclenched her tight fists and blinked a few times, her plush pink lips parting as she watched the snow continue to fall slowly and stick to the ground and melt into her long hair.

Suddenly, she felt something tug her hair sharply. She gasped at the slight pain, her eyebrows scrunching together. As if on cue, the small sprite flew into her line of view. Her silver eyes widened in surprise as the male hovered in mid-air, pose akimbo, and he raised a brow at her startled expression. To his shock and anger, tears suddenly filled her eyes and spilled around the edges, falling like shining crystals as they cascaded down her cheeks.

"W-What are you doing, onna!" He shouted, flailing wildly in great spurts for his short size, "STOP CRYING!"

"T-Tsubaki-kuuun~" She whined, her lips quivering as the tears continued to fall.

Shun'o and Ayame joined the upset attacker's side, both smiling brightly at the young woman. Lily giggled down at her, staring at the woman behind her yellow specks. Even Baigon along with Hinagiku. She stared at them all with wide eyes, utter astonishment shining on her pretty, wet face.

Tsubaki-kun huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, "You really are a handful. What the hell have you been up to since we've been gone?"

With unexpected speed, she reached out her palms and grabbed his tiny, strong body tightly. Tsubaki gasped, eyes widening with shock as he was cradled against her silky, heated cheek, and she beamed brightly, squealing his name – all of their names – and cried and giggled with sheer bliss. Ayame smiled fondly while Shun'o stuttered out,

"A-Ano…Orihime-sama? Tsubaki is very fragile. You mustn't be so rough."

"I'LL SHOW YOU FRAGI—LET GO OF ME, YOU IDIOT!"

Instantly, Orihime paused and her hands loosened around Tsubaki. Curiously, he looked up at her, wondering why she had stopped – for he had liked being around her, even though he would never admit it. Suddenly, she whirled around, and her eyes immediately focused on the limp figure just a few feet away, bloody and forgotten.

"Sho-kun!"

Cringing, her Shun Shun Rikka all watched as she hurried towards him, stumbling slightly. When she arrived to his body, she placed her small hands on his back, shaking him. Her vision blurred, but she knew enough that it wasn't from tears. She was tired, exhausted even, her lashes fluttered heavily. Desperately, she did her best to stay conscious. Swiveling her head around, she found her fairies staring down at her sympathetically.

"P-Please, Ayame, Shun'o, heal him!" She cried urgently, fisting her hands into his back once again, the material of his shirt ripping from her frantic grip.

Ayame's eyes softened, "Please understand, Orihime-sama, but we've been under for so long. You're reiatsu is very low and it'll take some time to restore. While you are restoring, so are we. You actually used all your strength destroying that hollow. We don't have the power to heal him."

Shun'o bowed to his waist, "We are very sorry, Orihime-sama!"

Orihime's tears slowly continued to fall, and her nose felt runny. Turning back to her savior, she glanced at the bloody red puddle under his head and the bruises decorating his usually perfect skin.

Tsubaki crossed his arms over his chest, "Well, don't just stand there, idiot. Get him some help, dammit."

Her eyes snapped wide before she nodded. Swallowing thickly, she stood on shaky legs, her hair slipping down her back gracefully. She carefully pushed him onto his back, trying to ignore the blood seeping from his dark locks. Looping her stiff arms under his pits, she tentatively started dragging his limp body towards the home. Her fairies followed her, watching warily as their master struggled and grunted, stumbling every now and then.

Don't worry, Sho-kun…

The tears continued.

Don't…worry…

…

"Hime-chan!"

Orihime's head shot up and, suddenly, arms were around her, the slim limbs holding her tight. Instantly, she returned the warm embrace, for she was in desperate need of one. Practically clawing into Aiko's pink dress, she tried to muffle the new wave of tears and sadness. Carefully, Aiko pulled away, but brushed down Orihime's thick tresses.

"We heard what happened," the black haired mother supplied.

"And rushed right over," Jiro continued, crossing his arms across his chest from behind his wife, "I can't believe that idiot would be dumb enough to fall down the stairs like that. He could've cracked his skull open."

Orihime dropped her hands to her lap and her gaze lowered, "I-It was my fault." She wasn't a very good liar (the doctors even had a hard time believing her story), but the truth rang behind her distraught words, "If I hadn't scared him, he wouldn't have fallen."

"Honey," Aiko shook her head, "It was the earthquake. Everyone felt it during the night. It's not your fault."

"That's right!" Jiro proclaimed loudly, jerking his hand out in a thumb's up, "Our son is naturally clumsy! He was a disappointment from the very start," Finding his comic relief wasn't working, he huffed and managed a somber expression, "I'm sure he's fine. Have you gotten any word yet?"

Orihime shook her head.

"Well," Aiko smiled prettily and clasped her hands in her lap, "We'll just have to wait then, won't we?"

Of course, they did. Aiko and Jiro were anxious, but very good at hiding it as they chatted and stayed in their seats next to the rigid Orihime. The redhead, though, was in her own world. Constantly, she found herself remembering last night. The hollow, the bloody Sho, and her memories.

First, she was beginning to lose her mind with impatience. She wanted to see Sho and her heart wouldn't stop thumping in her chest. What if he wasn't okay? What if something would go horribly, horribly wrong? She knew she wouldn't be able to live with the guilt and she wouldn't be able to go on without seeing his serious face every day. But of course, Tsubaki words would travel through her mind right after these thoughts.

"You can't be serious! He's going to live, onna! And we'll be here for you! We'll all be here for you! You won't be alone! Ever! So stop crying and whining before I SLICE RIGHT THROUGH YOUR STUPID BRAIN!"

Not the perfect words of encouragement, but it helped her enough last night to make her hands stop shaking and the courage to call the ambulance. The only highlight of her mind right now was her memories. In order to keep herself from panicking over Sho, she would constantly look towards her thoughts, find an old memory, and relive it over and over again until it embedded itself into her brain. She would never allow them to slip again.

And Kurosaki-kun. She remembered everything about him. And she couldn't believe she had forgotten, erased or not. Her love for Ichigo was written into her heart and soul, and now, there was nothing tearing her away from him. She would rather not eat red bean paste for a whole year than not being beside him. Her reiatsu was still low, so she wasn't sure if he could feel it, and she was extremely weak from the power set upon her body. She hadn't slept at all and spent the whole night in the cold, bright, smelly hospital.

"Excuse me," a deep voice broke into her thoughts. She blinked, and redirected her hazy eyes onto the doctor standing a few inches away from the trio. Jiro and Aiko stood instantly, the mother pressing her fragile hands to her small chest and Jiro placed his palms on his hips. "Are you the family of Hamasaki-san?"

Orihime looked up at the man, eyes widening as Aiko nodded urgently, "Is my son alright?"

Flipping up his files taped to the board, "Yes. He should be fine. He isn't showing any alarming symptoms. To our knowledge, he only has a concussion. It is very severe, but I can assure you he will be fine. Nothing should be wrong with his memories since he didn't get a direct hit."

Orihime's body shook with relieved tears. They gushed from her wide eyes and slid down slowly, "T-Thank Kami-sama…"

"YOSH!" Jiro grinned big, "My son isn't just a wimp!"

Aiko smiled pleasantly, "You're still concluding he's a wimp, though, ne, Jiro-san?"

Turning to the quivering young woman, the doctor questioned, "Didn't you say that he fell down the stairs?"

Orihime snapped her eyes up to him, "H-Hai!"

"Well, I guess that would explain most of the bruises and cuts. He must've fallen pretty hard," Looking to the parents, he said, "Please tell your son to be more careful next time."

"Yes," Aiko bowed respectfully, "Arigato gozaimasu."

"Can we see him now?" Jiro asked, smiling once more, "I want to be the first to lick his toes when he opens his eyes."

Aiko pursed her lips, "He'll be very upset, Jiro-san."

"HAHA!"

The family was leaded to the back of the hospital, up the elevator, to the eleventh floor. When the door was pried open, Orihime slowly walked in with the rest of the family and her eyes landed on the peaceful face of Sho-kun. He looked like he was sleeping, his tense features relaxed and his lips in a soft line. Bandages were wrapped around his head, but the blood was gone and he was tucked safely into the blankets. Machines beeped next to him unnaturally and something was attached to his right arm. Aiko clapped her hands together, beaming, grateful her only son had been saved and Jiro was trying to pry off his socks.

"Please don't do that, sir," the doctor prompted dryly as he sweat-dropped.

Orihime moved to Sho's side, sitting carefully by his bed with the uncomfortable seat. Carefully, she reached under the sheets and found his warm hand, strong and surprisingly soft – even though he did construction. Life seemed to flood from him as his lips parted, breath falling from his mouth in a gentle gust.

"He should wake up momentarily. When he does, please call the nurse. The stitches will ache when he registers them, and try not to stress him out. It'll tire him out and probably make the wound reopen."

"Hai, hai~" Aiko nodded.

Orihime, once again, was in her own world. She tightly grasped his hand, thriving off his warmth and life. Sighing in relief, she lifted the hand to her lips and lightly brushed them on his knuckles.

"Orihime," Jiro called as he finally gave up on the idea of having his son's toes in his mouth, and she looked towards him, "You should probably get some sleep. I understand you've been here all night waiting for my bum of a son."

Smiling brightly – surprising both the conscious persons – she waved her free hand frantically, "N-No! I'm fine. Thank you."

Shaking his head at her obstinacy, Jiro shrugged, "Whatever you say." Turning to his wife, he grinned widely, "We should throw a prank on him!"

"Eh?" She frowned up at her husband.

"We should paint his toes…or maybe draw a moustache on him, or maybe give him a wet-willy~!" He shouted happily and loudly.

"Jiro-san!" Aiko exclaimed with a surprisingly stern expression and he paused in surprise, "…We can't do it if we're very loud."

Mouth falling open in shock, he nodded vigorously before whirling around to shout at Orihime, "Hime-chan! BE QUIET NOOOOOW!" He hollered as he did poses and different voices with every word.

She blinked at his dramatics, "B-But I'm not—"

"Wha…"

All eyes blinked, widening, and Jiro paused, marker firmly in hand. Orihime swiveled her head around, her hair falling back down her back like an amber waterfall. The long hand in hers tightened around her fingers and she watched as his pale eyelids pulled back and the weary, hazy sapphire gaze was revealed.

"Sho-chan…" Aiko breathed happily.

He blinked a few times, growing adjusted to the new scenery. Carefully, he reached up a hand, his expression darkening, "Huh? What the hell? W-Where am I?"

"Don't move so much yet," his mother put in.

Blinking once more, he frowned, kneading his forehead now, "My head hurts like hell…"

Coming to his other side, Aiko rubbed his shoulder soothingly, "Calm down. You fell down the stairs," To this, he blinked again, "Do you remember anything? Is your memory okay, Sho-chan?"

Hiding the marker behind his back, Jiro asked, "Do you know what month it is?"

"Ah…It's becoming clearer. November."

"And your name?"

"Hamasaki Sho."

"And the handsome man talking to you now?"

"That perverted old geezer from the down the block,"

Jiro's face exploded with throbbing veins, "E-Excuse me?" Cracking his knuckles threateningly, he growled, "Wanna say that again? I think something's wrong with your head…"

Sho scratched his scalp and glanced away, harsh sarcasm leaking into his tone, "No? Heh. That's strange. For the life of me, I can't remember you…How weird."

"And just to let you know, Sho-chan," Aiko interrupted with a pretty smile, "We didn't prank you."

Sho narrowed his eyes at her, "…What great parents."

"Well," Jiro sighed, placing his hands on his hips, "We should go tell the doctor," Holding out a hand for his petite wife, he turned towards the door, "C'mon, Aiko."

"Hai, Jiro-san," She said pleasantly, clasping her palm with his and closed the door after them.

Silence.

Beep.

"Oh," Sho frowned, sitting up in bed. Slowly, he turned to face the redhead who smiled continued to smile softly down at him. "That's right." He stared into her silver eyes, crooking both brows, "I'm glad," a slow, rare smile lit up his handsome face, "You're safe."

She swallowed the lump in her throat – which oddly felt like glass – and forced herself to push down the feelings. Reaching up with her free hand, she rubbed the back of her head awkwardly, "Ha-ha. Yes. I suppose I am." She smiled gently, her slim eyebrows quivering, "T-Thank you. And I'm really sorry, Sho-kun. I didn't mean to…um…And I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. Just please believe me when I say I'm sor—"

"Orihime."

Her eyes fluttered open, wide and met his. A frown was on his lips now.

"You're acting weird." He reached up and tugged at her pink cheek, "You know, I can tell when you're upset about something. I'm not stupid."

Instantly, the tears poured over and slid down her cheeks, falling onto her sweater and causing her face to twist into agony. He smiled softly, watching as she wept.

"Idiot," drawled Sho, and he smiled fondly at her wet face.

…

Retrieving the bag from the clerk, Ichigo walked from the bakery. This was the second day he'd gone there, for he knew Inoue worked at the place, but she wasn't there. He sighed, the familiar scowl crossing over his features. Slowly, but surely, the darkness was embedding itself into his body. He wasn't good without Orihime; she brought light to his life and kept his world from breaking down once again.

Where are you?

Tightening his hand around the bag of breads, he decided he would give it to Eriko. She would eat it thoroughly. He paused in mid-step, prepared to fish out his phone with his free hand, when he heard,

"Kurosaki-kun,"

Instantly, his head shot up and he turned to see Orihime, standing only a few feet away. Wearing a pink short-sleeved peasant shirt that puffed on the sleeves, and a brighter, darker pink skirt that trailed down her long legs with tan loafers, she stood there, smiling gaily. Instantly, he was smiling with her, and walked towards the woman.

"Kurosaki-kun," she bowed politely, "Konnichiwa."

"Yo," he said lightly, watching as she rose, her hands clasped in front of her. "Where've you been? I haven't seen you for days."

Some kind of look passed across her face before it smoothed over, and a pretty smile played around her lips as she looked up at him with her wide, silver eyes, "I've been taking a few days off from work. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

His eyes narrowed, "What were you doing?"

Blinking, she opened her mouth and then closed it, "N-Nothing important. Sho-kun was in the hospital for a few days."

He blinked this time, "Nothing important? That's pretty damn important to me. Is he alright?"

She nodded, "Un!"

Sighing, he relaxed slightly, "And I guess you aren't gonna tell me why?"

And she shook her head, another smile lighting up her face, "Nope." He reached into the white bag and pulled out the bottle of water as she continued, "But I will tell you this," he looked towards her, "I had a nightmare last night."

Raising his brows, he frowned lightly, "Yeah? What about?"

She shook her head again, "Nothing too bad," he brought the water to his mouth and took a gulp when he heard that certain information, "Just when I went to sleep, I had a dream I woke up and looked in the mirror," her voice dropped a bit lower, "…and there was a big black moustache on my face."

Instantly, the water spurted from his mouth, "Wow. I thought you were serious for a few seconds." He wiped the droplets from his chin and chuckled as she grinned cheekily. "It was so quick, I almost laughed."

"But I'm serious~" she claimed, "I'm really, really serious, Kurosaki-kun!" She giggled as he chuckled as well and met each other's eyes. After a few moments of silence, she smiled again, "Today is very nice, isn't it?"

His eyebrows merged and he looked towards the sky. It wasn't sunny and the clouds were sticking together. Though, it wasn't snowing, it was still frigid. He could even see his breath. His eyes shot down to her slim, bare arms and he huffed.

"Are you cold?"

She shook her head, continuing to smile softly, "No. I'm not."

His eyebrows furrowed. He was used to Orihime being happy and bright, but at the moment, she was staring up at him with her earnest eyes, continuing to smile under his gaze, her hand clasped behind her back daintily.

"What is it?"

"Kurosaki-kun," she said his name with a tilt of her head, "I was wondering if you would come on a trip with me."

His eyebrows shot up. Heat spread from his neck to his cheeks as he thought of some alone time with Orihime, on a plane or by car. How long would he last? Scratching his messy hair, he averted his gaze and then looked back towards her face. She wasn't red, not even pink, and she beamed up at him.

"W-What do you—"

"I want to go to Karakura Town. With you."

…

She is acting weird.

And truly, she was.

He watched as they boarded the train together. It was at least a two-hour ride, so they would be going back by nightfall, depending on how long she wished to stay. When she'd said she wanted to venture to their hometown, he had stared at her stupidly for a few seconds. He couldn't think of anything else to do. But, she continued to simple smile up at him, hands together, her hair fluttering in the wind, hovering in mid-air around her slim shoulders.

"Okay," he could remember saying and she fluttered her eyelashes, lips parted. Now, here they were, tickets in hand, boarding the fancy bullet train. He went before her, for he knew she was very clumsy. Turning at the top floor, he looked down at her to see she was staring back at him with her wide eyes. He reached out a hand carefully and she gazed at it for a few seconds before she smiled again, slowly and beautifully, placing her own palm on his.

…

Small and large.

Slim fingers and rough digits.

A warrior with a broken heart and a healer with no memories.

…

He tugged her upwards and she stepped tentatively onto the steel stair, and stumbled. Instantly, his other free hand reached out and wrapped around her small waist. Her face hit his chest and they both staggered before Ichigo was able to gain his footing. But he tensed the next second when he smelled her floral scent and her soft, warm breath brushing his throat. She tightened her hand around his.

"Thank you, Kurosaki-kun,"

For some reason, he felt like it was for more than catching her.

…

The train moved along quickly and steadily. Ichigo could barely tell they were moving. He never really liked to travel, and he disliked moving around a lot. As he walked down the aisle, back towards where he left Inoue – he had only left a second to get a couple of magazines – but, by time he reached their seats, she was deep in slumber.

Greedily, he sucked in her features. Of course, Orihime was even more beautiful when her face was relaxed and gentle, no hint of smiles or furrowing of slim eyebrows. She exuded the aura of warmth and innocence. Her soft, pink lips were parted slightly and there was a vague hint of pink in her smooth cheeks. She had lifted the arm rest so she could lie down fully, but she was curled up, her arms limp on the seats, and her legs were bare. Surprisingly, her long skirt had moved up a few inches to reveal her long, pale shapely legs. Ichigo promptly felt that familiar heat rise around his ears. Sighing, he walked forward, placing the magazines on the opposite, empty pairs of seats, and walked towards her. Though, he knew he should probably be in his seat, he crouched down and watched as the air slowly left her lips.

She slept deeply, rosy lips and ivory, perfect skin. Cautiously, he reached for a lock of hair, wound it around his finger, and tested the flaming thick tresses between his index fingers and thumb. She was small, so very small, and fragile, something that he could easily break with one wrong word or twist of his fingers. Sometimes, he wondered what she thought of a fool like him. She could be with anyone she wanted right now; that senpai guy or one of her other admirers. But all she did was come to him, smile that silly smile, and waved her arms like windmills to get his attention.

"Kurosaki-kuuun~!"

He dropped the strand.

He was a lovesick fool, such a idiot when it came to her. He couldn't stop himself from finding himself happy when she was and laughing when she told one of her stories, or forcing himself to eat her sickly, thickening foods. Scowling, he sighed, and kept his hands away from her. It was better that way. For some reason, he found his gaze falling down to her legs.

Why?

He didn't know and he wouldn't question it. Her legs were nice; long and milky white and smooth, with slim calves and dewy thighs. He hadn't realized it, but she had removed her loafers and her feet were bare; small feet and tiny toes.

So delicate.

Her lips were the next thing to fall to his line of sight. So pink and full, sucking in little greedy breaths of air. As she gasped a bit, her tiny teeth were exposed, white and smooth. He wished to kiss her, more than anything at the moment. Her lips were soft and rosy and enticing, sending quiet shudders down his spine. Her lips pressed against his would probably make his life complete and he would be able to die a happy man, especially when she smiled a bright smile under brighter hair. As he reached out his hand again, and his knuckles brushed against her silky cheek, her eyelids fluttered.

"Kurosaki-kun…"

One, two, three heartbeats later, he replied,

"…Yeah?"

He watched as a slow smile danced around her lips.

"Thank you,"

…

The snow spread over the river and two figures stood, one short, curvaceous, long hair softly blowing in the wind, and the other tall, one hand tucked in his pocket, stance slightly lazy and idle.

Inoue turned her head slightly and peered over at him, "Kurosaki-kun,"

"Why did you want to come here?" He finally asked the question that had been burning his throat. Out of all places, she wanted to be here. She had no memories, no recollection of what happened here, all the laughs and battles and blood and tears. Why would anyone want to come back to this place?

There were a few moments of silence, and Orihime moved silently, arms lifting before she pushed back her hair with familiarity. Ichigo stared up at the slowly falling snow, the dark river, and the cloudy sky.

Why?

And she whispered, "Because it all started here."

…

His eyes widened, but he thought his ears were playing tricks on him.

As he turned, prepared to ask what did you say, he caught sight of the sapphire barrettes, now in their rightful place, pushing back her long bangs and her hair hovered in the sky, waving with the wind.

…

Prettily, she tilted her head a bit, "Ne?"

"I-Inoue…" His voice sounded off, weird, like he had swallowed a pocky whole.

Clasping her hands behind her back once more, she looked away from him and back towards the sea, "I wanted to come back here. I wanted to see everything, breathe air. After all, this is where I achieved my powers, and ate my first red bean sandwich, and watched Laugh Hour, and cheered on Tatsuki-chan. Oh! And I met Ishida-kun, Sado-kun, Abrai-kun, and Urahara-san, and Kuchiki-san, and…" She counted it off with her fingers before her bottom lip quivered, "A-And Kurosaki-kun."

Dropping her arm back to her side, her eyes began to sting harshly as Ichigo watched.

"When I remembered, I couldn't think of anyone else but you. I couldn't believe I could forget someone as important as you, someone who meant so dear to me." She pressed a curled hand against her thumping heart, "I-If I hadn't been so stupid to—"

"None of it," he cut her off strongly – yet still staggering from the recent development, "None of it was your fault, Inoue. And you're not a fucking traitor."

Gasping, she whirled around to face him, the snow billowing around them. She cradled a hand to her ample bosom and met his chocolate eyes carefully. "I-I haven't cried…for what I lost, Kurosaki-kun…"

He simply stared back, eyes hard yet soft.

She bit her bottom lip, "C-Can I…" She tightened her fist and her eyes lowered to the ground before she whimpered, "Can I cry now?"

He blinked at the question and watched as she met his gaze once more, desperately trying to hold in the tears with her ashen eyes. Swallowing heavily, he nodded, "Yeah."

"Is it really okay?" She whispered, her voice shaking.

"Yeah," he nodded and removed his hands from his pockets, "I'll be here until you stop."

And with that, she hurried towards him, tears running down her cheeks, and her body slammed into his hard. Soft curves molded to his hard muscles and he stared at the snowflakes falling around them. A shattered, broken sob broke through her throat and tainted his world. He felt that blur of pain in his ribs, connecting with her own agony.

She gripped his jacket with tiny hands as the tears continued, breaking through everything.

Instantly, his arms reached up on the own account and hugged her tightly to his chest, crushing her there. She probably couldn't breathe, and neither could he, but he felt better with her this close.

She wailed, loudly and stridently and his eyes narrowed as his hand cradled the back of her head, the fiery strands passing through his long fingers.

"I'll protect you next time," he vowed strongly, and his voice wavered, "I swear…I-I'll do a better job next time."

She gripped his shirt firmly.

"I won't let this happen again,"

And his tiny world flipped upside down.

…

"Yamamoto-sotaichou!"

"I am very busy. Please excuse m—"

"But sir! There's another problem..."

"…What?"

"Inoue Orihime's Shun Shun Rikka." The Shinigami paused, and swallowed, "The clips are missing, Head Captain."

…

I hoped you liked it. I'm sorry it's so late. I'm back in school now so I'm trying to get back on pace for my last year. Hectic, right? The smallest twelfth grader you'll ever see…Well, I'm only 5'2, I might be a little taller than some. Anyway, now some drama is going to happen. The Soul Society are such Ichihime blockers.

Now that Orihime has her powers, and Sho knows something, we can get on with the rest. I'll try to do better next time.

Btw, I LOVE Rusky-Boz from deviant art. She's SO good! Even though she only IchiRuki and Ulquihime, I still LOVE her artwork. Especially how she draws Orihime. I actually like Ulquihime, but I'll forever be Ichihime. Now, when I think of Orihime, I always think of how Rusky-Boz would draw her with her clips. So very beautiful. You should check it out.

-Star