A/N: I cannot apologize enough for how long it's taken me to get this update out! Rather than keep you from it, I'll save the explanations for the end. HUGE thank you from the bottom of my heart to all of you who've followed and favorited this story (and have waited for this update). It's completely taken off from my original plan (but in a good way), and it wouldn't have been possible without you. Please enjoy, and I hope I made up for the long absence! This chapter was a bear to write!
The walk (or in Orihime's case, ride) back to Orihime's apartment was relatively uneventful compared to the rest of the day. Contrary to what Orihime would believe, the gently paced walk (even with the added weight on his back) was good for Ichigo – both in mind and body. The remaining stiffness and achiness from his over-exertion over the weekend diminished into a distant memory, while Orihime's warmth and presence soothed the agitation he had felt when talking to Urahara; the irritation and frustration he'd felt at lunch mere hours before no longer even registering in his mind. Without having to keep constant vigilance on the clumsy auburn-haired healer, he was free to simply enjoy her company and the effortless closeness brewing between them as the conversation flowed easily, allowing them to talk about anything and everything. Ichigo thought it best to share what Urahara had told him about the hollows, even if he no longer wanted to dwell upon such things now that the shroud of darkness from their fight was lifted. Somehow sensing this, Orihime simply absorbed the information and moved on to something else; over time eventually relaxing against his back as his shoulders finally came down away from his ears.
With her arms easily looped around Ichigo's shoulders, the slight sway from each of his steps rocking her gently against his back, Orihime found the urge to discuss what was said when she was hurt in the baseball fields nearly too strong to ignore. The way Ichigo had spoken had been unlike anything she'd ever heard from him, and she wanted, no needed to know what that meant. But had that been something he'd intended for her to hear? Or was it something that had just slipped out, much like what she'd said to him when saying goodbye? Of course, the fact that he'd spoken such things to her at all said something, and even though her heart burned to know what that was, she couldn't bring herself to ask and risk popping the pleasant bubble they found themselves in.
By the time they arrived at Orihime's apartment, the sky was truly beginning to darken; the carpet of pale gray clouds turning a dark gray blue. Rather than put her down and allow her to walk up the steps herself, Ichigo stubbornly kept her secured to his back, actually having to shift his grip to keep her from falling when she let go, assuming he'd set her down. The change brought his hands higher up the back of her thighs, to someplace he should not be touching, and the squeal that escaped Orihime's throat nearly had him dropping her all over again.
"Sorry!" he exclaimed, frantically boosting her up so he could reposition his hands further away from her butt.
Even though she'd squealed in surprise, Orihime couldn't help but giggle, dropping her forehead to his shoulder as the laughter escaped her. Situations like this were happening more and more often between them and she wasn't sure if she should find them as hilarious accidents, or the universe's hints to get over their shyness already. Whatever it was, they were certainly getting more comfortable touching each other. "Kurosaki-kun," she managed between giggles, "You could just put me down!"
His grip on her loosened slightly as he spun on his toes with a devilish smirk, the centripetal force pulling Orihime away from his back so much that she had to fling her arms around him once more to keep from flying off. "I could," he began as he spun toward a familiar pile of snow that had already been greatly reduced over the weekend. "This looks like a good spot!"
He was all but running toward the pile of snow as Orihime latched onto him with a death grip, burying her face against his shoulder and tightening her arms and legs around him so much so that she threatened to choke the breath right out of him. "No! That's okay!" she pled, her voice shrill in his ear and yet muffled against his neck.
Chuckling, he immediately spun back, his hold on Orihime's thighs tightening before he started up the steps, dipping his head in determination and to hide the grin threatening to split his face. Why was it so easy to act like such a fool in front of her? And why did he not care about acting like a fool with her, when normally he was so serious? Love makes you do strange things I guess, he inwardly mused, before finally answering her. "You're right. I could put you down, but where's the fun in that?"
Butterflies took flight in Orihime's stomach at his words and for a moment she could only stare at the back of his head in amazement, her mouth gaping open in typical Orihime fashion. It was like the unruly orange hair sticking out from beneath a black beanie belonged to a completely different person than the one she knew. Wait, that's not quite right, her own thoughts trailed off. This is just the side of him I'm getting used to seeing in the first place. When she regained her senses, they were already more than halfway up her steps, and the time to convince him to let her down had already passed. Instead, she pursed her lips to the side and gently swatted his shoulder. "You're just saying that because you're afraid I'll fall," she pouted, only partially serious.
Ichigo risked a glance at her from over his shoulder, relief coursing through him when he could tell she wasn't entirely serious. He knew how upset she could get over feeling like such a burden, even though he found her clumsiness completely endearing. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he feigned ignorance, finally reaching the top landing. Even though he knew he should, he couldn't bring himself to put her down.
"Are you sure you didn't get some sort of head injury today?" she jeered right back, leaning forward against his back and mussing the beanie on his head when he made no move to put her down.
When she changed her position, Ichigo became more aware of Orihime pressing into his back, her grip on his hips with her thighs increasing as she tried to look at him from over his shoulder. The motion put not only their faces remarkably close together, but reminded him of the figure hidden beneath her bulky coat, the figure that captured the attention of nearly every guy in school, and was therefore the reason he wanted to punch just about all of them in the throat; and sparked a pleasant heat in his blood that was becoming more and more addicting the more she elicited it. Without missing a beat, his face morphed into a surprised mask as he looked at her with wide eyes. "Wait, who are you again?"
There was a pause, just long enough for Ichigo to feel his façade crack, as Orihime stared at him blankly. Of course, she knew Ichigo had a sense of humor, that he could crack jokes and make fun just like the rest of them, she just hadn't had the chance to see it very often; and the fact that he chose to show her so willingly (and apparently effortlessly) made her heart flutter happily. She was so taken with his teasing, however, that she forgot to come up with a witty reply, and his surprised look quickly changed into a happy smile – a smile she knew he saved for her. "Kurosaki-kun!" she cried, squeezing him tightly around the shoulders once more as her face immediately heated.
"Who is this Kurosaki-kun you're talking about?" he continued with the charade, urged on by the darkening of her cheeks. Once he eyed the door, he finally realized how cold it was becoming now that they were no longer moving. "Wait. Where are we?" He turned wide eyes back over his shoulder before frantically looking around them. His now skewed beanie only added to the silliness of their situation. "Do I live here?"
One arm came away from around his shoulders and Orihime shifted on his back, digging in her coat pocket for her keys. "No, silly. I live here. I just make it a habit of inviting complete strangers into my home." Her keys secured in her hand, she leaned over him once more to unlock the door, fidgeting just enough to make Ichigo question his sanity in continuing to hold onto her. "So, would you like to come in?" she beamed at him, her smile easy and wide.
A thought shot through his mind at her words, conjuring an image he could only hope might someday become reality. Orihime stood before him dressed nicely and yet casually; in a form-fitting tank top underneath what was obviously one of his button-up shirts, with all the buttons undone. The tank-top was low-cut enough and his shirt gaping wide enough to reveal milky skin and cropped leggings showed just the right amount of her ankle and calf. When she leaned forward against the doorframe, his shirt would slide off her shoulder some, the position offering just a peak of cleavage as she easily took his hands and pulled him across the threshold, immediately dragging his hands to her hips as the easy smile she greeted him with turned into something more coy. While the image could be considered tame by many standards, it was something he'd never seen her in, and for some reason his awake mind struggled to see her in anything that could truly be considered "revealing". Besides, there was certainly something to be said about seeing her wearing his clothes…
It was either a result of their flirting (who was he kidding, he couldn't lie to himself about it anymore) or his quick daydream, but Ichigo responded to her question in a way he never would have before, and with remarkable ease. "When you phrase it like that, how can I refuse?" he chided, quickly pushing the door open wider before stepping inside. He was still aware enough of their surroundings to make sure he ducked, protecting Orihime from smacking her head on the top of the door jam.
Likewise feeling bold and brave, Orihime's mind raced through various replies to his teasing (and what she was also quickly starting to understand was in fact flirting). Not sure where the idea came from but deciding that going with the flow had worked well enough so far, she reached around the front of him to the zipper of his coat. "Then let me help you out of this," she cooed, her breath warm on his ear. When she felt him shiver beneath her, she smiled even wider, slowly tugging the zipper of his coat down.
Holy fuck, Ichigo was cursing in his mind, his thoughts taking a much less PG-13 turn as he kicked the door shut behind them. How the hell did we get HERE?! While it wasn't something he'd never thought about, the circumstances were like a sudden slap in the face. They were joking around, kidding, teasing, flirting – which meant it wasn't real, at least not entirely – which meant there would be no roughly pulling off her coat and only getting it far enough down her arms to trap them at her side before kissing her, or before she chose to pull him down the hallway towards her room, managing to rip his coat off along the way and probably stumbling into the walls as they went….
'Seems to me you've put an awful lot of thought into this…' His hollow was, as ever, quick on the uptake.
Rather than argue, Ichigo chose to defend himself. 'Are you kidding me?! She's perfect. I'd be insane if I hadn't!' Although it felt wrong to do so, and it was in fact unnecessary since his hollow had access to all his thoughts and feelings anyway, he resisted the urge to admit that it was also largely because he was in love with her, which meant he was in love with everything about her.
Orihime clearly hadn't thought her taunt through well. She'd barely gotten the zipper to Ichigo's coat halfway down before she could reach no further from her position still perched atop his back and he showed no sign of putting her down; in fact, he was remarkably still beneath her. Rather than cut their flirting short, she changed tactics, something that sent her heart rapidly pattering against her bruised ribs. With a huff, she pushed herself back from his shoulders, giving up on the now out of reach zipper. "You make it a habit to let strangers take off your clothes?" she baited.
His eyes were distant, fixated on a point in front of him rather than risk looking at the woman at his back. He'd held onto her too long as it was. With an inward groan, he finally released her, the way she slipped down his back not so unintentional this time as it was the week before. Just last week, the sensation of her slipping between his hands had sent both of them into a nervous fit, this time they were strangely calm and silent, despite the undercurrent building between them. This time he felt warm all over, with an odd weight settling in his belly and that same tight band squeezing his chest. He both cursed himself and praised his boldness as first her thighs, then hips slid between his hands. If she knew what he was doing (or cared), she gave no sign as she held onto his shoulders as though to slow her descent until the last moment, when her toes just touched the floor and his fingers grazed her waist, and they separated at the same time, each taking a reluctant step apart. For once, he did not even feel guilty about taking such liberties that he had no right to, even if she appeared not to care. It had been nice to finally just do what seemed right rather than agonize over every little thing with her; and he knew it was no coincidence that what felt right naturally involved being closer to her than ever before. His thoughts oddly clear and yet muddled, a lopsided smirk adorned his lips when he turned to face her and replied, "Nah, just you," and immediately wished he could turn back time and clamp his hands over his mouth before those words could spring forth like word vomit. In an uncharacteristic move, he bit his lower lip, shocked that he'd actually said the words he'd meant to only think out loud. His heart hammering against his ribs, heat spread across his face and down his neck, but thankfully it was too dark for Orihime to notice. FUCK! What the hell was that?!
Although his hollow said nothing, the echoing cackle within Ichigo's mind was like a stake in his surprisingly taut gut.
It was Orihime's turn to act surprised and coy, although the surprise wasn't much of an act. She hadn't missed the way his hands grazed her body as she slipped from his back, and like him, she'd taken her own liberties; slowly sliding down him, prolonging their contact in an agonizingly sensual way. The fact that he hadn't shied away made her heart soar, butterflies taking wild flight in her stomach. And now this?! What did he just say?! It was hard not to squeal, but she did it inwardly, her insides jumping for joy as her face all but burst into flames, despite the flirtatious smile that ended up tugging at the corners of her lips. Twisting in front of him as a way to let out her nervous energy, she nonetheless felt surprisingly brave, his choice of words encouraging their banter if nothing else as she unzipped her own coat. "Well, you obviously had your hands full."
His eyebrow rose without his permission at her choice of words and before he could stop himself, he was chuckling, shaking his head as he finally undid the rest of his zipper himself. "That's one way of looking at it." Damn it! I need to stop talking, just stop! He mentally face-palmed, using his coat as an excuse to avert his eyes.
The deep timbre in his voice, his sudden change in behavior, and the somehow incredibly sexy way he'd simply unzipped his coat made a pool of heat coil low in her belly and Orihime's façade cracked, the banter ceasing as she tried to process what exactly was happening in their conversation. "Kurosaki-kun," she breathed.
Ichigo felt disoriented, like he was living in some alternate reality at the same time as his current one. He didn't have much experience with flirting, but he'd thought things had seemed to be going well, so what happened? Why was he suddenly blurting out things he wasn't ready to say? It was like he'd lost control over his brain-to-mouth filter. Maybe Inoue's right. Maybe I did get hit on the head today…. He didn't know enough about the whole situation to even venture a guess. In fact, he suddenly found himself wondering how the hell Mizuiro managed so many women at once when he couldn't even manage one; or how Renji managed to put up with someone with Rukia's temperament when he was failing epically with an angel. It was confusing to say the least, but nonetheless, he focused on what Orihime needed, not what he wanted, and said the words he loved to hate, stoically ignoring his hollow's taunt of, 'Pussy!'
"You need to get some rest, Inoue."
She hesitated, her lips parting as though she meant to argue with him, but instead she remained silent, her eyes locked on his and Ichigo found himself momentarily mesmerized by the shadows cast by her long eyelashes. It was all but dark outside, and they had yet to turn on any lights in the apartment, but even so her eyes sparkled in the dim light. Depths that normally appeared stormy resembled a deep, dark pool that would easily drown him if he wasn't careful.
Orihime broke eye contact first, her brows furrowing as she pouted, shrugging out of her coat. When Ichigo did not move, she pulled off her beanie and flipped the switch to turn on the lights, casting them in such sudden brightness they both flinched. The blinding light somehow immediately set off a throbbing ache within her head, and she squeezed her eyes shut to block the offensive rays. She must have hit it harder than she thought…
When light flooded them, Ichigo's face fell into a frown. Orihime had her eyes squeezed shut, as though in pain, but that wasn't what initially caught his eye. Swallowing, he took a step forward to caress the side of her chin, where a faint bruise was just starting to darken her otherwise flawless complexion.
Startled by his sudden touch, Orihime's eyes flew open, her breath stilling in her throat as her heart skipped a beat. His eyes were not on hers, but drawn lower, where his touch was as gentle and light as a feather, ever careful not to cause her more pain. He was a mere inch from her lips, and they opened slightly with her silent gasp, tingling of their own accord, as though he'd gently brushed his thumb over them. But that was just wishful thinking, and her eyes drifted closed as she absorbed his care and concern for her as it radiated through his fingertips.
Even as Orihime was pleasantly daydreaming, Ichigo found himself wanting to do just what she wanted and drag his thumb across her barely parted lips. In fact, his hand shifted to do just so, his thumb hovering for a moment before finally retreating with a clenched fist. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," he breathed.
A soft smile graced her lips as her eyes slowly opened, remnants of his tender warmth remaining on her skin. "I'm sorry I argued with you," she murmured, resisting the urge to grab his retreating hand. Something flashed in his eyes at her words, but he didn't give her the chance to see what; quickly changing his mind about pulling away and gently tugging her into the circle of his arms instead. Even though she involuntarily squeaked in surprise, she melted into him, her arms immediately circling his waist as his wrapped around her shoulders. His cheek pressed warmly into her temple as she buried her face in his chest. It was remarkably easy, surprisingly comforting, to both of them as Ichigo sighed in contentment and she smiled, nuzzling even closer to him in the process.
Minutes passed. He needed to let go of her; he knew he did. He needed to get home, explain to his dad about the rift and why the school may have called about his absence – thankfully he could blame it on the hollows if the school even called. Rukia was thankfully good at modifying memory so those attendance calls rarely happened (not like his Old Man really gave him that much of a hard time about it, if at all). Regardless, Orihime had been told to spend the rest of the day in bed and rest. She certainly wouldn't do either of those things if he continued to hang around her, but that didn't make leaving her any easier. They'd been through a serious battle, and she'd been fairly seriously injured. Was it really his fault if he still didn't want to be apart from her?
Still not releasing him, Orihime squeezed him a moment to catch his attention. "Are you hungry?" she mumbled into his chest, her breath a warm caress against him. It was the first time she was aware that she'd slipped her arms around him from underneath his coat, and she was suddenly grateful he couldn't see her face as heat rose from her chest to the crown of her head.
Scarcely suppressing the shudder that threatened to overtake him at the sensation of Orihime's breath on his skin, he shook his head slightly, pressing into her as he did so. He was hungry, but that wasn't what mattered. "You're supposed to go to bed. If anything, I should make you something to eat." She was silent; acknowledging his words while stubbornly refusing to ask for help. He wouldn't let her off that easily. "What do you want to eat?" he asked, finally pulling away from her so he could look into her eyes. Clearly reluctant to release her, his arms slid down, loosely gripping her elbows to hold her as close as he dared, an action she mimicked without realizing it.
Shaking her head, Orihime tried to get the image of Ichigo in a strawberry apron in front of a steaming stove out of her mind and couldn't, her smile betraying her mental picture. "I'm fine, Kurosaki-kun."
Her stomach chose that moment to growl, startling both of them in the stillness of the apartment so much so that Orihime squealed in embarrassment.
"Your stomach disagrees," he pointed out, a smile gracing his features.
Orihime frowned and looked at her toes, the hunger she felt truly making itself known, as well as the return of the aches and pains from their battle with the hollows. Her headache, which hadn't truly sunk in until she turned the lights on, was more than a dull throb between her ears. Still, she was reluctant to put him out in any way, even if she didn't want him to leave.
Ichigo frowned down at her, contemplating his options when his thoughts were interrupted by the chirping of Orihime's phone. She'd just gotten a message.
As though pulling herself from a fog, Orihime shook her head slightly as she stepped back, out of Ichigo's arms. He did the same, averting his eyes as he nervously cleared his throat.
Brushing a stray strand of hair back from her face, Orihime pulled her phone from her pocket and unlocked the screen. While the message would normally make her smile, she found the smile tinged with sadness for what it meant. "Head's up! Rukia and I are coming to your house in a few minutes! Just ordered a pizza, so I hope you're hungry!" It was from Rangiku. Scarcely a second later and another message popped up. "Oh, and Rukia says Deathberry better be gone by the time we get there! Hehe!" Despite what the message implied, Orihime couldn't help but giggle at Rangiku's use of Ichigo's little-known nickname. He'd be furious if he knew Rangiku liked to call him that!
Curious at Orihime's reaction, Ichigo watched, his head cocked to the side and one eyebrow raised, as Orihime shook her head and quickly typed out a reply before looking up at him. "Rangiku-chan and Rukia-chan are on their way here," she started. "They ordered pizza."
Trying not to let his disappointment show, Ichigo ruffled the hair at the back of his neck before finally straightening out the hat he'd scarcely remembered Orihime mussing. "Well, that solves that problem, then." His small smile was slightly forced, but he hoped Orihime couldn't tell, even though he knew she would.
Before she could think better of it, Orihime stepped back to him, wrapping her arms around his middle once more and sighing with content the moment he immediately returned her embrace. She felt him sigh when his cheek rested against the side of her head and her eyes closed. If she could only spend the rest of the night here, she could die happy. "Thank you, Kurosaki-kun," she murmured.
He chuckled once, breathing harshly out his nose as he oh-so-slightly tightened his grip and nuzzled Orihime gently, something he was surprised to realize was becoming commonplace between them. The scent of her strawberry shampoo permeated his senses as he all but buried his nose in her hair and he had to fight to suppress a smile. "Stop thanking me." Her only answer was a gentle giggle that he felt shake through her whole body before they parted, taking an extra step back from each other as though to avoid the temptation of returning to each other's arms. Nonetheless, Ichigo still found it hard to leave, not wanting to leave her alone while also not wanting to deal with Rukia and Rangiku – he knew Rukia was going to hound him with questions later, and the lieutenant might possibly be even worse. "Put some ice on that chin," he quietly instructed, allowing himself the small pleasure of brushing his fingers against her, just behind where the bruise sat darkening. Without thinking about it, his thumb gently brushed just beneath her lips, in the little dip that started her chin. It was an act that felt as natural as breathing but startled him as much as having a bucket of cold water dumped on him.
His touch caused a band to squeeze her heart so fiercely Orihime thought she might not be able to breathe, even though her heart also felt like it might fly right out of her chest. Her hand came up to touch her bruised flesh just as Ichigo's retreated, and she smiled, her eyes dancing in the light once more. The look she gave him all but melted him on the spot as she nodded. "I will."
Come on! Leave! He was shouting at himself in his mind, figuratively grabbing his own hair to get his attention as he lingered. Ironically, it was his hollow that saved him.
'Better get the fuck out of here before I decide to do something about your damned teenage angst!'
As though physically slapped, Ichigo jumped and turned, clearing his throat as he glanced back at Orihime one more time from over his shoulder. Her hands had moved to clasp each other just in front of her chest, happy tears causing her eyes to sting as she fought to keep them at bay. He was thankfully too startled by his own actions to notice. "Good night, Inoue."
He was pulling the door open when she quietly replied, "Good night, Kurosaki-kun."
"Ok! Spill!"
Orihime's eyes felt like they might just pop out of her head as she jumped in surprise. "What?!" she choked.
Grinning mischievously, Rangiku sauntered over to her side of the table. The three of them sat on the floor around Orihime's table, the pizza split between them and warm drinks steaming from their mugs. They had agreed to let Orihime at least eat before hounding her, it just so happened that Rangiku took that to mean a single bite of pizza would count. "I saw how he was holding you and how he reacted when the captain touched you. So, what happened?!"
"Wait a minute! What?!" Rukia shrieked, her mouth hanging open despite the partially chewed piece of pizza currently taking up residence. Although she had been filled in by Urahara, his report had been objective, and of course she would miss such a moment between the two!
Her brow furrowing, Orihime tried and failed to understand what Rangiku was talking about. Although they had been in a rather compromising position after the battle, since Ichigo had all but pulled her into his lap, clutching her to his chest as though he were afraid she was going to disappear, neither of them had seen that. Unbidden, her cheeks warmed as she remembered the wild look in his eyes, the way he'd dropped his forehead to hers, how she had been able to feel the ghost of his panting breaths against her lips. Had she imagined the touch of his lips against her neck? She didn't think so, but even so, she still doubted it had been a conscious act on his part. Regardless, nothing had made her feel more precious, more valued, more loved than how he'd acted in those final moments of their battle with the hollows. Even once she'd woken, he'd refused to put her down. Maybe he didn't kiss her, but it wasn't the first time she was beginning to wonder if one of them might have crossed that bridge had Rangiku and Toshiro not shown up when they did.
Orihime had been quiet so long, her eyes distant as she replayed the afternoon with her cheeks peppering pink, that Rukia smacked Rangiku with the back of her hand. "You broke her!"
Rangiku scoffed as she batted Rukia's hand away, her pale blue eyes dancing even more fiercely when Orihime startled at the sound of their voices. "Oh, I think Kurosaki broke her," she chided, her smile practically splitting from ear to ear.
"What?" Orihime squeaked with a physical jolt. "No! He'd never!" When Rukia and Rangiku simply burst into a fit of laughter, she clapped her hands over her mouth to stop herself from saying anything more.
"Fine, don't tell," Rukia countered once they'd sobered up again. She took a fresh bite of pizza before calmly threatening, "I'll just ask Ichigo about it."
"No!" Orihime squealed, grasping Rukia's arm with surprising strength.
"Then spill!" the two Soul Reapers shouted in unison.
Her chest heaving as though she'd been cornered, Orihime licked her lips nervously as she glanced between her two close friends before her. Tatsuki was her best friend, but she considered herself blessed to have such amazing friends in Rukia and Rangiku as well, despite their antics. "There's nothing to spill!" she whined after a moment, throwing her head back against the couch behind her in her exasperation, and feeling the pain flare in her chest, neck, and head as a result. "Nothing happened!"
The two Shinigami's sitting across from her shared a surprised look, their eyes wide and mouths agape as they glanced at each other, before turning their attention back to the auburn-haired healer before them. "Does that mean you wanted something to happen?" Rukia asked, her voice low and conspiratorial.
Frowning, Orihime pursed her lips to the side as she forced herself to pull her gaze from the ceiling. Rukia was leaning forward on the table like a hungry beast, Rangiku still holding a piece of pizza halfway to her mouth as she beamed. "Please don't make me say it," she pleaded, folding her right arm across her chest to nervously grab her left. Somehow saying any of what she felt inside out loud made it feel like what was building between herself and Ichigo might disappear.
"That bad, huh?" Rangiku asked, her expression no longer hungry for information as she sat up properly and finally took a bite of her pizza. "Should have known."
"That's not it!" Orihime immediately countered, somehow feeling like she had to defend Ichigo. She also knew she couldn't avoid this forever and sighed, looking at her hands that were now clasped together in her lap. "It was… wonderful."
"Orihime, do you not remember the part where you got a concussion and a few broken ribs?" Rukia didn't hesitate to ask, her dark brows furrowed. "How hard did you hit your head?"
The question immediately made Orihime chuckle, remembering her shared banter with Ichigo. When the others simply looked at her in open confusion, she waved a hand in front of her face in dismissal. "Not that part, obviously." Her right hand rested along the side of her ribs, which felt much better than before, even if they were still sore. "Him. He was so… sweet," she breathed, her voice trailing off into a barely audible whisper as her eyes grew distant once more.
Rangiku took another bite of pizza before she stated, "I find it hard to imagine Kurosaki being anything resembling sweet."
To Orihime's surprise, Rukia came to his defense. "I wouldn't say that." She smiled when she looked back at Orihime, her violet eyes dancing. "He hides it well, but I know he's got a softer side underneath that rough exterior."
Just the previous week, Orihime might have heard Rukia say such a thing and felt nearly overwhelmed with jealousy and angst. Now, such words only reinforced what Ichigo had told her – that they were close, but as though they were siblings. His life had been forever altered by the tiny Shinigami. It was only natural and being able to tolerate hearing such things made her smile wistfully. "He does."
There was a momentary lull, Rukia calmly taking a sip of her tea before she finally interjected, "That said, you still have to give us details or this is never going to end."
Rangiku was lowering a glass of sake that Orihime did not remember her getting in the first place. "Cheers to that!"
Orihime could only groan and seek to drown her sorrows in her own tea.
If you're reading this, thank you for taking the time to do so. I had much happen over the past couple months, most of it good, but some of it also bad, which is what has kept me from writing. The good: I was frantically trying to catch up to my daughter in reading Harry Potter for the first time ever (I know, I know, lol). My daughter actually finished them before me (EEK) so I had to get through them as fast as possible so we could all watch the movies (which I saw before I read the books – don't judge lol). Once that was done, we bought a house! Which of course came with packing and moving and then settling things in. In the midst of all that, I was honestly re-reading the story to get reoriented when I suddenly had to put my dog of 14 years down, that I've had since she was 7 weeks old. It destroyed me (like I knew it would), and honestly, it's taken almost 2 months for me to even want to look at my stories… But this is my outlet, so I'm getting back to it for myself as much as for you! So yeah. I'm sorry I've been neglecting IchiHime, but I had reasons! I am not going to turn into one of those writers that disappears, I promise. This story (and my others in process) has not been abandoned!
And now, long story long, I'm making a goal of updating (not only necessarily this story, unfortunately – I have others that need wrapped up too that are being neglected but this has the most to go/ready) at least once/month. It's not a hard and fast goal, but I would like to do that if I could. Fingers crossed! I know I've had much more prolific times, and I'd like to get back there if I can. Just life likes to get in the way. That said, I DO hope to at least get to the dance by Valentine's Day – only makes sense, right?! Thank you, thank you, thank you again for reading, favoriting, and/or commenting on this story. I love to read your thoughts and it feeds my little writer's soul to know that this story is so well liked/followed. Please stick with me. I promise the moment everyone (including myself) has been waiting for is coming!
As always, I regrettably don't own Bleach or any of the characters. They all belong to Tite Kubo. I just own this story.