A/N: I know I had wanted to get to the dance by Valentine's Day, which clearly I have not been able to do. Work was too demanding and when I had time, I was simply too tired, but I hope this "quick" update will make up for it; and please know that I have a lot of leading up to the dance already written so you shouldn't have to wait so long between updates. Thanks for your patience and your kind words after the latest update. Your support means the world to me!
As Orihime was being interrogated, Ichigo was just making it home. The walk had taken longer than usual; his thoughts in turmoil as he'd all but lost sight of his own surroundings, his mind on the auburn-haired healer he'd just left behind. He'd never felt such warmth between them, their playful banter glowing embers feeding the growing fire of tension hidden just beneath the surface. After rescuing her in Hueco Mundo, he'd allowed himself to give in to what his heart desired and wildly pulled her into his arms, and she'd clung to him just as desperately; but that had been different. Sure, there'd been some undercurrent tugging at them even then, but nothing like what was pulling at them now.
In the course of one afternoon, he'd increased the number of times he'd acted so rashly three-fold. There had been no questioning his actions at the time, no agonizing over what his feelings (or hers) might mean, no real thought; he'd simply needed to hold her, the thought of her injured or worse, killed, predominating everything else. Nothing else mattered, except clutching her to his chest and feeling their hearts beating so closely together. That was an easy enough way to explain his actions after their fight with the hollows, but once they were back at her apartment? There was no explaining that away. He simply wanted to embrace her, and although touching her was still oftentimes nerve-wracking, it was becoming more and more soothing with each touch between them. She fit in his arms, as though she belonged there. The fact that he wanted to touch her so much no longer surprised him, it was the fact that he was able to do so, so easily that threw him off balance. Hell, he'd all but pawed at her and she hadn't batted an eye! In fact, she'd returned his affections nearly just as quickly.
Although he hated to admit it, it was probably a good thing Rangiku messaged when she did, because even though he'd tried to keep his motivations pure and with Orihime's best interests in mind, he couldn't help that he was also staying with her for his own pure selfish need to simply be near her. The more he thought about it, the more he was beginning to believe he might have done something more than that if he'd stayed much longer… The urge (and desire) to just kiss her had been nearly too powerful to ignore, especially after the events of the afternoon.
'And why the hell didn't you?! She clearly didn't have any issues with your man hands all over her!'
Ichigo was too lost in his inner musings to even flinch at his hollow's harsh truth. 'That's not,' he trailed off, not wanting to voice his thoughts to his hollow even if he'd hear them anyway. That's not how I want to kiss her for the first time, he reluctantly admitted. But if that wasn't the best time, what would be?!
'For being King, you're an awfully big pussy.'
'You-' He cut himself off before he could digress into a petty argument with his hollow, especially since his hollow was actually right for a change. He'd forgotten himself after their fight, so desperate to confirm her heart was still beating that he'd pressed so close to her throat that he'd almost kissed the pulsating of her carotid in the groove of her neck out of sheer relief. Even though he'd come to his senses just in the nick of time, able to turn his head so that his lips only brushed her skin rather than press against it, Orihime had sucked in a quiet breath, stiffening for the briefest of moments in his arms. She'd clearly felt his touch but chose not to say anything. WHY?! The answer was becoming increasingly clear, but he was still too much of a coward to truly act on it. 'You're right,' he grumbled, grudgingly admitting defeat.
By the time he'd come to the depressing realization that he was being a pansy, he'd made it home, knocking the snow off his shoes before stepping inside. Lost in his own thoughts, he kicked out of his shoes and made it halfway out of his coat before his father decided to ambush him.
"ICHIIIIIIGOOOOOO!"
Isshin's bellow was Ichigo's only warning, coming only a second before his father's knee firmly connected with his stomach. Ichigo was immediately doubled over from the force of the blow alone, his breath whooshing from his lungs with a gruff, "Oompf!" as he was flung back into the door. He hit the wood hard, the door rattling in its frame even as he attempted to catch himself. The fact that his father had timed his attack with the removal of his coat and had his arms pinned in the sleeves, almost made him chuckle – his brief fantasy from earlier thrown violently in his face as his socks slipped in the wetness from his shoes and he suddenly found himself scrambling to even remain upright. With a quick shrug of his shoulders, he was free of his coat, letting it fall to the floor behind him, his father's fist flying towards his chest next.
"What's this?! Did I catch you unawares?" Isshin's voice was deceivingly curious, betraying nothing of the force behind his punch.
"What the hell, Old Man?!" Ichigo bellowed, catching his father's fist with an arm thrust across his chest and deflecting it. He managed to use this momentum to his advantage and regain his feet, swiping a leg under his father's legs at the same instant. When Isshin lost his balance, Ichigo flung the same arm he'd used to deflect his father's punch up, twisting just at the elbow so he caught his father with a backhanded punch in the side of the face. Even with minimal movement on his part, it sent his father flying into the wall Ichigo had braced himself on only a moment before when taking his shoes off.
"There he is!" Isshin cheered, rubbing his reddened face as he shoved himself back upright. There was a dent in the wall from where he'd caught himself – not an uncommon occurrence in the Kurosaki household. Disregarding the damaged drywall as though it didn't exist, Isshin's eyes were dark with concern when he eyed his son, the troubled look not gone from his features even though irritation was now more prominent. "I haven't caught you off guard like that in a long time." The teasing was gone from his voice now, his brows furrowed in a very similar way to his son's characteristic scowl. "What happened?"
Against his better judgement, Ichigo opened his mouth as though to answer, closed it, and then opened it again. "Inoue was hurt today." His explanation was short and to the point, but the tone of his voice said the rest of the story, and Isshin's frown immediately fell as he took a step forward to clasp his son's shoulder.
"But she's fine, Son."
Ichigo couldn't meet his father's eyes, choosing to glare at the floor between their feet instead. "It shouldn't have happened in the first place."
Squeezing his shoulder, Isshin knew better than to wait for Ichigo to look up at him. He wouldn't, not when he was like this. "But it did. Nothing can change that now." His voice grew wistful and distant when he added, "You can't protect her from everything."
Peering up at his father, Ichigo could see he was no longer strictly speaking about Orihime. His eyes had grown distant, just like his voice, as he recalled moments from the past. He was speaking from experience – he was speaking about his mother. "I know that," he mumbled, waiting for his dad to come back to the present.
Shaking himself from his memories, Isshin released his son's shoulder and took a step back. "From what I heard, it's a good thing she was with you in the first place. It's important to her she's included. It would have been far worse had you left her behind, am I right?"
He wasn't talking strictly about the hollow attack anymore. His father could sometimes seem like he was speaking in riddles, but Ichigo found it easy to understand what he was referring to this time. True, he would have been more injured himself without her help, but what would have suffered the most was their friendship – or should he just call it relationship at this point? "Right," he murmured, lowering his eyes once more.
It wasn't like Ichigo to be so quiet, practically submissive with how much he kept averting his eyes. Isshin found it unsettling, just as much as he found it endearing. Inoue had clearly gotten under his skin, and a lot by the looks of things. To keep Ichigo from seeing his smile, he turned and headed towards the kitchen. "You're just in time! Come eat with us!"
Ichigo didn't realize he was hungry until his father mentioned food, and quickly hurried after him, the melancholy from a moment before sliding off his shoulders as he looked at his father suspiciously from the corner of his eye. "Wait. How'd you know about the hollow attack already?"
His eyes dancing mischievously, Isshin carefully dodged Ichigo's attempt to grab him and ran into the kitchen as though he was running from a brother rather than his own son. "I can't divulge my sources!"
"Damn it, Hat-n-Clogs," Ichigo grumbled, still smiling when he rounded the corner to the kitchen and found his sisters setting the table.
Across town, Urahara was batting his fan against his chin, several cups of sake into a drinking contest with Renji, and sneezed, scarcely managing to cover it with his fan, earning him a distrustful glance from Renji before he carefully scooted away.
"Ichigo!" Yuzu beamed, putting down the final plate in her hand before running to embrace her big brother.
Karin turned around from pulling down glasses and beamed at him, her smile rueful. "It's 'bout time you got home." She cocked her head to the side, raising an eyebrow in a manner most like their father. "Spending time with Inoue-san?"
Ichigo's face immediately warmed and he ground his teeth in order to stop it. "Can it," he rumbled, slipping from Yuzu's embrace to muss Karin's hair.
To his dismay, the questions didn't end there; the ever-innocent Yuzu joining in with, "You're going to take lots of pictures for us on Friday, right?"
His eyes wide, Ichigo turned a bewildered gaze on his blonde sister. "How did you," he started, eyes hardening and turning on his father. He had moved to stand a safe distance away, next to the poster-size image of his late wife.
Karin folded her arms across her chest as though she couldn't be bothered, but her gaze said otherwise. "You expect him to keep something like that a secret?" she snapped, her dark eyes flashing. "Seriously, Ichigo."
"Old Man!" Ichigo hollered, chocolate eyes flashing with his growing anger (although a good deal of it was also embarrassment, but he'd never admit to that) as he took a threatening step towards his father. Immediately, his sisters' arms wrapped around him in meager attempts at restraint. To placate them, he slowed his pace some, but still pulled from their grasp to throttle his father.
As soon as Ichigo and their father began fighting again, Yuzu and Karin took a step back, nostalgic smiles on their faces. They waited until each of them had gotten in at least one good hit before taking their places at the table and starting to serve the food Yuzu had taken the time to cook. "You two better eat before it gets cold," Karin insisted, her eyes reinforcing her quiet command with such force that the two men immediately stopped arguing and grudgingly took their seats. Although he wouldn't admit it, Ichigo was grateful for the return to normal as he and his father continued to exchange distrustful looks throughout the meal.
When Orihime lowered her cup only to find Rukia and Rangiku continuing to stare at her, she took a deep breath and decided to finally give them what they wanted, launching into her account of the afternoon starting with when she found Ichigo by the stairs outside the school. Although she was willing to tell them almost everything, there were some details she would not share with anyone, choosing instead to keep those quiet moments and glimpses of Ichigo's soft side to herself. Even so, she hinted towards what was said, leaving out the exact details of his relieved words after their battle, and his grieving words at her side later at Urahara's. She felt so nervous, she was on the verge of vomiting when admitting to his recollection of her saying goodbye to him before going to Hueco Mundo, something no one had any idea she'd done, not even Tatsuki. Her admission was greeted with mirrored looks of utter shock from the two Soul Reapers, until Rukia's melted into a smug smile.
"That explains it."
It was Orihime's turn to be confused, her brows furrowing as Rukia cast a knowing look at Rangiku. "Explains what?" she whispered.
"Ichigo. Right after you were taken, the head captain accused you of betraying us and he lost his shit. He kept talking about feeling your reiatsu clinging to his wrist but couldn't explain why. He knew you would never do something like that, and insisted you had to have been forced to leave against your will. If we hadn't been there to calm him down, I think he might have actually tried to fight Head Captain Yamamoto."
Orihime's heart clenched pleasantly in her chest at Rukia's words. There was a lot about the circumstances surrounding Hueco Mundo that neither of them had talked about, but the fact that he'd defended her so determinedly only reinforced why she loved him so much; why she chose to say goodbye to him and only him. That said, the fact that the others hadn't spoke up against the Head Captain hurt.
Sensing the auburn-haired healer's disquiet, Rangiku spoke up. "Many of us disagreed with what the Head Captain said," she lowered her eyes in shame. Out of all the Soul Reapers, she and Hitsugaya knew her almost better than anyone, and even so, they hadn't gone to her aid like the others had. "Kurosaki was, of course, the most adamant. We underestimated what he would have to face in order to bring you back." Her cheeks warmed in the sudden silence, and before she knew what she was doing, she was bowing low, her forehead touching the floor between her hands. "I'm so sorry, Orihime!"
Shock rippled through Orihime like a wave at Rangiku's show of humility. "Oh, please, sit up!" she cried, her hands coming up to squeeze her own cheeks. "There's nothing to apologize for!"
Reluctantly, Rangiku sat up and brushed her hair back from her face, still keeping her eyes averted. Rukia eyed her from the side before pushing a glass of sake closer to her once again. "When Ichigo sets his mind to something, there is no changing it. Don't blame yourself so much."
Orihime took a sip of her own tea before finally voicing the happiness that had taken up residence in her chest, her heart feeling far too full for her own safety. Even though she wouldn't want him to know the conversation, she found herself regretting he wasn't in their presence anymore. Then again, she'd surely hug him like a woman possessed if he were… "I never knew what happened after I left," she murmured, her eyes growing distant as the little blue men conjured images of Ichigo waking to feel his reiatsu clinging to him, realizing his wrist was healed, and arguing with the Soul Reapers, no doubt throwing more than a few fists and curses in order to get his point across. "He never lost faith in me."
Smiling, Rukia plopped another piece of pizza on Orihime's plate. The poor girl had been so busy talking she'd barely eaten. "Of course not! And I know he'd do it again in a heartbeat."
Her face suddenly erupted in flames, bright red starting clear down at her chest and rapidly making its way up to the crown of her head. In an attempt to hide her reaction, she buried her face in her hands, unable to suppress the pleasant squeal that erupted from her throat as she shook her head. "You can't just say that, Rukia-chan!"
Rukia's smile turned rueful. "Why the hell not? It's true!"
From where he sat eating dinner with his family for the first time in what felt like weeks, Ichigo felt a tickle in his nose, turning his head to the side to sneeze into his elbow. With a sniff, he looked at his plate suspiciously immediately after as though the food were to blame.
"All right!" Rangiku smacked her hands down onto the table the moment Orihime set her last piece of crust down with a content sigh, causing her to jump with the sudden smack. "The captain will be furious if he finds out we've kept you from resting." She smiled kindly at Orihime, whose surprise was quickly melting into a look of pure innocent happiness. The healer just didn't know how much they all cared for her. "Let's get you in a nice warm bath and send you to bed."
Without waiting for an answer, Rangiku stood, towering over the two still on the floor, and bent to pick up their dirty dishes. After turning Orihime into a tomato, the two Soul Reapers had decided to cut her some slack, changing the subject as they munched on pizza and sipped their tea (or sake in her case). Even as she ate, it was hard to miss the tired look entering Orihime's eyes, nor the way Rukia kept eying her with concern.
Before Orihime could move, Rukia jumped to her feet. "You get the dishes and I will start the bath," she confirmed with Rangiku before disappearing down the hallway.
"You guys!" Orihime started, her voice fading into nothing as she realized it was pointless to argue.
Moments later, Rangiku had the kitchen and living room picked up, Rukia filling the tub with steaming water mixed with luxurious lavender bubbles. The lights were dimmed, and the two candles Orihime kept in the bathroom lit, casting the room in a wavering light that immediately set her mind and heart at ease. Two fresh towels were set on the lid of the toilet, Rukia having searched for the freshest and thickest ones. When Orihime timidly stepped into the room with wide eyes, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small jar of a light pink cream. "This is from Tessai. Put it on your bruises and it will help them heal." She shrugged at Orihime's thankful but questioning gaze. "He thought of it after you'd already left."
"Thank you," Orihime breathed, plucking the small jar from Rukia's hand and clutching it to her chest. Tears pricked her eyes when she turned to look at Rangiku over her shoulder – she'd come to stop just outside the bathroom door. "Both of you. For everything," her voice wavered as the tears threatened to spill forth.
Without preamble, Rukia stepped forward and cautiously wrapped her arms around Orihime's waist. Not a moment later and Rangiku enfolded both of them in her arms, gently pulling Orihime into a hug from behind. "Don't thank us, just get plenty of rest so you can get better," the strawberry-blonde lieutenant commanded. She stepped back, Rukia releasing her hold at the same time as she smiled. "We'll see you tomorrow."
Making her way past Orihime and to the bathroom door, Rukia turned to grin at Orihime. "Good night, Orihime."
Before she could respond, the two Soul Reapers disappeared from Orihime's sight, and a moment later she heard the front door close, the turn of the lock just seconds later. Suddenly confronted with the imposing silence left in their wake, Orihime gripped the counter at her side before sinking, all but collapsing onto the toilet lid. It had been a whirlwind of an afternoon, that quickly continued into the evening, and suddenly she felt tired. So tired. But first, the bathtub was calling her name.
Hours passed, evening turning into night as Ichigo emerged fresh from a long, hot shower; his hair still wet. With a sigh, he padded over to his desk and pulled his books from his bag. It was about time he caught up on the homework he'd neglected for far too long. Taking a seat, he found it odd to be doing his homework alone, studying by himself in the quiet confines of his room, as opposed to what had been becoming habitual – studying with Orihime. As soon as her name entered his mind, he was lost to his work, images of her flashing through his eye. He couldn't deny that he was worried about her, but also simply curious what she was up to. Sure, Rukia and Rangiku were supposed to have visited her, but he hadn't heard anything from any of them, and although he could try and say it was his protective instincts taking over, he couldn't help but ponder the reason behind the silence. He wanted to text her, the ease of their conversations no longer making him feel nervous about doing so, but she was supposed to be resting. What if she was already asleep? He couldn't risk disturbing her. His phone vibrating on the desk beside him saved him from the internal battle over whether or not to just text the auburn-haired healer already.
Unlocking his phone to view the message, Ichigo couldn't help but sigh in disappointment at the sender. It was Rukia. "Rangiku and I are just leaving Orihime's. She's doing fine."
Scowling, Ichigo nevertheless quickly typed out a reply. "Thanks."
There was a long pause between messages, Ichigo flipping his phone back over to return to his work before it went off again. "You know, she's really lucky to have you." Ichigo stared at the words with his mouth agape in surprise, his eyes wide as the screen reflected in their depths. A moment later and another message followed. "Just as much as you're lucky to have her."
"What the hell?" he breathed, not at all sure what Rukia was trying to get at. What exactly had the girls talked about?! How was he supposed to respond to that?! He sat, uncertainty taking root deep within his chest, for long enough that Rukia messaged him again.
"Did you mean it when you said you were trying not to screw this up?"
There was no hesitation in his response. Rukia already knew how he felt, he'd all but admitted it to her, and Renji too. "Of course I did."
A grinning smiley face was her immediate reply, quickly followed by a thumbs-up and, "Then you have my full support."
Ichigo frowned at his phone, not at all sure how to take Rukia's words or why she would suddenly start saying such mushy things. He'd barely been able to talk to her about Orihime asking him to the dance, and yet she'd seen through him so clearly. "Um, thanks? I guess?" he finally replied, allowing his confusion to show for once.
"Oh, you're confused! How cute!"
"Shut the fuck up."
"There you are!" He could all but hear her laughter before she messaged again. "How are you, by the way? We were all so focused on Orihime, I didn't bother to ask how you were doing. That was a lot of hollows. Weird hollows."
He snorted, having also been too focused on Orihime to notice. "I'm fine." In order to get the attention off of him, he turned the conversation back on her. "Are you coming home, tonight? There's leftovers in the fridge." It no longer seemed weird to call his home her home.
There was a long pause, Ichigo about to return to his homework before Rukia replied. "I'm heading over to Urahara's for a while. I don't know when I'll be back."
Ichigo let out a quiet sigh at her words. It was becoming Rukia's routine to spend more time at Urahara's, and although he really didn't mind (in fact, sometimes it was downright preferred), he couldn't stop the jolt of jealousy that shot through him. Renji and Rukia had always been close, he'd known that, but as soon as she invited him to the dance, their relationship had taken a drastic turn. Obviously, it was a change for the better, he'd never seen the two of them happier, but the change between them had only driven home his own failings that much more. Rather than answer her, Ichigo set his lips into a firm line, making a vow to himself that he'd never share out loud, clenching his hands into determined fists as his hollow chuckled dryly in the back of his mind. I can't keep this up anymore. I don't want to. I'll do it! At the dance. I swear I will!
Even though he said nothing, the glowing approval from his hollow was clear, and Ichigo was able to return to his homework with a newfound gusto.
As Orihime soaked in the tub, she could feel the pain and tension oozing from her sore muscles. Rukia had thoughtfully added Epsom salt to the bath, only increasing its benefit to her abused body. Sinking further down into the water, she couldn't help but smile at the thoughtfulness of her friends, her heart light. Not for the first time, she thought about texting Ichigo, unable to get him out of her thoughts. Despite her nervousness, it had been good for her to discuss what happened before Hueco Mundo with the others. Even though Tatsuki knew some of the details, it was a relief to get the events out in the open. A huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders, even more so than confessing what she'd said to Ichigo (even though she hadn't told any of them the complete truth). Hearing how Ichigo had reacted upon discovering her disappearance had lit her very soul on fire. How come he never said anything? She couldn't help but wonder, but then immediately discovered the answer. Knowing that some of the others had doubted her still stung, and he'd never say something that he knew would hurt her. Accidentally was another story since he didn't always think before opening his mouth, nor did he always understand the repercussions of his words, but never on purpose. Unbidden, her mind returned to the day she'd asked him to the dance, and how she'd nearly lost all hope of asking him at lunch. He'd had no idea what she had been thinking, and once he realized how she'd been afraid to ask him because of it, he'd clearly been upset with himself.
Of course I'll go with you, Inoue.
The words repeated themselves within her mind, ringing with the rich timbre of Ichigo's voice. Like a phantom, she felt his touch on her wrist, the way he'd unconsciously rubbed his thumb along the sensitive nerves and tendons just beneath the skin. She'd panicked and asked to go as his friend, but the more she thought back on it, he'd also thrown out they were going as friends as though it were an after-thought, well after his dare she say impassioned response.
Feeling butterflies take flight in her belly, Orihime grabbed her phone from where it rested on the back of the toilet, immediately falling back to rest against the back of the tub once more. Her hair was up, twisted into a messy bun high on the top of her head in order to keep it dry, but wet tendrils still clung to her neck as she braced herself against the tub with one foot, her toes just barely sticking out of the mountains of bubbles that still surrounded her. Her phone had been silent ever since Rangiku messaged her earlier, and she tried not to let that fact bother her. It wasn't like he was obligated to message her by any means!
"Kurosaki-kun, did you make it home all right?" She chose the safest route in conversation and immediately bit the inside of her cheek in annoyance. "Of course he made it home, Dummy!" she yelled into her empty apartment.
Moments ticked by without a reply, and Orihime found herself growing disappointed. Worry gripped her too, but she knew the worry was unfounded. "He's probably already asleep," she mumbled to herself, about to return her phone to its resting place, safely away from the bathwaters when her notification tone rang out, startling her so much she nearly dropped her phone.
"It was fine until I walked in the door," came his sudden reply. "My Old Man managed to get a good hit on me."
Not used to the violence that often permeated the Kurosaki household, Orihime gasped. "WHAT?!"
"Relax. He always jumps me. I just usually don't get hit."
Even though her brows were lowered with concern, Orihime chose to take a lighter path, following the trend they had been following all day. "I told you, you got hit on the head too hard." Almost as an afterthought, she added a winking smiley face that had its tongue sticking out.
Ichigo chuckled at her reply, knowing full well she was concerned and just not showing it. How had they become so close that he could predict the face she was probably making? Rather than dwell on it, he fed into her mockery, easily falling back into their banter from earlier. "So hard I don't even remember getting hit." His smile fell some, needing to reassure himself of her well-being even though it derailed their flirting. "How are you?" he asked a moment later.
Orihime sighed at his second message, her heart jumping pleasantly within her chest. "Fine. Rangiku and Rukia set up a wonderful bath for me." She almost hit send, before she read what she was about to divulge and gasped, quickly erasing the words before she could accidentally send them. There was no way she could let him know she was texting him while naked in the bath! The little blue men intruded then, bringing her mind back to earlier in the afternoon. Or could she? She'd already been talking about taking his clothes off earlier! How would this be any different? Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she stared at the blinking cursor on her screen, suddenly not sure what to say. With a resigned huff, she settled for, "Fine."
Her short reply after more than a moment's pause set Ichigo's face into a frown as he closed his books and resigned himself to being over studying for the night. Instead, he flopped onto his bed, his eyes glued to the glowing screen of his phone as he debated what to say. Such a succinct reply was not Orihime's style – it was his – so what was she not telling him? Before he could think of what to ask her, she asked him a question. "How are you, Kurosaki-kun? No one treated your injuries."
Looking down at his arms, Ichigo couldn't suppress the quiet gasp that left him. Although he managed to avoid any serious injuries, he'd gotten a few cuts and scrapes – nothing out of the ordinary; but his sleeves should have hidden his injuries, so how did she know? Shaking his head, he quickly typed out his reply. "I'm fine, Inoue. No one needed to treat me." Inwardly, he admitted that he would have let her treat him though, if she'd have asked. A crooked smirk made its way across his lips when he boldly decided to add, "Besides, no one can heal me quite like you can."
"What?!" Orihime shrieked upon reading his response, scrambling to catch her phone as it slipped through her fingers and almost landed in the bubbly water. Heat rose to her cheeks at his implication, but she was pleased, nonetheless. It made her question not telling him about the bath, the little blue men encouraging her to be bold and daring for a change, but she quickly silenced them, her cheeks growing even warmer at the thought of divulging something so intimate. Instead she answered with, "You should have just said so."
Where the hell am I going with this? Ichigo mused, his brow furrowing as he stared at their conversation. He was comfortable texting her now, but that didn't mean he had any idea what he was doing when it came to trying to flirt with her. "When Tessai told you to rest? I'd rather not fight that man."
He could all but hear Orihime's quiet giggle on the other line, oblivious to the fact that she was finally pulling the plug on her bath and getting ready to get out of the tub. "Ah, come on, Kurosaki-kun. Does Tessai really scare you that much?" She hesitated a moment before adding, "I thought you weren't afraid of anything."
"You have no idea," he breathed into the stillness of his room. He was plenty afraid – afraid of losing her, of screwing up, of the possibility of her not loving him the way he loved her… "I was today," he cautiously replied, his fingers nearly shaking as he hit the send button. He wasn't used to showing his vulnerabilities, and even though it felt right to show her, like if anyone should know, it was her, it was still strange how naked it made him feel. Wishing he could unsend his message, he dropped his face into his pillow and groaned. "Idiot!"
Orihime looked at Ichigo's message with a furrowed brow. "What?" she whispered, wrapping herself in a plush towel. She had no idea how to reply to that, and suddenly she wished he were there with her, so she could comfort him, his words striking a chord in her that made her want to hold him to her tightly and never let go. She saw him as they battled the hollows, the frantic way he'd come to her aid, only drawing on his Bankai and Hollow when she had been in danger. Then again, as he'd humbly knelt at her side at Urahara's, blaming himself for her injuries. He'd been so shaken over her getting hurt, dropping all guard when pulling her tightly against him. Although it wasn't the first time he'd pulled her so close, it had been the first time she'd truly felt the depths of his emotions – that he'd ever truly given them voice – and she couldn't help but feel a little proud of the fact that he was showing them to her, that he trusted her enough to bare his soul. Kami, I love him…
The silence between them stretched on, Ichigo picturing Orihime's surprised expression at his words nearly exactly. Why did he say that? What the hell was he doing? And most importantly, why hadn't she said anything?! Picking his head up from his pillow, Ichigo sighed and attempted to change the subject – it seemed the safest thing to do. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"
Still leaning against her bathroom counter wrapped in a towel, Orihime pursed her lips to the side. Clearly, he regretted saying what he did, but she didn't know how to comfort him. She'd taken too long to say anything… "I'm getting there," she replied, deciding it safest to move on as he did.
"You sure you'll be up for class tomorrow?"
The corner of Orihime's lips pulled up into a soft smile, already looking forward to seeing him in the morning even though they'd only recently parted. "You bet!"
He smiled, darkness still lurking in his eyes at revealing something so personal. They'd recovered, but why'd he have to go and make things awkward? Fuck! "Then I'll see you in the morning?"
Her smile turning full and bright, Orihime clutched her phone to her chest happily a moment, humming in delight before typing out, "If you can remember where I live."
"Haha. I'll try my best to find it."
Still beaming at her phone, Orihime turned to head towards her bedroom and actually get ready for bed. She now had a good reason to hurry up and sleep, the prospect of seeing Ichigo again in the morning the perfect motivation. "Good night, Kurosaki-kun."
Rolling onto his back, Ichigo quickly replied, "Good night, Inoue," and dropped his phone face down on his chest, throwing his newly freed arm over his eyes. He suddenly couldn't wait for morning.
The remaining days before the dance passed in a slow blur, the girls just as excited for the event as they were anxious. The school was abuzz, girls pining over guys while also swearing that they didn't need a date and would just go with their friends; and guys desperately wanting to be asked while simultaneously trying to appear like they didn't care. Students were constantly in motion, darting to and fro as dates were sought and arranged. The school itself was slowly transforming, heart decorations and crepe paper hanging from the ceilings to add to the festivities. Pink, red, and white could be seen everywhere, both as advertisements for the coming dance and as decorations – secured to walls, lockers, and doors indiscriminately. As the week went on, tensions rose amongst the students, those without dates searching for them while also not wanting to appear over eager.
For the most part, Ichigo and Orihime settled back into what was becoming their new normal routine. He picked her up in the morning and they walked to school together, and then he walked her home. Most of the time they were alone, but sometimes Tatsuki or Rukia joined them, along with occasionally Renj, Rangiku, and Hitsugaya. To say Ichigo found the lack of privacy with the auburn-haired healer irritating would be an understatement. He'd had her to himself and gotten a taste of that bliss only to have it practically snatched away. Added to that frustration was the increase in hollow activity. Whether it was because of the mix up by Squad Twelve or the simple presence of more Soul Reapers, he didn't know. Either way, after Orihime's injury just a few days prior, he was seriously considering personally threatening Captain Kurotsuchi's well-being if he didn't fix the error – and soon.
A thick fog made its way into town on Thursday, blanketing the town in muffled silence; a stillness that was both calming and eerie as the moisture in the air clung to exposed skin like frozen rain. While it didn't snow, the world appeared a shade of white, the only variant a bit of gray in darker places. The sun could not be seen through the thick layer of clouds, nor the moon when it finally rose; but the fog somehow both amplified and dimmed the surrounding light, making the night appear lighter than usual. It was both unnerving and reassuring.
When the moon did show itself, it was a sharp crescent in the sky, cutting a crisp image that was hauntingly familiar. It almost looked like the beginnings of an eclipse; the rounded darkness so pristinely perfect that it was like the lit portion of the moon was engulfing it. It was just as beautiful as it was terrifying, a stark reminder of the moon in Hueco Mundo, floating above the wastelands day and night. As Orihime looked up at the suddenly ominous celestial body, a shiver rippled down her spine and she pulled the curtains shut tight, closing her eyes in an attempt to block out the image. Only the imprint was strong behind her eyelids and she saw Hueco Mundo's moon, even with her eyes shut.
Opening her eyes once more, she turned and made her way to her room. It was late, but she found the idea of sleep difficult. Not only was the weather partially to blame, but her nerves were so finely set on edge, she felt like she might scream. Tatsuki, Rukia, and Rangiku had walked her home from school today, all but kidnapping her in their insistence of keeping her away from Ichigo. He'd started after them, until Tatsuki kicked him so hard in the head that he'd faceplanted, hard. She'd wanted to go to him even more after that, even though the image of him sitting on the ground rubbing his head had been enough to make her giggle. Rukia's sharp, "It's for his own good that he doesn't come," whisper in her ear as they spirited her away.
The reason for their excitement had been revealed the moment they closed the door to Orihime's apartment, Rangiku pulling out packages of ingredients with a wide smile. "Time to get cooking!" she'd cheered, her light eyes dancing.
"What are you talking about?" Tatsuki had been the one to ask, skeptical.
"Don't you know what the tradition is for Valentine's Day?" Rangiku questioned, her eyes wide.
Orihime racked her brain, fighting off the tangential thoughts of dates, kissing, hugging, and holding hands, until it hit her. "Chocolate!" she all but shrieked, bouncing onto her toes.
Rangiku pointed one perfectly manicured nail at the auburn-haired healer. "Correct! We can't forget this little tradition, even with the dance, especially since it actually falls on Valentine's Day!"
"We're making the guys chocolate?" Tatsuki questioned, one eyebrow raised as she folded her arms across her chest. "Are you serious?"
"When do we have time to do it otherwise?" Rukia interjected, stepping forward to take one of the bags of paraphernalia from Rangiku to set on Orihime's table.
Her usual food combinations coming to mind, Orihime bit her lower lip as she shook her head. "I can't," she whispered. "No one likes my cooking."
Rukia turned and squeezed her arm in reassurance, only slightly surprised that the healer had caught on to their aversion to her food. "Don't sell yourself short, Orihime. Ichigo will like it just fine." She smiled, beaming in the kitchen – something very uncharacteristic for the tiny Shinigami. "We'll help you!"
And just like that, the four of them had gotten to work. While only three of them planned on giving chocolates, something that set Orihime's stomach into nervous knots, Rangiku was there to "taste test" and help, offering encouragement and guidance wherever it was needed. Apparently, the Valentine's Day and White Day traditions were carried out in the Soul Society as well, so she knew a thing or two about making chocolate, even creating perfect little shapes. She helped Orihime craft some of her chocolates into little hearts, the implications behind such design causing her cheeks to burn, but suddenly the idea of giving them to Ichigo seemed much less scary than before. It was when Rangiku moved to help the others that she grew braver, taking her time to discreetly create a few intricate designs that were sure to surprise him. I hope he doesn't think this is weird… Oh no! Am I a stalker?! She internally panicked a moment later, fighting down the urge to throw the chocolates out in a fit of anxiety.
Tatsuki refused any shapes other than round or square, her face virtually on fire when Rangiku attempted to convince her to create some hearts, while Rukia crafted any and every shape she could, even managing a few rough Chappies. It had been nearly dark before they'd finished, the four taking time to gush over the coming dance and squeal like children over their cooling chocolates. Rukia was the one to bump Orihime on the shoulder, finding the ones she'd attempted to secret away.
"Orihime! I didn't know you were so artistic!"
Covering her warm cheeks with her hands, Orihime quickly shook her head side-to-side. "No, I'm not! I just wanted to try something more… personal."
Rangiku and Tatsuki came over at her words, and Orihime buried her face in her hands, hiding her eyes at their surprised gasps. "Holy shit," Rangiku breathed, squeezing her shoulder. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had him here for inspiration."
Tatsuki was the one who was silent, her head cocked to the side as she carefully assessed the chocolates before her. While most of Orihime's were round, square, or in the shape of a heart, she'd made a few into Ichigo's Hollow mask, something she'd never seen. Two were shaped like Zangetsu – both in Shikai and Bankai, something else she'd never seen. Although envy tugged at her heart, she couldn't help but smile at the importance behind such a small gesture. "He's going to be speechless," she murmured, her smile easy and true.
A smile finally reaching her features, Orihime grinned, her cheeks still pink. "I don't know where the idea came from," she admitted.
"Stupid," Rukia chastised, immediately smiling when Tatsuki threatened violence. "It's because you're in love with him. Just admit it already!"
"Rukia-chan!" Orihime shrieked, immediately chasing after the tiny Shinigami as she easily evaded her. The quartet devolved into a fit of giggles for several minutes before the other three took their leave, safely seeing the chocolates into the fridge to preserve them until the designated time.
Smiling to herself at the memory, Orihime's eyes darted to her fridge before she went to bed, the excitement of the afternoon banishing ill thoughts for the time being. "I can't believe the dance is tomorrow," she whispered aloud to no one, butterflies taking up nervous residence in her stomach and fluttering her heart. Rangiku and Hitsugaya had taken to staying at Urahara's more frequently of late, and while she did miss their company, she was also thankful for the extra space, as she knew Ichigo would not be so liberal with his visits if they were there. Just thinking about him made her smile, and although she wanted to text him, she stopped herself. It was already late, and he might be sleeping – she didn't want to risk waking him up when his sleep was already so often disturbed thanks to Hollows. That said, seeing him after making such personal chocolates, and with the dance just around the corner, she wasn't sure she could stand to meet his eyes without him seeing right through her…
"No, it's better this way," she murmured, slipping under her covers and sighing in content. Even though she was sure it would be difficult to sleep, sleep tugged her down into its alluring abyss within moments.
A/N: There you have it! We're almost there! I hope you enjoyed, I wrote the ending to this very late at night (or early in the morning depending on how you want to look at it), so hopefully I didn't mess it up! Your reviews and comments mean the world to me and thank you for reading! As always, I unfortunately do not own Bleach or any of the characters – Tite Kubo does.
