"There are a lot of things I wanted to do. I wanted to become a teacher and an astronaut, and a baker… I wanted to go to a bunch of different donut shopsand ask for one of everything!And I wanted to tell the ice-cream manto give me one of everything, too!
"I wish I could have five lives!Then I could have been born in five different town and eaten five lifetime's worth of foodand had five different careers and…fallen in love with the same person five times…"
Orihime's birthday, September 3, would always, always be her favorite day of the year. She knew that like she knew the back of her hand; like she knew the answers to a test.
It was a gut feeling. She believed it brought the best type of heat the end of summer could offer, and when it rained, it brought the perfect kind of rainfall. Sometimes she wished the day could just be a holiday like Coming of Age Day except better than Coming of Age Day because she wouldn't have to wait to celebrate it only once in her lifetime.
This year was going to be the most important year. Orihime was turning 18. She wouldn't be an adult yet, but the American movies made 18 sound and feel better than turning 20. Better than anything she could imagine. She was shedding the childish things that held her back; she would be smarter in a way that went beyond her university classes; and she would be wiser, too.
And, more important than all of those other things, braver.
Brave enough to ask…
…To ask Kurosaki-kun…
If he—if they—could—
"Orihime? Orrr-iii-heee-mayyy?" Tatsuki-chan's hand waving mere inches from her face brought her out of her reprieve. Suddenly all sounds of the patisserie came flooding back: the quiet chatter of the other patrons; the sounds of products being rang up and coffee and tea being made with those crazy machines; the little bell that chimed with every entry and exit; the faint sound of jazz from the speakers above head. "C'mon. You get the last bite." The other girl gestured to the crème brule still in its foil tin. It had been a particularly cute dessert garnished with a yellow raspberry, a blueberry and a blackberry, but now all that was left were cracked pieces of the caramelized sugar and about a spoonful of custard.
"Or," Tatsuki-chan said, "do you want someone to eat it for you? First, most or last bite?"
This had been her birthday wish: to gather with friends from high school, the ones she missed now more than ever, and eat every sweet from the high-priced French-style patisserie she had noticed on her way to classes since starting university in April. She had barely seen Tatsuki-chan since her own birthday—a phone call here, a Skype session there—but her best friend had gone above and beyond. She had invited everyone: Keigo-kun, Mizuiro-kun, Ishida-kun, Yasutora-kun… Even Kuchiki-san…
And Kurosaki-kun…
And here they all were, sharing the same desserts with Orihime who, as Birthday Girl, had the special privilege of having the first bite, the most bites if she wanted, and, if something was too good, the very last bite.
She stared at all of their faces noting how different everyone was from the last time they spent time together: Keigo-kun was growing hair on his chin and Ishida-kun had changed the frame of his glasses. Even Yasutora-kun had added rose tattoos to the heart on his shoulder.
Her hands clenched the hem of her skirt; the one she had bought that barely hit her mid-thigh. It was so different from the types of skirts she usually wore. Even now, she wondered why she had bought it: to stand out?
To show how much she had changed?
To impress everyone?
Or just to impress…?
She mustered up a smile, "U-um, it was pretty good, but I don't think I can eat it all."
"Alright, then—Ichigo!" Tatsuki-chan pointed to Orihime's right side where Kurosaki-kun sat. As tall as he was and as short as the bench was, his body was practically curled up against the side of the table. "Take the bite for Orihime."
He looked as handsome as she remembered him, and he wore a green shirt that set off the colors of his hair. It had been hard for Orihime to look over at him because she had felt if she did, the thing that she wanted to ask him would come tumbling out her mouth where everyone could hear her. She swallowed, waiting for a better time to take that chance.
His neutral expression quickly changed into something that was much more annoyed. "What."
"Take the bite. That's the game."
"I know that's the game, but I don't want to."
"You have to. That's the rule: if Orihime doesn't want the last bite, someone has to eat it for her. And you're taking her last bite."
Still scowling, Kurosaki-kun's arm reached toward Orihime's side of the table and he pushed the plate towards the center of the table where about three or four plates were stacked in a neat pile, evidence of their last dessert tastings. "I said I'd do it if it was chocolate, but there's no chocolate in that. It's way too sweet. Plus, the caramel stuck to my back tooth."
"Since when have you been scared of caramel, Mr. Big-Time Shinigami?" Tatsuki quipped. "You can fight things that go bump in the night, but can't handle a little sugar?"
"You wouldn't want to go to the dentist in Soul Society. Not now that the Eleventh Division took over dentistry." Ichigo murmured.
There were names and places he said Orihime would never understand, but Tatsuki-chan did. Tatsuki-chan knew all the secret things Orihime didn't. That was probably why she was unfazed at his reply. "Are you saying you're suddenly scared of the Eleventh Division, Strawberry Head? Are they making you pay off the damages from the last time you broke everything?" She taunted.
"No, I don't have to pay for damages—Lantern Head," Kurosaki-kun retaliated, taking a jab at Tatsuki-chan's blonde pixie cut.
Ishida-kun rolled his eyes at the back and forth. Keigo-kun and Mizuiro-kun, who had been taking photos of each moment for Facebook, snickered. She caught Yasutora-kun's murmur—"Just like always"—and for a moment, she imagined being the 18-year-old she had imagined herself to be: coolly conceding, taking the last bite, and basking in the glow of Kurosaki-kun's impressed expression.
But before she could save the day, Kuchiki-chan's hand rose like a student back in homeroom: "I'll eat it for you if you like, Inoue-san."
"Um…okay. Thank you, Kuchiki-san."
The snickering from Keigo-kun and Mizuiro-kun turned into a low hum of oooh.
Ishida-san slid his glasses up his nose, but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips.
Same went for Yasutora-kun.
Even Tatsuki-chan applauded.
Kurosaki-kun quieted as he gently slid the plate towards her.
Everyone else may have been watching Kuchiki-chan savor the bite, but Orihime was watching Kurosaki-kun. The way his hand cradled his head as he turned towards her; the way his eyes rolled good-naturedly as she cupped her free hand to catch whatever crumbs would fall on the way from the plate to her mouth (none did); the way they focused on the prongs of her fork pressing against her tongue; and the way he blinked only after she gave a smile to the table.
"Thank you, Kuchiki-san," Orihime said, meaning it and every other word she had said to the petite girl that day: the praise about her purple dress; the pretty bag that held her gift; and her words of thanks for having been invited.
Kuchiki-san smiled. "Of course." The smaller girl's glance directed itself towards Kurosaki-kun and her smile changed into something a bit smug. "It was no problem for an expert Shinigami."
Cheers and laughter arose from Tatsuki-chan, Keigo-kun and Mizuiro-kun before the next treat came around. This time it was a sponge cake with orange marmalade filling and cream cheese.
She was probably the only person that heard Kurosaki-kun murmur to Kuchiki-san, "Just be careful of getting that stuff on your dress," and saw the way his finger lightly grazed the dress' ruffled sleeve.
"You worry too much." Kuchiki-san rolled her eyes like she was used to him pointing out the ways she needed to be careful. It made Orihime's stomach knot to realize that he probably did do that now that Kurosaki-kun lived in the world Kuchiki-san did and did the same things she did and was the same as her.
A protector.
A hero.
A Shinigami.
If only she could be as brave as Kuchiki-san had been just now.
Or, at least, be brave enough to ask him what she wanted to ask him…
. .
Kuchiki Rukia just appeared out of nowhere one day in the middle of second year at Kurakara, and everyone had noticed right away that she and Kurosaki-kun were close.
Most of the girls she knew thought Kurosaki-kun was cute—or, at least, they saw the hair and the cool-guy expression on his face. But Orihime knew that for them, liking someone who came across so tough was like a rebellious thing. And because of that, she couldn't say for sure if they saw and liked the things she saw and liked: that his hair wasn't really orange per se, but almost a coppery color. That a lot of the shirts he wore underneath his uniform had the number "15" on them. That there was that one week during lunch he re-read A Midsummer's Night Dream even after their test on Shakespeare. (That he had earned high marks on the test itself.) That he probably would look cool in a suit, like Toshiro Mifune.
What's more, Kurosaki-kun himself wasn't known for hanging out with other girls. Tatsuki-chan was the exception more often than not, but everybody knew they were old friends.
And yet, there they were: Kurosaki-kun and the mysterious and pretty new student, Kuchiki-san.
Rumors arose fairly quickly, the kind that had made her watch after them sneakily and suspiciously. But for all her looking, the only thing she noticed was that they called each other by their first names like it was the most natural way they could address each other.
She hadn't really noticed the other weird things happening around Kurosaki-kun.
—Well, actually?
Okay. She had noticed the two of them running out of class at random times, and somebody had mentioned seeing them hanging around the park together with tennis balls and a kendo stick, but she hadn't gotten the impression they were making out like in the rumor Mizuiro-kun had made up. And sometimes they would stand really close together, talking in hushed voices before Kuchiki-san suddenly smacked Kurosaki-kun square in the forehead. (Which was scariest of all because he'd just slump over and not get up until hours later.)
They had both even showed up in a dream of hers one time, a dream where she and Tatsuki-chan had had chains coming out of their chests and they—Kurosaki-kun and Kuchiki-san—wore black robes and fought a monster with a mask…a dream where Kurosaki-kun had a big sword in his hand…
But there were still more things that Tatsuki-chan noticed that she herself hadn't:
"Yeah, Kuchiki-chan sounded completely different than she does in class. Like, really serious—like a character in a horror story. And she kept saying, 'hollow,' 'hollow.'"
"How haven't you seen it?! I swear: it's like a glove with a flaming skull on it. Like a motorcycle glove, but that would be crazy. Kuchiki-chan doesn't look like she would own a motorcycle. A moped maybe."
"Just now. Before Ichigo jumped out of the window… Did he look a little strange to you? Like, it was him, but it wasn't him?"
No, Inoue hadn't really noticed those things.
It wasn't until that one afternoon, the afternoon she and Tatsuki-chan were attacked by those boys in the school courtyard, that she realized that Kurosaki-kun really was different. And not just him: Tatsuki-chan, Kurosaki-kun's friend Sado-kun, and the boy from Sewing Club—Ishida-kun—were also different somehow. Like they all lived in a world that overlapped with the real world and could hear things and see things off in the distance that she couldn't.
Orihime couldn't figure it out; she only knew that it had something to do with Kurosaki-kun and Kuchiki-san being together. After all, Kuchiki-san had gotten so close to Kurosaki-kun; they fit so well with one another; and he was almost always looking at her Kuchiki-san.
And Kuchiki-san was everything Orihime wasn't. Mature and pretty. And graceful. And strong. Like she had never tripped over her own two feet in her life. Everything she said and how she said it made Orihime feel like Kurosaki-kun thought Kuchiki-san was special.
And then, one day, she was gone.
. .
Inoue watched Kurosaki-kun as he watched Kuchiki-chan help clean the strawberry juice stain from Keigo-kun's shirt.
"Kuchiki-chan~!" Keigo gushed. "Thank you. Even with my discount from the store, this was pretty expensive." He had been regaling everyone with the story of its purchase (an "exclusive Uniqlo collaboration with K.T., this awesome big-time graphic designer that does all this next-level shit") before the piece of Neapolitan cake he had been eating fell from his fork.
Kuchiki-san swiped at the print with her dampened napkin a few more times, clearing up the dollop of melted whip cream that had landed on his chest. "It's no problem." She blew on it softly.
"Ahhh~! Ku~chi~ki-chan! You are a true goddess."
"Oi, you don't have to go that far!" Kurosaki-kun said, not to the goddess comment but her blowing on his shirt. "Let the air dry it out like normal."
"I'm just being thorough."
"Yeah, but don't worry, Kuchiki-chan," Muzuiro-kun said as he turned off his phone, getting the footage he wanted for later. "Keigo's just clumsy like that."
"Exactly."
"Hey, Ichigo," Keigo-kun suddenly griped. "Don't be a jerk! Just because Kuchiki-chan probably kisses your boo-boos all the time doesn't mean you can keep them for yourself."
"'Boo-boos?'" Ishida-kun scoffed. "Well, considering you couldn't handle this particular dessert like an adult, it makes sense that you would call it that."
"HEY! I only accept insults from Ichigo!"
"So, you get insults from everybody you know now? That's good to know."
Inoue giggled quietly despite herself and heard Kurosaki-kun's laughter come from her right. Hearing his low laughter made butterflies erupt in her stomach. They spurred her to find the bravery she had desperately wished to have to ask him, to just ask Kurosaki-kun…
. .
But not just gone. Gone, gone—like she had ceased to completely exist. And that wasn't just true for Orihime, but for everyone else. Tatsuki-chan had mentioned her once—"What happened to Kuchiki?" during lunch one day—but no one else in their lunch group, not even Orihime herself, remembered her.
What she had known for sure was Kurosaki-kun was still different even after their phantom classmate had disappeared. But instead of him doing all the things he had done before, he seemed to just…slow down. It was like he had sunk into quicksand but wasn't sure how to pull himself out.
She had asked him to come on Keigo's beach trip, but he declined. He was going on a trip, but the look on his face made it seem it was more important than a day at the beach or an internship.
And then, Kurosaki-kun was also gone. But not just him—Sado-kun and Ishida-kun were gone, too. And Tatsuki-chan, too.
It had only been a month, an entire summer's vacation, but when they came back Orihime saw that he had changed again. Like, physically: he was a bit taller and broader. But also, he was back to normal. Happy, even.
It wouldn't last.
Without her knowing exactly when, his face changed to something worse than regular sadness. It was the kind of sadness that made bags appear under his eyes and created a stressful air around him.
And he would keep looking like that until Kuchiki-san came back.
She wouldn't know it was Kuchiki-san exactly. She would just be in the classroom during lunch and watch a bunch of people who looked way too old to be highschoolers hanging around Kurosaki-kun. And then, when he turned his head to look at her standing in the frame of the third-floor window, there was this type of…awe on his face.
He said her name like it was a light piercing through his darkness.
. .
"This is the last one, everyone."
"Urgh," Keigo said, bringing his head up from the table. "I'm stuffed. I'm not eating again until, like, midnight."
"Yeah," Tatsuki-chan sighed. "Okay. This is their chocolate mousse cheesecake, and it's got," Tatsuki-chan sighed again as she referred to the menu, "'a base of a chocolate cake and strawberries, a second layer of decadent cheesecake overlaid with a chocolate mousse topping and a drizzle of chocolate syrup.' So, since it's like eighty-two-point-seven-five percent chocolate, Ichigo—you are Inoue's substitute and you can't fight about it."
"Okay, fine." And then, all of sudden, his gloriousness was focused on her. "Are you ready, Inoue-san?"
Her face went pink. "Um—yes! Thank you, Kurosaki-kun! Thanks for being my substitute stomach." It was impossible for her to tell if her face was burning because of his undivided attention or because of what she had blurted.
The look he gave her was confused but he smiled anyway. "Yeah. No problem, Inoue-san."
The group got silent as he pushed the plate towards her. A tingle crept up her arm as his hand lightly bumped into hers.
"Sorry about that."
Her head felt like it was full of a gallon of air. "No, it's okay."
She made the first slice and raised it to her lips with her free hand cupped under her fork just like Kuchiki-san had. Part of her hoped neither he nor Kuchiki-san herself would notice.
They didn't.
And despite everything, the cake had tasted amazing.
She passed the plate over to Kurosaki-kun and watched as he lifted up his fork. As she watched him test the weight of his forkful, she felt the stirrings of bravery again.
She would do it.
She would ask him to call her by her first name. And when he asked her to call him by his first name in response, she would do that, too.
But a ringtone chimed out and as if it were a Pavlovian response, Kurosaki-kun stiffened. One by one, everyone else shivered at the same time. To her, it was like the feeling of being pricked by a needle, but she saw Tatuski-chan shiver and cover her ears. "It's so loud. Sounds like it's nearby."
"Rukia."
"Right." Kuchiki-san dug out her phone from the tiny purse resting beside her thigh.
Its electronic glow casted her in hues of blue. "It's a few blocks from here."
"Do you need some help?" Yasutora-kun.
"No, it's okay. The party shouldn't stop because of this." Kuchiki-san gave Kurosaki-kun an expression that was all business. "Ichigo."
"Yeah."
They stood as a unit.
"Sorry, Inoue-san, but thank you for inviting us." Kuchiki-san bowed to her slightly before turning away and tapping on her phone's surface.
"Yeah, thanks for the invite, Inoue-san."
She watched as he dug into the pocket of his joggers and retrieved two pieces of candy about two sizes smaller than a gumball. His body eased towards Kuchiki-san's and he handed her the light purple one. The other, a bright orange, rested on his tongue.
"Um, Kurosaki-kun!"
"Hmm?"
"I…I…" She had wanted to be brave. But the question she had been burning to ask between every bite evaporated from her tongue and there were new ones:
"Do you notice how close you stand next to Kuchiki-san?"
"Did you notice that you waited for her to eat her piece of candy first?"
"Did…you know that looking at them was like watching two people in their own little world?"
She was bowing before she could stop herself. "Thank you for coming, Kurosaki-kun, Kuchiki-san."
They left almost the same way they had arrived: in step together, but this time in a fast sprint. And with Kurosaki-kun's retreat and the shedding of himself for that other version of himself, the one where he wore black robes and wielded a sword that was like from her dream that wasn't really a dream, the further and further the worlds between them seemed to become.
Lifetime 015, a lifetime in which Orihime is never of help to Ichigo.