A/N: As a show of appreciation, I would like to share some things about this story.
1) The first 3 chapters were the byproduct of time that should've been spent studying for an exam (held on Nov 30). Really brought me back to my university days when instead of paying attention in class, I was writing Harry Potter fanfics *lol*
2) Been a fan of Bleach and Ichihime for almost 5 years and only now started writing a fic for it despite being bombarded by plot bunnies over the years. It's also one of the rare fluffy fics I've ever written as usually my pieces are heavy on angst.
3) Daily updates are only possible because I write on the fly on the same day it gets posted up, hence the short chapters. I do try to keep them over 1000 words lately.
4) Keigo's look in chapter 4 was inspired by Unubore from the jdrama Unubore Deka. The only things missing were the snazzy white suit and the even snazzier theme song ;P
5) While writing this chapter, I wondered if the analysis of Sleeping Beauty as a tale of coming into sexual awareness also applies to guys.

I hope you continue to enjoy reading this fic. I hope someday I'll be able to reply to all your reviews to express how I very much appreciate you sharing your thoughts about this story. Thank you very much :)

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite.

Ichigo stared out the window into the school grounds. From this vantage point, it was hard to see the tree where the girls usually sat for lunch. It was just as well; he had a lot in his mind to sort through, and staring at Inoue would probably be more detrimental in his search for the proper course of action to take.

"Kurosaki-kun, I..."

He stopped the memory, running frustrated hands through his hair. Everyday, when alone, he'd see her face in his head, and he'd be angry at himself: at his callous words, and at the way his body reacted in the dark to any thoughts of her, regardless of context.

Things were easier when he hadn't been aware. Before she'd finally made her feelings known, the words ignorance is bliss made things between him and Inoue uncomplicated. At least on his end.

And then Ichigo remembered: the things he did with her that he hadn't really given much thought of, acts that he only now realized could have been construed as something other than what he'd felt was necessary at the time, like hauling her over his shoulder following his defeat of Grimmjow when they were in Hueco Mundo. He'd thought doing that was the fastest method to bring her down to the ground, but now...

He coloured. He'd just manhandled Inoue like a sack of rice without a second thought. Because too many events and fights have happened there, his memory was hazy and he couldn't remember too clearly whether his hands had touched inappropriate places. The only impression left in his mind was that Orihime's body had been really soft.

Ichigo started.

Did he really just call her...?

He flushed hotly. Even though they were close friends, he didn't think he was that familiar with her as to even address her by her given name―not that there was anything wrong with it or that it was an ugly name or anything―

He shook his head. When had he become so awkward? He felt like such a bumbling idiot. But at the same time, he felt like he had woken up. As though a whole new world had somehow opened before him, waiting for him to explore it.

And it scared him more than actually seeing and plunging headfirst into alternate realms like Soul Society or Hueco Mundo. With those places, he'd had a purpose. A mission. Things he must accomplish, so there was no time to think, no time to worry over complicated things that would just get in the way of what he was striving for.

And now...

Now, he didn't know what to do nor where to begin nor who to go to for guidance. His father―Ichigo scoffed, knowing just how well that could go. Even worse if he'd asked other adults like Ikumi-san or Geta-Boshi.

And he'd really hate to ask Mizuiro, feeling embarrassed at having to go to a friend for such a thing. Besides, with the way Mizuiro had been acting lately―somewhat teasing about the whole situation of Inoue and the chocolates―even though he was the one with the most experience of all his friends regarding such matters as relationships, Ichigo didn't think he could bear it. Especially the questions about why he did what he did several weeks ago that he knew were bound to be asked.

He really was alone in this.

Ichigo sighed. It seemed he'd been doing that a lot lately. But he was really starting to hate this sense of hopelessness. He was one to take action first and think about consequences later. He was one to let instinct lead him, to plunge headfirst into any danger and risk his life.

And now, like Inoue, Ichigo felt that he was ready to risk his heart.

"Kurosaki-kun."

A voice called him, pried him away from his thoughts, and he turned away from the window to meet the source of his (somewhat delicious and equally cruel) torment.

There she stood in front of him, with a smile fixed on her lips that he realized was meant to soothe him, to put him at his ease. His chest hitched, and it filled Ichigo with shame at the realization that things could not have been easy for her these past weeks. And yet, she was willing to put aside her feelings just so they could still remain friends.

She had been hurt, and once again, he had failed to protect her. This time, from himself.

"Inoue."

Her lips trembled, wiped the smile that she fought to keep in place as she sensed something different with the way her name fell from his lips.

Unbidden, his hand rose of its own accord and touched the ends of her bangs, fingertips lightly brushing her cheek.

Puzzlement lay on her brow, a question in her eyes, and she moistened her lips, words hurrying to escape yet stopped at her throat, swallowed by his own lips as it lightly touched hers.

It was over too fast, and he sprung away from her as he suddenly became aware of what he'd done.

Eyes wide, panicked, breath ragged and heavy, Ichigo began to say the words that would unmake her.

"Inoue, I'm sor―"

A whimper escaped her as she shook her head. "Don't," she pleaded. "Please don't say it." Voice tremulous, tears blurred her vision of him, but she refused to let them fall. Hope, bitter and sweet, filled her heart at that small, seemingly inconsequential act. It was a step, and coming from him, it was progress and it made her world. And she adamantly would not let him think it was a mistake.

Lowering his head, he despaired at his own inadequate handling of this matter between them. He wanted to do right by her, so he'd cleared his mind when her voice called his name and just went where his instincts led him. How could things go so wrong so fast? How could he mess up simply by letting go of all the issues that plagued him? And now, he'd ruined things in such a way that he became all the more aware of his own lack of knowledge and experience. How could he repair this?

Shakily, he started to reach for Inoue's hand.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Came a voice, newly broken from their self-imposed silence.

It shook with barely contained fury.

The quiet roar of a vengeful dragon.

Thanks for reading :)
Dec/2010