A/N: As I'm still feeling like I might've been mean last chapter, I won't make you wait to see how I make it better. Go on, read!

Disclaimer: If Bleach were mine…well, it's not, so why dwell on the details?

Soul Mates

Chapter 19: Picking up the Pieces I

Ichigo pried his eyes open when his phone started ringing, and for a moment he stared at his ceiling, wondering when he had even fallen asleep. The last thing he remembered was agonizing over the idea of his little sister going on her first date.

His phone rang again and his brain finally kicked into motion. That was Orihime's ringtone.

He was on his feet and standing in front of his desk before the next ring, asking, "Orihime?"

There was a beat of silence on the other end and he had to tell himself not to panic. But his eyes strayed to the clock by his free hand, which told him it was only slightly less than thirty minutes after midnight, and panicking sounded a little more appropriate.

And then he heard her take a deep, ragged breath and fear squeezed his heart. There were tears in that sound. And her choked, watery voice confirmed that suspicion when she finally managed, "I-Ichigo!"

A thousand equally terrifying scenarios flashed through his mind and his fist clenched over the desk. He couldn't do anything until he knew something about the situation.

He tried to keep his voice soothing as he asked the obvious question, "What happened?"

Her breathing was becoming increasingly distorted through her tears, but Orihime asked, "C-can you…come over? I know it's a…school night, but…. Please."

She's hurt, his brain whispered as his stomach tightened. "I'll be right there. Keep the phone and your hairpins with you until I get to you; I'll have my key."

"Okay," Orihime gasped.

He was already moving by the time he heard her disconnect. He didn't know what was going on, but a few things were safe to assume: he would be staying with her for the rest of the night, he wasn't going to like whatever she told him, and he was going to kill someone in the near future.

Ignoring his already-angry hollow, and not wanting to waste unnecessary time, Ichigo took the clothes from the previous afternoon (which were still on his floor) and shoved them into the overnight bag that he kept beneath his desk. He tossed his Combat Pass into the bag as well, since his pajama pants didn't have pockets, and he zipped the bag shut as he attempted to quickly and quietly run down the stairs.

He barely paused to shove his bare feet into his sneakers and yank a jacket from the closet in the hall before he let himself out of the house, and it took far too long for him to lock the front door behind himself.

And then he was running. His feet slammed into the pavement, his overnight bag bouncing against his side and back, as he propelled himself forward at a speed he could never have achieved without his experience as a Soul Reaper.

Once he was running he flipped his phone open again and dialed his father's non-emergency work number. His old man always checked for messages first thing in the morning, and this way he wouldn't have to take the time to leave a note. He figured his message was probably awkward and short, but he left the necessary details and hung up.

Orihime's apartment building was several blocks away, and, under normal circumstances, it was a good ten minute walk.

But he wasn't walking.

And when he glanced at his phone as he pulled his key-ring off of his index finger, the clock on the display told him he'd made the trip in just under half the time. But that meant he'd made her wait five minutes.

Ichigo easily unlocked Orihime's door with the spare key she'd given him shortly after they'd started dating, and he wasted no time rushing inside.

He nearly tripped over the haphazardly-dropped coat stand that was lying across the floor of the entry, but he bit back the curse as he pushed the door shut. A knocked over coat stand was not something he was expecting to find, and as he stepped quickly out of his shoes he lifted his gaze toward the living room.

His mouth went dry at the mess that was Orihime's living room. For a moment, he forgot to breathe, and the utter stillness resonating from within his inner world only seemed to echo his terror.

He'd participated in enough fights to know the evidence of one when he saw it.

"Orihime?" he called as he made his way quickly down the hall. Her spiritual pressure was coming from her bedroom, and it was stable, if not somewhat off.

And then he was standing in the entry to her bedroom, and his eyes immediately landed on her huddled form.

Orihime was curled into a ball, her back against her dresser, her arms wrapped around her knees, one hand clinging tightly to her phone, and her head down as her shoulders shook. She was dressed in nothing but a nightgown.

Ichigo let the overnight bag fall to the floor with a thud as he crossed quickly to her, calling her name softly. "Orihime."

She jerked, startled at the nearness of his voice, and her head snapped up, eyes wide. Her eyes were red and her cheeks shimmered with tears that were still falling. "Ichigo…." She sucked in a breath, dropped her phone, and threw herself into his arms as soon as his knees touched the ground beside her.

"I'm here," Ichigo murmured as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She was already clinging to his jacket sleeves, shaking with a new round of tears. "I'm here," he repeated. But I wasn't when I should have been.

He would wait to ask what had happened until she was able to speak, but it was obvious that whatever it was had been bad. And he was terrified of just how bad it could have been.

Orihime let herself cry for another minute, relishing in finally feeling truly safe as Ichigo held her.

When she could, she took several deep breaths and loosened her death-grip on his jacket. She pulled back a little, sniffling, and offered, "I-I'm sorry…I just…I can't handle being alone right now."

Ichigo frowned at her and removed one hand from her back in order to gently wipe some of the tears from her cheek. "You don't have to apologize, Hime. But…could you tell me what happened?"

She pulled her lip between her teeth for a moment before nodding slowly. "Y-you know Kobe, from class?"

His eyes narrowed and he nodded. "The guy in your group."

Orihime swallowed, her eyes drooping as she said, "He…showed up at the door…I didn't even look, and I know I should have. When I opened the door he just walked in and…he tried to…." The words stuck in her throat and a new wave of tears tried to break free, but this time she fought them back.

Her hands tightened in his sleeves again and Ichigo was pretty sure that he knew how that sentence would have ended.

He pulled her against him again, his hand threading her hair to support the back of her head, and he pressed his face into her hair as his eyes squeezed shut. "God, Orihime, I'm sorry I wasn't here. Please tell me you're not hurt."

"I'm just…a little bruised," Orihime replied as she collected herself again. "And…he got my arm with his knife I think."

"But he didn't…?" Ichigo didn't even want to think it, let alone say the words aloud.

Orihime shook her head, pulling back again to look into his eyes. "No," she assured him. "He didn't really touch me…not like that."

Ichigo released a breath and nodded. Never had he felt that his sanity so hung on such a simple word before that moment.

They sat in silence for another long minute, Orihime with her head tucked beneath Ichigo's chin and Ichigo with his arms wrapped as tightly as he dared around her.

At length, Ichigo finally asked, "Can you walk?"

Orihime's eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice and she hesitantly replied, "Yes. Why?"

"I just wanna get you into the bathroom," Ichigo explained, "so I can get a good look at you." He felt her stiffen slightly in his arms and he added, "We can keep your back to the mirror if you want."

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and took a deep breath before she said, "No…you're right. I need to see what to heal…."

It was Ichigo's turn to hesitate, his jaw locked tight for a moment as he struggled with himself. He didn't want her to suffer any longer than she had to, and he knew he really wouldn't have a problem helping the bastard forget how to breathe. But he also knew that Orihime wouldn't like the idea of someone ending up dead because they'd been stupid enough to hurt her.

"She'll forgive you," his hollow argued darkly. "That fucking bastard needs to die – slowly. I'll even do it for you if you want. She'd forgive you even easier that way."

"…Ichigo?" Orihime asked softly, sensing his struggle but not understanding it.

He swallowed, continuing to ignore his hollow's admittedly-tempting offer, and forcibly unlocked his jaw so that he could say, "I'm sorry, Hime, but…I don't think you should heal yourself yet."

Confusion overwhelmed any other reaction as her eyes opened wide and she blinked at Ichigo's collar. "Eh?"

"One way or another," he began quietly, "I'm making sure he never gets close enough to share air-space with you. But I imagine you'd be against my first solution, so…you'll have to report him."

Understanding settled over her and Orihime's lips curved back into a frown. "And for that I have to keep my injuries."

Ichigo shifted and pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head before adding, "Only for a couple of days."

She nodded without lifting her head and replied, "I'll promise to go to the police in the morning if you'll promise not to kill him."

"And I'll promise not to kill him so long as he never comes near you again," Ichigo assured her.

"But if he does, all bets are off," his hollow added venomously.

Orihime took a deep breath and said, "Alright…let's get this over with, then."

Ichigo tightened his arms around her for an instant before pulling back enough to push to his feet, simultaneously helping her stand as well. Once she was steady he guided her out of the bedroom and into her bathroom.

He held her gaze as he reached for the light switch, pausing until she inclined her head in a half-nod, and then he flicked it up. Bright fluorescent light immediately filled the room, causing them both to squint for a moment as their eyes adjusted.

Orihime held her breath as she glanced down at herself. Her back was currently to the mirror, so she knew she couldn't see everything, but she could see enough to know that her nightgown was ruined. And her wrists were already bruising from when Kobe had briefly pinned her.

Ichigo took a long breath as he dragged his eyes back to her, slowly skimming her form from head to toe.

Her hair was disheveled, her eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks were stained from her tears. Her hairpins were hanging awkwardly around the strap over her heart. But none of these things surprised him.

His eyes easily found the knife injury she'd warned him about. The slice went almost all the way across her upper left arm, and flakes of dried blood were still sticking to her skin beneath it, indicating that it had bled for a few minutes.

He swallowed and continued his examination, trying to ignore the blood boiling beneath his skin.

The tear in her nightgown caught his eye next and, at first, he found himself feeling grateful that that was all he saw. But then his eyes flicked past her, to her reflection, and he noticed that the tear went almost all the way to the small of her back, and there was a thin slice over the back of her hip. It didn't look like it had been as bad as the one on her arm, but it was there.

He continued his silent investigation after a moment, and his eyes shortly landed on the bruises forming on her wrists. Hand marks.

The image of her pinned and struggling beneath a man she'd thought she could trust nearly sent his self-control out the window.

Orihime saw the swirls of black leaking into the edges of Ichigo's eyes and she quickly stepped into him, letting her hands land on his shoulders, beneath his jacket, as she leaned up and pressed her lips to his. She held herself there until the tension began seeping from his shoulders and he was responding to the kiss, and then she pulled back enough to whisper, "It's over now, and I'm okay."

His hands landed on her hips, his touch feather-light, and he said, "It could've been worse, yeah, but you're still hurt. That will never be okay."

She offered him a grateful, reassuring smile and replied, "I know. And I probably should have said I will be okay, because that's the truth. I will be – so long as I have you beside me."

"Always, Hime," Ichigo declared gruffly, his arms winding around her and pulling her close. "Always," he repeated, his lips beside her ear.

His eyes lifted as he held her, to her reflection in the mirror, and were almost immediately drawn to the bruise he hadn't yet seen that was forming along the back of her right shoulder. It looked like an impact bruise.

Never again, he vowed silently.

Ichigo talked Orihime into taking a shower a short while later, and while she was scrubbing herself clean he went through and picked up what he could of the mess. But not before he picked his phone up off the floor, took several pictures, and emailed them to himself to print in the morning. If they were going to go after Kobe and make sure he regretted what he'd done – and tried to do – Ichigo was going to make sure they did it right.

When Orihime stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in a new nightgown and her hair hanging loose, Ichigo immediately moved up to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he navigated them back to her bedroom.

They settled quietly on her futon, and it wasn't until Orihime had snuggled into his side, with her head pillowed on his chest and his arm tight around her back, that she realized what he'd been wearing beneath his now-discarded jacket. Voice soft, she asked, "You ran over in your pajamas?"

Ichigo's thumb was rubbing gentle, soothing circles over her forearm and he said, "I wasn't exactly gonna take the time to change first."

She smiled, too tired to feel guilty, and replied, "I don't know what I'd do without you…."

"You won't ever have to find out, Hime," Ichigo promised quietly.

Orihime said nothing more as she let herself relax, and within minutes she was fast asleep.

Ichigo laid awake, staring unseeingly up at the ceiling as his mind went over everything that had – and could have – happened that night. He told himself to remember that it really could have been much worse. But he kept returning to one simple thought.

It should never have happened at all.

Sleep finally forced his eyes shut a little before four in the morning, and neither of them had moved an inch when Orihime's forgotten alarm went off two short hours later.

Orihime groaned at the obtrusive sound, squeezing her eyes shut and telling herself that it would go away if she ignored it long enough. But then Ichigo shifted beneath her and she knew she wouldn't be able to ignore it.

"Remind me again why I haven't chucked that thing out the window?" Ichigo grunted as he pulled his hand from her arm and dragged it over his face.

"Because I need it," Orihime replied sleepily as a yawn overtook her.

They stretched their tired muscles as they moved around and sat up reluctantly. Ichigo reached out and slammed his hand down onto the blaring alarm, nearly knocking it off of the dresser in the process.

And then Ichigo's cell phone began ringing.

Turning sleep (and tear) crusted eyes toward him, Orihime asked, "Is that you?"

Ichigo sighed and pushed to his feet, moving toward the dresser and his phone as he replied, "Yeah. It's probably my old man."

Guilt swarmed her and, as Ichigo lifted the device from the dresser, she said, "Tell him it was my fault."

Ichigo gave her a firm look, silently refusing, as he flipped it open and put it to his ear. "You got my message?"

His father's voice was grave as he asked, "How is she?"

Eyes holding Orihime's, Ichigo replied, "She'll survive. You'll hear the details later, but get the clinic open. She's gonna need a doctor's report."

Isshin released a breath before he asked the other burning question. "And the person responsible?"

"Is why she needs the report," Ichigo replied shortly.

"Alright," Isshin said, "but get her over here as quickly as you can."

"Yeah," Ichigo agreed before pulling the phone from his ear and flipping it shut again.

"Ichigo…?" Orihime asked carefully, not entirely sure what was going on.

His expression softening, Ichigo knelt before her and said, "If we're doing this the legal way then you should have some sort of medical evidence, so get dressed and we'll head to the clinic."

"But," she began hesitantly, "what about school?"

"We'll be late," he replied easily. "We were gonna miss a little class talking to the principal anyway."

Slowly, Orihime nodded. "That makes sense…. Is he mad at you?"

"Of course not," Ichigo assured her, lifting one hand and trailing his thumb over her cheek. "We should get ready, but, there's one more thing I want to talk to you about."

Curious, Orihime lifted one hand to dance her fingertips lightly along the back of his hand and wrist as she asked, "What is it?"

Ichigo hesitated, unsure of how she'd actually feel about the decision he'd made while she'd slept the night before. But, after a beat, he said firmly, "If it's okay with you, I think it's time I moved in."

Orihime froze, eyes wide, as her breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to ask what had prompted this decision, but then she thought better of the question and clamped it shut. She knew exactly what had prompted it.

"I know it's a little sudden," Ichigo continued, using her silence to explain his thoughts. "But I was going to ask you about it after graduation anyway, and after what happened – and almost happened – last night, I don't want you living alone."

She had to swallow heavily to jump-start her heart, and even then she could only manage a quiet, "…What about your family?"

"I'd only be moving out a couple of months early at the most," Ichigo explained. "And I'm pretty sure they'd understand."

"And," Orihime began, her hand holding onto his wrist now for support, "are you…sure?"

Ichigo's hand shifted until he was cupping her face, his touch gentle but strong, and he said, "I'm sure."

Tears pooled and spilled almost simultaneously from her eyes as a smile curved her lips and Orihime leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders in a hug. "Thank you," she breathed, her head on his shoulder and her nose pressed to his neck.

She knew she would have worried, as soon as she had the time to think about it, about every upcoming night alone. It would be a little while before she stopped worrying about Kobe, but even once she did, she knew he had tainted her sense of security. She would surely have worried, at least a little, every night she spent by herself.

And now, before that had even become a problem, Ichigo had provided the perfect solution.

Ichigo held her for a long minute, content with the knowledge that he'd made the right decision, before they reluctantly pulled apart. They still had to dress and head over to his father's clinic.

As Orihime moved to her closet and pulled out her school uniform, Ichigo knelt in front of his overnight bag and extracted his day-old clothes. He was tugging on his jeans, his pajamas temporarily discarded onto the floor, when he noticed that Orihime was giving him an odd look.

She flushed when she realized she'd been caught and, as she zipped up her skirt, she said, "I just assumed you'd brought your uniform, that's all!"

"My uniform was still in my closet," Ichigo replied by way of explanation. "These were on my floor, so I grabbed them and shoved them into the bag."

Her eyes drooped for a second as she mumbled, "I'm sorry…. Do you want me to restore them to a nice, fresh state?"

Ichigo paused, shirt in his hand, and opted to ignore her unnecessary apology in favor of grunting a phrase he never thought he'd say. "I want you to put your shirt on."

"What are you, broken?" his hollow asked incredulously.

"Now isn't the time," Ichigo snapped shortly.

Orihime laughed self-consciously and slipped her arms through the sleeves of her shirt. She buttoned it quickly, trying not to stare as he tugged his own into place, and then she re-tied the bow around her neck.

Ichigo shoved his pajamas back into his overnight bag, extracted his Combat Pass, lifted his phone from the dresser, and dropped both items into his pocket. He turned toward Orihime without picking the overnight bag up from the floor and asked, "Are you ready?"

Her head was mid-nod when she remembered that leaving meant walking through the living room. And then she hesitated.

You have to see it eventually, she told herself.

She took a deep breath and resumed her nod. "Yes," she said.

Ichigo moved up to her, threaded the tips of his fingers into her hair, and said gently, "I'll be right beside you the whole time."

She smiled, relaxing at his words, and curled her hands into the sides of his shirt before leaning up and pressing her lips to his. When she pulled back she said, "Let's do this."

He nodded, and together they turned and walked out of her bedroom.

Orihime's eyes widened when she realized that her living room wasn't exactly as she remembered it – though the coffee table was still broken. But her couch cushions had been fixed, her coat stand was upright and in its usual place, and the knife was gone.

"Ah, hang on," Ichigo suddenly said, tugging her toward the kitchen. He released her hand and moved toward her counter, and Orihime caught a glimpse of a plastic bag as he picked it up.

"What's that?" she asked carefully. She suspected she already knew the answer.

Ichigo turned, holding the bag with the switchblade up for her inspection, and explained, "I figure I'll turn it in to my dad instead of taking it to school. I didn't think you'd mind."

Orihime shook her head, her eyes glued to the blade for a long moment. "No, that's…that's a good idea."

They resumed their path, then, and paused in the entry way to slip into their respective jackets. Orihime pulled on her school coat, zipping it most of the way up and securing her hairpins to the front pocket, and Ichigo shrugged into the jacket he'd brought over the night before. He deposited the knife in one of the pockets, she lifted her school bag from the floor, they stepped into their shoes, and Ichigo led the way out into the hall.

With her door locked behind them, they made their way to the staircase, one of Orihime's hands wrapped securely in Ichigo's.

But her pace slowed as they neared the second floor and her grip tightened over his fingers. Despite having Ichigo beside her, her nerves were picking up again.

Ichigo stopped, one step ahead of her, and met her gaze. "I'll be between you and the door," he said, "and we'll be on the ground before you know it."

She took a deep breath, her eyes flickering one more time to the heavy door that separated them from the second floor, and she nodded.

Ichigo kept his word, staying directly beside her and between her and the door, until they were pushing out of the stairwell and into the open morning air.

To Be Continued…

A/N: So, I'm hoping that this chapter was appropriately intense, without being overwhelming. But, more so, I'm hoping that you liked it! And though this story is wrapping up, it's not quite done yet! Now go on and review – it'll help pass the time until the next one!