Chapter 2 - Introduction
Kouki Hikaru prided himself on his inborn ability at pestering those around him into submission. He therefore felt no discomfort at confidently giving himself a one week deadline, a duration in which to find out Ichigo's secret about the auburn haired girl. But a month had passed and his friend was even more tight lipped than the first day. Hikaru, being the blatantly curious type, took to observing Ichigo, who behaved cumulatively more moody as each day passed. The signs to this perpetual grumpy composure included a permanently engraved scowl (Hikaru took a picture of him sleeping during lecture while still wearing his now famous scowl, that is, before he drew on his friend's face), limited speech, a lack of appetite and the occasional glaring at an inanimate object.
By the end of five weeks, an incident occurred that shed some light onto the mystery of Ichigo's silently fuming performance. The friendship between Ichigo and Suzuki had turned rapidly frosty since the pizza restaurant event despite still sharing the same room. At first, Ichigo acted as though nothing was wrong, but even Hikaru noticed the crackling tension in the room between the two boys. The friction only amplified as the two boys spoke only rarely to each other and normally in gruff bitter tones. One day, Hikaru encouraged Suzuki to sit with himself and Ichigo in the Hall's common room one quiet Sunday evening, as the two English lit students were reading for lectures (having naturally left it all to the last minute). Suzuki silently accepted and sat on the sofa facing Ichigo on the opposite side of the room. Despite not a word of correspondence for almost half an hour, the pressure mounted to bursting point and it did just that; burst.
Ichigo suddenly slammed Hemmingway down onto the coffee table and growled across the room.
'What do you think you're playing at?'
'What?' replied Suzuki looking irritably quizzical.
'You know what!'
'No, I don't'
'Yes you do!'
'I'm not a mind reader.'
'You're cosying up to her!' there was a pause where Hikaru looked from one to the other trying to understand the look of comprehension in Suzuki's eyes and the irate blaze in Ichigo's.
'I talk to her Kurosaki, it's not a crime.'
'There is no reason for you to talk to her at every bloody chance you get.'
'We're doing the same degree Kurosaki, we kind of share the same lectures, assignments and friends. It would be hard not to talk to her.'
'That's a lie and you know it, I know why you really talk to her.' Ichigo's face was twisted in bitter anger, Suzuki's face resembled one whose patience had snapped.
'If you can't handle your jealousy, do something about it.'
Within a flash Ichigo stood up, his fists clenching by his sides. 'I am not jealous.' growled Ichigo, his face a simmering depiction of calmed tornadoes. By this time Suzuki had stood up too, causing a frightened Hikaru to join them.
'Well you sure are acting like it.' replied Suzuki clearly, his dark eyes flashing in anger, a rare emotion to see in him.
'Yeah, because you would know all about jealousy wouldn't you.' Hikaru by this point was unbelievably grateful for the coffee table that separated the two men. But it seemed the coffee table would not stop daggers being thrown.
'If you don't like me talking to her, deal with it. Because if I stop talking to her that doesn't mean no one else will. You were the one that separated from her, you chose not to approach her. So you have no right to be possessive Kurosaki.' Ichigo's eyes fumed and his chest swelled as he breathed out heavily while stomping his way to face Suzuki. He wanted to bellow, shout and curse. But no words came out, because he didn't know what he wanted to say. They stood in front of each other for a few moments, Hikaru completely forgotten. Suzuki's eyes softened a fraction before he said 'Just grow a pair and talk to her.' Ichigo averted his eyes to the ground while Suzuki stepped away and walked out of the room.
'Oi, you alright?' treaded Hikaru lightly, he got not answer.
The first week of university went by very quickly for Orihime, but she could not say that she enjoyed it. Her disappointment at not seeing Kurosaki-kun at her lectures was acute, she had hoped he had simply not chosen to attend lectures until the thought that he could be studying something else passed her mind and she resigned herself.
She supposed she should have slapped herself for thinking there would be girls in her course to befriend. Though it wasn't entirely true that she was the only girl in her course. There were two others, one that was a study-holic and never seen beyond her pile books at a reserved desk in the library where, it was rumoured, that she slept as well. The other was a well known girl of dark hair and black eyes called Yuki Miyazaki.
Yuki was not known for favourable reasons, Orihime found her provocative dress code undignified and her hung over appearance every morning annoying. However, what was most disturbing was the way in which Yuki was trying to befriend her. Orihime was aware that Yuki bathed in the attention her male classmates showered her in, she paid no attention to lectures; preferring instead to enjoy flirting with her neighbours, and her rapidly grown notorious reputation for allowing acts of intimacy with many male students in the university had spread even to Orihime's ears.
Though Orihime wanted to give Yuki the benefit of the doubt and regard her as a respectable girl, she was wary; Yuki did not project anything like respectability in her day to day behaviour and so Orihime preferred to be out of Yuki's possibly influential ways. But the girl was insistent at staying by Orihime's side. After the lecture was over Yuki would walk up to Orihime almost every day and attempt a conversation, they had started off lightly; clothes, shoes, food, home. They had then veered off to dangerous grounds; alcohol, parties, men, sex and drugs. The turn of conversation had taken a highly explicit tone; disturbing Orihime to such an extent, that she vowed to avoid Yuki at all costs. Orihime had hoped to steer clear of Yuki politely and unnoticeably to prevent pain, but Yuki had known and almost immediately her face unveiled a naked bitterness and jealousy in her narrowed dark eyes. Orihime was naturally confused, what on earth could Yuki be jealous of in her?
Friend making within her course seemed to be impossible to Orihime by the third week. Suzuki-kun had been one of the few men in her course to regard her nonchalantly, Orihime had not known when she enrolled for Mechanical Engineering that she would be so singled out on the simple basis of being a woman. However, it was happening so acutely that after a fortnight of lectures Orihime was decidedly miserable but then Suzuki-kun had talked to her, reminding her that they had once met as children. She had forgotten but soon enough a blurred face came from the deep recesses of her mind and Orihime could faintly remember a gangly ten year old silent boy. Suzuki-kun had proven a greatly dependable friend to Orihime, gradually she had been able to befriend a few more boys in her course, they were silent and surely but hard working and genuine; polar opposites to the boys who spoke to her with poorly hidden agendas scrawled all over their faces and lighting up their wandering eyes.
By the fourth week Orihime had made the effort to join the Tennis team, where (thank the heavens) there were girls; intelligent young women who found passion in the sport and dedication to building their futures. But still, Orihime was melancholy behind her happy visage; she had not seen or heard a word from Kurosaki-kun. She dared not mention him to Suzuki-kun as he had not mentioned him either. But she speculated about Kurosaki-kun's avoidance of her terribly, because he was indeed avoiding her, that much was obvious when he turned his back on her, walked away from her, the first time they had made precious eye contact in the Pizza restaurant. But she had faith and hoped dearly that he would make himself available to rekindle a lost friendship she had once held so dear.
As much as Ichigo hated to admit it, Suzuki was right, he had been acting cowardly. Naturally, Ichigo couldn't allow Suzuki to be right for long and so he swore to himself in a five worded oath the he would talk to Orihime, no matter the cost.
After a week of discrete snooping around campus, Ichigo came to understand that Orihime spent most of her afternoons studying in the campus library, a magnificent five floor stand alone building. As Ichigo's reading comprised of mainly novels and nonfiction prose, he did not find much need for using reference text books and so, would rarely enter the library; which was about to end.
The library was semi-full, it being only the second month of the first term, and so it was relatively easy to spot auburn hair among the mass of black and blonde. The difficult bit was positioning himself near her. Several times, he resolved himself to sit near her, there were plenty of available spaces , but he would be lacking in a tremendous amount of courage. The final result was cringe worthy; he would towards her, slow down, then walk away again, panting from the emotional exertion.
A week of this turmoil passed until Ichigo saw Suzuki sitting next to Orihime, both pouring over books on machines, and his mind was set. He stomped over, grabbed the chair three spaces away from Orihime (he was not too courageous after all) and plopped down audibly. Orihime lifted her head, saw an orange head hidden by a book called "The Portrait of Dorian Gray", then dropped it back to her tutorial sheet, completely forgetting the equation she was working on. Suzuki smirked.
The next day, Suzuki was absent, but another irritating Y chromosome was sitting next to her, but both were silently studying, asking each other questions occasionally. The day after, Ichigo found the courage to sit two seats away from her, but he dared not speak. What could he say to her? Nothing that wouldn't be humiliating, so he resumed his silence.
To say Orihime hadn't noticed Ichigo on the other end of her table would have been a downright lie. She noticed his heavy footsteps as he approached her table, she noticed the fluid way he rolled out a chair, she noticed how far along in his book he was, and even counted the number of times she had furtively glanced up at him. One thing that was absolutely certain, was her tremulous excitement and painfully raised anticipation every time he came to the library. When would he make a move? But she was being silly, this modern age was an era of gender equality.. or somewhat closer to it than fifty years ago, so surely she should make the move… a move that could potentially be a crucial pivot to whatever disguised near-relationship they were in. But she did not, for shyness not yet overcoming socially unspoken rules.
It was a Wednesday, and Kuroskai-kun seemed to have promoted himself to sitting one seat away from her, he was conveniently across from her so she could amuse herself with his vibrantly spiky hair; puffing out from the top of his book. It was a new one today; "Mrs Dalloway" it was called, he must have finished the other one. Wow he's a fast reader. But this new book, Orihime noticed, had not been turned a single page for the past hour.
Suddenly the book lowered to the desk where strong forearms rested. Orihime was too captivated by the revealed face to remember to lower her gaze back her work. And that was when she realised that a face was looking at her, and it was his face, and she was looking straight back at it.
Embarrassed and discomposed, Orihime abruptly looked away, fiddling with her pen and started scribbling down a drawing of something related to her tutorial worksheet. What was it about again? Oh yes; moments about the pivot of a beam, that was it, one load was heavier on one side than the other. So what force was necessary to resume balance for both sides? After a few moments of this pseudo studying Orihime heard the sudden rolling back of an ergonomic chair, immediately she looked to see the retreating back of Ichigo Kurosaki. Her heart sank. Why did he leave her? Again? For the past three days she had never once seen him leave, she assumed he left after she did, after all, he did seem to have a lot of reading to do. Had she done something wrong? She had only looked away. Next time she had to do something, she only hoped that there would be a next time.
It was Thursday, and Orihime chose to sit at a spacious table by the window, and she was its only occupant. However, at precisely four thirty, her orange haired enigma came walking casually and sat down in front of her. He sat directly in front of her! Oh she was having palpitations now! And light headedness. He was in front of her. He was so much in front of her that she both hated and loved the wide table for dividing them.
Her eyes were scrunched up in her face, resolutely staring down her worksheet, she so desperately needed to finish it. She looked up, he looked up, and they were looking at each other. And continued to look at each other. Her heart was racing with her lungs, competing to collapse. She had better not faint, as Orihime was determined not fit into that historical stereotype of female. Then, almost majestically, his lips parted…
'Hiya Orihime-chan!' came a voice, but it wasn't his voice. Orihime ripped her head around to look beside her, she groaned internally. It was Sade-san, a boy who was desperately after her attention, he had decided to station himself on the seat next to her and had even shifted it so that their thighs were nearly touching. There was an almost inaudible grumble from in front of her, Orihime flicked her head to find that "Mrs Dalloway" was obstructing her view.
'H-hello Sade-san.'
'Why don't you call me Kenzo?' said the boy, quickly closing the space between himself and the unfortunate girl.
Orihime pulled back and pushed her chair away from him 'I-I'm sorry, but I-I prefer to call you Sade san.'
'Oh come on Orihime-chan! You're breaking my heart.' He had moved closer to her, not deterred by her obvious reluctance. There was a deathly silence from in front of them. Orihime had reached the end of the table, having no exit other than to leave the table, and that would just be too rude of her. Sade then placed his hand onto hers and before she even had the chance to remove her own, a fist has smashed on top of Sade's wrist that was connected to the offending hand.
'OWW!' screamed Sade, nursing his hand. 'What's your problem?'
'Nothing. Just thought you were annoying.' It was the first time she heard his voice, despite the nonchalant anger in his tone she found that it was definitely a sound she wouldn't mind hearing again. Good heavens how it had changed from when he was just ten.
Sade cradled his rapidly swelling wrist to his chest while appraising Ichigo with a mixed look of incredulity, fear and confusion.
'You're a psychopathic nutter! You know that?' Ichigo just gave him a small crooked smirk. The first one Orihime had seen on him, it made her gasp so lightly that neither of the boys had noticed.
'Careful, your wrist doesn't look too good.' Sade looked down and swore.
'Perhaps you should go to hospital Sade san' interjected Orihime.
A light passed through the injured boy, 'Yes I should, would you come with me Orihime? I'm afraid I'll do more damage being by myself.'
'You don't need to be afraid, I'll do more damage for you.' Growled Ichigo.
Orihime swallowed and reluctantly acquiesced quickly, afraid more damage might indeed be done if Sade san stayed and it was not in her nature to turn down the wishes of a sick person, no matter how inappropriate they were. She packed her things away slowly, a last ditch effort for a chance at communication, but nothing happened. So she left, but managed to gather her courage and give Kurosaki-kun one grateful glance, she saw darkness in his eyes but had no time to comprehend its meaning.
Long after the two had left Ichigo by himself at the empty table, Ichigo swore loudly and slammed his fists on the table; causing several alarmed heads to fly in his direction and release tittering remarks when they saw him alone. He need to let off some steam before he started blowing like a steam engine. He headed to the gym, a few weights would probably help.
Ichigo ploughed his hand through his hair and thought over the past ten minutes; Her hair in that twisted bun she always wore, her downcast eyes, her studious studying. He thought how she looked at him, looked at him so beautifully, he wanted to tell her, make her know something of what he was feeling. But that poncy idiot with his wavy hair and open collared shirt irritatingly appeared and even touched her! Touched her! Touched Orihime! Took from her the softness of her hand!
That greedy, malicious, poor excuse for a human.
Where in any law book was that allowed? He was sure it was a criminal offence, it just had to be, and so a punishment was obviously necessary.
That had backfired so badly.
Ichigo made a mental note to himself; rein in anger next time. Because there will be a next time. He would make sure of it. That is, if he hadn't scared away Orihime.
Friday, the library had more students than normal, Orihime supposed it was due to an influx of late essay writers. Nonetheless, Orihime managed to find an empty table on the fifth floor, isolated in the business section of the library with her out of the ordinary mechanics of engineering text book.
Four thirty, and he wasn't there. Four thirty five, and Orihime was fretting. Four forty and Orihime was wondering if something had happened to him. Four forty-five and she sighed in both relief and burning anticipation when she heard familiar footsteps approach.
He sat down, she discreetly looked up, he wasn't there. She panicked and turned her head frantically, then blushed when she saw he had sat down a seat away from her. She must have looked so silly! Ichigo had detected movement in his peripheral vision, which he had trained to be rather acute over the past week. He looked up, she was looking down, he glanced back at "Mrs Dalloway". It didn't help that Virginia Woolf's writing was next to impossible to read easily, he must have ready the same line twenty times now.
An hour of these skirmish just-misses had passed until Ichigo persevered and glanced at her until she had glanced at him. There was an undefined moment between them, Orihime knew this was the pivotal point, either havoc or balance depended on her reaction. She had thought long and hard last night on what she would do if this very incident cared to repeat itself again.
Gathering every ounce of her courage, scrunching it up into a ball and propelling it forward, Orihime maintained eye contact and smiled. It was a genuine smile, a little nervous, a little shaky, quite brief, but solid and real. It was directed at Ichigo and was all for him. She waited nervously, her palms beginning to sweat, her effort was repaid. Ichigo moved into the seat in front of her. Never leaving her eyes.
'Hi' said Ichigo. A word, simple, only two letters. And it took him eight weeks to say it. Now he wanted to take his past self and beat him for being so cowardly.
'Hi' she repeated. She had such a delicate voice, it trembled a little, but her smile returned. What a smile she had. So fine, yet so powerful.
Without thinking Ichigo thrust out his hand 'Kurosaki Ichigo.' He introduced, knowing it was silly but knowing what else to do, he hadn't planned beyond the 'Hi' stage.
Orihime looked at his hand, then tentatively shook it with hers, 'Inoue Orihime.' It was strange, introducing yourself to someone you already know. But Orihime didn't mention it. Ichigo's brain was going into overdrive, it was just a handshake, but he couldn't help noticing how small and soft her hand was.. and how he had broken someone else's bones for noticing it too.
'So err..' Ichigo coughed to hide his blush, 'what are you working on?'
And so began their second friendship.
Dessa's Note: I had a lot more planned for this chapter but I kept adding stuff to it all and it eventually got too long. I'm actually reading Mrs Dalloway at the moment, it's reasonably short, but the writing is so complex! It's taken me a month so far and I haven't even finished it! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And now I'm off to night shifts!