A/N: This was another one of those ideas that popped into my head and set down roots until I caved and wrote it – granted, I'll admit, I didn't really resist all that hard. LOL Anyway, it's just a little one-shot, and it's not intended to be overly serious, but there is a plot! (A goofy one, maybe, but a plot nonetheless!) So, I'm hoping the characters won't be too OOC, but mostly, I hope you all enjoy the story!
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach in any way.
A Self-Made Fairytale
Ichigo Kurosaki stared, dumbfounded, at the tiny slip of paper in his hand. This must be some sort of joke, he decided, his jaw tense. He had drawn the offensive piece of paper with his own hand, so he couldn't blame it on any one person, although he was sure Keigo would have gladly taken the credit.
"Alright, everyone!" the teacher called as she stepped back up to the front of the class, the now-empty bowl which had recently contained the scraps of paper hanging loosely from one hand. Everyone silently turned their eyes to her and she continued with a smile. "We'll spend the rest of today working on the scripts, so get together and figure out something good! And remember, it's for children, so I expect each of your skits to be family-friendly!"
As the class erupted in chatter, Ichigo looked back down at the paper. Each person in class had found themselves assigned a partner – of the opposite sex – for an upcoming festival at Karakura Elementary. Each team was supposed to write, and then perform, a brief skit for the grade-schoolers.
To make it more interesting, their teacher had taken things a step further, and had one member of each group blindly reach into the bowl she now held in her hand and draw out a slip of paper. On that paper, written in neat, inarguable handwriting, was a role for that person to perform. Supposedly, some of the 'random' roles were much more specific than others, and of course it was up to fate which role went to whom.
If that's the case, Ichigo reflected with a scowl, I think I should be concerned.
"Ichigo, are you alright?" Orihime asked, concern lacing her gentle voice as she settled herself in the now-empty seat beside him.
Ichigo looked up, not realizing he was glaring at the paper, and his expression softened slightly as he said, "I'm fine."
Suddenly Keigo was looming over them, leaning over a desk to be properly heard, as he asked, "So what'd you get? Chizuru gets to be an athlete, it's so not fair!"
"You could never pull of an athlete, anyway, Mr. Asano," Mizuiro interrupted as he paused beside Ichigo's desk, on his way to his partner's seat across the room.
Ignoring their joking, Orihime turned her attention to Chad and his partner – Tatsuki – who were situated in a pair of desks behind Ichigo's. Curiously, she asked, "What did you guys get?"
"College professor," Chad replied quietly.
"What did you guys get, Orihime?" Tatsuki asked, leaning forward so that she didn't have to talk loudly.
Orihime blinked, realizing she still didn't know, and turned back to Ichigo as she said, "I don't know, actually…." Before she could ask, however, Mizuiro spoke up again.
Raising an eyebrow at Ichigo, Mizuiro asked curiously, "What's the matter with you, anyway? Did you get a bad one?"
"Yeah, you never answered me!" Keigo declared loudly. "What'd you guys get? I bet it's something cool, like an astronaut!"
Ichigo's trademark scowl deepened again as his fist curled around the slip of paper. He really didn't want to answer them. It's bad enough they'll have to find out when we do these stupid skits.
"Ichigo?" Orihime asked, moving out of her borrowed desk and crouching down beside his so that she could rest her elbows on the desktop. "Are you sure you're okay?"
He sighed. He wasn't getting out of it and he knew it. No sense in putting it off. Resignation apparent in his voice, he grumbled, "I'm a frog."
Silence stretched for a long moment, before Keigo burst into loud fits of laughter. "A frog? That's rich! Man, Ichigo, I don't have any idea how you're gonna pull that off with your bright orange – ow!"
Scowling even more, Ichigo subtly moved his foot off of Keigo's and glared at his desk. "Shut up, Keigo."
"I wouldn't worry so much about it, Ichigo," Mizuiro offered helpfully. "I heard Miyako got parrot, so you won't be the only creature at least."
"Yeah, but a parrot's way cooler than a frog," Keigo pointed out immediately.
Orihime suddenly sucked in a breath and shot to her feet, exclaiming, "Oh!"
Ichigo's attention shot back to Orihime instantly, protective concern settling heavily over him. He belatedly noticed that Chad, Tatsuki, and Uryuu had also turned their attention to her.
Before anyone could say anything, Orihime grabbed Ichigo's upper arm and said excitedly, "I know what we can do! I've already got it all figured out!" She was tugging on his arm urgently as she spoke, and her gray eyes were dancing with an excitement that matched her tone.
Forcing himself to calm back down at her words, Ichigo allowed her to pull him from his desk as he asked, "Alright, but, where are we going?"
"Over there," Orihime replied, turning and pointing to a group of empty desks in the back of the room even as she began navigating their way towards them. "I don't want anyone copying us!"
Ichigo couldn't quite stop the small smile that tipped his lips up at her words – nor could he stop the faint blush that rose to his cheeks as her hand slid down his arm until she was loosely grasping his wrist. He doubted she realized what she'd just done, but he certainly didn't mind as much as he should have, so he stayed silent and allowed her to lead him.
When they were seated in the far back corner, as apart from the class as they could be – there were two seats between Ichigo and Chad – Orihime dug out her notebook and flipped it easily to a blank page. Well, blank except for a small doodle in an upper corner that looked like one of her hairpins loosely surrounded by some sort of ribbon or wrapping.
"So, what's this inspiration you had?" Ichigo asked hesitantly. He wasn't completely sure if he should be relieved or concerned that it had been so easy for her to find an inspiration that involved him being a frog.
"Well, if you have to be a frog," Orihime began with a bright smile, "then we have the perfect opportunity to do a little mini-fairytale!"
Ichigo faltered. A…fairytale? He had absolutely no idea how to react to that, but he knew he had to say something, so, finally, he mumbled, "What do you mean, exactly?"
Orihime replied easily, saying, "Well, technically, you don't have to be a frog for the entireskit – just for part of it. So, what if you start off as the frog, but end up as the handsome prince?" Her face was a noticeable shade of pink by the time she was done, as she realized what she was really suggesting. Maybe I didn't really think this one all the way through… she thought as her face heated.
Orihime's wasn't the only face that was quickly turning crimson as the full weight of her proposition settled in. Ichigo had never been one for fairytales as a child, but Yuzu was still fascinated by the magic of them, so he couldn't quite claim ignorance, either. And so far as he knew, there was only one way for a frog to become a prince.
He swallowed thickly before forcing himself to respond to her suggestion verbally. With a faint nod of his head, he mumbled, "Okay…did you, uh, have a story in mind?"
Looking down as she began fiddling with her pencil, Orihime stammered, "Um, w-well, I would…I'll have to be the p-princess, and I was thinking we could make the, uh, frog part kind of…short."
Her face flushed even more and she wrapped both hands around the pencil, refusing to meet his gaze as she drew a breath and quickly continued. "And maybe the rest could be something about them – us – getting to know each other, or, um, a short little back-story, or something. I mean, we won't really have the time for a big plot or anything."
"That sounds good," Ichigo said when she had finished. His frown deepened as he mentally cursed himself for allowing his mind to wander off-topic. It wasn't that he'd tuned her out; he'd heard every word she'd said. It was just that the idea of kissing her – or being kissed by her, as it were – had created a detour in his mind that his imagination had practically tripped over itself to run down. It's a skit for kids for god's sake! he reprimanded himself harshly.
Orihime perked up a bit at his approval, daring to lift her gaze back to his, though she wasn't quite confident enough yet to release the pencil. "Y-you think it'll work?"
"Sure," Ichigo replied, adding a half shrug of nonchalance as he smiled briefly at her. The idea might hold a lot of awkward potential, but it would fit their requirements, and as he remembered her initial excitement about it, he knew he couldn't deny her. Orihime's bright smile was worth all the embarrassment in the world to him.
After a moment, Orihime smiled again, her blush fading away almost entirely. "Now we have to figure out the costumes; I think that'll be harder than working out the script."
"Don't worry about my costume," Ichigo said, not wanting to put any unnecessary pressure on her. "It's my responsibility to figure that out."
"Oh, but that wouldn't be fair," Orihime insisted, pouting subconsciously. "Especially since you'll need two!"
"Two?" Ichigo repeated dumbly. Then it dawned on him, and he immediately felt like an idiot. "Oh, right, I'll need a prince costume, too."
Orihime nodded. "Exactly." Her eyes widened a heartbeat later, an idea clearly dawning on her, and she quickly added, "Oh! What if we do like a fake-frog costume? Then it would be more like one and a half!"
Curious now, Ichigo lifted an eyebrow. "Fake-frog costume?"
"Yes! You could have like frog-feet for your hands when you're crouching down, and a frog hoodie sort of thing, with a green cape or something to cover your back! Then, while you're crouched, you'll look froggie enough, and it'll be an easy change into your prince outfit!"
"That…could work," Ichigo realized after a moment. He doubted he would enjoy crouching in his 'frog pose' for multiple minutes, but he had no doubt that he could do it. "And I'd just have the other outfit underneath, right?"
Nodding exuberantly, Orihime replied, "That's exactly what I was thinking!"
"Alright," Ichigo said, shifting in his borrowed seat so that he could lean forward and rest his elbows on the desk. "Now what about your costume?"
"Oh," Orihime began, waving one hand dismissively, "don't worry about that, I'm not at all worried! I've got a really pretty dress that I never wear, and I'm pretty sure it'd still fit, so I'll just wear that."
Of course, Ichigo thought with amusement. Gesturing lazily to the still-blank notebook, he said, "I guess we should start on the script, then?"
"Right!" Orihime agreed immediately, picking up the pencil she'd since forgotten about and turning her attention to the blank paper before her.
Finding a decent 'fake-frog' costume had proven to be more difficult than Ichigo had initially anticipated, and though they had pushed ahead with their idea after their script had been approved, the costume continued to elude him. Fortunately, by the time he showed up at Orihime's apartment the night before the Karakura Elementary Festival for their final (and full) rehearsal, he had both of his costumes in hand.
He swallowed heavily as he waited for Orihime to open the door. They'd done several rehearsals already over the past couple of weeks, and he wasn't too worried that he'd forgotten his lines. His worry came more from that fact that none of their previous rehearsals had been whole rehearsals. Before, they had isolated scenes and focused on them individually, slowly merging two or three together at a time. And when that scene had come up, they had both shied away from actually acting it out, choosing instead to talk about what they would do.
She'll kiss me, I'll stand up slowly, and she'll untie my stupid frog-cape so it falls off, he told himself. It was such a simple plan; it wasn't like they were planning anything indecent. It was literally supposed to be lip contact.
As she opened the door to him, a new realization dawned on him. If tonight was their first full rehearsal, then tonight would be their first kiss. Crap.
"Hi, Ichigo!" Orihime greeted cheerily, her familiar, bright smile lighting up her face.
Fighting desperately against the heat that suddenly threatened to overtake his face, Ichigo managed, "Hey, Orihime."
She quickly ushered him inside, shutting the door behind him. They made small talk as they moved to her living room, Ichigo kicking off his shoes by the door before following her.
"I made some cookies to snack on," Orihime informed him. "I wasn't sure if you'd have eaten dinner or not first, so I made a bunch, and I've got real food, too, if you're hungry."
"The cookies will be plenty," Ichigo assured her, cringing inwardly. "Thanks." He had eaten first, but knowing she'd gone out of her way to make them for that night meant he would dutifully eat several anyway. It'll make her happy, he told himself.
"Have you had any luck with the frog costume?" Orihime asked as she settled herself comfortably on the floor opposite him.
Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Ichigo said, "Oh, yeah, actually. I have it here." As he spoke, he held up the duffel he'd brought, which contained his costumes, and reached inside. An instant later, he pulled out a large mass of green fabric. When it was fully extracted, he used both hands to hold it out for her inspection.
It was a lot like Orihime had originally described, with a hood styled to look like a frog's head, attached to a simple green cape that would cover his whole back. It tied together at the throat, which would be easy to hide from the audience, and easy to remove quickly during the skit.
"Oh, wow!" Orihime exclaimed, leaning forward to run her hands over the fabric. It was smooth, and strangely soft, though it wasn't at all plushy. "It's perfect! Does it fit?"
"Yeah," Ichigo nodded.
Sitting back as he lowered the costume, Orihime tilted her head ever-so-slightly and asked, "Where did you finally find it?"
Ichigo felt his face heating again and swore silently. He'd known she'd ask, of course, but he hated having to admit it almost as much as he'd hated having to do it. Frowning, he replied, "Actually, I had to ask Uryuu to make it for me."
Realization dawned in her gray orbs, and she drew in a breath, exclaiming, "That was a great idea! I can't believe I didn't think of it!"
Her innocent reaction snuffed out his irritation instantly, and he felt his expression softening again as he replied, "Don't feel bad; I didn't think of it, either, until Monday."
"Well, it's good you did, though!" Orihime declared happily.
"Yeah," Ichigo relented. Their grades – not to mention Orihime's ever-increasing excitement over the skit – were certainly more important than his pride.
"So, then," Orihime began, suddenly fidgeting and clutching tightly to the fabric of her knee-length floral skirt, "should we get started?"
Taking in a breath, Ichigo forced himself to nod. "Yeah, I guess we should."
Nodding, Orihime pushed herself to her feet before pausing, her cheeks already flushed, and asking, "Um, would you like to change in my room, or the bathroom?"
Changing in Orihime's bedroom sounded disturbingly tempting, but Ichigo shoved the frighteningly perverted thought from his mind and said, "The bathroom's fine."
"Alright," she said. "I'll just, um, go get changed, then…." With a self-conscious laugh, she turned and quickly walked into her bedroom, her face burning.
Ichigo swallowed heavily, not for the first time that night, and propelled himself to his feet. When the hell did I turn into such a damned pervert, anyway? he wondered as he headed to her bathroom, duffel bag in hand. Deciding that he'd been doomed from birth thanks to his father, Ichigo tried in vain to turn his thoughts down another road as he locked the door behind himself self-consciously.
Deciding he would much rather be locked in a death match with Kenpachi, Ichigo reluctantly exited the bathroom. He didn't have a problem with his main costume – except, perhaps, for the high-collar – as it consisted of simple, cream-colored dress pants, a slightly uncomfortable pair of shiny black shoes, and a deep blue button-up dress shirt. The clothes sort of made his skin itch, but it was a discomfort he could tolerate. No, it was, as expected, the fake-frog suit that had him suddenly missing the psychotic captain of Squad Eleven.
So, holding the oversized frog-feet gloves in one hand, Ichigo dragged himself out of Orihime's bathroom and trudged into her living room. This is going to be one of those things I'll never live down, he reflected silently as he dropped his duffel onto the far corner of the sofa.
Before he could sit, however, the door to Orihime's bedroom opened and she stepped out, dressed in her princess costume.
Automatically, he looked over, and his heart slammed against his ribcage as he sucked in a sharp breath. He had always known she was attractive, though he had only really started seeing her beauty after he'd found her in Hueco Mundo. But now he was sure that, even if that had never happened, his stubborn brain wouldn't have been able to ignore the sight that stood before him.
Her face was flushed slightly as she smiled at him, one hand curling subconsciously into her ankle-length skirt. Her hair was down in its usual style, Shun Shun Rikka hairpins firmly in place. The dress she wore was pink, mostly a soft, faded shade, but a hot pink sash was wrapped around her waist, tied at the small of her back by a bow. The skirt was long, and billowed out around her from beneath the sash. The top was tighter, which accentuated her generous curves, and her off-the-shoulder sleeves only helped to emphasize the cleavage that peeked out over the top of the fabric, leaving her shoulders and collar completely bare.
Trying to remember how to breathe properly, Ichigo did his best not to let his gaze linger beneath her face, but he was ashamed to admit it was a rather difficult goal to achieve. The sight of all that bare skin – which, realistically, wasn't all that much – had his mouth going dry as he found himself wondering what it tasted like. Suddenly all he wanted was to run his hands, his lips, his tongue, over her soft-looking skin.
This…is going to be harder than I thought, he realized.
"H-how do I look?" Orihime asked after a moment, not sure what to make of the unusual look that had darkened his eyes ever-so-slightly as he'd taken in her appearance. "Do you think this will work?"
He had to swallow, licking his lips subconsciously, just to find his voice again at her question. Offering her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, Ichigo replied, "Yeah. You look…like a princess." It was true, after all, even if that hadn't exactly been the first – or second – response he'd thought of. Damn fucking hormones, he cursed inwardly.
The uncertainty that had clouded her expression vanished at his words and she smiled brightly once again. "So, are you ready to start?"
Feeling his cheeks flushing despite his best efforts, Ichigo grunted something along the lines of 'yeah,' and reluctantly reached back, lifting the frog-hood over his head. It fell over his whole head, covering his orange hair and leaving most of his face in shadow – for which, at the moment, Ichigo was actually grateful.
"If it makes you feel any better," Orihime began as they moved into 'position,' "you're the best looking frog I've ever seen."
Ichigo paused and looked over at her, unsurprised to see her face covered in a crimson blush, and after a moment he smiled softly and said, "Yeah, a little."
Once they were standing several feet back from her couch – which was serving as their audience – Ichigo heaved an almost-silent sigh and dropped down, resting on his haunches. He situated himself sideways, facing Orihime instead of the couch, and slipped his hands into the gloves before resting them, fingers splayed, flat on the floor. He pulled his arms as close to his body as he could, so that his arms were mostly obscured by the side of the cape and his legs, which were bent at the knees. Hunching his shoulders a little, he bowed his head and let his eyes drop shut as he silently awaited the inevitable. Here we go.
Orihime paused as she watched Ichigo situate himself. Even she had to admit that the frog thing was a little ridiculous, though she would never admit it aloud. When he was ready, she took several steps backward and dragged in a breath. This was either the most brilliant, or most idiotic idea I've ever had, she said to herself, not for the first time, as she fought to suppress her nerves long enough to remember her lines.
Ichigo waited, focusing on not fidgeting, while Orihime launched into the rehearsal.
She took a few steps toward him before sucking in an exaggerated breath and exclaiming, "Oh! Hello there, little frog."
Obediently, Ichigo lifted his head a little, tilting it slightly and, cursing his rotten luck, said, "Ribbit…."
With a smile, Orihime cautiously approached him as she asked, "Would you mind if I sit with you? I could really use a little company."
Releasing another, quieter, "Ribbit," Ichigo lowered his head again.
"Oh, thank you!" Orihime cried, taking the final step that put her beside him, before she sat and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. Giving him another smile, she turned her attention to the couch and launched into a brief monologue about the troubles she, being a princess, was having.
"And on top of all of that," Orihime continued, turning to look again at Ichigo as her face shifted to a sad expression, "now I'm to be married to a man I don't love! Oh, if only I could find my true prince charming, I could marry him instead!" Wistfully, she sighed and let her chin rest on her arms, facing forward again. "I know he's out there somewhere, Mr. Frog. I can feel it, with every fiber of my soul, and if I could only meet him, all would be well again."
Ichigo waited a moment, before purposefully shifting his hands and releasing another humiliating, "Ribbit, ribbit."
Orihime blinked and looked over at him again, and silence stretched, both of their faces slowly heating up, and her eyes went wide as she finally said, "Wait! All of this time, could it be, my salvation has been right before me? Tell me, please, Mr. Frog, are you…could you be him?"
Swallowing thickly, Ichigo rumbled, "Ribbit," and lifted his head to look into her eyes.
Another silence stretched and Orihime slowly, and deliberately, turned to face him, lifting her hands to cup the sides of his face as she cautiously leaned in. Her face was an unhealthy shade of crimson by the time her eyes fluttered closed.
Ichigo had to lock his muscles in place to keep from reaching out to her, the sudden urge to pull her to him nearly overwhelming. He knew his face was probably about as red as hers, but the moment her lips touched his, he no longer cared.
Her lips pressed tentatively against his, soft and disturbingly sweet, and Ichigo knew he had a problem. He couldn't help but kiss her back, barely remembering that he was supposed to be moving.
After a moment, they both began to stand slowly, and Ichigo's frog gloves slid easily off of his hands. The moment his hands were free, he raised them and planted them firmly on her hips, even as her own hands slid down his jaw and easily untied the collar of his cape. Sliding her arms around his shoulders, as they'd planned, the fake-frog costume fluttered uselessly to the floor.
This was the part where they were supposed to pull away, and he was supposed to tell her about how his jealous uncle had cast a spell on him, and how they must be meant for each other, since she was able to break the curse. Then they were supposed to talk for a couple of minutes, before walking together 'off-stage', hand in hand. That was what they were supposed to be doing.
Instead, Orihime tightened her hold on him, burying her fingers in his hair as his arms wound tightly around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She gasped when his tongue slipped out and trailed along her lips provocatively, before slipping inside her mouth. She greeted him almost tentatively, but quickly grew more bold as their tongues danced and the kiss deepened.
His hands were splayed over her back, the fingers of one dancing across the bare flesh of her back, beneath her long hair. The feel of her skin against his, on top of their increasingly heated kiss, had him quickly losing all control. Her body fit against his perfectly, and that had not escaped his notice; neither did the small moan of pleasure that slipped past her lips as he angled his head to kiss her more thoroughly.
There was only one thing Ichigo Kurosaki wanted in that moment, and that was the woman he already held in his arms. And he wanted her quite desperately, with a hunger he hadn't realized was possible.
Acting purely on instinct, Ichigo pulled his lips from hers and trailed hot kisses along her jaw, down the sleek line of her throat, before clamping his lips over the juncture at the base of her neck and sucking lightly.
Orihime gasped at the marvelous sensations rolling through her, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and arching her neck when his lips laid siege to her throat. As her eyes fluttered shut again, her body all but melting into his, she realized somewhere in the back of her mind that this was exactly what she'd always dreamed of. Or, at least, it was the start of something she'd always dreamt of.
Having trailed his kisses now all the way to her collar bone, and then across the exposed skin of her shoulder, Ichigo finally lifted his head, looking her in the eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Then he took a deep breath through his nose and let his forehead rest against hers.
"I-Ichigo," Orihime breathed, unable or unwilling to actually break from his steady gaze.
"I'm sorry," Ichigo interrupted softly, not actually lifting his head. "I shouldn't have let myself lose control like that, Orihime."
"No!" Orihime exclaimed, curling her fingers into his shirt. "Don't apologize. I…I liked it," she admitted sheepishly, finally breaking eye contact as her face flushed again.
Ichigo smiled softly and lifted his head enough to press his lips to her forehead. Lifting one hand, he cupped the back of her head and leaned down, so that his lips were lightly brushing the shell of her ear, and whispered, "That's good, because I can't promise I won't do it again."
Orihime giggled softly against him, releasing his shirt and looping her arms around his shoulders once more, but loosely this time. "You know, we might get in trouble if you kiss me like that tomorrow."
Chuckling, Ichigo let his cheek rest lightly against her temple and replied, "Yeah, I'll try to remember that."
Neither said anything for a long minute, simply enjoying having the other in their arms.
Ichigo knew there were a few things he really should be saying, but, deciding there was something else that they should be doing, he instead said, "You wanna try finishing the rehearsal?"
Orihime's eyes widened as she realized she had, somehow, completely forgotten about the rehearsal. "Oh!" she exclaimed, pulling back enough to see his face again. "I suppose we should, shouldn't we?"
Ichigo shrugged as he let his hands fall back to her hips. "Probably," he admitted.
Nodding, Orihime's cheeks flushed again faintly as she asked, "Where, um, where should we-?"
"How 'bout where we left off?" Ichigo suggested, readjusting their positions until they were again sideways to their imaginary audience. Keeping his hands on her hips, he leaned down until their noses were nearly touching, and murmured, "Here?"
"Mhm," Orihime replied breathlessly, returning her hands to his strong shoulders.
His lips quirked up ever-so-slightly, and he closed the distance between them, stealing a brief kiss from her swollen lips.
When they parted again, Orihime licked her lips and took a breath before obediently launching back into their skit.
They had barreled through the rest of their rehearsal, before separating in order to change out of their costumes. While he was slipping back into his street clothes, Ichigo couldn't help but think of Orihime, stepping out of her beautiful pink princess dress, just a handful of feet away. As if I'm not having enough problems, he grunted to himself as he tugged on his jeans. After shrugging into his t-shirt, he opted to toss his zip-up sweater in the duffel, where he'd shoved his costumes, and he quietly exited the bathroom.
As he'd expected, Orihime was still changing, so he calmly deposited his duffel beside the door before returning to the living room, intending to take a seat on the couch. However, as he walked around the sofa, he paused. His paranoia radar was twitching in his mind; something was wrong. And, in the silence, he heard it – the faint, muffled sound of a sob. It was coming from Orihime's room.
Concern washing over him, Ichigo moved quickly to her bedroom door, but forced himself not to simply throw it open. He wasn't sensing an actual threat, so whatever was wrong, he doubted she was hurt. At least physically.
"Orihime?" he called through the door, letting his forehead rest on the solid object between them.
There was a pause, another unsuccessfully muffled sniffle, and then Orihime called out, "Yes?" Though she was clearly trying to hide the fact that she was crying, her voice was weak and slightly choked.
His frown deepening, Ichigo took a breath and gently asked, "What's wrong?"
"W-why would anything be wrong?" she stammered weakly. "I'm almost decent; I'll be out in just a minute, Ichigo."
The hand he'd had resting on the door curled into a fist, but instead of calling her out, he heaved a breath and said, "Alright." Then he forced himself to step back from her door, but he didn't go far, deciding to rest against the wall just off to the side instead of waiting on the couch.
He wasn't waiting long, as Orihime opened her door less than a minute later. She gasped when she saw him waiting right beside her door. "Ichigo!" she exclaimed, startled.
He frowned at the tear-stains on her cheeks. She hadn't cried enough, at least, for her eyes to be red – at least not yet – but just the knowledge that she'd been upset enough to cry, with him only a dozen feet away, had him cursing at the world in his head. When he spoke, however, he kept his voice gentle and allowed the concern to leak through. "Orihime, tell me why you were crying. Are you alright?"
"I…" Orihime began, obviously wanting to simply deny her emotional state. Breaking from his gaze, she let her gray eyes fall onto her carpet and softly admitted, "I'm sorry, Ichigo. Thank you for not being mad at me, but I understand if you are…and I-I promise not to tell Rukia about…what happened."
She paused, though Ichigo could tell she wasn't done, but he didn't intend to let her finish. It didn't take a genius to figure out what she was clearly thinking, and there was no way in hell he was going to let her continue to think it. He quietly pushed off the wall and stepped up to her, using the tip of one index finger to tilt her chin up until their eyes met again. His heart clenched painfully at the tears pooling behind her usually dancing gray orbs.
"No, Hime," he whispered, using his free thumb to wipe away a tear as it broke free from her eyes. "I'm sorry. I had no idea you thought there was something between Rukia and me. Now I need you to listen to me; I don't have any special feelings for Rukia. She's one of my best friends, but her heart belongs to that idiot Renji, and, more importantly…"
Here he paused, letting his fingers trail along her jaw until he had loosely looped them through her long hair. Making sure her eyes were still focused on him, he said, "My heart has always been with you. So please don't be upset, and don't think you've done something unforgivable; it's completely not necessary."
Gray eyes wide, Orihime dragged in a ragged breath, and her dejected frown began to return to the smile he loved so much as she hesitantly said, "Y-you…. Really?"
With a faint chuckle, Ichigo curved his other arm around her waist loosely and replied, "Yes, Orihime. I love you. I've known it for a while now, I just…wasn't sure how to say it."
"Oh, Ichigo!" Orihime exclaimed, all traces of her sadness vanishing as she suddenly threw her arms around his neck and held on tight. Nuzzling her face against his shoulder, she murmured, "I love you, too, Ichigo! You mean…everything to me."
Ichigo's loose hold on her tightened as he returned the embrace, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her floral scent as he replied, "I'm so sorry, Hime. I never meant to make you cry."
"It's alright," Orihime whispered, squeezing him briefly before pulling back to look into his serious brown eyes. "I'll forgive you on one condition." Her gray eyes sparkled with something akin to mischief as he raised a silent eyebrow, and she added, "Keep calling me 'Hime.' I like it."
He smirked, then, and his voice was thick when he replied, "And here I thought you were gonna insist on something challenging." Pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose, he added, "It's a deal, then, Hime."
Silence stretched for a moment, before they both smiled softly and leaned in for a long, sensual kiss. His lips moved against hers, slowly at first, but when she parted her lips to allow him entrance again, the kiss became heated and hungry. She moaned against his lips as he crushed her body to his, her fingernails digging into his scalp.
They were both breathing heavily when their lips parted again, and Ichigo turned, guiding her further into her living room. He tugged her down beside him as soon as he'd settled on the couch, and she willingly curled against his side, tucking herself beneath his toned arm and using his strong shoulder as a headrest.
"Just for the record," Ichigo said after a long moment of comfortable silence, "I'm, uh, not really all that familiar with dating so…you'll have to bear with me, I guess."
Orihime giggled and loosely curled her fingers in his shirt. "Well, I'm not all that familiar with dating, either, so I guess that makes us even." She paused thoughtfully before adding, "We can just take each other out for dinner and stuff, and then-"
"Absolutely not," Ichigo interrupted firmly. "I'll take you out, wherever we're going, but not the other way around."
Lifting her head, Orihime said, "But, that's hardly fair, Ichigo! Why not let me pay sometimes?"
"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I did that?" Ichigo returned, smirking slightly at her subconscious pout.
Orihime scoffed and flicked his chest, saying, "Oh, come on, Ichigo! It's the 21st Century, it's not a big deal for the girl to pay sometimes!"
"Yeah, well, maybe there're some traditions that shouldn't be completely forgotten," Ichigo grumbled, rolling his eyes and pulling her back against him so that he could place a kiss on the crown of her head.
Sighing against him, Orihime snuggled closer as she said, "Fine, fine, you win. But you better promise to admit it if you ever can't afford something, okay?"
Holding her tightly against his chest, Ichigo leaned his head down and murmured, "I promise, Hime."
Ichigo was walking down the hall, towards his classroom, when he was joined by Keigo, Mizuiro, and Chad. After clothes-lining Keigo, he grunted a greeting to the others and continued on, knowing they'd keep up.
"So, Ichigo, are you and Orihime ready for the festival this afternoon?" Mizuiro asked curiously, all the while never looking up from his cell phone.
Successfully fighting away the heat that had threatened to stain his cheeks, Ichigo replied, "Yeah, I guess."
"Hey, how come you still haven't told us what you're doing, anyway?" Keigo demanded.
"'Cause you'll find out soon enough all on your own," Ichigo retorted easily.
As Keigo opened his mouth to argue the point, Mizuiro cut in calmly, saying, "You haven't told us about your skit, either, Mr. Asano."
Keigo slumped dramatically. "That's because it's too humiliating. And I thought I told you to stop calling me that!"
Before anyone could comment, a familiar female voice called out from behind them. "Ichigo! Chad!"
They all stopped and turned, and Ichigo's scowl transformed into a faint smile as his new girlfriend ran to catch up with them. He hadn't left her apartment until after ten o'clock the previous night, and he was slightly amazed at how much he had missed her in the hours since.
"Good morning, Orihime!" Keigo greeted her loudly.
Orihime smiled kindly. "Good morning, guys!"
Mizuiro and Chad both greeted her calmly, and Orihime turned her full attention to Ichigo. "Good morning, Ichigo."
They hadn't discussed how to handle their school interaction, but Ichigo decided that trying to pretend there was nothing different between them would be impossible, so he stepped up to her and cupped her face with his free hand, leaning down to briefly cover her lips with his before he pulled back and murmured, "Good morning, Hime."
She blushed but didn't pull away, smiling sheepishly when he then released her face to wrap his hand around hers.
Behind them, Keigo began spluttering in shock. "Wh-what was that? When did this happen?"
"I'd say that's not really your business, Mr. Asano," Mizuiro replied calmly, before smiling at Ichigo and adding, "but congratulations, Ichigo."
Ichigo rolled his eyes as he began leading the way to class. "Shut up, you two."
As they approached the classroom door, Keigo spoke up again. "In case you haven't thought of this, Ichigo…Tatsuki's probably gonna castrate you."
Despite himself, Ichigo blanched. He didn't actually believe Tatsuki would react that violently, but she would surely have something to say about his and Orihime's relationship.
Orihime laughed lightly. "Don't be silly, Keigo! Tatsuki won't hurt him!"
"That will depend entirely on how he answers a few simple questions," Tatsuki suddenly declared from behind them as Mizuiro slid the door open.
"Run for your life!" Keigo whispered dramatically to Ichigo as he ran past him, into the comparative safety of the classroom.
"Have a minute to talk, Kurosaki?" Tatsuki inquired, crossing her arms over her chest.
Ichigo sighed and gave Orihime's hand a gentle squeeze, saying, "I'll be in in a minute, okay?"
"Sure," Orihime said with a smile, turning a smile to Tatsuki in a silent greeting, before she and Chad continued into class.
Once they were inside, Tatsuki and Ichigo walked a little away to have their 'talk,' which, as Ichigo had suspected, did not involve castration.
The festival was a huge success. In fact, the only thing Ichigo found himself complaining about by the end of it was the fact that his father, much to his dismay, had decided to take advantage of the fact that it was open to the public. Which meant that, in addition to being teased about having to be a frog, he was going to be inundated with questions and innuendos about his relationship with Orihime. I'll have to get a lock on my door, he thought fleetingly as he considered his father's bizarre, invasive habits. Not that it'll help.
"It was a hit!" Orihime squealed happily as she ran up to him, still dressed in her princess outfit.
He couldn't help but grin at her enthusiasm, her positive energy still as infectious as always. When she reached him, he wrapped her in his embrace and held her close for a long minute. "Of course it was," he said softly.
She pulled back, snatching one of his hands and tugging him towards the stage as she said, "Oh! We're supposed to go back up for the big bow!"
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the image of their entire high school class, in all their various get-ups, bowing on stage for all of the children and families, Ichigo allowed her to lead him back to the stage. At least I don't have to wear the frog suit, he reminded himself.
Since the next day was a Saturday, Ichigo decided to surprise Orihime with their first date. He wasn't entirely sure where the inspiration had come from, but he was wholly willing to embrace it, and so late Saturday morning, Ichigo found himself once again standing on Orihime's doorstep.
Her gray eyes lit up with surprise and a smile when she saw him standing there. "Ichigo!" Concern almost immediately overtook her expression, and she quickly asked, "Is everything okay?"
He smiled reassuringly and reached out with one hand, lightly running his fingertips across her cheek and tracing her lower lip with his thumb as he said, "Everything's fine, Hime. Are you busy today?"
She blinked in surprised confusion at his question, but took only a minute before replying. "Um, no, I don't think so. Why do you ask?"
Letting his hand fall back to his side, he said, "Well, the weather's supposed to good today, so I thought we could go out. Dinner and a movie seemed a little cliché, so I bought a few things for a picnic." As he spoke, he gestured to the ground beside his feet, where a medium-sized ice chest was resting.
Orihime sucked in a breath and her eyes immediately began dancing with happiness, even as a bright smile lit up her face. "I'll be ready in just a minute!" she exclaimed, before vanishing back inside her apartment and leaving the door wide-open.
Chuckling to himself, Ichigo looped his thumbs into his pockets and prepared to wait for her. He barely made out an auburn-haired blur as she dashed from her kitchen to her bedroom – or so he assumed, since he couldn't quite see her.
She was standing before him again barely two minutes later, still cramming her feet into her sandals even as she turned to lock the door. When those tasks were accomplished, she dropped her keys into her purse and turned to him, her trademark smile still shining brightly. "Ready!"
A mischievous smirk curving his lips, Ichigo stepped into her, pulling his hands from his pockets in order to wrap his arms around her slim waist as he murmured, "Hold on; there's something I want to do first."
Before she had time to reply, Ichigo had clamped his mouth over hers hungrily. She moaned into his kiss and willingly parted her lips for him before he'd even asked, simultaneously burying the fingers of one hand in his hair and the other curving around his neck, slipping beneath the collar of his shirt. Her nails scraped against his skin as he deepened the kiss, their tongues clashing in a passionate dance.
He didn't release her from his lips until he was sure her lungs were burning with their need for air, and then he shifted his hold just slightly, so that he could press a gentle, lingering kiss to her forehead. She shifted her grip on him as well, moving her arms so that they wrapped around his torso as she let her head rest on his shoulder while she dragged in ragged breaths.
Once they were both breathing normally again, Ichigo stepped back, loosening his hold until her hand was resting snugly in his. Then, with his other hand, he grabbed the handle on the ice chest and lifted it easily.
"Do you want help with that?" Orihime asked.
Ichigo looked back over at her with a curious expression on his face, lifting an orange eyebrow slowly before finally replying, "I think I can handle it, Hime."
She blinked, pausing, before bursting into laughter as she realized his point. Clamping her free hand over her mouth, she offered him a muffled, "I didn't even think about that!"
Giving her hand a squeeze, he said, "It's no big deal. Now c'mon, we have places to be today." Then he stepped forward, leading the way easily down the staircase that led to her apartment.
Once they were both on solid ground they began walking side-by-side, and Orihime started telling him all about the dream she'd had the night before. Ichigo listened intently, lacing his fingers through hers and silently hoping that the whole day would be as peaceful as the morning had been so far; he didn't want to spend it fighting hollows, he wanted to spend it with the woman he loved.
The End
A/N: Would you believe that this was originally supposed to be a short little drabble? It's amazing how the simplest of ideas can run away with you! Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it! Oh, and, bonus points to anyone who caught on to the source of my inspiration – it's right there if you know what to look for. LOL Thanks for reading, and please don't forget to review!