Kondo koso: Next time, by all means/definitely

Three weeks had passed since Renji and Rukia's wedding. Orihime had copies of the photographs made and put into albums for the new couple and the rest of their friends, which she had delivered almost ten days ago. Ichigo could barely speak without stuttering when she delivered his. He had been on edge ever since asking her to set aside some time to speak with him on the day of the wedding. Looking down at Orihime in that pretty pink dress, her looking back up at him with such perfect loveliness… He had choked the day of the wedding. He had been choking every day since; he had not yet contacted her to set up a time to meet.

He couldn't take it anymore. Today was the day. With trembling hands, he picked up his phone and tapped out a text:

Hey, Inoue. Remember back at the wedding when I told you I had something to talk to you about? Well, I haven't forgotten about it. Are you free later today? Let me know.

He took a deep, shuddering breath before quickly pressing send and dropping his phone on the bed as if it might electrocute him if he held onto it any longer.

Before it bounced twice it chimed.

He picked it up and looked to see she had already replied. His heart began to race as he opened the message, which read:

Hi Kurosaki-kun! I didn't forget either, but I'm really sorry, tonight is no good. Is there another time that will work?

Ichigo's eyebrow twitched as he wondered what could keep her busy enough to say no. He shrugged and decided to ask:

Oh, ok. Tomorrow would work for me, too. What are you doing tonight?

Her reply was nearly immediate:

Oh, great! I am free tomorrow. What time do you want to meet? As for tonight, I've been invited on a group date.

Ichigo's stomach dropped. He couldn't take a normal breath. He could hear his own heart beating in his ears. He replied:

Who invited you?

Chime.

Asano-kun! He organizes a lot of group dates and asks me a lot, but this is the first time I've agreed to go. I'm so nervous! Have you ever gone on a group date, Kurosaki-kun?

He was going to kill him.

Ring

"Hello Ichigooo!"

"What the hell do you think you're doing asking Inoue out for a group date?" Ichigo shouted down the phone, heat radiating from his spine and r's rolling in his speech.

"What do you mean, Ichigo? I ask everyone. I ask you every time!"

"You didn't ask me this time!"

There was a long pause here. Ichigo grew suspicious.

He growled, "Why didn't you invite me this time, Keigo?"

"Because you always say no!"

"Don't lie to me!"

"…because she said yes."

I knew it.

"I'm coming, Keigo."

"No, you can't, we've reached capacity."

"I'm coming, Keigo."

"No, Ichigo. You can't. And stop acting like she's going to break if she has some fun. She's twenty years old. You can't keep her preserved in a glass case. It's creepy that you want to."

"I never-"

Keigo cut him off. "Whatever, Ichigo. You've monopolized her attention for years. Give someone else a turn."

Over my dead body.

Click.

The group date was a large one. Ten men and ten women sat on opposite sides of two long tables in a private room of an economical Izakaya. Keigo acted as host, introducing everyone and giving a toast, before starting on some ice-breaking games.

Naturally, every man present had eyes for Orihime. She was quickly overwhelmed by all the attention and after about forty minutes made an excuse to go to the restroom. While she was there, she spoke to her reflection in the mirror, "I know this is not what we had in mind, but we can't stay shut in forever. Just try to relax and have fun. A sip of sake won't hurt you." She slapped her cheeks and nodded to herself in resolve, pivoting out of the restroom.

It was all for naught. On Orihime's way back to the group date, she was grabbed by the elbow from behind and pulled in the opposite direction. She yelped in surprise and turned around to see the back of Ichigo's distinctive head. "Kurosaki-kun! What are you doing here?" she hissed, trying not to alert anyone from the group date.

Ichigo remained silent as they made their way out of the Izakaya and onto the street. He continued to lead her further away. He had no plan. He had no idea where he was taking her. He only knew he couldn't leave her there, not with those vultures waiting to pounce on her. He had seen enough during the ten minutes he had watched them, from a crack in the sliding door, give her googly eyes and offer to pour her drinks and ask for her number. He had known she was popular in high school, but this was the first time he had ever seen how men acted around her when he wasn't there. What he saw made it very plain to him that the time to act was now.

He finally came to a stop about a block away, in a little pedestrian park in a quiet but well-lit intersection. Finally turning toward her, he opened his mouth, and again no sound came out. He stood there, mouth agape, looking every bit like a fish, as his face turned red and his mind froze.

Finally, she thawed it for him. Her eyes grew enormous and a sweet, slightly worried smile grew across her face. "What is it, Kurosaki-kun?"

His fish mouth opened and closed. Opened and closed. Opened and closed.

"Are you alright, Kurosaki-kun?"

Open. Close. Open.

She began to really worry. "Are you having a stroke, Kurosaki-kun?"

That snapped him out of it. "No, I am not having a stroke," he said, slightly offended until he reminded himself it was Orihime he was speaking to. He took a step closer to her and looked down at the space between them. He imagined their hands connecting, and felt a sharp pang in his chest that they weren't. "I wanted to talk to you about something, Inoue, and it can't wait. I just can't seem to find the words."

Orihime's heart started to race. She didn't dare hope. Still, it had to be something life-altering for him to be at such a loss for words. "Just start with what you're thinking," she offered helpfully.

Ichigo took her advice. "I'm thinking, I don't want to see what I saw in there ever again. I don't want the world to think you're alone, Inoue, because you're not," he paused and looked up at her eyes, hers filled with questions and his filled with fear. His hands trembled. He raised one a couple inches, then let it fall back to his side. He took a couple quick breaths, his fear filling his lungs and making his mouth taste sour. He swallowed hard and wiped his sweaty hands on the sides of his pockets before finally, using every fiber of strength in his being, raised them to take hers. "You're not alone, Inoue," he whispered, looking down at their joined hands for a long moment. Then he brought his eyes back to hers and said, softly, "If you'll let me, I won't let you be alone ever again."

Tears began to well in her eyes. She could not believe what she was hearing. Her chin began to bob and wrinkle involuntarily. Her mouth parted and her breath escaped her. She pulled in another ragged breath and furiously blinked before she looked down at his large hands clasped around her much smaller ones. "Does this mean…"

There was a pause that they would later describe to their children as one that felt like the lingering moment before the sun came over the horizon; that expanding, timeless, pregnant moment before glorious light breaks and color floods the world. It felt like that moment might last forever, until he finally, finally spoke.

"I love you, Inoue."

END