Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. This story, however, is all mine.
Pairings are Ichigo/Orihime (obviously) and a slight mentioning of Grimm/Hime. (I couldn't resist!) For some reason, I find Orihime oddly compelling to write about. (And I think Ichigo/Orihime is actually pretty adorable. And I really, really hate Ishida/Orihime.)
Author's note: (You don't have to read this, but I had to put it in) So. Originally, this story/oneshot was going to be something a little different. But when I begun writing, it somehow became a mesh of two Orihime-centric stories I had in mind. Originally, I was going to call it 'Walking among buttecups' because I got it into my head that Buttercups meant oblivion. (Nope, poppies mean oblivion. Duh, me.) So with my motif thrown off, I had to rework my angle a little bit. I'm pretty pleased with the result, since I worked hard on this story, so I hope you are as well.
Enjoy!
Even though it was her apartment, one that she had been living in for a long time, the place suddenly seemed alien to Orihime.
It bothered her how much she didn't seem to fit into her own apartment. She had already smashed one of her clocks. The ticking got on her nerves, because it seemed so loud in the quiet room, so loud and intrusive. The furniture is not dusty like she thought it might be- she supposed Rangiku had made herself at home and filled the space Orihime left nicely enough. Probably better, because she had her white-haired taicho to bicker with.
This house does not need Orihime anymore.
Orihime takes to wondering. She just can't help herself. She stays out of her apartment more and more, often being outside for hours at a time, regardless of the weather. Just the fact that she can walk where she pleases, feel the sun on her skin or the rain soaking her hair, is good enough reason for her.
It feels like so long since she was free to go where she wished, without being questioned or followed. She finds solace in nature, even finding a somewhat secluded field to wonder in, the grass long and undisturbed, flowers poking their way through the earth. Reaching out toward the sun. She has even fallen asleep under a tree a few times, often waking up with a jolt and realising that she isn't where she's supposed to be.
Trouble is, she doesn't know where she IS meant to be.
She's lost interest in the human world now, too. No matter how hard she tries; she just can't seem to slot back into her old life. Everything that she once considered important now seems so petty and trivial. At school, her grades began to slide and she sinks uncontrollably into a state of mind-numbing indifference.
Tatsuki tries her best to initiate conversation, but Orihime can't be Orihime anymore. In fact, she has no idea how she managed it in the first place. To be happy and giggly and carefree. It seems so much of an effort to smile, let alone laugh the way she once used to. Other people seem to sense it, they notice Orihime has changed after her mysterious absence, and stay away. Rumours fly around behind her back, like vultures over a fresh kill, but she doesn't care.
She doesn't care.
The teacher scolds Orihime for her extended, unexplained absence, her slowly sliding grades. Her voice fades into a mosquito whine, and all Orihime has to do is look guilty and keep her head down. But truthfully, she couldn't care less. She wants to laugh in this woman's face, she wants to do something dramatic like push her desk over or rip up her test sheet, because all of this just does not feel real.
It doesn't MATTER. Orihime wants to say, What good did studying do me, when Sado-kun nearly lost an arm? What purpose did knowing chemistry serve when Kurosaki-kun fought Grimmjow, Nnoitra and Ulquiorra? How could any of this help me now?
When her eyes dart out to the rest of the class, she can't help noticing Ichigo's oddly stiff posture, like a cat watching a bird. He's expecting her to say something, at least muster a half-hearted excuse, but Orihime can't do it. Her mouth is dry, her tongue feeling thick and furry in her mouth, and she doesn't know what to say. If she tried to explain now, she might just start screaming.
Eventually, however, the teacher runs out of steam and even looks a little guilty. An awkward silence descends. Orihime slowly raises her head, looking at a spot on the board that is scuffed, fixated on it. The teacher won't meet her eyes and Orihime refuses to speak first.
"Well, take your seat, Inoue-san." the teacher says eventually, somewhat stiffly, and Orihime bows and sits down. When she swings her head to the left, Ichigo has looked away.
When the teacher returns to the board, her back to the class, Orihime inks a chain around her wrist.
Ichigo watches her.
He can't seem to stop himself. Everywhere he goes, he seems to be keeping an eye out for a waterfall of amber hair. When he dons his Hollow mask, all he can see is Orihime's terrified face before him, her endless grey eyes wide with shock and fear.
He doesn't know why.
When he goes home, the reaction is instant and predictable. Isshin shouts a torrent of good-natured abuse at his wayward son, making him want to sock the old man in the jaw, just like old times. Yuzu bursts into tears and launches herself at his knees, which makes him feel like a the world's biggest asshole, and Karin just watches him as though she expects him to vanish before her eyes, which is probably a reasonable thing to expect by now.
His scars have all pretty much healed by now, but it takes him a while to get used to walking around in his own body again. Whenever they're alone, Kon rants at him about the permanent scowl he has to keep on his face and about what a killjoy Ichigo is. Rukia retreats to the Soul Society for a report, so she's not there to stomp on Kon's face.
In a way, he's kind of grateful for her absence.
At school, he just keeps quiet. Nobody seems to notice, because he's just Ichigo Kurosaki to them and they are used to his 'scary face'. But they rumourwhisper about Orihime. They say she's on drugs. They say she had been hurt by a guy. They say she ran away from home.
Ichigo watches her, the frown never leaving his face. Orihime avoids people, making excuses as to why she can't hang out with her friends at lunch. Eventually, they stop asking her altogether. Tatsuki keeps asking Ichigo what he knows, but what can he tell her?
Nothing. He can't tell her anything.
Sometimes, he wonders if they will both drown in their own silence.
Orihime dreams of the desert.
Endless sand, as far as the eye can see. She walks along the sand, the sun beating down on her back. She wears a white dress, the material soft, floaty and light, like feathers. It flickers in the slightest breeze. The soles of her feet burn and throb, but Orihime keeps walking, even though the very ground feels like it will crumble beneath her feet.
Crows circle the sky, their inky black wings glinting like spilt petrol. Orihime refuses to look up at them and soldiers on, her hair hot and heavy on her back. She doesn't stop to ask herself where she is wondering to, or from.
In the distance, however, something silver sparkles in the horizon. Orihime watches it, suddenly wary. She wants to turn back, but her feet keep propelling her forwards, merely marching on. The crows are just black shapes twisting in the sky, now that the sun begins to set, slowly receding into the distance.
Then, Orihime suddenly stops walking. A rushing sound fills her ears.
A sword is sticking straight through her, blood dripping onto the bone-white sands. Orihime's mouth opens, to scream, to cry out, anything. But all that happens is a line of blood, black in the night, trickles down the side of her chin. Her mouth fills up with blood, the urge to scream building in her throat, her hands clawing desperately at her neck. Tears gather in the corner of her eyes. She grabs for the sword, but her hands simply go straight through it, the blade visible through her undamaged palm.
The sword glints silver, strangely bloodless. A voice echoes over the sands, cold and calm,
You cannot run from death, Orihime Inoue.
Suddenly, Orihime begins to sink, the sand flowing all around her. The sword pins her to the spot as she watches the sky fly away from her, growing smaller and smaller as the pillar of sand grows taller. The crows melt into the shadows. A shape begins to form above her, the sand arcing over her head. A cage.
She looks down and finds herself sitting on a perch; her hands gripping the sides of it so hard her knuckles are white. Figures loom above her, their eyes shining ominously in the dark. Moonlight shines through the holes in her body. She looks down and the sword is not there anymore. A key that shines eerily silver lies in the lock before her, shutting her in.
Aizen's smirk reminds her of a fresh scar, unnaturally white and disturbing.
You cannot run from us.
When Orihime wakes up, her throat feels raw like she's been screaming. Sweat trickles down her temple as she gasps for air, the walls pulsing in the darkness. She is surprised when she runs a hand over the silk covering her belly to find there is no wound.
That's the night Orihime becomes an insomniac.
It isn't until Orihime starts skipping school that Ichigo decides to follow her.
She's never at home. He noticed that whenever she leaves school, she never walks in the direction of her house. And on days when he comes back late from Hollow duty, her house is dark, the windows blank like a dead person's eyes.
The strange thing is, ever since they returned from Hueco Mundo, Orihime has developed a strange habit of vanishing. It scares Ichigo more then he would care to admit, because he doesn't know if he will be able to find her again.
He refuses to lose her.
Not again.
So he follows her without letting her know he is. He doesn't want her to hide anything from him, so he must follow her in secret. When she's alone, she lets her sadness flow freely. When there are other people around, she looks right through them and retreats to some place inside herself.
Once, he nearly caught up with her.
She was standing on the edge of the street. It was raining heavily that day, the sky thick with dark clouds. Orihime had her face tilted upwards, staring up at the sky, letting the rainwater slide down her face, despite the fact she held an umbrella, unopened, by her side.
She could have been crying.
When he tried to see the expression on her face, though, a car drove between them, creating a miniature wave of muddy water. Ichigo jumped back to avoid it, hissing under his breath. When he raised his head again, Orihime was gone and the rain just kept on pouring.
It's only then that Ichigo sees a crumpled piece of paper with two words written on it, the ink running off it in small rivulets. They have been crossed out, but he can still read the words.
Sora Inoue.
He really doesn't want to intrude. It's a personal thing, he knows that better then anyone, but if he doesn't talk to her now she'll vanish again. He doesn't know how he knows this, but he doesn't care about the how or why.
So Ichigo walks up to her, hands shoved in his pockets. Orihime turns her head when she hears his footsteps, and before her face settles into its porcelain mask again, he notices a flicker of surprise cross her face. She reminds him of a deer that has heard a twig snap.
Ichigo clears his throat, because a lump forms that he wasn't expecting.
"Hey, Inoue,"
The words sound stupid the second he says them, but it's too late to take them back. But Orihime looks like she wants to smile, and Ichigo can't help but wonder how long it's been since somebody just talked to her, without asking her questions or giving her orders.
"I know it's not the day he died…" begins Orihime, nervously twisting the hem of her jacket. She stammers more then she used to. "But I…well, I just wanted to…"
Ichigo, despite deciding previously he would give her space, puts a hand awkwardly on her shoulder.
"It's okay, Inoue." He says, quietly, his voice only slightly above the thrum of the rain, "It's okay."
She keeps going to the grave, and Ichigo almost feels sort of guilty that he hasn't visited his mother's grave since he returned.
One day, while they're at the shrine, Orihime suddenly looks up at the sky as though about to ask a question. Ichigo is patient; Orihime needs time to collect her thoughts, these days. It's not like they're going anywhere, anyway.
"Do you think it's sad?" she asks, her umbrella perched on her shoulder, the yellow of it making a sun around her head. She tilts her head toward the graves, which look clean and polished in the rain,
"When they died in Hueco Mundo…they just disappeared, didn't they? Nobody said anything when they died…there's nothing to remember then by. Like they were never even there."
Ichigo just looks at her. If it were anyone else, he would have thought the statement was intended to be malicious, but Orihime has a strange way of feeling for others, no matter what they have done to her. It's something that both puzzles and frustrates Ichigo.
But he can't help look at the grave and think, just maybe, he can understand what she means. Just a little bit.
Orihime is touched by Ichigo's quiet concern. And she's more then grateful for him for freeing her. But she can't help thinking back, back to the fight he had with Grimmjow…
"How do you know we didn't do something else to her?"
Before, she had wondered what 'something else' had meant. Grimmjow had been different from the other Espada. While all the others seemed to worship Aizen, his eyes gleamed with rage, his attitude full of unspoken rebellion. He had been rough, violent and wild.
But he freed her anyway.
He was the one who reunited her with Ichigo, even if it was for selfish reasons. Truly, Orihime couldn't have expected anything more from him.
She is very thankful to him for that.
And she can't help thinking, hoping, even though she shouldn't, that he's alive somewhere. And would get the same freedom that she has.
Maybe he would use it better.
Another change in Orihime since her return was her penchant for black. Black, loose clothing. Most of her clothes feel too bright and childish and white was out of the question, for obvious reasons. She would like to burn them, along with her schoolbooks and some furniture, but as the winter fades, it is replaced by the unrelenting first rain of spring.
She's developing a cold from all this wondering around in the rain, but she doesn't care. In fact, she embraces it. It seems to be the only way she can punish herself.
Orihime would like to do something else. But she's never had much of a taste for alcohol, she wouldn't want to start smoking and she sees no purpose in harming herself. She's a healer, after all. That's the only thing she seems to be good for.
So it's a release, a wonderful, wonderful release, when Orihime is sitting and watching T.V, when she is seized by a sudden desire to cut her hair.
She doesn't even think about it. She just calmly picks up the scissors, walks into the bathroom and starts to chop. The sleeping pills she takes every night now sit on the self under the bathroom mirror, mocking her. She would like to throw them away, but she needs them, as much as she hates to admit.
Sleep is one of the only ways she can escape. And even then, her nightmares follow her.
A hysterical sort of giggle rose in Orihime's throat as she picks up a big hunk of hair and chops, letting thick coils of amber flop to the floor, coiling around her bare feet like snakes. Once she gets started, she just can't seem to stop.
When she's done, she puts the scissors down and stares at her reflection.
A girl with sad, sad eyes stares back at her. Her hair hands just past her shoulders, cut raggedy and uneven. With her hairpins sitting neatly on the little shelf below the bathroom mirror, Orihime's bangs flop in front of her eyes, making her look older, her face less round.
Orihime runs a shaking hand through her head, ruffling up her hair. She stubbornly decides she likes it, because now she looks nothing like the scared, helpless girl she is. She feels a pang for Tatsuki, but she didn't cut her hair because Tatsuki broke her promise.
She cut her hair because promises just don't mean that much to her anymore.
Ichigo fights.
Orihime's new habit of vanishing seems to have rubbed off on him, because now he's looking for any excuse to leave school. He fights Hollows with renewed vigour, releasing some of his frustration as he cuts through their bodies. But it's nowhere near enough to ease his feeling of inadequacy or his guilt.
His throat is raw from yelling, his limbs ache from swinging his zanpakuto and all he wants to do is go home and sleep.
But he keeps on fighting anyway, because if he thinks about anything else, it may crush him.
Tatsuki is, not surprisingly, upset when she sees Orihime's hair.
"But…you said you wouldn't cut it. I promised I'd protect you, remember?"
Tatsuki is scowling like she's angry, but Orihime knows perfectly well that it's just a façade Tatsuki puts on so she won't see how hurt she really is.
"I know, Tatsuki-chan," replies Orihime, hating that she doesn't feel guilty in the slightest, "But I don't want to be that girl anymore."
Tatsuki looks shocked, her frown temporarily disappearing, her mouth slack for a second, making her look young. Orihime wants to say something reassuring, something to ease Tatsuki's confusion and frustration, but Tatsuki asks a question. Another one of her many questions.
"Orihime, is this about what happened to you? Can't you tell me where you've been?"
Orihime just looks at her, wishing that she would understand and knowing she won't. It is like the rest of the world has been in a coma, when it is Orihime who wishes she could slip into unconsciousness and forget. It sounds silly, but Orihime can't help feeling a little jealous of Tatsuki then.
"You know I can't, Tatsuki-chan," Orihime says, softly.
Then she turns and walks away.
When Orihime vanishes from school entirely, Ichigo has a theory on where she might be.
Now that the rain had finally stopped, it has left behind a world of colour. Flowers shine in the sun, leaves glistening with dew. The colours are bright and vibrant.
They are hopeful.
Ichigo treks to a field around the back of the shrine. He sometimes walked there when he wanted to be alone, and when he does now, he sees Orihime, lying in a field where the poppies grow.
Her hair was splayed out around her head and shoulders, an amber halo in a field of green. Flowers bobbed in the breeze still their brilliant scarlet despite the sombre moonlight. Orihime inhales, slowly, taking in the wet-grass smell. The leaves rustle above her, whispering, scolding her. The dew was soaking into her dress, but she didn't care.
"Hey,"
Ichigo sits down beside her. Orihime's eyes flutter open.
"Haven't seen you around much anymore," remarks Ichigo, leaning back, palm making a dent in the long grass.
"Yeah…" mumbles Orihime, sitting up slowly.
Ichigo's eyes rove over her uneven hair and he is reminded suddenly of Yuzu. A primal urge to wrap his arms around her suddenly surfaces in his mind. He pushes it down, because he knows it's just his old desire to protect rising.
"Kurosaki-kun…I wanted to apologise," whispers Orihime suddenly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She won't look at him.
"For what?"
The words leave Ichigo, surprise spurring him to talk. He thinks that if he keeps Orihime talking, he can somehow make her stay.
"You and Ishida-kun, Sado-kun, Rukia-chan, Renji-kun…everyone…you all came to save me. And you all got hurt doing it. And yet I can't…I just can't seem to be me anymore. I'm so sorry, Kurosaki-kun. It must feel like such a waste."
Anger flares up inside Ichigo at that moment. He grabs Orihime's wrist.
"What's wrong with you?" he snaps, his voice loud, "Are you stupid or something?"
Orihime looks at him, and he can feel her twitch slightly, as if preparing to run. Ichigo sighs, lets go of her wrist. Orihime watches him, curiosity outweighing her desire to flee. Ichigo struggles to control his temper, but when he looks at her again, his newfound patience kicks in.
"Inoue. I saved you because I care about you, okay?" Ichigo says, staring at her, right in the eyes and for once, she doesn't look away. "You can never make me regret saving you. I don't expect you to get over what happened to you so fast, and you'd be lying if you said you had. So…take as much time as you want. Because you're still Inoue, all right?"
He has the feeling he's just rambling, but Orihime suddenly smiles at him. It's not a big, happy smile, but it makes the dimples appear in her cheeks and her eyes brim over with fresh tears. She isn't hiding them from him, and he never thought he'd be happy to see her cry, but right then, it was like the aftermath of a storm.
"Kurosaki-kun…"
Orihime smiles slightly wider, then she suddenly brings her hands up to her face, rubbing at her wet and somewhat reddening cheeks. She turns her face away from him slightly, the child-like shyness that overcomes her oddly endearing.
"You can cry," Ichigo tells her, knowing that this is only the first step, that recovery will take time. He doesn't care, as long as there's progress. "If it makes you feel better. You don't listen so well, huh?"
Orihime abruptly stops rubbing at her cheeks, lowering her hand. She sighs and looks back at him, a weary expression on her face. She suddenly looks and feels exhausted by her fear and sadness.
"I wanted to forget, Kurosaki-kun. I wanted to forget about the things I saw and the things that happened…I guess I just didn't want to have to think about anything, anymore. I was so tired of being afraid, but I was afraid of remembering."
Orihime closes her eyes.
"I just wanted it all to disappear."
It is Ichigo's turn to sigh. His hand gently covers hers. He licks his lips, because his mouth has suddenly gone very dry. But he says it anyway, because he means it.
"I don't want you to disappear, Inoue."
Orihime almost smiles for real.
Ichigo doesn't mind that it was an almost.
He'll help her remember how to smile again.
A/N: Not a happy ending, really, but hope you liked anyway.
Reviews would be awesome!