.

.

Another book to add to the stack.

Happily, the redhead hummed to herself, placing the finished novel on the fourth stack. They were beginning to pile up, she realized, nearly fortressing her entire room.

She supposed she could start from the first pile again, reread them, and continue on, but how tedious would that be? She could only hope she would have enough luck to purchase another book.

She glanced at the clock. 10:15. It was time.

Flickering off her light, she crept to her bed silently, and then heard it.

There was a sound his boots stomping, the grunt, and she could literally smell the whiskey from the threshold. She moved faster, almost desperate for the sensation of her cheap bedspread against her skin, and the blackness of her dreams.

Instead, she heard her door open.

"What the fuck are ya still doin' up?!"

There wasn't enough time to scream.

.

.

(Rain sticks to her cheeks

They remind her of cold tears)

.

.

Subtly, his eyebrow twitched.

Dammit. I knew I should have left earlier.

Twisting his head to the right, he tried to look through the cherry blossom tree, past the empty trail, around the thick branches, but to no avail, he did not see the school. It had only been a month out of school for the summer and he still had no idea how to get there. He was never good with directions. He had always walked with Rukia or even Renji, but he still never got it correct.

With his customary scowl, he tucked a hand in his pocket and tightened his grip on his school bag. This was pathetic. He was a third-year for crying out loud! He should know his way around, but again, he did not. Sighing, he glanced back; there were no students. No doubt he was late. Maybe if he backtracked and searched for another route, possibly on an escalated area, he would be able to see the school.

He shrugged. It seemed like a good idea, but he would definitely get detention from how long it would take him. For a second, he considered ringing up Rukia, but shook his head to himself. She would yell at him probably, set out to find him, and dropkick him, no doubt. He didn't want that so early in the day.

So, as he turned around, prepared to restart his journey, he saw something—or someone.

It was the scent of vanilla that caught his attention. And then there was a gusty wind—he grimaced deeply—and suddenly, he was surrounded by thick layers of – w-what the hell? – hair. Or he at least thought it was hair. Startled, he watched as the colors mixed and shined and dazzled him.

Gold, red, honey. Like a sunset.

The vanilla scent was blowing with the wind, into his face, and the hair whipped around, gathering in front of him. The second stretched for a long moment, and then time seemed to catch up with him.

"O-Oh!"

The voice was startlingly female. Great. He thought the hair was talking.

"I'm so sorry!" The Hair continued frantically, and then pale, small hands shot out and gathered the thick, luscious locks with frantic clutching. It took a while, but soon he was able to see again. Blinking rapidly, he tried to make sense of what was happening to him.

"Sir…are you okay?"

The voice had come from below him. Quickly, he looked in that direction. She was short, maybe a couple inches smaller than Rukia. And just as petite, too. She had wider than wide eyes, and they stared up at him curiously. She was pretty, he realized too—thick lashes, pink lips, cute nose, and—and she was waiting for him to answer.

He shook his head at himself. It was odd for him to space out. Meeting her gaze once more, he ran a hand through his messy hair and then jammed it back into his pocket. "Yeah. I'm fine." He took a step back, and tried to relax his tense muscles.

She cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows furrowing, "Are you positive?"

He nodded and her face scrunched up even more, "Yeah. Don't worry about me."

"But I nearly knocked you over!" She suddenly exclaimed, eyes even larger.

Her knocking him over? She didn't even reach his shoulder.

She pursed her lips when she saw his expression. Frowning, she muttered, "What's so funny?"

He met her gaze, "Nothing," And looked away. She did not appear convinced. Before she could call him out on poking fun at her, he spoke, "I'm kinda lost."

She blinked, as though surprised. When she blinked, he watched. Her long lashes swept across her cheeks in an instant, like feathers from a bird's wing, thick and graceful. She smiled brightly the next second, and it reminded him of the sun when it breaks through the clouds, "You are?"

He grunted and she took that as a yes.

Her eyes shined, "Well, you're in luck!" She gave a thumbs-up—such a small hand, "Karakura High, right?" He stared at her and she beamed right back. Pointing to her gleeful, pretty face, she said, "I'm a second-year. What about you?"

"Third."

Her eyes widened again, "Eh? That's so cool~!"

She was an exuberant one, he concluded. Shrugging, he replied, "I would've thought you were a first-year." Maybe even in junior high, he thought silently.

"Actually, I'm supposed to be." She said, "I skipped a grade since my marks were so high." She smiled at him again, too kind to a stranger.

He wasn't surprised. From her appearance, he could already guess she had a perfect life with perfect grades and perfect parents and perfect friends. Honestly, he wouldn't be shocked if she turned out to be some long-lost princess. Rolling his eyes to himself, he pushed his hand deeper in his pocket.

"Well!" She clapped her small hands together, breaking him from his thoughts, "Let's get going." She began to walk past him, and he caught the whiff of vanilla. His legs were following her before he could even comprehend himself moving. While behind her, he realized that her hair was longer than he expected, reaching the small of her back of an array of different shades. He watched as she walked forward, quiet.

Her little body tensed for a moment, and he found his gaze shifting down her form. She wasn't skinny – in fact she had suggestive, curvy hips, slim waist, and a pretty nice rear end. Her hair just showed off the elegance of her figure. Even though her chest-size was average, there was no denying she was a beauty.

Cute, his mind thought and he cursed underneath his breath.

She was staring back at him with her large, honey eyes, beneath black lashes, and a lock of red-gold hair lifted over her shoulder. She smiled again, and he was reminded of his mother.

"Are you coming?"

And he followed after.

.

.

Curiously, he glanced over his shoulder. Not there. Not there either. Great. He had lost her in the crowd.

"Wanna tell me why you're late?"

Ichigo glanced over, surprised to see Rukia there. She was short, but not as short as the redhead he saw moments ago. His scowl deepened.

Rukia crossed her arms over her chest, arching a brow as her longtime friend glanced around him, as though looking for someone. "What're you doing, idiot?"

Ichigo frowned, and turned to face her, "A girl."

"You have a crush?"

He turned to face her, eyebrows arched, "I don't think so."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head, "Can't you manage a better expression than that, idiot?"

"No." He frowned then, "I don't have a crush."

She seemed dubious, "Then what—"

"Hey, guys~!" A long arm wrapped around Ichigo's neck and shoulders, tugging him roughly towards another body. "Miss me over the summer?"

"No," Ichigo replied blatantly as he tugged himself away, "Get the hell off me, Renji."

"Oh, c'mon!" The redhead crowed, "Don't be like that, Ichigo." He glanced at Ichigo up and down, from his shock of orange hair to his scuffed converses. "You got taller." Ichigo glared at him. But it was true. He was just a few inches shorter than Sado. He had had some kind of growth spurt over the summer and now stood over six feet. Just then, a group of freshman girls passed by him, paused, and stared. Ichigo's eyebrow twitched as Rukia and Renji watched curiously.

"…It's Kurosaki-san. He's the one that beat up twenty men without any injuries…"

"…heard that he was married to some yakuza…"

"…He's actually tried to kill Ochi-sensei for giving him bad marks…"

"HEY!" Ichigo shouted at them, beyond irritated at their gossip. The girls all squeaked, shocked. Rukia shook her head, "If you got somethin' to say, say it to my face!"

"KYAAH~!" The group of females cried shrilly, "He's so cool!"

"Let me touch your muscles!"

"Is that your real hair color?"

"Please don't hurt me, Delinquent Kurosaki-san!"

"SHUT UP!" Ichigo roared. The girls fled almost instantly. Ichigo panted, a pissed off expression raging on his face. And just like that, Renji burst into laughter, clutching his stomach, and bent over. A vein in Ichigo's temple began to pulse furiously and he grounded his teeth together. He swore he saw tears in the redhead's eyes.

Landing a fierce punch on Renji's stupid head, Ichigo growled, "Shaddup, you damn moron."

"OW! The fuck was that for?!"

Rolling her eyes, Rukia turned away from the two. Honestly, she wondered why she even bothered to keep up with them. As they argued behind her, she faced the board. She was in class 3-A, and from what she could see, so was Ichigo. Now, she had to find Renji's class and they could all set out and—

"YOU IDIOT!"

Instantly, Rukia, Ichigo, and Renji looked up. That hadn't been them arguing. Usually, they would be the only group making such noise in the morning, and because of that, the crowd of students glanced at them, befuddled. Luckily, the crowd parted, only to reveal a student, spiky black hair, and ferocious brown eyes.

She did not look happy, and she was glaring up at a tall, blue-haired male. Hands on hips, he gave her an indifferent look. She scowled up at him, "And you call yourself a third-year! You're so immature!"

"Shaddup, would ya! Yer so annoyin'!" The blue-haired groused, jaw clenched.

She glowered up at him, and suddenly, took a rough hold of his button-up shirt, wrinkling it even more, "You're coming with me! Just wait until I tell her about this!" She dragged him along.

Students murmured to themselves as the two vanished from their view. Crossing his arms over his chest, Ichigo frowned lightly.

"I wonder what that was all about." Rukia murmured.

Ichigo shrugged, it's none of my concern.

.

.

The second day of school.

And Ichigo was late again.

Just great.

He walked through the hallway, quiet, and the bright lights were beginning to piss him off. Didn't they know he was having a bad morning? Were they trying to be broken by his foot? With a deep scowl etched into his face, he walked towards his classroom, the halls empty, and his feet subtly shuffling across the linoleum.

Renji had always said Ichigo was considerably lazy. He didn't like to waste his energy on useless things, that was all. He woke up when he wanted to, he went out when he felt like it, and he did his work whenever it needed to be done.

Really, he didn't even want to go to class. No doubt Rukia would throw something at him as soon as he opened the door and he would receive detention, maybe clean the room after school, and then he'd have to go home to his father's damn—

"Get back here!"

"Tatsuki-chan, nooo~!"

Ichigo paused, startled. He knew that voice. There was the sound of hurrying feet, delicate and small, and he looked up, just in time for a flurry of amber hair to block his vision. Without warning, the kohai he had met only yesterday, quickly locked eyes with him and then scurried behind him. He attempted to turn around and see what the problem was, but she kept behind him, hands in his shirt, and her vanilla scent made his heart speed up.

She was able to hide easily because of her petite stature, and she whispered, "Shhh! Don't say anything!"

Ichigo closed his mouth, silent. And then that black-haired girl from yesterday rounded the corner, dark eyes searching everywhere before they finally landed on Ichigo, who was frowning now.

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Who the hell are you?"

Ichigo arched a brow, "Huh?"

She ignored him, head cocking to the side, "I know you're behind him."

The girl squeaked, jolting behind Ichigo. He grimaced, hands tucked deep in pockets. Just how exactly did he get roped into this? Typically, he liked to keep to himself, but as he felt the girl grasp onto the back of his shirt, he felt something inside of him twitch. He was planning—maybe—just going along with it, but unfortunately the girl behind him ruined it even more for herself.

Waving a small, pale hand from behind his back, she replied in a deep, baritone voice that was a bad impression of his, "I am not this person you are speaking of. Go away before I use my unnatural tallness to attack you~!"

Ichigo's eyebrows went up, "I'm not unnaturally tall."

"Yu-huh!" She persisted from behind him. "You're just in denial."

He turned his head, attempting to glare at her, but she kept herself hidden rather well, "I'm not! You're just small."

"Am not!"

He rolled his eyes, uttering dryly, "Seems like you're the one in denial."

Tatsuki was arching her eyebrow, frowning at them both as the redhead finally revealed herself, turning towards Ichigo with a spark in her honey eyes, "How dare you! Next you're going to tell me my impression of your voice wasn't good!"

"It wasn't."

"Liar! I'm good at impersonating people." She puffed out her pink cheeks, "Watch. 'I'm a unnaturally tall man who gets lost everywhere. Boo-hoo~"

Ichigo's eyebrow twitched, "The hell? I do not sound like that!"

"I'm unnaturally tall and I do not sound like that."

"Stop mocking me."

"Stop mocking me. I'm unnaturally tall."

"How childish can you get?"

She gasped dramatically, "Childish?! I am not childish!"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Already, he could feel something forming between them, and he did not know if he was completely okay with it. He opened his mouth to snap at her, only for someone to break in between them, the spiky-haired girl glaring up at him, eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?" She repeated.

He glared back at her, scowling deepening.

"Tatsuki-chan~" The redhead was already squeaking, "That's an upperclassman!"

"So?" Tatsuki shrugged her off, sneering her upper lip at Ichigo, "If I can beat Grimmjow's ass any time of the day, I can knock this guy in the ground, too."

This situation was getting weirder and weirder. One girl was teasing him ruthlessly, and the other was ready for a fight. Honestly, Ichigo was just confused and irritated. He'd just wanted to get to class when he arrived, not get attacked by two random students.

"Look," Ichigo grounded out, glaring at the black-haired, "I have nothing to do with your…" he glanced at Orihime, "problems. I need to get to class."

Tatsuki arched a brow, but didn't say anything as he walked right past her. Unfortunately, Orihime did, "Wait, wait!" She scurried around until she was standing in front of him, blocking his path.

"What?" He practically groaned.

Her eyes shined fiercely, determined, "You have to tell me your name."

His brows arched, "I have to?"

She nodded vigorously. "I am Inoue Orihime." She pointed to her small, pretty face, "Now, you go."

Sighing heavily, he held out his hand, "Here." He muttered, "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Kurosaki…senpai." She stared up at him in wonderment before glancing down towards his hand. She looked at it with innocent curiosity before shaking his hand, looking at it, puzzled when she felt how rough it was, and then it all dissolved into her checking out his nails.

.

.

The day ended rather quickly. It wasn't long until Ichigo was leaving his final period with Keigo, Mizuiro, and Renji. Sado waved his big arm from across the hallway and left to get to his job early. Keigo was going on about something with Mizuiro, while Renji complained how hungry he was.

"I wanna go to the ramen shop. Who wants to join me~?" Renji sing-songed gleefully. Keigo latched onto him.

"I will!"

"Sure," Mizuiro shrugged, "Sounds good for the second day of school?"

They all glanced at Ichigo, who sighed heavily, "Yeah, I'll go." Before he knew it, they were outside. Renji was already swinging his leg over his bike and Mizuiro was riding with Keigo. Ichigo unlocked his own, grabbing onto the handle bars. He was just about to get on when a small, yet familiar body bumped into his. He looked over his shoulder, "Hey, watch where you're going…" He trailed off, gazing down at the pink-cheeked, amber-haired girl, "Inoue?"

She blinked and then looked up. And then there was that bright smile, "Kurosaki-senpai~"

Keigo's head whipped around, Renji jerked to a stop, and Mizuiro paused in mid-text.

Ichigo frowned at her, "I told you. You don't have to call me that."

She gasped dramatically, as though that was such a horrible thing, "Of course I have to call you that. You're an upperclassman!"

"Whatever," he murmured, "It sounds stupid." Just as he was about to turn away, Keigo was suddenly there and leering right down at Inoue. Ichigo scowled as Orihime blinked curiously at the brunette.

"Who's this?" She directed her question at Ichigo.

"A friend. Asano Keigo. He's annoying, but a good guy, I guess."

Keigo snorted, attempting to look 'cool', "Nice description, Ichigo," he said in bad English. He returned his attention to the redhead, "And you are?"

She smiled warmly at him, "Inoue Orihime."

Ichigo swore he saw Hell and back in Keigo's eyes. The brunette looked as if he might collapse at any moment as he gaped at Orihime, "T-T-The Inoue Orihime?!"

Ichigo's eyebrows furrowed, "The?" Orihime jerked, startled as Keigo suddenly took her little hands in his. Ichigo felt something small inside of him at seeing this, but didn't say anything as Orihime looked up at Keigo in clear astonishment.

"A-Ano—"

"You're even prettier in person, Inoue-chan~ It's amazing!" Keigo was practically a puddle at her feet.

Mizuiro tilted his head to the side, frowning, "May I ask what's going on?"

"This," Keigo gestured to Orihime, "is Inoue-chan." Renji blinked, "Don't tell me you guys have never heard of her. One of the smartest girls in school. She skipped a grade and everything. She's right under Ishida Uryu in test scores!" He looked back at the surprised Orihime, "Beauty and brains~"

Renji was frowning, eyeing Orihime until he suddenly snapped his fingers, "Oh. I remember now. You're that girl from earlier. You were walking around with that blue-haired guy and that dojo girl." He nodded, as though to reassure himself of this information.

Orihime smiled at him, "Grimmjow-kun and Tatsuki-chan."

"Yeah. Them."

"Ah!" Mizuiro looked up from his phone, "I've believe we've met before, Inoue-san."

Orihime perked up at this, "I remember Kojima-kun. We formed a study group with Ishida-kun once."

Ichigo was frustrated now. Everyone seemed to know her but him. Was he that oblivious to his surroundings? The rumor mill? At the very least, he should've heard about Inoue Orihime—bright eyes, long hair, and petite stature. Her smile was enough to light up a room and her looks were enough to make you double-take.

And now he felt left out as he watched his friends speak with her and watched her smile at them all. He raked a hand through his thick hair and then proclaimed loudly, "We're gonna go get some ramen," Orihime looked up at him, "Wanna come?"

She stared at him for a long moment with those large, bronze eyes. Finally, she broke their eye-contact, and shifted nervously, "I-I don't know…"

"Yeah!" Keigo exclaimed, bouncing in place, "You should, Inoue-chan! It'll be fun~"

"B-But I should get home and—O-Ow! Kurosaki-senpai~!" She complained, rubbing at her face. He'd pinched her right on the cheek. With teary eyes, she glared up at him, "You're such a meanie!"

He swung his leg over his bike, "Just get on." She hesitated, "I'll walk you home later. Promise."

And with that, she hopped onto the back of his bike and her thin arms wrapped around his mid-section. He tried to hold in the tiny emotion in chest that kept building and building. He placed his feet on the pedals, watching as Keigo threw him a look and Mizuiro and Renji took off. When he followed after them, he looked back—not very sure if he wanted to make sure if she was alright or just look at her.

What he saw surprised him. Her face was pressed into his back, shielding her smile and bright eyes. Her hair was like thick, shining streamers blowing this way and that. She tightened her arms around him and he grunted, pedaling faster down the hill from the school.

"Hang on, Inoue."

.

.

"…and then he said, where's the beef?!" Keigo finally got to his punch-line. He grinned, waggling his eyebrows at Inoue, "Heh. Get it, get it?" Mizuiro was shaking his head sadly, Renji looked confused, while Orihime burst into giggles. Ichigo arched a brow—that was a first, no one usually laughed at Keigo's jokes or paid any mind to them. Orihime was laughing, big smile on her face.

Ichigo tried not to stare at that smile too long.

"Hello! Hello!" A loud, boisterous voice greeted. Renji grinned like an idiot as he threw an arm around his father's neck, "Welcome back!"

"You're in a good mood, Oyaji!" Renji proclaimed, "Does that mean we get free ramen today?"

Renji's father eyed him, "You cheap bunch. I do not give out free ramen!" Keigo, Mizuiro, and Ichigo sat at the bar familiarly while Orihime watched as Renji and his father argued. Ichigo looked back at her over his shoulder and pulled out the chair beside his.

"What're you waiting for?" He frowned at her, "Sit down."

She nodded jerkingly and then climbed onto her seat. When Renji's father saw her, he immediately straightened, eyes growing wide. "Oi! Oi! Who's this pretty lady?" Orihime started. Jabbing his chopping knife at Ichigo's nose, the man hollered, "How could you disgusting lads get someone like this?!"

Without flinching, Ichigo batted the knife away from him. He glowered at him, "First, keep that damn thing out of my face. Second, her name's Inoue. And don't go scaring her away."

Renji was busy tying an apron around his waist, Mizuiro was texting away, and Keigo was shivering with obvious trepidation and discomfort when he saw the knife. Renji's father glared at them all before settling on Orihime, "What would you like to have, pretty lady?"

Orihime smiled shyly, "Beef ramen, I suppose." She glanced at Ichigo, and he shrugged.

"I'll pay."

"B-But Kurosaki-senpai—"

He grabbed ahold of her right, pink cheek and tugged, annoyed, "I said I'll pay. Got it?" Orihime whined, rubbing at her cheek when he released her. She gave him a stubborn look.

"Got it," she muttered sourly.

Renji grinned at them both, placing two cups of water between them, "You guys act you've known each other for years," he said, "It's kinda creepy."

"One beef ramen for the pretty lady!" The owner yelled at the top of his lungs. Mizuiro winced. "And the usual for Mizuiro, Keigo, and," he wiggled his eyebrows, "Kurosaki-senpai~"

Eyebrows twitching, Ichigo glared at the old man, "Just get on with it, you bastard."

Renji's father grimaced, "I would piss in your ramen, but it looks like someone already did, little boy."

As the two began to argue, Mizuiro directed his attention to the redhead, "So, Inoue-san, how are you? Are you adjusting well to the changes?"

Orihime nodded vigorously, "U-Un! People are really nice to me, even though I'm younger. Even Ishida-kun has helped me join the Student Council. Though I'm just a valedictorian. But since I'm so small, no one really pays attention to me so it's easier to get around."

"Just watch out for Sado," joked Keigo, "He's bigger than Ichigo. He'll squash you if you're not careful."

Orihime squeaked, "Even bigger than Kurosaki-senpai…" she actually looked frightened, eyes large, "Sugoi…"

When they were served, everyone dug in. Mizuiro was careful when he ate, blowing at his noodles before eating them. Keigo was sloppy, slurping at his, getting the juices and vegetables all over his sweater. Renji was eating his standing up, drinking it all right up at once. Ichigo stared down at his bowl of miso mixed with pork and veggies. And then to Orihime to see her eating with gusto, barely chewing on her meat.

He shook his head, eyebrows furrowing. "Inoue. What're doing?" She looked up, cheeks full. The food was all over face. "Chew, would you?" He plucked a few napkins from the holder and wiped at her mouth. She began to turn pink as he wrapped a hand around the back of her head, holding her still. "You're getting it everywhere."

"I-I can do it myself, Kurosaki-senpai!"

"Obviously not."

"Stooppp it~!"

"You're the one eating like a pig."

When he was finally finished, she was pouting. He let out a "tch" and lobbed the dirtied napkins into the trash. He looked up, only to see everyone staring at the two redheads. Keigo's mouth was hanging open, Mizuiro wasn't texting, Renji had stopped eating, and the owner was darting his eyes between Orihime and Ichigo.

"Oi," Ichigo and Orihime looked up at him, and he pointed his knife at them, "are you guys dating?"

Both teens turned a deep red. Orihime was the first to squeak out, "Who would want to be with an unnaturally tall man such as him?!" Just as Ichigo stammered, "Yeah, right! She's weird as hell!"

And then they both turned to each other, glaring, "WHAT'D YOU SAY?!" They hollered at the same moment.

Mizuiro shook his head, Keigo was floundering, and Renji sighed heavily as he refilled their cups, "Yeesh. You guys always make such noise."

.

.

"Well, I'm off," Mizuiro nodded at them. Keigo climbed onto the bike, and Mizuiro began pedaling away. Renji waved at them, standing in front of the shop. Ichigo grabbed a hold of his handlebars and watched as Orihime bowed to the owner, beaming at him.

"Come back anytime, pretty lady!" he waved at her.

"Yes, sir!" chirped the redhead, saluting him playfully. "Bye-bye, Abrai-kun!" He nodded at her and she happily skipped over to Ichigo. "Okay!" She gave a hearty thumbs-up, "I'm ready."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. For a moment, he thought about mounting the bike, just so she could wrap her arms around him again, but then shook his head at himself. He was going crazy. So he kept his grip firm on the handlebars and began walking beside it. Orihime caught the hint and hurried to catch up with him. Renji's father was still shouting "pretty lady" when they began to walk down the sidewalk.

Orihime was quiet as they walked, and when they stopped at a street light, watching as cars flew by, he looked over at her. The sapphire clips holding back her bangs caught his attention. They were sparkling in the sunlight. "Hey," she blinked her long lashes and then looked over at him curiously, "where'd you get those barrettes?"

Orihime reached up a little hand to touch her temple, where one rested. A strange look passed over her face before she looked down to the ground, at her shoes, "Um…my mother gave them to me. A very, very long time ago."

His frown deepened as her eyelids lowered. For a moment, he thought she looked upset, maybe even sad. The light gave them permission to walk, but he stayed where he was. "Your mom, eh?" She didn't respond, "I bet that's where you get your eating habits from, yeah?"

She looked up then, that stubborn glint back in her bronze eyes, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged, almost relieved when he saw that look on her face, "Nothing. It shouldn't offend you if it's not true."

She puffed out her cheeks, "Well, I'm not!"

For a second, he stared at her. And then he snorted, chuckling at her endearing expression. He began to walk again, and she followed after him. They passed stores and houses before Orihime came to another stop. Curiously, he watched as she stared at the Karakura Lake. The only lake in the town. He didn't particularly care for it, but he watched as she stared at it, eyes wide and glowing.

Her hands began to clench in her skirt. The sunset reflected off the shining lake. It reminded him of childhood, good times, the best of times. "This place," he muttered a moment later, "is important to you, isn't it?"

The sunset made her look like an angel, shining off her hair, off her face, off her pretty eyes.

She looked over at him and beamed, "Yes. It is."

.

.

When they arrived at her house, she nibbled on her bottom lip nervously. She looked up at him, and when he caught her staring, she glanced away. She lived in a pretty nice neighborhood with a pretty nice house. It was big enough for a family, a full family.

"No one's home," he said, frowning.

She nodded meekly, before shrugging, "No one's ever really home, Kurosaki-senpai." She walked up the steps. Ichigo stood by the mailbox, frowning deepening. When she stood in front of the door, the house looked too big for her, looked empty and lonely.

Shit.

She looked lonely.

"Hey, Inoue," She paused, looking over her shoulder. He met her large eyes. She was startled at the fiery determination in her eyes, "I'll walk you home."

Her lips parted, "Eh? B-But, Kurosaki-senpai—"

"Every day."

Her eyes were widening, and she looked like a puffer-fish, cheeks red.

A faint smirk crossed over his face, "Every day, alright?"

She seemed to have an inner struggle with herself. She bit her bottom lip again, hands clenched by her side. Finally, she looked up at him with a bright smile, so bright he thought he would go blind from the intensity.

"Thank you, Kurosaki-senpai!"

Damn. He didn't when it happened, but somehow, someway, he was already falling.

.

.

The next week was uneventful. Like he promised, he walked Orihime home every day. His friends didn't pry, and he was grateful for that, but they threw him looks after school whenever he ditched them to go fetch Inoue. Mizuiro would smile knowingly, Keigo would wail and whine, and Renji would shrug his shoulders saying, "it's your business, Carrot Top."

One day, he remembered unlocking his bike, listening to Rukia practice her English in his ear, when he caught sight of Orihime standing by the front gates, surrounded by a tall blue-haired and a shorter pale man with black hair. He had seen the blue-haired man around, but never the green-eyed man. He watched them—Orihime was saying something enthusiastically, moving her hands this way and that, and her eyes were big and hazel and excited. The blue-haired didn't look particularly happy, sneering something to her and the pale counterpart rolled his eyes. As he set in their direction, a short male passed right by him, holding chocolates to his chest. The kohai rushed over to the three, but jerked to a stop when he saw the two men. Ichigo watched, intrigued.

The blue-haired turned to him, blocking him from the redheaded beauty. "U-Um…is it alright if…if talk to Inoue-san? Alone?"

The blue-haired and the black-haired stood in front of the perplexed Inoue, "And why do you need to speak with her?" The black-haired asked in monotone.

The first-year shuddered at his voice, "W-Well…you see," he held out his chocolates, "I made these for her and…I was going to c-c-confess…" He was turning beet-red.

The blue-haired leered, "Oh, really?" He looked over at his companion, "You hear that, Ulquiorra? He wants to confess."

"What a man." Ulquiorra deadpanned.

"Well'p, little man," the blue-haired placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder, jostling him roughly, "You can confess," the kohai lit up, but the blue-haired lifted him from the ground, quite easily at that, "OVER THERE!"

And he threw the first-year through the air. Ichigo watched as he landed a few yards away, face-first into the dirt, and the chocolates shoved down his shirt. Rukia looked up at the commotion, and frowned when she saw the guy sprawled across the ground. She poked at his motionless body with an arched eyebrow.

"Grimmjow-kuuun!" Orihime protested.

Grimmjow turned to face her, "Watta'ya want, Small Fry?"

She glared up at him like an angry kitten, "I wanted to eat those chocolates! You're so mean~!"

Ulquiorra stared down at her blankly, "Are you not upset? He also tried to confess to you."

She cocked her head to the side, "Confess what?"

Grimmjow face-palmed.

"Look!" Grimmjow jabbed a finger at her nose, causing her to stare at it, cross-eyed, "I'm not letting any looser confess to you! Then you'll have looser kids! And, if you do have looser kids, I'll punish you by telling them every day that they're loosers. I won't sugar-coat it either. I'll be like, 'Your Uncle Grimmjow hates you because you're a looser'."

Orihime gasped in horror, "Your punishments are cruel and unusual!"

Grimmjow nodded firmly. Something caught Ulquiorra's eye, causing him to nudge Grimmjow in the side. "Look. Another suitor."

Orihime leaned around them, and then perked up, "Oh! Why hello there, Kurosaki-senpai!"

Ichigo ignored Grimmjow and Ulquiorra's glares and locked eyes with Orihime. "You ready to go?"

Orihime rushed over to him, swinging her school bag side-to-side, and stopped in front of him with that adorable large smile of hers, "I am ready, Kurosaki-senpai!" For some reason, he thought that maybe she liked saying his name a little more than she should. She said it in nearly everything she said to him.

Meh. He wasn't really complaining.

But her two bodyguards didn't seem happy, "Oi, Shrimp." She looked over at them, perplexed, "Who's this?"

"Oh!" She jerked, as though she'd forgotten. She pointed to Ichigo, "This is Kurosaki-senpai." Before Ichigo could say anything, she was nodding, "I know, I know. He's unnaturally tall and he has a funny face. It's okay, though. He makes up for it."

Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed, "And how does he do that?"

Orihime turned a light shade of pink and Grimmjow's eyebrow twitched. Before she could say anything else stupid, Ichigo lightly bonked her right upside the head. Orihime gave a startled little cry, gripping either side of her head before looking up at him with teary, brown eyes, "K-Kurosaki-senpai…that hurts."

He glared at her, "Don't go saying stupid things, then."

Orihime rubbed at her head and her blush darkened. Ulquiorra was watching her carefully and Grimmjow was sneering his upper lip, "I know you. You're Kurosaki Ichigo."

Ulquiorra frowned at this, "The one who is married to a yakuza?"

Grimmjow's scowl deepened, Ulquiorra was rubbing his chin, and Orihime looked in awe from the new shred of information. Ichigo glared at them all, "NO! Dammit, those are just rumors!"

"Yep," Rukia was suddenly standing next to him—or maybe he hadn't noticed her. "He's just a regular delinquent."

"Eh? Delinquent?" Orihime was surprised.

Ichigo spun around to face the black-haired, "I'm not a damn delinquent! Geez," he crossed his arms over his chest, "Out of all people, you should know that."

"Oh, don't get so moody," teased Rukia, smirking now, "And stop trying to impress your girlfriend." She casted Orihime a meaningful look, smirk widening into a wide grin.

Orihime turned delicate pink again. Ulquiorra arched a brow at her reaction while Grimmjow grimaced, eyebrows furrowing, "I-It's not true!" Orihime squeaked, "H-He just…He just—"

"Walks her home every day, buys her treats, and don't forget follows her around like a lost puppy," Rukia chimed in.

"You bitch," Ichigo grounded out, jabbing a finger at her, "And it's more like she follows me around!"

Grimmjow looked towards Orihime, as though to confirm this. She waved her hands in front of her frantically, "I-It's only to make sure he doesn't get into trouble! His unnatural tallness might hurt someone and—Ow!" Orihime rubbed at the back of her head, whirling around to face Ichigo, "S-Stop hitting me, Kurosaki-senpai~!" She whined pathetically, teary-eyed.

"Stop saying nonsense!"

"But it's the truth!"

As they began to bicker, Ulquiorra tucked his hands in his pockets and turned away. Grimmjow, with a shrug, turned and followed him. Rukia glanced at the two arguing redheads and then back to the two boys. She decided to follow them, returning her attention to her English book. Her house was in the same direction anyway.

.

.

He was walking her home again. The sun was setting. When they began to pass the river, he waited for Orihime to hurry to catch up with him, as she did every day. He noticed that when they got around the Karakura Lake, she would rush to his side, as though she needed the reassurance of his presence, and lean into him a little more than usual until it was out of sight. He never minded this and he didn't pry.

Plus, he liked the feeling of her next to him.

Instead, Orihime was nowhere to be seen. Perplexed, he looked over his shoulder. Only to see Orihime peeling off her socks and shoes. Frowning, he let go of his handlebars and kicked up the stand. Orihime was dipping her naked feet in the water, just as he came to a stop next to her.

She was already knee-deep in the dark water. He watched as she bent down and cupped her hands together, bringing up the water. For a second, he thought she would drink it. Instead, she stared at her blurry reflection. When she cried, he realized her eyes grew big and glowed more than usual.

He wasn't prepared for it though, when she started sniffling and big, fat tear formed in her eyes. He took another step forward, "H-Hey…"

She spun around to face him, and the next thing he knew, her face was buried in his chest and her arms were wrapped around him tight, little wet fingers burning through his clothes. Surprised, he looked down at her, her long, thick hair blowing around the two when a harsh wind blew by. He smoothed it down without a thought, and then wrapped an arm around her, practically crushing her to his chest.

He didn't know why she was crying or why she seemed so desperate to get close to him or got weird whenever she was around the river. All he knew was that she needed comfort and he was the one to give it.

He'd never comforted somebody, but he would try his best when it came to this odd, redheaded girl in front of him.

Her grip tightened until it was hard to breathe.

"You know, we don't have to come this way, Inoue. If it makes you upset, we can just—"

Vigorously, she shook her head against his chest. He still couldn't see her face.

He sighed. His pants were getting wet.

He looked back towards the sun, which was beginning to sink. The street lights flickered on and Ichigo listened to Orihime sniffle against his chest again. "You're eyes are gonna get puffy, you know. Since you're crying."

It was a long second before she answered, "…I know." Her voice was muffled.

He resisted the urge to glare down at her as she rubbed her snotty nose all over his shirt, "Oi! I'm not some tissue."

"You're…you're—" Hiccup. "You're such a big baby."

He rolled his eyes, "Says the girl crying."

It took her a moment to wipe away her tears and blow her nose on his shirt. He set his eyebrows in a straight line, face flat. She looked up at him then, pulling down her eyelid and wiggling her little pink tongue at him, "I'm not crying."

He found himself fighting a grin as he watched her. But it won over, and he was smiling at her like a fool, laughing despite himself. Wet socks, flooded shoes, and soaked pants. And she was barefoot, weeping for unknown reason, and beautiful. He lifted a large hand and wiped away the remainder of her tears.

Crying on the side of a lake, honestly. She was a handful. But he didn't mind, really. Not at all.

"You smile like a doofus."

Bonk!

"I-Itai~!"

"You just had to ruin it."

.

.

He remembered the first time he met her father. It had been a Tuesday afternoon and it was particularly hot that day. The sun was high in the sky, which was surprising since it was typically setting when they began to walk. Orihime was humming to herself, skipping ahead of him without any shoes or socks.

He told her again and again that she needed to wear her shoes or she would be hurt. She didn't listen, of course. She took off her shoes whenever they got close to the river, but didn't even look at it when they were passing through. It was strange. Hell, everything about her was strange but he never questioned it. He watched her 'la-la-la' straight to her mailbox—just as she did every day—open it, and then freeze.

Her smile slowly fell.

Curious, he arched a brow, "Inoue? You alright?" She didn't reply, "What, no mail?"

And then, she straightened, ramrod. Quickly, she turned to face him, and the smile she was directing at him didn't look like the smiles he'd seen before at all. This one looked strained, small, and apologetic all at the same time.

Frowning now, he muttered, "What's wrong?"

"Thanks for walking me home, Kurosaki-senpai!" She sing-songed, stepping away from him, "B-But you should really get going."

A faint smirk crossed over his face, "What, no whining? You usually hate when I leave."

She nodded and then shook her head and then nodded again. "Well, this time, you have to leave…Because—Because I'm a secret agent and I have to report to the president of Strawberrytopia!" She screamed at the top of her lungs and then proceeded to make a random karate pose.

Ichigo nearly rolled his eyes, but climbed onto his bike. "Alright, alright. You don't have to go on ninja on me. See you tomor—"

And then, the front door open.

The first thing Ichigo noticed was his hair. It was dark and thick, and nothing like Orihime's. He had a light stubble, probably hadn't shaved in a white. He was dressed in dark jeans, large boots, and a thin white T-shirt. Ichigo tried to find a trace of Orihime in him, but found nothing. Well, maybe the shape of his ears and the thickness of his hair. His eyes were too dark to tell the proper color, though.

Orihime jerked and then spun around, "O-Otou-san!"

The man stared at her a long moment before his dark gaze flickered to Ichigo. "Who're you?"

Ichigo wasn't paying attention to him, though, rather to Orihime, who seemed to freeze for a moment. She looked paler than normal. Ichigo watched as she latched onto her father's thick arm and tugged him towards the home. "Ne, Otou-san, let's go inside. I'll make miso with your favorite noodles. Promise!"

He looked over at her slowly, reluctant to let his eyes from Ichigo. It seemed to take a while for her words to sink him. She was smiling at him encouragingly, before throwing Ichigo a look, as though to say, it's okay, really.

"Huh? And why would I want your food?" Suddenly, his hand came down hard on Orihime's head. Ichigo started. There was no light Bonk! as he did. It was rough, violent, flesh against flesh. His eyes narrowed in on the bastard, watching as he belched and then lumbered inside, muttering something under his breath.

Orihime had stumbled several steps back, gripping her head with shaking hands. He took a step forward, "Inoue…"

And she looked up at him, attempting a smile. He gritted his teeth together, eyes darting back to the door.

"I-It's okay, Kurosaki-senpai…" She broke into his thoughts and her smile widened, "He's just…just…"

"Drunk," Ichigo grounded out. "I could smell him from here, Inoue."

Orihime stared at him, biting into her bottom lip, "Sometimes he gets like that. Okaa-san makes…him like that." He didn't have enough time to ask her what she meant before she was walking into the house, one hand rubbing her head. "Thanks for walking me home, Kurosaki-senpai. See you tomorrow."

And goddammit, she closed the door with that big silly smile of hers and he was left befuddled and angry.

When he got home, he locked up his bike robotically and walked into the house. Instantly, he was tackled by his father, "ICHIIIIIGOOOO~!"

"Stop smothering me, Old Man!" hollered the orange-haired, prying his father off and literally throwing him across the room. Yuzu scurried out of the way, just as their father crashed into the wall.

"Onii-chan! Welcome home!" Yuzu greeted cheerfully, carrying a basket full of fresh laundry. She dropped it on the couch, right next to Karin, who was boringly flicking through the channels. She raised a hand just as he toed off his shoes, waving it at him.

His mother took that chance to walk in, startled when she saw her eldest, "Oh! Ichigo, you're home already? You usually come home much later…"

Yuzu perked up at this, "He is, isn't he?"

"Who cares…" droned Karin.

Isshin shot up out of nowhere, startling everyone in the room. He pointed a finger at his only son, "I know why!" He bellowed. Masaki looked at him curiously, Karin told him to 'shut up', and Yuzu watched in awe. Smugly, he did an Awesome Daddy-chan Pose. "My boy got himself a girlfriend."

Yuzu and Masaki looked towards the teenager, surprised while Karin snorted dryly, "Yeah, right."

"Is it Rukia-san?" Yuzu asked, tilting her head to the side.

"I would expect him to be with her…" Masaki nodded along with her daughter, "But…she doesn't seem to be his type."

Yuzu appeared confused, "Onii-chan has a type?"

"Yeah, but Rukia has gotten a lot more sexy since junior high, you know," Karin put in uninterestingly, pausing on a cartoon.

Isshin suddenly bounced onto the end table, nostrils flaring, "She has?!"

Irritated, Karin launched her foot right into his face, and he landed somewhere in the kitchen, creating a huge ruckus. She shook a fist in his direction, "You perverted Old Goat! Focus on your wife, would ya?!"

"I don't mind at all," Masaki chirped, smiling, "I had a crush on Don Kanonji for a long time…"

Karin stared at her mother in horror, "Are you serious?"

Ichigo was left glaring at them all, pink-cheeked. He crossed his arms over his chest. He had just gotten into the house and they were already switching from his love-life to crushes. He scowled, starting up the stairs. That was when Yuzu decided to latch onto his leg, arms and legs wrapped around it.

"Wait! Onii-chan, tell me about your girlfriend~!"

Karin sighed heavily as their mother nodded eagerly, "Yes, yes! You have to bring her over!"

"No way!" shouted the twenty-third best scorer in his class. "All of you are nuts, dammit!" He shook off Yuzu and then hurried up the steps before any of them could catch him.

Besides, he needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

.

.

She wasn't there in the morning. He didn't even go to first period. Instead, he searched for her high and low. Even in the trees in the back of the school, since she went up there to think sometimes, even when the kohai could see up her skirt. He would yell at her and she would make faces at him. He remembered the first time he caught her when she fell out of the tree. It made his heart almost thump out of his chest.

He stalked down the empty hallway, scowl deepening. If she didn't come to school then he would go to her house. Before he could even turn the corner, he was running into someone. He caught himself before he fell, but the other person was less fortunate.

He looked up, surprised to see Tatsuki. He held out a hand for her, but instead she stood on her own, frowning at him. She crossed her arms over her chest, "You looking for her, too?"

He nodded, tucking his hands in his pockets, "Yeah. I am. You seen her?"

She rolled her eyes, "If I did, I wouldn't be missing first period, now would I?" Before he could snap at her, she was already saying, "Grimm's looking outside. Ulquiorra's on the damn roof."

"Already looked there," he said, looking blasé.

Tatsuki looked up at him in shock. He had covered all that ground?

He scratched at his orange hair, "I've looked everywhere actually. Even the custodian closet on the third floor."

Tatsuki crooked a brow, "Why would she be there?"

His eyebrows furrowed as he frowned at her, "Why wouldn't she be? She likes to hide in there on Wednesdays."

Tatsuki's eyes widened. So that was where she hid? Tatsuki had been Orihime's friend since they were in elementary. How did this idiot know that before her? Frown deepening, she said, "Yeah, well, did you know she only eats onigiri on Fridays? And only with—"

"—Wasabi and mustard," he waved a hand at her dismissively, "Yeah, I already knew that." He glanced down the hallway, mumbling to himself, "She could be playing around in the Science Lab. She likes to dip her hair in the beakers…"

Tatsuki's eyebrow twitched, "Huh. Did you know she only kicks a soccer ball with—"

"—Her left foot. Even though, she kicks everything else with her right."

"—And she only drinks tomato juice—"

"—lukewarm and out of a glass."

"—And she only takes her bread—"

"—Freshly baked. She even says, 'freshly baked' when she eating it."

Tatsuki stared up at him, eyes narrowed. Ichigo wasn't even paying attention to her. Instead, he was thinking of all the places the tiny redhead could possibly be. It was shocking how much she knew about Orihime, just by being beside her for two weeks. Something that had taken her more than ten years.

"What's your deal?" demanded the dojo-champion a moment later, "You in love with her or something?"

Ichigo paused. Slowly, he turned to face her. With a faint smirk on his lips, he replied, "Or something."

Before she could even feel surprise, there was the exuberant shout of, "Tatsuki-chan~! Kurosaki-senpai~!"

Both heads shot up, one dark and the other orange. There was Inoue, one hand in the air, waving back and forth, and a goofy smile on her face. Even from there, the two could tell she was tired. She looked tired, deadbeat in fact. But she rushed over to them, smiling brightly at Tatsuki when she stopped in front of her.

The black-haired eyed her, "You're late."

"I had to get my bread," Orihime jabbed a small loaf of bread in front of her. She leaned towards them, eyes serious, as though to tell an important secret, "It's fresh—"

"—ly baked. We know," the two sighed flatly. Tatsuki's eyebrows merged, "Geez. You almost gave me a heart attack." She nudged the redhead with her elbow, "You know I hate when you miss school."

"Sorry, sorry," Orihime bowed to her before taking a large bite out of her bread.

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. Her wrist. He took a large step forward and Tatsuki moved to the side, watching him curiously. Without warning, his hand shot out and took a hold of Orihime's thin, right wrist. Her bread fell.

Mouth falling open, Orihime cried, "Hey, Kurosaki-senpai—O-Ow!" Slowly, she looked down at her wrist, ensnared in his tight grip. He applied a bit more pressure, watching as her eyes grew wide and her lips parted, "Ow! Owww! Wait, Kurosaki-senpai—"

He yanked her sweater sleeve all the way up to her elbow. And stared down at the bruises decorating her arm.

.

.

(I miss you

I miss you more than

old cartoons and flowers

in the winter)

.

.

The three sat in the quiet library. No teachers, no students, just silence.

Orihime yawned, her mouth stretching wide and tears stinging the edges of her eyes. Ichigo watched her out of the corner of his eye. She looked adorably small in his jacket, bunching her hands in the long ends. She then looked at him, catching his stare, "It's not that cold, Kurosaki-senpai. Really. I can just—"

"Stop being an idiot and wear it," snapped Tatsuki from across the table. Obediently, Orihime clenched her hands in her lap and stayed silent. There was a moment of tense silence before Orihime rubbed at her right eye with a closed fist. Tatsuki arched a brow, "Tired?"

The redhead nodded, "Yes, I am. I-I," she fidgeted for a moment, "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

I can only imagine why, Ichigo thought sourly.

"Well, lie down," Tatsuki suggested, nudging her head at Ichigo, "Kurosaki won't mind lending you his lap, right?" She glanced at the orange-haired, who jerked.

"W-Wha…" He looked over at Orihime, only to find her staring at his lap longingly, red in the cheeks. Sighing, he wrapped a hand around her opposite shoulder and pulled her down so that she landed softly on his thighs. "There. Happy?"

He was blushing, damn. His ears were starting to feel warm too. Tatsuki grinned at him.

Orihime, though, was oddly quiet. He expected her to tease him, but instead, she readjusted so that she was a little more comfortable. The ends of her hair were touching the floor as it overflowed in his lap. Her eyelids fluttered, as though to fight off sleep.

"It's warm…" she murmured a second later.

Ichigo started again, the blush in his cheeks intensifying. "Just go to s-sleep!" By time he finished blurting that out, her eyes were already shut and she was snoring lightly. He scowled, glaring up at Tatsuki now, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"More or less," she shrugged with a smirk before her expression turned somber, "You walk her home every day, right?"

He met her eyes, her face unreadable. Shrugging, he said, "Yeah."

She smiled a bit, but it looked sad, "I…I used to walk her home. Back when we were in elementary and then, one day. She asked me to stop. I was really confused. We were so close and then all of a sudden, she wanted me to leave her alone."

Ichigo looked down at the sleeping girl in his lap.

"I know I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but her mother passed away a long time ago." Tatsuki continued, dragging a finger across the table, "Orihime never told me how sick she was, but I kind of guessed it with how many school days she was missing. Kazumi-san was always very nice, too. She always told me Orihime was supposed to have a brother, but Kazumi-san, her mother, said she died in the womb. His name was going to be Sora. I thought that was a pretty name. Such a pretty name…" She wrote Sora in big kanji on the table.

Ichigo lips pressed in a firm line. He didn't know any of that. It kind of pissed him off. Maybe Orihime didn't want him to know, or maybe she did was too afraid to say anything. H swallowed, staring down at her visible arm, which had a white bandage wrapped around it. The nurse had given her painkillers and a soft smile, saying "she'll be tired, but it'll help the pain". He sighed, "And her father?"

Tatsuki's eyes tightened, hard and cold, "I've told her to leave. Every time I bring it up, though, she tells me it's nothing. It makes me so angry. I know he does something to her, that drunk bastard. She's lucky Ulquiorra and Grimmjow don't know or he'd be dead."

"I know," Ichigo reminded her, his tone nonchalant, but something was blazing in his eyes.

Tatsuki crossed her arms over her chest firmly, regarding him with dark eyes, "When you said 'or something', what did you mean by it?"

His dark amber gaze met hers for a second before they fell onto Orihime's peaceful face. Dragging his thumb from her button nose to her soft lips, he replied, "It means I'll do anything for her."

.

.

Later, they sat side-by-side in the lake. Orihime's feet splashed back and forth in the water. She was like a little kid sometimes. Toying with the shiny rock she had found a few moments before, she said, "Tatsuki-chan said that she told you about my mom."

Carefully, he looked over at her, only to see her staring at him with her pretty eyes, "Yeah, so?"

Her nose crinkled, "I…didn't want you to know about that."

"How old would your brother be?" He asked, and she smiled a bit.

"Um…Twenty-five. He would probably still be away to law school. Probably in America. Anywhere. And he would send me letters, with little trinkets and smiley faces. And I would be happy," She twirled the rock around in her hands, "Very, very happy."

He watched her face. She didn't look particularly sad or upset. She was smiling at the lake, as though it was something to call home.

"What about you?" She was smiling at him now.

"What about me?"

"You have a mom, right?"

He smirked a bit, "Yeah. And I have a dad. And two sisters."

Her mouth fell open, "Amazing~ How old are your sisters?"

"Only twelve."

"Are they unnaturally tall too?"

"No," He rolled his eyes to the sky, "They're as tall as you, stupid."

She grinned, "Then I'll get along with them well," She looked back at the stone in her hands. She lobbed it into the lake, watching as it skipped—once, twice, thrice. For a moment, they were both silent until Orihime broke it, "My mom used to take me to this lake every day. And she would throw pebbles all the time. She's much better than me."

And he picked up a stone, threw it, and watched as it skipped six times before sinking into the water. Orihime smiled again, this time wider than the last. Grasping onto his left hand, she chimed, "Can you do that again? Can you?"

He chuckled, despite himself. With his free hand, he flicked her nose, "You're like a kid." But then, he was intertwining his fingers with hers. Startled, she looked down at their tangled hands before looking back up at him, a deep pink.

He gave her a small smile.

And she beamed right back—sunlight, trust, and hope.

.

.

(her skin felt like satin

decorated with a series of bruises

only she could make it

look beautiful)

.

.

One day, he ran into Grimmjow and Ulquiorra. He remembered it was lunch time and Keigo and Mizuiro was right behind him. They were bickering about something, maybe about girls. Keigo was whining and loud and Mizuiro was condescending and teasing.

"Would you guys shut the hell up!" snapped the orange-haired, glaring at them over his shoulder.

"Funny when you're the one making the most noise," a dry voice noted from in front of him. Ichigo looked up, only to see Ulquiorra and the Grimmjow.

"Oh," Ichigo scratched at his head, "Hey, guys."

"Orange dipshit," Grimmjow suddenly sneered.

Keigo balked in fear while Mizuiro looked up curiously. Ichigo grimaced, "What'd you say?"

"You heard me, asshole," the blue-haired quipped, "You're lucky I'm in a good mood or I'd kick your ass."

"For what exactly?" Mizuiro piped in, watching as the two bright-haired men bumped heads.

"Orihime's got a cold or somethin'," Grimmjow huffed, "From putting her feet in cold water."

Ichigo pressed his lips together at this. Orihime was the one who insisted she put her naked feet in the lake every day, not him. Even though he didn't particularly like her putting her feet in a dirty lake, he let her do it anyway because it made her happy.

"How unfortunate," Ulquiorra deadpanned.

Ichigo didn't reply, instead frowning to himself. She was at home. He needed to find Tatsuki. But, before he could, Grimmjow was glaring at him and placing a rough hand on his shoulder. His mind flashed to when he threw the kohai across the field, but instead, the blue-haired was gazing at him strange.

"I'm trusting you, Carrot Top," Grimmjow muttered underneath his breath, practically growling it at him.

Ulquiorra arched a brow, "I thought you said you would never hand the woman over to…" He slid his eyes to Ichigo, "a looser."

"Did I call him that?" snapped Grimmjow. He redirected his attention to Ichigo, who was oddly silent, "She doesn't really know what a confession is, so it might take you a while. Orihime was there for us when we needed it so we'll be there for her."

Ulquiorra pocketed his hands, "I agree, I suppose."

Grimmjow released Ichigo and spun around to face the black-haired, "You suppose?"

He blinked slowly, "Huh. You surprise me, Grimmjow. You're getting rather soft."

"I'M NOT SOFT, DAMMIT!"

Ichigo, befuddled, watched as the two argued.

I'm trusting you, Grimmjow had said, I'm trusting you with her.

.

.

It happened without warning, really. One moment, she was washing the dishes, scrubbing at a particularly hard spot, when she heard the front door open and close. The pan in her hands slipped from between her fingers, and then clattered to the bottom of the sink, splattering her blouse with soapy water.

Okaa-san, he's back.

Timidly, she raised her head, only to see him in the doorway, finishing up a beer bottle. She thought, for a moment, he would throw it away, but instead, it shattered against the opposite wall and glass scattered everywhere. Her bare toes curled against the linoleum. Her lips felt dry.

He reeked of alcohol.

But she greeted him anyway, "W-Welcome back, Otou-san."

His swimming eyes landed on her. He blinked, as though he realized she was just there. And then he was stalking towards her, large steps swallowing up the floor until he was in front of her. Orihime resisted the urge to shiver, resisted the urge to run away. He reached out, and for a moment, she swore she saw her father in there, her brother in there, but then his long, rough fingers clamped around her throat.

She gasped sharply, loudly.

"You look like her," he grumbled, though she could barely hear him with the blood pounding in her ears, "You look just like her."

Orihime's eyes flickered, right over his pulsing forearm to see the picture hanging right above the kitchen threshold. Her mother was beaming, holding the infant Orihime to her chest, hazel eyes staring right at the camera, pink lips stretched over white teeth, ivory skin illuminating softly in the sunlight.

"O-Otou-san…" She whispered, gripping his wrist with her sweaty hands, "You're hurting me."

"Shut up!" He roared at her, and she flinched back.

Okaa-san, he might just hurt me.

His fingers tightened around her throat and she felt the air escape her. In a second, she was pinned against the wall, her head banging against it hard. Her bare feet kicked daintily, hanging in the air. And then he was yelling at her, eyes red and sunken in. His foul breath clouded her senses until she was left gasping for air, mouth opening and closing like a fish. She twisted, writhing against the wall weakly.

Okaa-san, I think he might kill me.

"I hate your face," he breathed onto her cheek, watching as her eyelids fluttered and her mouth parted, "I hate everything about you."

No one could save her from this. No one even knew about this. She felt guilty—she had told Tatsuki-chan many times that she wouldn't let him corner her, that she would fight with everything she had at this moment. But she was staring into his dark eyes, and she was seeing Sora-nii and she was seeing was seeing happier times, her mother's warm voice and the coolness of the water.

And she was seeing Kurosaki-senpai.

He was giving that half little grin that he gave her when she said something silly. He was waving his big hand. He was standing by the lake, creating new memories and better times. He smelt like the earth and guy and happiness. He was protecting her and holding her hand and he was bonking her on the head whenever he felt the need to do so.

"K-K…urosaki-senpai…"

The last thing she saw was the lake.

Okaa-san, I think it's over.

See you again.

.

.

Ring, ring.

He groaned.

Ring, ring.

Slowly, the amber eyes opened. Grimacing deeply, the orange-haired lifted his head to see the glowing numbers on his clock.

12:33 AM.

The hell?

Ring, ring.

His phone was chirping and buzzing on his nightstand. He reached out, vision blurry, and flipped it open. Sitting up, he fought off a yawn and brought the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"…Kurosaki?"

Eyes snapping wide, he peeled the phone away for a moment and stared at the screen. It was an unfamiliar number. Bringing it back, his eyes squinted in the dark, "Arisawa?" How had she gotten his number?

Before he could even think to ask her, she was yelling, fierce and quick, and sobbing and sniffling.

"Slow down, Arisawa. I can't understand what you're—"

"Inoue! It's Inoue!"

.

.

There was a feeling in his chest.

It was cold, yet hot. It was spreading down to the rest of his body, alerting his brain. He didn't know if it was some kind of pain or the harsh reality getting to his brain, but he was running past the school, past the ramen shop, and past the river. He could think of all the times he hit her upside the head, berated her, listened to her, watched her smile.

"Kurosaki-senpai!"

He didn't think he ever moved so fast in his life. Never.

He didn't care about his family worrying, he didn't care about his aching feet, he didn't care about anything but the girl who would smile at him, tease him, and pull on his hair for attention.

It felt like nothing was moving, the world wasn't fucking moving, dammit. He felt like he couldn't breathe, like he couldn't catch his breath, and fists felt like they wouldn't stop shaking.

"Kurosaki! You're here!"

He looked up, bracing himself against his knees.

"That was quick," Tatsuki was there, eyes teary and nose red, "D-Did you run all the way here?"

Ichigo didn't bother answering her, instead allowing his eyes to land on the flashing lights behind her. Police cars, ambulance, officers standing in several spots around the house. He saw the doors of the ambulance open and then they were wheeling a gurney towards it.

"Inoue!"

He was already running towards her, and nearly knocked over one of the paramedics. Bracing his hands against the bar on her right side, he leaned over to look at her. She had a brace around her neck and several bandages on her right arm, along with a large pad on her forehead. She had never looked so small, never so delicate and fragile. He felt something in his chest flip over, maybe his heart.

But then he was touching her, cradling her face in his big hands, "Inoue. Inoue, open your eyes. Look at me."

She must've heard him because her eyes fluttered open, thick lashes pulling back to reveal her honey-brown eyes. She stared at him for a long moment, her hands clenching in the white sheets around her.

"K…Kurosaki-senpai…" She managed to whisper. "Y-You're touching my face."

He nearly laughed, but instead, grinned at her, "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"You—You're hands are really cold. Did you know that?"

He could barely hear her, she was so quiet. A complete opposite of what he was used to hearing, "Sorry. It cold outside."

"That's weird." She licked her lips slowly, "Especially since it's only September. Maybe it's because of the war in Strawberrytopia."

He wanted to hit her in the head, but instead, allowed his forehead to bump against her gently. She grinned at the contact. "Don't say stupid stuff when it's serious things going on."

She blinked her long lashes, "There's something serious going on, Kurosaki-senpai?"

He lifted himself off her the next second, his eyes burning weirdly. The paramedic gave him a weird look, but inserted an IV in Inoue's thin arm, whispering reassurances to the redhead. Orihime was calling his name though with her raspy voice before it faded out, and she was sleeping soundly, thanks to the medication.

He looked up in time to see a figure being handcuffed, wrestling angrily with the police officers. "Hey, calm down, sir!"

"You're not locking me away!" He bellowed. And then, before he knew it, there was a fist in his face. He saw a flash of orange hair over him, heard angry curses and the officers' shocked yelling.

"You disgusting bastard!"

"Sir, please let him go!"

"Grab him!"

"I'll kill you!"

"Kurosaki!"

Blood was filling his mouth. He felt the ground come up to meet him.

"I'll fucking kill you, you fucker!"

Those were the last words Inoue Aoi heard before he fell unconscious.

.

.

"The fuck happened?"

"Calm down, Grimmjow!"

"How can you tell me to calm the hell down?! She's in the hospital, Tatsuki! The hospital!"

Ulquiorra spoke up, "What is wrong with her?"

"He nearly broke her neck," Tatsuki's voice is filled with emotion, so much that Grimmjow thinks she will overflow, "Her larynx is really damaged, bruised and everything. Right now, they're trying to get the glass out of her right arm and make sure she can talk again."

Grimmjow pressed his hands to his face, "This shit is…" He was unable to finish.

Ulquiorra sighed, "And what of Kurosaki?"

.

.

The nurses gossiped a lot.

Nelliel, the new nurse working, started when she saw a tall, tall man with orange hair walk to the front desk and stop in front of her. She hung up the phone as quick as possible, staring up at the man with something akin to wonder. Wide-eyed, she watched as he placed his palm on the desk, grimacing at her.

She gasped. His scowl was scary! "M-May I help you, sir?"

His eyebrows furrowed, "Um…I'm looking for someone," Pause, "Inoue Orihime."

Quickly, she searched through the computer, eyes skimming around before landing on the girl's name. She nodded vigorously, "May I ask what your relationship is with the patient?"

His expression softened, turned unreadable, "Someone important."

She frowned, but didn't protest. She supposed she could understand that. Smiling a bit, she said, "Room 314. Have a nice day." And he grunted, nodding at her. He tucked his hands in his pockets and then walked around the desk, called the elevator, and was gone in less than five seconds.

Her heart thudded around, "Oh, wow. I thought he was going to tear my face off."

"You mean Ichigo-san?" Nanao asked, tilting her head to the side. She placed a few papers on the front desk, "Oh. He's been coming here every day. Don't worry, he looks at everyone like that."

"R-Really?" Nelliel sputtered in shock. She looked towards the direction where Ichigo had gone, "I see."

"But," Nanao held up a finger with a smile, "I know one person he doesn't look at like that."

"Who?"

"That girl upstairs."

.

.

A month passed.

Tatsuki came to visit as much as he did. Whenever she tried to talk, she told stories of Orihime's past, her mother, her brother, even her father, who was facing more than thirty years in prison. And he listened to her, listened to anything that included Orihime, his world now.

His friends and family visited, but since Orihime was unable to talk and slept for almost sixteen hours a day, they never got to see her smile or eyes, even her voice. Karin gave a thumbs-up, congratulating him on finding a girl, Yuzu nearly cried when she saw the state Orihime was in, Isshin had cried and made such a ruckus Ichigo threw him out, and his mother had smiled knowingly at him whenever he clutched at her hand like a lifeline.

"You love her, right?" She asked her son with a bright smile.

He stared at her a long moment, "Yeah. More than anything."

"Good."

He was late coming the next day. He parked his bike, taking a rest on the bench in front of the hospital. The sun was setting. It made the earth orange and honey, like her eyes. He rested his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his hands, and stared at the sun. It made his eyes burn and his heart thud loudly in his ears, thinking of the memories that happened just weeks before.

"Aaaaahh~ It's so pretty!"

His back straightened at the voice. Looking over his shoulder, he found the girl standing there, long amber hair falling down her back, large spice-brown eyes glowing as they stared at the sunset. She was dressed in a white dress, a dress that Tatsuki had left over two weeks ago. She had a large pad Band-Aid in the middle of her forehead still, and a little Band-Aid on the corner of her left hand. He knew her arm was still wrapped up, but she had on a thin pink sweater and her feet were barefoot, as usual.

"Hehe~ I surprised you, huh?"

He stood then, and she gasped dramatically.

"Oh, my Kami-sama! You've gotten taller! Impossible!"

He took a step closer, watching as she pointed at him.

"You stay away from me! Stop eating so much veggies. You're getting waaaay too tall." He was close enough to cup her cheek. He needed to feel her, to make sure she was in one piece, to make she was all there. She rose her little hands, placing them over his. Grinning, she said, "I remember your hands. They were really cold."

And then she was on her tiptoes and she was kissing him. It tasted like sunshine and love and good memories. Bittersweet and thick, just like her scent, just like her hair. He didn't know where exactly to touch her, since she was injured, so instead, he wrapped his arms around her and practically crushed her to his chest. Her kisses were like drugs, and he kissed her hard and harder. She was the one the pull back, the one to keep smiling up at him when his knees suddenly gave out.

Shit.

His whole body felt weak, tingly and weird.

He crouched down. Ichigo lowered his head into his knees, and Orihime giggled, placing her hand on his head with a big silly smile. He shoved a hand through his hair and looked up at her, dressed like an angel and she held out her little, warm hand.

"Take me to the river, please, Kurosaki-senpai!"

"Now?" he demanded, "It's October, stupid."

"Eeeeh?" She seemed startled, "I missed so much!"

He took her hand, though, raising it too his lips so that he could kiss the Band-Aid there. She blushed a soft pink, but didn't say anything else. "Are you even supposed to be up?"

"Nelliel said since I got the brace off, I should get some fresh air, it helps my throat and voice," She was smiling this time, but it was a soft, sad smile. She tugged him towards the bike, "Come on. Please. I want to go! I want to go!"

"Alright, alright." Just like old times, they boarded onto the bike and he was pedaling to his fullest speed when her arms were wrapped securely around him. She giggled and kicked her legs whenever they raced down a hill. It was night by time they made it to the Karakura Lake, watching as it shimmered with the moonlight and the sound of crickets began to emerge.

"Oh, I missed you so much!" She yelled when she got off the bike, spreading her limbs wide and raising her arms high, "I dreamed about you!" She said to the water.

"Be careful," Ichigo said as he watched her walk towards the edge of the lake, her bare feet curling against the dirt. She was quiet all of a sudden, clutching her hands to her chest, "Inoue?"

"Can you see her?" Orihime whispered, looking back at him over her shoulder before glancing towards the water again, "Can you see Okaa-san?"

His eyebrows merged and he walked until he was next to her. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he stared out in the lake, frowning, "No." He replied bluntly.

She smiled over at him, "Look harder." She pointed a finger to where the moon touched the river, "I see her every time I come here."

Ichigo squinted in the dark, lips pressed together. For the first time, he was able to see a light pink dress, ivory skin, long thick hair, and hazel eyes. He thought, for a moment, he saw a waving hand. Either he was going crazy or—

Orihime cupped her hands over her mouth and cried, "I love you, Okaa-san! I love you a lot! Very, very much!"

He looked over at her and was startled to see tears trickling down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a large amount of air, before screaming at the top of her lungs, "I'll see you again! I promise!"

Just as soon as the figure came, it was gone. Ichigo blinked, something swimming in his blood. He turned to face Orihime, and she was laughing and crying at the same time. When her knees failed her, he caught her before she could hit the ground and she wrapped her arms around him.

"Ichigo, Ichigo, Ichigo," she chanted breathlessly, and he started at his name on her lips, "Thank you, so much." He cradled her face in his large hands, pulling back so he could wipe away her tears with his thumbs. She smiled underneath his fingertips, "I'm really, really happy."

"Yeah," he rested his chin on the crown of her head.

He was happy, too.

.

.

Shit. I'm late.

It was the weekend, fresh Saturday morning. The wind was strong today, tossing orange and yellow leaves everywhere. Kicking a few out of his way, he stopped at the small complex, watching as the movers carried various boxes to an open door, right at the end. The clouds were thick, and for a second, he wondered if it would rain.

"Ah! Kurosaki! You're here!" Tatsuki waved him over from her apartment, even jumping up and down a little. A heavy-looking box was at her feet and Ichigo rushed over to help her pick it up. When he entered the home, he could smell the red bean muffins from the front door. The apartment was bigger than it looked outside. Two bedrooms, Tatsuki had said, one bathroom, and a full kitchen.

"Oh, you must be Ichigo-san," A soft voice observed. Quickly, he placed the boxes by the old-looking green couch and turned to face a black-haired woman, that looked way too much like an older version of Tatsuki, just with a kinder look in her eye. She had an apron on, and she was studying him with her reddish-hued eyes. She smiled, "I'm Tatsuki's mother. Just call me Arisawa."

"Oh," Ichigo frowned shortly, "Pardon my intruding."

"Nonsense," She batted a hand at him dismissively, "I was just about to cook dinner. I'm making Orihime-chan's favorite. It's her first night here, after all."

Ichigo gave a soft smile when he heard her name. it had been over three months since the incident. Since Orihime spent a little over a month in the hospital until she was released, it took a while to move her things out of her home and into Tatsuki's. There was a lot of paperwork to be done, a lot of court-time that she had to go to, a lot of tears and stress and his fist in many people faces.

But, somehow, she made it through, even with a smile on her face.

Tatsuki was her best friend, so therefore, she would be staying with her. Or that was the way she put it. Grimmjow didn't like the idea, since he didn't particularly like Tatsuki, and Ulquiorra didn't seem to mind. Ichigo didn't care, as long as she was safe and happy, he was happy.

There was a small, petite figure in the door, lumbering around a large box. When the little hands and thin arms placed it on the boxes, she little out a huff of exertion before revealing her face. Her hair was up today in a high ponytail and her cheeks were pink from the work. Her large eyes seemed to find Ichigo quickly, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, jabbing a finger at him.

"What're you doing here?!"

He arched a brow, "Idiot. Why would I let you move all alone?" He walked over to her, watching as she flushed and twitched adorably. He looked at the stack of boxes in front of her, "This is a lot of stuff for just you, Orihime. What'd you bring?"

She jerked, as though remembering something. She grinned up at him, yanking the tape off of one box, "Only important stuff. Like, really, really important stuff." He expected books when she peeled open the box, but instead, there was a fluffy, beady-eyed lion staring up at him and she cradled him to her face, "This is Kon-kun~ I just bought him yesterday!"

His eyebrow twitched, "I gave you that money yesterday so that you could get something to eat. Something important." He glanced back at the box, only to see it full to the rim with stuffed animals.

She pursed her lips in a pout, "This was important! A Plushy Emergency~! Up, up, and awaaaayyyy—O-Ow!" She dropped Kon and brought both hands up to grab onto her head, "Oooooow~ Kurosaki-senpai! Itai…"

He knew she only called him that when she was upset over something, or when he hit her on the head. Repeatedly, he landed karate chop after karate chop on her forehead, listening to her whine and complain. Finally, when he was done, she crouched down, cradling her head with teary eyes.

"Oh, my…" Tatsuki's mother looked worried.

Tatsuki managed a flat expression, "They do this all the time."

"You idiot!" snapped the orange-haired, "Do wise things with your money!"

Orihime shot up, still holding her head, "I do! Just two days ago, I slipped and fell in a puddle. I was soaking wet!"

Ichigo paused and then frowned, trying to remember why he hadn't been there. He would've caught her. "Oh, yeah? Are you alright? Did you hit your head?" He was inspecting her now.

She gave an exuberant thumbs-up, a bright smile on her face, "My hair was ruined, but my panties were A-OK!"

A vein pounded in his temples. He shouted at her belligerently, "Don't talk about your panties!"

Tatsuki's mother looked at her daughter as she scooped up another box, "Are you sure they act like this all of the time?"

.

.

Oooohooooo~LONG, LONG one-shot, lovelies! Over 30 pages. Meh, whatever. But sorry to the people who read this earlier, I changed around a few things, including the ending. I didn't like how I ended it before, so I just took off some dialogue and left it more sweet and romantic. Well'p, now I like how it turned out!

I wanted Orihime to say goodbye to her mother, let go of her past, and be with Ichigo. I love the way they bickered, the way Ichigo acted around her, and the way he fell in love with her. Um, and the relationship between Grimmjow and Ulquiorra and Orihime is kind of complicated. At first, I was gonna make it apart of the story that they were in some type of gang and got injured, and Orihime was there to tend to their wounds. Maybe I'll make a companion piece to this story to show how they met and everything. Plus, maybe a little short story about Orihime mom's life, about Sora, and everything. Yeah, that'll be nice. Eeeep! Ideas!

Anywaaays, I have to update Her and Hidden Screams. To Pass By too. I wonder how you guys will react to this one-shot. I hope you guys like it~ It makes me happy to see your feedback. Silly ending~

(IMPORTANT NOTE: AAAANDD, I changed it again. Sorry to earlier readers. Had to do it. I didn't like how abruptly I left it. Well'p, there you go. Finished prduct. No longer editing it, I swear~)

Plus, review please. Love you guys, so so so so much!

-Star