You were miles away from everything you knew and nothing here smelled familiar. The kitchen table was dressed with a white cloth, embroidered in roses, and the older woman sitting across from you had the same colored eyes you do, but they looked nothing like your father's. The glass of water sitting before you wept and wept, the glass clinking as it melted, and you could only twist your fingers into the hem of your shirt. Uncertain of yourself.
You and your brother arrived at her doorstep one rainy night and she looked at you as if you were a pest, a roach crawling across her kitchen tiles. But she hadn't turned you away, and in the darkness, sharing a futon on her living room floor, your brother mumbled to you, “This is only temporary. We're safe here. I promise.”
Sora was working today, too, and again your aunt glanced at the calendar casually. As if to remind you of temporary, of the ticking clock on the wall. She never said it aloud, but it sat in the air; it weighed heavily on the back of your neck.
Today was the third day. She had given you and Sora two weeks to find a place of your own, and while on that rainy night it had seemed like an endless amount of time, now you are realizing that it was hardly a kindness. Your brother toiled day in and day out, back when it was later than late and gone again before the sun was up. You are lonely and scared, but you can't show it, even now.
Either way, your aunt was kind enough to lend you a few dresses from the attic. The ones she might have worn as a child herself. They are made of a stiff material and smell old and stale. When you told her you did not know how to shower alone, something twisted up behind her gaze. And you recognized the look, but your aunt was quick to smother it before it could fester between you.
The water hit you dead on and you shrank from it for a second. Her nails scraped slightly as she lathered soap into your greasy hair, and this was easy. This was familiar. But when your aunt tugged at one of your arms suddenly, you locked up instinctively.
Her eyes have found the marks on your skin and this was about the time she decided she did not want to know the gritty details Sora had yet to skim over with her. She set the washcloth into your hand and told you, “There are parts of you that no one is allowed to touch without your permission. Not even family.”
Dinner that night was silent. She made vegetable soup and did not let you leave the table until you ate every last drop. You were so full, you were immediately drowsy. Sleep that night was dreamless and before you knew it, morning light was filtering through the pretty curtains. And for once, you did not feel dizzy with hunger.
Sora snored from beside you, clearly exhausted.
In the kitchen, your aunt laid out a full breakfast. And as you pulled out a chair, she said, “Tell you what. Something ever happens and your brother isn't there to hear it, you come to me."
You weren't sure what it was you found so comforting about her, but in that moment you felt as if she completely understood you, looking at you as if you weren't a child –
She willed you to pick up on her meaning, and for once you were grateful that you saw far too much.
.x.
The two weeks passed and in that blip of time, you felt as if some puzzle piece had fallen into place inside of you.
The new apartment was small, but for the first time you had your own bedroom.
For the first few weeks you had nothing more than a thin mattress and some borrowed blankets to sleep on, a plastic crate to keep your scant belongings in, and an old backpack to take to school. When you got your new uniform, you took to hanging it on the hook on the back of the door. Your brother never said it, but there was much care to be put into keeping up appearances. He invested in an iron and a board to lay your clothes on. The wrinkles smoothed away so no one could tell you live off of packaged noodles and canned food, so no one could see the leak in your ceiling or the locks on your doors; the way your brother bolted them shut every night with sweat dribbling down his temple.
More and more furniture turned up the more hours your brother took at work; a kitchen table, two rickety chairs, a bedframe for your mattress, a tiny sofa, an old television, plates and pans and cups and a sieve. There was a stack of books in the corner of your room that soon had a desk to sit on; you read through them every night until he figured out how to find channels on the TV.
“Things are looking up,” Sora said, and you had to agree.
There was more food on the table and you didn't go to bed with a burn in your stomach anymore. The apartment was beginning to look a lot like home now and when the day came that he finally hung a framed photo of the two of you in the living room, you felt your heart swell and for once you did not wonder if you are normal.
School did not become easier. You heard someone say that it was easy to tell who someone was by the state of their shoes and so you sat on the ground by the front door rubbing the scuffs from their leather faces with a rag until you could see the hallway light reflected back.
The girls at school pulled your hair, and you did not understand why. No one told you that people could be needlessly cruel like this — you’d never known someone you didn’t love to hurt you.
Something tightened behind your brother’s gaze but he did not say a word. When you returned to school the next week, your hair was finely chopped at your chin and you spent the rest of the year silent and uninteresting. The girls began to ignore you and you think this was a better fate, coming home now meant a new relief. There were no bruises on your arms anymore and for the first time since you could remember, you did not have to hide behind excuses when the nurse asked why there was a band-aid on your knee.
“I fell,” you said, and this was not a lie.
.x.
“Call me Tatsuki,” she said, wiping the back of her hand over her cheek. You could see the faint traces of scars on her legs and elbows, but the intense wave of worry you felt fell away when she told you, “I’m gonna be a champion one day.”
You found comfort in her. She was the first person you have talked to in a long time that did not share your blood. You were taken by her words, her low voice and her opinions, her laughter and her jokes. She was fresh, a new presence in your life you had not known you’d craved. At school, she swept in before the other kids could crowd in on you and drew you out with stories of tournaments and playground soccer games and her dreams of becoming famous one day.
You never invited her to your apartment.
Her parents were nice and friendly and there were photos pinned all over their walls. There was a smell to her home that was unique, made your very heart ache for a reason you could not comprehend.
“He was my best friend,” she said when she caught you lingering by a frame, tucked behind the others on the bookcase. She was little in this one, and she was grinning toothily, arm draped carelessly over the thin shoulders of a boy with orange hair and wide eyes. “We kinda grew apart.”
You might have caught glimpses of him at school, in some other class. But it was moments before you realized he was the same person. He was a little taller now, and his eyes were a completely different shape.
You hummed, surprised. “What happened?”
It was the first time she became evasive, and you knew well enough not to pry when one did. “Things changed for him at home. I guess he had to grow up quicker and he didn’t have time for the stuff we used to do anymore.”
You nodded, and then rubbed the thin layer of dust collecting on the glass.
“He has a new friend now, though,” she shrugged, turning away. “Good guy, real big. And he and I still hang out every now and then to play video games. We’re just not as close as before. Can’t talk the same anymore.”
The next time you saw him at school, it was from afar. He was leaning out an open window watching a few birds flutter about on the grass.
You wondered what kind of person he used to be.
.x.
Tatsuki promised to protect you, but you did not allow yourself to settle into this thought. There had been times in your life when promises could not be kept and you had learned that this could not be helped.
The dog, the new toys, the broken crayons, the bruises and shattered beer bottles and muffled screams through paper thin walls — these things take time and sometimes they take too long. Sometimes they never come at all.
Such was life.
And such was the way those nails found their way into the skin of your arm, the hissing insults those girls made, the way they spat you ugly and unwanted.
These things lived in conflict with one another, as sometimes when you’re sitting alone at the park waiting for her to return with a bag of chips to share, there was a boy with eyes that made your skin crawl, with sticky hands that liked to crawl unwanted up knees.
There was the recollection of a time before now, how the word no held little meaning and the response was always shut up and here, the faltering beats of your heart and the cold sweat beginning to layer your palms came natural. The proper response was never taught to you but you knew enough to slide away, to clamp your legs shut and dig the heels of your hands into them.
You could only speak using your body; there was no one here to show you how to use your voice and you were too afraid to ask at this point.
Tatsuki always returned in the nick of time, but you did not take this for granted.
Life was not like in the story books.
Sometimes one did not show up in the nick of time.
.x.
Some nights before, some comedy show had come on and in a struck of brilliance your brother had suggested pizza. You had gathered up on the living room floor with blankets and soda and chips and turned the lights off as he paid the delivery boy. You stuffed yourself silly and woke up briefly as he carried you to your bed and tucked the blankets in close to you. The dreams you had that night were pleasant and harmless, morning was hours away and for once it felt like that was the case. When you woke, your brother was in the process of cooking breakfast and he smiled when he saw you yawning in the doorway. A long shower and you were pulling your uniform on, leaning your bag up against the couch and joining him for a plate.
You both left at the same time, and as you walked, he told you about his plans for the day. He was to be paid, and he figured some time out having fun wouldn’t hurt the budget too bad. Some new movie had come out and he figured you’d like it, and if you played your cards right you could sneak in some snacks and drinks from the convenience store.
“Theater food is overpriced,” he told you, smiling. “And they don’t have your favorite brand anyway.”
You had not been to the movies in years, and you could hardly remember how the experience had gone. Excitement rose up inside of you, burst across your face in a grin as he ruffled your hair.
The morning sun was gentle, peering from behind pale clouds and painting the town cool and soft. This moment felt so warm in your chest you felt as if nothing could steal it, it stretched out endlessly before you and you knew nothing else. This was your life now, scattered with stars just like a nighttime sky was. And at the center, your brother glowed just like the moon. Steady and reassuring and full.
To be reminded of temporary was the worst fate had done to you, and this would always be the case.
Such was life.
.x.
Your aunt greeted you at the front door with placid eyes and a deep frown. Her home had changed very little. The flower patterns on the drapes, the ticking clock on the wall, the smell of age overcoming her and the perfume she layered over it. She left the plastic crate on the coffee table and made her way into the kitchen to brew some tea. She didn't ask you what happened; no doubt the reason you were sent here was by your brother’s doing.
“They gave me his photo,” she said as she poured you a cup to drink. “I figure you’d put better use to it.”
You spent the night and it was only the smell of clean linens that pulled you to sleep. Again, you were awoken by the smell of breakfast and she was sitting with a small stack of newspapers and magazines.
“The worst thing I can do to you is take away what you already have. But you can’t go back to that apartment. It will only make things worse.” She folded back the newspaper and leaned into her seat. “So we’ll make a deal. You’ll go back to your school and move on with your life. And I’ll help you get by.”
You didn't ask her to soften her tone, or to take pity on you in this moment. Your shoulders sagged at the weight of what happened, body curling in on itself at the gaping hole in your chest. Your nails dug into your palms and you found it hard to breathe.
But you were mildly grateful, she was not looking at you like a broken thing. You were the same little girl that came with too many ghosts, with violets blooming under the clothes, with eyes that looked just like and yet nothing at all like her brother’s.
“You’ll make it through this,” she said, and you had to believe her.
.x.
Tatsuki treated you different now. Not like you’re fragile, but like more things could sink their fingers into you, and this was not far from the truth. She didn't promise to fix you, or to take the pain away, and this was how you knew she had grown.
Impossible was now a word you could both understand.
The new apartment was only a little bigger than the last, and you have your own room, your own bathroom, your own kitchen and living room and windows and sinks. It was a safer area than the last and both your neighbors were small families. You took your time saving money at the end of each month, whatever your aunt spared you. Lasting foodstuffs, simpler furniture, small knickknacks, clothes that fit your ever growing body, and the candles you lit before your brother’s picture frame.
You spent hours after school praying and hours after that apologizing. You told him about your day, about your new friends, how different high school was. You talked until there was nothing left to say, until there was nothing more than the heartbeat in your ears and the blurry smile he was making at you.
To sleep now was to stifle each lingering thought left over, what you had remembered to tell him for the next day and what he’d never hear no matter how hard you tried. You allowed them to consume you in the darkness of your room and to wither away in the morning light.
Tatsuki treated you different now. She showed up at your door with a bag of food and a small smile and sometimes didn't leave until it was pitch black and dangerous outside.
“Nothing can hurt me as much as I can hurt it,” she said, when you voiced your concern.
You wished you could keep this mindset, too.
.x.
At first, he was a means of distraction. Your brother had taught you when you were a child to look at something standing still to keep from falling over, and the boy with the strange colored hair became just that.
Everything was spinning all around you, always, and he was still. The only semblance of normalcy you could grasp onto -- after all, how could you quell these sorts of feelings? How could you stop yourself from having crushes? This was how you remembered you were still human, still just a girl in the grand scheme of things.
You had little contact at the beginning. You hardly recalled him as the one who’d answered the door to your desperate calls, who had relieved you of the crushing weight of the whole world and had watched you with steady, knowing eyes as you received the news.
There were no good rumors about this battered boy. Every bandage came with a story. Every shifting glance a whispered warning. You half believed them at the beginning. The bruised knuckles, the sleepless shadows under his eyes, the way he snarled at the boys who refused to leave him be. It struck an old, familiar fear in you and you didn't ask any questions, at first.
But one day you bumped into him in the hallway and he was all soothing tones, all worried glances down your frame, all sheepish apologies stumbling out of him.
One day you caught him pulling down a book from the top shelf for someone else. One day you found him guiding a spider onto a window ledge, feeding some hungry squirrel his scraps, picking up the fallen, scattered pages for some girl. One day, some days, he was unspeakably, unknowably kind. He treated these acts of kindness as if there were nothing at all. Someone rushed out a thank you and he shrugged.
He always shrugged. As if they meant absolutely nothing at all.
But to you, to someone fractured like you, they were everything in the world.
.x.
“Of all people?” Tatsuki was incredulous, her nose wrinkling as if the very thought filled her with disgust. “Him?”
You toiled with shame, and not because of her reaction. In another life, you would have really liked to simply call him a friend. But these feelings complicated everything. The simplest interactions with him had you reeling, trying not to stumble over yourself. As if to be touched by him, however innocently, however briefly, was to be touched by an angel. It made you wither inside, disappointed with yourself for warping his intentions in that way. But how to help it?
How to make the heart turn the other cheek?
“Well, I guess you could do worse,” she muttered at last, arms folded. “He's not...awful.”
“No?” you asked, as if you needed the assurance. You knew he wasn't awful. He was wonderful, really.
“Never heard a single disrespectful thing leave that boy's mouth, about women.” She tilted her head to one side, then rushed to say, “Oh, he's disrespectful, alright. But only if you have it coming. He'd never treat you like a piece of meat – is what I'm getting at. And he has two little sisters, so you know he'll be protective.”
You smiled. “Your blessing, Tatsuki?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You could do worse. You could also do better, though.”
.x.
Either way, Tatsuki was the bridge that connected you to him. Always facilitating interactions, and shamelessly, covertly, interjecting little hints into your conversations regardless of how panicked you looked. But Ichigo was either obstinate or deaf, for all the good it did.
“Still single?” Tatsuki asked, jabbing her fingers into Ichigo's ribs in such a familiar way it unfortunately made your chest tighten at the sight.
“Stop that,” he snapped at her, pushing her hand away. “Yeah, still single. Same as I was last week and the week before. Quit asking, you freak.”
Even if you no longer saw him as a distraction, something about this fixation managed to pull you from the depths of your grief. You still curled in on yourself when you were alone, still felt as if longing were attempting to claw its way out from your throat in the middle of the night, remembering, remembering – trying not to remember – but it was tempered now with these newest memories.
Ichigo laughing at a misplaced joke of yours, the sound ringing in your ears hours after the fact. Ichigo sparing a quick smile in passing. Ichigo offering to walk you home when he ran into you after school, or handing you the extra soda he'd purchased from the vending machine wordlessly. His tiny acts of kindness he never brought attention to. The one person in the group noticing you didn't bring lunch to school again.
They filled in the empty spaces within you. When you told Sora about your day, these moments poured out of you like water from an open faucet. One day, you found yourself laughing as you recalled Ichigo's grumpy face as his friends dog-piled onto him about nothing, and you caught yourself. The laughter dying in your chest, your eyes wide as you realized that you didn't feel lonely anymore.
That maybe you hadn't in a while now.
You felt tears spilling hot down your cheeks and for once, it was from relief.
i can’t believe i’ve been reading ichihime fanfics for literally 10 years ✌️ my favorite flavor is definitely pining with a touch of angst, but i am also a sucker for just them giggly all over each other! thank you bleach TYBW anime revival for bringing me back to these two cutie patooties and an even bigger thank you to all the writers that have been keeping the fandom alive all these years (especially in the earlier days back in the wild wild west of ff.net and LJ lol) y'all are amazing 💖 happy reading everyone
p.s you can find the rest of my fic rec lists here
🍓 alternate universe 🍞
THE BRIDE OF THE DEATH GOD by caledon
A plague descended upon the village, and to appease the God of Death they offered him a bride as a sacrifice.
THE DEVIL’S PLAYTHING by marshmallowbirb
High-schooler Kurosaki Ichigo discovers that he isn’t as human as he once thought - and neither is his classmate, Inoue Orihime.
THE RELUCTANT BRIDEGROOM, DEATH by marshmallowbirb
On a sunny summer morning, the young goddess Orihime gathers flowers on a hillside.
STARCROSS’D by child of the ashes
In the vampire palace of Los Noches, there is no greater curse than beauty, and no greater crime than love.
NEXT VISIT by aurona x
She can see him only with autumn comes, that man of the deep blue tree. And over the years, her love for him grows.
MOTHERHOOD by ashe flyght
Orihime’s family is financially unstable. So when Japan’s most in demand actor, Kurosaki Ichigo offers her an unusual job will she accept it?
FINE LINES by lastlynotleast
Ichigo is a tattoo artist and Orihime has skin he could draw on forever.
🍓 multichapter 🍞
THE BOND BETWEEN US by ritsu-san
Post Ch. 352: Ichigo and Orihime are left to figure out this strange bond they share.
TIL DEATH DO US PART by marshmallowbirb
Deemed too powerful, Ichigo is sequestered in Soul Society after defeating Aizen. Ten years later, one of his human friends dies.
THE CLOCKWORK SWITCH by sesamerolls (1 // 2 // 3)
“Kurosaki-kun?” She wanted to bite back her words. This person couldn’t be him. He was a few inches taller, broader, and manlier than the youth who gave her daifuku just minutes before.
🍓 oneshots that will make you feeeeel 🍞
DEMAGNETIZE by ghosty
If opposites attract, then what does that mean for us?
TACTILE by mrhooty
Orihime has accepted that her boundaries will never be respected, but Ichigo is too good of a friend to allow that.
AFFIRMATION by sesamerolls
Ichihime from the beginning to the end.
HOME IS WHERE THE SUN SETS by awkwardspaceturtle
Using the word ‘beautiful’ didn’t seem like enough; nothing he could ever say out loud would tell her how she really looked in his eyes.
BUILD A HOUSE IN PARADISE by zabiume
Ichigo and Orihime move in together.
PAPER HOUSES by zabiume
Mostly, he just wanted to know if she was okay, if she was eating well and passing her courses and if, when she went to bed at night, she had someone to smile about.
PROMPTFILL by zabiume
Truth serum induced angst.
PROMPTFILL by captainrukias-husband
Ichigo writes a poem for Orihime.
TEMPTARE BEAST by mayelisa
As Orihime watched in horror as Ichigo took on that form again, she had a sinking feeling that this day wouldn’t turn out at all like she had planned.
MEMORIES IN THE RAIN by garden of magnolias
If I were the rain, could I connect with someone’s heart, as the rain can unite the eternally separated earth and sky?
ALWAYS SUMMER by folle
Orihime is calling, calling, and Ichigo doesn’t know how to not answer, except in the most important way.
BECOMING WHOLE by lovelycollision
He loves her in various ways, during different stages of his life. It’s after the war when he realizes that he’s in the third stage, otherwise known as the beginning.
🍓 outside POV looking in 🍞
ELEVATING by sesamerolls
“Okay, let’s theoretically agree Ichi-nii has a girlfriend,” said Karin, resting her palm underneath her chin.
SIMPLY BY MEASUREMENT by sesamerolls
When it first began, he pretended not to notice.
PROMPTFILL by scribblles
Ichigo screwed up his befuddlement into a distinctly grumpy expression. “For your information, I wasn’t daydreaming, I was thinking. Worrying, actually. And it’s about a friend. Who… happens to be a girl.”
🍓 funny fluffy oneshots 🍞
OF MICE AND MEN by garden of magnolias
Ichigo realizes that getting rid of a mouse in his and Orihime’s apartment is a lot more complicated when it involves his girlfriend.
I REJECT! by scribblles
Keigo has a rare moment of inadvertent correctness.
RUMOUR HAS IT by fictionaryplace
Ichigo and Orihime have important news, but decide to have a little fun with their friends and family before coming clean.
DELAYED REACTION by crystal dawn
Orihime is feeling under the weather. Against his better judgment, Ichigo suggests she visit his father’s clinic.
ICED FRAPPUCCINO by hedonysms
Ichigo and Orihime get a coffee. Ichigo is simultaneously an emotional sap and a horny, utterly repressed man.
STARTING FRESH by kay sincere
Ichigo doesn’t have a resolution for the new year himself. But it does come to his attention that his friends could use his help.
NOSEBLEED by deathberryhime
Where that little smile would have done more damage than intended to.
OUR BREATHS IN PERFECT HARMONY by iwillhaveamoonbase
When Ichigo’s friend talks about a cute girl at a bakery, Ichigo agrees to introduce them with no idea that the girl in question is his girlfriend.
WELL WISHERS by adverb_slut
It turns out that shinigami are not so great at gift-buying, especially for a four-week-old baby.
THE ART OF SHIPPING by alice hattercandy
In which, everyone ships. Even Ichigo.
🍓 anything and everything by these authors 🍞
SESAMEROLLS
CAPTAINRUKIAS-HUSBAND
ZABIUME (tumblr // ao3)
SCRIBBLLES
CRYSTALDAWN / MARSHMALLOWBIRB (ffnet // ao3)
ORIHIMES
RITSU-SAN (more on their LJ sunburnt-wings)
TRAGICOMEDY (more on their LJ explicates)
IT’S SUMMERTIME! AKA another reason to celebrate Ichigo & Orihime!
You know how it goes; this is a chance for fans to post any and all kinds of IchiHime content, including fanart, graphics/edits, fanfics, playlists, analyses, headcanons, fan videos, and more! This event will take place from July 9th through July 15th 2023!
HERE ARE THIS ROUND’S PROMPTS:
DAY 01, JULY 9TH: Tanabata / previous lives (emphasis Orihime’s confession)
DAY 02, JULY 10TH: We Do Knot Always Love You (emphasis Ichigo’s confession)
DAY 03, JULY 11TH: Date / Fireworks
DAY 04, JULY 12TH: Engagement
DAY 05, JULY 13TH: Summer Wedding
DAY 06, JULY 14TH: Honeymoon trip
DAY 07, JULY 15TH: Kazui (his birth, pregnancy announcement, etc)
Thanks, all! Super excited to see what you make! ♥
oh ive got a great one. the first fanfic i ever wrote was a super mario bros fanfic when i was nine years old. but when i opened microsoft word on the family computer there was a bunch of words already on the page, so i deleted it all in order for nothing to interrupt my super mario bros storys flow. i wrote the whole thing in a day and was very proud and saved it. two days later my dad sits me down and explains to me that hes had a lot of trouble finding a job since he got laid off, and that hes been sending his resume to dozens of employers. he asks me if i know what a resume is. i say no. he explains to me what a resume is, and then informs me that the words i deleted on the microsoft word page was his resume and hes been sending dozens of employers his nine year old daughters super mario bros fanfiction. i was never allowed on the family computer again.
Rise and shine lovely ichihime fandom ! To celebrate the return of the anime, we we are hosting an ICHIHIME MONTH in collaboration with the wonderful @rozuberry!!
How to participate? You can contribute to Ichihime Month by creating whatever you want! All must be original made by you! (Avoid creating hateful posts!). The 4th, 11th, 18th and 25th are days off! So take a break! Don’t forget to add the #IchihimeMonth tag to your work!
If you have any questions about the prompts or anything, send me an ask or write a comment below!
All the artworks willl be reblogged on this blog so if I don’t reblog yours you can send me an ask !
Around half past ten, Orihime began to feel her eyelids grow heavy. The thick, heady atmosphere of the local bar had become overwhelming a couple of hours ago, but she had fought through it then on account of her friends. They were having a good time. She couldn't bring herself to ruin that.
If nothing else, she would need to see her best friend home safely. She had watched with bated breath as Tatsuki tossed back glass after glass of beer.
This wasn’t something they did, she and her friends, but it had been some time since they had all hung out and since that last time, not all of them had been of drinking age. As much as she had wanted to say no, she couldn’t deny their enthusiasm.
She’d been working on the same glass for the past two hours, truth be told. It was warm now, and hadn’t tasted very good to begin with. They were all half-tucked into a booth in some corner, and of course Tatsuki and Keigo were being particularly rowdy.
The bar itself was loud. Music blared, and several groups of salarymen shouted and laughed around them. This must have been a standard Friday night. Personally, after a work shift and a couple of classes, she felt a little too drained to be here.
Beside her, Tatsuki had begun to sing. Her body swayed against hers, hiccupping and giggling and shrieking when one of the boys chimed in with all the wrong words.
The booth formed a half-circle. The spot beside her had remained vacant most of the night, but right now, Ichigo scooted into that space as Keigo forced himself across the laps of their friends. His smile was an oasis, he leaned into her for a second to ask, “You okay, Inoue?”
“I’m okay,” she mumbled back, closing her fingers around her glass.
“Not really my scene, either,” he said.
She noted that he hadn’t had very much of his own drink.
“Wanna go outside for a bit?” he asked her.
After some shuffling around – forcing their friends out of the booth to let them out – they made their way out to fresh air.
It was the dead of winter. For the first moment or so she didn’t notice she’d forgotten her jacket. The cluttered heat of the bar had left her warm enough, but as they chose a spot away from the entrance, the chill began to shiver through her.
“How was work today?” he asked her. His jacket had also been left behind, but he managed to look much cozier than she felt. He wore a thick knitted sweater, patterned in black and dark gray, and a pair of old combat boots.
“It was okay,” she said, folding her arms against herself. She thought about leaving it at that, but the way he looked at her made her feel as if he knew there was more she wanted to say.
His smile was gentle and prompting, and his gaze was warm.
“My – My boss asked me how I felt about learning the trade a little more,” she said softly.
“More recipes?” he asked. His expression was telling. As much as he teased about the bread, he definitely never refused them.
“Well, the business aspect.” She rubbed her hands together, watching a group spill out from the bar. More salarymen, hanging off of each other for dear life. “I’ve been in charge of the marketing for a while – apparently! I thought posting on our social media accounts was just for fun, but he said it’s a big part of marketing. Today, he showed me our preferred vendors, then he showed me how we pay them. And then he showed me the budget and stuff.”
“He’s showing you how to run the business,” Ichigo said, brows raised. “Is he trying to promote you?”
“Not sure,” she murmured, before breathing onto her hands. “It was pretty quick. He had me back at the front end afterwards.”
“Would you want to run the business?”
“That’s the million dollar question,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. “Is this what I want? I can’t figure out what I want to study. It feels like I’ve hit a wall and I’m running out of time.”
“That’s not true,” he said softly. “You have plenty of time to decide.”
“I mean, you say that, but…”
“No, I mean that,” he continued. He had moved a little closer, and in the remaining space between them she could feel the warmth radiating off of him. She felt herself trembling, and she ground her teeth together to keep them from chattering. “You’re so smart, Inoue. You’ll figure it out, and even if you don’t…”
He hesitated, and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say. His fingers curled and uncurled into the sleeve of his opposite arm, thinking, but he never continued the thought.
“Hey, buddy!” a foreign voice shouted at them.
They both jumped a little in response. The group that had spilled out of the bar had found a little spot in the middle of the street, half of them sitting on the ground and the other half trying to map their way back to their homes. And at that moment, one of them – sitting with his legs splayed and his shirt fully unbuttoned – was shouting at them both.
Face red, words slurred, he said specifically to Ichigo: “Buddy! Are you blind or something? Your girl is freezing her ass off out here! Share a little of that body heat, would you?”
Ichigo’s head jerked toward her, and before she could start in on reassurances and downplaying and such, he quickly took both her hands in his.
His warmth was blissful, and while she shut her eyes, allowing him to link his fingers through her own, he hissed at how cold her hands were. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he mumbled, pulling her hands toward him. He cupped them toward his mouth and she couldn’t even bring herself to feel embarrassed when he started breathing warmth back into them.
“I barely noticed,” she said.
“Liar.”
A nervous giggle bubbled from her chest before she could help it.
“Let’s go inside.”
Tatsuki half stood on the seat, clutching Orihime’s coat in one hand and banging the other fist against the table. As soon as she spotted them she yelled, “There you are – forgot your jacket! What were you thinkin’!”
Ishida, who looked decidedly more sober than her, collected the coat before Tatsuki could spill anything with it. “I think it’s time we call it a night,” he said as he placed it in Orihime’s hands.
“One more round!” Keigo shouted over him.
Orihime shrugged on the coat as the waitress was flagged down. Outside, their friends spilled into separate cars. Mizuiro manned one, which even in Tatsuki’s state of mind she refused to get into. Sado, Ishida, and Keigo looked very much like a group of clowns squeezing into his sedan with him.
Ichigo manned the only other car. He half-carried Tatsuki – her arms wound about his neck as she mumbled nonsense into his ear – and tucked her into the backseat carefully. She sprawled across it, and for several minutes Ichigo struggled to get her to curl her legs into the car. Tatsuki giggled uncontrollably, kicking, and Ichigo cursed quietly as he caught at her ankles to stop her.
“Tatsuki,” Orihime chastised softly, reaching for her from the passenger seat. It settled her pretty quickly, and Ichigo was finally able to shut the door safely.
“Okay,” he sighed as he finally settled into the driver’s seat. “What’s the plan?”
“I’ll have her stay the night with me,” Orihime said. “She might get a little sick tonight.”
“Good thinking,” he replied, and routed them to her apartment.
She led him into her room, where they carefully tucked Tatsuki into bed. “Thanks for helping,” she said as she shut out the lights.
“Don’t mention it,” he sighed, rolling his shoulders. “Just wanted to see you home.”
“Are you thirsty or anything?” she asked, smiling.
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