hali: fold, sidewalk & paintbrush
Happy April Fools' Day! :D (thank goodness it's not my birthday! XD)
ichigo♥orihime.
FOLD
This is weird. Ochi-sensei is late!
Orihime pouts and looks down to her notes. Absent-mindedly, she begins to doodle randomly, giggling as she writes ICHIGO X ORIHIME FOREVER.
This makes her giggle a lot; Tatsuki glances at her but shrugs and looks away, bored. Hmm… She looks outside; she likes to keep her window open. Outside, it’s such a beautiful but windy day. Her caramel eyes drift upwards to the blue sky and she thinks, to be a bird and fly~
Orihime’s smile widens as an idea crosses her mind. She looks down to her notebook and using her amazing drawing skills, draws a small caricature of Ichigo and herself. She laughs to herself, which attracts a couple of stares from Tatsuki, Ichigo and some. But being her blissfully oblivious self, Orihime keeps doodling and writing,
ICHIGO LOVES ORIHIME
ICHIGO AND ORIHIME
Grinning and still oblivious from the stares, she tears off the pages, folds it, making a paper plane. She cannot fly to sky and take her wish to the heavens, but airplanes can fly, can’t they?
Well, she’ll have to send it to the sky her way.
Giddy like a child, she throws it outside and the breeze, oh the breeze, playfully changes its direction and it waves the paper plane back to her. Orihime raises her hands to catch it but it flies past her fingers, drifts steadily as if it has a mind of its own and lands… OH NO!
Ichigo blinks and looks down at his desk. A paper plane has landed. Despite himself, he smirks. He picks it up, examines it and notices that there are words written on the paper. Curious, he moves to unfold it -
“STOP!” screams Orihime.
Huh?
Ichigo and the rest of the class look at the red-faced auburn-haired girl.
Orihime is shaking, red-faced, a hand in the air like a traffic enforcer.
“Inoue?” says Ichigo, confused.
“D-Don’t open it, please!!!”
“But…” Ichigo looks at the paper plane, brows furrowed, terribly, oh so terribly curious. The letterings are beckoning him to read them. And he vaguely makes out a few characters.
I…chi-
“NOOOOO~” Orihime’s voice makes Ichigo look at her again. “I beg you or else… or else…” It’s not her personality to threaten, Ichigo thinks. For Orihime’s part, she feels like the universe is making fun of her. The wind is blowing that way- why does it suddenly change its mind?!
The… universe hates me!
“Or else… Or else… t-the Martians will come to eat us alive and you don’t want to be trapped inside their bellies, right, so please don’t… Um, um… UWAH~” To Ichigo’s shock, the gentle girl pounces on him, surprising Tatsuki (and later, she is impressed at her boldness) and yanks the paper plane from his hand. Before he could react, Orihime is running outside, past Ochi-sensei.
“OI, INOUE!”
“I HAVE TO PEE!”
“You’re a girl! You can hold it for an hour!”
“BUT IT HURTS IT HURTS~” yells Orihime over her shoulder, jogging but not moving on her spot.
“Alright~ have fun! You can go back after an hour or more! Oi, Asano, where are you going?”
“I HAVE TO PEE!”
“SIT!”
“But- THAT’S UNFAIR~ FAVORITISM, I SAY!”
Dark amber eyes half-lidded, Ichigo casually leans forward in his seat, his chin on his palm, his eyes averted to the side where Orihime sits.
Paper planes, huh?
SIDEWALK
AU
i.
One Saturday Spring morning, at eight o clock in the morning, in front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on a busy cobblestone sidewalk.
He is going to east.
She is going to west.
He does not look back.
She does not look back.
He goes to east.
She goes to west.
ii.
He does not look special, but he stands out in the crowd. His hair is bright, brighter in the sunshine. He wears a scowl like a second skin and he seems to be always in deep thought. With his brows furrowed like that, he looks like someone who thinks deeply.
She does not look special, but she stands out in the crowd. Her hair is red, not blood red, but orange red that attracts stares all the time. Her eyes are wide, too big in her face, but it suits her. Those eyes make her look younger. She smiles a lot, this girl.
One Saturday morning, at eight fifteen in the morning, in front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on a busy cobblestone sidewalk.
He is going to east.
She is going to west.
He does not look back.
She does not look back.
He goes to east.
She goes to west.
iii.
One Saturday summer morning, in front of an ice cream shop, at eight twenty two, he is going to east. She is going to west.
A phone rings. He stops, “Hello?”
An envelope falls and its contents spill. She stops, “Oh my.”
In four seconds, they are standing on the same spot, separated by a cell phone and an envelope.
The conversation concludes.
The contents are gathered.
At eight twenty seven, in front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on a busy cobblestone sidewalk.
He does not look back.
She does not look back.
He goes to east.
She goes to west.
iv.
He is going to east.
She is going to west.
That day, above them, the clouds are gathering, like bunches of many, many, many cotton candies inside a transparent plastic bag, a plastic bag that is as big as the sky.
At nine fifteen, the many, many, many cotton candies weep and their tears drench the land. Children run, adults run, he walks, she walks.
In front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on that busy, very wet cobblestone sidewalk.
He is under his coat which he drapes over his head.
She is under her too-bright yellow umbrella.
He does not look back.
She does not look back.
He goes to east.
She goes to west.
v.
One Saturday Autumn morning, in front of an ice cream shop, they approach each other on a busy cobblestone street.
“Ichigo.”
He lifts his eyes.
“Orihime!”
She looks up from a novel she reads.
He smirks.
She grins.
They walk past by each other.
“Chad.”
“Tatsuki-chan!”
He exchange high fives with the person behind her; she hugs the person behind him.
He does not look back.
She does not look back.
He goes to east.
She goes to west.
vi.
It is winter. Snowstorms are rare, but the snow falls steadily. The ice cream shop is open but empty. The cobblestone street is empty as well except for two individuals who live in two different galaxies.
He is going to east, she is going to west.
Wise men say
He looks tired and grumpy; he wears a coat and a maroon scarf, his gloves are black.
Only fools rush in
She is singing, but her words are stumbling out of her mouth; it is cold and she is shivering. She forgets her coat somewhere, but she has her scarf, her mittens and her green boots.
But I can’t help…
Falling in love with
He frowns curiously and looks up; she twirls once and looks up.
You
Their eyes meet.
vii.
One Saturday Spring morning, at eight o clock in the morning, in front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on a busy cobblestone sidewalk.
He is going to east.
She is going to west.
He looks back.
She looks back.
PAINTBRUSH
Once upon a time, there’s a sewing princess in white who gets lost in a dessert, wanders inside a white tower, gets stuck there for an hour, stares up to her window and waits for…
“Aliens!”
But no, according to chapter what-is-it, there comes a hero in black who rides an invisible white horse, races across the dessert, and tears through a white tower, roars and roars and grows horns.
The story ends but not a happily ever after yet for the hero has to save a kingdom first before the credits could roll and the director could roar “cut! It’s a wrap!”
The story hasn't ended but the world resumes spinning in its axis. Life resumes, awkwardly normal at first, but nevertheless, the participants of the story are grateful.
Now, we see the sewing princess who lives inside her beautiful inner universe.
In a simple white blouse and knee-length flowery skirt, Orihime walks home wearing her old, yellow doll shoes, her steps bouncy, and her hair bright under the refracting sunlight. It is such a beautiful spring day, life at its best, a sign of new and better things to come.
Orihime hopes so. She is, after all, an optimistic girl. No, no, don’t get her wrong. She gets lonely too, but she thinks, she has friends who love her and a brother Somewhere Over There who watches over her, so no, no, I am grateful that I am still alive and that I am not alone.
And so she walks, she glides, she skips, she bounces.
She walks past a wall, she glances at it, and her pace slows down as she smiles at the colorful wall. The wall, as usual, is bright with many graffiti of different fonts and caricatures. A bright colorful hiragana, some red, massive katakana, some curvy, fancy English words, cute scribbles of a rabbit and a monkey, several haikus, an English catchphrase in a stencil and -
Smiling, she turns her face away, humming.
1, 2, 3…
All of a sudden, she freezes as though she is hit by a thunderbolt. Orihime whips her head around, her hair making a halo around her and stares at the wall, utterly flabbergasted.
Let’s rewind.
A bright colorful hiragana, some red, massive katakana, some curvy, fancy English words, cute scribbles of a rabbit and a monkey, several haikus, an English catchphrase in a stencil and -
Orihime gawks and feels the earth dance under her feet. The newest artwork is still glistening with wet paint. And there is someone, no, two figures, standing in front of it, holding soaked paintbrushes. Two figures which Orihime can recognize anywhere.
Gracefully clumsy, Orihime hurries forward. “R-R-Rukia-chaaan!?”
The slender shinigami jumps and glances over her thin shoulder. Her wide violet eyes widen. “Oh crap! Quick, Renji! She’s here! Pack up!”
Energetically, Orihime waves her arms around in panic and humiliation. “Rukia-chan, Renji-kun, what… W-What is this?!” Orihime squeaks in mortification, her cheeks as red as apples.
Rukia grins, proud of her skills. She is a superb Artist, yes she is. “Nice, isn’t it?”
Orihime blinks and stares at the wall, mouth slack. “… It’s beautiful… NO! Rukia-chan, you can’t write something like this in public!?”
“But it’s true, isn’t it?” challenges Rukia, while Renji wisely steps back, preparing to flee. His animal senses are tingling: Warning! Warning!
Orihime goes redder that it amazes both Rukia and Renji. “B-B-But… Uwah~ Rukia-chan, this is… Me and… no! He… We… Aliens and bees and… No!” Orihime moans, clutching her face. “This is… Oh no, this is embarrassing and… and Rukia-chaaaan, oh, what have you done?”
“But it’s the truth.” Rukia points out, gesturing at her and Renji’s smooth, colorful handiwork.
KUROSAKI ICHIGO X INOUE ORIHIME
If possible, Orihime colors even redder that Rukia thinks her friend will explode in pretty smithereens.
“It is, right?” prods Rukia. “You love him, right?”
“Oh Rukia-chan, my feelings… Oh, I do, I love him very much! But-”
“Then it’s okay! He loves you too and you’ll live happily-”
“Noooo~” moans Orihime, clutching her hair even tighter. “Kurosaki-kun does not like me the way I like him and he will never like me like the way I like him because… Because… Kurosaki-kun will never like someone like me- but you’re right! I love him - I am in love with him but that’s not the point!” Shakily, Orihime brandishes a finger at the glistening orange and blue characters. “What if he sees that? What will he think? He will be embarrassed, angry, shocked and he’d be scowling and the aliens will come and get him because he looks so funny when he scowls and what will happen to Karakura without its Super Duper Hero? We are doomed! So, please do something about that before he sees it because-”
“What’s this?”
Oh, yes, timing is everything.
Orihime gasps loudly, turns around clumsily, stumbles, catches herself and her eyes, those big and round doe eyes, grow bigger, stares up, up, up to the tall, tall, tall frowning, laidback and bemused visage of her long-time-former-crush-now-the-love-of-her-life…
Noooooooooo~ The sewing princess wails mentally in despair as her inner self drops to its knees and cries a waterfall of tears.
“K-K-K-Kurosaki-kun!”
comments are ♥ ;D
ichigo♥orihime.
FOLD
This is weird. Ochi-sensei is late!
Orihime pouts and looks down to her notes. Absent-mindedly, she begins to doodle randomly, giggling as she writes ICHIGO X ORIHIME FOREVER.
This makes her giggle a lot; Tatsuki glances at her but shrugs and looks away, bored. Hmm… She looks outside; she likes to keep her window open. Outside, it’s such a beautiful but windy day. Her caramel eyes drift upwards to the blue sky and she thinks, to be a bird and fly~
Orihime’s smile widens as an idea crosses her mind. She looks down to her notebook and using her amazing drawing skills, draws a small caricature of Ichigo and herself. She laughs to herself, which attracts a couple of stares from Tatsuki, Ichigo and some. But being her blissfully oblivious self, Orihime keeps doodling and writing,
ICHIGO LOVES ORIHIME
ICHIGO AND ORIHIME
Grinning and still oblivious from the stares, she tears off the pages, folds it, making a paper plane. She cannot fly to sky and take her wish to the heavens, but airplanes can fly, can’t they?
Well, she’ll have to send it to the sky her way.
Giddy like a child, she throws it outside and the breeze, oh the breeze, playfully changes its direction and it waves the paper plane back to her. Orihime raises her hands to catch it but it flies past her fingers, drifts steadily as if it has a mind of its own and lands… OH NO!
Ichigo blinks and looks down at his desk. A paper plane has landed. Despite himself, he smirks. He picks it up, examines it and notices that there are words written on the paper. Curious, he moves to unfold it -
“STOP!” screams Orihime.
Huh?
Ichigo and the rest of the class look at the red-faced auburn-haired girl.
Orihime is shaking, red-faced, a hand in the air like a traffic enforcer.
“Inoue?” says Ichigo, confused.
“D-Don’t open it, please!!!”
“But…” Ichigo looks at the paper plane, brows furrowed, terribly, oh so terribly curious. The letterings are beckoning him to read them. And he vaguely makes out a few characters.
I…chi-
“NOOOOO~” Orihime’s voice makes Ichigo look at her again. “I beg you or else… or else…” It’s not her personality to threaten, Ichigo thinks. For Orihime’s part, she feels like the universe is making fun of her. The wind is blowing that way- why does it suddenly change its mind?!
The… universe hates me!
“Or else… Or else… t-the Martians will come to eat us alive and you don’t want to be trapped inside their bellies, right, so please don’t… Um, um… UWAH~” To Ichigo’s shock, the gentle girl pounces on him, surprising Tatsuki (and later, she is impressed at her boldness) and yanks the paper plane from his hand. Before he could react, Orihime is running outside, past Ochi-sensei.
“OI, INOUE!”
“I HAVE TO PEE!”
“You’re a girl! You can hold it for an hour!”
“BUT IT HURTS IT HURTS~” yells Orihime over her shoulder, jogging but not moving on her spot.
“Alright~ have fun! You can go back after an hour or more! Oi, Asano, where are you going?”
“I HAVE TO PEE!”
“SIT!”
“But- THAT’S UNFAIR~ FAVORITISM, I SAY!”
Dark amber eyes half-lidded, Ichigo casually leans forward in his seat, his chin on his palm, his eyes averted to the side where Orihime sits.
Paper planes, huh?
SIDEWALK
AU
i.
One Saturday Spring morning, at eight o clock in the morning, in front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on a busy cobblestone sidewalk.
He is going to east.
She is going to west.
He does not look back.
She does not look back.
He goes to east.
She goes to west.
ii.
He does not look special, but he stands out in the crowd. His hair is bright, brighter in the sunshine. He wears a scowl like a second skin and he seems to be always in deep thought. With his brows furrowed like that, he looks like someone who thinks deeply.
She does not look special, but she stands out in the crowd. Her hair is red, not blood red, but orange red that attracts stares all the time. Her eyes are wide, too big in her face, but it suits her. Those eyes make her look younger. She smiles a lot, this girl.
One Saturday morning, at eight fifteen in the morning, in front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on a busy cobblestone sidewalk.
He is going to east.
She is going to west.
He does not look back.
She does not look back.
He goes to east.
She goes to west.
iii.
One Saturday summer morning, in front of an ice cream shop, at eight twenty two, he is going to east. She is going to west.
A phone rings. He stops, “Hello?”
An envelope falls and its contents spill. She stops, “Oh my.”
In four seconds, they are standing on the same spot, separated by a cell phone and an envelope.
The conversation concludes.
The contents are gathered.
At eight twenty seven, in front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on a busy cobblestone sidewalk.
He does not look back.
She does not look back.
He goes to east.
She goes to west.
iv.
He is going to east.
She is going to west.
That day, above them, the clouds are gathering, like bunches of many, many, many cotton candies inside a transparent plastic bag, a plastic bag that is as big as the sky.
At nine fifteen, the many, many, many cotton candies weep and their tears drench the land. Children run, adults run, he walks, she walks.
In front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on that busy, very wet cobblestone sidewalk.
He is under his coat which he drapes over his head.
She is under her too-bright yellow umbrella.
He does not look back.
She does not look back.
He goes to east.
She goes to west.
v.
One Saturday Autumn morning, in front of an ice cream shop, they approach each other on a busy cobblestone street.
“Ichigo.”
He lifts his eyes.
“Orihime!”
She looks up from a novel she reads.
He smirks.
She grins.
They walk past by each other.
“Chad.”
“Tatsuki-chan!”
He exchange high fives with the person behind her; she hugs the person behind him.
He does not look back.
She does not look back.
He goes to east.
She goes to west.
vi.
It is winter. Snowstorms are rare, but the snow falls steadily. The ice cream shop is open but empty. The cobblestone street is empty as well except for two individuals who live in two different galaxies.
He is going to east, she is going to west.
Wise men say
He looks tired and grumpy; he wears a coat and a maroon scarf, his gloves are black.
Only fools rush in
She is singing, but her words are stumbling out of her mouth; it is cold and she is shivering. She forgets her coat somewhere, but she has her scarf, her mittens and her green boots.
But I can’t help…
Falling in love with
He frowns curiously and looks up; she twirls once and looks up.
You
Their eyes meet.
vii.
One Saturday Spring morning, at eight o clock in the morning, in front of an ice cream shop, they walk past by each other on a busy cobblestone sidewalk.
He is going to east.
She is going to west.
He looks back.
She looks back.
PAINTBRUSH
Once upon a time, there’s a sewing princess in white who gets lost in a dessert, wanders inside a white tower, gets stuck there for an hour, stares up to her window and waits for…
“Aliens!”
But no, according to chapter what-is-it, there comes a hero in black who rides an invisible white horse, races across the dessert, and tears through a white tower, roars and roars and grows horns.
The story ends but not a happily ever after yet for the hero has to save a kingdom first before the credits could roll and the director could roar “cut! It’s a wrap!”
The story hasn't ended but the world resumes spinning in its axis. Life resumes, awkwardly normal at first, but nevertheless, the participants of the story are grateful.
Now, we see the sewing princess who lives inside her beautiful inner universe.
In a simple white blouse and knee-length flowery skirt, Orihime walks home wearing her old, yellow doll shoes, her steps bouncy, and her hair bright under the refracting sunlight. It is such a beautiful spring day, life at its best, a sign of new and better things to come.
Orihime hopes so. She is, after all, an optimistic girl. No, no, don’t get her wrong. She gets lonely too, but she thinks, she has friends who love her and a brother Somewhere Over There who watches over her, so no, no, I am grateful that I am still alive and that I am not alone.
And so she walks, she glides, she skips, she bounces.
She walks past a wall, she glances at it, and her pace slows down as she smiles at the colorful wall. The wall, as usual, is bright with many graffiti of different fonts and caricatures. A bright colorful hiragana, some red, massive katakana, some curvy, fancy English words, cute scribbles of a rabbit and a monkey, several haikus, an English catchphrase in a stencil and -
Smiling, she turns her face away, humming.
1, 2, 3…
All of a sudden, she freezes as though she is hit by a thunderbolt. Orihime whips her head around, her hair making a halo around her and stares at the wall, utterly flabbergasted.
Let’s rewind.
A bright colorful hiragana, some red, massive katakana, some curvy, fancy English words, cute scribbles of a rabbit and a monkey, several haikus, an English catchphrase in a stencil and -
Orihime gawks and feels the earth dance under her feet. The newest artwork is still glistening with wet paint. And there is someone, no, two figures, standing in front of it, holding soaked paintbrushes. Two figures which Orihime can recognize anywhere.
Gracefully clumsy, Orihime hurries forward. “R-R-Rukia-chaaan!?”
The slender shinigami jumps and glances over her thin shoulder. Her wide violet eyes widen. “Oh crap! Quick, Renji! She’s here! Pack up!”
Energetically, Orihime waves her arms around in panic and humiliation. “Rukia-chan, Renji-kun, what… W-What is this?!” Orihime squeaks in mortification, her cheeks as red as apples.
Rukia grins, proud of her skills. She is a superb Artist, yes she is. “Nice, isn’t it?”
Orihime blinks and stares at the wall, mouth slack. “… It’s beautiful… NO! Rukia-chan, you can’t write something like this in public!?”
“But it’s true, isn’t it?” challenges Rukia, while Renji wisely steps back, preparing to flee. His animal senses are tingling: Warning! Warning!
Orihime goes redder that it amazes both Rukia and Renji. “B-B-But… Uwah~ Rukia-chan, this is… Me and… no! He… We… Aliens and bees and… No!” Orihime moans, clutching her face. “This is… Oh no, this is embarrassing and… and Rukia-chaaaan, oh, what have you done?”
“But it’s the truth.” Rukia points out, gesturing at her and Renji’s smooth, colorful handiwork.
KUROSAKI ICHIGO X INOUE ORIHIME
If possible, Orihime colors even redder that Rukia thinks her friend will explode in pretty smithereens.
“It is, right?” prods Rukia. “You love him, right?”
“Oh Rukia-chan, my feelings… Oh, I do, I love him very much! But-”
“Then it’s okay! He loves you too and you’ll live happily-”
“Noooo~” moans Orihime, clutching her hair even tighter. “Kurosaki-kun does not like me the way I like him and he will never like me like the way I like him because… Because… Kurosaki-kun will never like someone like me- but you’re right! I love him - I am in love with him but that’s not the point!” Shakily, Orihime brandishes a finger at the glistening orange and blue characters. “What if he sees that? What will he think? He will be embarrassed, angry, shocked and he’d be scowling and the aliens will come and get him because he looks so funny when he scowls and what will happen to Karakura without its Super Duper Hero? We are doomed! So, please do something about that before he sees it because-”
“What’s this?”
Oh, yes, timing is everything.
Orihime gasps loudly, turns around clumsily, stumbles, catches herself and her eyes, those big and round doe eyes, grow bigger, stares up, up, up to the tall, tall, tall frowning, laidback and bemused visage of her long-time-former-crush-now-the-love-of-her-life…
Noooooooooo~ The sewing princess wails mentally in despair as her inner self drops to its knees and cries a waterfall of tears.
“K-K-K-Kurosaki-kun!”
comments are ♥ ;D