Fic: Blossoming
Fic: Blossoming.
Rating: G
Fandom: Bleach - Ichigo/Orihime
A/N: A part of this untitled IchiHime arc that I seem to have gotten caught up in.
Prompt: 1 - Cold Feet.
*
“Inoue is really blossoming.” Keigo says one sunny morning, garnering only a grin from Mizuiro and a hesitant glower from Ichigo. “Truly blossoming. Like a rose or a…a blossom!”
Keigo is quick to tune out following his little spiel, content to gaze lovingly (leer) in the general direction of a group of girls strolling past. Chad doesn’t say anything, however he does cast a steady eye over the remainder of their own group.
Mizuiro, the tiny thing that he is, squeezes himself out from his seat between a steadfast Chad and a salivating Keigo, and quickly repositions himself next to Ichigo.
“He’s right, you know.”
“About what?” Ichigo snorts out, not allowing his own gaze to stray from the juice box in his hands.
“About Inoue-san. She really...” Mizuiro stops, looks over at the girl in question, “She’s growing up, maturing.”
“Hadn’t noticed.”
“She likes you, y’know.”
Ichigo’s head snaps up at that, eyes darting wildly, cheeks flushed, tongue begging his brain for a response that doesn’t make him seem like a complete and utter moron.
It’s too late though, because Mizuiro’s moved on, and is now discussing something with Chad, although he does spare Ichigo one last smirk that only says that Mizuiro knows Ichigo’s a moron, but he loves him anyway.
*
Ichigo sees Orihime after school.
Any other day this would be no big deal, he’d go over and she’d smile that blinding smile at him and then he’d walk her home, you know, so she didn’t get attacked or hit by a car or anything.
But he can’t now, not when everything’s so confusing, and his heart aches in his chest, pounds, throbs every time he so much as stands next to her. Nowadays he has to make a quick escape, has to flee the grounds before she can cast big eyes on him.
“Ichigo!” Too late.
She races over, hair and bag and skirt swinging and swaying with every bouncing step. “Ichigo!”
“Hi, Inoue.”
“Orihime.” She says, as she fixes that daisy clip in her hair.
“Orihime.” He repeats, for some peculiar reason or another, incapable of taking his eyes off those long fingers.
“Tatsuki has soccer practice this afternoon.”
“Oh…don’t you normally go watch?”
“Yes, I have a lot of homework this evening though. Highschool, huh?” She says, and she’s making such a huge effort to not say anything strange that it sort of hurts him, hurts him that when she’s normal it’s even more awkward than when she isn’t.
“Maybe you could walk me home?” She asks, all hesitant gaze and quivering voice, and Ichigo doesn’t want it to be awkward. Doesn’t ever, ever, ever want to lose this girl, or anyone in this surrogate little family that he’s set up at this school and this town, and he just wants…well, he doesn’t know what he wants.
“…Sure.” He says, when he realises he hasn’t said anything in a while, causing her to attempt a belated retraction of her statement…her affections.
They’re walking in a matter of seconds, and the tension puts stress on his nerve-endings, sends chronic tingles through whichever side is closest to this ‘blossoming’ girl.
“I…” She starts, “I don’t want you to ever hate me, Ichigo.”
He stares at her, and yea ok, maybe she’s just as scared as he is, maybe she has all the same fears and worries and desperate needs that he has.
“Ditto.” He says, because really, he isn’t that good with words.
Orihime smiles at him, brushes his arm with hers, which only succeeds in sending that arm, that half of his body on fire. She’s really, really, really beautiful here today, and he really, really, really wants to…just…be with her.
And maybe that’s what this is all about…maybe this is what he needs…maybe she is just what he needs, and he knows this, he’s known this for a while now.
“Listen, Inou-Orihime-“
“This is my stop.” She says, and again he’s too late.
She gives him a quick wave, slips off her tiny shoes, and fiddles with the keys. Just as she’s about to go inside, she turns around, “Wait, sorry, were you saying something? I get caught up sometimes.” She giggles a little, nervously, anxiously.
“Uh.” Yes, he was saying something, yes, he had a lot to say, so much that it’s causing grief and strain and so much angst on his heart. “No, nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow, Inoue.”
“Orihime!” She calls, as she locks the door behind her.
Damn.
Rating: G
Fandom: Bleach - Ichigo/Orihime
A/N: A part of this untitled IchiHime arc that I seem to have gotten caught up in.
Prompt: 1 - Cold Feet.
*
“Inoue is really blossoming.” Keigo says one sunny morning, garnering only a grin from Mizuiro and a hesitant glower from Ichigo. “Truly blossoming. Like a rose or a…a blossom!”
Keigo is quick to tune out following his little spiel, content to gaze lovingly (leer) in the general direction of a group of girls strolling past. Chad doesn’t say anything, however he does cast a steady eye over the remainder of their own group.
Mizuiro, the tiny thing that he is, squeezes himself out from his seat between a steadfast Chad and a salivating Keigo, and quickly repositions himself next to Ichigo.
“He’s right, you know.”
“About what?” Ichigo snorts out, not allowing his own gaze to stray from the juice box in his hands.
“About Inoue-san. She really...” Mizuiro stops, looks over at the girl in question, “She’s growing up, maturing.”
“Hadn’t noticed.”
“She likes you, y’know.”
Ichigo’s head snaps up at that, eyes darting wildly, cheeks flushed, tongue begging his brain for a response that doesn’t make him seem like a complete and utter moron.
It’s too late though, because Mizuiro’s moved on, and is now discussing something with Chad, although he does spare Ichigo one last smirk that only says that Mizuiro knows Ichigo’s a moron, but he loves him anyway.
*
Ichigo sees Orihime after school.
Any other day this would be no big deal, he’d go over and she’d smile that blinding smile at him and then he’d walk her home, you know, so she didn’t get attacked or hit by a car or anything.
But he can’t now, not when everything’s so confusing, and his heart aches in his chest, pounds, throbs every time he so much as stands next to her. Nowadays he has to make a quick escape, has to flee the grounds before she can cast big eyes on him.
“Ichigo!” Too late.
She races over, hair and bag and skirt swinging and swaying with every bouncing step. “Ichigo!”
“Hi, Inoue.”
“Orihime.” She says, as she fixes that daisy clip in her hair.
“Orihime.” He repeats, for some peculiar reason or another, incapable of taking his eyes off those long fingers.
“Tatsuki has soccer practice this afternoon.”
“Oh…don’t you normally go watch?”
“Yes, I have a lot of homework this evening though. Highschool, huh?” She says, and she’s making such a huge effort to not say anything strange that it sort of hurts him, hurts him that when she’s normal it’s even more awkward than when she isn’t.
“Maybe you could walk me home?” She asks, all hesitant gaze and quivering voice, and Ichigo doesn’t want it to be awkward. Doesn’t ever, ever, ever want to lose this girl, or anyone in this surrogate little family that he’s set up at this school and this town, and he just wants…well, he doesn’t know what he wants.
“…Sure.” He says, when he realises he hasn’t said anything in a while, causing her to attempt a belated retraction of her statement…her affections.
They’re walking in a matter of seconds, and the tension puts stress on his nerve-endings, sends chronic tingles through whichever side is closest to this ‘blossoming’ girl.
“I…” She starts, “I don’t want you to ever hate me, Ichigo.”
He stares at her, and yea ok, maybe she’s just as scared as he is, maybe she has all the same fears and worries and desperate needs that he has.
“Ditto.” He says, because really, he isn’t that good with words.
Orihime smiles at him, brushes his arm with hers, which only succeeds in sending that arm, that half of his body on fire. She’s really, really, really beautiful here today, and he really, really, really wants to…just…be with her.
And maybe that’s what this is all about…maybe this is what he needs…maybe she is just what he needs, and he knows this, he’s known this for a while now.
“Listen, Inou-Orihime-“
“This is my stop.” She says, and again he’s too late.
She gives him a quick wave, slips off her tiny shoes, and fiddles with the keys. Just as she’s about to go inside, she turns around, “Wait, sorry, were you saying something? I get caught up sometimes.” She giggles a little, nervously, anxiously.
“Uh.” Yes, he was saying something, yes, he had a lot to say, so much that it’s causing grief and strain and so much angst on his heart. “No, nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow, Inoue.”
“Orihime!” She calls, as she locks the door behind her.
Damn.