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There was a strange tension hanging over Karakura High. Subtle enough that most students didn’t notice, but heavy enough that those closest to the truth felt it like a weight in their chests. Conversations hushed when certain people passed by. Glances were exchanged, unsure, searching, worried.
It had only been a week since the chaos with Xcution had finally ended. A week since memories had been tampered with, loyalties twisted, and trust ripped apart. And though life at school was returning to its usual rhythm-pop quizzes, club practices, gossip in the hallways-Orihime felt anything but normal.
She was in her senior year, yet she felt like she was carrying the exhaustion of a lifetime. Urahara Kisuke had explained everything to her once she’d regained consciousness: Ginjo’s betrayal. Tsukishima’s manipulation. The true motives behind Xcution. And worst of all… the things she had said, had believed, because that’s what those false memories told her.
The knowledge left her hollow.
She had let someone use her. She had become a weapon against the one person she cared about most: Kurosaki Ichigo.
So she did the only thing she could think of.
She ran.
She started avoiding Ichigo-coming to school late to avoid greeting him in the morning, dashing out as soon as the bell rang, having lunch with her girlfriends instead.
She told herself she just needed time-time to gather her thoughts, time to figure out what she could possibly say to him after everything she’d done.
Of course, Ichigo noticed.
Ichigo always noticed.
And he wasn’t the only one. Chad’s worried frowns, Uryu’s sharp glances, even Keigo’s confused whining, everyone could tell something wasn’t right. But none of them said a word, sensing that this was something only Ichigo and Orihime could resolve.
Orihime wished they were wrong. She wished she could avoid this forever.
But deep down, she knew the truth.
You can only run for so long before Kurosaki Ichigo catches up to you.
On the fifth day of her executing her master plan, Orihime jumped from her seat as soon as the bell rang and got ready to go home to avoid running into Ichigo.
One of the rare times she thanked the stars that they weren’t in the same class in their senior year.
Avoiding him would have been impossible then.
But it seemed like her luck had run out because as soon as she exited the class, being the first one to, there he was. Leaning against the wall casually, in typical Ichigo fashion.
The shirt of his school uniform was untucked, his blazer draped lazily over his shoulders, and his hands resting in his pants’ pockets. His orange hair was messy and he was sporting the signature Ichigo scowl as his eyes zero-ed in on her. He looked handsome as always.
If Orihime didn’t know any better she’d say him being there was a coincidence but if there’s one person she did know like the back of her hand. It was Kurosaki Ichigo-her longtime crush, one of her closest friends, and her first love.
She sighed, knowing there was no use trying to escape now, keeping her eyes downcast, and looking everywhere but at him.
She didn’t know how to face him. Not yet.
She needed more time to gather her thoughts and figure out what exactly she would say to him.
But Ichigo had had enough of this cat and mouse game.
“You’re coming with me, Inoue. I think we need to talk.” He didn’t let her get a word in, as he grabbed her wrist and all but dragged her behind him and into an empty classroom down the hall, locking it behind him so she wouldn’t get any ideas.
Ichigo turned to her and his eyes scanned his close friend.
She was standing a few feet away from him, slighting leaning against one of the several desks in the classroom. Her sunset hair spilled around her shoulders like a curtain, framing her delicate face. One of her hands gripped the corner of the desk, her knuckles almost turning white. She was looking at the tiles on the floor as if they held the answers to all the questions in the world. Her teeth painfully dug into her bottom lip, as she let out an anxious breath.
She looked so vulnerable at the moment that Ichigo lost his train of thought. He was at a loss for words. He wanted to pull her in his arms and comfort her. Even though he specifically sought her out to confront her for avoiding him.
He took a deep breath and steeled himself, telling himself that this was not the time to go soft.
He needed to get answers from her.
With that, he closed the distance between them and walked until his shoes entered the periphery of her vision, stopping just a few inches away from her.
Orihime stiffened when she realized that her personal space had been invaded.
“Inoue.” Ichigo grabbed her by the forearms and forced her to stand up straight so that he was able to see her more clearly.
He was easily a head taller than her. The top of her head barely coming up to his chin.
“Look at me,” he said, as she still refused to meet his gaze. That irritated him. He wanted to see her beautiful, gray eyes but she wasn’t complying.
So, he gently grabbed her chin with his thumb and forefinger and forced her to look at him.
Orihime’s breath hitched as her stormy gray orbs met with his honey brown ones.
His gaze held concern and a little bit of frustration, maybe agitation?
She bit down on her bottom lip harder to stop the tears that were threatening to spill over.
She wouldn’t cry again. She can’t cry again.
“Why are you avoiding me? I told you, you can speak to me if there’s anything on your mind. Running away is not the answer,” he spoke to her sternly.
“Kurosaki-kun, I-” she began, but couldn’t get any words out of her throat.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, she felt two salty teardrops streak down her cheeks and onto Ichigo’s hand that still held her chin in place.
Crap. Here the waterworks go again.
Seeing the sight before him, Ichigo’s gaze softened and so did his grip on Orihime’s chin, slowly letting go.
Orihime inwardly frowned at the loss of contact but didn’t get time to lament at the loss, as she was suddenly pulled forward, warm arms tentatively wrapping around her back, her cheek coming into contact with a hard surface–Ichigo’s chest.
She stiffened for a moment, her breath catching in her throat.
This was the first time in her years of knowing Ichigo that he had embraced her, and held her so intimately.
There was the time in Hueco Mundo when he threw her over his shoulder and shunpo-ed down the tower but she wouldn’t exactly describe that moment as intimate, instead it was something the situation demanded. Not something Ichigo did out of his own volition.
Unlike him hugging her right now.
Orihime decided she would analyze his actions later as she buried her face deeper into his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist.
It’s not every day she gets to hug Ichigo!
Her heart was beating against her chest erratically and she suddenly frowned.
This wasn’t right.
She was the one at fault. She was supposed to be comforting him. Apologizing to him!
Yet, here he was. Comforting her.
After she went against him.
Protected his enemy.
Let him get hurt.
And ignored him.
A violent sob wracked through Orihime’s body and she stopped holding back, clutching Ichigo’s school blazer for dear life as her defenses finally came apart.
Ichigo’s arms around her tightened and he let the trembling girl calm down before he resumed his questioning. Her soft body molded against his hard contours perfectly, and his heart skipped a beat as her body heat seeped into his own.
Honestly, Ichigo himself didn’t know what he was thinking when he had pulled Orihime into his arms. It was just something he knew he needed to do when he saw her standing there looking so small and vulnerable. Before he knew it, his body was moving on its own, seeking her out to comfort her and hold her close to himself.
Ichigo always knew Orihime meant a lot to him.
Even amongst his friends, Orihime was special. She was different.
She automatically drew out his protective instincts. More than anyone else.
It confused him. But he readily took on his role as her protector because there was no one more worthy, more deserving of his protection.
It’s also why he didn’t bat an eyelid when he found out she’d been abducted and taken to Hueco Mundo.
He would get her back. No matter what!
And he did.
The nature of their relationship had changed since then, especially with Ichigo having lost his Shinigami powers.
They began spending more time together. Whether it was in school, or outside of it–walking her back home after her shifts at ABCookies, her bringing his family scrap bread which he cheekily liked to call “leftovers” just to tease her, reading mangas together, her calling him in the middle of the night after she had a nightmare.
It was something he had made her-no-forced her, to do once he realized how much the trauma from her experiences in Las Noches was impacting her life. She was barely getting any sleep, and as a result lost quite a bit of weight, along with her always cheerful and vibrant smile.
So, Ichigo had confronted her, much like he was doing right now, about what was going on with her and after much insistence managed to get out of her that she had been having nightmares since their return from Hueco Mundo.
Realization dawned on Ichigo and he berated himself for being too absorbed in his own sorrows, and loss, to notice what she might have been going through. So, he told her to call him whenever she had a nightmare.
In true Orihime fashion, she had sputtered and declined saying she couldn’t disturb his rest and that she would be fine eventually, but he was having none of it. He didn’t stop pestering her till she agreed, promising that she would call him the next time she had a nightmare.
And she kept her word.
Her first call came the same night. She was breathing heavily and trying so hard to not cry. He asked her what she dreamt of. She shakily described her nightmare to him.
“White-Everything’s so white….” Her voice shook as she recounted.
And from then on, their almost-daily calls would continue. She told him about everything. The desolate Las Noches, Ulquiorra’s mental torment, the solitude, the physical torture she had endured, Aizen..
Every time she spoke about it, Ichigo could not help but blame himself for taking so long to rescue her.
For not being by her side.
For allowing her to get abducted in the first place.
She knew exactly what he was thinking and she would offer him countless reassurances, saying she never blamed him. She went with Ulquiorra of her own volition. To protect her friends.
And in between all the whispered apologies and comforting words, Ichigo had also found solace with her as he was coping with the gaping void in his heart that came with losing his powers. Feeling more helpless than he had ever been.
Being able to comfort and help Orihime had given him a sense of purpose, made him believe that he wasn’t so useless anymore.
And then by a stroke of luck, or rather, thanks to Ginjo’s machinations, he had gotten his powers back after seventeen long, agonizing months.
He was a substitute shinigami again. He had resumed contact with Soul Society. He could finally protect the ones he cared about again. He could finally protect her again.
It was not easy. Tsukishima and Ginjo were formidable enemies and at one point he had felt like giving up. When his friends turned against him. When Karin and Yuzu turned against him. And most of all, when Orihime turned against him.
But thankfully, there was light at the end of the tunnel and he had won. He had gotten his powers back!
He couldn’t have asked for anything more. Things were finally looking great again.
So, why was Orihime avoiding him like the plague?
Contrary to popular belief, Ichigo wasn’t completely hopeless when it came to social cues, and suddenly being ignored by one of his closest friends, someone he spoke to almost every day, someone who knew him better than anyone else, it was hard to not realize that she was making a conscious effort to avoid him.
Ichigo had a feeling that it had something to do with her being cut by Tsukishima’s fullbring–Book of the End, and having her memories altered, but he never blamed her for her actions. He never blamed any of his friends or family.
So, he needed her to tell him by herself.
“Inoue, tell me what’s wrong. Why are you avoiding me?” Ichigo whispered into her hair.
Orihime’s choked back a sob when she heard that and reluctantly pulled herself a few inches back, separating their torsos. Her fingers still clutched the sides of his blazer and she turned her head up to look him in the eyes.
“Kurosaki-kun, I broke my promise-” A pained expression took over her face.
“What are you talking about, Inoue? What promise?” Ichigo asked, keeping her steady and in place in front of him.
“I promised myself that I wouldn’t be so weak anymore. Even if I couldn’t protect you. I wouldn’t get in your way. I wouldn’t become a hindrance. I wouldn’t let anyone use me to hurt you.”
Ichigo stopped breathing at the anguish in her voice.
This stupid girl.
However, Orihime didn’t let him say anything.
She continued, “I failed. I got in your way again. I became a tool for someone else to hurt you again. I’m so sorry, Kurosaki-kun.”
A fresh wave of tears spilled over from Orihime’s eyes and Ichigo grit down his teeth, torn between wanting to comfort her or get mad at her.
Having said what she needed to say, Orihime let her head hang low, slowly releasing her hold on Ichigo’s blazer. She didn’t move back though, waiting for Ichigo to respond to her confession.
“Inoue, look at me.” She heard a firm voice but she kept her gaze trained on her feet, refusing to comply. “Inoue-” he warned again, and when she refused to listen, he cupped her face in both his palms, drawing her face closer to his, and forced her to meet his gaze.
Orihime’s eyes widened and her heartbeat echoed in her eardrums as she realized just how close their faces were, noses almost touching.
She wondered if he could her heart threatening to jump out of her chest.
Ichigo’s eyes softened when he took in her deer-caught-in-headlights expression–wide eyes, flushed cheeks, and lips parted. His right thumb had a mind of its own as it gently stroked her cheek, gliding over the smooth skin.
“Inoue… you didn’t fail anything.” His voice was low, steady-too steady, considering how close he was to losing it. “You didn’t break any promise. Not to me. Not to yourself. What happened with Tsukishima… none of that was your fault.”
Orihime’s breath hitched, but she didn’t dare speak. Ichigo continued, leaning in just a little more, as if forcing the truth into her heart with proximity alone.
“You think being controlled makes you weak?” he asked softly but with that dangerous edge only Kurosaki Ichigo possessed. “You think stepping in front of danger for the sake of your friends makes you a hindrance?”
His fingers tightened ever so slightly on her cheeks. “You weren’t used because you’re weak, Inoue. You were targeted because you’re strong. Because you matter. Because Aizen knew exactly how important you are. Because Tsukishima knew exactly how important you are.”
Orihime didn’t know what expression she had on her face right now. But she was pretty sure it gave all her feelings away.
“To all of us,” he added. Then, after the smallest pause, “To me.”
Orihime’s breath stopped altogether.
Ichigo swallowed, jaw tensing as he searched her eyes, willing her to understand.
“I was never angry at you. Not once. I was scared.” The confession left him in a whisper. “Scared because I couldn’t reach you. Because it felt like you were… slipping away from me. And now you’re avoiding me like I did something wrong, and-dammit, Inoue, I can’t stand that.”
His thumb brushed away a tear before it could fall.
“You said you wanted to protect me?” A faint, exasperated scoff escaped him. “Then stop trying to do it alone.”
Orihime blinked at him, stunned. Ichigo leaned even closer, their foreheads almost touching now.
“If you’re hurting, you tell me. If someone messes with your head, you come to me. If you feel weak, then lean on me. I’ll be strong enough for both of us.” He exhaled shakily, the proximity finally catching up to him.
“But don’t you ever think you’re a burden. Don’t you ever think you’re someone I need to be protected from.”
His voice dropped, soft and impossibly sincere.
“You’re someone I want to protect. Someone I care about. Someone I…”
He stopped himself just before crossing a line even he wasn’t ready for, but the unspoken word hung heavily in the air between them.
Orihime’s lips parted in a silent gasp.
Ichigo closed his eyes for a brief moment, gathering every last bit of courage, then opened them again, meeting her gaze with raw, unguarded honesty.
“So don’t run away from me, Inoue. Not ever again.”
Orihime’s breath trembled as his words sank into her, soft at first, like ripples from a stone dropped in water, then crashing into her all at once.
Her bottom lip quivered.
Then the tears came.
Not the frantic, panicked kind from before. Not the choking sobs she tried so hard to bury in his chest. These were slow, warm tears of relief, slipping down her cheeks with the gentleness of a tide finally settling.
Ichigo panicked immediately.
“W–Why are you crying again?” he blurted, thumbs moving frantically to wipe them even though new ones kept spilling. “I literally said all that so you’d stop crying!”
Orihime let out a tiny, broken laugh, half sob, half sunshine, before her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Her shoulders shook, not from despair this time, but something lighter. Something that made her eyes glow despite the tears.
“I’m sorry,” she hiccuped, shaking her head. “I-I just-” She sniffled and wiped her cheeks clumsily. “I feel… happy.”
Ichigo froze.
Happy?
Because of something he said?
Orihime’s watery smile widened, soft and glowing and impossibly warm. And when her gray eyes met his again, shining with trust instead of guilt, he swore his heart forgot how to beat properly.
“I didn’t know if… if you’d be upset. I thought I disappointed you. I thought I ruined everything.” Her fingers curled into the fabric of her uniform skirt nervously. “But hearing you say all that, I feel like I can breathe again.”
Ichigo’s ears turned red. Then his neck. Then all the way to the tips of his hair.
“I-I mean-yeah,” he stammered, very eloquently. “Breathing is… good.”
Orihime giggled.
He immediately scowled, not because he was annoyed, but because she looked so damn cute smiling at him like that, and he had absolutely no idea what to do with his hands or his face or his entire existence.
“Stop laughing,” he muttered, looking anywhere but her face. “It’s not that funny.”
“It is a little funny,” Orihime said gently, wiping the last lingering tear from her cheek.
“Well—it is,” he agreed unwillingly.
Orihime shook her head, absolutely beaming now.
Ichigo scratched the back of his neck, feeling more awkward than he had ever felt in his life. He could fight hollows. He could storm Hueco Mundo. He could face down Aizen himself.
But one smiling Orihime?
Yeah. That was the real boss battle.
“I just…” he started, cheeks still blazing, “I just want you to be okay. That’s all.”
Orihime’s smile softened.
“I am,” she whispered. “Thanks to you.”
He looked like he was about to melt.
And then, because he was Kurosaki Ichigo after all, and could not stand another ten seconds of emotional vulnerability without physically combusting, he abruptly stepped back and cleared his throat.
“A-Anyway!” he barked, a little too loudly. “We should, uh… get going before Tatsuki starts hunting us down.”
Orihime blinked, surprised by the sudden shift.
Ichigo looked at the door like it was an escape route from certain doom.
“And don’t tell anyone I said all that mushy stuff,” he added quickly. “Especially not Keigo. He’ll never let me live it down.”
Orihime pressed her hands to her cheeks and laughed-bright, melodic, and so full of life it echoed in the empty classroom.
“Kurosaki-kun,” she said, eyes sparkling with mischief, “I promise. I won’t tell anyone.”
She paused dramatically.
“Unless… you stop breathing again.”
Ichigo groaned.
“I knew saying that was a mistake.”