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Orihime stared at her husband for a long moment, admiring his spikey, messed up hair before she decided it was time to make her move. Ichigo was dead asleep at this time, and usually she would be too.
Except for one thing, they were just recently married, which meant all her loneliness regarding her own family hit harder than ever when she saw how supportive Ichigo’s sisters were on their wedding day.
Marrying into a family, trying her hardest to fit in without an issue seemed just as hard as growing up without one, and she had no one to blame for being an outlier.
But here, at night staring at her husband’s face, she thought it would be just a little, tiny bit easier to fit in if she could do this. This one thing that would solidify her into the family tradition.
Drawing on Ichigo’s face while he slept.
The thought came to her almost days after she had the conversation with Ichigo’s sisters Yuzu and Karin. Over a sleepover they begged to happen, Orihime watched the two sisters recount every embarrassing moment Ichigo had ever gone through when he was younger. Claiming they wanted to ‘humble’ him.
One event kept recurring. Ichigo deep asleep, markers, pencils, crayons and paint. They told the absolute hilarious story of how they waited until their brother was deep asleep to draw stupid things on his face, how when Ichigo woke up his reaction would always be the same, yelling, irritation, and even photos taken that they showed her through tears of laughter.
No matter how much Orihime tried to brush it off as childish in her mind, she couldn’t help the type of longing, almost jealousy she had for their sibling dynamics, she found herself days later thinking about their story, their photos and their laughter.
And now, almost embarrassingly, she lay next to her husband staring at his face, ready to draw on it with her makeup pencil between them because she wasn’t cruel enough to use a marker.
Steeling herself, she grabbed the pencil and stared determinedly at it, she wasn’t even sure what she would draw, a heart maybe? A sword shape if she could manage it? Should she have asked his sisters what they usually draw? Was she making a mistake?
He was so peacefully asleep, she almost couldn’t bring herself to do it, maybe, she thought, it was in a sibling-like dynamic to annoy the other.
She shifted closer, almost pressing against him, her makeup pencil was the lightest shade of pink she could find, and one she had bought specifically for this. If she was going to pull this one off, she wanted some form of protection.
She settled for a heart, she moved over him, trying to be as light as possible with her wrist, she pressed down…
And the moment she did, his eyes shot open, and almost quicker than she could register, she grasped her wrist, inches away from his face, and the world spun for less than have a second-
And she was on her back
And her husband was over her, his demeanor alert, scanning around for a threat before looking down at her. He blinked a few times, like he was trying to process why he woke up and half slammed his wife down on their bed, and why was she blinking up at him in shock?
“What the hell…?” he trailed off breathlessly.
Orihime felt her face go red. The mortification hit her almost instantly once she processed what happened. It happened so quickly all she could do was stare up at him for a moment, too stunned to speak.
She made a mental note to be glad that his first response wasn’t an attack, instead choosing to stop any potential threat.
His hand still had her wrist with her make up pencil caught, and for as confused as he was, he was not going to get off her.
She really hoped he wouldn’t look at her wrist.
“Um, good.. Morning?” she tried weakly, unable to look him in the eyes.
“What were you doing?” he asked straightforwardly, staring her down without looking away, and she felt like an idiot, because when had Ichigo ever been the type of man to beat around the bush?
Trying to gather what was left of her dignity, she sat up slightly, and Ichigo moved with her, backing up slightly, but not enough to let her think she was off the hook. She didn’t think there was any normal way out of this, other than trying to squirm away, but she knew he’d hate that.
He let her go, but she handed him the pencil, too embarrassed to try to explain it with the evidence clear as day in her hand. Ichigo looked at the make up pencil in her hand and went.
“You were trying to stab me with this?” He asked, incrediously, like he was offended she would use such a nonthreating thing as a weapon.
“I was not going to stab you!” She was horrified that he would even come to that conclusion.
“I don’t think there’s literally any other explanation, if you’re upset with me-”
“I’m not!” she interrupted, he wasn’t taking this seriously at all, and it only made her more mortified, her eyes shot up to his, silently trying to communicate that she meant no harm, but he wasn’t looking at her, his eyes remained on the pencil until he hummed.
Done with the teasing, he does make eye contact with her, “So…?” He prompted.
Unable to keep up her earlier offense, she looked away. “Yuzu and Karin-”
“What?” His voice was utterly confused. “What do my sisters have to do with this?”
She went red again, and this time her voice failed her. She felt like she was unable to explain the reason for this, afraid that there was some part of her that Ichigo would never understand because they grew up differently. That if she said something stupid like she wanted to be included, he would only brush it off.
But he was giving her that look, the one that told her that he wasn’t angry, he wasn’t pushing and most importantly, the one that said that he didn’t have to understand to be by her side. Orihime found the confidence to speak with every second of a glance that passed between them.
“The day I had the sleep-over with them, Yuzu and Karin told me about how you three did a lot together as siblings,” she took a shaky breath. “Like how when you were younger they would draw on your face while you slept.”
Ichigo leaned closer, still not getting it. “And so… you wanted to draw on my face? My sisters put my wife up to draw on my face?” his brows furrowed.
“They didn't,” Orihime mumbled. “I got the idea on my own, they said it was a tradition so I thought… I thought if I did it too, I would be a part of…”
She couldn’t get the words out, not when she could see his eyes softening in real time, like that day with her brother was as fresh in his mind as hers.
Quickly Orihime wiped at her eyes and then shook her head. “What am I saying?” she laughed. “I know it was a childish idea! I just wanted in on the fun.”
She reached for her pencil, but Ichigo held onto it, not letting her take it. He stared at it as he spoke, like he was giving her a moment for her to process her feelings.
“They did that, drawing on my face.” He sighed. “It was the most annoying thing ever, and the only reason they got away with it was because I didn’t have my soul reaper instincts and reactions.” He looked at her, “sorry, I hadn’t meant to flip you.”
She felt heat creeping up into her face as she waved it off.
Ichigo continued. “I think my sisters are clearly a terrible influence on you, but if they told you, you are already a part of the family.”
He switched the pencil to his other hand deliberately, the one with his ring on. Orihime wiped furiously at her eyes again. Trying to force down whatever might be trying to come up while he spoke to her in such a gentle tone
“I’m not sure what reaction you were hoping to get from me, because me and my sisters yell at each other all the time, you have a different place in my life than that.”
Orihime nodded, feeling embarrassed that she would even begin to expect the same treatment that he gave them, leaving it up to her to try and pull off a prank and get completely different results in the first place.
“But I know you'll want to report on how this went to them… or whatever you three do when I’m not there,” He handed her the pencil.
He handed her the pencil.
“So at least make sure it’s going to show up on the photo, if you still want to do it.”
She was absolutely thrilled, she pressed her lips together to keep down the large smile that was beginning to form on her face. He wasn’t upset! He was actively handing her the very thing she was going to use to draw on his face.
Her face was absolutely red but she still gathered the courage to look up at him.
“I still want to.”