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There is not a single possible or impossible scenario Orihime has not thought about throughout her life, starting from imagining herself in an array of different professions, and ending in being a mighty character from a show she likes, which isn’t exactly as far-fetched considering her capabilities.
But even she has to admit that accidentally, and hopefully temporarily, turning into an actual cat never really made it into the top ten of possibilities she considered; thought it could probably make its way into the top twenty.
Then again, is it really that unexpected of an outcome? Settling into a peaceful life far removed from grand supernatural conflicts does not automatically mean leaving everything behind and never ever interacting with those, who defined the time that was anything but tranquil. That means, visiting old friends and acquaintances, and being cordial with them is a must! Urahara’s shop included. But buying something from it without properly reading the label, much less ingesting it, might not have been the best decision.
One moment she was buying and trying what looks like sprinkles with an ambiguous illustration, dessert-like smell, and ‘edible’ slapped onto it, and the next one she was suddenly much shorter, way furrier and unable to see: trapped in a heap of clothes that in the moment seemed to be just a right fit for a giant.
As it turns out, being a cat isn’t all that bad: it’s all about meowing, napping, and grooming, as long as skills like walking and not panicking are mastered. Lucky for her, the sudden metamorphosis was noticed quickly by no other than the owner of the shop himself.
So now, sitting on the soft tatami of some backroom and fighting the urge to sink her newly-acquired claws into the mat out of pure instinct, she is listening to the long-winded explanations on how to stay put and not freak out for long enough for the effects of whatever she ate to pass.
Even with the new scars on his face, he is as cheerful as ever, even crawling on the floor on all-fours to supposedly demonstrate the mechanics of being a cat; though Orihime is sure that he was doing that for his own amusement rather than necessity.
The change in a mostly laid-back atmosphere happens only when a new person arrives, seemingly much more distraught by the situation than both Orihime and Kisuke combined, both for two completely different reasons: the former for the joys of a new experience, and the latter for whatever experiment purposes he has in mind.
“Kurosaki-san, have you ever heard of a ‘peer-review’?” he asks, once Ichigo manages to settle down a bit and come to terms with the fact that his more-than-a-friend friend is temporarily an orange fur ball sprouting a tail, ears, four paws and literally looking like a cat, a cute one, of course, but still a cat. “If we tweak the definition a tiny bit, once Inoue-san is back to normal, she will be able to give her review on the product. An expert review, may I add. Isn’t that right?” he asks, looking from a less-than-excited Ichigo to Orihime, who is currently preoccupied with stalking a dust speck.
After all, no matter the room, the place is just a bit dusty, a tiny bit cluttered, and now feeling a fraction too small.
A cat nods like a human would. Ichigo seems mildly weirded out.
“What part of that consists of mislabeling products?” Ichigo asks, staring at the house-cat as if that’s the strangest thing he’s ever seen. To his credit, a feline that acts like Orihime, has her eyes, and a sizable coat of fur that matches her hair is a sight to see.
“Like I said, that was a production error.”
Despite the conversation bordering on being tense, Orihime is having her fun. A transformation like that is far from ordinary and would not last long, so while it did feel pretty uncomfortable at first, being a cat with a human’s brain but some of animal’s instincts isn’t something she’d pass on.
Of course, the most fascinating thing is observing what’s around. Especially if it’s living and breathing. From a cat’s perspective, no matter how tall or short someone is, them being a human is automatically a point of interest. It’s fascinating how she, as a cat, sees less colors, the world is less vibrant, but how many more details are revealed through other senses.
Even though she and Ichigo are in a pretty awkward phase now, the fact that he came here after a single call from a shop and with genuine worry written all over his face meant a lot; whether it’s the cat’s instinct or her own sentiment, his scent is familiar enough to make her relaxed even in a relatively new place. It’s safe, reliable even, and cozy enough for a few roll overs on the floor.
“So when will she be back to normal?” he asks as if concerned she might suddenly pounce and bite, but still watching the cat twist and turn in a way that suggests that predicament might not be all that bad for her. A big yawn and a stretch that follow only cement his opinion.
While Kisuke is in deep thought and manually recounting each sprinkle not consumed after dumping them straight out of the package onto a tray, she finds a more interesting task.
The agility that comes with being a cat is amazing, so since the environment feels safe in a presence of a certain someone, an acrobatic performance naturally follows. So while the distraction with counting is still obviously going on with a characteristic sound of grains dropping which, as a cat, she of course can hear, she sets her big brown eyes on a perfect target.
Whatever it is that makes her want to show off and display her capabilities, she doesn’t fight at all.
Seeing a leap suddenly taken across the room after a lazy lounging session, Ichigo literally winces despite the landing onto a low cabinet turning out to be perfect.
Even though she learned walking about fifteen minutes ago, moving around is easy when motivated! Especially with an audience that is clearly invested. It feels unusual, of course. Walking is unusual, breathing is unusual, even balancing is unusual. But then again, when would she get an opportunity like this. With the first-hand experience gained, even Tatsuki would have no choice but to believe that she turned into a one hundred percent real cat.
“I’d say an hour or two,” Kisuke finally announces after completing his counting and wiping his forehead as if he’s done many hours worth of labor.
“Two hours?!” is asked by Ichigo in unison with another jump taken. This one doesn’t end that well.
With all her confidence evaporating the moment all four paws land on the thin surface of an opened cabinet door nearby, they shake. She is reluctant to meow, which would be equal to screaming for help, but wobbling back and forth with the door is enough of a sign for Ichigo to practically jump up from his spot.
“Can I- How do I-“ after some hovering with his hands and clear uncertainty on how to handle a cat who is actually a human, the hold he gets of her is so unsure that it’s enough to break the no-meowing rule when the grip on the belly gets too tight.
The scowl that appears on his face is equally as scared as it is nervous.
The second she is standing steadily on the floor, there’s no other way to show appreciation despite the clumsiness, than to bump her head against his calf and circle around in a shape resembling an eight. Judging by the way he freezes, he is still more weirded out than not.
With Kisuke clearing his throat and speaking up again, even in his frozen state Ichigo looks back at him.
“Like I was saying: an hour or two, no cat carriers, and keep a change of clothes around. You need to find a familiar, safe place.”
The solemn nod Ichigo gives in response to that is a good enough indicator that his last encounter with a cat turning into a human is fresh on his mind.
“Is it normal that she is so…uh, tactile?” he follows up hurriedly, probably feeling that both him and Orihime might be overstaying their welcome.
Kisuke waves dismissively, still sitting down and seemingly having no intention to get up and intervene in the cat milling around Ichigo like a shark around a helpless baby seal.
The truth is, if she weren’t turned into a cat, Orihime would definitely not be even a quarter as close. But having a good enough excuse, all while having her usual careful curiosity dialed up and overdriving the usual carefulness around him, is something she likes, especially when his presence is calming despite him currently being anything but.
“Kurosaki-san, it’s not weird as long as you don’t make it weird, so please...”
The joke doesn’t seem to land with how Ichigo turns just a bit brighter in the face and stiffens, which is followed by a barely audible ‘tough crowd’ from the shop owner.
Not having gotten a clear answer but receiving a hint to get out already, he attempts to pick Orihime up again: this time even more careful, seemingly cautious of being too touchy even when she is a cat, whose focus quickly jumps from being on the floor to zeroing in on a string on his shirt which she inevitably and instinctively swats at with her claws retracted.
Soon enough the cat is held just like a baby: stomach up, tail curled to cover it, paws tucked. Feeling pretty exposed, she protests right away. Not even thirty seconds later, she is perched up on his shoulder like a parrot, the balancing there in a cat body surprisingly much easier than on the cabinet door.
The proximity isn’t all that bothersome, in fact, it’s a good enough entertainment, so while the clothes she practically fell out of are being passed in a paper bag like some secret-mission code and words about generous discounts are being exchanged, Orihime busies herself with monitoring. A high ground like this suddenly waking up the instincts to guard and not let even a fly pass by her luxurious transportation method.
Though once they step foot outside, her duties are suddenly reduced from protecting to trying not to let her vibrant fur stand up at any unfamiliar sound, while Ichigo is clearly more concerned about keeping her from falling off, while still letting her have her independence even while being a cat.
The road, when everything around is fascinating through the new set of eyes, is surprisingly short. Despite the world seeming too big for comfort now, it’s not hard to recognize the place she was brought to: Ichigo’s home, rather than hers.
“I wasn’t sure where to bring you,” he says, now used to the weight of a cat acting like a permanent feature on his shoulder. “I can get you home, if you want.”
With a decisive shake of her head that is still obviously too human for comfort, she tries to be as calm as possible with all the fast-moving birds and bugs around that are practically begging to be caught.
The Kurosaki residence is fairly well-known: a two-story building, cozy, always warm and full of chatter with a lot of shared rooms and neatly-cluttered spaces that are definitely something that Yuzu should be thanked for.
Orihime doesn’t get to spend too much time in the shared rooms though. Even though the house is empty and no one is around those areas, she is being brought straight up to his room.
For a human that’s a bit nerve wrecking even after spending plenty of time there. Very nerve wrecking, actually. But thanks to the feline benefits, the only thing that signals a change in mood is her tail jerking from time to time as the distance between the first and second floor is conquered with Ichigo’s measured steps.
As if remembering that there’s no need to carry her since they’re out of the street, he stops.
“Do you want to get off?” he asks, stopping just a few steps away from his room. Wanting to explore as much as she still can, jumping off at his suggestion is an easy decision to make.
Clearly worried about stepping on her, he watches the floor with more carefulness that is probably warranted in the situation. Either way, the second the door is opened, it becomes clear that even if she didn’t know that it was his room, the feel of it alone would be enough to recognize it.
Suddenly a bit embarrassed, he picks up some of the stuff discarded on the floor, makes sure that all the drawers and cabinets are closed so that no balancing issues happen again, and finally sits down on the edge of his bed, clearly determined to stick around for as long as needed for her to revert back safely.
“I’m not sure if you will feel something when it happens, so I could give you a blanket,” he says after watching her explore all around. His eyes finally softening just a little when she plops down on the floor.
Even when no answer follows, he still takes a big enough sheet of fabric to cover her whole when the inevitable happens. Obviously not liking the idea of going through the bag of her clothes given to him, he just leaves them be on a chair as if to simply wait for their owner to return.
With the exploration concluding and the cat instincts once again taking a lead, seeing a large piece of fabric carefully float down to the floor as if carried by tiny invisible clouds, she has no choice but to immediately get up and prepare: eyes focused on the shrinking distance between the floor and the cover, tiny body low to the floor and ready to pounce at any moment.
And when the moment comes, a jump is taken. With a dull thud she slides under the cover at the last possible moment.
The intake of air heard from the edge of the bed sounds like fascination.
With a cat – Orihime – now being a lump under the fabric sprawled out on the wooden floor, Ichigo lets himself relax.
He has seen her in many different states: some strong, some brave, some reliable, some in need of help, but none when she's quite as curious and peculiar. It's almost charming, taking care of her like that isn’t so bad. Not that he'd say that out loud.
A cat or not, seeing her on the floor no matter how warm or comfortable it is, doesn't feel right. After a few moments of deliberation, he stands up, careful not to startle.
When the movements under the thin blanket stop, it's like she can guess what he has in mind. With no protesting or squirming, she lets him relocate her: still bundled up in the blanket and not seeing anything.
When his hold eases and the surfaces changes from a hard floor to a soft mattress, she pokes her head out, brown eyes studying yet another new perspective before settling on a person next to her.
“I can get you something to eat if you want. After you’re back from this, I mean,” he says after some time. Soon after, as if remembering that he is talking to a cat that can’t exactly give an answer, he sighs, resigned.
His room has always felt different from the rest of the house, it’s a bit more private, tucked away and quiet. With it still being a middle of the day, it’s sunny enough to enjoy the sunrays getting in through the window and warming up the little bit of fur that’s visible. It’s calm too.
Her paws have been working overtime without her realizing, kneading at the bedding all while keeping an eye and an ear out, the latter flicking from time to time in response to every breath taken by him and every sound from the outside all of which Ichigo dismisses in favor of not leaving her alone.
There’s no telling what triggers the transformation this time around. The timer definitely hasn’t run out just yet, the given hour is not up, and yet, the change is as sudden as it was the first time around: one moment she is cat-sized, looking at the world in duller tones but much more precision, and the next – the mattress under her is sinking more, the perspective changes, and Ichigo freezes once again; he turns his head away to make sure she can cover up more if needed.
“What were you planning to make?” he asks, still looking away and obviously wondering what on earth she was planning to do with anything bought at Urahara shop.
Even though he is trying not to show it, he is relieved enough to smile a little.
“A sprinkle cake,” she declares, sitting snuggly while covered up, though a bit embarrassed by the proximity and a lack of attire, since that could be grounds for all sorts of misunderstandings. As if feeling that, he gets up and hands the bag over to her, for now focused only on her getting dressed and asking all about what happened after.
His next priority is giving her some privacy.
“I’m just glad you’re fine,” he replies, his eyes briefly dart to her as if to make sure no cat ears or a tail poke out from under the thick blanket.
“Yeah…I think, I might reconsider buying food from there for some time.”
His next sigh sounds suspiciously close to a stifled laugh.