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Entry tags:
Bleach - Oneshot - Mere Friendship
Title: Mere Friendship
Author’s Name:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
parsnip_chan
Written for:_debbiechan_ for the September ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
bleach_flashfic challenge
Pairing/Character: Inoue-->Ichigo, Ichigo/Rukia, Tatsuki-->/+Inoue, Ishida-->Inoue
Genre: backstory, angst, minor attempts at humor
Rating: PG13 for minor swearing
Word Count: 6633
Author’s Note: Spoilers up through the latest manga chapters (Chapter 240ish). I'm actually not happy at all with the ending, but as can be inferred from the word count, I ran out of time. I might tweak this some more before I post it at ff.net if I can think of a better way to end this and if I do, I'll let you know. Sorry_debbiechan_ for giving you something I'm not completely satisfied with.
Summary: Inoue's reiatsu has disappeared from the senses of those on earth leaving friends behind to worry for her.
Mere Friendship
Dawn was just breaking over the Eastern horizon as the alarms of a thousand households cut through the silent world to wake the sleeping to a new day. Weary denizens rolled out their futons in preparation for a day of rest before the next shift started, long hours toiling through the night. A few students were still frantically working on last minute projects and cramming for exams, fatigue instigating an insurrection against their will. It was the usual scene, with a cold wind blowing through the streets, stirring up scattered bits of paper and disturbing the fires of the unemployed and destitute.
At least it should have been an unprepossessing morning.
For a select few who were just beginning to brush the wispy remnants of dreams away, a lack in the air could be felt; something that had been a shining beacon of light filled with warmth and gentle innocence had disappeared from the heavens which refused to acknowledge the gentle waves of light from the rising sun. Inoue’s reiatsu had flickered a bright moment in the lingering air of battles won and lost during the night and was snuffed out.
——
Ishida had been minding his own business when someone plopped down in front of him, her skirts swishing out with the sudden movement. He pushed his glasses back up his nose to better look through them rather than down them like he had been, finding it easier to sew when his glasses were perched precariously on the edge. When his eyes rose to take in the thing that had disturbed him from the delicate lacework he held taut between his fingers, he saw a bubbly personality imprinted on a visage of red hair and pale skin. He had noted this woman before for her strangeness when surrounded by the normal dark skin and darker hair of his fellow classmates, but he had not truly noticed her as he was doing now.
He found that she was a natural distraction up close and disliked it immediately.
Rapidly, his mind flipped through the many cross-referenced files and archives he stored in his mind, as neat and efficient in his memories as he was in real life. Quickly, he found a name to go with the memory snap-shot he had instinctively taken of her at first sighting and said it with all the aloofness he could dredge from long practice. “Inoue-san,” he said, pushing his glasses even higher up on his nose as he tilted his head slightly to look her fully in the eyes.
“Ishida-kun!” she squealed, happy her idol had noted her name. It got rid of all those pesky introductions she hated having to deal with. This, after all, meant that they were friends already, didn’t it? At least, that was the impression ‘Ishida-kun’ inferred watching her face light up and the little half bounce she performed out of glee on the edge of his desk.
He had to remind himself that he was a simple boy at heart, content with his own thoughts and the vengeance he desired above all things. It was the reason he had taken up sewing after all, training his fingers to precision and his eye for speed. It increased the strength in his fingers so that he could better pluck his bowstring with a steady hand. It was his refuge to calm his thoughts, to hone them to a single point of desire.
“Ishida-kun,” Inoue squealed again, smiling brightly. “You’re so talented!” She filched the length of cloth from his hands, twisting it right and left and back to front analyzing the tiny stitches and the detailed embroidery he had diligently sewn into the hem. The lace was an added touch to the cuff and around the waistline, and he was especially proud because it was the first piece of lace he had tatted on his own. It proved that he could learn anything when he put his mind to it.
“This is amazing!” she sighed, caressing the half-finished dress with soft fingers her eyes softening with wistfulness. It almost made him wonder what type of financial situation Inoue was in, to covet a simple dress. But he was Ishida, he did not wonder about such things, and if he felt a little glad that she quickly snuffed out the light of regret from her eyes, well, he ignored that as well.
“Who are you making this cute dress for? A niece? Nephew? Maybe a baby sister? It’s to precious to go unworn!”
Ishida lightly blushed as she continued to babble on about the outfit clutched in her hands. He was afraid to admit that there was no younger sibling or cousin running around with a child just newly born. How could he admit that the blue and white one hundred percent polyester dress was for his childhood bear? How could he admit to owning such a bear in company with the ability to repeat his words? It was the only gift he had received from his mother before she left this world forever, and he fiercely protected that which was his.
“Uh, Inoue-san, the dress is a simply an exercise in creativity. It is not meant for anyone”
He cleared his throat with the hope that she couldn’t hear his half-mumbled words as she continued to talk over him. His thoughts were brought to a halt, however, as he began to actually pay attention to what the bosomed girl was saying.
“You’ve just gotta join the sewing club! We could really use someone with your skill to teach us. We’ve been trying for months and months to figure out how to put this one pattern together—it’s supposed to be one of those stuffed bunny rabbits when we’re finished— but we keep getting it mixed up. I think we cut out the fabric wrong, and we’re just a mess, and this dress would look so cute on it too when we finish!”
She turned her large blue eyes on him, pleading with not just her words, but her whole expression and leaning body. “You’ve just got to become the president of our club! If you could teach us how to do something like this, you’d be a hero to everyone!” She smiled brightly, breath held in anticipation of his agreement.
The minutes dragged on and Ishida stared in bemusement at the increasingly blue visage of the girl in front of him. He had known she was a little odd, but not quite this odd.
Gulping, Ishida took the length of cloth from Inoue-san’s hands before she tore it apart with worrying and gently undoing the snags in the lace where she had bunched it and smoothing out the wrinkles that she had created through rough handling. Clearing his throat, he plunged into the murky waters of her flighty intellect without a wet-suit to keep him warm and dry.
“I’ll take no dissent in the ranks.” Ishida sighed in resignation, poking the dress with his needle and plying it in and out with every beat of his voice letting the rhythm increase the pace of his voice and lending an extra bit of threat to his words. “If I say you’ll work, you’ll work, otherwise I’ll walk out and leave you to fend for yourselves. If you’re going to ask for my help, I expect you to take it and take it well. You are all here to improve your skills, and I will expect improvement from everyone. If you can’t handle that, then tell me now before I waste my precious time helping you out.” He ended his speech with the swift knotting of his thread, pulling it taut against the fabric and clipping it with his scissors.
Inoue merely smiled, nodding her head to every gesture and phrase, and saying a cheery “Yep! That’s exactly what we want,” at the end. Giving him a mock salute, she bounced off across the room to her waiting friends waving madly and saying in a loud voice that he accepted her offer.
They had a teacher.
It was the beginning of his obsession, although he told himself time and time again that he only agreed to her request in order to submerse himself in the midst of chaos and confusion, better to hone his skills. After all, what was battle but chaos incarnate? Entropy was the natural law of things, and it did not like to be ordered even though order could be found in seemingly random things, and if one could see that pattern, then one could manipulate that madness. He would take on the challenge of a group of misinformed and unskilled individuals and make them into an army of needle wielding, confident young adults.
It would be good practice for the future, and not at all because he was intrigued with the audacity of one simpleminded, open, and naively innocent young girl with the unnatural ability to disrupt his focus completely.
——
Her father had returned home in a desolate mood. He looked tired, dejected, and weary enough to lack the energy to say the ritual greetings upon entering his house. It was unlike him.
Running towards him, her younger self tried to cheer him up with a bright smile, her lips opening wide to show a gap in her teeth, the last of her baby teeth having disappeared a few days prior during a karate match. She was proud of her missing tooth, and proud of her parents. She did not like seeing him so worn down and out of sorts.
Tatsuki watched with discerning eyes as her father attempted to return her cheerful smile and appreciated his efforts. However, it failed to brighten her mood because, even though he smiled, it never reached his eyes. Something had gone wrong. His weariness was not due to simple tiredness and overwork; it went deeper.
She really hated fake smiles.
All throughout dinner, she tried to regale her father and mother with tales from school, of the silly things her friends had done and what progress she had made in her martial arts studies. But her tales fell on deaf ears. Her mother was too concerned with her husband’s disposition, and her father was a million miles away dwelling on whatever evilness caused him to be in such a mood.
Tatsuki hated being ignored although not for the reasons most children hated such treatment. She especially disliked it when others sought to protect her by withholding information, thinking she was too weak to handle the concerns of adults. At one time that might have been true, and true still since age often was a crucial factor, but that did not mean they could not test the waters, let fly the lure to see if she would bite, if she could handle the bait and allow herself to be reeled in bit by tiny bit. There were times when she could only handle so much truth, but that’s when she escaped, when she lost her grip on the hook and fled back out to a sea of partial ignorance.
She appreciated it when others tried to keep her informed, trusted her judgment. She did not choose to pursue karate for selfish reasons; she did it so that others could depend on her, could trust in the strength she developed and honed with years of practice and meditation. She enjoyed protecting others. It was who she was.
It wasn’t until dinner was almost finished that her father at last raised his head and looked his wife in the eye and then his daughter. He seemed to have found a measure of peace during the nearly silent meal, Tatsuki’s voice having trailed into silence long ago. It was with a clear voice and broken phrases that he told of how his coworker died in a car accident, leaving behind a young sister about his daughter’s age during the previous night.
Tatsuki remembered being a little unnerved with the sudden downpour that had sprouted up, turning the roads slick with standing water. It had fallen too quickly for the roads to drain properly, and the thunder had lit up the sky in a brilliant shade of pink and blue and yellow light. She had at first been enthralled with the display that stretched from one end of the sky to the next, but then the thunder began tolling, rolling in with wave after wave of sound.
She could only imagine what a girl her age would feel knowing that her brother was dying, her only family gone from this world. She felt pity then, and a fierce desire to shelter this unknown girl from further troubles. She did not envy her the following days and weeks and years. Tatsuki could protect only because she had never known what it was alike to be truly alone. It was her weakness, that lack of experience. She could only understand so much, and in protecting others, she protected herself from ever knowing those hardships.
It was her folly as well, her natural desire to allow others a respite from their cares. After all, strength only lasted for so long before it needed time to regenerate. Her body had taught her that lesson well. She had also been taught through long grueling hours at the dojo that with time to recuperate, a strength that was greater than what had previously been tapped into was born. If she could make others stronger by sheltering them for only a little while, then she would.
And so she now found herself outside a strange door holding the leftovers of their silent meal. She had offered to bring it to the last remaining Inoue and had received encouragement with the gift of her parents’ relieved smiles. They wanted her to take on this role, and that was all she needed to spur her to don her shoes and jacket. Knocking on the quite ordinary door, Tatsuki took a deep breath and readied herself for all manner of outbursts and tears and dreadful wailing.
She knew not what kind of people the Inoue’s were. She only knew what little her father had cared to divulge. Inoue-chan was a girl her own age, yes, but that was about it. The brother had been reserved at work, wanting to convince his superiors that he was worthy of the risks they took in hiring him with a charge barely old enough to be left alone at home. He had avoided all attempts at marriage, wanting to keep himself free for whatever desires his sister developed. He was a respected coworker and a good brother.
And now he was gone.
Knocking on the door yet again, Tatsuki took in her surroundings, noting the empty stairwell and the well worn steps. The complex looked well cared for although it was an older building. It was a good place to live.
Hearing the faint click of a lock turning, Tatsuki turned back to face the door and squared her shoulders in order to take on any manner of outbursts and tear-streaked faces. Prepared, she felt the floor fall beneath her as a shy looking girl with bruised eyes looked out from the apartment. She watched as the long lashes framing dark blue eyes blinked and took in the wrapped box of food in her arms. She marveled at the light that lit up her eyes as she smelled the contents of the package.
“Oh!” she cried, stepping out onto the covered walk way. “Are you here to see my brother?”
Confused, Tatsuki took a step back marveling at the changed expression on her face. “Um, I’m Tatsuki,” she said, sticking out a hand only to have it received with vigorous pumping.
“I’m Inoue Orihime,” was this smiling girl’s reply. “I’m really happy that my brother had such good friends! They’ve been coming by all evening to pay their respects, too. Come in, come in.” Inoue pulled Tatsuki into her spacious apartment for two.
There were containers of food lining her kitchen counter, and a picture of the deceased prominently displayed on a table with candles burning around it for those who wished to pray. She chattered happily as she moved around the apartment, smiling cheerfully all the while.
Tatsuki could do little else but smile as she was swept away in that enigmatic force known as Inoue, the current of her vitality strong even in her moment of grief. She knelt down to pay her respects to a man she had never known but that her father had so obviously taken to. And as she prayed for peace in the after life, she added a special promise to the stern, but kind looking face in the photograph. She would protect that smile that shined even as tears fell from her eyes. She would make sure that Inoue never had cause to grieve again.
It was, in truth, the beginnings of a beautiful friendship.
——
Everything changed one day walking home after club activities. Inoue was still gushing over the latest project, learning how to knit a scarf, when a car came out of nowhere speeding towards her on the snow laden streets. It took only a moment for Ishida to realize that the driver was terrified and that Inoue was oblivious to her surroundings.
It took a second more for Ishida to realize his throat was constricted with fear and his heart had stopped beating in an attempt to hold time still. In another second as the car skidded on the icy road in a mocking display of negligence despite the frantically pumping foot on the brakes, Ishida gathered what energy surrounded him to make his feet fly with grace towards his classmate.
In less then ten seconds the tale was done.
Ishida slowly picked himself out of a snow bank, ears ringing with the sound of metal crumpling against a streetlight, water hissing as snow contacted the now exposed engine of the runaway car. Shaking his head to clear it of unwanted sounds and dizziness and the shot of adrenaline coursing through his veins, Ishida looked down at the angel in his arms, her breath knocked out of her with the force of his grip as he dashed across the street pulling her with him. Inoue seemed hail and strong, no injury marring what he could see, but he still worried that he wasn’t quick enough, that all his training had failed him in a moment of distraction.
“Inoue-san,” he whispered, brushing her cheek with his white-gloved fingers. “Inoue-san, are you okay?” He wiped melting snow from her brow and watched as her eye lashes slowly flickered to reveal distant blue eyes. As Inoue turned her head to look directly into his now glassless face, she smiled, covering up the look of momentary fear and memory from his gaze.
It hurt him, a little, that she thought to hide her weakness from him. Had they not become friends over the course of the last five months? Perhaps it was a little too soon for her to trust him completely, but his heart refused to acknowledge what his brain accepted. There was no law that governed his feelings, no law to make sense of them and keep them from running rampant in times like these.
“You look good without your glasses, Ishida-kun. You should get contacts.” She giggled as she lay entranced beneath him. He was stunned at her carefree expression and inane remarks. She had almost been killed and here she was, brushing off the encounter as though it had never happened.
Standing to his feet, Ishida reached down and helped Inoue to regain her own, accepting with grace the frames she picked up for him thinking the lenses were a necessity to his vision and not a enhancement of it. His brow puckered as he placed the glasses on his nose, his eyes already scanning the woman in front of him for injuries, not trusting her to say the truth in an attempt to keep him from worrying. She did not like it when others fussed over her. It both irked him and beguiled him. She was a world unto herself, and he could not help but be fascinated.
“You’re not injured, are you Inoue-san?” he asked a second time, unwilling to leave the issue alone.
Inoue looked at him and showed one of her rare serious expressions. “I was saved by Ishida-kun so of course I’m fine!” She twirled, showing him the truth in her words. She was surprised when Ishida-kun gathered her close in a fierce hug. She was less surprised when he released her before she could bring her own arms up to surround him.
“Ishida-kun?” she inquired as he stepped back, hiding his face from her view.
“I’m glad you weren’t hurt Inoue-san.” He truly was glad, because in that one horrifying moment, he came to the realization that somehow, in some way, this girl had come to mean more to him than simple classmate. She was his friend, and she did not judge him. That was a priceless gift. He continued to hide his face as he turned to survey the scene.
A man was swearing up a storm at his totaled car while several pedestrians ran up to the scene of the accident while to many others ignored it altogether. It was chaos beginning to unfold and Ishida took comfort in telling those who asked that yes, they were fine, and no they did not need any help.
When he regained his emotions and slid his mask back into place, he gently grasped Inoue’s elbow and pulled her out of the snow pile and back onto the side-walk. In silence he walked home as Inoue babbled on as merrily as she had before the near accident. It was all he could do to ask her to be quiet, to probe to see if she still had fears of her brother’s death. He could already hear the slight edge of hysteria in her senseless babblings, and he did not know how to comfort her.
She would not allow him to comfort her.
In the end, he said his goodbyes at the base of her apartment building, and watched as the top heavy maiden bounced her way up the stairs, unmindful of her footing and the slipperiness of the concrete. He stood there for countless minutes after she disappeared from sight because he was unused to the feeling that welled up within him.
He had been afraid once, when his grandfather died at the hands of Shinigami. He had never thought he would be afraid like that again, but time had proven him wrong. Closing his eyes, he turned away from her door, and walked slowly back to his lonely apartment. He knew now what his beating heart had known for a long time. He was in hopelessly in love with Inoue Orihime.
——
It was a sunny day near the tail end of July. They had recently upgraded to high school and a new group of friends surrounded her as they took their lunch break beneath a shady tree. It was a good day with a nice breeze finding its way around the school buildings and into the open grounds. There had been so many new things to adapt to within the school, one being that Inoue was in her class now and so many other familiar and unfamiliar faces. It had been an easy transition, and Tatsuki was grateful for it.
What made it difficult were the people she now found herself in the midst of. Before, Tatsuki had to only to defend Inoue-chan from the lecherous gazes of horny middle school boys just hitting puberty. Now she had to deal with overactive females who were equally attracted to Inoue’s rather obvious attributes and Inoue’s equally as persistent attempts to ignore all solicitations.
It didn’t help that Inoue was so sweet to begin with, kindly accepting and handing out chocolates on valentines day with no thought for anything more then friendship. Guys swooned over receiving her chocolates and still managed to love her long after they ate the chili-spiced confections and the stomach aches they often induced. Inoue was notorious for combining odd things in her food. Their cooking teacher was almost afraid to allow the girl into her classroom.
Shaking her head, Tatsuki returned to the conversation at hand, laughing over the small inane things that made up their days. Of special interest were boys and when they’d all get their first boyfriends. Only one or two had already delved into the deeper realm of relationships and many were envious of that experience, sensing that those girls had a better chance at enticing the flavor of the month into noticing them. Still, Tatsuki had to laugh at some of the choices her friends made and how much they swooned whenever they perceived the slightest attention.
What did not amuse her was that Chizuru was far to interested in Inoue and her worldly attributes. What angered her was that Chizuru was determined to protect Inoue from those boys on the verge of becoming men by dating Inoue-chan herself.
And today proved no exception as Chizuru leaped across the open circle and tackled Inoue in a suicide glomp, barely evading Tatsuki’s automatic block.
“Inoue-chan!” she cried, rubbing her head between Inoue’s ample breasts, resisting the pull of Tatsuki’s arm around her waist in an attempt to remove her. “I’ll protect you from those big bad men who only want to lavish attention on your XXX and play with your XYZ by putting their YYY into your ZZZ! Don’t ever give into temptation, not even if one comes up to you and tells you he’ll buy you a big diamond and lots and lots of clothes. I won’t let anything taint you!”
Tatsuki fought back the growl that began to escape her throat. Her only consolation at the ire that threatened to spill over her tightly controlled temper was that Inoue was nervous at the casual touch of another on her person and the stunned expression at the thought of men putting their XXX into her ZZZ. Inoue didn’t really know what XXX was or what ZZZ was, but she could guess, and Tatsuki was sure that the girl would ply her with questions upon question on their way home to discover the answer.
She was grateful for only one thing and that was that Chizuru was determined to keep Inoue’s innocence all to herself, preferring to corrupt her in person and by experimentation. If only she could keep the energetic red-head away from the manga store. Tatsuki was getting tired of finding explicit yuri in Inoue’s desk in the morning courtesy of Chizuru’s attempts to coerce her to the dark side of girl on girl love.
“Uh, thank-you Chizuru. I’ll be sure to stay away from men who solicit me for, um, that stuff.” Inoue dusted off her school uniform in an attempt to rid it of the grass stain it acquired from Chizuru rubbing her face against Inoue’s body and the yanking Tatsuki transmitted to her friend through Chizuru. She was quite vigorous in her affections and Tatsuki in her attempts to prevent the girl from molesting Inoue covertly and overtly.
Tatsuki fought against the frown that threatened to mar her face at the thought of anyone rubbing their body against Inoue’s. She was too innocent for that, to pure for anyone to touch the girl in such a manner without Inoue’s explicit permission. She knew she couldn’t protect her best friend from heart-ache, but she could protect her from needless heartache. She deserved that much at least.
As they rose to their feet with the ringing of the lunch bell, Chizuru sidled up to Tatsuki and glared at her competition. “I don’t want anyone to even think about doing XXX with Inoue-chan. Not even you Tatsuki! I’ve seen you look at her out of the corner of your eyes and you’re way too quick to cut off anyone who attempts to get to close. You might not know it yet, but I’m not going to lose to you. Inoue is the love of my life and I will have her one of these days. Until then, I’ll let you stay close only to keep all those nasty men from getting their hands on our Orihime.”
Chizuru smile was sharp as she turned away to sprint to Orihime’s side, clinging to the girl’s arm with all her might. It took Tatsuki a few weeks to realize just what Chizuru hinted at, and it was with dismay that she bitterly accepted the truth. Her desire to shelter Orihime went deeper then best friends. She had grown to love the absentminded girl. She still didn’t understand love and what it really meant, but she at least knew that for her, Orihime was her first crush, her secret love.
——
Later, when the battle was over, and Ishida found out if he was good enough to live another day, he would address the issue of his greatest fears and greatest desires. At the moment, he was faced with bigger things to worry about than whether or not the 11th squad member would keep Inoue safe and out of danger. Instead, he had to deal with keeping Mayuri occupied long enough that there really was no reason to worry.
But first, he had to figure out how to move.
Ishida’s eyes flickered back and forth between the gleeful 12th division captain and his vice-captain. It was a cruel man who could use his own men like that, maiming them without thought or care. What kind of captain could lead with such a disposition?
He did not understand this world.
Pulling bits of spirit threads together, Ishida weaved them into a tight weave, thanking his training in sewing and cloth making that allowed him to know how to bind the threads together into the strongest substance he knew how to make. He needed to be able to manipulate the strings as though he was a famed puppet master. He could afford no mistakes in this battle to the death.
Gracefully, Ishida rose to his full height and turned to face the crazed mask of a man obviously lacking in morals. He had the satisfaction of hearing a thread of surprise in Mayuri’s voice before he recovered and identified the technique that he had used to move his paralyzed body.
It pained him to know that his grandfather had to deal with this maniac daily before his death. Gritting his teeth, Ishida dueled with Mayuri, doing his best to keep his focus on the battle at hand. He found it difficult, wishing that he had the chance to tell Inoue just how deeply he felt towards her. He found it equally as difficult knowing that he had no chance against this man who stood in front of him.
Dredging strength from his memories, he knew that he had yet to find the thing he wanted to protect, that he had the honor of protecting. He understood bits and pieces of his grandfather’s wisdom, but what was wisdom when the thing he wanted most was denied him? He knew after coming to Seireitei that Inoue would never be his, would never lose sight of the thing she wanted most.
Inoue was a pure spirit, innocent and unfit for battle. She was smart in ways that continued to amaze him. She was beautiful in ways she was oblivious in. She was everything he wanted to possess, but she would never be his. Her heart had been lost to Ichigo a long time ago, and he was just now beginning to understand that.
He could not protect his friend, the person who had barreled through all of his barriers to find the person he hid from everyone, at least not in the ways that he wanted to. He could not protect her from a broken heart because this entire mission suggested Ichigo had already lost himself to Rukia. He could not protect her from herself as she fell deeper in love and grew to understand that she had no role on this battlefield, that there was no way she could aid Ichigo in his quest. He was helpless to do the things he desired.
All he could do was destroy this enemy in front of him, give Inoue the chance to find shelter from the man who was determined to use his friend in experiments, to dissect her and find out how she worked, how her magic worked. Releasing the glove on his arm, he felt energy flow into him, coursing through his blood in time to the beating of his heart.
He could not save Inoue, and he could not save his grandfather in all the ways that mattered, but he could at least get his revenge on this thing shouting obscenities at him. Gathering the last of his powers together, he released it, searing the captain’s bankai in a vision of brilliant light. Content at having proved to himself and everyone the true power of a Quincy he turned to the vice-captain and noted the relief in her eyes.
He did not have the heart to tell her that he had spared the life of her father not because of any internal feeling of compassion, but rather because he could not face Inoue’s condemning eyes if she knew he had killed another being. She was far too kind-hearted for the battlefield, but she would never leave it as long as Ichigo stood at the apex of the fighting.
——
She had been up all night, sensing strange things going on all around her, a score of different signatures fading in and out as though a great battle was being fought. She could even see flashes of brilliant energy flying everywhere in the distant sky. It reminded her of that storm the day Inoue’s brother died.
Such evenings were never comforting.
She nearly lost it when she felt the tenuous energy of Inoue’s presence break with the loss of tensile strength. She felt helpless, hopeless. There was nothing she could do because everyone —Ichigo, Chad, Inoue, even Ishida— had kept her out of the loop for the past year. She knew strange things were going on beyond the range of normal human vision. She knew that the slew of transfer students all had something to do with the influx of energy she felt growing steadily since what seemed like forever, but they didn’t trust her with what was going on.
What was the use of training if she never had the opportunity to use it for anyone? She was afraid to admit that she was no longer even needed as a friend.
And so she ran out into the night as the war that was just beyond her reach lulled into fading slumber much to the confusion of her half-asleep parents. She ran as hard as she could to Inoue’s home, banging on the door and causing a ruckus. She had to give up when the neighbors came out hurling profanities and swearing to get Inoue thrown out of the complex for noise pollution.
Tatsuki hadn’t wanted to admit it then, but she had known from the beginning that Inoue was not at home. With no where else to go, she ran to every place she could think of that Inoue might visit. She went to the park where they ate ice cream. She searched through Inoue’s favorite haunts along the riverbank and her favorite stores even though they would be closed and inaccessible. She combed through the school in the light of the early dawn hoping that Inoue had needed to find solace in that institution, something normal and one of the few places Inoue had contact with her unrequited love.
She wasn’t there either.
Mind at a loss, she stood outside Kurosaki’s home, wishing just a little, that Inoue was ensconced there safe and warm against the night’s fading chill. It was a bitter revelation that she could feel the tell tale whiff of Orihime’s presence within Ichigo’s house. The bitterness deepened when she noticed that Ichigo had long sense deserted his home and taken that aura with him.
Forlorn, she returned to her home and her concerned parents, frightened at the strange behavior their daughter exuded. They were not keen to let her return to school for the day. They wanted to coddle her, keep her safe at home where she could rest and return to normal, but Tatsuki had a mission. She needed to make sure that Inoue was truly all right, that her senses were telling her lies.
And when she found out that Inoue was absent from school, that Ichigo had returned for the first time in a month, alone, she hit him. Hard. All her frustrations, anger, helplessness compacted into one powerful punch, and then she ran away, crying, because Ichigo knew where Inoue was and she didn’t. Inoue no longer needed her.
——
He did not understand why Inoue decided to say goodbye to him over everyone else. He could not understand why she felt she had to heal his wounds and sacrifice her life for the sake of all. He could only guess as to why she had been abducted and yet given a chance to come to his aid. He didn’t understand it, but he was grateful that for whatever reason, Aizen wanted to keep her alive.
If she was alive, then there was still a chance that she could be rescued. His face settled in determination as he stepped through the portals that Urahara opened in the cavernous room, two companions at his side. He did not like the fact that he was putting two friends at risk for the sake of one, but he couldn’t deny them the choice of facing that risk just like he couldn’t deny himself that choice.
It showed that Inoue was loved, that Inoue was valued. That made him hope that there was a chance for her after all. He just wished that those closest to her would speak up and actually show their feelings once in a while rather then continuously taking it out on him!
He flexed his jaw, feeling the bruised skin pull against the working tendons. One of these days, he was going to have to put Tatsuki in a head lock and force her to say the words she was to scared to say out loud. They were friends, but they couldn’t say the simplest words.
Ichigo looked askance at Ishida, inwardly laughing at the determined expression in his eyes as he explained just why he wasn’t going against his promise to stay away from shinigami in order to find Inoue. If ever a man needed a good prodding in the ass it was Ishida Uryuu. The man exuded pining emotions whenever Inoue was near, and Ichigo was dense most of the time. He could admit it; he was dense, but anyone could see from a mile away that Ishida felt something for their missing friend.
Well, everyone except Inoue, maybe.
Ichigo had to wonder, as they sprinted the last bit of distance to Hueco Mundo, just how much Inoue actually saw and how much she chose to ignore. It was Inoue after all, and she had healed him rather then say good bye to the two closest friends she had. Shaking his head, he turned his thoughts to finding her just so he could ask her why she was so frightened of keeping Ishida and Tatsuki by her side.
People were foolish, but they didn’t have to be as stupid as he was.
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Author’s Name:
parsnip_chanWritten for:
_debbiechan_ for the September bleach_flashfic challengePairing/Character: Inoue-->Ichigo, Ichigo/Rukia, Tatsuki-->/+Inoue, Ishida-->Inoue
Genre: backstory, angst, minor attempts at humor
Rating: PG13 for minor swearing
Word Count: 6633
Author’s Note: Spoilers up through the latest manga chapters (Chapter 240ish). I'm actually not happy at all with the ending, but as can be inferred from the word count, I ran out of time. I might tweak this some more before I post it at ff.net if I can think of a better way to end this and if I do, I'll let you know. Sorry
_debbiechan_ for giving you something I'm not completely satisfied with.Summary: Inoue's reiatsu has disappeared from the senses of those on earth leaving friends behind to worry for her.
Dawn was just breaking over the Eastern horizon as the alarms of a thousand households cut through the silent world to wake the sleeping to a new day. Weary denizens rolled out their futons in preparation for a day of rest before the next shift started, long hours toiling through the night. A few students were still frantically working on last minute projects and cramming for exams, fatigue instigating an insurrection against their will. It was the usual scene, with a cold wind blowing through the streets, stirring up scattered bits of paper and disturbing the fires of the unemployed and destitute.
At least it should have been an unprepossessing morning.
For a select few who were just beginning to brush the wispy remnants of dreams away, a lack in the air could be felt; something that had been a shining beacon of light filled with warmth and gentle innocence had disappeared from the heavens which refused to acknowledge the gentle waves of light from the rising sun. Inoue’s reiatsu had flickered a bright moment in the lingering air of battles won and lost during the night and was snuffed out.
Ishida had been minding his own business when someone plopped down in front of him, her skirts swishing out with the sudden movement. He pushed his glasses back up his nose to better look through them rather than down them like he had been, finding it easier to sew when his glasses were perched precariously on the edge. When his eyes rose to take in the thing that had disturbed him from the delicate lacework he held taut between his fingers, he saw a bubbly personality imprinted on a visage of red hair and pale skin. He had noted this woman before for her strangeness when surrounded by the normal dark skin and darker hair of his fellow classmates, but he had not truly noticed her as he was doing now.
He found that she was a natural distraction up close and disliked it immediately.
Rapidly, his mind flipped through the many cross-referenced files and archives he stored in his mind, as neat and efficient in his memories as he was in real life. Quickly, he found a name to go with the memory snap-shot he had instinctively taken of her at first sighting and said it with all the aloofness he could dredge from long practice. “Inoue-san,” he said, pushing his glasses even higher up on his nose as he tilted his head slightly to look her fully in the eyes.
“Ishida-kun!” she squealed, happy her idol had noted her name. It got rid of all those pesky introductions she hated having to deal with. This, after all, meant that they were friends already, didn’t it? At least, that was the impression ‘Ishida-kun’ inferred watching her face light up and the little half bounce she performed out of glee on the edge of his desk.
He had to remind himself that he was a simple boy at heart, content with his own thoughts and the vengeance he desired above all things. It was the reason he had taken up sewing after all, training his fingers to precision and his eye for speed. It increased the strength in his fingers so that he could better pluck his bowstring with a steady hand. It was his refuge to calm his thoughts, to hone them to a single point of desire.
“Ishida-kun,” Inoue squealed again, smiling brightly. “You’re so talented!” She filched the length of cloth from his hands, twisting it right and left and back to front analyzing the tiny stitches and the detailed embroidery he had diligently sewn into the hem. The lace was an added touch to the cuff and around the waistline, and he was especially proud because it was the first piece of lace he had tatted on his own. It proved that he could learn anything when he put his mind to it.
“This is amazing!” she sighed, caressing the half-finished dress with soft fingers her eyes softening with wistfulness. It almost made him wonder what type of financial situation Inoue was in, to covet a simple dress. But he was Ishida, he did not wonder about such things, and if he felt a little glad that she quickly snuffed out the light of regret from her eyes, well, he ignored that as well.
“Who are you making this cute dress for? A niece? Nephew? Maybe a baby sister? It’s to precious to go unworn!”
Ishida lightly blushed as she continued to babble on about the outfit clutched in her hands. He was afraid to admit that there was no younger sibling or cousin running around with a child just newly born. How could he admit that the blue and white one hundred percent polyester dress was for his childhood bear? How could he admit to owning such a bear in company with the ability to repeat his words? It was the only gift he had received from his mother before she left this world forever, and he fiercely protected that which was his.
“Uh, Inoue-san, the dress is a simply an exercise in creativity. It is not meant for anyone”
He cleared his throat with the hope that she couldn’t hear his half-mumbled words as she continued to talk over him. His thoughts were brought to a halt, however, as he began to actually pay attention to what the bosomed girl was saying.
“You’ve just gotta join the sewing club! We could really use someone with your skill to teach us. We’ve been trying for months and months to figure out how to put this one pattern together—it’s supposed to be one of those stuffed bunny rabbits when we’re finished— but we keep getting it mixed up. I think we cut out the fabric wrong, and we’re just a mess, and this dress would look so cute on it too when we finish!”
She turned her large blue eyes on him, pleading with not just her words, but her whole expression and leaning body. “You’ve just got to become the president of our club! If you could teach us how to do something like this, you’d be a hero to everyone!” She smiled brightly, breath held in anticipation of his agreement.
The minutes dragged on and Ishida stared in bemusement at the increasingly blue visage of the girl in front of him. He had known she was a little odd, but not quite this odd.
Gulping, Ishida took the length of cloth from Inoue-san’s hands before she tore it apart with worrying and gently undoing the snags in the lace where she had bunched it and smoothing out the wrinkles that she had created through rough handling. Clearing his throat, he plunged into the murky waters of her flighty intellect without a wet-suit to keep him warm and dry.
“I’ll take no dissent in the ranks.” Ishida sighed in resignation, poking the dress with his needle and plying it in and out with every beat of his voice letting the rhythm increase the pace of his voice and lending an extra bit of threat to his words. “If I say you’ll work, you’ll work, otherwise I’ll walk out and leave you to fend for yourselves. If you’re going to ask for my help, I expect you to take it and take it well. You are all here to improve your skills, and I will expect improvement from everyone. If you can’t handle that, then tell me now before I waste my precious time helping you out.” He ended his speech with the swift knotting of his thread, pulling it taut against the fabric and clipping it with his scissors.
Inoue merely smiled, nodding her head to every gesture and phrase, and saying a cheery “Yep! That’s exactly what we want,” at the end. Giving him a mock salute, she bounced off across the room to her waiting friends waving madly and saying in a loud voice that he accepted her offer.
They had a teacher.
It was the beginning of his obsession, although he told himself time and time again that he only agreed to her request in order to submerse himself in the midst of chaos and confusion, better to hone his skills. After all, what was battle but chaos incarnate? Entropy was the natural law of things, and it did not like to be ordered even though order could be found in seemingly random things, and if one could see that pattern, then one could manipulate that madness. He would take on the challenge of a group of misinformed and unskilled individuals and make them into an army of needle wielding, confident young adults.
It would be good practice for the future, and not at all because he was intrigued with the audacity of one simpleminded, open, and naively innocent young girl with the unnatural ability to disrupt his focus completely.
Her father had returned home in a desolate mood. He looked tired, dejected, and weary enough to lack the energy to say the ritual greetings upon entering his house. It was unlike him.
Running towards him, her younger self tried to cheer him up with a bright smile, her lips opening wide to show a gap in her teeth, the last of her baby teeth having disappeared a few days prior during a karate match. She was proud of her missing tooth, and proud of her parents. She did not like seeing him so worn down and out of sorts.
Tatsuki watched with discerning eyes as her father attempted to return her cheerful smile and appreciated his efforts. However, it failed to brighten her mood because, even though he smiled, it never reached his eyes. Something had gone wrong. His weariness was not due to simple tiredness and overwork; it went deeper.
She really hated fake smiles.
All throughout dinner, she tried to regale her father and mother with tales from school, of the silly things her friends had done and what progress she had made in her martial arts studies. But her tales fell on deaf ears. Her mother was too concerned with her husband’s disposition, and her father was a million miles away dwelling on whatever evilness caused him to be in such a mood.
Tatsuki hated being ignored although not for the reasons most children hated such treatment. She especially disliked it when others sought to protect her by withholding information, thinking she was too weak to handle the concerns of adults. At one time that might have been true, and true still since age often was a crucial factor, but that did not mean they could not test the waters, let fly the lure to see if she would bite, if she could handle the bait and allow herself to be reeled in bit by tiny bit. There were times when she could only handle so much truth, but that’s when she escaped, when she lost her grip on the hook and fled back out to a sea of partial ignorance.
She appreciated it when others tried to keep her informed, trusted her judgment. She did not choose to pursue karate for selfish reasons; she did it so that others could depend on her, could trust in the strength she developed and honed with years of practice and meditation. She enjoyed protecting others. It was who she was.
It wasn’t until dinner was almost finished that her father at last raised his head and looked his wife in the eye and then his daughter. He seemed to have found a measure of peace during the nearly silent meal, Tatsuki’s voice having trailed into silence long ago. It was with a clear voice and broken phrases that he told of how his coworker died in a car accident, leaving behind a young sister about his daughter’s age during the previous night.
Tatsuki remembered being a little unnerved with the sudden downpour that had sprouted up, turning the roads slick with standing water. It had fallen too quickly for the roads to drain properly, and the thunder had lit up the sky in a brilliant shade of pink and blue and yellow light. She had at first been enthralled with the display that stretched from one end of the sky to the next, but then the thunder began tolling, rolling in with wave after wave of sound.
She could only imagine what a girl her age would feel knowing that her brother was dying, her only family gone from this world. She felt pity then, and a fierce desire to shelter this unknown girl from further troubles. She did not envy her the following days and weeks and years. Tatsuki could protect only because she had never known what it was alike to be truly alone. It was her weakness, that lack of experience. She could only understand so much, and in protecting others, she protected herself from ever knowing those hardships.
It was her folly as well, her natural desire to allow others a respite from their cares. After all, strength only lasted for so long before it needed time to regenerate. Her body had taught her that lesson well. She had also been taught through long grueling hours at the dojo that with time to recuperate, a strength that was greater than what had previously been tapped into was born. If she could make others stronger by sheltering them for only a little while, then she would.
And so she now found herself outside a strange door holding the leftovers of their silent meal. She had offered to bring it to the last remaining Inoue and had received encouragement with the gift of her parents’ relieved smiles. They wanted her to take on this role, and that was all she needed to spur her to don her shoes and jacket. Knocking on the quite ordinary door, Tatsuki took a deep breath and readied herself for all manner of outbursts and tears and dreadful wailing.
She knew not what kind of people the Inoue’s were. She only knew what little her father had cared to divulge. Inoue-chan was a girl her own age, yes, but that was about it. The brother had been reserved at work, wanting to convince his superiors that he was worthy of the risks they took in hiring him with a charge barely old enough to be left alone at home. He had avoided all attempts at marriage, wanting to keep himself free for whatever desires his sister developed. He was a respected coworker and a good brother.
And now he was gone.
Knocking on the door yet again, Tatsuki took in her surroundings, noting the empty stairwell and the well worn steps. The complex looked well cared for although it was an older building. It was a good place to live.
Hearing the faint click of a lock turning, Tatsuki turned back to face the door and squared her shoulders in order to take on any manner of outbursts and tear-streaked faces. Prepared, she felt the floor fall beneath her as a shy looking girl with bruised eyes looked out from the apartment. She watched as the long lashes framing dark blue eyes blinked and took in the wrapped box of food in her arms. She marveled at the light that lit up her eyes as she smelled the contents of the package.
“Oh!” she cried, stepping out onto the covered walk way. “Are you here to see my brother?”
Confused, Tatsuki took a step back marveling at the changed expression on her face. “Um, I’m Tatsuki,” she said, sticking out a hand only to have it received with vigorous pumping.
“I’m Inoue Orihime,” was this smiling girl’s reply. “I’m really happy that my brother had such good friends! They’ve been coming by all evening to pay their respects, too. Come in, come in.” Inoue pulled Tatsuki into her spacious apartment for two.
There were containers of food lining her kitchen counter, and a picture of the deceased prominently displayed on a table with candles burning around it for those who wished to pray. She chattered happily as she moved around the apartment, smiling cheerfully all the while.
Tatsuki could do little else but smile as she was swept away in that enigmatic force known as Inoue, the current of her vitality strong even in her moment of grief. She knelt down to pay her respects to a man she had never known but that her father had so obviously taken to. And as she prayed for peace in the after life, she added a special promise to the stern, but kind looking face in the photograph. She would protect that smile that shined even as tears fell from her eyes. She would make sure that Inoue never had cause to grieve again.
It was, in truth, the beginnings of a beautiful friendship.
Everything changed one day walking home after club activities. Inoue was still gushing over the latest project, learning how to knit a scarf, when a car came out of nowhere speeding towards her on the snow laden streets. It took only a moment for Ishida to realize that the driver was terrified and that Inoue was oblivious to her surroundings.
It took a second more for Ishida to realize his throat was constricted with fear and his heart had stopped beating in an attempt to hold time still. In another second as the car skidded on the icy road in a mocking display of negligence despite the frantically pumping foot on the brakes, Ishida gathered what energy surrounded him to make his feet fly with grace towards his classmate.
In less then ten seconds the tale was done.
Ishida slowly picked himself out of a snow bank, ears ringing with the sound of metal crumpling against a streetlight, water hissing as snow contacted the now exposed engine of the runaway car. Shaking his head to clear it of unwanted sounds and dizziness and the shot of adrenaline coursing through his veins, Ishida looked down at the angel in his arms, her breath knocked out of her with the force of his grip as he dashed across the street pulling her with him. Inoue seemed hail and strong, no injury marring what he could see, but he still worried that he wasn’t quick enough, that all his training had failed him in a moment of distraction.
“Inoue-san,” he whispered, brushing her cheek with his white-gloved fingers. “Inoue-san, are you okay?” He wiped melting snow from her brow and watched as her eye lashes slowly flickered to reveal distant blue eyes. As Inoue turned her head to look directly into his now glassless face, she smiled, covering up the look of momentary fear and memory from his gaze.
It hurt him, a little, that she thought to hide her weakness from him. Had they not become friends over the course of the last five months? Perhaps it was a little too soon for her to trust him completely, but his heart refused to acknowledge what his brain accepted. There was no law that governed his feelings, no law to make sense of them and keep them from running rampant in times like these.
“You look good without your glasses, Ishida-kun. You should get contacts.” She giggled as she lay entranced beneath him. He was stunned at her carefree expression and inane remarks. She had almost been killed and here she was, brushing off the encounter as though it had never happened.
Standing to his feet, Ishida reached down and helped Inoue to regain her own, accepting with grace the frames she picked up for him thinking the lenses were a necessity to his vision and not a enhancement of it. His brow puckered as he placed the glasses on his nose, his eyes already scanning the woman in front of him for injuries, not trusting her to say the truth in an attempt to keep him from worrying. She did not like it when others fussed over her. It both irked him and beguiled him. She was a world unto herself, and he could not help but be fascinated.
“You’re not injured, are you Inoue-san?” he asked a second time, unwilling to leave the issue alone.
Inoue looked at him and showed one of her rare serious expressions. “I was saved by Ishida-kun so of course I’m fine!” She twirled, showing him the truth in her words. She was surprised when Ishida-kun gathered her close in a fierce hug. She was less surprised when he released her before she could bring her own arms up to surround him.
“Ishida-kun?” she inquired as he stepped back, hiding his face from her view.
“I’m glad you weren’t hurt Inoue-san.” He truly was glad, because in that one horrifying moment, he came to the realization that somehow, in some way, this girl had come to mean more to him than simple classmate. She was his friend, and she did not judge him. That was a priceless gift. He continued to hide his face as he turned to survey the scene.
A man was swearing up a storm at his totaled car while several pedestrians ran up to the scene of the accident while to many others ignored it altogether. It was chaos beginning to unfold and Ishida took comfort in telling those who asked that yes, they were fine, and no they did not need any help.
When he regained his emotions and slid his mask back into place, he gently grasped Inoue’s elbow and pulled her out of the snow pile and back onto the side-walk. In silence he walked home as Inoue babbled on as merrily as she had before the near accident. It was all he could do to ask her to be quiet, to probe to see if she still had fears of her brother’s death. He could already hear the slight edge of hysteria in her senseless babblings, and he did not know how to comfort her.
She would not allow him to comfort her.
In the end, he said his goodbyes at the base of her apartment building, and watched as the top heavy maiden bounced her way up the stairs, unmindful of her footing and the slipperiness of the concrete. He stood there for countless minutes after she disappeared from sight because he was unused to the feeling that welled up within him.
He had been afraid once, when his grandfather died at the hands of Shinigami. He had never thought he would be afraid like that again, but time had proven him wrong. Closing his eyes, he turned away from her door, and walked slowly back to his lonely apartment. He knew now what his beating heart had known for a long time. He was in hopelessly in love with Inoue Orihime.
It was a sunny day near the tail end of July. They had recently upgraded to high school and a new group of friends surrounded her as they took their lunch break beneath a shady tree. It was a good day with a nice breeze finding its way around the school buildings and into the open grounds. There had been so many new things to adapt to within the school, one being that Inoue was in her class now and so many other familiar and unfamiliar faces. It had been an easy transition, and Tatsuki was grateful for it.
What made it difficult were the people she now found herself in the midst of. Before, Tatsuki had to only to defend Inoue-chan from the lecherous gazes of horny middle school boys just hitting puberty. Now she had to deal with overactive females who were equally attracted to Inoue’s rather obvious attributes and Inoue’s equally as persistent attempts to ignore all solicitations.
It didn’t help that Inoue was so sweet to begin with, kindly accepting and handing out chocolates on valentines day with no thought for anything more then friendship. Guys swooned over receiving her chocolates and still managed to love her long after they ate the chili-spiced confections and the stomach aches they often induced. Inoue was notorious for combining odd things in her food. Their cooking teacher was almost afraid to allow the girl into her classroom.
Shaking her head, Tatsuki returned to the conversation at hand, laughing over the small inane things that made up their days. Of special interest were boys and when they’d all get their first boyfriends. Only one or two had already delved into the deeper realm of relationships and many were envious of that experience, sensing that those girls had a better chance at enticing the flavor of the month into noticing them. Still, Tatsuki had to laugh at some of the choices her friends made and how much they swooned whenever they perceived the slightest attention.
What did not amuse her was that Chizuru was far to interested in Inoue and her worldly attributes. What angered her was that Chizuru was determined to protect Inoue from those boys on the verge of becoming men by dating Inoue-chan herself.
And today proved no exception as Chizuru leaped across the open circle and tackled Inoue in a suicide glomp, barely evading Tatsuki’s automatic block.
“Inoue-chan!” she cried, rubbing her head between Inoue’s ample breasts, resisting the pull of Tatsuki’s arm around her waist in an attempt to remove her. “I’ll protect you from those big bad men who only want to lavish attention on your XXX and play with your XYZ by putting their YYY into your ZZZ! Don’t ever give into temptation, not even if one comes up to you and tells you he’ll buy you a big diamond and lots and lots of clothes. I won’t let anything taint you!”
Tatsuki fought back the growl that began to escape her throat. Her only consolation at the ire that threatened to spill over her tightly controlled temper was that Inoue was nervous at the casual touch of another on her person and the stunned expression at the thought of men putting their XXX into her ZZZ. Inoue didn’t really know what XXX was or what ZZZ was, but she could guess, and Tatsuki was sure that the girl would ply her with questions upon question on their way home to discover the answer.
She was grateful for only one thing and that was that Chizuru was determined to keep Inoue’s innocence all to herself, preferring to corrupt her in person and by experimentation. If only she could keep the energetic red-head away from the manga store. Tatsuki was getting tired of finding explicit yuri in Inoue’s desk in the morning courtesy of Chizuru’s attempts to coerce her to the dark side of girl on girl love.
“Uh, thank-you Chizuru. I’ll be sure to stay away from men who solicit me for, um, that stuff.” Inoue dusted off her school uniform in an attempt to rid it of the grass stain it acquired from Chizuru rubbing her face against Inoue’s body and the yanking Tatsuki transmitted to her friend through Chizuru. She was quite vigorous in her affections and Tatsuki in her attempts to prevent the girl from molesting Inoue covertly and overtly.
Tatsuki fought against the frown that threatened to mar her face at the thought of anyone rubbing their body against Inoue’s. She was too innocent for that, to pure for anyone to touch the girl in such a manner without Inoue’s explicit permission. She knew she couldn’t protect her best friend from heart-ache, but she could protect her from needless heartache. She deserved that much at least.
As they rose to their feet with the ringing of the lunch bell, Chizuru sidled up to Tatsuki and glared at her competition. “I don’t want anyone to even think about doing XXX with Inoue-chan. Not even you Tatsuki! I’ve seen you look at her out of the corner of your eyes and you’re way too quick to cut off anyone who attempts to get to close. You might not know it yet, but I’m not going to lose to you. Inoue is the love of my life and I will have her one of these days. Until then, I’ll let you stay close only to keep all those nasty men from getting their hands on our Orihime.”
Chizuru smile was sharp as she turned away to sprint to Orihime’s side, clinging to the girl’s arm with all her might. It took Tatsuki a few weeks to realize just what Chizuru hinted at, and it was with dismay that she bitterly accepted the truth. Her desire to shelter Orihime went deeper then best friends. She had grown to love the absentminded girl. She still didn’t understand love and what it really meant, but she at least knew that for her, Orihime was her first crush, her secret love.
Later, when the battle was over, and Ishida found out if he was good enough to live another day, he would address the issue of his greatest fears and greatest desires. At the moment, he was faced with bigger things to worry about than whether or not the 11th squad member would keep Inoue safe and out of danger. Instead, he had to deal with keeping Mayuri occupied long enough that there really was no reason to worry.
But first, he had to figure out how to move.
Ishida’s eyes flickered back and forth between the gleeful 12th division captain and his vice-captain. It was a cruel man who could use his own men like that, maiming them without thought or care. What kind of captain could lead with such a disposition?
He did not understand this world.
Pulling bits of spirit threads together, Ishida weaved them into a tight weave, thanking his training in sewing and cloth making that allowed him to know how to bind the threads together into the strongest substance he knew how to make. He needed to be able to manipulate the strings as though he was a famed puppet master. He could afford no mistakes in this battle to the death.
Gracefully, Ishida rose to his full height and turned to face the crazed mask of a man obviously lacking in morals. He had the satisfaction of hearing a thread of surprise in Mayuri’s voice before he recovered and identified the technique that he had used to move his paralyzed body.
It pained him to know that his grandfather had to deal with this maniac daily before his death. Gritting his teeth, Ishida dueled with Mayuri, doing his best to keep his focus on the battle at hand. He found it difficult, wishing that he had the chance to tell Inoue just how deeply he felt towards her. He found it equally as difficult knowing that he had no chance against this man who stood in front of him.
Dredging strength from his memories, he knew that he had yet to find the thing he wanted to protect, that he had the honor of protecting. He understood bits and pieces of his grandfather’s wisdom, but what was wisdom when the thing he wanted most was denied him? He knew after coming to Seireitei that Inoue would never be his, would never lose sight of the thing she wanted most.
Inoue was a pure spirit, innocent and unfit for battle. She was smart in ways that continued to amaze him. She was beautiful in ways she was oblivious in. She was everything he wanted to possess, but she would never be his. Her heart had been lost to Ichigo a long time ago, and he was just now beginning to understand that.
He could not protect his friend, the person who had barreled through all of his barriers to find the person he hid from everyone, at least not in the ways that he wanted to. He could not protect her from a broken heart because this entire mission suggested Ichigo had already lost himself to Rukia. He could not protect her from herself as she fell deeper in love and grew to understand that she had no role on this battlefield, that there was no way she could aid Ichigo in his quest. He was helpless to do the things he desired.
All he could do was destroy this enemy in front of him, give Inoue the chance to find shelter from the man who was determined to use his friend in experiments, to dissect her and find out how she worked, how her magic worked. Releasing the glove on his arm, he felt energy flow into him, coursing through his blood in time to the beating of his heart.
He could not save Inoue, and he could not save his grandfather in all the ways that mattered, but he could at least get his revenge on this thing shouting obscenities at him. Gathering the last of his powers together, he released it, searing the captain’s bankai in a vision of brilliant light. Content at having proved to himself and everyone the true power of a Quincy he turned to the vice-captain and noted the relief in her eyes.
He did not have the heart to tell her that he had spared the life of her father not because of any internal feeling of compassion, but rather because he could not face Inoue’s condemning eyes if she knew he had killed another being. She was far too kind-hearted for the battlefield, but she would never leave it as long as Ichigo stood at the apex of the fighting.
She had been up all night, sensing strange things going on all around her, a score of different signatures fading in and out as though a great battle was being fought. She could even see flashes of brilliant energy flying everywhere in the distant sky. It reminded her of that storm the day Inoue’s brother died.
Such evenings were never comforting.
She nearly lost it when she felt the tenuous energy of Inoue’s presence break with the loss of tensile strength. She felt helpless, hopeless. There was nothing she could do because everyone —Ichigo, Chad, Inoue, even Ishida— had kept her out of the loop for the past year. She knew strange things were going on beyond the range of normal human vision. She knew that the slew of transfer students all had something to do with the influx of energy she felt growing steadily since what seemed like forever, but they didn’t trust her with what was going on.
What was the use of training if she never had the opportunity to use it for anyone? She was afraid to admit that she was no longer even needed as a friend.
And so she ran out into the night as the war that was just beyond her reach lulled into fading slumber much to the confusion of her half-asleep parents. She ran as hard as she could to Inoue’s home, banging on the door and causing a ruckus. She had to give up when the neighbors came out hurling profanities and swearing to get Inoue thrown out of the complex for noise pollution.
Tatsuki hadn’t wanted to admit it then, but she had known from the beginning that Inoue was not at home. With no where else to go, she ran to every place she could think of that Inoue might visit. She went to the park where they ate ice cream. She searched through Inoue’s favorite haunts along the riverbank and her favorite stores even though they would be closed and inaccessible. She combed through the school in the light of the early dawn hoping that Inoue had needed to find solace in that institution, something normal and one of the few places Inoue had contact with her unrequited love.
She wasn’t there either.
Mind at a loss, she stood outside Kurosaki’s home, wishing just a little, that Inoue was ensconced there safe and warm against the night’s fading chill. It was a bitter revelation that she could feel the tell tale whiff of Orihime’s presence within Ichigo’s house. The bitterness deepened when she noticed that Ichigo had long sense deserted his home and taken that aura with him.
Forlorn, she returned to her home and her concerned parents, frightened at the strange behavior their daughter exuded. They were not keen to let her return to school for the day. They wanted to coddle her, keep her safe at home where she could rest and return to normal, but Tatsuki had a mission. She needed to make sure that Inoue was truly all right, that her senses were telling her lies.
And when she found out that Inoue was absent from school, that Ichigo had returned for the first time in a month, alone, she hit him. Hard. All her frustrations, anger, helplessness compacted into one powerful punch, and then she ran away, crying, because Ichigo knew where Inoue was and she didn’t. Inoue no longer needed her.
He did not understand why Inoue decided to say goodbye to him over everyone else. He could not understand why she felt she had to heal his wounds and sacrifice her life for the sake of all. He could only guess as to why she had been abducted and yet given a chance to come to his aid. He didn’t understand it, but he was grateful that for whatever reason, Aizen wanted to keep her alive.
If she was alive, then there was still a chance that she could be rescued. His face settled in determination as he stepped through the portals that Urahara opened in the cavernous room, two companions at his side. He did not like the fact that he was putting two friends at risk for the sake of one, but he couldn’t deny them the choice of facing that risk just like he couldn’t deny himself that choice.
It showed that Inoue was loved, that Inoue was valued. That made him hope that there was a chance for her after all. He just wished that those closest to her would speak up and actually show their feelings once in a while rather then continuously taking it out on him!
He flexed his jaw, feeling the bruised skin pull against the working tendons. One of these days, he was going to have to put Tatsuki in a head lock and force her to say the words she was to scared to say out loud. They were friends, but they couldn’t say the simplest words.
Ichigo looked askance at Ishida, inwardly laughing at the determined expression in his eyes as he explained just why he wasn’t going against his promise to stay away from shinigami in order to find Inoue. If ever a man needed a good prodding in the ass it was Ishida Uryuu. The man exuded pining emotions whenever Inoue was near, and Ichigo was dense most of the time. He could admit it; he was dense, but anyone could see from a mile away that Ishida felt something for their missing friend.
Well, everyone except Inoue, maybe.
Ichigo had to wonder, as they sprinted the last bit of distance to Hueco Mundo, just how much Inoue actually saw and how much she chose to ignore. It was Inoue after all, and she had healed him rather then say good bye to the two closest friends she had. Shaking his head, he turned his thoughts to finding her just so he could ask her why she was so frightened of keeping Ishida and Tatsuki by her side.
People were foolish, but they didn’t have to be as stupid as he was.
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oh, oh, I LOVE the ending! And so much story to chomp down on! And all my favorite relationships! Thank you so much! I'm so partial to canon references and eee, the background details here were so very nice. Why Ishida took up sewing!
If you tweak, send to me at shalombayit123@bellsouth.net and I'll beta it for you before you post on ff.net.
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I'll get to rewrites this weekend, and thanks for the offer to beta!
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Re-reading this and just wanted to say again how much I really like it and how much I appreciate it. It's a nice juicy story.