Chapter Text
It was hard to sleep for Orihime. The plushness of her futon usually cradled her so well, but in recent days, not even that would ease her conscious.
"I'm sorry, Orihime," Uryu muttered one golden afternoon. "I don't think we should see each other anymore."
His words hit her like a truck. It started ever since he began working in the hospital. He was constantly kept busy. Anytime they would plan a nice date, or even something as simple as having lunch together during his break, he was called to be somewhere else. Slowly, the time they spent together grew less and less each day.
She supposes that's just how a doctor's schedule was. He didn't even want to be a doctor in the first place, but she remembered he told her that deep inside, he knew it was something he had to do. Little did he know that he'd be a little too good at his job. But she didn't mind. In fact, she admired it. She knew Uryu was a kind, caring man albeit reserved. He's always been that way since high school.
However, despite their increasing distance apart, she still put in the effort of at least packing lunches for him. She made them cute too, in hopes to bring a smile to his face. In the beginning, he would show how much he appreciated her by leaving little post-it notes on her mirror, telling her how beautiful she looked, or stealing a kiss or two when she wasn't paying attention. The little things, but big things for her.
But she didn't expect them to break up. Not when they were almost a year in.
Now here she was, crying herself to sleep for the passed week. Or was it two? She couldn't remember, she wasn't keeping track. The futon they once shared during his sleepovers was now ice cold, no matter how much she bundled herself up.
"Maybe I should call someone...," she muttered to herself.
But who would be awake at this hour?
It was almost midnight when she checked her phone. She scrolled through her contacts to see if there was anyone she could talk to. Fortunately, her boss at the bakery had noticed how depressed she's been, and so the older woman just told her to rest until she felt better. Even when Orihime hesitated, the lady insisted. Such a kind woman, who looked at her like she was her daughter.
"Besides, this bakery is small," the woman chuckled. "Haven't had a full house in years. Take all the time you need, dear."
As she scrolled, she realized that she didn't really have a big circle of friends. Not that she needed one.
Should she just call Tatsuki?
"No...," she sighed and kept scrolling. "She's been so busy with the dojo ever since her boss went on vacation..."
Maybe Rukia...
Wait, no. Orihime shook her head. Rukia had just given birth to her daughter. She'd feel horrible for springing her issues onto both her and Renji.
Chad was overseas for a boxing match so he definitely wouldn't be available, either.
Then she saw one name and her heart skipped.
Ichigo.
Ichigo was lounging in his room with a manga in hand, one he had been meaning to read but constantly had pushed to the side. It was a shonen about some blonde ninja dude.
Realistically, he'd been busy, too. It seems adult life kept everyone busy, but it was to be expected. Though compared to everyone else, he had it easy. His job had to cut his hours due to the company he worked for not meeting sales quota, so he had more time on his hands than he cared to admit.
He hadn't seen much of his friends since they all started working. He actually thought about visiting the bakery that Orihime worked in since he had yet to try their pastries, but he hasn't really been keeping up with her lately.
But that was on purpose.
When Uryu had told him that he was dating Orihime, he felt an inexplainable burning sensation in his chest. Every time he caught a glimpse of Orihime holding his hand, that sensation grew more intense. And every single time he'd come back home and was alone in his room, he found himself feeling... Weak.
He couldn't explain it then, and he still couldn't explain it now. All he knew was that after finding out, he found himself thinking about Orihime more than usual. And every time he would remember her smile, how bright it was, the more sore he felt.
And the more he wanted to see her.
"Maybe I'm coming down with something," he originally thought.
It was worse at night. Far worse.
Sometimes, in the middle of the night, he'd imagine Orihime giggling at something she saw on the internet. The sound of her laughter like music to his ears. Then somehow, he'd remember her scent. Floral, sometimes fruity, like she always smelled of desserts.
Then other nights were even more difficult. He'd catch himself thinking about something else, like how anything she wore framed her figure so well. Or how most of the shirts she had worn hugged her chest a little too tightly.
Then he pictured how her bosom would look in a sheer white shirt that had been soaked in the rain. Her pale skin seeping through the fabric and revealing her lilac bra. Then, how she would looked sprawled out on his bed underneath him. Then how her cheeks would flare up when he-
Shit. He almost had those thoughts again. Ichigo's cheeks were burning red like he had a fever. He wanted to slap himself for thinking of his friend in such a way.
His friend. That was taken.
So when he peeked at his phone and saw a certain auburn-haired girl calling, his hands started trembling.
Why the hell was he so shaky?
"O-Orihime?" He stuttered. He stuttered like an idiot.
"I...," she sniffed from the other line. "I'm sorry, I know it's late..."
Immediately, Ichigo sat up. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"
"N-No...," she sniffed again, though this time she sounded like she was starting to cry. "I just.. couldn't sleep, is all."
Something was definitely wrong, but she wouldn't tell him easily. He knew her better than that.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Orihime didn't respond, but he could hear her as clear as day. She was trying so hard not to cry over the phone.
There was a pause before Ichigo would speak up again. "Do you want me to come over?"
She sniffed through her tears. "Please...," she whispered, quiet but loud enough for him to still hear.
Not even half an hour later and there was already a knock on her door. Orihime jolted, not expecting him to be so fast. She wiped her eyes and slowly stood up, turning on the light before she opened her door. And there he was, that orange-haired man she knew all too well, leaning over the doorstep while panting and sweating.
Did he really run all the way over here?
"O-Orihime...," he muttered and stood up straight, then closed the door behind him. "What's wrong?"
She couldn't hold it in anymore. Something about his presence made whatever composure she managed to gather before he arrived break. She started sobbing, falling to her knees and Ichigo caught her in a perfect reflex. He held her close to his chest, feeling her tears stain his shirt, but he didn't care.
"Uryu did what?" Ichigo grit his teeth. They were on the couch now, where he had bundled her up in her pastel green blanket. "That asshole."
"I-I should've figured since he's been working so much," Orihime sniffed and grabbed a tissue from the box next to her. "B-But... he was distancing himself before he ended things. And he seemed cold about it, too. I don't..."
She looked down, tears brimming her eyes once again.
"I don't know what I did wrong..."
Ichigo frowned. He hated seeing her so sad. And to think that Uryu, the guy who said he'd make her happy, was the same guy who was responsible for making her cry.
He seethed. His hands were itching to knock some sense into him.
"You did nothing wrong, Orihime," he responded with a soft smile. "That jerk just didn't know what he had."
Orihime blew her nose into the napkin she had and tossed it into the wastebasket next to her, courtesy of Ichigo bringing it closer.
"Do you mind if I ask when this happened?" Ichigo turned to her.
"Umm... I think...," she looked down, trying to remember. "I think it was on the tenth. I can't remember. It wasn't long after he had gotten his promotion."
Ichigo furrowed his brows. "Are you saying you've been like this for almost a month?"
Orihime paused. Has it really been that long? She was still under the impression that it's just been a week.
"And that asshole didn't even bother to check up on you?!" Ichigo looked mad. Really mad. "When I get my hands on him-"
"I-Ichigo, you don't need to do that!" She reached for the end of his shirt, tugging gently. "It's okay... Really..."
The orange haired man sighed deeply and sat next to her again.
"No, it's not okay," he answered, softly. "You've been crying so much that your trash can is filled with nothing but tissue. And I could tell you haven't been sleeping well, either."
Orihime looked down, her amber gaze not meeting his. She should've known she couldn't hide anything from him.
She loved Uryu. That much was obvious. She wouldn't be crying this much if she didn't. But with Ichigo, it was a whole different story.
She had been in love with Ichigo for years, since they were twelve, but he would never look her way. She couldn't blame him for anything, though. She thought that all Ichigo saw in her was that she was a really good friend, but nothing more. And so, she tried everything to make herself fall out of love with him. Anything to distract her head from thinking about someone she could never have.
Baking became her scapegoat. The more she baked, the more she didn't have to think about him. Then right after high school, Uryu confessed his feelings. And suddenly, Ichigo wasn't the center of her thoughts anymore.
Each day spent with the raven-haired man was like a dream. Now it was Uryu who she saw a future with.
Things were perfect.
Not as perfect as she thought, though.
The feelings she had buried deep within her heart had a funny way of showing that they never truly left. How even as her heart was still breaking for someone she had thought she would marry one day, the man in front of her still somehow made her heart skip a beat.
Ichigo and Orihime sat quietly next to each other on the couch. There was a silence in the air, a comfortable one. Even if she's a total wreck right now, one thing she knew was for certain: No matter the circumstance, his presence was comforting.
Then Ichigo said something she wasn't expecting.
"Are you free tomorrow?"
Orihime turned to Ichigo, completely caught by surprise. Ichigo then realized how he must've sounded and mentally cursed himself.
"I-It's just," he began, scratching the back of his neck. "I don't want you to stay like this, Orihime. So I figured maybe we could do something tomorrow. You know, to brighten up your day."
Way to go, Ichigo. You still sound like an idiot, he thought to himself.
She blinked. Her gaze shifted to look at her nearly empty box of tissues, then to the full trash can he had pointed out. She doesn't know if she has the energy to go out anywhere, but maybe this could help her feel better if she just forced herself to go outside. Maybe it could help her move on.
She couldn't help but notice the irony. She had tried so hard to get over someone she loved for a long time, and now she has to try hard to get over someone else.
It seems she just has bad luck with love.
She sighed, returning her gaze up to him.
"Okay," she answered quietly. "That would be nice."