ichihimeclub

Ichigo Kurosaki was in trouble, all right, and as he sat, trying to pay attention to what their teacher was saying, it became more and more apparent to him just how much so.  His eyes would start on the chalkboard in the front of class, occasionally glancing at his notebook in front of him as he thought about taking notes; but then they would drift to his left.  It was as though his gaze was naturally drawn to the auburn haired healer who sat just in front and to the left of him, close to the window.  As per usual, her gaze was fixed outside the window, her eyes glistening in the morning light.  Her face was relaxed and happy, thoughts that w

A/N: Normally my text is not done this way, but to avoid confusion, Ichigo/Hollow Ichigo conversations will be in bold. Orihime scarcely remembered getting home after Tatsuki dropped the bomb on her.  ‘Tonight,’ she’d said.  I have to ask Kurosaki-kun tonight?!  How am I supposed to do that?!  How am I going to ask him?!  Her mind was racing, thoughts and possibilities running through her mind carried by the little blue men and her own imagination.  It plagued her as she cleaned her new scrapes; and even as she stood with her back to the kitchen counter, the kettle on the stove to heat up some water for tea, her mind was el

A/N: I recently realized a mistake in season with the dance now being in February (joys of flying by the seat of your pants) so that has been addressed in previous chapters for those of you that may have noticed… Sorry! Ichigo was running late the next morning.  After leaving Orihime’s, he was barely home for twenty minutes, wolfing down his family’s leftover dinner, before the soul badge went off again.  This time he went out solo, which he found lonely for the first time ever, and was kept out for nearly two hours as hollow after hollow appeared.  By the time he got home, he could do little more than collapse into bed bef

Warm.  If Ichigo Kurosaki was asked to describe what it was like to be healed by Orihime Inoue in one word that is how he would describe it.  Warm, like being surrounded by an orange glow of comfort that lulls one into a sense of serenity and peace.  Warm, like being wrapped up in heavy blankets before a fireplace on a cold day.  Warm, like the first rays of sunshine touching your face in the morning.  Warm, like the comforting embrace of a hot bath on sore muscles.  Warm, like the flooding sense of heat and jitteriness that hits one’s stomach when around certain people… A blush darkened his cheeks at the last thought and he was

Orihime Inoue was in trouble.  Not the ‘Oh my gosh, I need help!  Someone please save me!’ kind of trouble, but the ‘Oh my gosh, what am I thinking?  What’s wrong with me?  Why can’t I get these thoughts out of my head?  Does anyone notice what I’m thinking?’ kind of trouble.  The kind of trouble that made her even clumsier than she already was and made her forget how to talk at times.  She found herself blushing more than ever before and she had to remind herself how to do simple every day things like breathe and walk without tripping over her own feet.  Her heart pounded and fluttered as though she

Rating T for language Orihime had indeed correctly interpreted Ichigo’s words, for when she pulled her door open to skip down the steps of her apartment, she found Ichigo making his way toward her apartment.  She caught the sight of his spiky orange hair out of the corner of her eye, but didn’t want to believe it as she focused on carefully locking her door, her hands suddenly trembling.  Oh my gosh, is he really here?!  When she turned, dropping her keys into her coat pocket, her face immediately broke into a smile when Ichigo looked up at her from the bottom of the steps. “Morning, Inoue,” he greeted her easily, li