Title: Oedipus Complex – Chapter Ten
Warnings: het (IchiHime, IsshinHime), May/December relationship
Spoilers: Through current chapters (419)

Disclaimer: These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who stuck this out with me! I finally finished a multi-chapter fic! Thank you again to Nocturne, who is awesome, and Star-chan, who is a wonderful friend! You guys rock!

After chasing his friends around the block for a good half hour, Ichigo finally volunteered to walk Orihime home. It really was the least he could do. As an added bonus, since she'd agreed to be his girlfriend, he could also snag some time alone with her before the night was over to talk about what had just happened.

As it turned out, Orihime actually hadn't brought much with her. She only had a duffle bag filled with her toiletries and a week's worth of clothes. Ichigo wound up carrying it for her; if he let her carry it by herself, he figured he'd look and feel like a complete tool.

"You packed pretty light," he finally said, broaching the topic. It was a neutral statement, one that hopefully wouldn't be too awkward for her to answer.

"Kurosaki-san told me to only bring enough for the week," she said softly, still obviously very ashamed about everything.

"I guess at the end of the week he'd have sent you back home, huh?" he responded, less a question and more a statement.

"Yeah," she affirmed, eyes downcast, "If you hadn't done anything." The last part was said so softly that Ichigo barely caught it.

"I don't think that was possible," he muttered, looking anywhere but at Orihime herself, "I would've gone nuts."

"I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun," Orihime whispered in return, "I didn't want to hurt you, but... your father said it was alright." Ichigo sighed and ruffled his hair. Orihime's continuing guilt over her involvement in Isshin's harebrained scheme struck Ichigo with a rather painful twinge. He knew exactly why his father had done it, and Orihime blaming herself simply wasn't fair.

"It's not your fault, Inoue," he said with a sigh, "And it's not his. It's mine." Orihime looked scandalized.

"B-But we lied to you the whole weekend," Orihime protested, "All of us did! That can't be your fault!" Ichigo's face pulled taut as he cast a grave look at her and stepped directly into her path so that she was forced to stop and look straight at him.

"No, it is my fault," he started again, "For the past three months, I've... I've been pushing you away and ignoring you on purpose. I knew you liked me, I was just too chickenshit to face up to it." He watched as Orihime's face lit up with mingled panic and pain.

"You... you knew?" she whispered, mortified, "Why didn't you say anything?" Now it was Ichigo's turn to look down and study his rather interesting shoes.

"You know what I am, Inoue," he reminded her with a grimace, "I thought you wouldn't want me and... that you deserved better. Someone that wouldn't hurt you. Someone that would always protect you. Someone that's... not a freak."

Ichigo felt a small, soft hand slide up the side of his face and cup his cheek. He looked up to see Orihime smiling softly at him.

"Kurosaki-kun," she breathed happily, "You've never hurt me intentionally and you've always protected me. And you're not a freak. You're the person I love, so you can't insult my tastes like that anymore. Okay?" Ichigo couldn't fight the smile that tickled his lips.

"Okay," he agreed, bending down and brushing her forehead with his lips, "But in exchange, you have to tell me how this all happened." Orihime looked up at him with a wide-eyed blush.

"Umm," she stammered, hesitant, "Kurosaki-san ran into me at the convenience store last Tuesday, and we got to talking and he asked me if I wanted his help in getting you to ask me out. I agreed a-and he told me his plan and I guess I just... went along with it."
Ichigo's brows knitted as he looked down at his new girlfriend.

"That's it?" he asked incredulously, "That's all it was? He didn't actually... do anything weird to you, did he?" Orihime looked confused.

"Well, he did want me to pose for a poster for him to put in the kitchen, but it sounded too racy..." she reasoned out loud, trying to jog her memory. Ichigo almost choked on his own spit.

"I-I didn't mean his weird obsession with Mom's poster!" Ichigo squawked, "I meant did he... you know... touch you funny or anything?" Orihime blushed at that question, finally gathering Ichigo's meaning. Even though it seemed like a really personal question, it had been bugging Ichigo ever since he'd found out the wedding was a hoax.

"N-No," Orihime stammered, much to Ichigo's relief, "Sleeping in his room was just for show. He actually slept in his office the whole time." Ichigo physically deflated as he exhaled, his relief visible.

"He said you'd be jealous," she added, causing Ichigo's eye to twitch. He wasn't even going to bother denying it this time.

"And the short nightshirt with no bottoms?" he growled, feeling a headache starting to form along his brow. He finally stepped aside and continued walking in the general direction of Orihime's apartment. As soon as he'd taken a few steps, she eagerly followed. She was also blushing profusely as she walked.

"Umm, that was h-his idea, too," she stuttered, "It wasn't for him, though. I-It was for you." Ichigo wanted to hit his head against something; of course that old pervert would have Orihime prance around half-naked just to tease him. That must have been what Karin thought was so funny about it.

At least his hollow seemed to appreciate the memory, if the stirring inside his head was any indication.

"I-I'm sorry i-if it upset you," she said quietly, looking away shyly. Did she think Ichigo could have possibly not liked that view? Oh, brother.

"It didn't upset me," he replied, also taking the opportunity to enjoy the suddenly interesting scenery as he scratched his cheek, "It was just kind of an overload, I guess... I'm not exactly used to half-dressed girls cooking my breakfast." Orihime allowed herself a small smile at that comment.

"Maybe you will be later?" she asked hopefully as Ichigo froze in a blush. And then: "Ah-! We're here!"

Before Ichigo could respond, though, she was already halfway up the stairs to her apartment. Ichigo hadn't even noticed they'd arrived.

"Thank you for walking me home, Kurosaki-kun," she said softly, leaning over the banister on the stairs to look at him. Ichigo gave her a crooked grin. At least he knew what to do with this situation.

"Don't mention it, Inoue," he said softly, leaning forward to push her overnight bag into her hands. Once she had a good hold of it, they were left only centimeters apart. He could even feel her gentle breath tickling his lips.

He moved forward ever-so-slightly, their lips meeting in a warm embrace. This kiss was different from the first. The first had been hurried and frantic, rushed as though Ichigo was afraid someone else would come by and snatch her out of his arms before his lips could lay claim to her. This kiss, however, was light and languid. He took his time feeling out the yielding contours of her lips, enjoying their softness and the way they practically melted when he nibbled at them or ran his tongue across the bottom one. It was like enjoying a rich dessert; he savored every tiny morsel. And the best part was, she was all his now.

Finally, after several minutes, they came up for air, two pairs of brown eyes heavily lidded behind thick lashes and deep blush. Ichigo allowed himself to break into a slow grin.

"I could get used to this," he murmured, casting another look at Orihime's perfect lips. He licked his own just in reflex as she smiled for him.

"I could too," she confessed, "Just not on my front step. The neighbor ladies will gossip." Ichigo couldn't contain his laughter at that.

"I'll give them something to gossip about if you don't get in that apartment," he play-threatened. Orihime took the hint and, after one more small peck, began to walk toward her door.

"Good night, Kurosaki-kun," she said softly, waving at him below. Ichigo responded with a wave of his own.

"See you tomorrow, Inoue," he said with a crooked grin.

As he walked away, bare hands in his windbreaker, Ichigo reflected on everything that had happened that night. It was amazing how just one week ago, he'd been so afraid of himself he couldn't even speak to Orihime. Now, they were not only dating but they'd even kissed. And he'd only had to endure one of the most bizarre, infuriating situations of his entire life so far.

As much as he wanted to be angry at his father and his friends - and make no mistake, he was mad at them - he knew they had his and Orihime's best interests at heart. He might be indignant now, but he knew he'd get over it.

After some well-placed revenge, anyway.

"Does this mean you'll listen to us more from now on?" his hollow spoke up, one of the rare times he'd heard from him outside of an emergency or a visit to his inner world.

'I guess I will,' Ichigo thought back at him, 'I guess you guys were right after all. He just wanted me to take responsibility for everything myself.' He could practically feel the smugness radiating off his hollow. It was like having the most annoying roommate ever inside his own head, he realized.

"Yeah, you can thank us later," the hollow thought back. Ichigo could barely muster a scowl for him now. He figured the hollow must also have had a soft spot for Orihime and had also grown frustrated with Ichigo's lack of resolve. That made sense - love was a battlefield, after all.

As Ichigo wound his way back home through the chilly February night, he figured the revenge and the beatings could wait a little while. Right now he felt too good to spoil the night with violence.

It was a sentiment that lasted all the way until he walked through his front door, where his father happily tackled him just like old times.