Disclaimer: I don't own bleach.

Supernova

By: Somerlia

Ichigo didn't have many crushes as a kid. His mind was always consumed with some thought or another, finding that girls just didn't have the capabilities of drawing his attention away from the very dark thoughts that had taken over after his mother's death.

Until he met her.

Really, it was before that, around the time he had met Rukia Kuchiki and thus got to know her better. Perhaps that was just the string of events that had pushed him into motion. Either way, it had started somewhere around there.

She was… he didn't even have words for her. Okay, maybe he did, but admitting them out loud was just a little embarrassing and he adamantly denied having any sort of feelings for her beyond the normal range of friendship.

But if he had to give a word to describe her, he'd have to say she was the sun.

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"Ohayo, Kurosaki-kun!" She called in her normal morning greetings. He didn't admit that those were one of the few things he looked forward to in the morning.

He lifted his hand, giving some half-assed attempt at a wave. "Morning, Inoue," he replied.

It was the same thing every morning. She would flash him a smile next and he'd attempt to lighten his scowl in return.

He wasn't sure he would change anything about it, except for maybe having her call him Ichigo.

That was still a work in progress though.

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Then she was smiling at him and he didn't think the sun was a suitable word for her, she needed something brighter, something bigger; something equivalent to the explosion he felt whenever she smiled.

Something that was so firmly Orihime Inoue that he would only need to say it and someone would get who he was talking about.

Or maybe not because he didn't want anyone thinking about Inoue in the way he did.

Still, it'd be nice to think of the correct word to describe her. What was it? It had been on the tip of his tongue and now it was gone.

Disappointment was obvious. He had been on the brink of an amazing discovery. Well, not amazing. But remarkable, for him.

She stepped up to his desk, the smile still playing on her lips, and held something out to him.

"Eh, what's this?" He questioned, eyeing the manga she held in her hands.

Unbothered by the unenthusiastic reaction from him, she merely smiled wider at him. "You were asking about it the other day – I offered to lend you my copy, remember?"

He scowled, not remembering this conversation, until he accepted the manga from her, glancing over the cover. The name jumped out at him and he couldn't hold back his chuckle then.

Now he remembered.

"The other has been translated to a couple weeks ago?" There was still a scowl on his face, but there must have been some expression of amusement on his face or she wouldn't have blushed and giggled awkwardly like that.

He didn't deny the enjoyable feeling in his stomach at having made her blush. He did make sure the expression stayed off his face though. There were a few people watching him and he'd never live it down if they heard.

"Oh yes, we should probably contact the dictionary people and let them know, eh?" She rubbed the back of her head, shifting on her feet.

He gave her a lopsided grin, tucking the manga into his bag, before nodding at her. "Thanks, Inoue. I'll give it back to you next Monday after work?"

"Heh heh, sure, Kurosaki-kun!" She chirped before turning to walk hurriedly back to her desk when Keigo, not even bothering to be quiet about it, erupted into wails about Orihime and Ichigo conversing happily alone like it was perfectly normal.

It was only when Keigo started making remarks about a subject not allowed to be discussed in school that Ichigo shot an evil glare at him. "Keigo, shut up," he deadpanned.

Keigo wailed louder about the cruelty of friend and Ichigo questioned whether or not the boy was somehow related to his dad. He even asked aloud before cutting himself off with a shudder. No, most definitely not. The idea that his dad was his dad was horrifying enough without imagining Keigo as some sort of uncle – or worse, brother. Keigo was a good friend, but not that good of a friend.

"ICHIGO, HOW COULD YOU HATE SUCH A THING?" Keigo screamed, running towards him and Ichigo calmly held up his fist, letting the boy run into it as he resigned himself to being careful with not thinking aloud next time.

Then there was a giggle and even though there were numerous people in the room laughing already at Keigo's antics, Ichigo only had eyes for the giggling-behind-her-hand auburn. She locked eyes with him and then turned a brilliant shade of red that reminded him of a stop light before turning away.

He liked to think the best adjective to describe was supernova.

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If anybody asked him how he ended up in this dangerous situation, he would say he didn't know. But, the truth of the matter was that he did.

His shinigami powers had long abandoned him – or, perhaps a better word for it was that he had abandoned them. Either way, he was without them and his normal abilities.

That didn't mean he was going to let his friends handle everything themselves. At worse case, he would help carry any of them back should they get injured and worse case he would leap in front of them so they wouldn't get hurt in the first place.

He hadn't really thought the second option was going to happen, but it hadn't been uttered falsely. He would jump in front of them if that ever happened, though he wasn't going to be weeping if it didn't.

Still, the day a hollow had erupted near the park while he was working, Ichigo hadn't stopped to consider anything. Especially when he saw a flash of auburn hair rushing through the crowd in that direction and instinct had overrode any rational thoughts he had – which weren't many as he was prone to being irrational.

He rushed after her, catching up quickly and still being late at the same time. She had already been there, starting to fight the hollow that he couldn't see much beyond a foggy outline.

Ichigo held back, he didn't rush in and sweep her off her feet and slay the hollow. He didn't have the power to do that and Inoue was far from a damsel in distress, he knew she was strong.

Then it had disappeared from her view and she had stared, blinking around confusedly and not noticing the blur shooting straight towards her unprotected back.

So he moved forward without thinking, crashing into her and rolling right out of the hollow's reach. He couldn't see whatever had hit him, but he could feel the pain radiating from his side as blood steadily stained the side of his shirt and dripped to the grass beneath him from the rip in his shirt.

"Kurosaki-kun!" She cried in surprise, staring up at him and he was surprised to find that he was hovering over her in the grass, his knee in between her two legs as she lay sprawled beneath him. He would be lying if he said the scene hadn't lit a fire in his stomach or that it hadn't become etched into his dreams.

There were more important matters to attend to, but what were they?

He found himself not remembering and he frowned down at her, wondering why he was above her in the first place. This couldn't have been some sort of dream was it? He'd had weird ones before, but never in public – and she was generally never this scared looking, her mouth never moving and speaking this rapidly. The sight of her face staring at him made his chest tighten, fear lighting up in his veins without even realizing it.

Then she was sitting up quickly, knocking him over and rolling until she was above him as something slammed into the ground where they had been in before. It sent up clumps of dirt and grass that he impatiently swatted away; content to let his imagination run a little rampant as she said over him, knees on either side of his hips.

"Kurosaki-kun, snap out of it!" Her voice sounded far away, but she was shaking him desperately. Why was she so desperate? What was he supposed to be snapping out of again?

She was off him in the next second, moving further from his vision until he would have had to turn his head to see her. He was too tired to do that though, he was too tired, he kind of just wanted to sleep for a little while – maybe it would get rid of the growing pain radiating in his side and shooting up every piece of his body.

There must have been a scuffle because she had fallen – he heard the thump of her hitting the ground, the flashing of her auburn hair when she rolled towards him a bit for only a second before she was leaping up again. Just what was going on?

He forced himself up. To hell with the pain, he had to figure out what was wrong with Inoue. He had seen the panic in her eyes even if it was there for only a moment – and he decided that he never wanted to see it again, never wanted to see the brightness in her eyes clouded by any emotion (except lust, but that's a different story he couldn't really think about right now).

Once he was up, he could inspect the area and was surprised that she was floating up in the air by her ankle, one hand pressed to her skirt to keep it from falling down. If he was normal, if he hadn't already experienced everything that he had, he would have found this terribly weird.

After all, people didn't just float in the air like that – let alone upside down.

Half a moment later there was an orange flash as she used her ability and blood appearing on her clothes. How had that happened?

Maybe the hollow.

He forced himself to his feet and then, once he was up, was faced with a tiny, little dilemma he hadn't considered before: what the hell was he supposed to do?

He could lob rocks at it, but there weren't any rocks around him. That one was out. Perhaps he could find a stick to hit it with?

There was the other problem of him barely being able to see it and the other of him barely being able to walk. It was taking all his strength to hold himself up, something he found incredibly pathetic because he had dealt with worse things before.

Something slammed into him and he rolled again, shooting in the opposite direction and he was aware that Inoue was shouting his name, obviously worried about him after that. He wanted to tell her he was fine and that she shouldn't worry about him, just finish it off, but, as he tilted his head up to inspect the situation, he noticed she was too busy trying to free herself, to get to him.

His head pounded and he winced, the blood in his head doing more harm than good. Though he supposed he'd be dead without it so he probably shouldn't complain much – he continued to do so anyway, grumbling about stupid rocks and the chances of him hitting a big one.

It struck him that he had found a rock and he cursed himself for jinxing it. He was hoping that something else would happen, that he'd magically find something to use that wasn't as pathetic as throwing a rock. However, he grabbed it anyway, holding it and weighing it in his hands before he aimed, throwing it at the hollow with as much strength as he could muster.

He was afraid he'd have to sweat drop for missing it completely or missing it by an inch, but he was lucky enough to have hit it somehow. That was the only way to explain how it made a noise and then bounced off as though hitting something invisible, blurry thing.

She dropped from the air – it must have let go, and he attempted to get to his feet again to-

To what? Catch her? He'd probably hurt both of them somehow doing that and by the time he could get up, she would have already hit the floor. Fear enveloped him suddenly and he pushed himself harder to get up, until he noticed that she was being cradled by her shield, no longer plummeting towards her death.

He sucked in a breath and then let it out, letting his forehead drop onto the cool grass.

"Kurosaki-kun?" A breathless voice asked before someone was kneeling next to him, rolling him onto his back with small, hesitate hands. "Can you hear me? Are you okay?"

She was going to work herself into a heart attack and she was fussing at him like a mother – or a lover. He pushed that thought away and urged himself to speak as words of gibberish spilled from her mouth and tears from her eyes.

"Inoue," he stated, surprised with how strained his voice sounded. He was tired and light headed and he supposed he should probably tell her that he hurt like hell, but she had smiled then: a small, relieved smile that tugged at his heart strings.

He didn't like seeing his supernova looking like that.

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Somehow, he woke up in a room that wasn't his own and was refreshed in a way he hadn't been before. He felt accomplished, like he had finished running a marathon, but that it was the day after and he was all rested up. He didn't even bother opening up his eyes, he was too comfortable to question how this happened.

"Kurosaki-kun?"

Those words seemed to be a recurring theme in his thoughts, but he was fairly certain his imagination wasn't creative enough to say those words so carefully, so perfectly. As though they had come from her lips rather his mind.

It helped fuel his determination for it not being a figment of his imagination when warm fingers brushed gently over his forehead, pushing orange strands out of his face. His eyes opened, blinking dazedly a few times before taking in the image: Inoue Orihime, leaning over him with sad eyes and a strained smile, hair messy around her heart shaped face and deep bags under her eyes.

He sat up immediately at the worrying image, making her gasp in surprise and take her hand away.

"Inoue, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Kurosaki-kun. I should be asking you that. How do you feel?"

"Uh… refreshed…" he admitted, rubbing the back of his head and glancing around. When his eyes had done a full sweep of the small room, stopping here and there to scan over the picture frames and muted, purple painted room, he stared guiltily at her a moment. He was in her room – and he felt oddly like he shouldn't be there.

She smiled at him kindly. "You slept a while; I'd be surprised if you weren't. But, I guess, considering what happened yesterday, you'd be pretty tired. That was a… a…. nasty wound," she hesitated, biting her lip. There wasn't a word to use to describe how it felt when she had found him, but fearful had definitely been an adjective for her emotions.

He, however, was focused on something else. "Wait, what, yesterday?" He demanded, throwing his legs out of bed and moving to stand up. Almost immediately he had to sit down again though, his legs having shaken dangerously. His face flushed.

He had almost passed out in front of her. How embarrassing.

"Stay down!" She was saying worriedly, pressing her hands down on his shoulders to keep him from getting up again. Not that he would have tried. He was sure he would have fallen over if he tried again and that was embarrassing to do at all, let alone in front of her.

"Okay, okay," he said, scowling. This was annoying nonetheless.

She hesitated, obviously unsure whether to believe him or not, and he lifted a hand, dropping it on hers hesitantly. Her skin was smooth and warm, a shock going through him at the contact, but he managed to keep his hand there anyway.

"I won't get up, Inoue," he stated, trying to look convincing. Why was it nobody believed him when he told the truth and didn't when he wasn't? Ichigo tried to change the subject. "What happened?"

"Well, you knocked me out of the way when the hollow came up from behind and then just sort of stared at me for a while," she said, her face heating up as the memories came back in a tumbling mess. His supernova was cute when she blushed.

Oh Kami, he hadn't just thought that, had he?

"And… and then what?" He urged on, fixing his collar and suddenly grateful she wasn't a mind reader. How would he have been able to explain that one to her?

She shuffled around a bit before telling the full story. About how the hollow had some sort of poison in its claws and that when he had taken the hit for her, he had gotten infected. It made him weak and drowsy as well as messing up his memory, though she only assumed as much with that from what she had noticed about him. After he had thrown the rock, she had killed the hollow.

"How'd you get me from the park to here?"

"Umm, well, I would have used my shield, but it was too public and you were bleeding. I healed you there and I was going to call Sado-kun, but there's something wrong with my phone and I couldn't find yours." Here she stopped, as though ashamed to admit she had patted him down in an attempt to find the small contraception that he had, actually, left at work.

He hid a chuckle at her expression, but instead gave her a kind of encouraging nod.

"Well, anyway, I healed you and then I… carried you here. I would have taken you home, but your house was much farther than mine and uphill," she pouted, giving her head a small shake that sent auburn hair flying around her face. He staring at the strands, his hand moving automatically to grab a few of them without realizing it, just liking the feel of the few tresses he had managed to get.

He didn't realize anything until she was staring at him, her face a deeper shade of red than before, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, letting the hairs fall back into place over her breasts, which he was extra careful not to stare at. "How'd you carry me home?"

"On my back," she stated in a deadpan. "Until we got to the stairs, it was private enough that I could use that to get you up. Would you like some tea? We can move into the living room since this is…" She didn't finish nor did she have to.

He understood well enough. This was incredibly awkward in her room. He was sitting in her bed with her on the edge after all – his imagination was going to run crazy the next time he was in his own bed at home.

"Uh… sure…" he said, shaking his head free of his thoughts and shifting to his feet carefully. She watched him warily, hands up as though ready to grab him should he fall over.

But he was strong enough this time. He could keep his balance and take short steps until he gathered himself completely – he just had to restart his legs after all.

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He didn't want to leave, but an awkward glance at the clock proved that he had been away from home too long. There was also the question of how he was supposed to explain where he had been the past couple of days.

He scowled at the thought of saying he was at Orihime's, knowing the conclusion his father would jump to, but what else could he say?

Of course, just glancing at her, he could see she was shifting and opening her mouth to say something. He tilted his body to face her, but there was no need, he had already, without realizing it, inclined so as to be looking at her – and all he had to do was weight.

"Kurosaki-kun," she repeated then hesitated. What he wouldn't give for her to call him Ichigo.

But he answered her nonetheless with the same repetitive response, "Inoue."

She crinkled her nose in thought and then, smiling at him softly with just a hint of a blush on her cheeks, said, "Umm… well… Oh, I spoke with Yuzu-chan and told her you fell asleep while we were doing homework so you don't have to worry about them worrying for your disappearing act. Though I can't say the same for work because I don't think either excuse would work-"Her lip twitched here, probably from saying work twice in the same sentence.

Cute stuttering aside, his attention was caught. "How'd you know I came from work?"

"Your uniform," she indicated to his clothes, which he glanced down in to realize were the same black denim pants and dark blue polo that everyone else at his work wore.

"Oh."

She giggled and he stared, blinking slowly at the sound. He liked it when she laughed, but, like everything else that involved his feelings regarding her, he ignored it.

Or tried to at least, until she caught her lip between her teeth again, and he had a sharp intake of breathe that made her stare at him with a mixture of confusion and worry. He was already stepping up though, closer to her than he had ever been.

She seemed frozen, but he wasn't thinking about that. His hands had already cupped her cheeks and, without thinking about it, without considering the consequences his actions could bring, he kissed her.

It was short and gentle, just a chaste brush of his lips over hers before he pulled back abruptly, shocked both from the electricity that had shot through his lips at it and what he had just done.

He'd kissed her.

He'd kissed Inoue.

Shit.

Her eyes opened slowly, agonizingly slow as he waited to see what her reaction would be. He felt himself shifting on his feet, considering making a break for it now before she could perhaps slap him.

Not that she would. He knew Inoue enough that she'd not hit him. Maybe turned a brilliant shade of magenta and ask him quietly to leave.

He didn't mind the first part, but the second part was a little worse. Even if he had been on his way of leaving, this felt different – if she ordered him to leave, he would, but he didn't want to.

He wanted to leave because of outside engagements to get to, not because she wanted him to get lost. The first option was a little more bearable than the second.

So, as he mentally prepared himself for whatever she would say, he was caught off guard when she was suddenly holding his face and pulling him down towards her.

For an awful moment he thought she was going to head butt him, but then he felt the lightest of brushes against his lips and his hands, already on her waist to steady them both from her surprise move, tightened.

This kiss was different, he decided as he returned it, tilting his head down more to reach her mouth better. There was something different about it compared to the last one, but he couldn't figure out what it was.

Then there were her arms wrapping around his neck, playing with his hair, and he found he couldn't think of whatever was wrong (or right) with it as one hand slid up her back until it was holding her head, tilting it for better access to her lips.

It was addictive. Her lips were soft and warm as they brushed against his, sending shivers down his spine that hadn't happened the first time.

He was hyperaware of everything she was doing, from when she shifted slightly, to the small gasp she had as his tongue ran along her bottom lip.

Heat was pooling in his stomach even when he broke apart from her for air only to return to her lips a moment later. The feeling was increasing until his entire body was warm and he was pulling her closer, kissing the sigh of "Kurosaki-kun" that escaped her lips.

The strawberry and the supernova, burning brightly and forever, was an appealing option.

He was right, he didn't like her.

He was pretty sure he loved her.

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It would be only later when he realized the difference was she had kissed him - and that had to count for something.

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Fin

A/N: So rather than writing the next chapter to returning, I wrote this instead. Honestly, I'm trying to fix up my writing skills. I feel almost embarrassed with my stories lately - like I'm telling rather than showing - so I had to do a one-shot where they kissed. Practice makes perfect right? I don't want to let anyone down when it comes for future kiss scenes in my stories.

Can't explain where this came from, I was just writing nonsense gibberish in an attempt to write a drabble and then this happened.

Can't say I'm disappointed either - I like it.

Read & Review Please!