The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows

A/N: So I felt like writing a new IchiHime fanfic while revamping my story Good to You. Yes, this story is loosely based on the song by Brand New: The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows. It was a favorite song of mine in college. God... I feel old now, if none of you remember that song!

Chapter 1:

Wasted Words

We kept it safe and slow

The quiet things that no one ever knows...

~0~

Standing in his dorm, the orange haired man ran his long fingers through his spikey hair. He let out a deep sigh, looking out the window. It was snowing. Wonderful, just what I need today, Ichigo Kurosaki thought bitterly.

Grabbing his coat and book bag, he opened the door to run off to his first class. The co-ed dorms were interesting, to say the least. Ichigo would ignore the flirtatious women that casted glances his way and giggled around him. He had no interest in those types of girls. At the moment, if he was honest with himself, he only had his mind set on one woman.

Orihime Inoue.

She was his close friend from high school, and since their senior year, he had fallen deeply, madly in love with her.

They had chosen to go to the same college in Karakura. Well rather, Ichigo had decided to stay close to Orihime to keep an eye on her. She always needed protection, in his eyes. Ever since she was taken to Hueco Mundo, Ichigo had felt a fierce need to watch over her. His feelings began for her then, though he didn't want to acknowledge them at the time.

It seemed complicated. The woman was too kind, too sweet and too angelic for a foul-mouthed bastard like him. There was no way she felt anything towards him, right? If he did tell her, they would only be wasted words.

~0~

Orihime looked at herself in the full length mirror and smoothed out her slightly wrinkled sweater. She narrowed her stormy-grey eyes a bit, examining her reflection before sighing. As usual, she thought, this is as good as it's going to get.

She was annoyed with herself, mostly because she let a wool sweater get wrinkled, but also because she had class with Ichigo today. And he'd have to see her... like this. She threw her hands up in frustration, looking down at her form-fitting, boot-cut jeans and small, sock covered feet. When had she become so critical of her appearance? Orihime caught her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it thoughtfully. The answer was obvious. Since her first year of college.

Oh yes, it was very clear. So apparent when she entered the co-ed dorms and saw Ichigo being fawned over by drooling girls. His scowl had been more present than ever before as the young women giggled and gushed to each other about how hot he was. Orihime stood there and listened to every hushed female voice talk about how they were going to land him as a date or boyfriend or husband... whatever. A blush had crept onto her cheeks, and she felt defeated at the same time. Ichigo had never shown the slightest interest in her. Oh sure, he was very protective of her, like a valiant knight protecting a damsel. He'd saved her numerous times, gone to hell and back just to rescue her, even came back from the dead...

Still, she didn't know for sure how he felt. He couldn't possibly feel the same way she did, right? After all, she had been hopelessly lost in love with him since she was in her mid-teens. She watched him protect and save many of their friends. How was she any different to him?

Many times, she was told by Tatsuki that Ichigo was a 'brainless idiot that was blind and oblivious to not notice' Orihime. It was her best friend's way of comforting and mollifying her when she doubted herself. She missed Tatsuki right now, more than ever. Orihime grabbed her backpack and pulled on her boots, mustering a cheery smile before opening the door and grabbing her down jacket. It was snowing, and she'd be late for class if she prattled on any longer about first year, Ichigo or her best friend.

Slinging the strap of her bag over her shoulder gently, she fished into the pocket of it first to get her keys and lock her dorm room. Thank goodness for grants and scholarships. She wouldn't be in college without it. Hearing the click of the lock, she pulled the keyring out of the door and placed it back in the pocket.

As she turned and began to step away from the door, she ran into a hard, warm wall. Orihime gasp, her fingers clenching against the 'wall' as she began to wonder where that came from before she felt the undeniable muscles beneath. A deep chuckle rumbled from what was now apparent to her as a chest of a man and she let out a squeak of surprise before looking up. Deep brown, amber flecked eyes that usually were more narrowed, watched her with some kind of amusement.

"Sorry, Orihime." Ichigo said in a deep baritone. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's alright, Ichigo." She breathed. "I wasn't watching where I was going... sorry."

Ichigo shook his head, smirking slightly. The usual scowl that lined his brows and mouth seemed to have disappeared as Orihime watched him with her large, grey eyes. She blinked as she felt the weight on her shoulder get lighter. Ichigo chuckled again at her curious glance. "We'll be late. I'll carry your books... try to keep up."

Orihime let out a soft giggle, stepping along side of the man who was the object of her affections. At times like this, she could invision herself as his girlfriend, walking side by side to class, occasionally linking hands, kissing before...

She shook her head violently all of a sudden to purge those thoughts from her mind. No, Orihime! Not now! She thought to herself. They crossed the campus in the falling snow, dragonsbreath lifting with every exhale from the pair's lips as they walked at a steady pace. Ichigo stole glances down at the auburn woman beside him. Her eyes seemed to have glazed over in a daydream... or something... while they walked. A frown pulled at his lips. If she didn't start paying attention soon, she was likely to trip. Ichigo's protective nature reared its head and he spoke up.

"Orihime? Earth to Orihime."

"Eh?" She blinked, looking up at Ichigo. His breath caught in the back of his throat as she graced him with her beautiful smile. This smile, one he liked to think she saved only for him, made his insides warm. Shit, he was getting hot under his jacket when it had to be fucking ten below zero outside.

His face flushed a bit, "Daydreaming again?" He uttered that quietly.

It was Orihime's turn to blush. "Mm, a little. Well, I was just thinking about the homework we had to do in English Literature last night and nearly lost my train of thought about it and then those pesky blue men may come and steal my papers and-..."

Ichigo shook his head. Same ol' Orihime. While he was distracted by his own thoughts, he heard a sudden squeak from the woman beside him, only to see her slipping on ice. Ichigo quickly caught her, before sliding on the non-salted walkway that led up to the entrance of their class. He fell flat on his ass, with Orihime... straddling his waist. Some how the woman's large chest had landed on his face, practically smothering him.

Around them, a roar of laughter errupted. Sniggering from other classmates and cat-calls and whistles filled the area. Orihime wanted to crawl under a rock, Ichigo... well all he could do was pray that the blood that heated his face didn't try to wander southwards.

Orihime's face was a deep crimson as she tried to hide behind the long red bangs that framed her delicate face. A muffled voice came from under her bosom, confusing her for a moment before she knew who it was. She squeaked again, jumping back to reveal a flushed faced Ichigo, gasping for air.

A crowd had formed around them, laughing and pointing at the misfortune of the two. Once he regained his breath, a dark scowl formed on his face and he glared at the group around him and Orihime. The laughter stopped, hands dropped and people moved away from the pair in either fear or unamusement.

Orihime began to stand, a bit wobbly on her own two feet. She slipped again, falling back on the snow covered grass, now. Ichigo sighed softly, shaking his head and got up to help Orihime.

Once he had a firm grip around her wrist, he helped her stand, cautiously walking with her into the classroom. As they entered the room, laughter began to errupt again. Ichigo's glare and scowl grew darker as he put down Orihime's backpack on a table that lined every theater-style seat in the auditorium. He turned to face Orihime, who had yet to sit down.

"What is it?" He asked, his featurely softening as tunnel-vision took over while he watched her.

"I-ichigo..."

"Hmm?" He tilted his head slightly, regarding her.

"Feel a draft, buddy?" Came a laughing male voice beside him.

Ichigo turned to shout at the guy who had no name that he could remember at the time.

Orihime's lovely features were still a dusky shade of deep pink.

And then Ichigo felt cold air hit his backside. Fucking hell!

He had split his pants...