Pairing: Ishida/Orihime. Can be read as platonic.
No prompt.
"Ishida-kun--"
He stopped, looking back at her. "What is it, Inoue-san? We have to get moving..." He had a tense knot of worry already forming in the pit of his stomach.
"Ishida-kun, these robes are torn." She pointed to a small tear down the shoulder of her stolen shinigami garb. "I don't have needle or thread with me..."
"That's not a problem." He produced the requested items with a small, understated flourish.
"Oh! Thank you so much," she said, and she started to take them from him.
He carefully pushed her hands away without a word, threading the needle himself and then sending it whizzing through the motions to sew up the rip. The threads drew tight together and the seam slipped into invisibility. So did his worries, for just a moment. There was something about the way she looked at him that bound them up and hid them away.