Title: Chasing Paper Tigers Like Dreams

Warnings: Language, mild angst.

Rating: T for now. M later.

Authorial Notice:

Just a little something I'd been posting over at Tumblr. Thought I'd finish it all before I started posting, but alas, I really need some motivation ^_^ So here's the first chapter.

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Orihime tried her hardest to stay out of his line of sight, she did, but it just didn't seem to matter. Trouble had locked on to her scent, and it was running her down like a dog cornering a cat up a tree.

She fought the urge to despair when the new part-time manager gazed across the busy employees, sifting through female after female.

It couldn't have been so difficult to pick her out. After all, she had all that bright, unusual colored hair. Even pulled back into a sloppy bun, it was easily distinguishable, and her curvy form didn't exactly fit in among her straighter, sleeker co-workers. Still, his eyes lingered down every form before settling on hers.

From across the table, Tenki-chan cast her a sympathetic glance before grabbing up the tray of dough she'd been forming and hurrying away.

Orihime took a deep breath and resigned herself to her fate, looking up to acknowledge her new boss, Ijimekko.

"Out of uniform again, Inoue-chan?"

He smiled, but his eyes dropped somewhere below her chin.

Orihime tried to determine what it was about this man that disturbed her. He was nice enough. Friendly. Intelligent. Maybe even somewhat attractive, with perfect, dark hair and eyes to match. So why did he strike her in such an uneasy way?

She resisted the urge to step back from his too close proximity and instead watched in wide-eyed fascination as his nostrils flared, making his once-broken nose seem a bit crooked.

Then his words registered.

Blinking, Orihime shook her head and looked down at the two unclasped buttons of her collar.

Could that be what he meant?

It didn't seem inappropriate. The store was so hot when the ovens were on, and even from her overhead vantage, she could hardly see the tops of her embarrassingly large breasts. There was no way he could, regardless of his tendency to tower over the employees of the bakery.

Orihime frowned, wrinkling her nose in thought. Her sleeves were rolled up, but that was necessary to keep them out of the food. That couldn't be the problem.

He laughed.

"I'm just teasing you. Those outdated, old hag shirts could stand to loosen up a bit, right?" Ijimekko winked and gave her a tap on the forearm, leaning a bit closer. "You can undo a few more if you want. It'll be our secret."

She swallowed, nodding just to get distance, and then she kicked herself for the thoughtless gesture.

But he did straighten, stepping out of her space, a smile lingering on his mouth and something else slithering behind his eyes.

Heads whipped around to their tasks and the silent kitchen buzzed back into activity when he turned around, walking toward the small office in the rear of the building.

Orihime released her breath.

"Oh, I can't believe that guy!" Tenki hissed into her ear. "He thinks he can walk all over us just because his daddy's the owner. What a spoiled brat. He doesn't even do any of the work."

Hmm?

Orihime tilted her head.

Brat? He could hardly be called that. Ijimekko had to be close to thirty.

Orihime turned and smiled at the smaller girl that reminded her so much of Chizuru. A much less grabby Chizuru, and the thought made her smile widen. "He's new here, Tenki-chan, just give him some time to adjust. I bet things get straightened out, yeah?"

But they didn't.

Orihime stiffened as, once again, his hand lingered on her shoulder.

It couldn't be necessary to explain how to wipe the front tables. She'd done it so many times and it wasn't even a difficult thing. Still, he placed his large, heavy hand over hers and used it to guide her motions, wiping the table in slow circles.

Deep under her skin, something twitched and rebelled.

Orihime pulled free of his grasp and took a large step back.

"I'm sorry, manager-san. I think I can do it right this time." She gave a small bow. "Thank you for the instruction."

He tilted his head.

"You're always so formal. What does it take to get you to relax?" He smiled. "I've asked you to call me by name several times."

Orihime dropped her gaze.

"I'm sorry, but you are my boss, after all. I… I don't feel comfortable being so familiar."

She tried to smile, but it froze on her face when she looked up.

"I see." His gaze was sharper than she had seen it, but the next moment his eyes crinkled much the way his father's did. "Well, I guess we'll just have to help you rethink that." He stood to his full height. "You know, this job might be too complicated for you. Go get a broom and sweep the snow off the front walk. We can't have our customers slipping, can we?"

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Ichigo huddled down into his fur-trimmed jacket, cursing when the bitter wind snapped at his exposed skin anyway. God, he hated this weather.

Too damn cold.

Well, this was his reward for trying to spend a little time back home instead of holing up in his apartment. His ears were freezing and his cold toes ached like he'd just stubbed every single fucking one. And why his stupid old man wasn't the one out here getting his ass frostbitten off instead was little more than a blur of systematic and manipulative arguments Ichigo had struggled to process before finding himself on his family's snowy doorstep with a too thin coat being lobbed at his head.

He huffed, his breath turning into a curling, white cloud he scowled as he passed through.

That wasn't true.

He knew the reason he was making this trip, and it wasn't for his family or the food or any argument thereof.

He just needed to know she was okay.

Between the college workload and his work workload, spending time with friends seemed more of a much-longed-for dream than reality. They were lucky to get once a month together since Uryu had jaunted off to some fancy college for brain surgeons in Tokyo. Although, Ichigo suspected there were other reasons for his bat out of hell escape from the nest. Daddy issues.

He shook his head.

Because he had room to talk.

His dad was a fucking piece of work. He knew Ichigo wouldn't say no to going to the bakery if it meant a chance to check up on Inoue. No matter how damn cold it was.

His brow furrowed and his hands tightened in his pockets.

She was the only member of their group he couldn't find a good excuse to see on a regular basis— at least not without seeming like some weirdo stalker— and the only one that could actually use some watching over. How messed up was that? He'd been a god-awful friend the past year since his internship started. He needed to make up for it.

Coming around the corner of the shop, Ichigo faltered when he was confronted with the object of his thoughts.

"Inoue..."

Orihime squeaked and stumbled back, clutching her broom as if she might whack him with it before realizing who it was and nearly dropping it.

He scratched his head. "Hey."

"K-Kurosaki-kun! What are you doing here?"

Something jolted inside his chest, same as always, and he was floored by the sight of her.

Like grabbing a hot wire. Adrenaline flooded into his blood, carried by his thumping heart and the cold dissipated from tingling limbs.

Bright, honey-colored eyes shone with warm light, wide with surprise and open interest. Her lips were still parted in a silent gasp and tendrils of auburn hair fell in picture-perfect disarray around her face. And she so contrasted the white of snow and muted city tones around them, she might as well have stumbled out of a different plane of existence.

She still had this effect on him after so many years. Why, he couldn't fathom, but it'd been that way since the first time he saw her standing in his doorway, carrying her bleeding brother.

Ichigo let his eyes travel the rest of her, confirming that she was both unhurt and in good health. His shoulders relaxed.

Although…

She sure as hell wasn't going to stay that way in this weather. Her cheeks were wind-burned, and she was rubbing her now empty and slightly blue hands together, shaking.

"Inoue, where's your damn coat? It's below freezing."

"Um…" She rubbed her arms, looking embarrassed. "It's not part of my uniform…"

He was already shrugging out of his own coat, pausing at her words before tugging it the rest of the way off and holding it out to her. "What the hell kind of rule is that? They can't make you go out in this kind of weather without even a jacket, Inoue. It's not legal."

Orihime didn't argue with him as he expected. That told him more about the state she was in than anything.

Her fingers shook as she fumbled trying to get them through the sleeves.

He cursed again and took her arm, pulling her freezing hand out, fighting the irritated words threatening to spill out. Looking over through the store window, he saw a tall man issuing orders to a girl that seemed ready to break into tears. Really? That's so much more important than noticing Inoue was about to catch hypothermia?

"Who is that?"

Glancing over, Orihime stiffened before moving to retrieve her broom so she could begin sweeping again. "The new manager, Ijimekko-san. He graduated a few years ago and is taking over while Owner-san is sick."

She forced the words past chattering teeth and that just pissed him the hell off. He didn't care who the prick was, he was fixing to get a piece of Ichigo's goddamn mind. Maybe his foot.

He pulled the broom from Inoue's slack grip and pointed toward the store. "You're the one who's going to get sick, you need to go inside."

"But I can't! I have to sweep the snow so that the customers don't fall."

She attempted to grab back the handle.

Holding it out of Inoue's frantic reach, Ichigo stared at her, and realizing she wasn't lucid, he forced himself to speak evenly.

"Inoue, it's snowing. There will always be snow on the ground, and when it stops, the wind will blow it away because it's below fucking freezing. This is ridiculous." Then something occurred to him and his eyes narrowed. "How long have you been out here?"

Beside them, the doorbell chimed and his head snapped to the side.

"Inoue-chan, what's this?" The man from before stepped out of the store. "You know we don't allow socializing on the job, and once again, you're out of uniform." He inspected the coat then Ichigo with the same curl of his lip he might have given something stuck in the bottom of a trashcan. "Go back inside. We only exhibit the goods inside the shop, not on the street corner."

Ichigo went still.

It took about two heartbeats to comprehend the situation and far less to slam a clenched fist straight into the slimy prick's misshapen nose.

It was a solid hit. Blunt. Soothing his rapidly fraying temper.

The punch lifted the man off his feet and sent him careening backward. Leather dress shoes scraped the ground before gravity caught and his back hit the concrete, sprawling him out across the snow-covered ground, choking and sputtering as the air was forced from his lungs.

Ichigo straightened.

"Manager-san!" Orihime hesitated, looking back at Ichigo and biting her lip. "Kurosaki-kun?"

"Get your things."

He didn't let anything show on his face. Not the contempt he felt for the lowlife clutching his bleeding face. Not the frustration of wondering how long it had been going on. And definitely not the rage clawing its way up, screaming at him to keep hitting the stupid fuck until he stopped making noise.

Ijimekko pushed himself up, spitting out a mouthful of blood and ignoring what fell onto his white shirt. "Yeah, you can get your things. You're fired."

Orihime stopped in her tracks.

"What…?" She turned over her shoulder then shook her head, eyes wide. "But, but I need this job…"

"Then I guess you should have thought about that before your boyfriend here started throwing punches."

Ichigo grit his teeth.

Damn it… He hadn't meant to get her fired, but he couldn't stomach her begging to this creep.

"But—"

"Inoue."

She stopped, eyes shining with moisture as they turned back to meet his. Then she bit her lip, gaze falling to the ground as she hurried to get her things.

Ichigo didn't move. He just stared the man down, fists clenching, knowing that if the bastard so much as took a step forward, he wouldn't be responsible for his actions.

Orihime came out the next minute, her own coat on and clutching his to her chest.

Not that he needed it. His anger was keeping him warm, and if he needed some physical exertion, he knew where to find it.

She stopped beside him, lifted a hand, not quite touching.

"Kurosaki-kun?"

He only hesitated a moment before tearing his eyes off the bleeding man and taking her outstretched arm, leading her away, hardly able to see where he was going he was so pissed. They were three blocks away before he realized he was dragging her along in a tight grip.

Ichigo stopped walking. He took a deep breath, releasing her and running the freed hand over his face.

"Just what—" He bit his hasty words off, took a deep breath, and tried again. "How long has that been going on?"

Ichigo looked back when she didn't answer, only to find her eyes full of tears that looked dangerously close to falling.

"H-hey… don't—"

She drew a shaky breath and he flinched, scowling and looking away.

"I don't know what to do…" Orihime swiped at her eyes. "If I don't work the rest of the week, I won't be able to make rent. And… And I'm already late, I don't think Kirumi-san will wait any longer."

His brain stalled.

Not making rent? Since when? And why the hell hadn't she said something? He wasn't exactly hurting for money. His own rent was paid months in advance. If she'd just asked he would have—

Ichigo shoved a hand through his hair.

That was the problem. She wouldn't have asked. Orihime would let herself be thrown out onto the street first, and now, thanks to him, that was probably just what was going to happen. Dammit… Why did these messed up situations always seem to find Inoue? She didn't deserve this shit.

"What about your aunt? I thought she was sending you money while you're in school."

She shook her head. "Only during high school. It was already such a huge burden on her, I couldn't ask for more than that."

And Orihime smiled, all sparkling, teary eyes and brave, soft smiles.

Seeing that look, made his bones ache with some unnamed emotion.

"She's been very kind to me, but she and my mother and father weren't close."

He nodded, hearing what she didn't say. Her parents hadn't been congenial members of society.

"Alright. How much do you need?"

She jerked. "Eh!? What…? I can't take y-your money, Kurosaki-kun. That's—"

"Inoue, I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to do it. I have the money… Or dad has it, I just need to get my check, but it's there."

She shook her head, vehement.

"Look, if it bothers you that much you can pay me back."

Like hell. But she didn't need to know that.

Still, Orihime looked uncertain.

He sighed. "What else are you going to do?"

"I…" She bit her lip. "I don't know. You're right..." Orihime squeezed her eyes shut and clutched small fists under her chin. "But… But I promise to pay you back! As soon as I find a new job I'll give it back to you."

"Sure thing..."

Ichigo waved a blood-speckled hand vaguely, dismissing anymore talk of repayment before it was lodged too far into her brain. Then he started back toward the clinic, waiting until she was beside him before crossing the street and finally taking back his coat.

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Orihime wanted to die.

She sat in a waiting room chair attempting to be as small as possible, and trying not to look as if she was listening in on their conversation. Which was difficult because Ichigo was using full volume.

"What do you mean you aren't paying me this week!?" Ichigo's palm slammed into the tabletop. "Damn it, old man, this is important!"

Stealing a look from under her lashes, she watched Isshin Kurosaki glare back at his son, arms crossed, and stubborn frown in place.

"Then I guess you should have thought about that before you didn't show up for work. You're a terrible employee, you know." He thought then added. "And you forgot my delicious sweet-bread..."

"You said to take off and focus on my exam…" Ichigo's voice dropped into a dark growl as he leaned over his father's desk. "And I already told you why I didn't get your precious bread. Are you really going to let Inoue sleep on the street just so you can act like a damn kid?"

Orihime flinched.

Isshin arched a brow. "Of course not."

"Good. Nice to see you have some sense—"

"Orihime-chan is welcome to stay here with me."

He winked at her and flashed a dazzling smile. One that was certain to send Ichigo straight up the wall.

Ichigo twitched, fists clenching and cracking as he squeezed his eyes closed and drew in on himself.

Orihime tensed in preparation of the impending explosion.

"Like hell I'd let her stay with you, pervert!" He swiped a hand through the air. "Forget it!"

Ichigo fumed by, throwing open the door and stomping out.

Orihime jumped from her chair, and gave Isshin a quick bow before hurrying after his son, calling over her shoulder, "It was good to see you again, Kurosaki-san!"

Isshin waved, grinning. "Stop by anytime, Orihime-chan."

Ichigo was waiting for her at the corner, still cursing under his breath.

She bit her lip when she reached him. "I'm sorry to be so much trouble. I didn't mean to bother you with any of this."

"You don't bother me, Inoue."

He stared across the street, mouth tense, seeming to contemplate something difficult. Then he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, throwing her a quick, assessing look— a flash of scorching amber— before glaring at something to the side.

"You can stay with me."

Orihime froze, mouth open, a flurry of tiny butterfly wings stirring inside her stomach.

"I mean…" He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "If you want to. If you feel comfortable…" Those eyes again. "I'd like you to stay with me."

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A/N

Yup, a roommate story! XD I'll try and post this up as its finished. And to those of you that already read my first horrid attempt, I'm hoping you liked the edited version better :)

Sorry to be MIA for so long. I've been working on some art and a few other things. So feel free to visit my deviantArt page if you'd like or join my IchiHime group Black Moon White Sun, yes? ^_^ Maybe? No? Lol. That's okay, but how about a review? :D