(no subject)
May. 15th, 2005 08:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moonsheenVery belated birthday ficbittery for my dear ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chirachira. Who deserves better written antics for these two, I'll just say. Orihime is deceptively difficult to write.
So, a part-time shinigami walked into a sewing shop—
--wasn’t really the beginning of a joke that funny, in Ichigo’s opinion—but an errand was an errand, and no dinner was a very real possibility, so he stopped by on the way like he said he would. The middle aged woman who was leaving as he got there gave him a glance when he held door for her. Her feet were a hurried pattern of clicks on the pavement—and he was pretty sure she must’ve looked back two or three times.
Yes, he thought with a snort, ducking in. Exactly what you’re thinking. I knock over yarn places in my free time. Got to get the materials for the world’s largest ball of twine somehow--
A girl was putting something back on a top shelf along the wall. She wasn’t quite tall enough to make it, so she’d planted her foot on one of the lower shelves between what looked like a couple stuffed cats, blue and pink respectively, to lever herself up. Her arm was raised as far as it would go, fingers curled rather determinedly around the spool of yarn. She wore a cheerful yellow apron. “Sunflower Sewing” it said, the logo in red at the corner.
“I. Must. Reach. The summit--“she was saying with a breathless gusto.
Ichigo recognized the way her hair fell first.
“…oi,” he said in surprise, as the bell rang behind him. “Inoue.”
She stretched. “The mission is—“ She stretched. “The mission is--“ She slipped. “Kurosaki-kun--?!”
There were some handy things about what Ichigo did in his spare time—ready reflexes for one, and really thank God and fruity salesmen for that. He was behind her in less than a second, one hand at the small of her back and the other on the yarn. It was fuzzy and sea green and she must have already had a death grip on it—his hand ended up closed over hers. Her body was tense the way she’d fallen against him, locked in the exact pose she’d been balancing in, one leg still bent. He blinked.
“…Inoue?”
“umyes…?”
He tapped the back of her hand. “I got it.”
“Oh.” She relaxed. “...it needs to go a little to the left—next to the Verdant Spring! There—oh no no no that’s Cactus Tan--and that’s Cheerful Moss!”
“That’s….a lot of green,” concluded Ichigo, after they made it to the counter, some time later.
“Fifty-six and counting,” said Orihime, proudly.
“A-ha.” Ichigo wasn’t going to debate the difference between Mermaid’s Nightgown and Davy Jones Night Club. “…didn’t know you worked here.”
“Only on Sundays! And Tuesdays. And sometimes Wednesdays—otherwise it’s Melt-o-Lada! Oh, and a few times a month at Happy Laurence’s--” she stopped with her finger on her bottom lip. “I didn’t know Kurosaki-kun was interested in sewing.”
“I’m not.”
“...oh.”
The way her face fell made him pull out the list quickly. He smacked it down on the counter and slid it across to her. “My sister wanted me to pick up a few things and...” He watched her as she leaned in close to have a look. Her nose nearly touched the paper. “No idea what any of this stuff is.”
“Reads like Bulgarian?”
“Maybe Lithuanian.”
“What about Klingon?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
Orihime straightened with bounce and a crack of her knuckles. “Kurosaki-kun,” she said, very seriously. “I think I can help you.”
chirachira. Who deserves better written antics for these two, I'll just say. Orihime is deceptively difficult to write. So, a part-time shinigami walked into a sewing shop—
--wasn’t really the beginning of a joke that funny, in Ichigo’s opinion—but an errand was an errand, and no dinner was a very real possibility, so he stopped by on the way like he said he would. The middle aged woman who was leaving as he got there gave him a glance when he held door for her. Her feet were a hurried pattern of clicks on the pavement—and he was pretty sure she must’ve looked back two or three times.
Yes, he thought with a snort, ducking in. Exactly what you’re thinking. I knock over yarn places in my free time. Got to get the materials for the world’s largest ball of twine somehow--
A girl was putting something back on a top shelf along the wall. She wasn’t quite tall enough to make it, so she’d planted her foot on one of the lower shelves between what looked like a couple stuffed cats, blue and pink respectively, to lever herself up. Her arm was raised as far as it would go, fingers curled rather determinedly around the spool of yarn. She wore a cheerful yellow apron. “Sunflower Sewing” it said, the logo in red at the corner.
“I. Must. Reach. The summit--“she was saying with a breathless gusto.
Ichigo recognized the way her hair fell first.
“…oi,” he said in surprise, as the bell rang behind him. “Inoue.”
She stretched. “The mission is—“ She stretched. “The mission is--“ She slipped. “Kurosaki-kun--?!”
There were some handy things about what Ichigo did in his spare time—ready reflexes for one, and really thank God and fruity salesmen for that. He was behind her in less than a second, one hand at the small of her back and the other on the yarn. It was fuzzy and sea green and she must have already had a death grip on it—his hand ended up closed over hers. Her body was tense the way she’d fallen against him, locked in the exact pose she’d been balancing in, one leg still bent. He blinked.
“…Inoue?”
“umyes…?”
He tapped the back of her hand. “I got it.”
“Oh.” She relaxed. “...it needs to go a little to the left—next to the Verdant Spring! There—oh no no no that’s Cactus Tan--and that’s Cheerful Moss!”
“That’s….a lot of green,” concluded Ichigo, after they made it to the counter, some time later.
“Fifty-six and counting,” said Orihime, proudly.
“A-ha.” Ichigo wasn’t going to debate the difference between Mermaid’s Nightgown and Davy Jones Night Club. “…didn’t know you worked here.”
“Only on Sundays! And Tuesdays. And sometimes Wednesdays—otherwise it’s Melt-o-Lada! Oh, and a few times a month at Happy Laurence’s--” she stopped with her finger on her bottom lip. “I didn’t know Kurosaki-kun was interested in sewing.”
“I’m not.”
“...oh.”
The way her face fell made him pull out the list quickly. He smacked it down on the counter and slid it across to her. “My sister wanted me to pick up a few things and...” He watched her as she leaned in close to have a look. Her nose nearly touched the paper. “No idea what any of this stuff is.”
“Reads like Bulgarian?”
“Maybe Lithuanian.”
“What about Klingon?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
Orihime straightened with bounce and a crack of her knuckles. “Kurosaki-kun,” she said, very seriously. “I think I can help you.”
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-16 12:54 am (UTC)<4, because <3 isn't enough.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-16 12:55 am (UTC)...for the record yes Ishida was totally busy in the backroom and yes he totally wears one of those aprons too.
Random person says:
Date: 2005-05-19 06:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-17 01:41 pm (UTC)... I think I'm a guy, cuz if something is green to me, it's green. No cactus tan or happy moss. Just green. *thinks about sex change*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-18 04:09 pm (UTC)laf I also like the visual image of Ishida in the back with the Sunshine apron on. But then I even enjoyed the names of the colors. A favorite line : "Ichigo wasn’t going to debate the difference between Mermaid’s Nightgown and Davy Jones Night Club."
Thanks for sharing!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-27 11:46 pm (UTC)