Chapter Text
"So... let's go over your career choices again," Haruki teased, stretching his legs on the tatami. "Because I swear, you threw out some wild options back there."
Orihime rolled her eyes, carefully placing her steaming black coffee at the edge of the tatami mat before leaning back against the low wooden table. Between them, a colorful mess of college brochures, scholarship applications, and half-used markers lay scattered, as if the future could be sorted out with enough highlighters.
She sighed, running a hand through her wavy chestnut hair. What did she even want to become?
Orihime liked a lot of things. Her interests were all over the place. She liked astrophysics because her name reminded her of the stars. She liked baking because she liked eating melon bread. She wanted to be a nurse because she had zero fear of injuries and had already handled blood and guts like a pro. Choosing just one felt impossible. What was her calling?
Haruki, sensing her frustration, tapped his pencil against the table. "Alright, let's start simple. What subjects are you best at?"
"Math," she answered instantly, sitting up straighter. "I even outscored Ishida in the past two semesters." Her face lit up with pride. Haruki blinked owlishly at this. Math? He honestly wouldn’t have guessed. Math was systematic and unemotional. Unlike her.
"Huh," he mused, chewing the end of his pencil. "That means you'd do well in fields like accounting, astrophysics, economics, or even business management...". Orihime ears perked upon hearing the last option.
"I..." she began softly. "I think I like the idea of business."
Haruki’s eyebrow quirked up. "Oh?"
She twirled a pen between her fingers. "I’ve been helping out at this bakery lately, and I actually enjoy handling the calculations, analysing costs, and managing supplies. Watching the business boom makes me very proud, as if I have meaningfully contributed to it. Being surrounded by bread is a bonus, obviously."
Haruki smirked. "So… food business?"
Oihime nodded vigorously, feeling a strange warmth at the thought. The idea of running her own bakery, once she gained more hands-on experience, actually felt… right.
"But—" Haruki cut into her thoughts. "You don’t really need a degree to run a business."
"But it’d help, wouldn’t it?”
He shrugged. "It definitely would. A degree in business management or even economics would give you a solid foundation. Of course, figuring out what you want to sell comes first."
Orihime’s eyes brightened at this. She already knew the answer. In fact, she had thought about this multiple times.
"I eventually want to create packaged food that's just as nutritious as home-cooked meals."
Haruki paused, surprised by the seriousness in her voice. "That’s… oddly specific."
Orihime nodded, pressing her hands together. "Well, let’s just say that I had days where I had to live off packaged food until I got sick. Eventually, I had to learn how to cook with fresh ingredients just to feel human again. But I know a lot of people don’t have the time or energy to do that. Single parents, overworked students, people who live alone. I think, they deserve better, you know?"
Haruki leaned back, watching her carefully. A nutritious meal prep for people like her? A slow, genuine smile stretched across his lips. "That’s… honestly admirable, Orihime."
She ducked her head, suddenly shy. "...It sounds like a pipe dream, though."
Haruki snorted. "It’s not. Sure, it’s a long-term goal, but careers aren’t sprints, they’re marathons." He tapped a finger on the table. "Here’s the plan: Pick a math-related course, work a few years in the food industry, learn the trade, gather some actual savings, then start something of your own. Of course, if you want to start early, nothing’s stopping you."
Orihime’s chest swelled with warmth. He made it sound so achievable.
"Thank you, Haruki-kun," she said, voice genuine, full of emotion.
Haruki’s ears turned slightly red. He looked away, grumbling, "O-of course. I expect a commission when you make it big."
Orihime laughed, eyes twinkling. "Should I make a free sandwich for you, as a commission for today’s brilliant advice?"
"Speaking of sandwiches," Haruki pointed mock-accusingly at her. "You just ate."
Orihime stuck her tongue out. "And? I need to refine my taste buds if I want to open a restaurant."
Haruki rolled his eyes, but his smile lingered.
And so, the two of them sat in the dim light of the cramped apartment, surrounded by brochures and highlighters, planning a future for Orihime.
*******
Ichigo was deep in Orwell’s world when Orihime stepped into the classroom. Generally, nothing short of an Arrancar attack could pull him out of the bleak, surreal atmosphere of the Animal Farm, but today was different.
Today, Orihime greeted him.
Not that it was unusual. It was part of her 15-minute morning ritual, to greet all her friends and acquaintances as she arrived. Normally, he would just wave and go back to his doing his own thing but today something it was different.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
At first, it was concern. Given her questionable living situation with that shady guy (what was his name again…? Hikaru? Harakiri?), it was only natural for him to keep tabs on her.
But something had shifted.
There was a lightness in her steps today. A jump in her gait that wasn’t normally there.
"Hey, Kurosaki-Kun!!”, she waved at him with a brilliant smile, her walk more confident than ever. Ichigo squinted. Suspicious.
"Everything good?" he asked, concern etched on his visage. "Oh yes! Better than ever!" she chirped.
Ichigo opened his mouth to ask what exactly was ‘better than ever,’ but the teacher walked in at the precise moment, and Orihime skipped back to her seat.
That should’ve been the end of it, except it wasn’t. For the next five classes until lunch, Ichigo kept glancing over his shoulder at Orihime, whose beaming smile never dimmed for a minute. Why did she look happier than usual? Was it that Haruki make her this happy?
Denial hit just as fast as the realization.
Nope. No way. Not happening. But as the seconds ticked by, he couldn’t shake the odd squeeze in the centre of his chest. Acid reflux, maybe. He thought feebly as he popped open his bottle of sparkling juice and took a long swig, dismissing the discomfort.
By the time lunch rolled around, Ichigo was still annoyed. Not at anything specific. Just… in general. At life. At people. And the stupid feeling in his chest that refused to go away.
The whole friend group had gathered on the rooftop. Keigo was busy crying out about Ishida’s unfair super-ability to answer all the questions in class. Orihime, who sat beside Ichigo, was giggling into her onigiri.
Keigo wasn’t that funny…
Ichigo didn’t even realize he was staring at her again until he caught himself mid-chew. There it was. The stupid glow. That extra contentment on her face. The redness of her cheeks from smiling too broad. And then the squeeze in his chest came back. He took another swig of juice, scowling at absolutely nothing.
Maybe he should just start bringing antacids to school.
*************
Orihime and Ichigo trailed slightly behind the rest of their friends as they made their way back from lunch. The school hallways were noisy with post-lunch energy, but for a fleeting moment, they found themselves alone near the stairwell landing, a small window of quiet between the chaos.
Orihime rocked on her heels beside him, hands tucked behind her back, before glancing up at him with curious, thoughtful eyes.
"You look worried today, Kurosaki-kun. Is everything fine?" she said softly.
Ichigo blinked, caught off guard.
Him? Worried? He was not worried about anything at all. Rather, he had spent the first half morning pretending to take notes and drinking questionable amounts of sparkling juice to stop himself from overanalysing her glowing happiness. There was no concern, none at all.
"I'm fine," he said smoothly, shrugging it off. "Maybe you should be the one answering that question. You’ve been weirdly… cheery today."
Orihime’s smile brightened. "Oh!!! Actually, Haruki and I talked about my career plans yesterday."
So that was him. The reason behind her happiness. Ichigo deduced, feeling a weird pang at hearing his name.
He chose to ignore it.
"He helped me figure a lot of things out," she continued. "You see…I was brainstorming my college plans with him and let’s just say that it led to me aiming for future in food business, specifically. A business that aims to deliver nutritious yet convenient food for people who don’t have the time or resources to cook. I actually had been thinking about going into food business for a while now, Kurosaki-kun, and Haruki-kun just gave me that extra boost of confidence, I guess. S-So…I would likely be opting for a Math-forward course as a foundation for business… something like that...hehe.", she finished rambling abruptly, suddenly self-aware that Ichigo might find her dreams embarrassing.
Ichigo raised a brow. That was… surprisingly ambitious. He had always known Orihime was smart, but this was different. Although she was rambling, there was an odd clarity in her voice. For some reason, it made him feel proud of her.
"That actually makes sense for you, Inoue," he said, nodding, earning a blush from her. "You practically made me pass Math last semester, thanks to those gimmicky formula charts of yours."
"Hey!" she protested childishly.
"And I know you love food way too much for it to just be a hobby."
Orihime giggled. "Well, that’s 's true!"
"Did Haruki help you with all this?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.
"Yeah," she admitted. "He made me sit down and helped me connect the dots."
Ichigo hummed in thought. So, this Haruki was actually not just a waste of space? Shocking.
Orihime tilted her head at him. "What about you? What do you want to do?"
Ichigo stuffed his hands into his pockets, casually looking away. "Apart from being Shinigami…Haven’t given it a thought."
Orihime puffed out her cheeks. "That’s not a real answer, Kurosaki-kun. Also, what will you do with Soul Society’s money? I doubt our government will take it as an exchange.", she half-teased him, although he could sense some concern etched on her face.
He smirked at her childish expression. "You are right. But I heard on the grapevine that some money is stashed away in Soul Society in my name. Maybe I will just move there?” He gave a teasing half-grin.
Orihime’s heart momentarily dropped hearing this. He does not mean it, does he?
"You don’t mean it…do you?" she huffed, her brows furrowing slightly. Then, as if making a decision, she reached out and gently tugged at him. Ichigo froze. It wasn’t much, a barely-there touch, but it was enough to make him hyper-aware of the warmth of her fingers against his.
“I-Inoue…?”
"If Haruki-kun can help me, then I can help you too.", she spoke earnestly. And before he could protest, she had led him towards an empty chair in the classroom, plopping down beside him like a self-appointed career counsellor.
"Oh great, so we are actually doing this." Ichigo deadpanned. Orihime simply beamed, undeterred.
"Alright, let’s start with a simple question: What are you best at?"
"Being a menace to society. Particularly to Hollows, Quincies and sometimes to Shinigamis as well.", he quipped.
She flicked his forehead. "Be serious."
Ichigo sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Fine. I like literature. Both Japanese and English."
Orihime lit up. "I knew it! I’ve read your Japanese notes before! You have a really unique way of analysing poetry."
Ichigo quirked a brow. "You read my class notes?"
Orihime nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Your take on Miyazawa Kenji’s ‘Ame ni mo Makezu’ was one of the most thoughtful ones I’ve seen. And the way you broke down Ishikawa Takuboku’s tanka poetry? It was amazing."
Ichigo scoffed, hiding the tiny swell of pride in his chest. "That doesn’t exactly pay well, though...”, he spoke dismissively.
"But you do love literature, right?" she pressed further. "Plus, I am sure there are more bankable options for literature student…like…a professor? Or a translator? Or a sell-out book critique?”
Ichigo frowned, looking down at his hands. Literature was just something he enjoyed, something that felt like home to him.
But to make a living out of it?
He looked up at Orihime for an answer. The afternoon sun bathed her in a golden glow, turning her auburn hair into molten light. She looked effortlessly radiant in a way that felt both tangible and untouchable and somehow, her brilliance steadied him. Her big brown eyes were so unwaveringly supportive, so full of warmth and hope for both herself and for him that something in his chest coiled tight, unfamiliar and unshakable.
And in that moment, he had his answer.
"Yeah," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "Maybe I should start thinking about it seriously. Thanks, Inoue. For real.", giving her one of his rare, sincere smiles, the kind that made her heart skip a beat.
He didn’t know what his future held, but Orihime made him want to figure it out. She smiled back, a quiet, encouraging kind of smile. And for the first time that day, Ichigo felt something settle inside him.