Orihime accepted the invitation, still humming a bit. And a bit sad, too — in the past she would have figured out that he was on the roof before even setting foot on the stairs, but…
His lost reiatsu. Always the issue.
She decided not to mention it.
She giggled at the remark, though, since both of them had strange-colored hair. Well, it wasn’t just that. They’d been picked on for it, hadn’t they? Sado-kun had said so. And Tatsuki. She hadn’t known Ichigo back then, but she wouldn’t be surprised at all if it was true.
"I have bread and asparagus and raspberries!" she chirped, pulling out said items from the bag she carried her lunch in. "And apple juice. What about you?"
"Together…?" He didn’t mean to blurt it out quite like that. Certainly not sounding that startled. It wasn’t any of his business what she thought tasted good.
Still… asparagus on bread. With raspberries. It was a wonder she wasn’t constantly sick.
Ichigo snorted, finding his first real smile of the day as he tipped his completely non-original bento her direction so she could inspect it. The oddity of her eating habits were old news, yet familiar and comforting in their own way. It reminded him how it’d been before everything with the Soul Society had all happened. The girls in the class asking Inoue what she’d brought, only to look on in a type of fascinated horror when she pulled it out.
It was a good memory.
He chewed a piece of cooked meat, glancing up after he was finished. There’d been something on his mind the last few weeks, but he’d never managed to find a way to bring it up.
Poking at his food, he asked, “Hey, Inoue. We’re friends, right?”