Yes, I am skipping order with this.
Jul. 5th, 2010 09:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
queenofchalicesTitle: Til Death Do Us Part: Chapter Two - Western Gate
Series: Bleach
Rating: R
Warnings: het (IchiHime), ANGST, dysfunctional relationships, adult themes
Spoilers: This is set ten years after the series, so spoilers up to current chapters
Disclaimer: These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. The LiveJournal format that you'll probably be reading this in (if you're one of my friends) is rough draft and is subject to revision. Consider this a 'sneak peek'. If something sits the wrong way with you, let me know. This will probably (never) be updated weekly, until I eventually drop it like every other project ever. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.
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Thirty-seven minutes ago
Ichigo looked up at the sound of his office door sliding open. He had been filing his usual paperwork - leave chits, variance reports, acquisition forms - when he was interrupted by the sound of the door and the smell of cigarette smoke. His eye twitched in annoyance; he'd lost track of the times he'd berated the only smoker he knew in Soul Society about his nasty habit.
"Akon, what the hell did I tell you about smoking in our offices?" Ichigo growled across his desk. The third seat of Twelfth Division favored him with a cheeky grin for his trouble, not bothering to remove the noxious cancer stick.
"Look, Kurosaki," he mumbled around the cigarette, "We really don't have time for this today."
"Oh, I got all the time in the world," Ichigo said with a sarcastic smirk, propping his jaw against his fist. He drummed his fingers against his desk in impatience, waiting for his rude guest to explain himself.
"Actually, you don't," Akon corrected him, pulling a slip of paper out of his lab coat, "I have something I think you'll be interested in." Handing the slip to Ichigo, the horned scientist folded his arms across his chest and waited.
"Coordinates?" Ichigo asked, raising an eyebrow, "What about 'em?" Akon bowed his head, scuffing his toe against the nice, polished floor in Ichigo's office.
"It's for a konso," Akon said succinctly. Ichigo shrugged; he didn't have time to run around stamping ghost foreheads today, he had real work to do.
"What's that got to do with me?" He asked flatly, letting the small slip of paper flutter to the desk, "You know I don't have time for konso."
"You'll want to make time for that one," Akon said with a knowing smirk, but when Ichigo's expression didn't change, his normal disinterested look returned. "Look, I'll be straight with you. As soon as I saw that, I brought it to you. You absolutely don't want my Captain or Vice Captain to get their hands on that soul." Now, Ichigo's eyebrows were practically flying into his hair; what could possibly be so special about this soul that would pique Kurotsuchi's interest?
Whatever it was, Ichigo had a bad feeling about it.
__________________________________________________________________
Thirty-seven minutes later
Ichigo realized his earlier assessment of the situation had been incorrect. He didn't have a bad feeling about it - he had a very bad feeling about it. It was the same sinking feeling one got while watching a performer stick their hand into an alligator's mouth.
Standing before him was the spirit of his high school crush, who also just so happened to have married one of his best friends a good five years ago. As if this wasn't bad enough, Ichigo now realized exactly why Akon had given him this assignment instead of passing it on to his boss. Kurotsuchi had never failed to make Ichigo aware of his disdain for him, nor had he ever bothered to hide his borderline-perverse interest in Inoue Orihime and her spiritual powers.
'Scratch that,' Ichigo silently rebuked himself, 'Ishida Orihime.'
"Is something the matter, Kurosaki-kun?" The disembodied spirit asked from behind a strained smile, "You look like you just bit down on a lemon..."
"It's nothing, Ishida-san," he quickly mumbled, watching as her face took on a sadder hue.
"Inoue," she chided him firmly, "Please call me Inoue. Like... Like you used to." Ichigo stared at her in puzzlement. What was this all about? Was it just nostalgia? Why did she sound kind of sad? Well, he figured she was probably sad because she'd just died, but the name thing was still a little weird. Either way, that was her choice.
"Sure thing, Inoue," he replied softly. She favored him with a watery smile in return.
But now came the hard part. What was he to do with her, now that she was dead? Obviously she had to go to Soul Society, but what then? Eventually, Kurotsuchi would figure out she was there and come after her - she did still have those hairpins in her hair, after all. And even if he didn't, Ichigo was loathe to let her wander around Rukongai by herself; he was confident she'd be fine in the upper districts, but what if she got assigned to the 80th district? He could always call on the Shiba family, but he wasn't really sure if he wanted to subject Orihime to Kuukaku's wrath on a daily basis.
And there was also a part of him that wanted her to stay with him, too, although he'd be loathe to say that out loud. She was still another man's wife, after all, and Ichigo was keenly aware that she would probably feel awkward if he stayed too close to her.
Really, that left him with one immediate option, at least until he could check and see if she could be enrolled into the shinigami academy.
"What are you thinking about, Kurosaki-kun?" Orihime suddenly asked, shaking Ichigo out of his stupor. He realized he must have been silent for longer than he'd thought he had, for now Orihime was peering at him with a look of genuine concern.
"Huh?" He replied, shaking off his torpor, "I-It's nothing, Inoue. Look, once I do this konso on you, I need you to follow my instructions, alright?" Orihime looked quite lucid, so he continued.
"I'll be taking the senkaimon back to Soul Society, so I can't go back the same way as you. When you arrive, you'll be at a way station of sorts. They'll give you a numbered ticket that'll assign you to a district where you're supposed to live from here on out. You with me so far?"
Orihime silently nodded her understanding, indicating that it was safe for Ichigo to continue.
"When the shinigami give you that number, don't go. I want you to wait for me by the Western Gate, the one Jidanbo guards. You remember where that's at, right?"
"U-Uhn," Orihime confirmed, a puzzled look on her face, "But what if the shinigami get mad at me for not going?" Ichigo's face looked as though he'd never considered this possibility before.
"If they try to force you, you can get Jidanbo," he said thoughtfully. He paused for a beat, and then: "Or you could tell them I gave you permission, that'll shut 'em up." He gave Orihime a cocky grin for reassurance, one he felt like he hadn't worn in years. In fact, the act of smiling even made his face ache a bit.
"Alright, Kurosaki-kun." Orihime returned his smile earnestly. It wasn't the one he remembered from ten years ago, by any stretch of the imagination. It was weak and felt tired, like she was only smiling to reassure him. Well, he could certainly relate to that, so he decided not to pursue the topic.
"You ready?" he asked quietly, his tall figure leaning over the smaller woman, "I promise I'll be gentle." If Orihime noticed any double-entendre there, she didn't let on as though she did. Instead, she let her eyes drift shut as she lifted her face to him.
"I'm ready."
__________________________________________________________________
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
She was supposed to start all over again in Rukongai, far far away from everyone who'd ever known her. She would have a house of her own, just like Kuukaku, and maybe even have a little black cat like Yoruichi, or a rambunctious little pig like Bonnie. She would have a little garden with corn and tomatoes and watermelon in the summer, with a well on the edge of the morning glory patch. And she'd wake up every day and stretch her arms up toward the sun, free and happy, and dance barefoot on her lawn.
Well, none of that was in the picture now. Fate had seen fit to waylay her with probably the very last person she'd hoped to see. As soon as she'd laid eyes on Kurosaki Ichigo again, in those familiar black robes she remembered from so long ago, all those plans had crumbled to dust. And Orihime wasn't entirely sure if she was upset about that or not.
Sure, she knew the right thing to do would be to remove herself from the picture as soon as possible. After all, he had Rukia and all his shinigami friends now; her presence would be more of a burden than anything. She wasn't needed here, and hadn't been for many years.
Even though she knew it was the right thing to do, the sight of her old crush's face, the sound of his voice, and his scent, all beckoned her to stay. Orihime silently cursed her traitorous heart, the one that was begging her to follow his instructions and see what he wanted. She found herself unable to protest his directions, even though her heart ached. What could he possibly want her to meet back up with him for? Wasn't his job done?
Thoughts snapping back to the present, Orihime regarded the slip of paper in her hand - district 73, Kuroito. The name sounded ominous, but she was sure it wasn't that bad. She briefly considered going on into the district, but just couldn't bring herself to; Ichigo would be really hurt if she did. But could she really face what she suspected awaited her when he arrived?
"Hey, newbie!" one of the shinigami orderlies barked at her, "Stop daydreaming and get a move on! You're gonna miss your transport!" She had been afraid of this.
"I-I'm sorry!" she stammered nervously, "I'm waiting on someone. I can't go yet." The attendant didn't look too pleased by this revelation. He crossed his arms across his chest with a snort.
"Just because you got a shitty ticket doesn't mean you get to stall," the shinigami brusquely informed her, "And if you're waiting on a family member, they ain't comin' for ya." Orihime shook her head fervently. She hoped this shinigami would just leave her alone; it had been literally years since she'd last used her powers, and she wasn't at all sure how well she'd be able to defend herself if it came down to it.
"It's not that," she protested, "Kurosaki-kun told me to wait for him by the Western Gate..." The shinigami stopped for a second before bursting out into laughter and turning to get his partner's attention.
"Check it out, Hijiri!" he said, his voice a jeer, "This chick says she's waiting on Kurosaki!" The shinigami named Hijiri could barely contain his mirth.
"Seriously?" he asked somewhat gleefully, "That ice queen? Didn't our captain beat his ass back in the day?"
"I heard he made him his bitch!" the original shinigami replied with a broad grin, "Only thing that saved him was that freaky mask of his!"
That comment struck a chord within Orihime. How dare they talk about Ichigo like that? How many times had he saved Soul Society and the people in it by now? She wasn't exactly sure, but even once was impressive.
"Don't talk about Kurosaki-kun like that," she said quietly, her fists trembling at her side.
"Pffth, what're you gonna do if we do?" the first shinigami sneered at her. He had obviously failed to immediately notice the gigantic reiatsu looming behind her at the moment.
"Talk about me like what?" the voice came from behind Orihime through gritted teeth, "If I find out you assholes have given Inoue any trouble..." They immediately took the hint and snapped their jaws shut.
"We weren't giving her any trouble!" Hijiri quickly said with a nervous smile. Ichigo's nostrils flared; Orihime wondered how much he'd heard and if he was trying to intimidate them on purpose.
"Good," Ichigo said down his nose at them, "I'd hate to let Byakuya know his guys were being jerk-asses to Inoue." This seemed to have the desired effect; the two men may not have respected Ichigo, but they definitely weren't about to cross their boss.
"Y-Yes, sir!" they said in unison. Orihime blinked up at the tense look Ichigo was directing at them before he turned his scowl to her.
"C'mon, Inoue," he started, turning towards Seireitei, "We've wasted enough time on these guys." Orihime nodded and turned to follow him as he moved in his intended direction.
"What a prick," the first shinigami muttered as soon as the two were out of earshot.
"At least he's got good taste in women," the one named Hijiri commented, his voice awestruck.
Ichigo and Orihime walked towards the Western Gate in silence, the only sounds being the soft padding of Ichigo's waraji and Orihime's flats against the dry grass.
"I thought you were going to the gate," Ichigo finally said, breaking the awkward silence.
"I'm sorry," Orihime apologized softly, "I wasn't fast enough. I made you wait." She was certain he was angry with her now. All he'd asked her to do was to go to the Western Gate, and she'd already screwed that up.
"Made me wait?" Ichigo asked incredulously, "You made me worry is what you did! I thought something happened to you!" Orihime felt her cheeks burn with shame; even in death, she was utterly incompetent! She felt the tell-tale prickle of tears just behind her sinuses. Hadn't she cried enough for one lifetime and beyond? And now she was about to cry in front of Ichigo, of all people! After not having seen him for ten years, the first thing she was going to do was cry!
She could no longer fight the feelings of helplessness and incompetence as silent tears coursed down Orihime's cheeks. She tried not to make a sound that would alert Ichigo to her distress, but as he stopped suddenly and turned to face her, she realized he could probably feel her unstable reiatsu anyway. Even worse, the look of abject horror he adopted upon seeing her tear-stained face made her actually begin to sob.
"Inoue, what?" Ichigo stood before her, shell-shocked. His face went pale and his fingers twitched as though they wanted very badly to do something and he wouldn't let them.
"I-I'm sorry!" Orihime blurted out, bringing her hands to her face to try and hide her tears, "N-Now you're angry at me and I only j-just got here-!"
If Orihime had been able to see Ichigo's face from behind her hands, she'd have seen a look of agony. He didn't stall much longer, though; Orihime stopped sobbing when she felt something brush her cheek.
She looked up to see Ichigo using the hem of his sleeve to wipe her face clean, his face still twisted into a grimace.
"I'm not mad at you, Inoue," he intoned softly, "So stop crying, alright? It's... It's awkward." She took her hands from her face and snapped to attention, some tears still escaping the corners of her eyes.
"I-I won't do it again!" she swore, her voice still shaky and her bottom lip trembling from the effort. Ichigo sighed.
"I didn't say you couldn't cry if you needed to," Ichigo explained, "I just don't want to be the one to cause it, you know?" Orihime nodded vigorously, not trusting her voice. She couldn't remember a time someone had told her it was okay to cry.
They continued on, reaching their destination after a few more minutes of walking. Orihime watched as Jidanbo hailed Ichigo in a cheery voice. She thought back to the time she'd healed his massive arm and wondered if he remembered her at all. It seemed like it had happened in another lifetime entirely. When was the last time she'd actually healed anyone, come to think of it? She found she couldn't recall.
"And who might this lovely young lady be?" he finally addressed her from where she was standing behind Ichigo, deep in thought. As soon as she realized he was talking to her, she snapped her head up and stepped from behind Ichigo.
"O-Oh, I'm-"
But before she could finish her sentence, Jidanbo's eye grew as large as buckets as he recognized the lady in front of him.
"Goodness me!" he bellowed, dropping to his knees and bowing to the ground, "It's really you! How many years has it been? Please forgive this lowly gatekeeper for not recognizing you sooner, milady!" Orihime blushed from the attention.
"A-Ah, that's not necessary-!" she protested, waving her hands before her chest and smiling nervously.
"Jeez, Jidanbo," Ichigo sighed, cleaning one ear with his pinky, "Cut the theatrics already, you're embarrassing her!" The giant stood again, but his face had broken out into a broad grin.
"My apologies, Inoue-san," he said happily, "It's just that it's been years since I last saw you!" Orihime realized that he'd used her maiden name and not her married one; had she forgotten to send him a notification? She hadn't sent that many out, and she was dead now anyway, so it was just as well to not bother with correcting him. Besides, Uryuu usually did it for her, and he wasn't here now, either. She smiled happily up at the giant in response.
"I'm sorry I didn't keep in touch!" Orihime said sincerely, "I'll correct that from now on!" At this, Jidanbo's expression grew perplexed.
"From now on?" he asked, scratching his large head, "Aren't you just here for a visit?" Ichigo blew out a huff of air as he scuffed the dirt.
"She's dead, you boob!" Ichigo announced in exasperation, "She's staying permanently!" Now it was Orihime's turn to look puzzled.
"I am?"
Ichigo straightened up at her query, a light blush creeping across his cheeks.
"Well, as long as you want, anyway," he corrected himself. Orihime seemed to accept this with a smile.
"I'm sorry to hear about your passing," Jidanbo ventured carefully, a slightly uncomfortable look on his face. She beamed up at him in return.
"I'm not!" she chirped, realizing a second too late that what she'd just said sounded incredibly off, "What I mean is, I'm looking forward to staying here from now on, so it's totally okay!" Both Jidanbo and Ichigo looked a bit bewildered, so Orihime simply rubbed her head and favored them with a sheepish smile.
"Anyway," Ichigo continued after another few seconds of awkward silence, "We gotta get going. I promise you can come back and chat later, Inoue." Then, turning to their gigantic friend: "Go ahead and open it up, Jidanbo." The giant gave Ichigo a grave nod before grabbing the bottom of the gate and hefting it up to his shoulder.
As soon as the gate crashed down behind them, Ichigo wordlessly began walking as Orihime followed. She had to walk quickly to keep up with his long strides, peeking shyly up at him as she did so. She had more than a few questions she wanted to ask him.
"A-Ano, Kurosaki-kun?" she finally ventured, " Where are we going?" He glanced down at her and slowed his pace so they could talk.
"Back to our division's barracks," he replied as though it was the simplest thing in the world, "I can put you up there for a little while, at least until you get on your feet." Orihime gave him a puzzled look.
"On my feet?" she asked, genuinely curious, "Are you sure it's okay, though? I'm not really a shinigami..."
"Until you decide if you're gonna take the entrance exam to the Academy, I guess," he said thoughtfully, scratching the tiny stubble on his chin.
'When did he get stubble?' Orihime thought, oddly intrigued by it.
"Oh," she responded dully, hardly registering that he hadn't answered her other question. As they walked, though, another question presented itself to her, one that had truthfully gnawed at her for years.
"Umm," she began hesitantly, not quite sure how to phrase it, "How is Kuchiki-san?" Her voice was laced with trepidation; she hoped Ichigo didn't notice.
"You mean Rukia, right?" he asked, his tone suggesting he'd felt the need to make sure she wasn't asking after Byakuya for some odd reason. Orihime nodded, worrying her bottom lip as she waited on his answer
"She's alright, I guess," he said with a shrug, "Same as always, really. She usually either hangs out in her division or with Renji or her brother." Orihime gave him a puzzled look; maybe he meant that was what she did when they weren't together?
"You mean when she's not with you?" Orihime ventured. Her voice was light and innocently inquisitive, but she was actually speaking around a lump in her throat. Worse, she could feel those tears prickling her eyesockets again. Suddenly, she didn't want to be here anymore. Maybe she should've listened to those two shinigami after all.
"Eh?" Ichigo answered, confusion tinting his voice, "I actually don't see her that much anymore. We're both too busy with our divisions to hang out like teenagers, really." Orihime blinked away her building tears, feeling that old, seizing pain in her chest abate somewhat. Who knew even spirits could have heartache like that?
"If you wanted to see her, I could call her over later?" Ichigo ventured, his eyebrow quirking as he looked down at her. Orihime hoped he hadn't noticed her momentary, fading distress.
"U-Uhn!" she replied with only a bit of forced happiness this time, "I haven't seen her in a long time!" 'A really long time,' Orihime finished mentally. She'd fallen out of contact with most of her shinigami friends shortly after the wedding. What was the point of letting them see her face anymore? They'd only worry.
"Well, we're here," Ichigo said, breaking the awkward, gloomy silence as he came to a stop in front the divisional barracks. Orihime looked up from where the dust swirled around Ichigo's waraji to see the diamond above the entrance-way to the long, low building. The large, black kanji for the number five looked back down at her.
"Fifth Division?" Orihime asked, "Isn't that the division Aizen..." Ichigo snorted, tilting his chin away from Orihime in disdain.
"We don't say that name around here," he informed her brusquely, "It upsets Momo." Orihime blinked, recalling vaguely the frail girl she'd last seen almost ten years ago. Maybe, because they lived longer, hurts took longer for shinigami to heal?
'Maybe that's not exclusive to shinigami,' she thought ruefully.
"C'mon," Ichigo said, motioning up the steps with his head, "Come inside. I'll show you around."
He led her through the dining hall and the kitchens, showing her where their meals were prepared. He introduced her to the cooks, three stout old ladies who took an immediate liking to Orihime and did their best to make her feel comfortable. Then he led her through the laundry room and showed her the giant washtubs they used. Even though Ichigo admitted they were out of date to human world standards, Orihime thought they were quaint and charming. She even climbed inside one to see just how big it was.
They went through the training grounds, some of the barracks (she was to get her own room in the female wing after he finished showing her around), the linen issue, and finally the divisional offices.
"This is where Momo and our third seat, Hanbei, work," he said, pointing to their desks, each aligned parallel with a wall of the long room. There were other desks, bookshelves, filing cabinets, even a coffee maker; all of the trappings of a traditional office, really, only slightly more antiquated. Everything but the coffee maker seemed to have come directly from the Taisho era. As for the little brewing contraption, Orihime thought it looked strikingly out of place in the old-fashioned office. She reasoned that it couldn't have been more than a year old at most.
Before she could comment on it, Ichigo began walking towards a sliding door at the northern end of the room.
"And back here is the Captain's Office," he said, sliding the door open and walking inside. Orihime followed him, jaw agape.
"K-Kurosaki-kun!" she flailed, sliding the door shut behind them, "You... You can't just walk in like that, can you?" Ichigo threw her a puzzled look.
"Why not?" he asked, rummaging through one of the drawers for something. Orihime wondered if it was possible for her to die again, this time of a heart attack. If his captain caught them in here, they'd be in so much trouble!
"Won't... Won't your captain be mad?" she asked, her voice taking on a nervous timbre, "You just walked right in and started going through their things!" Ichigo finally found the white cloth he was looking for and pulled it out of the drawer. As he pushed his arms through the cut-off sleeve holes, Orihime could clearly see the kanji for 'five' silk-screened on the back, with the kanji for 'one' hand-painted above it. It spelled "Ichigo", with numbers.
"Dummy," he chided her warmly, turning to face her from behind the large, wooden desk, "The captain doesn't care because I am the captain."
Series: Bleach
Rating: R
Warnings: het (IchiHime), ANGST, dysfunctional relationships, adult themes
Spoilers: This is set ten years after the series, so spoilers up to current chapters
Disclaimer: These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. The LiveJournal format that you'll probably be reading this in (if you're one of my friends) is rough draft and is subject to revision. Consider this a 'sneak peek'. If something sits the wrong way with you, let me know. This will probably (never) be updated weekly, until I eventually drop it like every other project ever. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.
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Thirty-seven minutes ago
Ichigo looked up at the sound of his office door sliding open. He had been filing his usual paperwork - leave chits, variance reports, acquisition forms - when he was interrupted by the sound of the door and the smell of cigarette smoke. His eye twitched in annoyance; he'd lost track of the times he'd berated the only smoker he knew in Soul Society about his nasty habit.
"Akon, what the hell did I tell you about smoking in our offices?" Ichigo growled across his desk. The third seat of Twelfth Division favored him with a cheeky grin for his trouble, not bothering to remove the noxious cancer stick.
"Look, Kurosaki," he mumbled around the cigarette, "We really don't have time for this today."
"Oh, I got all the time in the world," Ichigo said with a sarcastic smirk, propping his jaw against his fist. He drummed his fingers against his desk in impatience, waiting for his rude guest to explain himself.
"Actually, you don't," Akon corrected him, pulling a slip of paper out of his lab coat, "I have something I think you'll be interested in." Handing the slip to Ichigo, the horned scientist folded his arms across his chest and waited.
"Coordinates?" Ichigo asked, raising an eyebrow, "What about 'em?" Akon bowed his head, scuffing his toe against the nice, polished floor in Ichigo's office.
"It's for a konso," Akon said succinctly. Ichigo shrugged; he didn't have time to run around stamping ghost foreheads today, he had real work to do.
"What's that got to do with me?" He asked flatly, letting the small slip of paper flutter to the desk, "You know I don't have time for konso."
"You'll want to make time for that one," Akon said with a knowing smirk, but when Ichigo's expression didn't change, his normal disinterested look returned. "Look, I'll be straight with you. As soon as I saw that, I brought it to you. You absolutely don't want my Captain or Vice Captain to get their hands on that soul." Now, Ichigo's eyebrows were practically flying into his hair; what could possibly be so special about this soul that would pique Kurotsuchi's interest?
Whatever it was, Ichigo had a bad feeling about it.
__________________________________________________________________
Thirty-seven minutes later
Ichigo realized his earlier assessment of the situation had been incorrect. He didn't have a bad feeling about it - he had a very bad feeling about it. It was the same sinking feeling one got while watching a performer stick their hand into an alligator's mouth.
Standing before him was the spirit of his high school crush, who also just so happened to have married one of his best friends a good five years ago. As if this wasn't bad enough, Ichigo now realized exactly why Akon had given him this assignment instead of passing it on to his boss. Kurotsuchi had never failed to make Ichigo aware of his disdain for him, nor had he ever bothered to hide his borderline-perverse interest in Inoue Orihime and her spiritual powers.
'Scratch that,' Ichigo silently rebuked himself, 'Ishida Orihime.'
"Is something the matter, Kurosaki-kun?" The disembodied spirit asked from behind a strained smile, "You look like you just bit down on a lemon..."
"It's nothing, Ishida-san," he quickly mumbled, watching as her face took on a sadder hue.
"Inoue," she chided him firmly, "Please call me Inoue. Like... Like you used to." Ichigo stared at her in puzzlement. What was this all about? Was it just nostalgia? Why did she sound kind of sad? Well, he figured she was probably sad because she'd just died, but the name thing was still a little weird. Either way, that was her choice.
"Sure thing, Inoue," he replied softly. She favored him with a watery smile in return.
But now came the hard part. What was he to do with her, now that she was dead? Obviously she had to go to Soul Society, but what then? Eventually, Kurotsuchi would figure out she was there and come after her - she did still have those hairpins in her hair, after all. And even if he didn't, Ichigo was loathe to let her wander around Rukongai by herself; he was confident she'd be fine in the upper districts, but what if she got assigned to the 80th district? He could always call on the Shiba family, but he wasn't really sure if he wanted to subject Orihime to Kuukaku's wrath on a daily basis.
And there was also a part of him that wanted her to stay with him, too, although he'd be loathe to say that out loud. She was still another man's wife, after all, and Ichigo was keenly aware that she would probably feel awkward if he stayed too close to her.
Really, that left him with one immediate option, at least until he could check and see if she could be enrolled into the shinigami academy.
"What are you thinking about, Kurosaki-kun?" Orihime suddenly asked, shaking Ichigo out of his stupor. He realized he must have been silent for longer than he'd thought he had, for now Orihime was peering at him with a look of genuine concern.
"Huh?" He replied, shaking off his torpor, "I-It's nothing, Inoue. Look, once I do this konso on you, I need you to follow my instructions, alright?" Orihime looked quite lucid, so he continued.
"I'll be taking the senkaimon back to Soul Society, so I can't go back the same way as you. When you arrive, you'll be at a way station of sorts. They'll give you a numbered ticket that'll assign you to a district where you're supposed to live from here on out. You with me so far?"
Orihime silently nodded her understanding, indicating that it was safe for Ichigo to continue.
"When the shinigami give you that number, don't go. I want you to wait for me by the Western Gate, the one Jidanbo guards. You remember where that's at, right?"
"U-Uhn," Orihime confirmed, a puzzled look on her face, "But what if the shinigami get mad at me for not going?" Ichigo's face looked as though he'd never considered this possibility before.
"If they try to force you, you can get Jidanbo," he said thoughtfully. He paused for a beat, and then: "Or you could tell them I gave you permission, that'll shut 'em up." He gave Orihime a cocky grin for reassurance, one he felt like he hadn't worn in years. In fact, the act of smiling even made his face ache a bit.
"Alright, Kurosaki-kun." Orihime returned his smile earnestly. It wasn't the one he remembered from ten years ago, by any stretch of the imagination. It was weak and felt tired, like she was only smiling to reassure him. Well, he could certainly relate to that, so he decided not to pursue the topic.
"You ready?" he asked quietly, his tall figure leaning over the smaller woman, "I promise I'll be gentle." If Orihime noticed any double-entendre there, she didn't let on as though she did. Instead, she let her eyes drift shut as she lifted her face to him.
"I'm ready."
__________________________________________________________________
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
She was supposed to start all over again in Rukongai, far far away from everyone who'd ever known her. She would have a house of her own, just like Kuukaku, and maybe even have a little black cat like Yoruichi, or a rambunctious little pig like Bonnie. She would have a little garden with corn and tomatoes and watermelon in the summer, with a well on the edge of the morning glory patch. And she'd wake up every day and stretch her arms up toward the sun, free and happy, and dance barefoot on her lawn.
Well, none of that was in the picture now. Fate had seen fit to waylay her with probably the very last person she'd hoped to see. As soon as she'd laid eyes on Kurosaki Ichigo again, in those familiar black robes she remembered from so long ago, all those plans had crumbled to dust. And Orihime wasn't entirely sure if she was upset about that or not.
Sure, she knew the right thing to do would be to remove herself from the picture as soon as possible. After all, he had Rukia and all his shinigami friends now; her presence would be more of a burden than anything. She wasn't needed here, and hadn't been for many years.
Even though she knew it was the right thing to do, the sight of her old crush's face, the sound of his voice, and his scent, all beckoned her to stay. Orihime silently cursed her traitorous heart, the one that was begging her to follow his instructions and see what he wanted. She found herself unable to protest his directions, even though her heart ached. What could he possibly want her to meet back up with him for? Wasn't his job done?
Thoughts snapping back to the present, Orihime regarded the slip of paper in her hand - district 73, Kuroito. The name sounded ominous, but she was sure it wasn't that bad. She briefly considered going on into the district, but just couldn't bring herself to; Ichigo would be really hurt if she did. But could she really face what she suspected awaited her when he arrived?
"Hey, newbie!" one of the shinigami orderlies barked at her, "Stop daydreaming and get a move on! You're gonna miss your transport!" She had been afraid of this.
"I-I'm sorry!" she stammered nervously, "I'm waiting on someone. I can't go yet." The attendant didn't look too pleased by this revelation. He crossed his arms across his chest with a snort.
"Just because you got a shitty ticket doesn't mean you get to stall," the shinigami brusquely informed her, "And if you're waiting on a family member, they ain't comin' for ya." Orihime shook her head fervently. She hoped this shinigami would just leave her alone; it had been literally years since she'd last used her powers, and she wasn't at all sure how well she'd be able to defend herself if it came down to it.
"It's not that," she protested, "Kurosaki-kun told me to wait for him by the Western Gate..." The shinigami stopped for a second before bursting out into laughter and turning to get his partner's attention.
"Check it out, Hijiri!" he said, his voice a jeer, "This chick says she's waiting on Kurosaki!" The shinigami named Hijiri could barely contain his mirth.
"Seriously?" he asked somewhat gleefully, "That ice queen? Didn't our captain beat his ass back in the day?"
"I heard he made him his bitch!" the original shinigami replied with a broad grin, "Only thing that saved him was that freaky mask of his!"
That comment struck a chord within Orihime. How dare they talk about Ichigo like that? How many times had he saved Soul Society and the people in it by now? She wasn't exactly sure, but even once was impressive.
"Don't talk about Kurosaki-kun like that," she said quietly, her fists trembling at her side.
"Pffth, what're you gonna do if we do?" the first shinigami sneered at her. He had obviously failed to immediately notice the gigantic reiatsu looming behind her at the moment.
"Talk about me like what?" the voice came from behind Orihime through gritted teeth, "If I find out you assholes have given Inoue any trouble..." They immediately took the hint and snapped their jaws shut.
"We weren't giving her any trouble!" Hijiri quickly said with a nervous smile. Ichigo's nostrils flared; Orihime wondered how much he'd heard and if he was trying to intimidate them on purpose.
"Good," Ichigo said down his nose at them, "I'd hate to let Byakuya know his guys were being jerk-asses to Inoue." This seemed to have the desired effect; the two men may not have respected Ichigo, but they definitely weren't about to cross their boss.
"Y-Yes, sir!" they said in unison. Orihime blinked up at the tense look Ichigo was directing at them before he turned his scowl to her.
"C'mon, Inoue," he started, turning towards Seireitei, "We've wasted enough time on these guys." Orihime nodded and turned to follow him as he moved in his intended direction.
"What a prick," the first shinigami muttered as soon as the two were out of earshot.
"At least he's got good taste in women," the one named Hijiri commented, his voice awestruck.
Ichigo and Orihime walked towards the Western Gate in silence, the only sounds being the soft padding of Ichigo's waraji and Orihime's flats against the dry grass.
"I thought you were going to the gate," Ichigo finally said, breaking the awkward silence.
"I'm sorry," Orihime apologized softly, "I wasn't fast enough. I made you wait." She was certain he was angry with her now. All he'd asked her to do was to go to the Western Gate, and she'd already screwed that up.
"Made me wait?" Ichigo asked incredulously, "You made me worry is what you did! I thought something happened to you!" Orihime felt her cheeks burn with shame; even in death, she was utterly incompetent! She felt the tell-tale prickle of tears just behind her sinuses. Hadn't she cried enough for one lifetime and beyond? And now she was about to cry in front of Ichigo, of all people! After not having seen him for ten years, the first thing she was going to do was cry!
She could no longer fight the feelings of helplessness and incompetence as silent tears coursed down Orihime's cheeks. She tried not to make a sound that would alert Ichigo to her distress, but as he stopped suddenly and turned to face her, she realized he could probably feel her unstable reiatsu anyway. Even worse, the look of abject horror he adopted upon seeing her tear-stained face made her actually begin to sob.
"Inoue, what?" Ichigo stood before her, shell-shocked. His face went pale and his fingers twitched as though they wanted very badly to do something and he wouldn't let them.
"I-I'm sorry!" Orihime blurted out, bringing her hands to her face to try and hide her tears, "N-Now you're angry at me and I only j-just got here-!"
If Orihime had been able to see Ichigo's face from behind her hands, she'd have seen a look of agony. He didn't stall much longer, though; Orihime stopped sobbing when she felt something brush her cheek.
She looked up to see Ichigo using the hem of his sleeve to wipe her face clean, his face still twisted into a grimace.
"I'm not mad at you, Inoue," he intoned softly, "So stop crying, alright? It's... It's awkward." She took her hands from her face and snapped to attention, some tears still escaping the corners of her eyes.
"I-I won't do it again!" she swore, her voice still shaky and her bottom lip trembling from the effort. Ichigo sighed.
"I didn't say you couldn't cry if you needed to," Ichigo explained, "I just don't want to be the one to cause it, you know?" Orihime nodded vigorously, not trusting her voice. She couldn't remember a time someone had told her it was okay to cry.
They continued on, reaching their destination after a few more minutes of walking. Orihime watched as Jidanbo hailed Ichigo in a cheery voice. She thought back to the time she'd healed his massive arm and wondered if he remembered her at all. It seemed like it had happened in another lifetime entirely. When was the last time she'd actually healed anyone, come to think of it? She found she couldn't recall.
"And who might this lovely young lady be?" he finally addressed her from where she was standing behind Ichigo, deep in thought. As soon as she realized he was talking to her, she snapped her head up and stepped from behind Ichigo.
"O-Oh, I'm-"
But before she could finish her sentence, Jidanbo's eye grew as large as buckets as he recognized the lady in front of him.
"Goodness me!" he bellowed, dropping to his knees and bowing to the ground, "It's really you! How many years has it been? Please forgive this lowly gatekeeper for not recognizing you sooner, milady!" Orihime blushed from the attention.
"A-Ah, that's not necessary-!" she protested, waving her hands before her chest and smiling nervously.
"Jeez, Jidanbo," Ichigo sighed, cleaning one ear with his pinky, "Cut the theatrics already, you're embarrassing her!" The giant stood again, but his face had broken out into a broad grin.
"My apologies, Inoue-san," he said happily, "It's just that it's been years since I last saw you!" Orihime realized that he'd used her maiden name and not her married one; had she forgotten to send him a notification? She hadn't sent that many out, and she was dead now anyway, so it was just as well to not bother with correcting him. Besides, Uryuu usually did it for her, and he wasn't here now, either. She smiled happily up at the giant in response.
"I'm sorry I didn't keep in touch!" Orihime said sincerely, "I'll correct that from now on!" At this, Jidanbo's expression grew perplexed.
"From now on?" he asked, scratching his large head, "Aren't you just here for a visit?" Ichigo blew out a huff of air as he scuffed the dirt.
"She's dead, you boob!" Ichigo announced in exasperation, "She's staying permanently!" Now it was Orihime's turn to look puzzled.
"I am?"
Ichigo straightened up at her query, a light blush creeping across his cheeks.
"Well, as long as you want, anyway," he corrected himself. Orihime seemed to accept this with a smile.
"I'm sorry to hear about your passing," Jidanbo ventured carefully, a slightly uncomfortable look on his face. She beamed up at him in return.
"I'm not!" she chirped, realizing a second too late that what she'd just said sounded incredibly off, "What I mean is, I'm looking forward to staying here from now on, so it's totally okay!" Both Jidanbo and Ichigo looked a bit bewildered, so Orihime simply rubbed her head and favored them with a sheepish smile.
"Anyway," Ichigo continued after another few seconds of awkward silence, "We gotta get going. I promise you can come back and chat later, Inoue." Then, turning to their gigantic friend: "Go ahead and open it up, Jidanbo." The giant gave Ichigo a grave nod before grabbing the bottom of the gate and hefting it up to his shoulder.
As soon as the gate crashed down behind them, Ichigo wordlessly began walking as Orihime followed. She had to walk quickly to keep up with his long strides, peeking shyly up at him as she did so. She had more than a few questions she wanted to ask him.
"A-Ano, Kurosaki-kun?" she finally ventured, " Where are we going?" He glanced down at her and slowed his pace so they could talk.
"Back to our division's barracks," he replied as though it was the simplest thing in the world, "I can put you up there for a little while, at least until you get on your feet." Orihime gave him a puzzled look.
"On my feet?" she asked, genuinely curious, "Are you sure it's okay, though? I'm not really a shinigami..."
"Until you decide if you're gonna take the entrance exam to the Academy, I guess," he said thoughtfully, scratching the tiny stubble on his chin.
'When did he get stubble?' Orihime thought, oddly intrigued by it.
"Oh," she responded dully, hardly registering that he hadn't answered her other question. As they walked, though, another question presented itself to her, one that had truthfully gnawed at her for years.
"Umm," she began hesitantly, not quite sure how to phrase it, "How is Kuchiki-san?" Her voice was laced with trepidation; she hoped Ichigo didn't notice.
"You mean Rukia, right?" he asked, his tone suggesting he'd felt the need to make sure she wasn't asking after Byakuya for some odd reason. Orihime nodded, worrying her bottom lip as she waited on his answer
"She's alright, I guess," he said with a shrug, "Same as always, really. She usually either hangs out in her division or with Renji or her brother." Orihime gave him a puzzled look; maybe he meant that was what she did when they weren't together?
"You mean when she's not with you?" Orihime ventured. Her voice was light and innocently inquisitive, but she was actually speaking around a lump in her throat. Worse, she could feel those tears prickling her eyesockets again. Suddenly, she didn't want to be here anymore. Maybe she should've listened to those two shinigami after all.
"Eh?" Ichigo answered, confusion tinting his voice, "I actually don't see her that much anymore. We're both too busy with our divisions to hang out like teenagers, really." Orihime blinked away her building tears, feeling that old, seizing pain in her chest abate somewhat. Who knew even spirits could have heartache like that?
"If you wanted to see her, I could call her over later?" Ichigo ventured, his eyebrow quirking as he looked down at her. Orihime hoped he hadn't noticed her momentary, fading distress.
"U-Uhn!" she replied with only a bit of forced happiness this time, "I haven't seen her in a long time!" 'A really long time,' Orihime finished mentally. She'd fallen out of contact with most of her shinigami friends shortly after the wedding. What was the point of letting them see her face anymore? They'd only worry.
"Well, we're here," Ichigo said, breaking the awkward, gloomy silence as he came to a stop in front the divisional barracks. Orihime looked up from where the dust swirled around Ichigo's waraji to see the diamond above the entrance-way to the long, low building. The large, black kanji for the number five looked back down at her.
"Fifth Division?" Orihime asked, "Isn't that the division Aizen..." Ichigo snorted, tilting his chin away from Orihime in disdain.
"We don't say that name around here," he informed her brusquely, "It upsets Momo." Orihime blinked, recalling vaguely the frail girl she'd last seen almost ten years ago. Maybe, because they lived longer, hurts took longer for shinigami to heal?
'Maybe that's not exclusive to shinigami,' she thought ruefully.
"C'mon," Ichigo said, motioning up the steps with his head, "Come inside. I'll show you around."
He led her through the dining hall and the kitchens, showing her where their meals were prepared. He introduced her to the cooks, three stout old ladies who took an immediate liking to Orihime and did their best to make her feel comfortable. Then he led her through the laundry room and showed her the giant washtubs they used. Even though Ichigo admitted they were out of date to human world standards, Orihime thought they were quaint and charming. She even climbed inside one to see just how big it was.
They went through the training grounds, some of the barracks (she was to get her own room in the female wing after he finished showing her around), the linen issue, and finally the divisional offices.
"This is where Momo and our third seat, Hanbei, work," he said, pointing to their desks, each aligned parallel with a wall of the long room. There were other desks, bookshelves, filing cabinets, even a coffee maker; all of the trappings of a traditional office, really, only slightly more antiquated. Everything but the coffee maker seemed to have come directly from the Taisho era. As for the little brewing contraption, Orihime thought it looked strikingly out of place in the old-fashioned office. She reasoned that it couldn't have been more than a year old at most.
Before she could comment on it, Ichigo began walking towards a sliding door at the northern end of the room.
"And back here is the Captain's Office," he said, sliding the door open and walking inside. Orihime followed him, jaw agape.
"K-Kurosaki-kun!" she flailed, sliding the door shut behind them, "You... You can't just walk in like that, can you?" Ichigo threw her a puzzled look.
"Why not?" he asked, rummaging through one of the drawers for something. Orihime wondered if it was possible for her to die again, this time of a heart attack. If his captain caught them in here, they'd be in so much trouble!
"Won't... Won't your captain be mad?" she asked, her voice taking on a nervous timbre, "You just walked right in and started going through their things!" Ichigo finally found the white cloth he was looking for and pulled it out of the drawer. As he pushed his arms through the cut-off sleeve holes, Orihime could clearly see the kanji for 'five' silk-screened on the back, with the kanji for 'one' hand-painted above it. It spelled "Ichigo", with numbers.
"Dummy," he chided her warmly, turning to face her from behind the large, wooden desk, "The captain doesn't care because I am the captain."
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Date: 2010-08-18 04:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-18 06:26 pm (UTC)