I like this fic more than is healthy.
Aug. 7th, 2010 02:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
queenofchalicesTitle: Til Death Do Us Part: Chapter Three- Old Friends and New Offices
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.
_____________________________________________
Orihime stood in awe as Ichigo slipped on his Captain's haori.
"You're... You're the Captain? Of Fifth Division?" she asked hesitantly, the words sounding odd on her tongue. Ichigo cocked an eyebrow and folded his arms, looking unimpressed with her question.
"Don't sound so surprised or anything," he said, sarcasm lacing his voice. Orihime favored him with a wobbly smile.
"Oh, it's... it's not that I'm surprised," she stammered, her little hands flailing in front of her, "Well, I mean, I am, but what I mean is that I didn't realize it before!"
Even though she was smiling and chuckling nervously, Orihime felt her heart twist in her chest. Ichigo was a Captain. It felt once again like he was leaving her behind to be a part of a world she could never join. In ten years, he had become a Captain of the Gotei 13; what had she done? Dropped out of college and cooked progressively more boring food? She once again felt wholly inadequate to even be near him.
"No, it's alright," Ichigo said with a sigh, "This position is basically compensation anyway." Now it was Orihime's turn to give him a curious look.
"Compensation? For what?" Ichigo looked at her as though she'd gone mad.
"What do you mean, 'for what'?" Ichigo asked with a hint of irritation, before taking a breath and looking down, "Right, you... You don't know. Sorry. I forgot." Orihime looked thoroughly ashamed to have upset him, but he bravely soldiered on anyway.
"They sequestered me here after everything was over," Ichigo muttered bitterly, "Giving me the Captainship was just a political move to make it look like my service to Soul Society was valued and to keep me out of trouble. I guess Yama-jii thought paperwork would make me settle down." Orihime's eyes and mouth grew progressively wider as he spoke.
"Then you... didn't run away to Soul Society on your own?" Orihime asked, her voice holding a wavering, tremulous pitch.
"Tch, no," Ichigo scoffed, "My home was back in Karakura. My whole life was there. That was the place I belonged. But my body's been dead a while now. I can't go back."
"Then you..." she began again, her voice shaking, "You didn't run away to be with Kuchiki-san?" Ichigo looked as though he might fall over.
"With... that midget?!" he bellowed, unable to contain the incredulity in his voice, "Why would I-? Why would you-? What on earth would give you that idea!?"
Orihime, meanwhile, was riding a turbulent roller-coaster of emotions while Ichigo sputtered. She knew she should be happy she was mistaken all this time. When she had first thought Ichigo and her shinigami friend had run away together ten years prior, she had forced herself to smile and bear it and pretend to be happy for them. But the truth was, she'd felt worthless and inferior, completely unworthy of love. She had also felt betrayed and ignored. She tried not to blame Rukia - perhaps she hadn't known that Orihime had been nursing a deep crush on Ichigo for the better part of a year - but it still hurt even to see the black-haired shinigami whenever she came to Earth. And eventually, she just stopped coming around at all. Just like everyone else.
So by rights, she should have felt relieved, even ecstatic, that she had been mistaken all this time. And it was true that some part of her did. Ichigo had never wanted to come to Soul Society and Rukia had never betrayed her; that alone was cause for joy. But the larger part of her felt utterly stupid and pathetic. If she had just believed in Ichigo and Rukia, her life wouldn't have been as worthless and painful as it had been for the past ten years. All this pain could have been avoided and things would never have gotten to this point.
"I-Inoue, what?" Ichigo said, his sputtered ranting having been replaced with awkward concern, "D-Don't cry! Please! I-I just don't feel that way about Rukia, it's nothing to get upset over!"
Well, that certainly didn't have the effect Ichigo clearly intended it to have. Instead, it caused Orihime to visibly sob. And that only led to more heavily awkward attempts to console her.
"Captain? What's going on? I heard cryi--"
The sentence hung in mid-air as the black-haired girl with her hair tied into a bun stepped inside the office, leaving the door wide open behind her. "I-Isn't that--?"
"Yeah," Ichigo said quietly, removing his haori, "Shut the door behind you, Momo." He draped the white coat over the crying woman's shoulders as she sniffled, trying to erase the evidence of her embarrassing outburst. Even though Orihime's nose was now stopped up from crying, she could still smell Ichigo on his coat. Before she knew it, though, the shorter woman was standing right in front of her with a gentle smile on her face.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Orihime-san," she said with a small bow, "I'm Hinamori Momo, Kurosaki-taichou's lieutenant. Would you like me to make you some hot tea?" Orihime was so distracted by the girl's cheerful nature and straight-forward speech that she forgot to cry.
"U-Uhn!" she said with a nod, earning her another smile.
"Alright, I'll be right back," Momo said happily, turning back toward the door.
"Don't use the coffee maker this time," Ichigo groused, "It's only for coffee, it doesn't make tea!" Orihime watched in fascination as the girl turned to stick her tongue out at her Captain.
"I'm just going to use it to heat the water, Captain!" she fussed, "It's easier than boiling a tea kettle!" Ichigo crossed his arms and huffed as the door slid shut.
"I swear," he grumbled, "Last time she made tea, my coffee tasted like matcha for a week afterward." Orihime looked up at him in amusement, most of her earlier distress gone.
"She seems very nice," she informed him. Ichigo sighed and fluffed his hair with his hand.
"She is," he agreed wearily, "Momo's like a mom to us all, really. She just gets fussy at me when I don't do things her way. Reminds me of Yuzu, really." Orihime allowed a small smile to cross her face; she hadn't seen Ichigo's sisters since the wedding.
"I can see the resemblance," she said quietly, watching curiously as Ichigo started to pull a chair around from the side of the room for her. "What are you doing?"
"Sit," he commanded, bumping the back of her knees with the chair and forcing her to comply, "If she comes back and you're still standing, she'll nag my ear off."
"I heard that!" Momo's faint voice came from the other side of the wall, causing Ichigo to flinch. Orihime was simply dumbfounded. They seemed so much like a cute little family that she couldn't help but giggle.
"Feeling better?" Ichigo asked, drawing Orihime's attention. He was kneeling before her and smiling now, one of those rare, gentle smiles that she loved so dearly when they were teenagers. She returned his expression with a nod as she drew his haori closer around her.
"Yes," she answered softly, "Thank you. I-I'm sorry I keep crying everywhere, it's just that... today has been kind of stressful..." Ichigo gave her a dumbfounded look.
"You just died," he said matter-of-factly, "Most people find that stressful." Orihime couldn't help but bring a hand to her mouth as a choked giggle escaped her. She had forgotten how easily Ichigo could distract her from her problems.
While they waited, Orihime found her hand held firmly between Ichigo's warm, large ones. He didn't even ask if he could, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. He seemed to be studying her little hand, looking at the thin, pale skin and the blue veins underneath. She guessed that even though she was now dead, her heart still beat just like it ever did.
Ichigo didn't look up at her, though. He seemed completely absorbed in the hands in her lap. His head was even hung low, shading his eyes from sight. That was okay by her; Orihime didn't particularly feel like lifting her head anyway. The strangest part, though, was that the silence seemed perfectly comfortable.
But the prolonged silence also made Orihime realize something. For the first time, Orihime really realized that Ichigo was hurting as much as she was, maybe even more. He'd never asked to be stuck here. He didn't even really want to be a Captain. Who would want all that responsibility right out of high school? For all intents and purposes, Soul Society had killed him at sixteen. And she was so caught up in her own problems that she failed to notice it immediately. A sudden wave of guilt overtook her for her momentary blindness.
The silence was broken by Momo returning with a tray of tea and snacks. Ichigo immediately let go of Orihime's hand, snapping his arms to his side and wobbling awkwardly. She noted the dusting of pink across his nose and idly wondered if Momo would tease him if she caught him holding her hand.
"Here we go!" the black-haired girl chirped happily, setting a cup down in front of Orihime on the desk, "I brought some shortbread cookies and green tea mochi, too. Do you want to try some?"
"A-Ah, thank you," Orihime said softly, reaching for the tea, "Yes, please." As she brought the cup to her lips, Ichigo stood and walked to the other side of the desk.
"Here, set it on this when you're done," Ichigo said, placing a sheaf of paperwork on the desk where Orihime's tea had just sat.
"Captain!" Momo scolded, putting her little fists on her hips, "Don't just use your paperwork as a coaster!" Ichigo snorted and folded his arms.
"It's not like First Division cares," he grunted, sitting across from Orihime and leaning back in his chair. Orihime watched the bickering duo in amusement. "Besides, this desk is brand new. I don't want rings on it."
Momo looked decidedly unimpressed by Ichigo's reasoning, and a second later she was out the door, hands on hips. Ichigo stood and leaned over his desk, annoyed.
"O-Oi, get back here!" he barked, "I need you to do something for me!" Momo returned a few seconds later, clicking a coaster down on Ichigo's desk in front of Orihime.
"There," she said firmly, "Now, what did you need?"
________________________________________________________________
"I-Is this really okay?" Orihime asked trepidatiously.
"At least he's using his own account this time instead of the Divisional fund," Momo answered, ducking her head with a small laugh.
"Kurosaki-kun is using his own money for this?" Orihime returned in fascination. Momo shrugged.
"I guess he figures this is personal and not Division related," she said, looking in the shop windows as they passed by.
Orihime followed Momo's eyes to the shop mannequins, dressed in outrageously expensive kimono. She didn't think she'd ever owned anything that expensive in her life, nor ever would.
"M-Momo-san," Orihime whispered, ignoring the looks her living world clothing was drawing from the passing shinigami and tugging on Momo's sleeve, "Are you sure we're in the right area of town? Everything here looks so... expensive."
"It is a bit pricey, isn't it?" she answered, looking again at the written address in her hand - yep, definitely First Ward - and then looking back up at the glamorous kimono in the window before them. "I'm sure this is the place, though. He must be going all out..."
Orihime blushed at that thought. She didn't understand why Ichigo hadn't just given her a shihakushou like the ones the shinigami wore; that was sufficient to not get her stared at, right? Instead, he'd sent Momo shopping with her in one of the most expensive districts in Seireitei. Orihime felt so inadequate next to the fashionably dressed shinigami women walking up and down the street that she simply wanted to hide.
"Ori... Orihime-chan?!"
Orihime's head swung up to see who'd called her just in time for her face to be buried in the exposed flesh visible between the taller woman's open collar.
"Orihime-chan, it's really you!" Rangiku said, smooshing Orihime to her breasts, "How long has it been? Four years? Five? Oh my goodness, how are you? Let me look at you!" As she drew back to get a good look at the smaller red-haired woman, Momo shook her head.
"She's dead, Rangiku," Momo said evenly, "She just got here." Rangiku's face registered her mild surprise immediately.
"Where's your Captain?" Rangiku asked, perhaps a bit too quickly, "He'd definitely want to see her!" Orihime gave Rangiku a puzzled look, but she was more concerned with her conversation with Momo; she still hadn't released Orihime all the way, though.
"He sent us here to find her some clothes," Momo informed her, showing her Ichigo's silver Captain's charge card. Rangiku immediately snatched it out of Momo's grasp to examine it greedily.
"You mean Stingy-taichou is actually springing for something for once?" she asked, fascinated, "He doesn't even take me out drinking more than once a month!" Momo cast a quick look in Orihime's direction before snatching the card back from Rangiku.
"Don't talk about that right now," Momo said shortly, causing Orihime to cock her head at her tone. Rangiku simply smiled and began to lead Orihime down the street by her hand.
"Alright, alright," she placated the smaller woman, "Ne, Orihime-chan, let's go in here! They cater to bigger girls like us!"
As Orihime was pulled along behind the blonde, she caught a glimpse of Momo's worried expression while she followed. Was she really that worried about what Rangiku would buy?
__________________________________________________________________
"What the hell is this?!"
Orihime flinched and looked down at the stack of boxes in her hands. She couldn't meet Ichigo's angry gaze. It was alright, though; Rangiku was more than happy to meet it for her.
"I thought we were supposed to buy her some clothes!" Rangiku happily supplied, oblivious to Ichigo's ire, "You obviously wanted her to look nice if you sent her to the First Ward to shop!"
"I wanted her to look nice," Ichigo countered, "I didn't want you to drain my bank account to do it!"
Momo had abandoned them as soon as they'd entered the office. She was fully aware of the kind of chewing out Rangiku was in for. Still, Orihime wished she hadn't left. She was shaking like a leaf; she felt awful about spending too much of Ichigo's money and hadn't wanted to face Ichigo's wrath without her.
"Honestly," Rangiku sighed, "Don't be so cheap! Orihime-chan is going to be the best-dressed girl in Seireitei!"
"I'm sorry!" Orihime blurted out, bowing over the packages, "I-I'll return everything!"
This served to stop the argument dead in its tracks. Both Ichigo and Rangiku turned to look at Orihime, who still hadn't lifted her head from her bow. If she had looked up, she'd have seen that both of them looked quite surprised.
"No, you... you don't have to return anything, Inoue," Ichigo finally said, stunned, "It's not your fault." His eyebrows rose as he watched her peek timidly up at him from beneath her thick lashes. Slowly, she unfurled from her deep bow.
"Now look what you did, Ichigo!" Rangiku scolded him, "You scared her!" Ichigo slammed his hands on his desk, his fury reignited.
"Who the hell's fault is that!?" he yelled, shaking the desk with his anger. Then, after a few calming breaths, he turned back to Orihime to address her again. "Get Momo to help you take your things to your room and get dressed. I want to see if they fit you."
Orihime bowed again, mumbling another thank you, before quickly excusing herself.
"Stop yelling in front of her," Rangiku hissed as soon as Orihime shut the door behind her.
"Why do you think I sent her out of the room?" Ichigo huffed, flopping into his chair and cradling his head in his hands. "She keeps crying over nothing and I don't know what to do! I wouldn't even know what to do if she was her normal, cheerful self!"
"What do you mean, you don't know what to do?" Rangiku asked harshly, leaning over Ichigo's desk and getting her feminine assets a bit too close to his face for his liking. "You still like her, don't you? Be a man and make a move!"
"She's married, Rangiku," he replied dully, looking up at her through spread fingers, "She's even married to a friend. That's wrong. It's cheating." Rangiku huffed and gave him an incredulous look as she put her hands on her hips.
"First of all," she said, "She's dead. Most people generally consider that the end of their marriage. Secondly, it's pretty obvious that Quincy didn't make her happy." Ichigo's brows knitted at that remark.
"Their marriage is none of my business," Ichigo replied shortly. He didn't even want to think about his two friends' marriage, much less the fact that he had fantasized about his friend's wife. Repeatedly.
"If you like her and she's here, then it's your business," Rangiku said, irritation evident in her voice, "Besides, you obviously only sent her to the First Ward to shop because you wanted to see her dressed up." Rangiku stood back and crossed her arms, satisfied with her conclusion. Ichigo, on the other hand, flushed and sputtered, completely unsettled by her keen observation.
"I sent her there because I thought it'd make her happy!" he replied shakily, "Girls like shopping in expensive stores, right?" This did nothing to erase the smug look on Rangiku's face.
"Yet you let me spend everything on your card on her and won't even ask her to return anything," Rangiku nodded to herself, satisfied with her own logic, "If a man actually spent several hundred thousand kan on me at once, even I might be tempted to settle down!"
At the mention of all the money she'd spent, Ichigo went through several different colors, cycling through pale white to peach, to pink, to sunburnt, before finally settling on bright, cherry red.
"That's... that's like six months' salary!" Ichigo practically squawked, nearly hyperventilating as he stood. Rangiku looked unfazed.
"It's not like you ever actually spend anything, you cheapskate," she scolded, "Besides, if you want to win Orihime-chan back, you should be prepared to show her a good time."
"She's not greedy like some women I could mention," Ichigo spat, leaning over his desk, "Besides, who said I'm trying to win her over?! I already told you, she's marri--"
"Right, right," Rangiku dismissed his protests with a wave of her hand, "Get back to me when you man up and grow a pair, Ichigo." And with that, she turned to leave a flabbergasted Ichigo to steam behind his desk.
"It's Kurosaki-taichou to you, dammit," he yelled before continuing, "And if I see you borrowing so much as an obiage from her, I'll have Toushirou write you up!" That stopped Rangiku in her tracks. She turned back to look at him, horror stricken.
"You wouldn't dare!" she cried, "Borrowing clothes is a female tradition!" Ichigo allowed an evil smirk to stretch across his face.
"Oh, I dare alright," he said, happy that he'd figured out some of Rangiku's motivation from her little shopping spree, "Now get out of here before I tell him what you did anyway."
Rangiku pouted before heading out the door, nearly running into Orihime and Momo on the way out.
"So cruel!" she cried before turning to Orihime, "Orihime-chan, maybe you can redeem this awful man! The Gotei 13 would owe you a debt of gratitude!" Rangiku tossed a pleased smirk over her shoulder as she slipped out, happy with the sputtering she'd induced in Ichigo. Orihime just blushed and looked at her toes.
But as soon as Ichigo took stock of Orihime's appearance, all sputtering stopped. Momo had helped her into a pale yellow yukata decorated with pink flowers, an informal powder blue obi cinching the outfit closed around her waist. She was even wearing a cute little kanzashi on one side of her hair. The cheerful pattern and light colors, combined with the loose cascade of hair falling over her shoulder, made her look younger than she should have, reminding Ichigo intensely of their high school days. More than that, he realized almost immediately that it was flashier than what a married woman should be wearing.
Ichigo silently cursed Rangiku. She must have picked this yukata out on purpose, knowing it would make Orihime look young, pretty, and available. That meddling woman was going to be the death of him; he already felt light-headed and like his face was on fire.
"This was the simplest thing we got," Momo said with a touch of regret, "I'm not exactly sure if it's something she'd want to wear every day, though..."
"I-It's fine," Ichigo said, his mouth stuffed with cotton, "It's pretty flashy, but... it... looks good on you, Inoue." Ichigo mentally kicked himself as she peeked up at him shyly.
"Th-Thank you, Kurosaki-kun."
Part of Ichigo knew he could get used to Orihime walking around his barracks dressed like that. The other, more rational part of him, however, knew that he was liable to die prematurely of simple unresolved sexual tension.
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.
_____________________________________________
Orihime stood in awe as Ichigo slipped on his Captain's haori.
"You're... You're the Captain? Of Fifth Division?" she asked hesitantly, the words sounding odd on her tongue. Ichigo cocked an eyebrow and folded his arms, looking unimpressed with her question.
"Don't sound so surprised or anything," he said, sarcasm lacing his voice. Orihime favored him with a wobbly smile.
"Oh, it's... it's not that I'm surprised," she stammered, her little hands flailing in front of her, "Well, I mean, I am, but what I mean is that I didn't realize it before!"
Even though she was smiling and chuckling nervously, Orihime felt her heart twist in her chest. Ichigo was a Captain. It felt once again like he was leaving her behind to be a part of a world she could never join. In ten years, he had become a Captain of the Gotei 13; what had she done? Dropped out of college and cooked progressively more boring food? She once again felt wholly inadequate to even be near him.
"No, it's alright," Ichigo said with a sigh, "This position is basically compensation anyway." Now it was Orihime's turn to give him a curious look.
"Compensation? For what?" Ichigo looked at her as though she'd gone mad.
"What do you mean, 'for what'?" Ichigo asked with a hint of irritation, before taking a breath and looking down, "Right, you... You don't know. Sorry. I forgot." Orihime looked thoroughly ashamed to have upset him, but he bravely soldiered on anyway.
"They sequestered me here after everything was over," Ichigo muttered bitterly, "Giving me the Captainship was just a political move to make it look like my service to Soul Society was valued and to keep me out of trouble. I guess Yama-jii thought paperwork would make me settle down." Orihime's eyes and mouth grew progressively wider as he spoke.
"Then you... didn't run away to Soul Society on your own?" Orihime asked, her voice holding a wavering, tremulous pitch.
"Tch, no," Ichigo scoffed, "My home was back in Karakura. My whole life was there. That was the place I belonged. But my body's been dead a while now. I can't go back."
"Then you..." she began again, her voice shaking, "You didn't run away to be with Kuchiki-san?" Ichigo looked as though he might fall over.
"With... that midget?!" he bellowed, unable to contain the incredulity in his voice, "Why would I-? Why would you-? What on earth would give you that idea!?"
Orihime, meanwhile, was riding a turbulent roller-coaster of emotions while Ichigo sputtered. She knew she should be happy she was mistaken all this time. When she had first thought Ichigo and her shinigami friend had run away together ten years prior, she had forced herself to smile and bear it and pretend to be happy for them. But the truth was, she'd felt worthless and inferior, completely unworthy of love. She had also felt betrayed and ignored. She tried not to blame Rukia - perhaps she hadn't known that Orihime had been nursing a deep crush on Ichigo for the better part of a year - but it still hurt even to see the black-haired shinigami whenever she came to Earth. And eventually, she just stopped coming around at all. Just like everyone else.
So by rights, she should have felt relieved, even ecstatic, that she had been mistaken all this time. And it was true that some part of her did. Ichigo had never wanted to come to Soul Society and Rukia had never betrayed her; that alone was cause for joy. But the larger part of her felt utterly stupid and pathetic. If she had just believed in Ichigo and Rukia, her life wouldn't have been as worthless and painful as it had been for the past ten years. All this pain could have been avoided and things would never have gotten to this point.
"I-Inoue, what?" Ichigo said, his sputtered ranting having been replaced with awkward concern, "D-Don't cry! Please! I-I just don't feel that way about Rukia, it's nothing to get upset over!"
Well, that certainly didn't have the effect Ichigo clearly intended it to have. Instead, it caused Orihime to visibly sob. And that only led to more heavily awkward attempts to console her.
"Captain? What's going on? I heard cryi--"
The sentence hung in mid-air as the black-haired girl with her hair tied into a bun stepped inside the office, leaving the door wide open behind her. "I-Isn't that--?"
"Yeah," Ichigo said quietly, removing his haori, "Shut the door behind you, Momo." He draped the white coat over the crying woman's shoulders as she sniffled, trying to erase the evidence of her embarrassing outburst. Even though Orihime's nose was now stopped up from crying, she could still smell Ichigo on his coat. Before she knew it, though, the shorter woman was standing right in front of her with a gentle smile on her face.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Orihime-san," she said with a small bow, "I'm Hinamori Momo, Kurosaki-taichou's lieutenant. Would you like me to make you some hot tea?" Orihime was so distracted by the girl's cheerful nature and straight-forward speech that she forgot to cry.
"U-Uhn!" she said with a nod, earning her another smile.
"Alright, I'll be right back," Momo said happily, turning back toward the door.
"Don't use the coffee maker this time," Ichigo groused, "It's only for coffee, it doesn't make tea!" Orihime watched in fascination as the girl turned to stick her tongue out at her Captain.
"I'm just going to use it to heat the water, Captain!" she fussed, "It's easier than boiling a tea kettle!" Ichigo crossed his arms and huffed as the door slid shut.
"I swear," he grumbled, "Last time she made tea, my coffee tasted like matcha for a week afterward." Orihime looked up at him in amusement, most of her earlier distress gone.
"She seems very nice," she informed him. Ichigo sighed and fluffed his hair with his hand.
"She is," he agreed wearily, "Momo's like a mom to us all, really. She just gets fussy at me when I don't do things her way. Reminds me of Yuzu, really." Orihime allowed a small smile to cross her face; she hadn't seen Ichigo's sisters since the wedding.
"I can see the resemblance," she said quietly, watching curiously as Ichigo started to pull a chair around from the side of the room for her. "What are you doing?"
"Sit," he commanded, bumping the back of her knees with the chair and forcing her to comply, "If she comes back and you're still standing, she'll nag my ear off."
"I heard that!" Momo's faint voice came from the other side of the wall, causing Ichigo to flinch. Orihime was simply dumbfounded. They seemed so much like a cute little family that she couldn't help but giggle.
"Feeling better?" Ichigo asked, drawing Orihime's attention. He was kneeling before her and smiling now, one of those rare, gentle smiles that she loved so dearly when they were teenagers. She returned his expression with a nod as she drew his haori closer around her.
"Yes," she answered softly, "Thank you. I-I'm sorry I keep crying everywhere, it's just that... today has been kind of stressful..." Ichigo gave her a dumbfounded look.
"You just died," he said matter-of-factly, "Most people find that stressful." Orihime couldn't help but bring a hand to her mouth as a choked giggle escaped her. She had forgotten how easily Ichigo could distract her from her problems.
While they waited, Orihime found her hand held firmly between Ichigo's warm, large ones. He didn't even ask if he could, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. He seemed to be studying her little hand, looking at the thin, pale skin and the blue veins underneath. She guessed that even though she was now dead, her heart still beat just like it ever did.
Ichigo didn't look up at her, though. He seemed completely absorbed in the hands in her lap. His head was even hung low, shading his eyes from sight. That was okay by her; Orihime didn't particularly feel like lifting her head anyway. The strangest part, though, was that the silence seemed perfectly comfortable.
But the prolonged silence also made Orihime realize something. For the first time, Orihime really realized that Ichigo was hurting as much as she was, maybe even more. He'd never asked to be stuck here. He didn't even really want to be a Captain. Who would want all that responsibility right out of high school? For all intents and purposes, Soul Society had killed him at sixteen. And she was so caught up in her own problems that she failed to notice it immediately. A sudden wave of guilt overtook her for her momentary blindness.
The silence was broken by Momo returning with a tray of tea and snacks. Ichigo immediately let go of Orihime's hand, snapping his arms to his side and wobbling awkwardly. She noted the dusting of pink across his nose and idly wondered if Momo would tease him if she caught him holding her hand.
"Here we go!" the black-haired girl chirped happily, setting a cup down in front of Orihime on the desk, "I brought some shortbread cookies and green tea mochi, too. Do you want to try some?"
"A-Ah, thank you," Orihime said softly, reaching for the tea, "Yes, please." As she brought the cup to her lips, Ichigo stood and walked to the other side of the desk.
"Here, set it on this when you're done," Ichigo said, placing a sheaf of paperwork on the desk where Orihime's tea had just sat.
"Captain!" Momo scolded, putting her little fists on her hips, "Don't just use your paperwork as a coaster!" Ichigo snorted and folded his arms.
"It's not like First Division cares," he grunted, sitting across from Orihime and leaning back in his chair. Orihime watched the bickering duo in amusement. "Besides, this desk is brand new. I don't want rings on it."
Momo looked decidedly unimpressed by Ichigo's reasoning, and a second later she was out the door, hands on hips. Ichigo stood and leaned over his desk, annoyed.
"O-Oi, get back here!" he barked, "I need you to do something for me!" Momo returned a few seconds later, clicking a coaster down on Ichigo's desk in front of Orihime.
"There," she said firmly, "Now, what did you need?"
________________________________________________________________
"I-Is this really okay?" Orihime asked trepidatiously.
"At least he's using his own account this time instead of the Divisional fund," Momo answered, ducking her head with a small laugh.
"Kurosaki-kun is using his own money for this?" Orihime returned in fascination. Momo shrugged.
"I guess he figures this is personal and not Division related," she said, looking in the shop windows as they passed by.
Orihime followed Momo's eyes to the shop mannequins, dressed in outrageously expensive kimono. She didn't think she'd ever owned anything that expensive in her life, nor ever would.
"M-Momo-san," Orihime whispered, ignoring the looks her living world clothing was drawing from the passing shinigami and tugging on Momo's sleeve, "Are you sure we're in the right area of town? Everything here looks so... expensive."
"It is a bit pricey, isn't it?" she answered, looking again at the written address in her hand - yep, definitely First Ward - and then looking back up at the glamorous kimono in the window before them. "I'm sure this is the place, though. He must be going all out..."
Orihime blushed at that thought. She didn't understand why Ichigo hadn't just given her a shihakushou like the ones the shinigami wore; that was sufficient to not get her stared at, right? Instead, he'd sent Momo shopping with her in one of the most expensive districts in Seireitei. Orihime felt so inadequate next to the fashionably dressed shinigami women walking up and down the street that she simply wanted to hide.
"Ori... Orihime-chan?!"
Orihime's head swung up to see who'd called her just in time for her face to be buried in the exposed flesh visible between the taller woman's open collar.
"Orihime-chan, it's really you!" Rangiku said, smooshing Orihime to her breasts, "How long has it been? Four years? Five? Oh my goodness, how are you? Let me look at you!" As she drew back to get a good look at the smaller red-haired woman, Momo shook her head.
"She's dead, Rangiku," Momo said evenly, "She just got here." Rangiku's face registered her mild surprise immediately.
"Where's your Captain?" Rangiku asked, perhaps a bit too quickly, "He'd definitely want to see her!" Orihime gave Rangiku a puzzled look, but she was more concerned with her conversation with Momo; she still hadn't released Orihime all the way, though.
"He sent us here to find her some clothes," Momo informed her, showing her Ichigo's silver Captain's charge card. Rangiku immediately snatched it out of Momo's grasp to examine it greedily.
"You mean Stingy-taichou is actually springing for something for once?" she asked, fascinated, "He doesn't even take me out drinking more than once a month!" Momo cast a quick look in Orihime's direction before snatching the card back from Rangiku.
"Don't talk about that right now," Momo said shortly, causing Orihime to cock her head at her tone. Rangiku simply smiled and began to lead Orihime down the street by her hand.
"Alright, alright," she placated the smaller woman, "Ne, Orihime-chan, let's go in here! They cater to bigger girls like us!"
As Orihime was pulled along behind the blonde, she caught a glimpse of Momo's worried expression while she followed. Was she really that worried about what Rangiku would buy?
__________________________________________________________________
"What the hell is this?!"
Orihime flinched and looked down at the stack of boxes in her hands. She couldn't meet Ichigo's angry gaze. It was alright, though; Rangiku was more than happy to meet it for her.
"I thought we were supposed to buy her some clothes!" Rangiku happily supplied, oblivious to Ichigo's ire, "You obviously wanted her to look nice if you sent her to the First Ward to shop!"
"I wanted her to look nice," Ichigo countered, "I didn't want you to drain my bank account to do it!"
Momo had abandoned them as soon as they'd entered the office. She was fully aware of the kind of chewing out Rangiku was in for. Still, Orihime wished she hadn't left. She was shaking like a leaf; she felt awful about spending too much of Ichigo's money and hadn't wanted to face Ichigo's wrath without her.
"Honestly," Rangiku sighed, "Don't be so cheap! Orihime-chan is going to be the best-dressed girl in Seireitei!"
"I'm sorry!" Orihime blurted out, bowing over the packages, "I-I'll return everything!"
This served to stop the argument dead in its tracks. Both Ichigo and Rangiku turned to look at Orihime, who still hadn't lifted her head from her bow. If she had looked up, she'd have seen that both of them looked quite surprised.
"No, you... you don't have to return anything, Inoue," Ichigo finally said, stunned, "It's not your fault." His eyebrows rose as he watched her peek timidly up at him from beneath her thick lashes. Slowly, she unfurled from her deep bow.
"Now look what you did, Ichigo!" Rangiku scolded him, "You scared her!" Ichigo slammed his hands on his desk, his fury reignited.
"Who the hell's fault is that!?" he yelled, shaking the desk with his anger. Then, after a few calming breaths, he turned back to Orihime to address her again. "Get Momo to help you take your things to your room and get dressed. I want to see if they fit you."
Orihime bowed again, mumbling another thank you, before quickly excusing herself.
"Stop yelling in front of her," Rangiku hissed as soon as Orihime shut the door behind her.
"Why do you think I sent her out of the room?" Ichigo huffed, flopping into his chair and cradling his head in his hands. "She keeps crying over nothing and I don't know what to do! I wouldn't even know what to do if she was her normal, cheerful self!"
"What do you mean, you don't know what to do?" Rangiku asked harshly, leaning over Ichigo's desk and getting her feminine assets a bit too close to his face for his liking. "You still like her, don't you? Be a man and make a move!"
"She's married, Rangiku," he replied dully, looking up at her through spread fingers, "She's even married to a friend. That's wrong. It's cheating." Rangiku huffed and gave him an incredulous look as she put her hands on her hips.
"First of all," she said, "She's dead. Most people generally consider that the end of their marriage. Secondly, it's pretty obvious that Quincy didn't make her happy." Ichigo's brows knitted at that remark.
"Their marriage is none of my business," Ichigo replied shortly. He didn't even want to think about his two friends' marriage, much less the fact that he had fantasized about his friend's wife. Repeatedly.
"If you like her and she's here, then it's your business," Rangiku said, irritation evident in her voice, "Besides, you obviously only sent her to the First Ward to shop because you wanted to see her dressed up." Rangiku stood back and crossed her arms, satisfied with her conclusion. Ichigo, on the other hand, flushed and sputtered, completely unsettled by her keen observation.
"I sent her there because I thought it'd make her happy!" he replied shakily, "Girls like shopping in expensive stores, right?" This did nothing to erase the smug look on Rangiku's face.
"Yet you let me spend everything on your card on her and won't even ask her to return anything," Rangiku nodded to herself, satisfied with her own logic, "If a man actually spent several hundred thousand kan on me at once, even I might be tempted to settle down!"
At the mention of all the money she'd spent, Ichigo went through several different colors, cycling through pale white to peach, to pink, to sunburnt, before finally settling on bright, cherry red.
"That's... that's like six months' salary!" Ichigo practically squawked, nearly hyperventilating as he stood. Rangiku looked unfazed.
"It's not like you ever actually spend anything, you cheapskate," she scolded, "Besides, if you want to win Orihime-chan back, you should be prepared to show her a good time."
"She's not greedy like some women I could mention," Ichigo spat, leaning over his desk, "Besides, who said I'm trying to win her over?! I already told you, she's marri--"
"Right, right," Rangiku dismissed his protests with a wave of her hand, "Get back to me when you man up and grow a pair, Ichigo." And with that, she turned to leave a flabbergasted Ichigo to steam behind his desk.
"It's Kurosaki-taichou to you, dammit," he yelled before continuing, "And if I see you borrowing so much as an obiage from her, I'll have Toushirou write you up!" That stopped Rangiku in her tracks. She turned back to look at him, horror stricken.
"You wouldn't dare!" she cried, "Borrowing clothes is a female tradition!" Ichigo allowed an evil smirk to stretch across his face.
"Oh, I dare alright," he said, happy that he'd figured out some of Rangiku's motivation from her little shopping spree, "Now get out of here before I tell him what you did anyway."
Rangiku pouted before heading out the door, nearly running into Orihime and Momo on the way out.
"So cruel!" she cried before turning to Orihime, "Orihime-chan, maybe you can redeem this awful man! The Gotei 13 would owe you a debt of gratitude!" Rangiku tossed a pleased smirk over her shoulder as she slipped out, happy with the sputtering she'd induced in Ichigo. Orihime just blushed and looked at her toes.
But as soon as Ichigo took stock of Orihime's appearance, all sputtering stopped. Momo had helped her into a pale yellow yukata decorated with pink flowers, an informal powder blue obi cinching the outfit closed around her waist. She was even wearing a cute little kanzashi on one side of her hair. The cheerful pattern and light colors, combined with the loose cascade of hair falling over her shoulder, made her look younger than she should have, reminding Ichigo intensely of their high school days. More than that, he realized almost immediately that it was flashier than what a married woman should be wearing.
Ichigo silently cursed Rangiku. She must have picked this yukata out on purpose, knowing it would make Orihime look young, pretty, and available. That meddling woman was going to be the death of him; he already felt light-headed and like his face was on fire.
"This was the simplest thing we got," Momo said with a touch of regret, "I'm not exactly sure if it's something she'd want to wear every day, though..."
"I-It's fine," Ichigo said, his mouth stuffed with cotton, "It's pretty flashy, but... it... looks good on you, Inoue." Ichigo mentally kicked himself as she peeked up at him shyly.
"Th-Thank you, Kurosaki-kun."
Part of Ichigo knew he could get used to Orihime walking around his barracks dressed like that. The other, more rational part of him, however, knew that he was liable to die prematurely of simple unresolved sexual tension.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-08-07 12:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-07 05:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-07 07:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-07 08:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-10 01:19 am (UTC)However, that last line made me laugh forever. TV Tropes, it gets into everything.
no subject
Date: 2010-08-10 01:53 am (UTC)Hey, tropes are tropes for a reason, dude!
no subject
Date: 2010-08-18 05:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-18 06:42 pm (UTC)