NOT AS PLANNED!
Aug. 7th, 2010 02:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
queenofchalicesTitle: Lady in Waiting, Chapter 4 - Love Letter Never Sent
Series: Bleach
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, het (IchiHime), historical geekery
Spoilers: This is AU. We don't need spoilers, where we're going.
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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The dawn broke warm and moist, a light breeze tickling Ichigo's face from beneath the wooden blinds. He almost didn't register the change in color of the sky; it went from deepest black, to indigo, to a deep, steely grey, then on to a light, greyish purple. By the time his body finally began to respond to the changes in light, the sky was already a pale purplish pink streaked with clouds of pale gold; the sun was just below the horizon.
As soon as it registered to him that it was almost dawn, he sat bolt upright from Orihime's pallet and their makeshift nest of clothing. Eyes wild and panicked, he frantically searched out his hakama and the rest of his scattered clothing. If he stayed any longer, people would see him and start asking some very uncomfortable questions.(1) Before he could rise from his position, though, a soft hand moved over his, restraining him.
"Kurosaki-kun?" Orihime murmured, her eyes barely registering him. Although Ichigo's heart was racing frantically from his abrupt wake up call, the sight of her lovely face made him smile. Her deep auburn hair was splayed haphazardly around her head, charmingly tangled from a half-night of sleep and from their other activities. She had barely cracked her eyes open from between thick lashes to look at him before letting them drift shut again. As she did so, he noticed the petal soft lips he'd finally gotten to touch the previous night; they were a pale pink, their surface velvety soft and inviting. To Ichigo's mind, they were begging to be kissed just one more time.
"I'm here, Inoue," he reassured her, his voice husky from sleep. The edges of her mouth turned up in a smile, warming Ichigo's heart. Well, one more kiss certainly wouldn't hurt.
He leaned forward, breathing in her scent; it spoke of sleep and incense and his own skin. Having picked up a thing or two from the petite woman beneath him, he stopped a hair's width from her succulent mouth and simply exhaled. He then darted his tongue between his lips, probing the line of her mouth and wetting her lips until they parted for him. Then, he pounced.
The kiss was far gentler than anything they'd shared the previous night. It was sleepy and sedate, slow and langorious. And still, it was unerringly sensual; as he nibbled her lower lip and prodded her with his tongue, he felt her stir. At first it was only a tiny muffled moan, responding to his kiss, but it was soon followed by her rolling onto her back, then moving her hands up to cup his cheek and trail further back to his hair. Ichigo quickly realized that if he continued kissing her, there would be an encore of last night, and he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.
"I gotta go," he mumbled into her mouth, reluctant to give up the kiss. A second later, though, she pulled back of her own accord.
"Try not to be seen, okay?" she said, voice heavy with sleep. Her eyes were still barely open and if the fingers on his cheek were any indication, she was on the verge of falling back to sleep already.
"I'll be back tonight," he promised, giving her one last impulsive peck before finally rising to search out his discarded clothing.
Once Orihime was settled firmly back into her bedding, Ichigo's panic returned full-force. The light from outside was growing ever stronger; if he was going to escape at all, it would have to be very soon.
He had never stayed this late before. Every other time he'd visited her, he'd left whenever she fell asleep, locking the door behind him. At that time of night, always somewhere before the end of the first half of the first watch,(2) it was quiet and he could escape undetected. But this time of morning, servants were bound to be up and around, as well as some members of the nobility. In winter, they'd be out stoking the braziers, but as it was summer, they were mostly preoccupied with housekeeping and other menial chores. Ichigo hoped they'd be too busy to notice him make his escape.
And escaping through the northern veranda was out of the question. Even if it hadn't been reinforced with a rather powerful barrier like every other opening on the palace grounds, the northern direction was hugely unlucky. Ichigo spared half a thought to the irony of a kirin, of all things, being worried about being cursed. But even he knew going out that way would draw too much attention.
Finally, he slid his overcoat into place, took one last look at his beloved courtesan, and made a beeline for the palace grounds the way he'd came.
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All through breakfast, Orihime could hear their restless whispers.
The first few times, she dismissed it as paranoia, but after a couple minutes of hushed comments and giggling hidden by large sleeves, Orihime knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was the subject of the other ladies' discussion. As breakfast wore on, she grew more and more uncomfortable, squirming in her place and barely paying any attention to her rice.
Judging by the looks on their faces, Rangiku and Tatsuki had noticed, as well. The Princess Imperial was just as oblivious as ever, for which Orihime was thankful; she was sure her face was blotchy and red from embarrassment.
"Last night was certainly interesting," one of the girls, Meiko, declared from behind her sleeves, "I heard some of the palace guards performing some kind of exercise during the ninth watch..." Orihime hid behind her ohashi, wanting to disappear entirely. A few of the other girls laughed daintily behind their sleeves.
"I believe they were performing some kind of drill," Keiko bantered back, eliciting another wave of giggles. By this point, Tatsuki and Rangiku had picked up on what was being said and were less than pleased.
"It's too bad the only drill Keiko-chan knows anything about involves her hand and a calligraphy brush," Tatsuki snarked(3) from behind her own sleeve. Her mouth turned up in a sneer of challenge as the other woman's mouth turned down in an angry pout.
"Why, I heard the poor dear has no one to practice with but kind old Oomaeda-san," Rangiku added, sparking another fit of giggles as the girl in question turned a violent reddish-purple.
"At least he's of better birth than that imbecilic Asano-san or that crusty Captain of the Guard!"(4) Keiko declared in a fit of pique. Tatsuki gave the flustered girl her best predatory smile before moving in for the kill.
"At least those two have calligraphy brushes bigger than their hands," she quipped, leaving no one in doubt as to who had won the morning's verbal sparring match.
Keiko turned from the table with an angry huff to talk more with Meiko, loudly declaring she had no more time to spend on such crass women. And finally, as the dishes were cleared away and the morning's poetry and drawing contests began, the Princess Imperial herself came to settle with her friends.
"Don't pay any attention to them, Orihime-chan," Rangiku said, laying a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder, "They're just jealous they don't have a guard as cute as yours." Orihime carefully studied her lap, her fingers twisting themselves into knots. As the blush on her face deepened, her head shot up in surprise.
"Y-You saw him?!" she asked, mortified.
"Oh yes!" Rangiku happily proclaimed, "You forgot to plug up those holes, you know! He's not a bad catch at all! Why, from behind, he looks just like a perfectly round little peach!" As Tatsuki scolded her, Orihime hid her face behind her sleeves, embarrassed beyond all belief.
"R-Rangiku-san, I can't believe you watched us!" she cried, heavily distressed, "And you were looking at his bottom, too!"
"His calligraphy brush was also quite fine," the Princess added thoughtfully, referring back to their earlier conversation. Her ever-present canine companion seemed to grumble at her cheerful proclamation. Orihime, on the other hand, let out a plaintive wail before turning away from her friends and throwing herself to the floor to bury her face in the cushions there.
"You three!" she cried, "You're worse than the others!" Her friends dismissed this with waves of their hands and little scoffing noises.
"Oh, come on, Orihime," Tatsuki said, pulling the over-dramatic redhead back up to a sitting position, "We're proud of you. Now stop being so embarrassed about everything." This still didn't do much to quell her deep blush.
"She's right, Orihime-chan," Rangiku continued kindly. Orihime nodded shyly.
"Th-Thank you," she said quietly, "Especially for taking up for me just now with Keiko-chan and Meiko-chan."
"They had it coming," Tatsuki rebuffed her gratitude gently, "I can't stand catty girls like that."
"Then you must despise half the court," the Princess said quietly to her black-haired companion. Although she couldn't openly censure those girls as much as she wanted, there were always ways to do it subtly.
"So~" Rangiku said expectantly, turning the conversation back to Orihime, "Let us see it!" The other two girls turned back toward her, their focus suddenly intent. Orihime simply stared at her companions in confusion.
"See what?" she asked innocently, puzzled as to what they expected of her.
"The letter, of course!" Rangiku happily chirped.
"What letter?" Orihime honestly couldn't recall the last time she'd received a letter - so many flew about the palace in the hands of messengers on a daily basis - or which letter they could even be talking about.
"You know," Tatsuki said in a conspiratorial whisper, "The letter! The one a man sends after he's spent the night!" Orihime found herself blushing again as her three friends focused all their attention on her.
"Umm," she said shyly, "I... actually haven't gotten one from him. Ever."
Her friends faces went from eager to utterly flabbergasted in the blink of an eye. To say it was odd for a man not to have sent his lover any correspondence at all was a bit of an understatement; the men of the court often competed with each other in the arts of poetry and calligraphy, so for a man to neglect something as basic as writing a letter to his lover was absolutely horrifying.
"What kind of despicable--"
"How utterly vile of him!"
"I'll see to it that my august brother strips him of his rank and gives him thirty lashes!"
The angry responses had Orihime confused and upset, but the threat of corporal punishment literally brought tears to her eyes.
"I-I don't understand!" she cried, "Did Kurosaki-kun do something wrong? I haven't written him either, but I know he'll come every night anyway!"
"Even if he hadn't written you before, he should've at least sent you a letter this morning," Rangiku said, folding her arms indignantly.
"Not sending one is about the worst insult you can give a girl!" Tatsuki proclaimed angrily. Now Orihime was beginning to worry.
"Why is it an insult?" she asked, fighting to keep tears from falling. If she cried there in front of everyone, the others would just make fun of her again. How was she expected to know these things? It was still just her first time!
"The only thing that should keep a man from sending a letter the morning after is if he had an abysmal time the evening before," Rangiku said thoughtfully. Tatsuki also looked as though she was pondering this as well.
"Even that buffoon Asano sends letters," she remarked, causing Orihime's eyebrows to rise, "They're terrible and overwrought beyond belief, but he does send them."
"Asano-san visits your room?" Orihime asked innocently, causing Tatsuki to blush.
"Err, only when I let him," Tatsuki replied hesitantly, "Otherwise he just taps on the door all night long and won't let me sleep."(5)
"Well," the Princess interjected, drawing their attention back away from their tangent, "Orihime-chan's visitor certainly seemed to be enjoying himself last night."
"Perhaps he hasn't been able to find a courier or he's been otherwise occupied this morning," Rangiku reasoned, "But what could be more important than this?" Orihime seized upon this idea almost violently.
"That has to be it!" she declared, "He's just busy with his patrols o-or hasn't had the time! It's barely even the Hour of the Snake,(6) I'm sure he'll send something before the end of the watch!"
Even though Orihime's voice seemed cheerful, Rangiku and Tatsuki gave one another a knowing look. It was quite obvious she was forcing a smile onto her face now, as she often did when things were rough.
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Lunch came and went, the day progressively growing gloomier and more oppressive. By supper time, however, Orihime was absolutely miserable. And if the titters and pointed looks from the other girls were any indication, they'd picked up on her gloom as well.
"Do you think castration is too good for him?" Tatsuki asked idly, picking up a piece of writing paper and studying its opacity. Rangiku sniffed, loading her own brush with ink.
"Being a eunuch is definitely too good for him,"(7) she replied curtly, "Ooh, I know! The Princess Imperial could have him exiled to the provinces!" Orihime put her head down and mewled in agony.
"Your highness, please don't listen to them," she whimpered, "I like all his parts where they are and I don't want him to be exiled!" Tatsuki put her paper down in consternation.
"Don't tell me you're still hung up on that ignorant hick," she huffed, leveling a stern look at her friend. Orihime flinched under the weight of her stare.
"He's slighted and embarrassed you in front of everyone," Rangiku sniffed coldly, "He doesn't deserve a second chance." Her words brought the pain in Orihime's chest to a head. She didn't want to think Ichigo had been so inconsiderate and hurtful on purpose; he wasn't like that, was he?
"Rangiku-san is right," the Princess finally said, nodding, "I'll send a letter to the Captain of the Guard and have him censured."
"And if that doesn't work, I'll tell the Captain myself," Rangiku huffed, placing her hands on her hips, tied back sleeves swishing at her sides.
Instead of answering, Orihime rose, allowing her face to fall into shadow beneath her bangs. Her lips and tiny fists, however, were trembling.
"I'm going to turn in early," she murmured, quietly excusing herself with a swish of silk. Tatsuki, Rangiku, and the Princess watched her go, concerned looks on their faces. Worse than that, they could hear the pointed whispers and giggles from the other girls that followed Orihime out of the room. Of course the others had noticed by now.
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Ichigo's day couldn't have been any more different.
As soon as he'd stepped out of the palace and found a convenient hiding place, he'd changed back to his kirin form and headed for the neighboring forests. There, he'd spent his morning gamboling happily about and chasing small forest creatures for the fun of it. He ate, he drank from a small stream, and when the sun was highest in the sky, he found a leafy outcropping to take a nap in.
By the time he woke, the sun was hanging low in the western horizon, casting deep and flickering shadows across the forest floor. Ichigo rose, stretched his gangly legs, and yawned. After shaking his mane out and finally fully waking up, he felt a rush of excitement overtake him; he'd slept until it was almost time to see Orihime again! Since it wouldn't do for him to rush right out of the woods and across the palace lawns until he was certain he wouldn't be seen, he paced the leaf-littered forest floor, his excitement making him tremble.
He had a companion now! He wasn't sure of the human word for it - lover? Consort? They weren't married, so she couldn't be his wife, but oh, if she could! Maybe she'd tell him how they could go about being married! They could have a little house like his parents and maybe even little human babies of their own...
And then his thoughts froze. It wouldn't be possible to live that closely with her; he'd have to maintain human form all the time, after all, and that might grow taxing after too long. He wasn't exactly keen on her finding out about his true nature, and she'd wonder if he was gone every day for no reason. And what if someone came to hurt her while he was out? She was safely ensconced in the walls of the palace now, but if they lived in a little house together, he would be her only protection and companionship. And what if she'd just rather things stay as they were now, so she could be with her friends?
These thoughts gave Ichigo pause and caused him to fold his legs beneath his body in contemplation. Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself here. He didn't exactly know how humans carried on relationships of this nature; he'd only seen one liaison, after all, and that was only for one night. What if those two humans didn't talk the way he talked to Orihime? Or what if she didn't feel as strongly for him as he did for her? She did see other humans all day, every day, after all.
"Aww, dammit!" he grumbled, covering his head with his hooves and scrunching his eyes shut. Was he thinking too much about this? Or had he not thought about this enough the night before? The more he thought, the more his enthusiasm turned to apprehension. He could hardly wait to see her again and find out what she wanted to do.
But the sun seemed to be mocking him, hanging just level with the horizon for so long before dipping completely beneath it. And even then, once the last sliver of the sun had sunk behind the forests, the light lingered on, making it impossible for him to dart across the palace grounds to Orihime's room. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the light faded to an acceptable level. The world turned grayish, dusky purple and the fireflies came out to dance over the well-kept lawns of the royal world. As Ichigo watched them through parted branches, he could barely contain the wobble in his tall, thin legs; it was like they were leading him down an enchanted path to his lover's room.
As he finally gamboled across the lawn, he could clearly see Orihime's room. The lights were burning lower than usual, casting the room in a dim, pale glow. Stranger yet, she seemed to already be in her bed, back turned to the open veranda. Ichigo watched her in fascination, thinking at first that she might have been asleep; her form was very still and seemed to almost even be devoid of breath at all. Had she fallen asleep waiting for him? What if she hadn't moved at all today? He couldn't have hurt her the night before, could he?
But before he could worry, her shoulders shook ever-so-slightly and she stirred, moving her arms. As Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief, she began to move, rolling jerkily towards the veranda to face him. As her face came into view, however, he was struck with a piercing horror; she was crying.
A mixture of mortification and anger flooded through Ichigo. Why was she crying? Who had made her cry? Why did she look so utterly miserable? Should he try to find out from her who had hurt her and then go rough them up, or should he just try to comfort her? Either way, panic seized him as he rushed towards cover that would allow him to change back into his human form. He needed to be by her side as soon as possible.
As soon as he could, he found himself inside the palace, shoving past couriers and servants, and barreling towards her door. He slid it open with a hasty 'bang' and threw the blinds back, rattling loudly as they went. As he stepped inside the room and the blinds clattered down behind him, he quickly scanned the back to see that Orihime's curtain of state was exactly where he'd left it this morning.
"Inoue?" he asked, his voice strained, "Inoue, are you okay?"
He was answered with no sounds of stirring from behind the curtain, as though she was laying perfectly still and refusing to move. The only way he even knew she was there was from the choked sound of a sniffle that she couldn't quite contain. Ichigo couldn't take it anymore. He had to get behind that curtain and see her. He would hold her until she stopped crying and then he'd absolutely destroy whatever had made her cry in the first place. As he moved forward, though, she finally spoke.
"Don't come near me," she said from behind the curtain, causing Ichigo to come to a halt. He felt as though a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over his head.
"What... What's wrong?" he replied shakily, "Inoue, why are you crying?" He could hear her shift slightly before presumably drawing her robe over her head.
"I don't want to talk to you again," her choked and muffled voice came from behind the curtain, "Just go away and leave me alone!"
Ichigo felt his knees go weak and his stomach flip. He thought he might be sick on the spot. Just this morning, they were in love, weren't they? What happened? Why was she suddenly acting like this? His jaw hung slack as he stared at the curtain, Orihime's faint outline visible in the dim light. He brought a hand to his chest, feeling the pain twisting inside now. What was this feeling?
His heartbeat hammered in his ears, drowning out all other sound as he took one numb step backward. Not knowing what else to do, he moved toward the door.
"I... I'm sorry, Inoue," he muttered hoarsely, "I'll... leave you alone, if that's what you want."
Orihime waited behind her curtain, not even turning to face his direction as he left. A few moments passed before the blinds clattered again and the door slid shut. Then, all was silence.
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1. It was customary for a lover to leave his lady’s apartment before dawn. By staying so long, Ichigo risks being seen by the servants.
2. About 1am.
3. As the Heian era was decidedly non-violent, most clashes took place with lines of poetry. Here, Tatsuki and Rangiku are showing the other girls up with puns instead.
4. Rank played such an important social role that it’s understandable that Keigo and Shuuhei would be seen as less desirable than someone like Oomaeda, who is at least Third Rank. Most of the Imperial Police and Guards were rough men from the provinces and were viewed as little more than ruffians or barbarians.
5. This was a common way for men to initiate a sexual encounter with a woman. If Tatsuki really didn’t want to let him in, she could have just opted to not open the door.
6. About 9 or 10am.
7. While Japan didn’t employ eunuchs, they would’ve been known to the Heian court ladies since they were outstanding figures in Chinese history and literature. Even though they were technically only servants, they were well-known for having a heavy hand in government affairs – hence castration being too kind a fate for Ichigo.
Series: Bleach
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, het (IchiHime), historical geekery
Spoilers: This is AU. We don't need spoilers, where we're going.
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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The dawn broke warm and moist, a light breeze tickling Ichigo's face from beneath the wooden blinds. He almost didn't register the change in color of the sky; it went from deepest black, to indigo, to a deep, steely grey, then on to a light, greyish purple. By the time his body finally began to respond to the changes in light, the sky was already a pale purplish pink streaked with clouds of pale gold; the sun was just below the horizon.
As soon as it registered to him that it was almost dawn, he sat bolt upright from Orihime's pallet and their makeshift nest of clothing. Eyes wild and panicked, he frantically searched out his hakama and the rest of his scattered clothing. If he stayed any longer, people would see him and start asking some very uncomfortable questions.(1) Before he could rise from his position, though, a soft hand moved over his, restraining him.
"Kurosaki-kun?" Orihime murmured, her eyes barely registering him. Although Ichigo's heart was racing frantically from his abrupt wake up call, the sight of her lovely face made him smile. Her deep auburn hair was splayed haphazardly around her head, charmingly tangled from a half-night of sleep and from their other activities. She had barely cracked her eyes open from between thick lashes to look at him before letting them drift shut again. As she did so, he noticed the petal soft lips he'd finally gotten to touch the previous night; they were a pale pink, their surface velvety soft and inviting. To Ichigo's mind, they were begging to be kissed just one more time.
"I'm here, Inoue," he reassured her, his voice husky from sleep. The edges of her mouth turned up in a smile, warming Ichigo's heart. Well, one more kiss certainly wouldn't hurt.
He leaned forward, breathing in her scent; it spoke of sleep and incense and his own skin. Having picked up a thing or two from the petite woman beneath him, he stopped a hair's width from her succulent mouth and simply exhaled. He then darted his tongue between his lips, probing the line of her mouth and wetting her lips until they parted for him. Then, he pounced.
The kiss was far gentler than anything they'd shared the previous night. It was sleepy and sedate, slow and langorious. And still, it was unerringly sensual; as he nibbled her lower lip and prodded her with his tongue, he felt her stir. At first it was only a tiny muffled moan, responding to his kiss, but it was soon followed by her rolling onto her back, then moving her hands up to cup his cheek and trail further back to his hair. Ichigo quickly realized that if he continued kissing her, there would be an encore of last night, and he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.
"I gotta go," he mumbled into her mouth, reluctant to give up the kiss. A second later, though, she pulled back of her own accord.
"Try not to be seen, okay?" she said, voice heavy with sleep. Her eyes were still barely open and if the fingers on his cheek were any indication, she was on the verge of falling back to sleep already.
"I'll be back tonight," he promised, giving her one last impulsive peck before finally rising to search out his discarded clothing.
Once Orihime was settled firmly back into her bedding, Ichigo's panic returned full-force. The light from outside was growing ever stronger; if he was going to escape at all, it would have to be very soon.
He had never stayed this late before. Every other time he'd visited her, he'd left whenever she fell asleep, locking the door behind him. At that time of night, always somewhere before the end of the first half of the first watch,(2) it was quiet and he could escape undetected. But this time of morning, servants were bound to be up and around, as well as some members of the nobility. In winter, they'd be out stoking the braziers, but as it was summer, they were mostly preoccupied with housekeeping and other menial chores. Ichigo hoped they'd be too busy to notice him make his escape.
And escaping through the northern veranda was out of the question. Even if it hadn't been reinforced with a rather powerful barrier like every other opening on the palace grounds, the northern direction was hugely unlucky. Ichigo spared half a thought to the irony of a kirin, of all things, being worried about being cursed. But even he knew going out that way would draw too much attention.
Finally, he slid his overcoat into place, took one last look at his beloved courtesan, and made a beeline for the palace grounds the way he'd came.
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All through breakfast, Orihime could hear their restless whispers.
The first few times, she dismissed it as paranoia, but after a couple minutes of hushed comments and giggling hidden by large sleeves, Orihime knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was the subject of the other ladies' discussion. As breakfast wore on, she grew more and more uncomfortable, squirming in her place and barely paying any attention to her rice.
Judging by the looks on their faces, Rangiku and Tatsuki had noticed, as well. The Princess Imperial was just as oblivious as ever, for which Orihime was thankful; she was sure her face was blotchy and red from embarrassment.
"Last night was certainly interesting," one of the girls, Meiko, declared from behind her sleeves, "I heard some of the palace guards performing some kind of exercise during the ninth watch..." Orihime hid behind her ohashi, wanting to disappear entirely. A few of the other girls laughed daintily behind their sleeves.
"I believe they were performing some kind of drill," Keiko bantered back, eliciting another wave of giggles. By this point, Tatsuki and Rangiku had picked up on what was being said and were less than pleased.
"It's too bad the only drill Keiko-chan knows anything about involves her hand and a calligraphy brush," Tatsuki snarked(3) from behind her own sleeve. Her mouth turned up in a sneer of challenge as the other woman's mouth turned down in an angry pout.
"Why, I heard the poor dear has no one to practice with but kind old Oomaeda-san," Rangiku added, sparking another fit of giggles as the girl in question turned a violent reddish-purple.
"At least he's of better birth than that imbecilic Asano-san or that crusty Captain of the Guard!"(4) Keiko declared in a fit of pique. Tatsuki gave the flustered girl her best predatory smile before moving in for the kill.
"At least those two have calligraphy brushes bigger than their hands," she quipped, leaving no one in doubt as to who had won the morning's verbal sparring match.
Keiko turned from the table with an angry huff to talk more with Meiko, loudly declaring she had no more time to spend on such crass women. And finally, as the dishes were cleared away and the morning's poetry and drawing contests began, the Princess Imperial herself came to settle with her friends.
"Don't pay any attention to them, Orihime-chan," Rangiku said, laying a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder, "They're just jealous they don't have a guard as cute as yours." Orihime carefully studied her lap, her fingers twisting themselves into knots. As the blush on her face deepened, her head shot up in surprise.
"Y-You saw him?!" she asked, mortified.
"Oh yes!" Rangiku happily proclaimed, "You forgot to plug up those holes, you know! He's not a bad catch at all! Why, from behind, he looks just like a perfectly round little peach!" As Tatsuki scolded her, Orihime hid her face behind her sleeves, embarrassed beyond all belief.
"R-Rangiku-san, I can't believe you watched us!" she cried, heavily distressed, "And you were looking at his bottom, too!"
"His calligraphy brush was also quite fine," the Princess added thoughtfully, referring back to their earlier conversation. Her ever-present canine companion seemed to grumble at her cheerful proclamation. Orihime, on the other hand, let out a plaintive wail before turning away from her friends and throwing herself to the floor to bury her face in the cushions there.
"You three!" she cried, "You're worse than the others!" Her friends dismissed this with waves of their hands and little scoffing noises.
"Oh, come on, Orihime," Tatsuki said, pulling the over-dramatic redhead back up to a sitting position, "We're proud of you. Now stop being so embarrassed about everything." This still didn't do much to quell her deep blush.
"She's right, Orihime-chan," Rangiku continued kindly. Orihime nodded shyly.
"Th-Thank you," she said quietly, "Especially for taking up for me just now with Keiko-chan and Meiko-chan."
"They had it coming," Tatsuki rebuffed her gratitude gently, "I can't stand catty girls like that."
"Then you must despise half the court," the Princess said quietly to her black-haired companion. Although she couldn't openly censure those girls as much as she wanted, there were always ways to do it subtly.
"So~" Rangiku said expectantly, turning the conversation back to Orihime, "Let us see it!" The other two girls turned back toward her, their focus suddenly intent. Orihime simply stared at her companions in confusion.
"See what?" she asked innocently, puzzled as to what they expected of her.
"The letter, of course!" Rangiku happily chirped.
"What letter?" Orihime honestly couldn't recall the last time she'd received a letter - so many flew about the palace in the hands of messengers on a daily basis - or which letter they could even be talking about.
"You know," Tatsuki said in a conspiratorial whisper, "The letter! The one a man sends after he's spent the night!" Orihime found herself blushing again as her three friends focused all their attention on her.
"Umm," she said shyly, "I... actually haven't gotten one from him. Ever."
Her friends faces went from eager to utterly flabbergasted in the blink of an eye. To say it was odd for a man not to have sent his lover any correspondence at all was a bit of an understatement; the men of the court often competed with each other in the arts of poetry and calligraphy, so for a man to neglect something as basic as writing a letter to his lover was absolutely horrifying.
"What kind of despicable--"
"How utterly vile of him!"
"I'll see to it that my august brother strips him of his rank and gives him thirty lashes!"
The angry responses had Orihime confused and upset, but the threat of corporal punishment literally brought tears to her eyes.
"I-I don't understand!" she cried, "Did Kurosaki-kun do something wrong? I haven't written him either, but I know he'll come every night anyway!"
"Even if he hadn't written you before, he should've at least sent you a letter this morning," Rangiku said, folding her arms indignantly.
"Not sending one is about the worst insult you can give a girl!" Tatsuki proclaimed angrily. Now Orihime was beginning to worry.
"Why is it an insult?" she asked, fighting to keep tears from falling. If she cried there in front of everyone, the others would just make fun of her again. How was she expected to know these things? It was still just her first time!
"The only thing that should keep a man from sending a letter the morning after is if he had an abysmal time the evening before," Rangiku said thoughtfully. Tatsuki also looked as though she was pondering this as well.
"Even that buffoon Asano sends letters," she remarked, causing Orihime's eyebrows to rise, "They're terrible and overwrought beyond belief, but he does send them."
"Asano-san visits your room?" Orihime asked innocently, causing Tatsuki to blush.
"Err, only when I let him," Tatsuki replied hesitantly, "Otherwise he just taps on the door all night long and won't let me sleep."(5)
"Well," the Princess interjected, drawing their attention back away from their tangent, "Orihime-chan's visitor certainly seemed to be enjoying himself last night."
"Perhaps he hasn't been able to find a courier or he's been otherwise occupied this morning," Rangiku reasoned, "But what could be more important than this?" Orihime seized upon this idea almost violently.
"That has to be it!" she declared, "He's just busy with his patrols o-or hasn't had the time! It's barely even the Hour of the Snake,(6) I'm sure he'll send something before the end of the watch!"
Even though Orihime's voice seemed cheerful, Rangiku and Tatsuki gave one another a knowing look. It was quite obvious she was forcing a smile onto her face now, as she often did when things were rough.
__________________________________________________________________
Lunch came and went, the day progressively growing gloomier and more oppressive. By supper time, however, Orihime was absolutely miserable. And if the titters and pointed looks from the other girls were any indication, they'd picked up on her gloom as well.
"Do you think castration is too good for him?" Tatsuki asked idly, picking up a piece of writing paper and studying its opacity. Rangiku sniffed, loading her own brush with ink.
"Being a eunuch is definitely too good for him,"(7) she replied curtly, "Ooh, I know! The Princess Imperial could have him exiled to the provinces!" Orihime put her head down and mewled in agony.
"Your highness, please don't listen to them," she whimpered, "I like all his parts where they are and I don't want him to be exiled!" Tatsuki put her paper down in consternation.
"Don't tell me you're still hung up on that ignorant hick," she huffed, leveling a stern look at her friend. Orihime flinched under the weight of her stare.
"He's slighted and embarrassed you in front of everyone," Rangiku sniffed coldly, "He doesn't deserve a second chance." Her words brought the pain in Orihime's chest to a head. She didn't want to think Ichigo had been so inconsiderate and hurtful on purpose; he wasn't like that, was he?
"Rangiku-san is right," the Princess finally said, nodding, "I'll send a letter to the Captain of the Guard and have him censured."
"And if that doesn't work, I'll tell the Captain myself," Rangiku huffed, placing her hands on her hips, tied back sleeves swishing at her sides.
Instead of answering, Orihime rose, allowing her face to fall into shadow beneath her bangs. Her lips and tiny fists, however, were trembling.
"I'm going to turn in early," she murmured, quietly excusing herself with a swish of silk. Tatsuki, Rangiku, and the Princess watched her go, concerned looks on their faces. Worse than that, they could hear the pointed whispers and giggles from the other girls that followed Orihime out of the room. Of course the others had noticed by now.
______________________________________________________________
Ichigo's day couldn't have been any more different.
As soon as he'd stepped out of the palace and found a convenient hiding place, he'd changed back to his kirin form and headed for the neighboring forests. There, he'd spent his morning gamboling happily about and chasing small forest creatures for the fun of it. He ate, he drank from a small stream, and when the sun was highest in the sky, he found a leafy outcropping to take a nap in.
By the time he woke, the sun was hanging low in the western horizon, casting deep and flickering shadows across the forest floor. Ichigo rose, stretched his gangly legs, and yawned. After shaking his mane out and finally fully waking up, he felt a rush of excitement overtake him; he'd slept until it was almost time to see Orihime again! Since it wouldn't do for him to rush right out of the woods and across the palace lawns until he was certain he wouldn't be seen, he paced the leaf-littered forest floor, his excitement making him tremble.
He had a companion now! He wasn't sure of the human word for it - lover? Consort? They weren't married, so she couldn't be his wife, but oh, if she could! Maybe she'd tell him how they could go about being married! They could have a little house like his parents and maybe even little human babies of their own...
And then his thoughts froze. It wouldn't be possible to live that closely with her; he'd have to maintain human form all the time, after all, and that might grow taxing after too long. He wasn't exactly keen on her finding out about his true nature, and she'd wonder if he was gone every day for no reason. And what if someone came to hurt her while he was out? She was safely ensconced in the walls of the palace now, but if they lived in a little house together, he would be her only protection and companionship. And what if she'd just rather things stay as they were now, so she could be with her friends?
These thoughts gave Ichigo pause and caused him to fold his legs beneath his body in contemplation. Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself here. He didn't exactly know how humans carried on relationships of this nature; he'd only seen one liaison, after all, and that was only for one night. What if those two humans didn't talk the way he talked to Orihime? Or what if she didn't feel as strongly for him as he did for her? She did see other humans all day, every day, after all.
"Aww, dammit!" he grumbled, covering his head with his hooves and scrunching his eyes shut. Was he thinking too much about this? Or had he not thought about this enough the night before? The more he thought, the more his enthusiasm turned to apprehension. He could hardly wait to see her again and find out what she wanted to do.
But the sun seemed to be mocking him, hanging just level with the horizon for so long before dipping completely beneath it. And even then, once the last sliver of the sun had sunk behind the forests, the light lingered on, making it impossible for him to dart across the palace grounds to Orihime's room. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the light faded to an acceptable level. The world turned grayish, dusky purple and the fireflies came out to dance over the well-kept lawns of the royal world. As Ichigo watched them through parted branches, he could barely contain the wobble in his tall, thin legs; it was like they were leading him down an enchanted path to his lover's room.
As he finally gamboled across the lawn, he could clearly see Orihime's room. The lights were burning lower than usual, casting the room in a dim, pale glow. Stranger yet, she seemed to already be in her bed, back turned to the open veranda. Ichigo watched her in fascination, thinking at first that she might have been asleep; her form was very still and seemed to almost even be devoid of breath at all. Had she fallen asleep waiting for him? What if she hadn't moved at all today? He couldn't have hurt her the night before, could he?
But before he could worry, her shoulders shook ever-so-slightly and she stirred, moving her arms. As Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief, she began to move, rolling jerkily towards the veranda to face him. As her face came into view, however, he was struck with a piercing horror; she was crying.
A mixture of mortification and anger flooded through Ichigo. Why was she crying? Who had made her cry? Why did she look so utterly miserable? Should he try to find out from her who had hurt her and then go rough them up, or should he just try to comfort her? Either way, panic seized him as he rushed towards cover that would allow him to change back into his human form. He needed to be by her side as soon as possible.
As soon as he could, he found himself inside the palace, shoving past couriers and servants, and barreling towards her door. He slid it open with a hasty 'bang' and threw the blinds back, rattling loudly as they went. As he stepped inside the room and the blinds clattered down behind him, he quickly scanned the back to see that Orihime's curtain of state was exactly where he'd left it this morning.
"Inoue?" he asked, his voice strained, "Inoue, are you okay?"
He was answered with no sounds of stirring from behind the curtain, as though she was laying perfectly still and refusing to move. The only way he even knew she was there was from the choked sound of a sniffle that she couldn't quite contain. Ichigo couldn't take it anymore. He had to get behind that curtain and see her. He would hold her until she stopped crying and then he'd absolutely destroy whatever had made her cry in the first place. As he moved forward, though, she finally spoke.
"Don't come near me," she said from behind the curtain, causing Ichigo to come to a halt. He felt as though a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over his head.
"What... What's wrong?" he replied shakily, "Inoue, why are you crying?" He could hear her shift slightly before presumably drawing her robe over her head.
"I don't want to talk to you again," her choked and muffled voice came from behind the curtain, "Just go away and leave me alone!"
Ichigo felt his knees go weak and his stomach flip. He thought he might be sick on the spot. Just this morning, they were in love, weren't they? What happened? Why was she suddenly acting like this? His jaw hung slack as he stared at the curtain, Orihime's faint outline visible in the dim light. He brought a hand to his chest, feeling the pain twisting inside now. What was this feeling?
His heartbeat hammered in his ears, drowning out all other sound as he took one numb step backward. Not knowing what else to do, he moved toward the door.
"I... I'm sorry, Inoue," he muttered hoarsely, "I'll... leave you alone, if that's what you want."
Orihime waited behind her curtain, not even turning to face his direction as he left. A few moments passed before the blinds clattered again and the door slid shut. Then, all was silence.
_______________________________________________________________________
1. It was customary for a lover to leave his lady’s apartment before dawn. By staying so long, Ichigo risks being seen by the servants.
2. About 1am.
3. As the Heian era was decidedly non-violent, most clashes took place with lines of poetry. Here, Tatsuki and Rangiku are showing the other girls up with puns instead.
4. Rank played such an important social role that it’s understandable that Keigo and Shuuhei would be seen as less desirable than someone like Oomaeda, who is at least Third Rank. Most of the Imperial Police and Guards were rough men from the provinces and were viewed as little more than ruffians or barbarians.
5. This was a common way for men to initiate a sexual encounter with a woman. If Tatsuki really didn’t want to let him in, she could have just opted to not open the door.
6. About 9 or 10am.
7. While Japan didn’t employ eunuchs, they would’ve been known to the Heian court ladies since they were outstanding figures in Chinese history and literature. Even though they were technically only servants, they were well-known for having a heavy hand in government affairs – hence castration being too kind a fate for Ichigo.
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Date: 2010-08-07 07:05 pm (UTC)Either way, I am sadface for Ichigo and Orihime, plz to be fixing. :(
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Date: 2010-08-07 08:51 pm (UTC)Aww, it'll be fixed next chapter, I promise!
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Date: 2010-08-08 01:38 am (UTC)Ok, I will be trusting you then~ :3