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queenofchalices) wrote2010-09-02 03:46 pm
queenofchalices) wrote2010-09-02 03:46 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Title: Oedipus Complex – Chapter Four
Series: Bleach
Rating: T
Warnings: het (IchiHime, IsshinHime), May/December relationship
Spoilers: Through current chapters (418)
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. 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.
___________________________________________
"I need to talk to you."
The sandy-blond, shaggy-haired man raised an eyebrow beneath his striped bucket hat. His entire expression bespoke incredulity, as though Ichigo had just said the sky was blue or the grass was green.
"Obviously," Urahara observed drily from behind his fan, shielding his smirk, "It must be urgent for you to leave the house in that, Kurosaki-san."
Ichigo spared an exasperated glance downwards. In his rush to get out of the house, he'd thrown on the first things he'd laid hands on. As such, he'd wound up in a wrinkled green t-shirt, purple pants, and red shoes. He sighed and slapped his forehead, hoping no one had seen him on his way here. That was all he needed now.
"Forget what I'm wearing," he grumbled, raking his fingers through his hair, "I have a problem and I don't know who else to ask."
"You don't need to buy medicine from me, you know," Urahara commented, poking the bruise Ichigo'd been concealing beneath his shirt, "Inoue-san will heal you for free. Although if you want to waste your money with me, you're more than welcome to..." Ichigo sighed and leaned forward. He rested his forehead in his hands, the elbows of which were perched on the low table Urahara had seated them at.
"That's just the problem," Ichigo groaned miserably, "Inoue..." Urahara's expression was still interested, but he was also still hiding it behind his fan.
"Ahh, Kurosaki-san is having girl problems," he observed, not without a little glee in his voice. Ichigo glared over at him mutinously between his hands.
"She's going to marry my dad next week," Ichigo said, probably more miserably than he'd meant to. It wasn't like he could bring himself to care at this point, though. Urahara's eyebrows disappeared completely beneath his hat.
"And you're jealous," Urahara observed evenly. Ichigo released his forehead and slammed his fists on the table.
"I'm not jealous!" he yelled. Urahara didn't even flinch.
"Then what's the problem?" the ex-captain asked. Ichigo balked at him openly.
"What's the problem?!" he repeated incredulously, "She's... She's Inoue and he's Dad, that's the problem! She's my age!" Urahara finally lowered his fan, snapping it shut.
"You do realize that your father is pretty old, being a shinigami and all, right?" Urahara observed calmly, "Any human girl he decided to date would be much younger than him."
"You're not helping as much as you think you are," Ichigo ground out between his teeth. He really didn't want to think of the age difference between his mom and dad right now.
"What I'm saying is, as long as it's legal, you should give him a break," Urahara said lightly, "If he and Inoue-san are in love, then..."
"They're not in love, and it's still gross," Ichigo snapped, "It doesn't matter how old he is, he has a son her age. And she only agreed to marry him because he asked. It's messed up."
"Well," Urahara mused, his sing-song voice making Ichigo's eye twitch again, "Maybe he figured your sisters could use a mother figure?"
"Yeah?" Ichigo snapped, "Then why's he sleeping with her? She could be a mother figure to them without marrying him!" Urahara's unflappable demeanor was only serving to make Ichigo even angrier.
"I don't know many men who could resist the temptation to sleep with Inoue-san, if given the opportunity," Urahara observed philosophically, "But it seems like you only have a problem with it because it's Inoue-san..."
"Yes!"
"Then you're jealous."
"No!"
"Then what do you call it?"
Ichigo paused in his wrath, perplexed by the question. He couldn't be jealous - he'd wanted Orihime to find someone else, right? Just... not his dad.
"I don't... I don't know," he admitted begrudgingly, "But I'm not jealous."
"If you say so," Urahara waved him off, his eyes betraying the fact that he didn't really believe him, "But if you dated her, she'd still be a big sister figure to your sisters. Your father probably wouldn't mind; like you said, there's no love there, right?"
"I don't want to date her!" Ichigo blurted out defensively, his face staining a deep red, "I just... don't want her to date him!" At this point, Urahara seemed to have grown bored.
"Well, that's childish," Urahara said with a yawn, "Why don't you get one of your school friends to date her instead?"
Ichigo stared at his hands, still feeling his cheeks overheat. Would he be able to do that? The annoyed grumbling from his hollow told him all he needed to know. Besides, he'd already beat up all those guys at school who thought they were going out; could he really leave protecting her from assholes like that to someone like Uryuu? Chad might be able to handle it, but he already caught enough crap just because he looked tough. He didn't need more problems because Ichigo was being too chickenshit to solve his own problems.
He sighed heavily, giving Urahara a weary look.
"So you're saying this is my problem," Ichigo finally admitted. Urahara hummed his ascent with a small smirk.
"Fine," Ichigo nearly whined, "I'll fix it myself! But... I guess I'll buy some medicine while I'm here."
_________________________________________________________________________________
"I'm home..."
It was almost noon before Ichigo came trudging back through the door of his family's clinic. His spirits were even lower than when he left, if that was even possible. He had spent the past hour wandering around town in the chilly, pre-spring air without a coat. He was also fairly sure his reputation was ruined with the horrible outfit he'd flung on in his rush to leave the house, but he hoped he'd looked sick enough that everyone would attribute it to that. Hopefully, the paper bag of medicine he'd gotten from Urahara had completed the appearance.
As soon as he came through the door and looked up, though, he knew his wandering had been a mistake. He was immediately met by a pair of large, honey brown doe eyes, staring up at him tearfully.
"Ichigo-kun..."
He froze in place, hiding the bag behind his back. Sadly, he could not ever hide the fact that he was injured from Orihime. At this point, she'd seen him with so many injuries that she could sense when he was hurt. Ichigo sighed; he should've known better.
Fortunately for his nerves (and his hormones), Orihime had changed out of his dad's shirt and was now in her own clothes, one of her familiar clingy cotton blouses paired with a long, flowery skirt. She'd even braided her hair into two long pigtails, pulled to either side of her face. She looked so painfully sweet that it made Ichigo's heart ache.
"I'm fine," he grumbled, his voice softer than he'd intended. Orihime looked unconvinced.
"You've been hurt all morning," she said gently, "Let me heal you."
"You don't have to," he mumbled, trying to move past her. Instead, she laid her hand on his chest and fixed him with a pleading look. And then Ichigo knew he was done for.
The house was eerily quiet as she led him upstairs to his bedroom. Ichigo figured his sisters were gone for the morning and his father had never returned from wherever he'd gone off to, leaving the house to just him and Orihime. From the smell of things, she'd been cleaning when he came back. Even so, as they wordlessly entered his room, she looked fretful. Had he worried her that badly this morning?
"Lay down, okay?" she said quietly, motioning to his bed. Ichigo did as he was told for once, laying on the bright blue bedspread and turning his face towards the wall. Orihime pulled his desk chair over and sat facing him. Without another word, he felt Orihime's golden healing dome surround him.
It was as if he'd forgotten how warm and just plain good that power of hers felt. His tensed muscles, which had caused his hands and stomach to clench, were slowly relaxing into that golden light. Her faint scent surrounded him, vanilla and milk soothing his senses. He felt his weary eyelids droop as he was quickly lulled into a doze. In fact, had it not been for Orihime's voice, he'd have simply melted into unconsciousness then and there.
"Ichigo-kun?" she asked softly, barely more than a whisper. Ichigo acknowledged her by turning his head towards her voice, but he still did not open his eyes. Instead, he hummed an inquiry, content to just enjoy the feeling of being mended by her powers.
"Are you... Are you angry with me?"
This caused him to crack an eye open and look at her. Her pretty brown eyes seemed to be shimmering with unshed tears and her lips were pursed to keep them from trembling. She was fisting her skirt in her hands, twisting the fabric nervously. At the sight of her distressed face, Ichigo felt a sudden pang of guilt jolt him out of his relaxation. He had been acting out, and it had worried her.
"I can't be angry with you, Inoue," he murmured, looking away and hoping the healing shield would disguise his blush.
"Then why...?"
"I don't want you to marry my dad," Ichigo stated firmly, but softly, "That's all." Silence fell between the two for a long while, as though Orihime was waiting for something.
"Am I... not good enough?" she finally asked, her voice quivering as she forced back a sob. Ichigo regarded her with a pained look. Wasn't this what Urahara had told him to do? He'd stated what he wanted clearly, but then she took it like that-!
"Of course you are," he replied defensively, moving to sit up, "But it's... it's just not right..." She reached over to push him back down onto his back, leaning over and brushing him with her generous breasts in the process.
"I-If you don't want me in your family, I understand," she said quietly, "But please give me a chance? I'll be a good wife for your father, I promise." Ichigo fought back a blush; she was nearly on top of him now, watery eyes half-lidded. If circumstances had been different, maybe they would have...
"It's not that!" he protested weakly. But it was no good; Orihime was giving him that pleading, searching look again, as if she was waiting on him to do something. But what?
It really wasn't that Ichigo didn't want Orihime around. He enjoyed her presence and appreciated her skill at healing. There was just something about being around her that soothed him. In fact, it was that simple fact that had made him start pushing her away; since when had he deserved something so good? Anything as sweet as Orihime would just end badly for him. Hueco Mundo had taught him that.
Still, the more he thought about her with his father, the angrier it made him. Why him? Why not one of the guys in school? But once again, Ichigo came to the same conclusion he had reached at Urahara's; he didn't want to think about her with any other man, not even the ones at school. None of them were good enough.
"I have to go finish the chores," Orihime finally said softly, rising. Ichigo felt like he'd said completely the wrong thing, once again. At this rate, he might as well just lodge his foot in his mouth and leave it there. A second later, she'd left him alone again, except for her fairies. If he wasn't imagining things, the one closest to his head was giving him a piteous look.
"What?" he asked gruffly, causing the red-clad fairy to ruffle slightly. The blond blushed a bit at finally being acknowledged after so long, but went back to what he was doing.
"Orihime is trying her best," the little blond with the top-knot chirped sadly, "She really just wants to make you happy." Ichigo turned away from the tiny creature. Great, now he was blushing, too. But what could he say to him? He was sure that whatever they discussed would be relayed back to Orihime, one way or the other.
"She does make me happy," he finally murmured.
"But you're not happy now," the fairy, Ichigo thought his name was Shun'o, observed. Ichigo sighed; he was determined to drag something out of him one way or the other.
"I'm not jealous, okay?" Ichigo cut him off before he could even start, "I just don't like it. That's all." The fairy fretted.
"You could stop everything if you wanted to," Shun'o pointed out, causing Ichigo to roll to his side to face away from him. Ichigo was perfectly well aware that he was Orihime's first choice. In practicality, however, that didn't matter.
"I can't do that," he grumbled, "She deserves someone that can take better care of her than I can." The fairy put his hands on his hips and did his best impression of Ichigo's own scowl.
"You take care of her just fine," the blond huffed, causing Ichigo to roll back over and glare at him. He sat up suddenly, towering over the smaller male.
"She deserves someone that doesn't have a psychotic monster living inside of him, okay?!" he barked, startling the fairy and causing him to shrink behind his over-sized red wings, "There, I said it! Are you happy?"
"You know she doesn't care about that," Shun'o mumbled, still hiding his mouth behind one of his wings, "She knows he won't hurt her. He's a part of you." Ichigo flopped back down into the gossamer healing shield and covered his eyes with his arm. Even if the thing talking to him looked like a boy, it was still part of Orihime and still painfully naïve. Even worse, his words had Ichigo's hollow moving again; even though he was still silent, Ichigo could tell he was feeling smug about something.
"Just shut up and keep healing me," he mumbled. Even though he was perfectly fine now, he was unwilling to leave the warmth of that comforting golden dome. And it wasn't long after those words left his mouth that he fell off to sleep entirely.
Series: Bleach
Rating: T
Warnings: het (IchiHime, IsshinHime), May/December relationship
Spoilers: Through current chapters (418)
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. 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.
___________________________________________
"I need to talk to you."
The sandy-blond, shaggy-haired man raised an eyebrow beneath his striped bucket hat. His entire expression bespoke incredulity, as though Ichigo had just said the sky was blue or the grass was green.
"Obviously," Urahara observed drily from behind his fan, shielding his smirk, "It must be urgent for you to leave the house in that, Kurosaki-san."
Ichigo spared an exasperated glance downwards. In his rush to get out of the house, he'd thrown on the first things he'd laid hands on. As such, he'd wound up in a wrinkled green t-shirt, purple pants, and red shoes. He sighed and slapped his forehead, hoping no one had seen him on his way here. That was all he needed now.
"Forget what I'm wearing," he grumbled, raking his fingers through his hair, "I have a problem and I don't know who else to ask."
"You don't need to buy medicine from me, you know," Urahara commented, poking the bruise Ichigo'd been concealing beneath his shirt, "Inoue-san will heal you for free. Although if you want to waste your money with me, you're more than welcome to..." Ichigo sighed and leaned forward. He rested his forehead in his hands, the elbows of which were perched on the low table Urahara had seated them at.
"That's just the problem," Ichigo groaned miserably, "Inoue..." Urahara's expression was still interested, but he was also still hiding it behind his fan.
"Ahh, Kurosaki-san is having girl problems," he observed, not without a little glee in his voice. Ichigo glared over at him mutinously between his hands.
"She's going to marry my dad next week," Ichigo said, probably more miserably than he'd meant to. It wasn't like he could bring himself to care at this point, though. Urahara's eyebrows disappeared completely beneath his hat.
"And you're jealous," Urahara observed evenly. Ichigo released his forehead and slammed his fists on the table.
"I'm not jealous!" he yelled. Urahara didn't even flinch.
"Then what's the problem?" the ex-captain asked. Ichigo balked at him openly.
"What's the problem?!" he repeated incredulously, "She's... She's Inoue and he's Dad, that's the problem! She's my age!" Urahara finally lowered his fan, snapping it shut.
"You do realize that your father is pretty old, being a shinigami and all, right?" Urahara observed calmly, "Any human girl he decided to date would be much younger than him."
"You're not helping as much as you think you are," Ichigo ground out between his teeth. He really didn't want to think of the age difference between his mom and dad right now.
"What I'm saying is, as long as it's legal, you should give him a break," Urahara said lightly, "If he and Inoue-san are in love, then..."
"They're not in love, and it's still gross," Ichigo snapped, "It doesn't matter how old he is, he has a son her age. And she only agreed to marry him because he asked. It's messed up."
"Well," Urahara mused, his sing-song voice making Ichigo's eye twitch again, "Maybe he figured your sisters could use a mother figure?"
"Yeah?" Ichigo snapped, "Then why's he sleeping with her? She could be a mother figure to them without marrying him!" Urahara's unflappable demeanor was only serving to make Ichigo even angrier.
"I don't know many men who could resist the temptation to sleep with Inoue-san, if given the opportunity," Urahara observed philosophically, "But it seems like you only have a problem with it because it's Inoue-san..."
"Yes!"
"Then you're jealous."
"No!"
"Then what do you call it?"
Ichigo paused in his wrath, perplexed by the question. He couldn't be jealous - he'd wanted Orihime to find someone else, right? Just... not his dad.
"I don't... I don't know," he admitted begrudgingly, "But I'm not jealous."
"If you say so," Urahara waved him off, his eyes betraying the fact that he didn't really believe him, "But if you dated her, she'd still be a big sister figure to your sisters. Your father probably wouldn't mind; like you said, there's no love there, right?"
"I don't want to date her!" Ichigo blurted out defensively, his face staining a deep red, "I just... don't want her to date him!" At this point, Urahara seemed to have grown bored.
"Well, that's childish," Urahara said with a yawn, "Why don't you get one of your school friends to date her instead?"
Ichigo stared at his hands, still feeling his cheeks overheat. Would he be able to do that? The annoyed grumbling from his hollow told him all he needed to know. Besides, he'd already beat up all those guys at school who thought they were going out; could he really leave protecting her from assholes like that to someone like Uryuu? Chad might be able to handle it, but he already caught enough crap just because he looked tough. He didn't need more problems because Ichigo was being too chickenshit to solve his own problems.
He sighed heavily, giving Urahara a weary look.
"So you're saying this is my problem," Ichigo finally admitted. Urahara hummed his ascent with a small smirk.
"Fine," Ichigo nearly whined, "I'll fix it myself! But... I guess I'll buy some medicine while I'm here."
_________________________________________________________________________________
"I'm home..."
It was almost noon before Ichigo came trudging back through the door of his family's clinic. His spirits were even lower than when he left, if that was even possible. He had spent the past hour wandering around town in the chilly, pre-spring air without a coat. He was also fairly sure his reputation was ruined with the horrible outfit he'd flung on in his rush to leave the house, but he hoped he'd looked sick enough that everyone would attribute it to that. Hopefully, the paper bag of medicine he'd gotten from Urahara had completed the appearance.
As soon as he came through the door and looked up, though, he knew his wandering had been a mistake. He was immediately met by a pair of large, honey brown doe eyes, staring up at him tearfully.
"Ichigo-kun..."
He froze in place, hiding the bag behind his back. Sadly, he could not ever hide the fact that he was injured from Orihime. At this point, she'd seen him with so many injuries that she could sense when he was hurt. Ichigo sighed; he should've known better.
Fortunately for his nerves (and his hormones), Orihime had changed out of his dad's shirt and was now in her own clothes, one of her familiar clingy cotton blouses paired with a long, flowery skirt. She'd even braided her hair into two long pigtails, pulled to either side of her face. She looked so painfully sweet that it made Ichigo's heart ache.
"I'm fine," he grumbled, his voice softer than he'd intended. Orihime looked unconvinced.
"You've been hurt all morning," she said gently, "Let me heal you."
"You don't have to," he mumbled, trying to move past her. Instead, she laid her hand on his chest and fixed him with a pleading look. And then Ichigo knew he was done for.
The house was eerily quiet as she led him upstairs to his bedroom. Ichigo figured his sisters were gone for the morning and his father had never returned from wherever he'd gone off to, leaving the house to just him and Orihime. From the smell of things, she'd been cleaning when he came back. Even so, as they wordlessly entered his room, she looked fretful. Had he worried her that badly this morning?
"Lay down, okay?" she said quietly, motioning to his bed. Ichigo did as he was told for once, laying on the bright blue bedspread and turning his face towards the wall. Orihime pulled his desk chair over and sat facing him. Without another word, he felt Orihime's golden healing dome surround him.
It was as if he'd forgotten how warm and just plain good that power of hers felt. His tensed muscles, which had caused his hands and stomach to clench, were slowly relaxing into that golden light. Her faint scent surrounded him, vanilla and milk soothing his senses. He felt his weary eyelids droop as he was quickly lulled into a doze. In fact, had it not been for Orihime's voice, he'd have simply melted into unconsciousness then and there.
"Ichigo-kun?" she asked softly, barely more than a whisper. Ichigo acknowledged her by turning his head towards her voice, but he still did not open his eyes. Instead, he hummed an inquiry, content to just enjoy the feeling of being mended by her powers.
"Are you... Are you angry with me?"
This caused him to crack an eye open and look at her. Her pretty brown eyes seemed to be shimmering with unshed tears and her lips were pursed to keep them from trembling. She was fisting her skirt in her hands, twisting the fabric nervously. At the sight of her distressed face, Ichigo felt a sudden pang of guilt jolt him out of his relaxation. He had been acting out, and it had worried her.
"I can't be angry with you, Inoue," he murmured, looking away and hoping the healing shield would disguise his blush.
"Then why...?"
"I don't want you to marry my dad," Ichigo stated firmly, but softly, "That's all." Silence fell between the two for a long while, as though Orihime was waiting for something.
"Am I... not good enough?" she finally asked, her voice quivering as she forced back a sob. Ichigo regarded her with a pained look. Wasn't this what Urahara had told him to do? He'd stated what he wanted clearly, but then she took it like that-!
"Of course you are," he replied defensively, moving to sit up, "But it's... it's just not right..." She reached over to push him back down onto his back, leaning over and brushing him with her generous breasts in the process.
"I-If you don't want me in your family, I understand," she said quietly, "But please give me a chance? I'll be a good wife for your father, I promise." Ichigo fought back a blush; she was nearly on top of him now, watery eyes half-lidded. If circumstances had been different, maybe they would have...
"It's not that!" he protested weakly. But it was no good; Orihime was giving him that pleading, searching look again, as if she was waiting on him to do something. But what?
It really wasn't that Ichigo didn't want Orihime around. He enjoyed her presence and appreciated her skill at healing. There was just something about being around her that soothed him. In fact, it was that simple fact that had made him start pushing her away; since when had he deserved something so good? Anything as sweet as Orihime would just end badly for him. Hueco Mundo had taught him that.
Still, the more he thought about her with his father, the angrier it made him. Why him? Why not one of the guys in school? But once again, Ichigo came to the same conclusion he had reached at Urahara's; he didn't want to think about her with any other man, not even the ones at school. None of them were good enough.
"I have to go finish the chores," Orihime finally said softly, rising. Ichigo felt like he'd said completely the wrong thing, once again. At this rate, he might as well just lodge his foot in his mouth and leave it there. A second later, she'd left him alone again, except for her fairies. If he wasn't imagining things, the one closest to his head was giving him a piteous look.
"What?" he asked gruffly, causing the red-clad fairy to ruffle slightly. The blond blushed a bit at finally being acknowledged after so long, but went back to what he was doing.
"Orihime is trying her best," the little blond with the top-knot chirped sadly, "She really just wants to make you happy." Ichigo turned away from the tiny creature. Great, now he was blushing, too. But what could he say to him? He was sure that whatever they discussed would be relayed back to Orihime, one way or the other.
"She does make me happy," he finally murmured.
"But you're not happy now," the fairy, Ichigo thought his name was Shun'o, observed. Ichigo sighed; he was determined to drag something out of him one way or the other.
"I'm not jealous, okay?" Ichigo cut him off before he could even start, "I just don't like it. That's all." The fairy fretted.
"You could stop everything if you wanted to," Shun'o pointed out, causing Ichigo to roll to his side to face away from him. Ichigo was perfectly well aware that he was Orihime's first choice. In practicality, however, that didn't matter.
"I can't do that," he grumbled, "She deserves someone that can take better care of her than I can." The fairy put his hands on his hips and did his best impression of Ichigo's own scowl.
"You take care of her just fine," the blond huffed, causing Ichigo to roll back over and glare at him. He sat up suddenly, towering over the smaller male.
"She deserves someone that doesn't have a psychotic monster living inside of him, okay?!" he barked, startling the fairy and causing him to shrink behind his over-sized red wings, "There, I said it! Are you happy?"
"You know she doesn't care about that," Shun'o mumbled, still hiding his mouth behind one of his wings, "She knows he won't hurt her. He's a part of you." Ichigo flopped back down into the gossamer healing shield and covered his eyes with his arm. Even if the thing talking to him looked like a boy, it was still part of Orihime and still painfully naïve. Even worse, his words had Ichigo's hollow moving again; even though he was still silent, Ichigo could tell he was feeling smug about something.
"Just shut up and keep healing me," he mumbled. Even though he was perfectly fine now, he was unwilling to leave the warmth of that comforting golden dome. And it wasn't long after those words left his mouth that he fell off to sleep entirely.
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