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queenofchalices) wrote2009-08-15 02:28 am
queenofchalices) wrote2009-08-15 02:28 am
Entry tags:
And the whispered secrets go on and on...
Title: The Devil's Plaything, Chapter 3 - Red on Black
Series: Bleach
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, het (IchiHime, lots of other pairings eventually), blood, guts, testosterone, ANGST
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 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 metal door leading to the open air at the school roof slammed open hard, a tinny noise reverberating across the empty, fenced-in space. Two teenage boys marched through the open door, one practically shoving the other onto the roof, as a girl with short, black hair followed behind with dainty steps. As the door creaked shut again, the taller boy with the blood-red hair turned and shoved the boy with the bright orange hair hard into the brick beside the door.
"What the hell is the big idea?!" Ichigo yelled in protest, pushing himself off the wall and back towards the redhead before him. The man before him scowled and pointed a finger, his eye twitching.
"I could ask you the exact same question!" came the equally loud and angry reply, "You got a lot of balls, going out in public without a limiter, you know that?" Ichigo could feel his blood pressure rise.
"What does that even mean?!" he shot back, "You guys are the ones that've been shooting me nasty looks all morning! And who told you you could just come and grab me at my desk!?" The snarling redhead looked as if he might lunge at Ichigo at any second.
Before anything drastic could happen, though, the petite, black-haired girl laid a small hand on the taller man's shoulder. In an odd display of the strength belying her small frame, she pulled back only slightly, causing her companion to jerk backwards suddenly.
"Down, Renji," she said softly, coolly, "We wanted to speak to you, Kurosaki Ichigo. Privately." The girl - her name was Rukia, right? - pinned Ichigo with her piercing gaze. Silently, he grumbled to himself about these two throwing his name around like they were doing; it wasn't as if they'd ever introduced themselves to him.
"Could've done that without making asses of yourselves," he replied, staring mutinously at them. Suddenly, and without warning, Rukia's small hand made contact beneath Ichigo's chin, tossing his head back violently into the brick.
"Speak for yourself!" Rukia rebutted, "I have been perfectly polite! It is not my fault that you two act like petulant children!" Ichigo felt his head swim as he pulled it back away from the wall. He could swear there would be an indent from where she'd shoved his head into the bricks. Palming his injured chin gingerly and swearing at the pain in his right shoulder, he cast the nastiest glare he could muster towards the odd couple before him.
"Who's a petulant child?" he yelled in return, "You're the one shoving people's heads into walls!" A second strike came, this time to his stomach, causing him to double over as Rukia removed her foot from his gut. They'd only just met and already Ichigo wanted to punt her off the roof.
"I would like to ask you a few questions," Rukia continued, as if she'd never been interrupted at all, "Specifically, about what you were doing last night." Ichigo felt his heart leap to his throat. Did these two know? They had to know, if they were asking questions about it! But how? They hadn't even spoken to him or Inoue, and he'd kept his eye on her all morning! Renji, for his part, raised a tattooed eyebrow at her as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.
"I'm the one that needs to stand down?" he muttered incredulously, "That's one helluva interrogation technique, Rukia." Rukia turned back to give Renji a winning smile and a thumbs up.
"It's 'Good Cop, Bad Cop'!" she said enthusiastically, "I even practiced in the bathroom this morning!" Ichigo stared in disbelief at the bizarre interlude; these two were nuttier than a kilo of fruitcake, weren't they?
"Shouldn't that be 'Bad Cop, Worse Cop'?" Ichigo retorted, earning a glare from Rukia as he stood back up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "Anyway, thanks for asking, but I spent last night with my dad, patching Inoue's dog bite up. You can ask her if you don't believe me." Ichigo almost swore as the words left his mouth. Judging from their expressions, and the snort escaping from Renji's lips, neither of them believed him.
"A 'dog bite'," Renji scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Rukia raised an eyebrow, but kept her attention focused on Ichigo.
"Look, Ichigo," Rukia spoke, her tone stern and serious now, "Lying to us is pointless. We saw the whole thing." Ichigo's eyes flew open at that statement. How the hell could they have seen it? No one else was in that alley! And did that mean these two were actually demons, as well? Ichigo silently cursed a blue streak.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied instinctively, a bead of sweat trailing down his brow, "Whoever you saw, it wasn't me." He knew denying it was probably pointless, but admitting the truth could be more devastating. God only knew what would happen to his family if his little problem were discovered.
"Really?" Rukia shot back coolly, "Then I suppose we imagined those ronin and that alleyway that looked like an abattoir when you were done with them. And you running out of it, holding Inoue." Ichigo felt pinned down. He didn't know what these two were after, but they had him by the proverbial balls.
"You really were imagining things if you think I know any samurai," he replied, picking out the one thing that had stuck out in Rukia's accusations. He tried to keep his face level as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, scowling. For his part, Renji looked like he was developing a headache.
"Not samurai, you dumbass," he grumbled, shaking his head, "Ronin! Masterless demons that don't belong to any house or family! Augh, everyone knows this, why am I even explaining it to you?!" Ichigo's scowl deepened; he knew when he was being insulted.
"How the hell would I know that?!" Ichigo yelled back, "I'm not a demon! I'm just as human as everyone else in this school!" Rukia crossed her own arms in response.
"Are you really?" she asked, fixing him with that intense stare again. Something with the way she asked it told Ichigo that she already knew the answer and expected him to know it as well. "Tell me," she continued, "Have you even looked in the mirror this morning?"
"I don't pay attention to stuff like that," he responded swiftly. Ichigo's brows knitted together in confusion; what was she talking about? Was there something on his face he hadn't noticed? Inoue had looked as if there was something odd about him before they went to class this morning, hadn't she? And what did any of this have to do with their current conversation? Rukia pointed a slender finger up towards his face.
"Your eyes are red and practically glowing right now," she stated plainly, "If you were wearing an inhibitor, this would not be a problem. But I can clearly see that you're agitated and would like to fight." This had actually managed to take Ichigo off guard; he hadn't noticed his eyes were a different color. Not that they were too far off to begin with, but red definitely wasn't a normal color by any stretch of the imagination.
"Yeah, I'd love nothing more than kicking both your asses right now," Ichigo retorted, scowling to hide his confusion, "But lunch is only half an hour, and I'm hungry. So if you're done playing twenty questions..." Before he could finish, however, Renji planted a hand beside his head on the wall behind him, effectively caging him as he drew dangerously close to Ichigo's face.
"Not yet, we aren't," he said in a low voice, "We wanna know about that girl." Ichigo's eyes narrowed to slits; he was certain he could feel them burning now. Was that what Rukia was saying about his eyes? He certainly felt like decking Renji right now.
"You don't need to know anything about Inoue," he nearly spat, "Stay away from her." Renji's red eyes seemed to bore into him, almost as if he was looking for something.
"You do that to her neck?" Renji pressed on, ignoring Ichigo's protests, "She your Mark?" Even though he couldn't make out what Renji was even talking about, something in Ichigo's blood lept at the last comment. Perhaps it was a stray heartbeat; perhaps he imagined it. Either way, he didn't like being accused of causing such grievous damage to such an innocent girl.
"What?! Why the hell would you even think that?!" Ichigo shot back, his blood beginning to pump faster, "Do I seem like the kind of guy that goes around tearing girls' throats out?!" As if to make the entire scene more ridiculous, Ichigo could swear he saw the answer written on both their faces: Yes, you do.
"Are you the 'kind of guy' that kills four Ronin for no reason?" Rukia retorted from behind Renji. Ichigo pushed away from the wall, almost butting heads with Renji in his fury.
"It wasn't for no reason!" he screamed, a second too late to stop himself, "S-Shit!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized exactly what he'd admitted to; and from the way the eyes of the pair in front of him were fixated on him, he knew they had, too. Renji backed up a bit, a feral grin stretching across his face. One hand went to the goggles that rested on his forehead.
"He's rabid!" the redhead exclaimed gleefully. It was yet another thing Ichigo couldn't understand; one more thing to push him towards the edge.
"What the hell does that even mean?!" he demanded, nearly coming at Renji before he stopped himself. Renji's wicked smile didn't waver.
"May I?" Renji asked Rukia, who simply turned her head away.
"So violent," she sniffed, "You know our orders." Ichigo's anger flickered for a moment; now what were they talking about? What orders?
"Right, right," Renji replied evenly before turning back to Ichigo, "Kurosaki Ichigo! For the sin of murdering your own kind and of leaving your Mark on a human, in accordance with the laws of the Demon Realm, the House of Pride has hereby authorized its Lieutenant, Abarai Renji, to carry out your execution!" Before Ichigo could protest, Renji pulled the goggles loose from his forehead, unleashing a flurry of smoke and a burst of white light. Blinking away the dust in his eyes, Ichigo's vision refocused on the demon before him.
Physically, Renji hadn't changed much, if at all. His eyes and hair were still that impossible red, if perhaps a bit brighter. Now, though, they seemed to glow with a sinister light. No, his clothing was what had really changed. Instead of his school uniform he now wore a black hakama and a cream-colored fur mantle clasped with the teeth of a wild animal slung about his shoulders. Ichigo could've sworn the shoulder guards fitted over it were even actually skulls. He could also see the black tattoos extending down from Renji's eyebrows and covering his neck and broad chest. The most frightening part of it all, though, was the wicked blade Renji held in his right hand; it was the length of a regular katana, but wider and with protrusions that curved keenly backwards. Ichigo's eyes widened. If this was exactly what had happened to him the previous night, then he too really could be...
"Don't make this hard on yourself," Renji smirked, readying himself for a strike, "Just stay still and it'll all be over soon." Ichigo's mind snapped back to the demon before him. He'd said 'execution'! There was no way he'd let that happen! Without further warning, Renji raised his hand, his sword coming disjointed and snaking out towards Ichigo like whip, the curved protrusions each forming their own link in the sword-chain. Just a second ahead of the blade, Ichigo rolled away, the steel connecting with the brick wall behind him instead.
"You're making a mistake!" he screamed, feeling white-hot fury roil within his blood. If he could just remember what he'd done last night, how he'd called forth that nodachi, that power -- if he could just remember! It occurred to him as debris from the now-scarred wall pelted him that he'd been beaten nearly to death to use it the first time. When faced with the possibility of trying that a second time, he quickly went about thinking of other ways to possibly call that power out again.
"I don't think so, criminal!" Renji shouted back, grinning. The taller man launched himself into the air, his mantle flapping wildly above him as he hurtled towards Ichigo like a meteor. The scowling teenager barely had time to lift his arms to shield his face as Renji's segmented sword slammed into him, splitting the skin on his left forearms in one clean, red line. Burning pain shot up his arm, causing Ichigo to roar in agony and anger. For his part, Renji looked nonplussed as his extended sword clattered to the school roof along with several splatters of blood from Ichigo's arm.
"You actually blocked that?" he asked, no small measure of disbelief showing in his voice, "Too bad. I bet if you'd had a real upbringing, you'd be pretty strong. Shame we'll never find out, huh?" Ichigo barely heard what he was saying. He was sure Renji'd just insulted his parents somehow, but the blood and rage thundering in his ears had left him almost deaf and he was sure he'd be unable to form anything other than angry howls at this point anyway. Eyes flashing with fury, he lost sight of anything other than Renji's face, flying towards it faster than he thought he'd ever moved in his life. His right fist was raised to strike; lack of a sword be damned, last night's wounds be damned, he was going to wipe the smug grin off that bastard's face. Wait... he was so close... why was Renji still smiling?
Before Ichigo could make contact with Renji's jaw, something stopped him short. The anger melted from his face as he hazily wondered why his punch hadn't landed yet. It was then that he felt something warm running down his stomach. Confused, Ichigo looked down to see that serrated sword protruding from his torn school shirt. A large, crimson flower was beginning to bloom around it on the white fabric. The searing hot pain washed over Ichigo like a wave then, almost drowning him. How far back was that sword in his midsection? When had he retracted it to form a solid blade again? Ichigo hadn't noticed the links clanking back together while he was running; he hadn't noticed much of anything around him at that point, really. He tried to form words, any words, but failed as his mouth filled with his own hot, frothing blood.
Renji's sword freed itself with a sharp yank, causing Ichigo to gasp and jerk forward. Before he could lose his balance, though, Renji's foot slammed into his back, knocking him face-first into the concrete of the school roof and pinning him there. As the cold roof scraped against his cheek, Ichigo realized fuzzily that he was now laying in the middle of a warm pool; his own blood was spreading quickly beneath him, pain sending arcs of fire from his ribcage out toward the rest of his body. He was vaguely aware of the shadow of a sword coming to rest squarely across the back of his head. Was that Renji, too?
"It's over." He heard Renji say it as though he were underwater. Before the expected blow came, though, he heard the sound of a bell. It was loud and hazy, but still sounded as if it were coming from very far away. Ichigo vaguely recognized it as the school's bell, signaling that lunch was now over.
Renji froze, poised to bring his sword down and deliver the blow that would separate Ichigo's head from his shoulders. Red eyes widening, he turned to Rukia, who had been observing the carnage from several feet away. She folded her arms over her petite frame, giving Renji an impassive stare.
"Leave him there," she said coolly, "We're already late getting back to class, and we have appearances to maintain." With a flick of her wrist, she tossed Renji's sleek, silver goggles in his direction. He caught them deftly and set about situating them on his head again.
"This is so sloppy," he grumbled, pushing his widow's peak back with the silver and glass eyepiece, "I don't like leaving him like this." As soon as the goggles were in place, a white light seemed to emanate from them. In a flash, Renji was once again dressed in his clean school uniform, his sword having vanished into thin air.
"You're just bloodthirsty," Rukia scoffed, walking towards the door that led downstairs, "He will bleed out in a few minutes, anyway. We can come collect the body after school." Renji snorted, waiting a second too long to follow her.
"Oi, that's not fair!" he protested, having to run to the door as she went through, not bothering to hold it for him, "I'm just doing my job! Geez, this assignment sucks. Why do we have to do this anyway?"
"Because we look the youngest," she replied simply, "Now, stop complaining. It's unbecoming of your status." Their footsteps retreated down the stairs, echoing faintly as they faded away.
The door leading to the stairway clattered shut behind the two demons, leaving Ichigo laying face down on the roof by himself. His eyes were half-lidded, mostly unaware of anything going on about him. Sure, he heard Rukia and Renji leave. He might have even registered a word or two they were saying, feeling something like vague relief that the bell had rang when it did. But beyond that, his thoughts were faint and jumbled, more concerned about his sudden difficulty breathing than anything else.
'What's wrong with me?' Ichigo wondered to himself, no longer strong enough to actually speak. His chest was burning and he seemed unable to breathe deeply, as though there was a weight pressing him down. Then, as suddenly as Renji and Rukia's voices had stopped, another voice wandered into his field of consciousness accompanied by the sound of wood clacking against concrete.
"Hyuuuuuuu!" it said in something akin to fascination, "I thought those two were never going to leave! You're in pretty bad shape, aren't you?" Ichigo vaguely wondered if the man was talking to him, then sluggishly wondered just how stupid he'd have to be to even ask that.
'Of course I'm in bad shape,' Ichigo thought dully. Suddenly, he felt himself being rolled onto his back and his shirt being pulled apart. Even being as overcast as it was, he could make out two fuzzy figures standing over him and peering down, the gray sunlight making it difficult to make out any of their features.
"My, oh my!" the cheerful man continued as Ichigo's eyes slid shut to shield them from the sunlight, "We'll have to work fast." He felt himself suddenly being lifted by a pair of strong arms, the feeling of being suspended in midair reminding him vaguely of floating in the ocean. As a small breeze hit his face and he realized he was being held against a broad chest, his mind finally went dark and slipped into unconsciousness.
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Orihime glanced up at the classroom's clock impatiently. It was two minutes until the three o'clock bell would ring, signaling the end of the school day. Her eyes hadn't strayed far from that clock since the lunch hour ended and Kurosaki-kun hadn't returned to the classroom. She'd already entertained several possibilities as to why he had vanished with the two transfer students during lunch and never made his way back to his desk.
Perhaps they were yakuza. The boy certainly looked the part, with his tattoos and ponytail, but what about his black-haired companion? Was she a yakuza princess, and he her bodyguard? What if Kurosaki-kun had crossed their family by taking out a bad loan and they'd left at lunch to exact their payment?
Orihime chewed her pencil in frustrated worry. No, that couldn't be it; Kurosaki-kun's family seemed to be doing well, so it had to be something else. Perhaps the two were alien scouts, sent to collect interesting specimens for an alien version of Noah's Ark. Now that the aliens had Kurosaki-kun, surely they were already speeding away in their spaceship, back to Alpha Centauri! Even Orihime had to admit that that one was a bit far-fetched - everyone knew the Grays liked to collect humans, and they were obviously from Rigel and not Alpha Centauri. It certainly wasn't helping lighten the heavy stone of worry that had settled deep in the pit of her stomach, either way.
Finally, the afternoon bell rang, releasing her from the confines of her overactive imagination and allowing her to breathe a little easier. Now she could simply visit Kurosaki-kun's house and check on him while she was there; it wouldn't be odd at all, since she still had her wound and Kurosaki-san had asked her to stop by so he could check on it.
She packed her school bag quickly, dodging Chizuru-chan's amorous hands and politely declining Tatsuki-chan's offer to walk her home. Orihime realized sadly that no matter what, she couldn't tell Tatsuki-chan about what had happened the night before; she had made Kurosaki-kun that promise, after all, and who knew if it would put her in danger or not. With that thought in mind, she ducked out of the classroom and down the school steps.
The weather was much like the previous day's, frosty and gray, causing Orihime to stare into the sky, wondering if it might snow today. She shivered, recalling that the last time she'd been in her apartment, yesterday morning, she'd forgotten to grab a jacket or sweater in her haste and was now paying for it the second day in a row. She glanced around at the bare trees, hoping they'd bud and fill out with leaves soon, signaling the relief that would come with a proper spring.
Orihime allowed her feet to guide her towards the clinic run by Kurosaki-kun's father. She was quietly surprised to find that she remembered just how to get there; it wasn't far from her own apartment or the school, really, and she'd been there before if she was remembering properly. That had been the day Nii-sama had had his accident, hadn't it? Kurosaki-san was the doctor that had treated him then, too, wasn't he?
Shaking her head clear of such depressing thoughts, Orihime looked down the road towards the clinic. To her surprise, she saw a tall figure ahead of her on the sidewalk leading to the Kurosaki family's door. He had to have been at least a full thirty centimeters taller than her, with messy brown hair that fell into his face, a slight tan, and a muscular frame highlighted by the tight, bright orange shirt he was wearing. Orihime recognized him instantly.
"Sado-kun!" she called, waving to him as she ran down the sidewalk to catch up with him. He must have taken a shortcut from school to get here so fast, she reckoned. It did make sense; he and Kurosaki-kun had been close since junior high, hadn't they? The tall Mexican turned to regard her as she ran up to him, panting.
"Were you looking for Kurosaki-kun, too?" Orihime asked, looking up at him from beneath her bangs, which had been securely tucked behind her ears. She hadn't dared remove her hairpins after putting them in first thing that morning.
"Mmm," the giant affirmed with a nod of his head. Orihime smiled softly to herself; Sado-kun was also worried about him, which meant she wasn't crazy. That might not have been a good thing, though; if Sado-kun was also worried, that might mean something really bad had happened.
"We can go ask together, then," she said, putting a smile firmly on her face as she looked up at him, "And I have to see Kurosaki-san about my bandages, anyway." The taller man nodded down at Orhime as they began moving towards the clinic in step.
It was only a few more steps to the gate, and within the minute, they were standing in the lobby of the small clinic, the bells on the glass door tinkling behind them. They only had to wait a few seconds before Ichigo's blonde sister, Yuzu, poked her head from around a corner.
"Daddy!" she called over her shoulder, "Orihime-chan and Sado-kun are here!" There was silence for a second before a set of heavy footsteps came barreling up behind Yuzu. Isshin stopped short, poking his head around the corner just above his daughter's.
"Yuzu, she came back!" he said in a stage whisper, no small amount of delight in his voice, "Daddy might have another daughter soon after all!" Of course, Orihime and Sado heard every word. For her part, Orihime became keenly aware of a warm blush spreading across her cheeks.
"A-Ahh, g-good afternoon, Kurosaki-san!" she pressed on, smiling awkwardly at the attention as he emerged from around the corner, "Sado-kun and I were just wondering if you'd seen Kurosaki-kun. He left school at lunch and we haven't seen him since..." Isshin scratched at the stubble on his chin as he looked up at the ceiling, a small look of confusion flickering across his face before being replaced again by a feigned look of disinterest.
"Oh, that," he said, waving his other hand dismissively, "I had him go over to his aunt's. She's sick and needs some help for a few days." Yuzu seemed genuinely confused.
"But Daddy, we don't ha--" She stopped short as her father's hand clamped over her mouth.
"Now, Yuzu, I know you worry about your brother's attendance record, but he hasn't missed a day of school this year, so I don't think he'll get in trouble with the teachers!" Orihime blinked. Isshin made it sound so natural, but she was sure there was something she was missing here.
"O-Oh," Orihime answered, not wanting to press the issue. If Isshin was confident Ichigo was okay, then surely he was. "W-Well, you did say to come back so you could check on my bandages, right?" Isshin's smile brightened again as he waved Orihime back towards the examining room.
"Of course! Right this way, and we'll see how it's doing." As Orihime was led towards the back of the clinic, Sado turned to go with a wave. "Ah, not so fast," Isshin called over his shoulder, "When I'm done with this, I need a word with you, Sado-kun. I have a favor I need to ask you." The tall teenager raised an eyebrow, but otherwise said nothing, nodding his assent and staying put.
Orihime, for her part, followed Isshin back towards the exam room she'd been placed in the previous night. Everything looked just as clean and neat as she'd remembered it; the cot was made, the instruments put away, the chairs rearranged.
"Hop up on the table there, and I'll take your bandages off," Isshin said, busying himself with pulling a pair of rubber gloves out of the cabinet above the sink. Orihime placed her hands on the exam table, pushing herself off the floor and seating herself on the crinkly paper covering. In short order, her black-haired doctor pulled a chair over in much the same manner his son had done the night before and began putting his gloves on.
"Does it hurt at all?" he asked, reaching up and unhooking the edge of the bandage. Orihime fought the urge to shake her head.
"No! It's really not hurt since I woke up this morning!" she replied enthusiastically. And it was true; the wound hadn't really hurt since she'd woke up that morning. Then again, she reasoned, it might be because she hadn't really been paying attention to it. As Isshin unwound her bandages, though, she noticed his eyebrows raise until they were almost touching his hairline.
When the last bandages were free, he turned around to grab a small hand mirror from the counter behind him. He handed it to Orihime with a lopsided grin.
"Take a look," he said, his chest puffing out a bit. Orihime did as she was told, holding the mirror up to her face and neck. What she saw surprised her; as she inspected the skin on her neck with her hands, her mouth formed a small 'o' of astonishment.
"It's gone!" she exclaimed, fingering the place where a scar should have been. Her mind whirled; how could such a grievous wound have vanished overnight? Shouldn't there be at least a scar? Her gray eyes flickered up to see Isshin preen. Could it be that he was some kind of miracle worker? "That's amazing!"
"Thank you, thank you!" he said proudly, brushing his fingernails against his shirt. Orihime brought the mirror to rest in her lap, gazing at the doctor with open admiration.
"Oh, umm... H-How much do I owe you?" she asked sheepishly, "I don't have anything with me right now, b-but my aunt can wire something..." Isshin blinked for a second before grinning broadly again, clapping a large hand on Orihime's shoulder.
"Think nothing of it, Orihime-chan!" he said happily, "We're practically family, right?" Orihime blinked, but gave the taller man a genuine smile as she looked up at him.
"T-Thank you, Kurosaki-san!" she replied, relief filtering through her voice. Ichigo's father was a bit strange, but really, he was a very nice person. "Well, I don't want to be a bother, so..." She hopped off the table, regaining her balance as she hit the floor. The older man watched her with raised eyebrows.
"A word of advice before you go, though," Isshin started, causing Orihime to stop in her motion towards the door, "Don't take those hairpins off in public again. And don't walk home from school by yourself. Alright?" His tone was so serious that it caused Orihime to stare at him quizzically for a moment as she blinked in confusion. Wasn't that what her brother Sora had always told her, too?
"O-Okay," she replied, the confusion diffusing through her voice, "I'll remember, sir." Isshin quickly adopted his familiar, goofy grin again, which Orihime found infinitely preferable to his serious side.
"Send Sado-kun in here for a second, alright?" he asked, smiling "I'll only be a second. Then he can walk you home."
Orihime nodded, smiling and giving the doctor a grateful 'thank you' before heading out into the lobby to send Sado back to see him.
Series: Bleach
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, het (IchiHime, lots of other pairings eventually), blood, guts, testosterone, ANGST
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 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 metal door leading to the open air at the school roof slammed open hard, a tinny noise reverberating across the empty, fenced-in space. Two teenage boys marched through the open door, one practically shoving the other onto the roof, as a girl with short, black hair followed behind with dainty steps. As the door creaked shut again, the taller boy with the blood-red hair turned and shoved the boy with the bright orange hair hard into the brick beside the door.
"What the hell is the big idea?!" Ichigo yelled in protest, pushing himself off the wall and back towards the redhead before him. The man before him scowled and pointed a finger, his eye twitching.
"I could ask you the exact same question!" came the equally loud and angry reply, "You got a lot of balls, going out in public without a limiter, you know that?" Ichigo could feel his blood pressure rise.
"What does that even mean?!" he shot back, "You guys are the ones that've been shooting me nasty looks all morning! And who told you you could just come and grab me at my desk!?" The snarling redhead looked as if he might lunge at Ichigo at any second.
Before anything drastic could happen, though, the petite, black-haired girl laid a small hand on the taller man's shoulder. In an odd display of the strength belying her small frame, she pulled back only slightly, causing her companion to jerk backwards suddenly.
"Down, Renji," she said softly, coolly, "We wanted to speak to you, Kurosaki Ichigo. Privately." The girl - her name was Rukia, right? - pinned Ichigo with her piercing gaze. Silently, he grumbled to himself about these two throwing his name around like they were doing; it wasn't as if they'd ever introduced themselves to him.
"Could've done that without making asses of yourselves," he replied, staring mutinously at them. Suddenly, and without warning, Rukia's small hand made contact beneath Ichigo's chin, tossing his head back violently into the brick.
"Speak for yourself!" Rukia rebutted, "I have been perfectly polite! It is not my fault that you two act like petulant children!" Ichigo felt his head swim as he pulled it back away from the wall. He could swear there would be an indent from where she'd shoved his head into the bricks. Palming his injured chin gingerly and swearing at the pain in his right shoulder, he cast the nastiest glare he could muster towards the odd couple before him.
"Who's a petulant child?" he yelled in return, "You're the one shoving people's heads into walls!" A second strike came, this time to his stomach, causing him to double over as Rukia removed her foot from his gut. They'd only just met and already Ichigo wanted to punt her off the roof.
"I would like to ask you a few questions," Rukia continued, as if she'd never been interrupted at all, "Specifically, about what you were doing last night." Ichigo felt his heart leap to his throat. Did these two know? They had to know, if they were asking questions about it! But how? They hadn't even spoken to him or Inoue, and he'd kept his eye on her all morning! Renji, for his part, raised a tattooed eyebrow at her as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.
"I'm the one that needs to stand down?" he muttered incredulously, "That's one helluva interrogation technique, Rukia." Rukia turned back to give Renji a winning smile and a thumbs up.
"It's 'Good Cop, Bad Cop'!" she said enthusiastically, "I even practiced in the bathroom this morning!" Ichigo stared in disbelief at the bizarre interlude; these two were nuttier than a kilo of fruitcake, weren't they?
"Shouldn't that be 'Bad Cop, Worse Cop'?" Ichigo retorted, earning a glare from Rukia as he stood back up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "Anyway, thanks for asking, but I spent last night with my dad, patching Inoue's dog bite up. You can ask her if you don't believe me." Ichigo almost swore as the words left his mouth. Judging from their expressions, and the snort escaping from Renji's lips, neither of them believed him.
"A 'dog bite'," Renji scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Rukia raised an eyebrow, but kept her attention focused on Ichigo.
"Look, Ichigo," Rukia spoke, her tone stern and serious now, "Lying to us is pointless. We saw the whole thing." Ichigo's eyes flew open at that statement. How the hell could they have seen it? No one else was in that alley! And did that mean these two were actually demons, as well? Ichigo silently cursed a blue streak.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied instinctively, a bead of sweat trailing down his brow, "Whoever you saw, it wasn't me." He knew denying it was probably pointless, but admitting the truth could be more devastating. God only knew what would happen to his family if his little problem were discovered.
"Really?" Rukia shot back coolly, "Then I suppose we imagined those ronin and that alleyway that looked like an abattoir when you were done with them. And you running out of it, holding Inoue." Ichigo felt pinned down. He didn't know what these two were after, but they had him by the proverbial balls.
"You really were imagining things if you think I know any samurai," he replied, picking out the one thing that had stuck out in Rukia's accusations. He tried to keep his face level as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, scowling. For his part, Renji looked like he was developing a headache.
"Not samurai, you dumbass," he grumbled, shaking his head, "Ronin! Masterless demons that don't belong to any house or family! Augh, everyone knows this, why am I even explaining it to you?!" Ichigo's scowl deepened; he knew when he was being insulted.
"How the hell would I know that?!" Ichigo yelled back, "I'm not a demon! I'm just as human as everyone else in this school!" Rukia crossed her own arms in response.
"Are you really?" she asked, fixing him with that intense stare again. Something with the way she asked it told Ichigo that she already knew the answer and expected him to know it as well. "Tell me," she continued, "Have you even looked in the mirror this morning?"
"I don't pay attention to stuff like that," he responded swiftly. Ichigo's brows knitted together in confusion; what was she talking about? Was there something on his face he hadn't noticed? Inoue had looked as if there was something odd about him before they went to class this morning, hadn't she? And what did any of this have to do with their current conversation? Rukia pointed a slender finger up towards his face.
"Your eyes are red and practically glowing right now," she stated plainly, "If you were wearing an inhibitor, this would not be a problem. But I can clearly see that you're agitated and would like to fight." This had actually managed to take Ichigo off guard; he hadn't noticed his eyes were a different color. Not that they were too far off to begin with, but red definitely wasn't a normal color by any stretch of the imagination.
"Yeah, I'd love nothing more than kicking both your asses right now," Ichigo retorted, scowling to hide his confusion, "But lunch is only half an hour, and I'm hungry. So if you're done playing twenty questions..." Before he could finish, however, Renji planted a hand beside his head on the wall behind him, effectively caging him as he drew dangerously close to Ichigo's face.
"Not yet, we aren't," he said in a low voice, "We wanna know about that girl." Ichigo's eyes narrowed to slits; he was certain he could feel them burning now. Was that what Rukia was saying about his eyes? He certainly felt like decking Renji right now.
"You don't need to know anything about Inoue," he nearly spat, "Stay away from her." Renji's red eyes seemed to bore into him, almost as if he was looking for something.
"You do that to her neck?" Renji pressed on, ignoring Ichigo's protests, "She your Mark?" Even though he couldn't make out what Renji was even talking about, something in Ichigo's blood lept at the last comment. Perhaps it was a stray heartbeat; perhaps he imagined it. Either way, he didn't like being accused of causing such grievous damage to such an innocent girl.
"What?! Why the hell would you even think that?!" Ichigo shot back, his blood beginning to pump faster, "Do I seem like the kind of guy that goes around tearing girls' throats out?!" As if to make the entire scene more ridiculous, Ichigo could swear he saw the answer written on both their faces: Yes, you do.
"Are you the 'kind of guy' that kills four Ronin for no reason?" Rukia retorted from behind Renji. Ichigo pushed away from the wall, almost butting heads with Renji in his fury.
"It wasn't for no reason!" he screamed, a second too late to stop himself, "S-Shit!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized exactly what he'd admitted to; and from the way the eyes of the pair in front of him were fixated on him, he knew they had, too. Renji backed up a bit, a feral grin stretching across his face. One hand went to the goggles that rested on his forehead.
"He's rabid!" the redhead exclaimed gleefully. It was yet another thing Ichigo couldn't understand; one more thing to push him towards the edge.
"What the hell does that even mean?!" he demanded, nearly coming at Renji before he stopped himself. Renji's wicked smile didn't waver.
"May I?" Renji asked Rukia, who simply turned her head away.
"So violent," she sniffed, "You know our orders." Ichigo's anger flickered for a moment; now what were they talking about? What orders?
"Right, right," Renji replied evenly before turning back to Ichigo, "Kurosaki Ichigo! For the sin of murdering your own kind and of leaving your Mark on a human, in accordance with the laws of the Demon Realm, the House of Pride has hereby authorized its Lieutenant, Abarai Renji, to carry out your execution!" Before Ichigo could protest, Renji pulled the goggles loose from his forehead, unleashing a flurry of smoke and a burst of white light. Blinking away the dust in his eyes, Ichigo's vision refocused on the demon before him.
Physically, Renji hadn't changed much, if at all. His eyes and hair were still that impossible red, if perhaps a bit brighter. Now, though, they seemed to glow with a sinister light. No, his clothing was what had really changed. Instead of his school uniform he now wore a black hakama and a cream-colored fur mantle clasped with the teeth of a wild animal slung about his shoulders. Ichigo could've sworn the shoulder guards fitted over it were even actually skulls. He could also see the black tattoos extending down from Renji's eyebrows and covering his neck and broad chest. The most frightening part of it all, though, was the wicked blade Renji held in his right hand; it was the length of a regular katana, but wider and with protrusions that curved keenly backwards. Ichigo's eyes widened. If this was exactly what had happened to him the previous night, then he too really could be...
"Don't make this hard on yourself," Renji smirked, readying himself for a strike, "Just stay still and it'll all be over soon." Ichigo's mind snapped back to the demon before him. He'd said 'execution'! There was no way he'd let that happen! Without further warning, Renji raised his hand, his sword coming disjointed and snaking out towards Ichigo like whip, the curved protrusions each forming their own link in the sword-chain. Just a second ahead of the blade, Ichigo rolled away, the steel connecting with the brick wall behind him instead.
"You're making a mistake!" he screamed, feeling white-hot fury roil within his blood. If he could just remember what he'd done last night, how he'd called forth that nodachi, that power -- if he could just remember! It occurred to him as debris from the now-scarred wall pelted him that he'd been beaten nearly to death to use it the first time. When faced with the possibility of trying that a second time, he quickly went about thinking of other ways to possibly call that power out again.
"I don't think so, criminal!" Renji shouted back, grinning. The taller man launched himself into the air, his mantle flapping wildly above him as he hurtled towards Ichigo like a meteor. The scowling teenager barely had time to lift his arms to shield his face as Renji's segmented sword slammed into him, splitting the skin on his left forearms in one clean, red line. Burning pain shot up his arm, causing Ichigo to roar in agony and anger. For his part, Renji looked nonplussed as his extended sword clattered to the school roof along with several splatters of blood from Ichigo's arm.
"You actually blocked that?" he asked, no small measure of disbelief showing in his voice, "Too bad. I bet if you'd had a real upbringing, you'd be pretty strong. Shame we'll never find out, huh?" Ichigo barely heard what he was saying. He was sure Renji'd just insulted his parents somehow, but the blood and rage thundering in his ears had left him almost deaf and he was sure he'd be unable to form anything other than angry howls at this point anyway. Eyes flashing with fury, he lost sight of anything other than Renji's face, flying towards it faster than he thought he'd ever moved in his life. His right fist was raised to strike; lack of a sword be damned, last night's wounds be damned, he was going to wipe the smug grin off that bastard's face. Wait... he was so close... why was Renji still smiling?
Before Ichigo could make contact with Renji's jaw, something stopped him short. The anger melted from his face as he hazily wondered why his punch hadn't landed yet. It was then that he felt something warm running down his stomach. Confused, Ichigo looked down to see that serrated sword protruding from his torn school shirt. A large, crimson flower was beginning to bloom around it on the white fabric. The searing hot pain washed over Ichigo like a wave then, almost drowning him. How far back was that sword in his midsection? When had he retracted it to form a solid blade again? Ichigo hadn't noticed the links clanking back together while he was running; he hadn't noticed much of anything around him at that point, really. He tried to form words, any words, but failed as his mouth filled with his own hot, frothing blood.
Renji's sword freed itself with a sharp yank, causing Ichigo to gasp and jerk forward. Before he could lose his balance, though, Renji's foot slammed into his back, knocking him face-first into the concrete of the school roof and pinning him there. As the cold roof scraped against his cheek, Ichigo realized fuzzily that he was now laying in the middle of a warm pool; his own blood was spreading quickly beneath him, pain sending arcs of fire from his ribcage out toward the rest of his body. He was vaguely aware of the shadow of a sword coming to rest squarely across the back of his head. Was that Renji, too?
"It's over." He heard Renji say it as though he were underwater. Before the expected blow came, though, he heard the sound of a bell. It was loud and hazy, but still sounded as if it were coming from very far away. Ichigo vaguely recognized it as the school's bell, signaling that lunch was now over.
Renji froze, poised to bring his sword down and deliver the blow that would separate Ichigo's head from his shoulders. Red eyes widening, he turned to Rukia, who had been observing the carnage from several feet away. She folded her arms over her petite frame, giving Renji an impassive stare.
"Leave him there," she said coolly, "We're already late getting back to class, and we have appearances to maintain." With a flick of her wrist, she tossed Renji's sleek, silver goggles in his direction. He caught them deftly and set about situating them on his head again.
"This is so sloppy," he grumbled, pushing his widow's peak back with the silver and glass eyepiece, "I don't like leaving him like this." As soon as the goggles were in place, a white light seemed to emanate from them. In a flash, Renji was once again dressed in his clean school uniform, his sword having vanished into thin air.
"You're just bloodthirsty," Rukia scoffed, walking towards the door that led downstairs, "He will bleed out in a few minutes, anyway. We can come collect the body after school." Renji snorted, waiting a second too long to follow her.
"Oi, that's not fair!" he protested, having to run to the door as she went through, not bothering to hold it for him, "I'm just doing my job! Geez, this assignment sucks. Why do we have to do this anyway?"
"Because we look the youngest," she replied simply, "Now, stop complaining. It's unbecoming of your status." Their footsteps retreated down the stairs, echoing faintly as they faded away.
The door leading to the stairway clattered shut behind the two demons, leaving Ichigo laying face down on the roof by himself. His eyes were half-lidded, mostly unaware of anything going on about him. Sure, he heard Rukia and Renji leave. He might have even registered a word or two they were saying, feeling something like vague relief that the bell had rang when it did. But beyond that, his thoughts were faint and jumbled, more concerned about his sudden difficulty breathing than anything else.
'What's wrong with me?' Ichigo wondered to himself, no longer strong enough to actually speak. His chest was burning and he seemed unable to breathe deeply, as though there was a weight pressing him down. Then, as suddenly as Renji and Rukia's voices had stopped, another voice wandered into his field of consciousness accompanied by the sound of wood clacking against concrete.
"Hyuuuuuuu!" it said in something akin to fascination, "I thought those two were never going to leave! You're in pretty bad shape, aren't you?" Ichigo vaguely wondered if the man was talking to him, then sluggishly wondered just how stupid he'd have to be to even ask that.
'Of course I'm in bad shape,' Ichigo thought dully. Suddenly, he felt himself being rolled onto his back and his shirt being pulled apart. Even being as overcast as it was, he could make out two fuzzy figures standing over him and peering down, the gray sunlight making it difficult to make out any of their features.
"My, oh my!" the cheerful man continued as Ichigo's eyes slid shut to shield them from the sunlight, "We'll have to work fast." He felt himself suddenly being lifted by a pair of strong arms, the feeling of being suspended in midair reminding him vaguely of floating in the ocean. As a small breeze hit his face and he realized he was being held against a broad chest, his mind finally went dark and slipped into unconsciousness.
_________________________________________________________________
Orihime glanced up at the classroom's clock impatiently. It was two minutes until the three o'clock bell would ring, signaling the end of the school day. Her eyes hadn't strayed far from that clock since the lunch hour ended and Kurosaki-kun hadn't returned to the classroom. She'd already entertained several possibilities as to why he had vanished with the two transfer students during lunch and never made his way back to his desk.
Perhaps they were yakuza. The boy certainly looked the part, with his tattoos and ponytail, but what about his black-haired companion? Was she a yakuza princess, and he her bodyguard? What if Kurosaki-kun had crossed their family by taking out a bad loan and they'd left at lunch to exact their payment?
Orihime chewed her pencil in frustrated worry. No, that couldn't be it; Kurosaki-kun's family seemed to be doing well, so it had to be something else. Perhaps the two were alien scouts, sent to collect interesting specimens for an alien version of Noah's Ark. Now that the aliens had Kurosaki-kun, surely they were already speeding away in their spaceship, back to Alpha Centauri! Even Orihime had to admit that that one was a bit far-fetched - everyone knew the Grays liked to collect humans, and they were obviously from Rigel and not Alpha Centauri. It certainly wasn't helping lighten the heavy stone of worry that had settled deep in the pit of her stomach, either way.
Finally, the afternoon bell rang, releasing her from the confines of her overactive imagination and allowing her to breathe a little easier. Now she could simply visit Kurosaki-kun's house and check on him while she was there; it wouldn't be odd at all, since she still had her wound and Kurosaki-san had asked her to stop by so he could check on it.
She packed her school bag quickly, dodging Chizuru-chan's amorous hands and politely declining Tatsuki-chan's offer to walk her home. Orihime realized sadly that no matter what, she couldn't tell Tatsuki-chan about what had happened the night before; she had made Kurosaki-kun that promise, after all, and who knew if it would put her in danger or not. With that thought in mind, she ducked out of the classroom and down the school steps.
The weather was much like the previous day's, frosty and gray, causing Orihime to stare into the sky, wondering if it might snow today. She shivered, recalling that the last time she'd been in her apartment, yesterday morning, she'd forgotten to grab a jacket or sweater in her haste and was now paying for it the second day in a row. She glanced around at the bare trees, hoping they'd bud and fill out with leaves soon, signaling the relief that would come with a proper spring.
Orihime allowed her feet to guide her towards the clinic run by Kurosaki-kun's father. She was quietly surprised to find that she remembered just how to get there; it wasn't far from her own apartment or the school, really, and she'd been there before if she was remembering properly. That had been the day Nii-sama had had his accident, hadn't it? Kurosaki-san was the doctor that had treated him then, too, wasn't he?
Shaking her head clear of such depressing thoughts, Orihime looked down the road towards the clinic. To her surprise, she saw a tall figure ahead of her on the sidewalk leading to the Kurosaki family's door. He had to have been at least a full thirty centimeters taller than her, with messy brown hair that fell into his face, a slight tan, and a muscular frame highlighted by the tight, bright orange shirt he was wearing. Orihime recognized him instantly.
"Sado-kun!" she called, waving to him as she ran down the sidewalk to catch up with him. He must have taken a shortcut from school to get here so fast, she reckoned. It did make sense; he and Kurosaki-kun had been close since junior high, hadn't they? The tall Mexican turned to regard her as she ran up to him, panting.
"Were you looking for Kurosaki-kun, too?" Orihime asked, looking up at him from beneath her bangs, which had been securely tucked behind her ears. She hadn't dared remove her hairpins after putting them in first thing that morning.
"Mmm," the giant affirmed with a nod of his head. Orihime smiled softly to herself; Sado-kun was also worried about him, which meant she wasn't crazy. That might not have been a good thing, though; if Sado-kun was also worried, that might mean something really bad had happened.
"We can go ask together, then," she said, putting a smile firmly on her face as she looked up at him, "And I have to see Kurosaki-san about my bandages, anyway." The taller man nodded down at Orhime as they began moving towards the clinic in step.
It was only a few more steps to the gate, and within the minute, they were standing in the lobby of the small clinic, the bells on the glass door tinkling behind them. They only had to wait a few seconds before Ichigo's blonde sister, Yuzu, poked her head from around a corner.
"Daddy!" she called over her shoulder, "Orihime-chan and Sado-kun are here!" There was silence for a second before a set of heavy footsteps came barreling up behind Yuzu. Isshin stopped short, poking his head around the corner just above his daughter's.
"Yuzu, she came back!" he said in a stage whisper, no small amount of delight in his voice, "Daddy might have another daughter soon after all!" Of course, Orihime and Sado heard every word. For her part, Orihime became keenly aware of a warm blush spreading across her cheeks.
"A-Ahh, g-good afternoon, Kurosaki-san!" she pressed on, smiling awkwardly at the attention as he emerged from around the corner, "Sado-kun and I were just wondering if you'd seen Kurosaki-kun. He left school at lunch and we haven't seen him since..." Isshin scratched at the stubble on his chin as he looked up at the ceiling, a small look of confusion flickering across his face before being replaced again by a feigned look of disinterest.
"Oh, that," he said, waving his other hand dismissively, "I had him go over to his aunt's. She's sick and needs some help for a few days." Yuzu seemed genuinely confused.
"But Daddy, we don't ha--" She stopped short as her father's hand clamped over her mouth.
"Now, Yuzu, I know you worry about your brother's attendance record, but he hasn't missed a day of school this year, so I don't think he'll get in trouble with the teachers!" Orihime blinked. Isshin made it sound so natural, but she was sure there was something she was missing here.
"O-Oh," Orihime answered, not wanting to press the issue. If Isshin was confident Ichigo was okay, then surely he was. "W-Well, you did say to come back so you could check on my bandages, right?" Isshin's smile brightened again as he waved Orihime back towards the examining room.
"Of course! Right this way, and we'll see how it's doing." As Orihime was led towards the back of the clinic, Sado turned to go with a wave. "Ah, not so fast," Isshin called over his shoulder, "When I'm done with this, I need a word with you, Sado-kun. I have a favor I need to ask you." The tall teenager raised an eyebrow, but otherwise said nothing, nodding his assent and staying put.
Orihime, for her part, followed Isshin back towards the exam room she'd been placed in the previous night. Everything looked just as clean and neat as she'd remembered it; the cot was made, the instruments put away, the chairs rearranged.
"Hop up on the table there, and I'll take your bandages off," Isshin said, busying himself with pulling a pair of rubber gloves out of the cabinet above the sink. Orihime placed her hands on the exam table, pushing herself off the floor and seating herself on the crinkly paper covering. In short order, her black-haired doctor pulled a chair over in much the same manner his son had done the night before and began putting his gloves on.
"Does it hurt at all?" he asked, reaching up and unhooking the edge of the bandage. Orihime fought the urge to shake her head.
"No! It's really not hurt since I woke up this morning!" she replied enthusiastically. And it was true; the wound hadn't really hurt since she'd woke up that morning. Then again, she reasoned, it might be because she hadn't really been paying attention to it. As Isshin unwound her bandages, though, she noticed his eyebrows raise until they were almost touching his hairline.
When the last bandages were free, he turned around to grab a small hand mirror from the counter behind him. He handed it to Orihime with a lopsided grin.
"Take a look," he said, his chest puffing out a bit. Orihime did as she was told, holding the mirror up to her face and neck. What she saw surprised her; as she inspected the skin on her neck with her hands, her mouth formed a small 'o' of astonishment.
"It's gone!" she exclaimed, fingering the place where a scar should have been. Her mind whirled; how could such a grievous wound have vanished overnight? Shouldn't there be at least a scar? Her gray eyes flickered up to see Isshin preen. Could it be that he was some kind of miracle worker? "That's amazing!"
"Thank you, thank you!" he said proudly, brushing his fingernails against his shirt. Orihime brought the mirror to rest in her lap, gazing at the doctor with open admiration.
"Oh, umm... H-How much do I owe you?" she asked sheepishly, "I don't have anything with me right now, b-but my aunt can wire something..." Isshin blinked for a second before grinning broadly again, clapping a large hand on Orihime's shoulder.
"Think nothing of it, Orihime-chan!" he said happily, "We're practically family, right?" Orihime blinked, but gave the taller man a genuine smile as she looked up at him.
"T-Thank you, Kurosaki-san!" she replied, relief filtering through her voice. Ichigo's father was a bit strange, but really, he was a very nice person. "Well, I don't want to be a bother, so..." She hopped off the table, regaining her balance as she hit the floor. The older man watched her with raised eyebrows.
"A word of advice before you go, though," Isshin started, causing Orihime to stop in her motion towards the door, "Don't take those hairpins off in public again. And don't walk home from school by yourself. Alright?" His tone was so serious that it caused Orihime to stare at him quizzically for a moment as she blinked in confusion. Wasn't that what her brother Sora had always told her, too?
"O-Okay," she replied, the confusion diffusing through her voice, "I'll remember, sir." Isshin quickly adopted his familiar, goofy grin again, which Orihime found infinitely preferable to his serious side.
"Send Sado-kun in here for a second, alright?" he asked, smiling "I'll only be a second. Then he can walk you home."
Orihime nodded, smiling and giving the doctor a grateful 'thank you' before heading out into the lobby to send Sado back to see him.