Hiya! :D
Okay, so this is a new one.
I've had this in my folders for a long time and I just thought
well, what the hell. I'll just post this as well. :X
This will be a different POV per chapter without being redundant. :P
And you guessed it. Inoue and Rukia.
This is the first time I'm doing an Inoue POV fic
it's a whole new experience. :)
Enjoy. :)
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite (you dork!) owns Bleach (tm) I'm only using his
characters for entertainment purposes and I am making no money
from this at all. :D
†.One.†
-Inoue-
"I was with him when he bought that." Her airy voice floats insipid within the confines of the room. Tucking a loose strand of copper hair self-consciously behind her left ear she offers a tentative smile. Her pair of overlarge grey eyes blinking rapidly trying to adjust to the lack of actual illumination. Even after twenty minutes she was still trying to squint out vague details.
The metallic 'click' makes her flinch as she watched the woman languidly seated on the beautifully carved antique chair across her flick open a pretty silver lighter and lit the tip of a black cigarette. The woman's voice was soft and low like an almost whisper, only a little bit throaty as she answered, "He told me."
"Ah..." her smile falters for a bit as the sound she uttered faded into silence and they are staring at each other again.
The woman watches her more carefully and she fidgets under the steady gaze. The pair of half-lidded indigo eyes telling her to state her business even though she already must know why she had come. The woman waits, running her fingers through cropped black hair prettily mussed with a single strand falling across a pert nose. She inhales deeply from the cigarette held lazily between two slim fingers. Still watching, still waiting for her to speak. She exhales softly into the air.
She watched her in turn, trying to make out a distinctness where a point of attraction could have begun. But she could already feel the faintest of stirrings starting somewhere in her gut. It made her fidget, not so used to the sudden fluttering of her insides as she stared at a woman no less. And such a tiny thing this woman. All slender little limbs, milky skin almost transparent in the dimness. There was almost something unreal about her beauty like she was actually made of brittle porcelain instead of skin and bones, blood, sweat and tears.
And tears.
It was obvious where the stains were. The stark pathway down her pale cheeks tinted black, her eyeliner smudged on the edges. The look they gave was haunted, deprived, grieved and tired.
Yet so irresistible.
This woman is beautiful in a quiet way, she decided. And strong but maybe it was just her own weakness cowering under the direct stare unwilling to let up. A stare so dark it made her breath catch painfully in her throat.
This woman's presence had suddenly become overbearing.
Her nerve faltered and she tightened her grip on the straps of her handbag as she pressed her lips together. She was confused again and she felt the way she had when her Father-in-law had called that early evening a week earlier. She was standing by the dining table setting the plates: their best china. A gift on their wedding they never had any occasion to use until she decided to bring them out that day.
The day of their first anniversary.
The day of her husband's accident.
And now she was sitting before his mistress. This lovely sight framed by a play of light and shadows with a backdrop of a skillfully painted folding screen depicting a flying heron heading off onto the sunset.
She smiles now, her cigarette still held aloft. "Do you really want to be here right now?" Slow bat of long eyelashes, perfunctory smoke drifting from slightly parted rouged lips. "Do you really want to know?" Abrasive; fine choice of words. Her smile widens revealing a hint of pearly white teeth. Patiently she stares, waiting.
She drew in a deep breath, swallowed down the knot on her throat and decided that she wasn't confused anymore and she did want to know. She wanted to know everything starting with this woman's name.
"You never mentioned your name..." With a show of confidence she did not have, she looked her in the eye. She watched her closely but there was no change in her closed expression. She took a steadying breath before deciding to ask again. "Your real name."
The woman smiles a bit at that. She smiles like there was a secret she wasn't part of and will never be.
"It's Rukia...just Rukia."
"Ah...I'm...Inoue...Inoue Orihime." She replies in a hushed tone, feeling a little lost as she groped for the right word. The right name.
"Is this the first you've heard of me?" Rukia taps her cigarette and lets the ash fall on the silver ashtray balanced over the edge of the arm rest of the chair.
"N-no...I uh...I've known for...for a while...now..." Inoue lets her voice falter as she gripped her handbag even tighter.
"I see..." Rukia says without a hint of mockery, her expression unflinching and stony. "And do you know how long it's been going on?"
"I..." Inoue looks away, biting her lip. Rukia narrows her eyes, looking at this woman more closely.
"Look...you don't really have to do this you know...why don't we just leave it at that." She gives Inoue a small smile as she held up a hand and a door opens to reveal a butler formally dressed in a dark blue kimono bowing to her and holding the door open with one hand.
"No!" She didn't mean to shout but her voice rose on its own and she clamped a hand over it in shock. Rukia raised an eyebrow but said nothing then after a while she sent the butler away.
"I don't feel like talking...and this isn't a great time for me. But if you're that determined to hear it then you leave me no choice but to tell you everything." Rukia did not smile this time and her eyes had grown darker and colder.
Inoue watched her light another cigarette not saying anything but wishing she had something to do with her hands at least. After a moment she gave a nod, swallowing hard as she met Rukia's hooded gaze.
"Well, if you're staying would you like some tea or...something stronger?" Rukia got to her feet with a graceful, fluid motion and headed for the liquor cabinet. She turned her head once, waiting for her answer.
"I...I'll have a glass of whiskey..." Inoue replied weakly as she stared at her lap with burning cheeks. This was starting to feel like a huge mistake, one she will not get over very soon. Not to mention very embarrassing to come here so shamelessly...shameless. But it wasn't her who was shameless. She have every right to know the truth. She was by virtue and all that is entitled to it his wife. It must've meant something at one point.
She watched Rukia preparing their drinks and tears started to burn in her eyes. Maybe she wasn't prepared to know after all. Maybe she was better off not knowing why even after a year of marriage her husband never once touched her hand or even looked at her with more than a passing glance.
Thanks for reading! :)
How did you find it? Reviews, comments, suggestions, reactions, admissions, inconsolable misery to how the story is? Please feel free to hit that button! You know which. :X
I know it's short and that's just how I write. I don't do prolonged descriptions but I am trying to remedy the less than seven page per chapter. Patience. :D
Well, until next time!
If you guys want there to be...very uncertain about this as always.
Much Love. :D