Disclaimer: I donot own bleach.I repeat, I donot own it. TITE KUBO does.
Summery: Rukia kuchiki and her glamorous cousin, Riruka, look almost identical. The operative word being "almost." When Riruka lands her first movie role, and doesn't have time to visit her millionaire fiance Ichigo Kurosaki's family, she convinces Rukia to go and pretend to be her. But when Ichigo shows up unexpectedly, and obviously isn't fooled by this ruse, he begins to question his own relationship...and wonders if perhaps Riruka isn't the one he's been looking for.
CHAPTER 1
THE afternoon sun tried desperately to pierce the hazy smog that lay like a dirty halo over Los Angeles, the City of the Angels. There was nothing angelic about the traffic in the streets, racing about like lemmings on their self-destructive path to the sea. Rukia's cab driver weaved and honked his way through the three lanes of bumper-to-bumper vehicles while she braced herself for the collision that never came. An irate motorist shook his fist at the taxi that cut in front of him and Rukia sank a little deeper in her corner. She knew she could never drive as aggressively as the scowling man behind the wheel, although her cousin Riruka had no such compunction.
The thought of Riruka drew a weary sigh from Rukia
she was supposed to have been back at their apartment before noon. Her fiery cousin would be furious with her. It wouldn't make any difference, that she had been helping Aunt Rangiku, Riruka's mother, prepare for her women's organization annual charity ball. Nor would it matter that it had been her aunt who had volunteered her services as event manager without consulting Rukia. No, her aunt had presented it to her as an accomplished fact with a snide comment that someone should get some benefit from Rukia's bachelore's degree in meeting and event management.
Resentment flared briefly in Rukia. Her own parents had been killed in a car crash when she was only seven. Her mother had no living relatives, which left Reiji kuchiki, her father's brother, with Rukia. She dearly loved her uncle Rei who was so much like the slowly fading recollections of her father. It should have been an ideal solution for her to come to live with Reiji kuchiki, his wife Rangiku and their own daughter Riruka who was only nine months younger than Rukia. It might have been if Uncle Rei hadn't been so wrapped up in his career and Aunt Rangiku hadn't devoted every minute to her only a sensitive seven-year-old, Rukia had been quick to realize that their world revolved around Riruka. Memories of her aunt's parties where Riruka was paraded in front of the women who gathered came drifting back.
Half the time Aunt Rangiku had forgotten to mention Rukia except to refer to her in passing as their 'little orphan'. The remark hadn't meant to be unkind, but deprived as she was of the secure world of her parents' love, the constant reminder of her status had hurt. And Rukia had been glad to stay in the background while her vivacious, confident cousin occupied the spotlight.
Although she had gone to the same schools as Riruka, had an equally beautiful bedroom across the hall from her cousin's, and on the surface had been treated as a member of the family,Rukia had looked forward to her high school graduation. Against the wishes of both her aunt and uncle, she had used the last of her father's money to take a course in event management and thus have the means of earning her own living without being dependent on what had become the charity of her aunt and uncle. There had been a few months of sweet success with money she had earned herself in her pocket every week. Then, beautiful Riruka was out of school, intent on taking a trip to hawaii. Riruka was an adult. She wouldn't consider letting her parents accompany her and they wouldn't consider allowing her to go by herself. The compromise was that Rukia should go with her. Feebly Rukia had attempted to protest, knowing her position in the typing pool of the large firm could be filled by someone else at a moment's notice. But the look in her aunt's eyes had plainly said that Rukia owed it to them to give up her job—after all, they had raised her. Rukia had given in, the yoke of forced gratitude bowing her head.
After Hawaii, it had been something else, finally culminating in Riruka's demand to have an apartment of her own. It was a request that was fulfilled after Rukia had agreed to live there as well. Any display of rebellion by Rukia was always met by the same reproachful looks that reminded her of the everlasting gratitude she owed with an added "How lucky you are not to have to work for a living." A bitter smile flitted across her lips. She was a companion to her cousin, provided with room and board and a clothing allowance, at the mercy of Riruka's whims and the dictates of her aunt. She was twenty-one-without a life of her own or friends of her own.
"This is it, lady," the cab driver growled over his shoulder.
With a start Rukia realized the taxi had stopped in front of the luxurious high-rise building that housed her apartment. A quick glance at the meter sent her rummaging through her purse for her wallet. she handed him the money. sending a breathless 'thank you' over her shoulder, she crawledout of the back seat.
Inside the lushly carpeted lobby with its many urns of potted foliage, Rukia was greeted warmly by the essentric security guard. "Good afternoon, Miss Kuchiki."
"How are you today,Kisuke ?" she returned in equally friendly tones.
"Just fine"
"I'm running late today." A wry grimace revealed the twin dimples in hercheeks. "My cousin expected me back before noon and here it is nearly three."
"I believe your cousin is out." Noting the look of surprise on her face, headded, "She swept out of here about an hour after you did this morning and I'm almost certain she hasn't returned."
That meant absolutely nothing had been done since Rukia had left. Now that she had returned before her cousin everything would surely fall on her shoulders, so with a resigned shake of her head, she smiled her thanks to the security guard and hurried towards the lifts.
As Rukia walked out of the lift towards her apartment, she blamed the brief spate of self-pity on the tight, sore muscles in her neck and shoulders, her reward for sitting in front of a laptop for nearly six solid hours. Her future wasn't bleak. There was a bright spot not too far away. Riruka was engaged to be married and the tentative wedding date was only four months away.
Then she,Rukia , would be free to live her own life as she chose, but she knew the next few months would be hectic. The sight of dresses, evening gowns, and trouser suits tossed over every available piece of furniture greeted Rukia as she walked into the living room of the apartment. A resigned dullness clouded her eyes as she recognized her cousin's helter-skelter method of choosing clothes from her extensive wardrobe to be packed in the empty suitcases set to the side. There was typically no note telling Rukia where Riruka was going or when she would be back. Riruka Kuchiki was a law unto her own self, answerable to no one.
A moment's qualm shuddered through Rukia as she considered her cousin's engagement. It had all begun almost two months ago when Riruka had attended another one of those elegant Hollywood cocktail parties, secretly nursing her childhood wish to be "discovered" and become a famous movie star. Rukia never went. The artificial atmosphere of surface gaiety underlined by malicious backstabbing revolted her. It had been unusually early when Riruka returned from this particular party and Rukia had still been up. Her cousin had swept into the apartment, her calculating blue eyes glittering with suppressed excitement.
"I've just met the man I'm going to marry!" she had announced.
Rukia had been astounded, too familiar with her cousin's indifference to her most ardent admirers to take her seriously.
"Don't laugh, darling," Riruka had smiled wryly. "This man is one in a million and I intend to have him."
"I just can't believe you could fall in love with a man you only met tonight." Rukia had shrugged her shoulders in amusement.
"Oh, I haven't fallen in love with him, but he certainly has everything to ensure that I do," her cousin had replied, tossing her evening wrap on the back of the couch before she curled on its cushions looking like the cat that had stolen the cream.
"You aren't making any sense."
"Aren't I?" Riruka had replied smugly. "You wait!"
Her cousin had refused to discuss it any further, preferring the cloak of mystery to any childish confidences. The following morning had brought a delivery of a dozen red roses with a note requesting dinner that evening, but had, strangely enough, been ready the instant the doorbell rang, preventing Rukia from meeting her mysterious caller. Flowers arrived daily after that, and always long-stemmed red recognized the bold, decisive handwriting on the accompanying cards as the same as the first.
None were ever signed nor bore any outpourings of undying love. The messages were always crisp and concise, thanking Riruka for the previous evening or making arrangements for another.
It was almost two weeks to the day since Riruka had made her announcement before rukia had met the man her cousin's whole world had become centred around. Then it had been quite by accident.
Rukia had just washed her hair and had wrapped it in a towel. Cleansing cream was smeared over her face when the doorbell had rang. Grumbling that Riruka had probably misplaced her key, rukia had raced to the door, robed in a red caftan, a cast-off of Riruka's that looked too big for her even in its loosely fitting style.
Without any inquiries as to who might be on the other side of the door, she had flung it open to stare in open-mouthed surprise at the imposing figure framed by the door. The man was over six foot, dressed in an impeccably tailored grey suit that revealed his whipcord leanness while accenting the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips. His hair was most distinguishable orange locks was combed back from his tanned forehead. The arrogant slash of his jawline complemented the aristocratic line of his nose with strength etched in the powerful cheekbones and the bronzed hollow of his cheeks. The cruel set of his mouth drew her attention for a brief moment before her startled gaze raced to meet the hooded look of his hazel brown eyes.
"Who… who are you?" she had stumbled, unnerved to the point of wanting to shut the door in his face.
his brows lifted slightly to let the glimmer of arrogant amusement shine from his eyes. "Is Miss kuchiki in?" His low voice had the decidedly authoritative ring of a man used to commanding and having other people obey.
"Riruka?" she had asked stupidly before rushing in, "No, no, she isn't here right now. May I tell her who called?"
His eyes had flicked with merciless thoroughness over her dishevelled person. "You are her cousin," he had stated.
The slowly drying cleansing cream had hidden the sudden race of embarrassed pink in her could only swallow and nod that she was Riruka's cousin.
"Would you tell her that I called and offer my apologies for not being able to keep our engagement this evening." A slender, tanned hand reached inside the breast pocket of his jacket and removed a long narrow green velvet box which he handed to Rukia. His voice was tinged with cynical mockery as he explained, "A gift for Miss Riruka."
In that instant it dawned on Rukia that this had to be Riruka's mysterious suitor, at least mysterious to her because she had never met him. Her cousin had made many insinuations that the man was extraordinarily rich as well as strikingly handsome and charming. Now that she had met him, Rukia couldn't think of him as handsome. Striking, yes. Overpowering, definitely. Masculine, undoubtedly, but there was too much hardness and unrelenting strength in his features for him to be handsome, yet possessing a magnetism that couldn't be ignored. Still, he was not the type of man Rukia would ever want as a husband or lover, let alone a friend. And heaven help her if she should ever make an enemy of him, because Rukia knew with certainty that he would be a dangerous man to cross.
The expensive jewellery box in her hand seemed to catch fire, burning her fingers. Rukia wanted no part of him or anything that belonged to him. Hurriedly she tried to shove it back into his grasp.
"You'd better give it to her yourself, Mr.-Mr.—" Wildly Rukia realized that she still didn't know his name.
"Kurosaki," he supplied smoothly, with an imperious nod of his head,
"Ichigo Kurosaki." The name was vaguely familiar, but as flustered as Rukia was, she couldn't immediately place why. There was a twisted, cynical smile curling one corner of his mouth as he refused to take back the gift meant for her cousin. "I don't think it will matter very much to Riruka who actually hands her the present, you or I. I don't have time to argue the point with you. Please give her my message and," flicking a finger at the green velvet box clutched in Rukia's hand, "the gift."
Rukia had been left standing in the doorway watching him stride to the lift.
Two hours later, Riruka had returned, furious when Rukia told her of Ichigo Kurosaki's visit, but suitably mollified when she saw the jewellery box. Rukia had tried to explain that she thought Riruka would have preferred to give it to her himself, but her cousin was already exclaimingover the diamond and ruby-studded bracelet inside the green case.
"What difference does it make who gives it to me?" she had said, laying the bracelet across her wrist and holding it up to the light in silent appraisal, "as long as it came from him."
That was almost an exact echo of his sentiments. In her own case, Rukia knew she would have wanted to receive the gift directly from the giver, especially something as expensive as that bracelet, which considering the cost, she would probably have refused.
"Well, what did you think of Ichigo?" Riruka was studying Rukia's thoughtful expression.
Her impression was not what Riruka would want to hear, so Rukia chose a middle ground. "He was a bit older than I expected."
"Twenty-nine isn't old," her cousin had replied scornfully. The dark eyes had returned to the bracelet. "Besides, he's not only rich and powerful, he's also very well known. There isn't a woman born who wouldn't want to marry him."
Rukia knew one—herself. The man she would marry would be gentle and tender, not someone who would dominate anyone in his presence and bend them to his will.
"Who is he?" She still hadn't been able to place where she had heard his name before.
Riruka had laughed, a throaty, sexy laugh she had practised until it no longer contained any amusement although it was pleasing to the ear. "Rukia, you're so incredibly ignorant! Ichigo Kurosaki owns the Zangetsu hotel chain, among many other things."
The article in the newspaper had come flooding back to her, touting the news that Ichigo Kurosaki was in town after opening one of his hotels in Mexico and in the process of negotiating the construction of another in some resort area in South America. Rukia also remembered that he was known for his ruthless manipulation of people, as well as the ongoing string of beauties photographed at his side.
When Rukia had realized it was Ichigo Kurosaki her cousin was trying to steer to the altar, she hadn't given her cousin two pins for her chances. During the weeks succeeding Rukia's meeting with him, there had been more presents, each more expensive than the previous, more dates with Riruka, one more casual meeting with Rukia where Ichigo Kurosaki practically ignored her existence, and finally the stunning news almost a week ago that
Riruka was engaged to the Ichigo Kurosaki.
Her cousin could take care of herself, but Rukia still thought she was making a grievous mistake. The very day after her engagement Riruka had been in a temper that not even the sapphire flanked by diamonds in her engagement ring could assuage, because Ichigo Kurosaki refused any publicity regarding their engagement. And more than anything else, Riruka wanted to be in the spotlight. Rukia had known that he wasn't the type of man to be swayed by stormy scenes or a woman's tears. Riruka had been forced to comply with his wishes.
The only other tantrum that her cousin had thrown had been when Ichigo was not present. The day before yesterday he had decreed that Riruka was to visit his aunt in Mobile, Alabama while he flew to South America on business. Rukia had a sneaking suspicion that Ichigo Kurosaki knew that without his presence Riruka would flaunt her engagement to the press and public. In front of him, Riruka had meekly agreed to the trip, only to storm in angrily at the injustice of it after he had gone and Rukia had entered the room.
Ichigo had left for South America yesterday. Riruka had her airline ticket for Mobile verifying her reservation for tomorrow afternoon. Rukia stared at the haphazard array of clothes to be sorted and packed for her cousin's journey. She sighed at the wrinkled piles, knowing most of them would need pressing, and Riruka's ineptitude with an iron was notorious; she scorched nearly everything she touched.
Carefully Rukia began folding the scattered pieces of lingerie and stacking them into a neat pile in preparation of packing one of the smaller scarlet cases. She knew her selection of dresses, trouser suits, and gowns would not be her cousin's. There was no choice but to leave them until Riruka returned.
The front door to the apartment swung open and Riruka glided into the front room, her dark blue eyes dancing with barely suppressed excitement and her crimson lips spreading into a wide, joyous smile. Rukia always felt so colourless when her cousin entered a room, so vibrantly alive and stunningly sensuous. The room could be crowded, yet all eyes would be turned towards Riruka, like moths dancing worshipfully about a flame.
"I have the most glorious news!" Riruka bubbled, spinning and pivoting about the room like a captivating gypsy, beautiful dark magenta hair floating around her neck while her flared skirt whirled to allow a glimpse of shapely thighs.
"It's fantastic! Absolutely magnificent!"
"What is it?" Rukia asked, fascinated by this sirenlike creature who was her cousin.
After being in constant motion since entering the room, Riruka stopped,enjoying the suspense that was building around her before she announced,"I'm going to be in a movie!"
Rukia's mouth opened and closed several times as her curious violet eyes stared unbelievingly at the smug expression. "What are you talking about? What movie? How?" she breathed at last.
"Kugo Ginjo, the producer, cast me today." Her eyes gleamed with
diamond brilliance. "I met him at a party last week with Ichigo and he called me today to test for a part in his new picture. And I got it!" For one fleeting moment, all sophistication was cast aside as Riruka hugged herself with childish glee. "I have almost twenty pages of dialogue. I always dreamed about this."
"When does it happen?" Rukia was so stunned by the news she couldn't think straight. "Where will you film? When do you start?"
"I have fittings for my costumes tomorrow." A graceful hand caressed the smooth column of her throat as her cousin became again the self-assured young woman. "I'll be a princess in Czarist Russia. They're going on location somewhere in Europe, but all of my scenes will be shot at the studio. Worse luck!" she finished with a dismissive grimace.
Rukia looked down at the dress in her hand, the congratulatory expression receding from her face. She glanced apprehensively at her cousin.
"You're supposed to leave tomorrow to visit Ichigo's aunt in Mobile."
The back of Riruka's dark head was turned towards her. "I know," her cousin murmured, her enthusiasm dying as quickly as a flame being extinguished. She spun around quickly, her blue eyes dark and imploring.
"Rukia, what am I going to do? It's what I've wanted since I was a child. The chance of a lifetime! the director said I was a natural for the part."
Silently Rukia agreed, seeing the regal fire of a princess in her tempestuous cousin. "Call Ichigo and explain what happened. Persuade him to postpone your visit to his aunt's." It was beyond Rukia's power to resist this sudden desire of Riruka's for her help.
There was a petulant droop to her cousin's mouth. "I don't know where he's staying. Even if I did …" She left the thought-unfinished as she gazed earnestly at Rukia, seeming to beg for her understanding. "You see, Ichigo …"
Riruka's sudden loss for words touched Rukia's heart more than any eloquence could have done. "I don't think… he would approve. You know how autocratic he is at times. I… I'm sure he wouldn't like it if I appeared in a film. But,Rukia, I want it so much." Diamond tears hovered on the edge of her lashes. "If… if only there was some way I could do it as one last fling before I… I get married, fulfilling one little dream I've always had."
"Surely there is some way," Rukia murmured, confusion deepening her brilliant blue eyes.
"Kugo… Mr. Ginjo said they would probably shoot my scenes right away since they're filming that sequence first. He doubted whether it would last longer than three weeks at the outside," Riruka mused aloud, sinking forlornly on the sofa. A tight laugh tinkled out with bitter notes. "Not much longer than my visit to Ichigo's aunt."
"Perhaps you could call her and explain the circumstances," Rukia suggested practically, missing the speculative gleam bestowed on her by her cousin.
"And have her tell Ichigo? Then he really would be angry with me," Riruka sighed, looking suddenly like a shadow of her former self. "I couldn't feign illness and plead a cold or the flu. Ichigo might find out and come flying back to see that I was cared for adequately."
A measure of her cousin's sadness transferred itself to Rukia. "It seems the only solution is to turn down the part and carry out your original intention of visiting Ichigo's aunt," she concluded sombrely
"The only problem with that is I've already signed a contract to appear inthe film." The rustle of the chiffon dress lying beside Riruka's sounded like electricity crackling in the sudden silence of the room. "If I don't fulfil the terms, the studio can sue me and Daddy."
"Oh, Riruka, no!"Rukia gasped. "Why did you do it? Why did you sign it without at least thinking over what you were doing? You've placed yourself and your family in a terrible position!"
"You have to understand," Riruka pleaded, leaning forward to gaze with tear-clouded eyes into Rukia's expression of displeasure. "It happened in an impulsive moment when I was still pinching myself that I'd actually been offered the part. Before I knew what I was doing, I saw my signature on the contract. Now do you understand my dilemma? I don't want to risk my engagement to Ichigo, nor do I want to hurt my parents."
As if the whole thing was more than Riruka could bear, she burst into tears, amazingly looking more beautiful and feminine than before. Tears had no more than dampened her cheeks than they stopped, a look of determination spreading over her cousin's face.
"I mustn't feel sorry for myself," Riruka declared firmly. "I know I got myself into this mess and it's not fair to ask you to help me out of it. But surely the two of us can think of some solution."
Rukis smiled tentatively in sympathy with her cousin while her shoulders and head moved indicating the blankness of her mind to find a way out of the intolerable situation.
Riruka rose to her feet and walked to the large picture window that dominated the apartment's living room.
"What I need to do is split myself in half," Riruka tossed the words halfhumorously over her shoulder. "One half could go to Mobile and the other half could do the picture."
"An ideal solution if you could do it," Rukia laughed lightly, needing the levity to break the heavy tension in the air.
Her cousin turned around, staring at her raven-haired relative while a light radiated with increasing brilliance from Riruka's face. "I think I know how we can do it," she breathed. "I know we can!"
"What is it?" Rukia demanded as Riruka raced from the window to clasp her hands, transmitting the excitement from Riruka to her.
"You take my place." Mischief danced brightly out of blue eyes at the aghast expression emanating from the bluish-violet ones. "I know it sounds
outrageous and impossible, but it could work! I just know it will work!"
"You mean, I should go to Mobile," Rukia swallowed, feeling herself
drawn into a whirlpool of her cousin's enthusiasm, "instead of you?"
"It's so simple!" Riruka exclaimed. "Why didn't we think of it before? His aunt has no idea what I look like, except that I'm a brunette and so are you.
Ichigo told me himself that he hardly ever sees her, so the chance of running into her after we're married will be very slim. She won't be coming to the wedding, which is why I'm visiting her now."
"But Ichigo will find out about the film," Rukia protested half-heartedly.
"I can convince him that I did it before we were engaged. You know how long it takes to make a film, edit it, and get it out to the theatres. By the time he finds out about it, it will all be in the past. Over and done with," Riruka declared. "Please,Rukia, you must do it—if not for me, then for Daddy."
Rukia could feel herself giving in, surrendering to the habit of sacrificing her desires to show her gratitude for the people who had brought her up. But the prospect of masquerading as Riruka frightened her into raising another objection, however weak it might seem.
"I could never remember to answer if his aunt addressed me as Riruka. I would constantly be looking around for you."
"There isn't that much difference between Rukia and Riruka,"her cousin answered sharply before tempering her irritation. "Tell her Rukia is your nickname. She'll believe you."
"I don't like it. what will you do about the hair? Yours is magenta , while mine is black"
" we will dye it to magenta. Other than this Do you have a better suggestion?"
Rukia was forced to admit that she didn't. Except for the deception involved, she could find nothing wrong with the mechanics of Riruka's plan.
Rukia never actually said she would do it, but the agreement was in her silence. And Riruka was quick to put the plan into action, keeping up a steady stream of chatter about the clothes Rukia would have to pack, trying to convince her what an adventure she would have. The chilling thought kept returning to Rukia that there would be hell to pay if Ichigo Kurosaki ever found out about this masquerade.
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