This an AU that's been swimming in my head for over a year, and this first chapter took me a long time to get from my head and written. I have quite a story planned, so I hope that everyone can enjoy the trip. Also, the rating on this may or may not go up. There will be some slightly sexual content and mentions of sex.
Slight warning: Shuuhei/Rangiku is the main pairing in this story, but there will be little bits of Ichigo/Orihime (mostly just Orihime for reasons that will be obvious in this first chapter), Renji/Rukia, and maybe a little Kira/Momo. Most of these play a part in the setting of the story and not much else, but I did want to let this be known since not everyone likes those pairs. I hope even those that don't care for those pairings don't let them stop reading this story, because they're truly a minor part.
Thanks to copperheadfightingninja for doing a little beta on this.
4/3 UPDATE: added a few short paragraphs at the end, that I'd planned for the start of the second chapter. I felt that they worked best here, because it made the flow choppy in the next chapter. It kinda kills a lot of the suspense, but there's still a few mysteries left.
Bleach is property of Kubo Tite and Shueisha.
***
Always One Foot on the Ground
chapter 1
The tie was going to be the end of him. Shuuhei walked out the meeting, yanking that the noose that he'd kept around his neck the whole morning to loosen it. The next thing he really needed to get off was the suit jacket, but that was going to have to wait until he got back to his office. He quickly walked back through a corridor of cubicles, amongst the sounds of phones ringing and keyboards clacking. Passing a few employees, they greeting him with an artificial cheer, careful not to let him see any signs of stress. That only made it more apparent, but it's not like the environment of monthly magazine with high circulation numbers exactly provided any downtime. He'd be more concerned if there wasn't a saccharine facade of cheer when his employees greeted him.
It's not like he felt any less stress than they did. Through some odd bout of luck, he was promoted to editor in chief, a position that was normally reserved for men nearly twice his age with bald heads and potbellies. Here he was, just 28, full head of hair, and definitely no potbelly. In all honesty, it wasn't just luck, but he didn't want to think of that right now. Having such an important position at such a young age was enough to keep him busy trying to prove that there really was some merit to the promotion.
His office was in the corner. His secretary, a young woman named Momo Hinamori, was out front, intently listening to whoever was on the other side of the line. With a slightly forced smile, he waved at his secretary and walked into his office, making sure the door was closed behind him. He stopped in the entry, peeled off his suit jacket and tossed it on the nearby sofa without a glance. It wasn't until he got to his desk that he noticed that his couch wasn't empty like it usually was. It was the glimpse of his friend's bright red ponytail out of the corner of his eye that made him realize he wasn't alone.
"Throwing your coat at a guest isn't going to make him leave," a familiar voice said, tossing Shuuhei's blazer to the empty side of the couch.
"Sorry about that, Renji. I didn't really see you there," he replied as a sunk down into his amazingly comfortable office chair. Heaving a sigh, he knew that he didn't really have the time to sit back and talk with his friend, but the distraction was certainly welcome. "So, what brings you here?"
"You mean besides the fact that no one outside this office has seen you for two weeks?"
"There's another reason why you're here. A short, violet-eyed, black-haired, occasionally aggressive reason." By looking at the expression on Renji's face, he could tell that he'd hit the mark. "What gives, why are you in my office instead of hers?"
"She kicked me out of her office," Renji mumbled back.
"It is the time of the month when she gets busy, so that doesn't surprise me. Plus, she does love to push your buttons," he playfully added. His friend shot back at him with an unappreciative glare.
"Anyway," Renji said in a drawn out matter, clearly trying to change the subject. "I did honestly have a reason to come here and see you, and that is to remind you about this Saturday."
"Last time I checked, I'm busy, not forgetful. I'm also not a jerk. Just because I don't care to go to weddings, doesn't mean that I won't go at all. Ichigo is a contributing writer, and I do know him outside of work as well since you two are pretty good friends. Of course I'm going to make sure I show up. Plus, to be honest, it's really something that I'm going to have to see to believe."
"Is there anyone you're going to bring with you?" Renji asked after chuckling at his friend's last statement. The response he got was a simple head shake. "No Yuura?"
"I broke it off with Yuura about a week ago," Shuuhei casually replied.
Renji had to keep himself from looking too disappointed. There had been high hopes amongst their friends that maybe this one would stick around for more than a few weeks. Then again, they've been having that same kind of hope for the past few girls. "Before you start in on me, it just wasn't there with her."
"I know, I know. It's never there with any girl, is it? You're still not over–"
"Renji," Shuuhei snapped just before the other man could even mutter that name. "Let's not talk about this here," he replied with forced smile.
"Okay," Renji replied taking special note of look distress hiding behind the smile on his dark-haired friend's face. "I should get going anyway. You've got all your work to do, and I should probably go, get lunch, and head back to my job before Kuchiki-shachou notices how long I've been gone. I guess I'll see you this weekend."
Walking out of the office, Renji couldn't help but let out a long sigh. Even after just over a year, talk about her was still off limits.
"So did you remind him?" a familiar voice asked, startling him out of his thoughts. He looked over to Momo's desk to see the very woman who'd so violently shooed him away from her minutes ago was waiting for him now.
"I thought you were busy, Rukia," he grumbled. She didn't bother even attempting to answer and instead stared at him, waiting for an answer. Not wanting to talk about this right outside of Shuuhei's office, he took Rukia by the arm, ignoring her protests, and lead to the nearest open and vacant area, a nearby empty cubicle.
"You didn't need to pull me so hard," Rukia angrily replied, yanking her arm back.
"I didn't want to talk about this right outside his office, and you were the one looking like you wanted an answer right away. Yes, I reminded him. He's coming, and he's going to be alone."
"I told you it wasn't going to last with, what's her face," Rukia boasted.
"Yuura. He's definitely still not over her at all. But is it really going to be okay for him to be there alone when she's going to be there? I don't think seeing her going will bring him closure."
"It probably wouldn't have made a difference. You've seen yourself how hung up on her he still is. Having his third rebound girlfriend around probably wasn't going to make a difference. It may even be better this way."
"I hope so," Renji softly replied, a concerned look upon his face. Rukia stifled a giggle when she saw Renji's expression. Despite his usually rough exterior, she'd always known that he was a very caring man, especially when it came to his friends. However, sometimes even she couldn't help but giggle when he was like that. He, of course, wasn't too thrilled when she reacted that way. "Hey, don't laugh at me because I'm worried about my friend. There's a lot of other women who'd think that was a good trait."
"It is a good trait. You just look funny when you say stuff like that. Especially with those eyebrows," she replied trying to hold back her giggles towards the end of her sentence. He didn't say anything in response, just pouted. "I swear, sometimes you're more sensitive than Ichigo. Come on, let's go get some lunch." Grumbling just a little, Renji acquiesced, trying to hide his excitement that he'd be spending his lunch with her instead of sitting behind his desk, eating take out.
The week had quickly passed just as it usually did, and Shuuhei found himself in his most formal suit, standing in the middle of a garden in a nearby suburb, waiting to be seated while string quartet softly filled the air along with the soft aroma of the blooming flowers. He didn't know Orihime well, but he had a hard time thinking that this setting was indeed her idea. A garden wedding with a string quartet didn't seem like something that a modest girl like Orihime would hope for. He sighed, happy that at least he could enjoy the beautiful day now. Being in this garden on such a beautiful day was much better than either cooped up in his apartment or as one of the millions of pedestrians on the streets of Tokyo as he ran errands that had been piling up during the week.
When he was eventually seated, much to his chagrin, the usher had placed him next to the aisle. He just wanted a seat in the back, somewhere in the middle of the row. That way he was there, but he could just be another person in the audience. Instead, he was placed in the thick of it, checking his watch, waiting for some people to start walking down that damn aisle. He looked up to see Momo and Kira looking back at him from two rows in front of him; Momo was smiling and waving. He managed a quick smirk. Seeing the two together was an event in its self since he'd picked up on Kira's crush years ago. His thoughts, however, were quickly interrupted by the shift in music that signified the processional commencing.
The first person to walk to the alter was the orange-haired man himself, alone. He walked to his mark and turned to watch the rest of the procession follow. Shuuhei turned to see the first members of the wedding party walk through the arch, the couple's school friends Chad and Tatsuki, if he was remembering correctly. After them came Rukia and Renji. As they took their places Shuuhei turned back again to see a very familiar figure walk out of the archway, arm and arm with a very happy young man with somewhat scruffy chin-length brown hair, not that he paid much attention to the guy next to her.
Rangiku, he thought trying his hardest to not look so shocked.
The sight of her made his heart race to the point where he could practically hear the thumping in his head. His mouth dried and his palms became moist with sweat. It was like seeing a ghost.
As she passed him, those beautiful light blue eyes of hers focused directly on him, and she offered a soft smile. He tried desperately to look like everything was normal and okay, but he knew that he was likely failing at that.
From then on, he had a hard time keeping his eyes off of her. Even as Orihime was escorted down the aisle to hushed whispers of how unbelievably beautiful she looked, he couldn't help but steal glances at the voluptuous form of the blond woman he'd fallen in love with just over a year ago. She was captivating. Her long, wavy blonde hair was loosely tied up and adorned with a few daisies, just like the other girls. Even though the petal pink dress suited Orihime's more modest taste, her amazing figure was still very apparent as the fabric still hugged her perfect curves.
He had to laugh at himself a little for getting so wrapped up in just looking at her. After consistently defending to his friends that he wasn't just interested in her assets, he found himself most interested in just simply looking at her standing so close by.
He hadn't seen her in a year. At least, he hadn't seen her in person. Since parting ways, Rangiku had gone on pursue that acting career she dreamed of as a girl. She'd, however, recently gotten her start in modeling, gravure modeling to be more precise. In recent months, she'd become quite successful, to the point of making it hard for him to escape her image. When he walked along a news stand, looking to see his magazine and how well it was selling, he'd often come across her dressed in anything from a skimpy designer outfit to a bikini on a cover of a magazine.
Then there was a cover shot of her wearing a white fur coat that was worn open to reveal the black bikini and fishnet thigh-highs underneath, which became practically iconic in the last two months. Slowly but surely, she was becoming a household name, famous for launching a million masturbatory fantasies of pubescent boys, grown men, and maybe even a few women. She started to turn up on the TV a little while later. At first, she'd just appear in a few segments in a prime time talk show, but her screen time had recently been increasing due to her outgoing personality. Sometimes he wondered if his inability to get over her was because he saw her on at least a weekly, if not daily, basis in some form of media.
No, he corrected himself. It was never just that.
He knew he shouldn't think like that for much longer. Taking a deep breath, he stole his attention away from the blond to focus on the couple getting married. For once, he was trying with all his might to truly pay attention to the ceremony. It was a much needed distraction. Though trying to distract himself from thoughts about their past with the scene of a happy couple getting married was probably not the best way to get his mind off the idea of romance and relationships. He could feel of soft jab in his chest as the two stumbled through their self-written vows. Ichigo was almost in tears, something Shuuhei would never have imagined to see from the usually fierce-looking young man.
The newly married couple sealed their vows with a kiss, and he tried his best not to think about kissing her again. That would be his one way ticket back to the completely depressed state he was in when she first left. It was the last thing he wanted her to see. Steeling his nerves as best he could, he watched as the newlyweds eagerly walked back down the aisle and past the guests. They were, of course, followed by the rest of the wedding party, and awkwardly, he kept his glance on anything but Rangiku as she passed him once again. As the rest of the party passed, and the first rows of people were funneling back, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He really wasn't ready for any of this.
Trouble again arose for Shuuhei as the wedding party was in the large meeting space behind the seated guests, waiting for people to come funneling through with their congratulations. He wondered if there was a way out or at least to the front of the line. Missing the time to congratulate the two felt rude, but he didn't want to be forced into facing Rangiku, even for those few short moments. Waiting for the rows in front of him to be dismissed, he saw his opportunity come when Kira and Momo were walking past him, exchanging a few words. Hopefully, by the time he was dismissed, they would have passed Rangiku.
He nervously waited for his chance to leave and slowly crept forwards in line, holding his breath as he got closer to Rangiku. At least, he wasn't sure if he was breathing. Thankfully, Momo and Kira were just finishing saying a few words to her, and by the time he caught up with them they were just about to talk to the newly married couple. Shuuhei could have sworn he saw Momo looking back at Rangiku with a shake of her head as he walked up to her, but he was too focused on avoiding eye contact with the blonde that he only saw it out of the corner of his eyes. Instead he focused on congratulating the couple in front of him, tell him how happy he was for them, let them know that he did actually make it, and just smile, smile, smile. Everything was okay. He was okay. That was, at least, the message he wanted to portray, but he knew he was never a very good actor.
Shuuhei had congratulated himself for making it through the ceremony after seeing that Rangiku was in the wedding as he chatted with coworkers also in attendance. It didn't completely occur to him until he saw people filing into a nearby tent that he had a whole reception to sit through. As funny as the prospect of seeing Ichigo or, heaven forbid, Renji dancing was promising, he wasn't exactly sure if he could make it through the whole night avoiding her. He hoped that there would be alcohol at this thing. He'd even settle for a cash-only bar.
He hadn't really noticed that the wedding was really quite small until they'd all gotten under the tent and sat at their assigned table. He was with all the co-workers, happily on the very edge of the arrangement. Maybe if he just sat here all night, he'd avoid her. She was, more often than not, the life of the party and not someone to bother herself too much with the wallflowers. Though if there was a bar that he was going to frequent, and he thought he saw one, then it would more than likely be inevitable to run into her.
The start of the reception had gone well for him. They all sat down, waiting for the wedding party to enter, which they soon did, to great fanfare. As everyone at the head table settled in, it was time for the speeches. Ichigo's father, in particular gave a rather emotional yet quite odd speech, garnering many an uncomfortable laugh. He also looked as if he was going to give Ichigo a stroke by the way he was talking about his new daughter. Pretty much everything that followed paled in comparison to the scene that the elder Kurosaki had made. That was, of course, until Rangiku stood up for her speech, but Shuuhei was pretty certain that he had a definite bias concerning that.
It had been a long time since he'd last heard her voice in person. No matter how good his TV stereo was, her talk show appearances never quite made up for the real thing. The warmth he remembered that had been missing when seeing her in broadcast form was there. Her melodious chuckle was immeasurably better in person than it was through a speaker. That was not to mention the content of her speech its self, where she was accounting her past as surrogate older sister for Orihime and had nudged the young girl into making the first step with the prickly young man. She went on to say how rewarding this day was to her to see the young girl so happy. Hearing that was what reminded him of the woman he'd fallen so hard for, not just the physical package, or the brazen confidence, but the one that so deeply cared for Orihime and looked out for the younger girl as if they really were bonded by blood. As that thought crossed his mind, he tried his best to put it back in the recesses where it belonged.
The speeches were over, and now all he had left to sit through was the food and a few dances, which would be when he would get a few drinks. Then it would be time to make the long train ride home, alone. He could make an excuse and leave early, couldn't he?
As the night wore on, he'd been too busy watching the group of people out dancing the night away and counting down the time until he could make a respectful departure to notice that there was someone missing from that crowd.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you've been trying to avoid me," Rangiku said after sitting down next to him, a glass of wine in hand. He stumbled a bit, trying to make it seem as if her weren't surprised by her sneak attack.
"Maybe, but only a little," he said in an attempt to be lighthearted, adding a soft laugh to emphasize that point. "I wasn't really expecting to see you here, so I'm still a little unsure of what to do."
"I'm sorry about that. I told Rukia, Renji, and Ichigo not to tell you if they saw you. I didn't want my being here to be the reason that you'd decide not to come."
"I should have figured it out. I know how close you are to Orihime, so it really should have been obvious. But either way, I still would have come, Rangiku," he replied looking her straight in the eye.
The complete sincerity in his stare had taken her by surprise. It probably shouldn't have. She'd always found his earnest nature to be incredibly endearing, and it was one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place. In her experience with men, they always seemed to have some kind of agenda when it came to her. They always wanted something different from what they said they wanted. Still, she was surprised that part of him still remained. With everything that she'd done to him, a part of her had wondered if she broken that part of him. That fact that it seemed she hadn't didn't helped matters as much as she'd thought it would.
"Well then, I guess I should have let them tell you."
"Or you could have told me yourself," he quickly cut in.
"Shuuhei, please, don't do this here," she replied in an uncharacteristically sheepish manner. "Just let me enjoy this day without having to talk about this. Please?" she asked with a pleading look.
"Yeah, sure," he quietly agreed.
There was an unusual awkward silence between them now. Other than confronting her about her prolonged distance from him, there wasn't much Shuuhei could even think to say. He figured that she must have felt somewhat the same as well.
"So, I heard they made you editor in chief," she said after taking a sip from her glass of wine, eager to break the lingering silence.
"They did. It was something about wanting someone young and fresh, instead of someone with more experience leading people and managing a publication. I still sit in that office and wonder how the hell I got there sometimes." There he went again with his unnecessary honesty.
"I know you love it. You've always had such a passion for that magazine, and I bet you sit in that office sometimes and grin like a madman."
"I do love it," he stated plainly. "I just never thought I'd get where I wanted so soon in life, at least with my career." She flashed him a sweet smile after his admission, but she could feel that it was getting a little too serious. Today was a day to have fun, not have serious life discussion with an ex-lover. She took her last sip of wine, finishing the glass, and glanced over his shoulder to the dance floor.
"Wanna dance?"
"Huh?"
"I asked you if you wanted to dance. It's a pretty simple question," she replied with a chuckle.
"I, um." It was a strange question for her to ask. He was trying to avoid any kind of action that would remind him of the good old days. Dancing with her would mean being close to her, and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to do that. It was for his own sake, really. If people already thought he was still attached before today, this little temptation wasn't going to do him much good.
To hell with them. To hell with the potential for this to make him more attached. Her hooks had been in him for a long time, and one little dance wasn't going to make a difference. "Sure."
In an instant, she had him by the wrist and lead him to the dance floor. Once they'd suitably gotten into the crowd, she turned back to him with the smile.
But luck just wouldn't shine down on Shuuhei, not today. Within seconds of their reaching the dance floor, the fast paced song that had been playing wound down, and a ballad started up in its place. He sighed as the confidence he'd built up to just say the hell with it had crumbled. He was certainly caught at an impasse. He didn't want to go running from the dance floor, but a slow dance was definitely not what he wanted either. A quick dance where they didn't have to touch the entire time would be fine by him. He stood there, confused about what to do next, when the settling of her hand on his shoulder drew his attention to her.
"Stop acting like I'm going to eat you if I get too close. It's just a dance."
"Yeah, just a dance," he anemically replied. He raised his left hand for her take as he placed his right on her hip.
As they started dancing Rangiku could feel a notable rigidity to his movements. They'd danced like this before and never had he been so stiff. It almost felt like he was trying to dance like he would with his mother. She did say that it was just a dance, but that didn't mean that she wanted to be like this. She curled her hand around, so she was gripping his shoulder from behind, which pushed her closer. Now, they were practically cheek to cheek. His hand, however, was still on her hip, not pushing her back, but not wrapping around her either.
Being so close to him, she could easily smell the earthy scent of his cologne, the one he always wore. That scent must have somehow magically transformed on him, because she'd found it one day in a department store and tested it out to discover that it smelled nothing like him. It also reminded her of all the wonderful times they shared. She felt a little nostalgia for those days, and it made her want to talk to him a little more.
"Aside from avoiding me, are you enjoying yourself today?" she asked, still cheek to cheek with him.
"You really planned this thing out well."
"What makes you think I was the one who planned this?" she asked, an innocent giggle tickling her voice.
"Come on, I don't know Orihime-san all that well, but once I saw you walking down the aisle, the garden wedding and string quartet made much more sense."
"You got me there. The girl didn't know what she wanted, so I offered some help since I have a much better flare for style."
"Offered to help, or took over the planning?"
"If I took over completely, the bridesmaid dresses would be a lot sexier."
"That's true," he replied with a slight laugh. "But she did a good job picking that dress out. You really look nice."
"So do you. I like the longer hair."
"That's not intentional. I just get so busy that getting a haircut is the last thing on my mind."
"It's good to see that you're still so annoyingly humble, and I say that in a good way, Shuu."
It was at the moment that Shuuhei wished that the chorus to the song was repeating for the last time. He was reluctant in this dancing business, and the last thing he needed at this point was for her to start using her old nickname for him. She said she didn't want to get into any kind of talk about their relationship, yet she was calling him Shuu. That was a name she used when they were alone. It was what she moaned as she came, and she uses it now? In his first bout of good luck for the evening, the song ended not long after her comment. He gently released her hand and backed away from her.
She felt the urge to go after him, but she couldn't get herself to walk after him. She just stood there as a dozen or so people danced around her as he walked towards Ichigo and Orihime, who were both walking from table to table, talking to their guests. It was at this time, Ichigo's loud friend Keigo danced her way vaguely she heard him call her name. It took a few times for her attention to snap back.
"Matsumoto-san, I was asking if you wanted to dance," he scruffy-haired young man said in the most dashing voice he could muster. He'd been putting the moves on her for the past week, and she'd been entertaining herself by rejecting him to see how dramatic a reaction she could get.
"Okay," she said, masking anything negative she'd been feeling. Having her fun with the obviously smitten Keigo would be a good distraction, not that she really needed it. She'd become quite the actress over the years.
For Shuuhei, not looking back took everything he could muster.
"Ah, Hisagi-san!" Orihime cheerfully greeted as she saw him approach. Ichigo turned from the table of people in front of him to face his boss.
"Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to congratulate you two before I left. Today is a great day for beginnings, and I know you guys will be happy for years to come."
"Thank you very much, Hisagi-san, but you should stay around a little bit longer. We're cutting the cake soon. It's chocolate, and I know you have as much a weakness for it as Ichigo-kun does."
"I would love to, Orihime-san, but I have a good deal of work waiting for me at home that needs to be done by Monday."
"That's fine, Hisagi," Ichigo replied before his new wife could say anything else. He knew why she was trying to stall him but wasn't about to try and meddle in his boss's relationship issues. "We're just glad you came."
"I wouldn't be a very good boss if I didn't come. You guys enjoy the rest of the party and your honeymoon. I'll see you when you get back, and we'll talk about your next feature, Kurosaki," Shuuhei said, holding out his hand.
"Thanks, man," Ichigo said as he shook the older man's hand. As he let go, Orihime blind-sided him with a brief hug. After releasing him, Shuuhei said his final goodbyes and casually walked out of the tent.
"I really like Hisagi-san," Orihime said as she watched him leave. She could feel Ichigo's glare as soon as she said those words. "I mean, he's a really nice person," she continued with a laugh, easily picking up on her husband's mild jealousy. "He's really good for Rangiku-nee, too. Maybe seeing each other today will help them change their minds. They looked so nice dancing together."
Ichigo smiled at his wife. Even at their wedding she was still worrying about everyone else's happiness.
"Come on, Orihime," he said taking her hand and giving it a soft squeeze. "Let's go cut some cake."
It had been two weeks since the wedding, and everything was just as it was before that night, not that he really expected there to be any change. There was just that little part of him that wished that Rangiku would call him soon after and tell her she'd made a big mistake. It was stupid of him to get his hopes up like that, and he knew it all along. That night at the wedding was just a little blip, and little chance given to a lovesick man. She wasn't going to come back.
Maybe it really was time to move on. At the rate he was going, he was probably going to spend his better years longing for a woman with whom he'd shared a handful of intense and passionate months. He wasn't getting Rangiku back, nor would he ever get a woman like her. It was far more likely that he was going to end up with the nothing of the all or nothing equation, and he just needed to make peace with that. There were still plenty of other women out there who were smart, beautiful, and confident. Going over this whole plan in his head, he made a mental note that maybe he should try and make up with Yuura. The woman was a very beautiful art critic for one of the nation's top newspapers. She might not have been Rangiku, but she certainly was a great woman in her own right.
His thoughts of the woman he'd recently brushed aside and what he could do to make things better were interrupted by a loud knocking at his door. Walking over to the entryway, he couldn't help but wonder who it was. Anyone who'd gotten to his door already knew the pass-code for the front door of his building. Anyone who that would more than likely have called before showing up, or, in the case of one person, had a key and would have just unlocked the door and walked in. Taking a glance through the peep-hole, he was shocked at who he saw. He quickly unlocked and flung open the door to make sure he wasn't seeing anything.
There stood Rangiku, looking quite elegant in a trench coat with a pair of black pants. A pair of sunglasses were pushed atop her head. He knew very well that this was her "spy look." She'd used it before when she dragged him along so they could spy on one of Ichigo and Orihime's dates. When he asked her why she was dressed like that the first time, she replied by saying it was just how female spies dressed. She must have been trying not to be seen if she came to him looking like that. Then he managed to see a large piece of wheeled luggage about five feet behind her as well as what looked to be a newspaper of some sort under her arm. He just hoped that she didn't come looking for what he thought she was looking for.
"Shuuhei, I need a favor."
"A favor? What exactly do you want?"
"Can I just come in and explain it? I don't want to stand out here and talk about this," she replied in a softer than normal tone. Something was definitely wrong, but Shuuhei had no clue what exactly it could be. There was a part of him wondering if this was some kind of trap. Not that it mattered. He always stepped into her traps, conscious of them or not.
"Yeah, sure," he mumbled, opening the door further to let her walk in. She gracefully stepped out of her heels and set her bag down in the entryway. Untying the belt of her trench coat and made her way to the couch in the center of the main living space. Sitting down, she grabbed the newspaper she has tucked under her arm, and tossed it on the coffee table in front of her.
She didn't say a word about the newspaper, and not having followed her immediately to the couch, he had to take a few quick paces to be able to see what was potentially the issue at hand. There it was. The headline splashed in big, bold characters across the tabloid.
GRAVURE IDOL FORMER DELIVERY HEALTH* WORKER?
"They found out," she replied casually.
~ to be continued
notes:
* delivery health is essentially a call girl/escort. Health has a tendency to be used as a keyword for sexual pleasure in mizu shobai/red light areas. This is actually perfectly legal in Japan, so long as there's no vaginal intercourse. These companies work on the basis of fliers that advertise girls, much like ones some may be familiar with seeing in Las Vegas.
Renji calls Byakuya, Kuchiki-sachou, which would be what one would call a company's president. The chou on the end is the same character as the one used in the familiar taichou and means leader.
As always, reviews are love.
