Madness.
There are many secrets about Karakura town that one cannot ignore, but have been lost in history for a while now. Like the story of a young geisha who got in the way of one mad with love. To some it might seem an unfair and cruel story, maybe even absolutely unrealistic, but it is as real as you and I.
This is the tale of unrequited love.
x
The young girl serving tea has flaming auburn hair the color of the leaves that fall at the beginning of autumn, her skin is tan and beautiful and her eyes are the color of the purest silver. Her chest is ripe and round, breasts nearly poking out of the fabric of her perfect flower kimono, golden skin glistening with the light that filters from the shoji screen. The purple sash around her waist hugs her figure perfectly, and the men sitting around the table as she happily serves them drinks are absolutely stunned by their figure. A golden pin holding the gorgeous cascade of hair up.
Yes, she must concentrate in her work.
A petite woman of short, spiky black hair and deep purple eyes, with the soft ivory skin of a gorgeous goddess ran down the hall of the mansion. Her tiny bare feet thudding against the wooden floor of master's house in an excited rhythm as she walked. Her black ragged kimono flies behind her in a jumble of clothing as she runs, and to some it might seem indecent but even the girl jealously staring at her from a faraway corner serving tea can see the exotic beauty in young Rukia Kuchiki.
The Kuchiki slides open the shoji screen without first requesting permission and apologizes for her tardiness to the orange-haired master. He is absolutely beautiful, his features are perfect, from his brown eyes to his sculpted muscular figure, and Orihime worships her owner and master to no end and Rukia's disrespectful mannerisms anger her, but seeing that the master, Ichigo Kurosaki, simply smiles and waves her forward to sit next to him she stays silent and keeps her comments to herself.
Orihime used to like Rukia when she first came here. She was younger than herself and her purple eyes that now burn with wild youth were shy and hesitant. Rukia kept her distance from master and so Inoue was his favorite. It wasn't that he no longer ran his fingers through her hair and held her close gently, but he had taken an interest in Rukia's young and ripe body.
What did she have that she did not?
Orihime had more! She had a pair of breasts to die for, and tight thighs that any man would drool over. Her hips moved in sync with the music when she danced and her tea was famous thought Japan, as so was her cooking. Curves in perfect shape and long fascinatingly colored her she always fuzzed over-but her…
Rukia was plain and boring in her eyes. Skinny to the point she seemed nearly anorexic. Instead of worrying about her geisha duties she somehow found her way inside master's dojo and used his katanas, bows and arrows for herself and gained a fine muscular figure.
SHE WAS NOTHING!
The only thing Rukia had that she lacked was her immaculate tiny feet that could fit in master's hand. Orihime knew she had never had her feet bound and that this was natural of her, but she herself had never had her feet bound either, and now she detested her mother for not allowing her to do so, as her feet were long and ugly to her.
Yes, Orihime must concentrate in her work.
Now Rukia was next to master, sitting like a man instead of a woman, her hand shaking in the air as she seems to scold him. How dare she raise a hand to master Kurosaki like that. She should lose that hand, she should have it cut right off…
No—someone like her deserves a worse punishment than losing that precious little hand of her's.
Orihime used to like Rukia.
X
A shadow unseen by all slides sneakily by a slightly open shoji screen, a glistening blade in her hand as she carefully moves towards the quarters of a sleeping girl with short black hair. The sound of her footsteps is being drowned by the chime that is being blown by the wind, nobody sees the young woman with auburn hair approach the futon with the reposing child who has morphed into a beauteous woman before Orihime could even try to stop her.
This woman who has taken master from her.
But as she raises the blade and the silver light bathes the scene, revealing Rukia's sleeping figure, her body finally doesn't look so tense as it does in the morning, but her guard has let down and she seems to be absolutely relaxed. She's truly beautiful in her own way, and for a moment Orihime hesitates.
This is the same woman who helped her carry master's clothing to the river to be washed, learn to make tea by her hand, how to sew her own clothes with Orihime's guiding hand and the same woman who one time told her she wanted to be like her when she grew older.
Orihime can feel the tears falling from her eyes and wetting her cheeks, they blur her vision and she can feel the taste of salt in her now so dry lips. Gazing at the knife in her hands she gazes at Rukia's reflection in the blade, suddenly remembering how master brushed his lips against her cheek, his hands moving down her hips as he lovingly whispered her first name. Rukia's first name.
The blade comes down between the small breasts of the girl she used to like, Rukia had awakened in her moment of hesitation and Orihime startled had brought the cutting edge onto her chest. Horrified, she backs away, blood flowing from the Kuchiki's now unmoving body.
The room is filled with the echo of Rukia's scream, the scream of Orihime's name—
"I-INOUE!"
Orihime glances up at her master, he cheeks soaked with her own tears as she smiles. Her hands clutch to his hakama as he stares at her in absolute horror. His eyes are widened as she attempts to stand up by grabbing on to his clothing. Her arms reach up at him, a bitter little laughter escaping her.
"Why, why, why is master crying?"
She hears herself say, master refuses to even move, to lift her up and swipe her off her feet in happiness as she had pictured when she imagined the moment when she got rid of that horrid Rukia Kuchiki who had taken master Kurosaki from her. She has managed to reach her feet and cups her master's face shakily, her voice sounding hysterical as he whispers something.
"We can be together forever now. She's not here anymore."
Orihime lets out another fit of laughter as he shakes her off himself, his companions grab both sides of her body and drag her away from him, and Inoue sees the tears flowing from his eyes, a pained cry comes out of his master's lips as he lifts Rukia's lifeless body.
Another smile stretches Orihime's perfect plump lips.
Master is exclusively her's.
But why is master leaving her to be dragged away by these men. Inoue reaches out, calling out his name, but he turns a deaf ear to her call. Inoue's hand stays stretched out as the figure of her master disappears, and an avenging blade is held to the back of her chest.
"Wait—I haven't told Kurosaki-kun—"
The sound of skin pierced by metal.
That I love him.