…
…
Drip. Drop. Drip.
It had happened on a rainy day. It was boring in the shop. Everything was boring to Ichigo. He had come back home, if only for a day. His sisters were growing up and his father was still the idiotic ass he would always be until the day he dropped dead.
His father had left, and the twins with him. Ichigo told them to be safe, it was raining after all, and Isshin had replied with a Hug-of-Justice, which Ichigo dodged, and Karin had grown irritated, leaving the chaos behind her as Yuzu wept for her father's injury.
Drip. Drop. Drip.
Ichigo did not come home often. After his mother had passed away, he'd gone into writing, and his books were one of the top-selling. He wasn't exactly smug about that, but it got him enough money to buy a big empty house and peace. It was enough for him.
Sighing, Ichigo buried his chin in his folded arms, which were rested on the counter. The clinic was lit up, but no one was coming in. Silently, he stared at the door, watching the rain fall down to the earth in clear ribbons, splattering onto the windows. He nearly huffed – he would have to clean them tomorrow before he left for the drive back home.
Drip. Drop. Drip.
There was a flash of lightening.
Ichigo paused, surprised.
Ding, dong.
Red-golden hair plastered against the small face he was not able to see. It was a female, he knew that, and she was tiny under the large body she was carrying over her back. Ichigo rose, eyes widening, as she dragged the figure inside, hunched over, the beautiful tresses of sunset falling over her slim shoulders.
Finally, the wide, wide hazel gaze rose to his.
Her tears seemed heavier than the rain outside.
She whispered one word, but it was enough to spring him back to life, "Please."
…
…
Ichigo was pissed.
He was pissed at Renji, he was pissed at this place, and he was pissed at himself. Renji had called him only a few hours ago. Of course, Ichigo had answered – reluctantly – and was surprised to see Renji wished him to accompany him to an after-party. Ichigo usually did not like being around snooty people – all the big-time artists, entertainers, and journalists. Renji was eager, something Ichigo found perplexing, but followed along anyway.
But when the car had brought him straight to a peculiar destination, he busted a vein. A strip club. Really? What kind of fucking after party was this? But he did see Mayuri – a top scientist in Mundo Biology, along with his assistant Nemu. He spotted Byakuya, pristine and face blank, Soi Fon next to the executive director. He was sure, somewhere in there, he saw that prick Aizen, the Head of all corporations.
Ichigo scowled, furrowed eyebrows over his brown gaze, and leaned back in his seat. It was a savvy place – very much done up and spacious. His glare sharpened even more when a young, pretty blonde tried to touch his arm, asking him if he needed some relaxing. Ichigo nearly tossed her across the room.
"No, thanks," He managed to ground out between clenched teeth. The woman blinked, startled, and Renji chose that chance to step in. Sliding her a bill, he smiled politely.
"Please excuse my friend. He's kinda nervous. It's his first time, after all," the redhead said, and the girl's expression melted, and she smiled seductively as she took the money and jammed it into her lacy bra.
"I understand," she drew her hand up from Ichigo's shoulder to his neck, caressing the smooth, taut muscles with her thumb, "No problem. I'm Yui." She murmured, leaning closer, "And if you need anything," She glanced at Renji, and then placed her lips at Ichigo's ear, "and I mean anything, don't be afraid to give me a call, ne?"
Renji grinned wolfishly, "Thanks, Yui." The girl left with a wink and Ichigo felt his teeth grind together. Renji's smile fell as he placed his hands on the small, circular table. "You can be such a party-pooper, Ichigo."
"I told you I didn't want to come to this shit-fest." Crossing his arms over his chest, he glowered at him, "This place is disgusting."
"You're too innocent," Renji muttered, "Maybe if you actually relaxed and had a drink—"
"Fuck this," Ichigo growled, standing. He stood from his seat, rummaging in his pocket. When he pulled out a handful of bills, Renji arched his brows, "I'm going home."
"No way!" Renji barked, standing, "You can't leave!"
Ichigo already had his jacket on, "Watch me, asshole."
"Dammit, you bastard! If you leave—"
Suddenly, all the lights shut off. Ichigo tensed, surprised, but his eyes quickly adjusted. Renji was already panicking while murmurs rose, some excited, while others curious. Ichigo watched as the lights flickered back on, a bit darker, and tinged pink. There was a man at the podium with a sly grin, black hair falling over one eye, and dressed in a nice dark suit.
"Ladies and gentlemen," He started, his voice reminding Ichigo of a conniving snake, "My name is Gilga Nnoitra and I'll be your host for this evening's merchandise."
Ichigo raised a brow, subconsciously leaning closer. Glancing down at Renji, he saw the redhead was equally as confused, "Hey," Renji looked up at him, "what is this?"
Renji shrugged, taking another glimpse at the stage, where a spotlight was shone down. Nnoitra's grin widened. "I don't know…"
"Let's begin." He gestured a hand to the stage. Behind the curtain, there was a ruffle and suddenly, a young woman was tugged onto the stage. Ichigo's and Renji's eyes widened. There, a curvy figure, long golden hair, and more chocolate skin exposed than the day when she was born. "This," The two men tugged the struggling girl forward. Nnoitra took a hold of her hair, forcing her eyes up to the audience, "is Harribel. Beautiful, ne? More exotic, than anything."
Ichigo and Renji were gaping by now. The tattooed man swallowed, "You've gotta be kidding me."
But they surely weren't. Ichigo closed his dry mouth and glanced around. Mayuri was grinning, whispering something to Nemu, Byakuya was regarding the stage with an apathetic gaze, and Aizen was nowhere to be seen. The other powerful business men were already bringing out their wallets, standing. The first bargainer said,
"Ten-thousand yen for the girl!"
"Pretty cheap," Nnoitra sang lightly, cupping a hand under his chin with a teasing smirk, "How about we start at forty-thousand?"
Ichigo's fists clenched, "What the fuck—" Suddenly, there was a hand on his fist. Ichigo jerked, and looked down at his longtime friend, Kuchiki Rukia, concern etched onto her small face.
"Ichigo," she said, her voice low, "Now's not the time."
"The fuck are you talking about?!" Ichigo blurted furiously and Rukia glared at him, "They're selling her! Fuckin' selling her, Rukia!"
"It's wrong, yes," Rukia said, crossing her arms. She was quick to avert her gaze, "This is why I did not want you to get involve. This is all…" She shuddered, "Nii-san, doesn't even like bringing me to these things…"
"And I doubt if we went to the police," Renji said, "they would believe us. They'd probably have this place cleaned up before we could even dial." He flickered his gaze to the door, "After all, this place is heavily guarded." Indeed, there were three men by the exit, enough for Ichigo to take, but it would be hell.
"Sold! For five-hundred thousand yen~!" Nnoitra exclaimed, banging a gavel against the wood of his stand. Ichigo glowered at him. He was enjoying himself way too much. With clear disgust, the three friends watched as the curvy woman was taken off stage, quiet now, and her cheeks a deep crimson color.
"This one," Nnoitra leaned close to the microphone, lowering his voice in a sultry whisper, "is a very exquisite find. You don't usually see these kinds of women nowadays." He waved a hand elegantly to the curtain. The red velvet lifted a moment later.
Red-gold.
Ichigo froze.
She was naked, he realized. Perfect, ivory skin. Long, tempting legs were exposed, leading up to rounded hips, and flat stomach. Her breasts were bare – soft and sensually large, small pink nipples hard and perfect. She was bounded as well, wrists tied behind her back, and her mouth was covered by a thin cloth. He remembered that face, that hair, that body, an exact year ago.
As she fell to her knees, her long, thick tresses pooled around her, framing her small, wet face beautifully. Her large, teary honey eyes stared up, outwards to the audience, and it reminded Ichigo vaguely of a deer caught in headlights.
"…go…Ichigo…Ichigo!"
He jerked. Rukia and Renji were staring at him, eyebrows upwards, and he felt the sweat on his overheated body.
"You alright?" Rukia asked, voice soft. She reached out to touch him again, but he glared up at the stage. "Ichigo?"
"No."
Rukia blinked at his tone, shocked, and the two friends watched as Ichigo pushed past them, and into the crowd, "What the hell?" Renji groused, "What's gotten into him?" When Rukia threw him a dubious, aggravated look, he scratched his cheek sheepishly, "I mean, b-besides all this," he stretched his arms out to the stage to make his point.
"I don't know," Rukia huffed, watching as the orange-haired vanished. She grasped a handful of Renji's nice shirt, "C'mon. We're following him."
"W-What!"
Further in the crowd, Ichigo narrowed his eyes at the ass-host. The crowd's reaction was exactly what he had been looking for, as the men leered and prepared their cash. "A beautiful specimen, is she not? You never see such supple skin like this anymore – creamy, soft," He ran his hand over her smooth back, and she arched away, a muffled squeak leaving her mouth, "and her hair is all natural. Gorgeous color, ne?"
"Five-hundred thousand!" Someone yelled deep in the crowd.
"Ah~ Five-hundred thousand! Does anyone wish to go higher?" Nnoitra's smile was about to split his face in half.
"Five-hundred and fifty thousand yen!" Another yelled, a balled fist in the air full of bills.
"Six-hundred thousand!"
"Six-hundred and twenty thousand!"
"Going once," Nnoitra proclaimed gleefully, gavel high in the air, "Going twice."
"Seven-hundred thousand yen," A new voice said smoothly. Everyone quieted, surprised. Parting the crowd, Aizen stepped through, dressed impeccably, and hands resting in his pockets. Trustworthy assistant Gin walked along beside him with his typical, wide grin.
Nnoitra looked to be drooling, "Ah~ Aizen-sama, such a good fine! Anyone else? Going once, twice, and—"
"Eight-hundred thousand," Said another. The spotlight danced before finally landing on Kurosaki Ichigo. Nnoitra's mouth fell open as Aizen glanced upwards, smirking.
Rukia nearly fell over her own two feet. "I-Ichigo, what're you—"
"Eight-hundred thousand," Ichigo repeated strongly, hands fisted by his sides. And those wide, teary hazel eyes landed on Ichigo, her struggling weakening as they locked with fiery amber.
Nnoitra grinned widely, "What an offer! Eight-hundred thousand going once! Twice! And—"
"Nine-hundred thousand," Aizen called coolly with another smirk. Ichigo redirected his glare to the brunette. "I do not lose, Kurosaki. And besides, she'll look better in my bed, than yours."
Ichigo felt his blunt nails digging into the skin of his fists, "Yeah?" He grinned, feral at the boss before returning his attention to the stage, "One million yen."
Aizen's eyes narrowed as Nnoitra hooted along with the two, "Two million."
Ichigo's grin widened, "Three million."
Renji face-palmed, "What is he doing?"
Rukia didn't reply. Staring hard at her best friend, she tried to decipher his true motive. She knew Ichigo had never liked Aizen, but never put up a fuss about it. It was, in fact, written in the stars that they would never get along, but at the moment, she couldn't exactly tell what was going on. She darted her violet eyes from Aizen to Ichigo, and found the spark there in the orange-haired's brown eyes. He was fighting for the girl on the stage, but for what?
"Three-hundred million yen, Kurosaki-san," Aizen said, a smug look upon his face, "Care to go higher?"
Nnoitra grinned again, "Ah~ So we finally have a winner?" He raised his gavel as the men grasped onto the redhead's bound wrists, yanking her upward.
Briefly, Ichigo locked eyes with her once more, but it was enough to strengthen his resolve. As she stumbled weakly to the edge of the stage, and Aizen's smirk widened, Ichigo yelled.
"Eight-hundred million yen!"
There was a pause. Nnoitra's gavel was still in the air. His eyes bugged as they fell on Ichigo, who was staring at Aizen with clear defiance etched onto his face. The men tugging Orihime jerked to a stop, and glanced at Nnoitra, as though to ask what to do next.
"Is that enough?" Ichigo asked, his voice low.
And the gavel banged against the wood.
…
…
With a soft, impish smile, Aizen closed his eyes, "Congratulations, Kurosaki-san."
"Aizen-sama?" Gin questioned, quirking up his eyebrows.
With a sweep of his expensive tailcoat, Aizen turned, "Let us be on our way, Gin."
"Yes, sir."
…
…
What the hell was I thinking?
Ichigo tightened his grip around the coffee cup in front of him. Sure, it wasn't a lot of money and it really wouldn't damage anything in his life, but still. He'd been stupid enough to be drawn into that game. He looked up at the clock – three in the morning. Just great.
When it was all done and finish, Rukia had yelled at him, furious, as Renji looked torn between giving him a thumbs-up and then berating him. Ichigo sighed heavily – his friends were idiots. But he was an even bigger one, plus an asshole. He'd bought the girl, he couldn't believe himself. And when he took her to his home, placed her in the bed, he'd nearly had a heart attack. She was unconscious when he received her and clothed in nothing more than a sheet.
He wanted to kick someone's ass – his more than anyone's. The entire situation was shit. Burying his head in his hands, he tried to think correctly. There was a woman in his bed, not the first one, but fuck, she was a stranger. Nnoitra had congratulated him with a leer, calling her 'his property', and almost got punched in the shit. He could let the girl go once she woke up, maybe give her some money, and call her a taxi so she could get home.
But it still wouldn't do anything for his guilt. He was such a perverted, stubborn bastard. He should've felt smug – that's what Renji had said – for he'd won, beat Aizen, and gotten a prize. A disgusting prize…
He knew the girl. Her brother, Sora, had died in Kurosaki Clinic. There had been bullet holes in his body, and two bullets stuck in a lung, and another right under his heart. There was nothing Ichigo or his father could do. And the girl – the girl's whose name he had never learned – cried in front of him, beautiful and broken. He couldn't have took himself to the funeral, he felt unwelcome.
Still, every day, she was on his mind. He wondered, all through the year, what she was up to, did she ever get over her brother's death, if she was healthy, how much pain she endured. He should know, his mother had kicked the can when he was much younger, but he couldn't fully understand her agony when he'd lost her when he was just a kid, unable to comprehend such emotions.
You're an idiot. He mumbled to himself internally, grimly. The clock ticked, and he stood, leaving his coffee. He supposed he could sleep on the couch, flick on the television, but he hesitated. The girl could be cold, fallen out of bed, or maybe hungry. He paused one step from the living room, and then turned and walked up the stairs. There were only three bedrooms in his home, designed specifically for his family and friends to stay, and the other rooms were the library, TV room for Renji and the others, and a few bathrooms. Ichigo crept through the dark hallway, and paused at his bedroom.
When he opened the door, there was a small light on. He'd almost forgotten he left it like that. Sighing, he walked towards the lamp, and turned the light down just a notch. And then he turned and looked at the girl in his bed.
She was small, swallowed up by the masses of dark blankets. She was also still, and he caught a sliver of pale skin, her arms spread on either side of her, and her hair a mass of red, gold, blonde, and brown. He walked a little closer, stopping on the edge, and gazed down at her face.
Her beauty was enough to make his stomach curl. Her cheeks looked soft, warm, and the long, thick eyelashes rested on her cheekbones. Her slender eyebrows pressed together, her forehead wrinkled a bit, her small nose as well. He didn't even realize his hand was reaching out to smooth out her furrowed brows. As the pad of his thumb pressed between her eyebrows, he let out an unsteady breath.
Her skin was very warm. Slowly, he trailed his finger down the bridge of her tiny nose, and paused an inch from her lips. They were plush, soft, and pink. A second later, her breath, warm and soft, blew out onto his skin.
She was as bright as a star. Just as far away, too.
He nearly growled, yanking his hand away.
Great.
He was becoming a stalker. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he grinded his teeth together. Damn. That was it. He would give her all the money she needed, send her back home, and that was it, dammit.
She was not his property. She was a human being. And he was being creepy.
With that thought, he turned towards the door.
"…Hm?"
Ichigo froze, his muscles locking. Silently, he turned to look over his shoulder. He took a step closer to the bed, hesitated, and then took another and another, until he was hovering over the redheaded beauty once again. Her nose scrunched up again, and her long, thick eyelashes fluttered.
When the pale lids peeled back to reveal hazy honeyed eyes, Ichigo's breathing stopped. Her weary gaze met his a second later, and her entire body seemed to spring to life.
Ichigo was not prepared for what happened next.
…
…
I'm such a little kid. I created a new story. My New Year resolution was supposed to be slow down, go to the gym, but since I'm only one-hundred pounds, I found no reason to. My mother said my resolution should be stopping crushing on Ichigo, Inuyasha, and many others, and get over Ichihime when it was never going to happen (her being a IchiRuki fan). Pfft…None of you can blame me for bursting into laughter in her face, right?
Hehe~ Me and my mom both obsess over who Ichigo is going to end up with. She calls Orihime a big-boobed bimbo and I have to hate on Rukia more than I would enjoy. Pfft, as if Ichigo would end up with that girl! She's for Renji.
Um, please review for me. This story won't be long, but sexy. I LOVE sexy stories!
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Even though there is not solid Ichihime-ness in the anime or manga, one thing made me very upset about the Lust Arc. I had been reading around on the internet about Ichihime – because I obsess like that – and I stumbled across an article. First, it said something about the Lust Arc, my most favorite Arc by Kubo, but then, as I read more into it, it told me more about the fight between Ichigo and Ulquiorra.
I'm all for Ulquihime –shrugs- I like the couple, but I'm more in love with Ichihime than anything else. But as I continued on with the article (I don't remember where I found or how, or who it was by, but the person seemed very serious and experienced with such things, not like all the guys on tumblr) I saw some of the flaws the person saw.
Like, Ulquihime – though, we all wish for Ulquiorra to come back, forge some kind of bond with Orihime, we all know, deep in our hearts it's impossible. The person had said the relationship was a little forced, and I kind of agree, and not made to be looked at romatically. Again, I agree, because Ulquiorra didn't really know what being human, or having a heart was really about. Orihime told him.
Now, I do agree what she said about Ichigo and Orihime. During Ichigo's death, Orihime tried all to save him, and save herself and Ishida-kun, but while doing so, she was panicking, unable to grasp what was fully happening. Ichigo, on the other hand, was fully prepared to bounce back to life and save them both.
The person then described to me what Ichigo exactly said when rising back from the dead. Instead of saying "her" as many of us Ichihime fans have hoped, he really didn't say anything but "you". He met both Ishida and Orihime, which was a bit of a downer for me, but I was happy nonetheless. And, the writer then pointed out, how Ichigo became full hollow. In love, you're supposed to sacrifice something for the other, and the writer said Orihime was useless and did NOT sacrifice anything for Ichigo, like he did her.
The writer then called Orihime's love for Ichigo "just a crush", and that was the point I stopped reading. I know it was stupid to bring this up, and some of you might not even read this, I just felt like it was something for us all to talk about. What do you think?
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Star
