Title: Courting Darkness
Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.
I really was not expecting this to get that big of a response… Thank you so much!
I might have gotten Orihime a little OOC in this, but I was just thinking that for once, I'd like to see her get a little bit feisty… I mean, sometimes Tite gives her a little bit of an edge, but between you and me, I think he could take it just a step further. Not much, mind you… but just a pinch.
Chapter Two
Orihime stared at the man in front of her, certain that she had never seen him before. She would have remembered him. He seemed to carry an air of amused menace and his eyes held a wicked spark. He stood with a careless grace that belied the speed and agility of his movements.
And she was sure she would have remembered him, because he was clean.
Someone with such a dark and sinister presence had to be evil, or at least perversely depraved, but never the less, he wore clothing of excellent cut and quality. Not the attire of commoners and peasants she had seen on all the others since coming here, and the oddity of that struck her.
She glanced again at the sword on his back and the fine detail of the hilt. If she wasn't so afraid of it, she might have thought it beautiful.
Orihime swallowed. No. She was sure she would have remembered him.
His hair was long in front, long enough that when he tilted his head down, like he was now, he was looking up at her through strands of orange locks. The gesture should have made him seem playful, but the light glittering in his eyes only made it disturbing instead.
Orihime captured all of this in a moment.
He was still smiling at her and something clicked in her head. Old lady? What old lady?
She frowned.
Ever since she had been forced to come live in the slums, Orihime had been discovering all sorts of things about herself. One of these things was that she had very little use for all of the etiquette and good manners relentlessly drilled into her as a child. The second thing she had learned was that she really didn't miss it.
The man in front of her continued to smile. "You don't look anything like the ugly picture they gave me."
She blinked then wrinkled her nose. "Is that a compliment?"
Orihime straightened, waiting for him to reply, but after a minute she realized that his gaze had shifted lower. She glanced down to see her kimono still some-what tied into her sash, exposing one slender and well-formed thigh all the way to her hip.
Orihime looked back to see that he had done the same. He was doing that thing again, where his head was down, but he was looking up at her. Something between lust and violence sparked in his eyes, and whatever it was provoked an odd response in her. For an instant, she didn't feel frightened at all, only drawn to him. Excitement flitted through her belly.
Then he smiled again, almost as if he knew what she was feeling.
She sucked in a breath. He had given her that look deliberately.
This new vulnerability shocked Orihime and sent her into a panic. Without thinking, she spun around and ran, racing across the roof with a speed born of pure fright. She heard the orange haired man utter a string of curses so offensive that she almost stumbled over her own feet. Orihime increased her speed as she neared a ledge, leaping the gap to the next roof.
She heard the light scuff of footfalls behind her.
He was already after her. She knew without turning that he would be far too fast for her simply to outrun. The uneven roof tops gave her some protection as she knew them well by now, and she had always been light of foot. She ducked behind the edge of a building and slid into a crack between two walls, trying to slip through to the other side. It was very narrow, with just enough room for her small frame.
Or so she had thought.
Her breasts lodged in the constricted space halfway through, and she had to wrench herself the rest of the way out. She had just pulled free when she heard the grate of a foot on the other side.
Orihime looked up to once again meet the eyes of the orange haired man, only this time, he didn't look nearly so amused. He watched her with the narrowed eyes of a predator.
There was no way he could fit between the buildings. The only way to get around would be to go all the way over the roof. She saw him size up the situation, coming to the same conclusion. On an impulse, she smiled, trying to return his earlier mocking look.
Orihime realized her mistake too late.
Instead of becoming frustrated, he seemed to take it as a challenge. He lept, quick as a cat, scaling the side of the wall like an expert.
With a gasp, she bolted and jumped to a rooftop an entire floor below the one she had been on. Orihime landed with a harsh impact, forcing herself up around the burning pain of muscles in her legs and climbed down the side of the building, half sliding, half jumping, until she reached the ground. Then she ducked into the deepest shadows she could find and waited.
A few seconds later, before her breath had even calmed, she saw a vague shift in the light that told her someone was above her. She held her breath, ignoring the screaming of her lungs.
It was like a shadow dropped from the sky, not ten feet from where she was standing. And even though he was so close, she heard nothing of his landing. He stood tall and motionless, listening. A scowl played over his features before he turned away, and in the time it took her to blink once, he was gone.
Orihime shuddered. That he could accomplish such a thing scared her more than being chased. He could be on her before she had any warning.
She began to tremble with a combination of fear and the after adrenaline of her flight, and had to talk sternly to herself. This was no time to be losing her courage. She waited a few more minutes before leaving her dark corner. She took care to go the same way she thought that her pursuer had, so that he wouldn't be behind her and slowly circled around the streets, making her way back to the old abandoned room she shared with Ururu and Jinta without further sight of her frightening new assailant.
()()()
Over the next few days, Orihime saw no trace of her usual hunters or the orange haired man from the other night. She kept herself busy with menial tasks around the small room, cooking and cleaning for the two younger children, which somehow managed to scratch a living for themselves on the streets.
It was three nights later when she left the relative safety of the dilapidated building, heading to the fish merchants to get their dinner. Orihime wondered the streets thinking about her unfortunate aunt that had no news of where she was or what had become of her. Aunt Matsumoto had probably given up on her, thinking she was dead.
She thought of her own parents at their family estate.
Her father was a notorious drunk that had fretted away their family fortune on alcohol and gambling, and her mother often entertained in the capacity of courtesan to other gentlemen of title and wealth, trying to keep her fancy dress and frivolous spending. It had been tolerable for Orihime when she had her brother, but after his death there was no shelter from her parent's madness.
That was when her aunt had offered her a place in her house, a place far away from her father and the lenders that had threatened to make Orihime work off his debt in a brothel.
She was sure that her aunt would be looking for her, but there was no way she could return carrying such a dangerous secret. It would only serve to put the people she loved at risk, and she just wasn't willing to do that.
She tugged her cloak closer around her face as she entered the market.
There was usually a sweet old man with a tuff of fluffy white hair that gave her a fair price on his fish. Orihime had instantly taken a liking to him and had promised bring her business only to his stall.
It was as she looked for his familiar boney shape around the hustle of the market, that she nearly ran into a tall man with bright red hair headed in the opposite direction. She swerved to avoid an embarrassing collision, when she felt a hand on her wrist. Spinning around, she came face to face the same man.
Blinking, Orihime had a moment to take in his face and tattoos before realizing her predicament. This man was obviously yakuza. A paid killer. She tried to jerk her hand free and when she couldn't, she began to look around for help. A crowd of people milled around them, some throwing quick glances her direction, but all of them walking away quickly. No one would dare speak out against a yakuza thug.
"Caught 'cha... Sorry, but you're coming with me."
Orihime struggled backward as he tugged at her wrist. "L-Let go."
"No chance. You're worth too much." Then to her horror, he called over his shoulder into the crowd. "Hey, Hichigo, I got 'er."
A man emerged from the throng of people hurrying to get away. He wore an immaculate black suit that seemed out of place among the poor denizens of the street market. Orihime's eyes became big as she recognized the familiar orange haired ruffian.
"Oh, Kami-sama…" Her fear gave her strength. She picked up the nearest and largest fish by the tail, swinging it around and hitting the yakuza thug square in the face.
The connection between face and fish was solid, and he went tumbling back, wildly flailing into a man carrying a basket of clams. The fish merchant in turn fell into the one called Hichigo, and they collapsed in a pile of tangled limbs and curses.
Orihime fled, not daring to look behind her as she ran around tables and out of the market. Breaking free of the crowds, she began to run flat out. She wasn't sure where she was going and that scared her. This wasn't the district she was familiar with. They would catch her and throw her in the river! They would tie her up so that she couldn't swim, so that she couldn't save herself… They would gag her…
She tried to run faster, but she couldn't. Her lungs were already burning, and a cramp was hitching up her side. Looking around, she took in the abandoned storage houses as she raced down streets and through alleys. Her mind spun from fear and exhaustion.
She had no idea where she was.
When she could no longer go any further, she ducked into a doorway, placing her back to the heavy flaps that covered the entrance.
While she had run, the night had become black. Clouds liberally dotted the sky, obscuring the moon from view and darkening the streets even more. She hoped it would be enough to hide her.
She pressed herself back further as she heard footsteps coming her way. A man came into view, stumbling and carrying a bottle. He took a swig as he wove by, and Orihime watched him carefully, ready to flee if he suddenly came at her.
But he didn't, and she heaved a sigh of relief as the cloth at her back was brushed aside.
Arms grabbed her, hulling her back with impressive strength that was every bit as frightening as being bound with ropes and drowned. A hand covered her mouth before she could gather her wits enough to scream.
She kicked hard, striking out in blind panic and provoking a soft curse. For some reason that inspired her, so she kept kicking until she heard an amused voice over her head.
"Didn't you turn out to be a sly and deceitful little creature… but if you kick me again, I'll make sure you wish you hadn't."
Orihime stopped kicking. She could feel his fingers dragging against her rib bones where he held her.
"Little one, that sketch didn't do you justice."
()()()
He hadn't expected this at all. Hichigo tightened his hold on the girl in his arms while he waited for Renji and Ikkaku.
He'd been asked to find a Lady, frightened and lost in the streets of Tokyo, or at the very least, discover what had happened to her. And it should have been easy, a get-in-get-out job. Instead, he'd ended up chasing a surprisingly cunning young girl all over the city streets.
And she had gotten away from him twice.
Nobody got away from Hichigo. He could just imagine what the thugs at Rukia's would say, if they ever found out that a spoiled brat from the money side of town had led him on a wild goose chase across the rooftops of Rukongai.
His captive struggled and he hissed through his teeth. She was not the old woman he had been led to believe, and feeling her pressed and squirming against him, scraped across his desire like a file against glass.
And damn it, where was Renji and Ikkaku?
It was getting harder to hold her quiet without threat of suffocation.
She struggled again, and a spike of sensation shot through his body, leaving an unsatisfied heat in its wake.
"Fuck."
She stilled, tilting her head back to look at him in what he assumed was a disapproving manner. He raised an eyebrow at her and watched as she colored. It took him a second to realize he was staring.
He spat another curse.
Damn her. She was the reason that he was back in a place he had never thought to see again. And now she had the audacity to stand there, looking at him with those big, innocent eyes, teasing him more proficiently than a skilled and talented whore.
It was just as he was wondering what to do about it that a carriage pulled up, and a bald headed man lept out and opened the door. Hichigo swept his captive up and into it without a word, and it began moving down the street. He threatened her with all manner of grievous punishments if she even tried to speak, and lapsed into an ill-humored silence that lasted until they reached Rukia's inn.
When they arrived, he bundled her into his room and locked the door. Then, remembering that she had a talent for climbing, he ordered her window barred from the outside.
Downstairs, he watched Renji tend to a large bruise on his face, while he spent the better part of an hour trying to calm his body's baser instincts. He didn't want her. She irritated him, causing all this trouble and bringing him back here. He needed to get rid of her.
In front of him, Rukia appeared with her arms crossed over her chest. "I told you, I didn't want trouble. What's that girl doing here?"
"Don't get yourself worked up about it." Hichigo snapped. "She'll be gone before you know it."
Standing, he turned his back on her, sweeping up the stairs and into the room where his hostage waited.
As he shut the door, a china bowl sailed at him, which he barely managed to avoid. Rising, he nearly missed ducking around the candle holder that came at him next. He panicked at the sight of a heavy ceramic pitcher and tackled her before she could get a proper aim. It fell from her grasp to the floor with a heavy thud.
She gasped as he knocked her onto the bed and fell on top of her.
He registered the sound of running footsteps, but was too busy avoiding scratching nails and kicking feet, to pay any attention. The girl landed a slashing blow to his neck.
He growled.
"Hichigo?"
Grabbing her wrists, he looked over his shoulder at Ikkaku and Rukia, while his captive tried to kick him shitless. "Damn it, get out! Ikkaku, lock the door and wait."
With the door shut, he closed his eyes. Underneath him, the girl was writhing and thrusting her body against him in an attempt to shove him off. Clenching his jaw, he hissed at her, reaching the end of his patience.
"Stop it! Just fucking stop it! You're either perfectly, completely mad, or you're desperate to get fucked."
The struggling ceased instantly.
He counted to twenty before he looked at her again. She was staring up at him with wide eyes. Her hair formed an aura of red gold around her face, and from this close, he could make out the different shades.
It was to first time he had gotten a good look at her.
Heavy dark lashes framed mirror bright eyes, and as she panted, her breath puffed out from between softly parted pink lips. Every time it did, her chest rose up, pushing against his.
Keeping hold of her wrists, he pushed up onto his elbows, just enough so that he could keep his sanity. He looked at her again.
The sketch he had been given must have been awful, because not only was she not an old woman, but she was strikingly beautiful. If he was going to rate her on a scale, he would have to say that she was quite possibly one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.
Too bad he didn't like her.
He blinked then growled at the source of his frustration. "Are you finished?"
She looked at him.
"I-I won't throw anything else at you… if that's what you mean."
Hichigo got up and discovering that he wasn't presentable, and turned away while he fought to get himself back under control. When he turned to face her again, she had put the bed between them and was picking a set of blue hair pins off of the blankets. She stopped at his movement, her hands clenched on the pins as if she might use them as a weapon, if he decided to come at her again.
"I never heard of a lady that would rather spend her time in the slums than in her safe and pampered birdcage."
She wrinkled her forehead. "What are you talking about?"
He huffed. "Never mind... You're Lady Orihime Inoue, and I don't care why you're here, I'm taking you back to your aunt's place, so you can stop throwing shit at me."
The alleged Lady Inoue bit her lip in concentration, appearing at a loss. Then she brightened. "Oh... I guess Ichimaru wants me questioned before he kills me." She lifted and dropped elegant shoulders. "Or his master does."
Hichigo didn't think she was properly frightened, considering her own words, before he realized the name she had just spoken and scowled.
"Ichimaru?"
His mind went blank. That name meant more to him than she could possibly know. He tossed aside his hatred as he realized something he might have noted sooner, if he hadn't been distracted by pink mouths and multicolored hair and all manner of flying objects.
"You're not lost, you're hiding. From Ichimaru Gin."
She blinked. "You're quite good at that, but it won't work. I won't fall for your tricks."
"What?" He snapped. "What tricks?"
"I'm not so simple minded that I would trust you easily and tell you what you want to know." She straightened her back and lifted her chin, and the change was remarkable. Somehow she had acquired an air of nobility, which held no reliance on luxurious clothing or palatial surroundings. It was a mark of authority that spoke of lineage and generations, but more importantly, it spoke of integrity of spirit. "I won't tell you anything. Not when people are counting on me."
A moment later his brain started functioning again. "You were hiding from Ichimaru… and you think I work for him?"
She nodded.
He came up short. "Why?"
"Isn't that obvious, Hichigo-san? You-"
He cut her off. "It's not Hichigo-san. It's Hichigo."
She frowned at him. "In polite society, an unmarried woman does not address a man so familiarly."
"Well, you're nowhere near polite society, but I'm going to fix that."
"You already know I can't go back to my aunt's."
"Why not?"
"Because I would be dead by sunrise."
She said it so simply and without emphasis, that he believed her. She had been running for her life ever since she had vanished. If he took her home, she would be killed.
He rubbed at the tension forming in his forehead. "Fuck me."
Orihime's eyes widened at his words.
He grinned at her. "Now, don't go putting thoughts in my head, or you'll get all those punishments I promised you…And no, don't say anything, I'm thinking." He walked an aimless circle before coming back to her. "You'll just have to go somewhere else."
"You're taking me to Ichimaru?"
"What the hell, woman... How is he even in this?"
"How can he not be?"
He gave her a narrow-eyed glare, just in case she was being ingenious. "You don't know what he is, Inoue-sama… Whatever you've seen so far is nothing, nothing compared to what he can do if pushed."
"You seem to know him well."
He blinked at her suspicious tone. Then he shook his head.
"Stupid girl, what have you gotten yourself into? I didn't bring you here in secret, you know."
He shook his head again and strode to the door. "Ikkaku, tell Renji to get the carriage ready. And Ichimaru's in this, so watch yourself. Let Rukia know we're leaving, she should be pleased."
From the other side of the door came a string of foul curses.
Hichigo came back to stand by the bed, thinking hard about what the next few hours would entail. When he looked back at Lady Inoue, she had her blue hair pins back in her hair. He almost smiled at how it made her look like a little girl playing dress up.
"Hichigo-san, I will pay you to let me go."
His good humor dried up. To his surprise, he was actually offended.
He scoffed. "You think you have enough money to pay me?"
"Not… not on me, but I do have money."
He tilted his head. "What about those parents of yours? They're titled, lands and everything. Why don't you get it from them?"
"My parents are tied up financially. You couldn't know how much it costs to run an estate with farm lands and livestock."
Hichigo narrowed his eyes.
"Wait. Your family owns all that, and yet you're stuck living off the charity of this aunt of yours?"
Her eyes grew strained in a way he hadn't seen yet. "I don't have any desire to tell you all the details of my family's situation. Do we have a deal?"
"No."
Inoue's face fell. "But, it would be a lot of money…"
"How much?"
"Three hundred gold coins."
He snorted. "Not even close."
"B-but that's my entire independence… You never intended to accept!"
"Just curious what you could afford, now I know one of those details of your family's situation that you wanted to hide from me so bad."
She yelped in shock and frustration, and then all of her careful dignity shattered. She grabbed the pitcher from where it had fallen on the floor and launched it at his head. It shattered on the wall and a shard bit into his left cheek. He choked out a curse and called for the door, a second later it opened.
Hichigo slammed it shut behind him and as soon as the noise cleared, he yelled through the door. "You're getting awfully close to all those punishments I promised you. Think of how uncomfortable a trip this will be, if you can't walk."
He listened for a response, but all he detected was shocked, maidenly silence.
N/A
Hmm… some of that was pretty dirty.
Too far…?
