Here's chapter two. I just finished it today. I have to start working on chapter three, so it won't be up until next week sometime. Oh, yeah. A new character is introduced!
Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine.
A ceiling.
That was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes. Blinking to clear her vision, she tried to sit up. The room began to spin, and she became aware of someone hurrying towards her.
"You should not be sitting up so soon. You fainted, remember?"
Orihime allowed the woman to lower her back down. She watched as the black-haired woman lifted a pitcher of water, poured some in a cup, and handed it to her.
"Now do not drink too quickly." The woman admonished, pushing up her glasses.
Orihime paused. She hadn't been aware of her thirst until the first few drops were in her mouth. "Thank you, Miss...uh..."
"I am Nanao Ise. You may just call me Nanao, since we seem to be the same age." Nanao smiled, her dark blue eyes sparkling.
"How old are you?" She dared to ask.
"A proper lady would never reveal her age." Nanao replied sternly, but the twinkle in her eye showed her amusement. "I am nineteen."
"Twenty." The two women smiled at each other. The redhead took a sip, then sighed.
"You seem troubled. Perhaps the reason you fainted is to blame?" Nanao asked quietly.
"Yes. I-I'm in trouble."
"Someone is pursuing you?"
"Oh, no, nothing like that. What I meant was I don't know what I should do now. I came here as a mail-order bride, yet my..." She wasn't sure what to refer to him as, "the man who placed the ad has denied knowing about it. Now, I'm stuck here until I can acquire enough money to purchase a ticket back to Virginia."
"What about your family? Could they not send you the money?"
Orihime blinked back hot tears. "They're all dead. My brother's death six months ago was my reason for coming here. I sold the house, but the money went to pay my brother's debts."
"Oh, I am sorry. But I am certain that Mr. and Mrs. Ukitake will let you stay here until funds can be acquired for you." Nanao smiled gently.
"I don't have much money, so I'll have to find another place to stay when it runs out." She was glad now that she had been so frugal with the money Ichigo had sent to her. A pang of hurt ripped through her chest. Why had he sent the ticket if he had intended to deny it? Perhaps she was the reason. She stared at her hands. The skirt she was wearing was one of her older ones, but she had thought it still suitable to wear for traveling. And surely it couldn't have been the dust. Traveling was dirty, so one should not expect a person to remain clean, especially in a wagon. Could it have been her smile? Sora had always said that she smiled too much, then assured her that he loved her smile. Or maybe it was her lack of height. Or was she too heavy? She shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts. She didn't feel like dealing with them right now.
"Are you all right?" Nanao questioned, a concerned look in her eyes.
"Oh, yes, I am. I was just thinking about my, um, predicament."
"Hm. It is after noon. Are you hungry? Sometimes a full stomach helps me to sort through problems."
"Yes, very. I haven't eaten since early this morning." Her stomach growled on cue, and she wished she had forced herself to finish her breakfast. She hadn't even finished half for fear she would lose it due to her nerves.
"I will go down to see if Mrs. Ukitake has some food from lunch left over." Nanao rose. "Just relax for now. If you wish to freshen up, there is water in that basin in the corner." With that, she moved out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
Orihime leaned against the pillows and surveyed the room. The walls were a light brown with a darker brown trim. The floor was wooden with a multicolored braided rug in the middle of the room. There was a small desk in the far left corner. A rocking chair was by the window and basin. A dresser stood by the desk, right across from the bed. She smiled. It felt homey. Her eyes rested on her trunk near the foot of the bed. Mr. Abarai must have dropped it off, just like he had promised.
At least some people still kept their promises.
Pushing the covers away, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood. She wobbled slightly, but she took a deep breath and steeled herself. She opened the trunk, having made it without falling.
She carefully selected a brown skirt and a cream shirt. The skirt had tiny leaves embroidered near the hem and waistline. Small buttons ran down the front of the shirt. She peeled off her clothing and used the cloth by the basin to wash most of the grime away. Maybe later she could see about securing a washtub and taking a real bath. For now, this would have to do.
She was just buttoning the last button when there was a knock at the door. She hesitated, then swept over to the door and opened it a crack. She swung it fully open upon seeing Nanao there, a tray in her hands.
"Oh, good. You are up and moving around." Nanao set the tray on the desk. "There is some chicken with potatoes, and a biscuit, too. Mrs. Ukitake is a wonderful cook. She said that you could remain here, free of charge, while you find a job and earn money for your ticket."
"I can't do that. I have to pay her somehow." Orihime protested weakly.
"Nonsense. She will not allow that. She loves helping those she meets. She treats them like her children, since she never had any of her own. Now eat before it gets cold."
Orihime couldn't help but smile as she lifted her fork and took a bite. Her eyes widened in delight.
"I told you she was a wonderful cook, did I not?"
"Yes, you did." She had to force herself to eat slowly. Otherwise, she would have gobbled it all down in a matter of seconds. As Orihime ate, Nanao began to talk about herself.
"I am from Boston, Massachusetts. My whole life I have dreamed about being a schoolteacher. My family tried to dissuade me, but I refused to listen. I applied for a position here, and now look at me." She spread her arms. "I am in the middle of nowhere, as my mother would say, and I love it. It is a far cry from Boston, but it is quiet and peaceful. I do not feel quite as rushed here. I think you would like it, too, if you stayed. If you find a job, would you? Mrs. Ukitake would let you stay here, though you would have to pay for room and board."
"I-I don't know. Truth be told, I just want to leave and forget this place ever existed." Orihime confessed, her eyes downcast.
"Of course." She smiled knowingly. "There was a time when I wanted to do just that." She was about to say more, but a sharp rap on the door stopped her. "Who could that be?"
Orihime bit into the biscuit, half-listening to what was happening across the room. She nearly choked upon hearing Ichigo's voice.
"I need to talk to Miss Inoue, please."
"Mr. Kurosaki. Hold on one moment." Nanao shut the door, and briskly walked to her temporary roommate's side. "Is he the man who placed the ad?" She hissed.
Orihime bit her lip, which was now becoming quite sore. She really had to stop that nervous habit.
"I see." Nanao stared at the door, a grim look on her face. She stormed to it, yanked it open. "Miss Inoue does not wish to speak to you. And I do not wish to see your face again. The nerve, asking a woman to marry you then leaving her alone. She has already suffered, and was merely looking for someone to provide for her. If you meant for this to be a joke, I can assure you that we are not laughing." Her voice had risen with each sentence, and her blue eyes gleamed black. "Now good day, Mr. Kurosaki." She slammed the door in his face. A triumphant look graced her features as she smiled at Orihime. "That took care of the problem."
Orihime's mouth dropped open. "I can't believe you-" She squeaked.
"Just yelled at him?" She laughed when Orihime nodded. "Yes, I am known to have quite a temper. Most of the people in this town have witnessed it, some of them on more than one occasion." She growled when Ichigo knocked again, this time louder. "I believe I told you that she did not want to speak to you."
"Please, I have something I need to explain. Even if she just listens through the door. She needs to hear this."
Nanao glanced at Orihime, gaging her response. "Speak, but make it quick. And if you dare insult her or hurt her in any way..." She let the sentence hang, partly for effect and partly because she wasn't sure what to threaten him with. That man was afraid of nothing.
"Miss Inoue, I have to apologize for my behavior earlier. You caught me off guard because I honestly had no idea about the ad. My father was the one who sent it in and just informed me about it today. Had I known about it, I would have handled it differently. Miss Ise, would you please open the door? I dislike talking to wood." When the door opened, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Now, would you mind giving us some privacy?"
"Do you think I would let you be alone in the same room?" She asked, incredulously.
"We are married, so it's not like it would be improper." Ichigo spat out, rather impatiently.
Nanao glared, knowing that she was beat. "You play the marriage card when it is convenient, hm? You have five minutes, beginning now."
The man didn't speak until he heard the door click shut. He sighed, relieved to be free of Orihime's self-appointed guard dog. "I really am sorry, Miss Inoue."
"Orihime."
He blinked. "Eh?"
"Please call me Orihime."
"All right, then. Orihime." He tested her name out. It rolled off his tongue easily.
"And apology accepted." She hesitated.
"What is it?" He was quick to pick up her uneasiness.
"I hate to ask, but I was wondering if perhaps you would loan me some money so I can go back to Richmond. I'll pay you back." She held her breath, waiting for his reply.
"Actually, that was one other thing I needed to talk about." He drew in a breath and plunged in. "I was thinking that you could stay here. With me. I mean, we are married, after all. And one of my duties as a husband is to provide for you. But if you don't want to stay, you don't have to."
Silence reigned as Orihime considered his offer. Not that there was much to consider. She had known when she first wrote to him that if he chose her, she would be living in the same house with a stranger. Why should it make any difference now? But he had not intended to have a wife. What if he ignored her? Or worse, beat her? A shudder shook her shoulders. No, she wouldn't think about it. She could go back to Virginia, but what was there for her? She had no family, and she had been too shy to make friends. She sneaked a quick glance at Ichigo. He seemed as uncomfortable as she was. His hands dug into his pockets, and his gaze bored a hole through the floor. He intrigues her, she had to admit. She had never seen anyone with orange hair before. But it wasn't just his hair that had caught her attention. Earlier, he had exuded an air of confidence. He seemed strong, and he had apologized to her. That had to count for something, right? She stood, her skirt rustling as she stepped in front of him.
"I'll stay." She whispered.
Ichigo stared at her. He had not been expecting her to agree, what with how rudely he had treated her. He managed a smile. "Great. Uh, I brought the wagon, though I wasn't sure if I would need it. I'll put your luggage in the bed, and then we can leave."
"Okay. My trunk is there." She pointed.
"Only one?"
"Yes." She looked down. He seemed upset.
"I thought you'd have more. After all, you'll be living here now."
"I was thinking that I could just buy material here to make clothing. Unless we don't have the money." She covered her mouth with her hand. How could she assume such a thing? Surely he had other things to spend his money on.
"No, you can do that. I was just...surprised, that's all. I was under the impression that women packed several trunks."
"One minute." A voice drifted through the door.
Ichigo ignored her. "You can finish eating while I take it downstairs. I'll be back up in a few minutes." He picked up the trunk. "Could you get the door?"
"Uh, sure." She hurried over, pulled it open.
Nanao nearly fell to the floor. She quickly righted herself. "Good. You are done. Now you can..." She eyed the trunk. "And what is this?"
"Orihime is staying with me, Miss Ise. If you would move, I greatly appreciate it. This is rather heavy."
Nanao let him pass, then whirled on Orihime. "Are you seriously going with him? After what he said to you?"
"It was all a misunderstanding, Nanao. We managed to clear it up. Besides, we are married."
"But you do not know him!"
Orihime laughed gaily. "That's what happens when you're a mail-order bride. Don't worry. I'll be fine." She sighed, feeling the butterflies in her stomach again. "I'm not very hungry, though."
"I will take the plate to the kitchen. You get ready for your...husband." Her eyes twitched slightly.
"Thank you, Nanao." Orihime took her hair down, then hurriedly pinned it back up. She nervously smoothed her skirt.
"I hope you know what you are doing."
"Really, do you think that poorly of me, Miss Ise?" Ichigo asked dryly, appearing behind her.
"I am not entirely sure what to think of you. Perhaps you should be hanged." She stated bluntly, lifting her chin.
He scowled. "For a lady, you sure do speak your mind."
"For a gentleman, you sure do not act like one." She retorted.
"Please, stop." Orihime stepped between them, a hand in the air. "I-I don't like it when people fight..."
Ichigo grunted, but kept his mouth shut. He shoved his hands in his pockets, anxious to get home. What he wanted to do was go to sleep and wake up from this nightmare. "Are you ready to go? I need to be home in case there's an emergency since no one knows I'm here."
"Oh, yes, of course. Thank you for helping me, Nanao." Orihime beamed.
"You are welcome, Orihime. Do come and visit."
"I will." She gave Nanao an impulsive hug, stunning the schoolteacher, then waved before walking away with Ichigo. She followed him silently to the wagon, murmuring a barely audible 'thank you' when he helped her up. She found it difficult to keep her cheerful expression, so she let it drop, knowing that her bonnet would keep her face hidden. She just prayed that his house wasn't far away. She detested being in a wagon again.
Meanwhile, Ichigo was attempting to think of something to say, but came up empty every time. "Dang it." He was frustrated and tired. He still could not believe what his father had done. "I'm never going to speak to him again." He snapped the reins on the horse's back. The steed snorted and broke into a trot.
"It's very beautiful here."
The man jerked his gaze towards Orihime. "Yeah, I guess it is." The silence hung heavy around them once more, and Ichigo gritted his teeth. Never before had a five minute ride seemed so long. He cleared his throat. "My -uh, our- house is right up ahead."
Orihime nodded. She unclenched her fists and stared at the red marks where her nails had dug into the skin. She felt the wagon halt to a stop and sighed in relief. Finally, she could walk again. She stood and impatiently waited for Ichigo. He held out his hand and she took it, eager to get down. In her haste, she tripped on her skirt and plummeted headlong into him. Ichigo staggered backwards from the unexpected impact, but maintained his balance. After a minute, he became aware that she was still in his arms, her small hands clutching his shirt and her face pressed against his chest. His heartbeat quickened. He couldn't breathe.
Suddenly, Orihime gasped and pushed back, her cheeks flaming. "I-I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. My skirt...I stepped on it, and-"
Ichigo gawked at her as she kept rambling. He had heard that females had the 'gift of gab', as his father had put it, but hadn't actually seen it until right now. He clamped a hand over her mouth before she could begin another tirade. "All right, look. I don't mind you staying here with me, but let's get one thing clear. I don't talk much, and I dislike people who do. Now go inside. I'll get your trunk."
Her shocked expression quickly faded to one of hurt. She stumbled over an apology and scurried past him. He didn't move. He realized that he had taken his frustration out on her, thereby hurting her. Again. He ran a hand over his face. He didn't know what to do. All hew knew was that she was probably in there, crying her heart out, and he was the cause of her pain. He had never felt so low in his life.