Author's Note: Second chapter rewritten enjoy.
"Orihime, move your arm more to the left!"
"But it hurts if I do that!"
"I don't care, move it!"
Orihime stared pouty-lipped at her manager. That damned woman was always telling her what to do and which poses were better for her, even if they hurt. "Then you better become flexible, woman!" she had always told her. Orihime wasn't training to be a ballerina, she wanted to be a model, and her manager wasn't helping her. She had a special spot reserved in Shoujo 100%, a female model-only magazine, and the editors weren't too sure she could keep it up.
"Alright, Orihime, go change and come back tomorrow!" her manager called. Orihime relaxed out of her pose, her muscles already throbbing to suggest the soreness to come tomorrow, and let out a very audible sigh of relief that made her manager's head turn. She gasped and folded her lips in, smiling sheepishly at the bespectacled woman. As soon as the older female had her back turned, Orihime shot her tongue out.
"Stupid Tochiname," Orihime muttered, yanking off the dress she might be featuring and proceeded to pull on her school uniform. "I can't do everything she wants me to. I have my limits, like any normal human. Maybe I can splurge some of my money on ice cream and spaghetti."
Orihime pulled the sweater vest over her shirt, gasping when her head popped out of the neck. She fixed her frizzy hair, giving it a spritz of hairspray, and grabbed her things. She made sure her house key was safely packed into her purse before leaving the dressing room. Her manager was standing outside the dressing room, speaking quickly into the speaker of her cell phone. As soon as she noticed Orihime walk out, her cell phone was flipped shut and she came up to the young model, the bitter aroma of hairspray making her lip curl. She forced the muscles in her face to give her that usual frown.
"Miss Inoue," she said, "the editor wants me to talk to you about something. Now, this may worry you, so I suggest you either find a place to sit or brace yourself for what's about to come."
"Don't worry, Ms. Tochiname. I can handle whatever it is you have to say!" Orihime boasted, a fake smile on her face. Her manager raised a brow before sighing heavily and shifted her weight.
"The editor says that you just won't do," she said, and Orihime's smile wavered. "He says you're cute—bubbly, even—but that face of yours just isn't what Shoujo 100% is looking for. He says that if you can't improve your looks soon, you may be replaced."
"Replaced!?" Orihime gasped. "But I—I can't be replaced! This is all I really want!!"
"Then you might want to use a dumpster of makeup, otherwise you're out of the business." Her manager flipped her now ringing cell phone open and began talking sweetly, most likely to a boyfriend or child. Orihime glared at the horrible woman's back and kicked her door, hurting herself than the actual wall, and limped out of the studio and started the long walk home.
"Stupid manager…stupid manager…stupid manager!!" she chanted. "I'll get her one day! I will!" She shook her fist in the air, stopping once a serious chill ran down her spine and back up. She let her arm droop and looked to her right. There, across the street, was a small shop, a sign hanging loosely on the roof. Orihime looked down both sides of the oddly quiet street and took wide strides to the entrance, getting there quickly. The doorknob was cold and sharp on her fingers, instantly numbing them. She gasped and jerked away from the knob, the feeling returning to them. Orihime blinked and placed it back onto the knob, the numb feeling coming back. Ignoring the climate change, she twisted the knob, expecting it to be locked. The door swung in, the bell overhead chiming into the dark store. Orihime waltzed in, looking around. The shelves were mostly empty, not a thing on them. She allowed the door to slam behind her as she ventured further into the store.
"H-Hello?" she called, cupping her hands around her mouth.
"Welcome to the Hollow Hole Pawn Shop," a sneaky voice greeted, making Orihime squeak and whip around, "where the name of your Hollow decides your fate." A girl around her age was sitting on top of the store's counter, a black dress billowing from beneath her small bust and ribbons tied around her upper arm. The girl was smiling devilishly and her elongated nails pulled her lips apart ever so slightly.
"S-sorry, am I intruding?" Orihime asked in an unsure voice. The girl giggled.
"Not at all…" She jumped off the counter in a swift, lithe movement, the dress flowing around her and moving as gracefully as she did. The girl was in front of Orihime in seconds, and the young model didn't see her until they were inches apart. Orihime jumped back with a squeak. "You came here looking for something."
"I-I honestly don't know why I'm here," she admitted. The woman simply smiled and took Orihime's hand, kissing it.
"But I do," she whispered, her warm breath making Orihime's skin tingle. The girl ripped away from Orihime and walked quickly to one of the rows, calling down to someone named "Ichigo." An unintelligent response was barely heard, and the girl snapped at the worker, who quickly appeared in front of her, holding something small in his arms. Orihime spotted it and squeed with happiness.
What Orihime saw: a cute, green snake with darker green patches, black bead eyes, and a neon pink tongue sticking out from between its lips.
What the two workers saw: an ugly being wearing a skull-like mask to hide its hideous face and greasy, black hair hanging from its head. The top of its body was like a muscular male human's torso, and the lower half turned into a snake. Orihime couldn't hear the menacing growls that erupted from its chest.
"I take it that it's your Hollow?" the girl asked as Orihime snatched the doll from the male worker.
"It's adorable!" she cried, ignoring the estranged look the male worker was giving her. "I just have to have it! Oh, but my friend's birthday is coming up soon… I know, I'll buy it for her!"
"No!" the female cried, making both Orihime and Ichigo jump. "You musn't give it to them! If you do, they will be able to…!" She covered her mouth, breathing deeply through her nose to compose herself, and removed her hand, smiling at her. "I'm sorry. But that doll is specifically for you. You can't give it to anyone else." The smile screamed fake.
"Oh…" Orihime tried to smile but the expression came out as more of a grimace. She looked down at its adorable face—the face she saw—and giggled. Of course she wanted it. What was she thinking, giving it away? She could just give her friend some money to buy herself something.
"I'll take it!" she said, a grin spreading on her face. The boy reached out for her as she followed the woman to the counter. As Orihime dug into her purse, the woman shot him a glare. He jumped back.
"Um, how much money will it cost?" Orihime asked. The woman began chuckling and held a delicate hand to her lips. Orihime blinked in confusion. "I'm sorry, I don't get what's funny…"
"You are!" the woman exclaimed, her laughing tone rising. "Ahh, I haven't laughed like that in years. No, you don't pay with money, dear girl…" The woman reached out, her eyes freezing Orihime in place, and took a lock of hair in her hands, her fingers curled in an intricate way. "You pay with something you hold dear…"
"S-Such as?" Orihime asked once she could speak.
"You, dear, will have to pay with your beauty…" The woman smirked. "But with that doll of yours, you might have to pay with much, much more." Orihime gasped lightly, and the woman pulled back, pulling a candy dispenser from the front of her dress and popping a candy into her mouth. She smiled lazily.
"But, hey, do whatever you want. I'm excited to see what kind of pictures you print out." The woman waved Orihime off. The teen girl stared in surprise at the woman's sudden change, but gripped the doll to her large chest and backed away a few feet before turning around and walking quickly out of the shop. The boy watched her leave, feeling a slight sense of jealousy.
"Hey, Rukia?" he asked. The girl began humming and looked at him with half-lidded eyes. A small "hm?" popped out from her throat in a sing-song tone. She began twirling and dancing, the skirt of her dress fluttering up to reveal pale, skinny legs and lithe feet tip-toeing across the wooden floor. "When you said that she'd have to pay with her beauty and…and more… What did you mean by that?"
Rukia smiled up at him, her eyes dancing with a light that made him stop in place, and she danced over to him, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. Something, and Ichigo didn't know what that something was, made him wrap his arms around Rukia's waist and dip her. That same smile remained on her face as she looked up at his surprised expression. She removed her left hand from the back of his neck, more pressure applying to Ichigo's hands, and stroked his face gently, almost lovingly.
"Oh, you'll see soon, Ichigo," she breathed, "very soon…"
Author's Note: …Yep, I like this chapter two better than the last one. And it has more of an IchiRuki feel to it. X3 Review if you feel like!