Title: Tainting the Roses Red
Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to none other than the fantastically brilliant Kubo Tite, who is absolutely killing me with anticipation for the next manga chapter…
Chapter two
Ichigo stalked down the city sidewalk, hands stuffed into the pockets of his black and red jacket. Yuzu needed eggs for dinner. Again.
He couldn't figure it out. Hadn't he just gotten eggs last night? So, why, less than twenty four hours later, was he freezing his butt off to make the same trip? If it turned out his stupid old man was making protein shakes again, he was going to kill the bastard.
A shudder worked its way down his spine.
The last time his dad had suggested that he 'man up', as he had so inconspicuously put it, Ichigo had awoken at an ungodly hour only to find a funnel lodged into his esophagus, right before his father dumped a quart of raw eggs down his throat, not to mention something that tasted suspiciously like grass.
After a few times of smashing the bastard's face into the hardwood, he had begun insisting that it was only wheatgrass, and therefore, a health food.
Ichigo scowled. Stupid old man…
A distant roar broke him out of his thoughts, echoing off the buildings, rattling glass, and at the same time making its origin hard to distinguish.
Damn it, Rukia.
She was supposed to be taking care of this shit tonight.
He looked around for a place to dump his body, peeking down a darkened alley. Yeah, that's just what he needed right now, for some sick freak to find him unconscious and steal his kidneys. He frowned, turning. Why was it that any time he actually needed that little stuffed pervert Kon, he was never around?
Another roar drew his attention back to the problem. He needed to find a place. Now.
A flashing sign across the street caught his attention and he arched an eyebrow…mattress sale, huh? That might work.
A couple minutes later, he ducked out of the furniture store and took off, wondering why the universe was such an unfair place, that even one night off seemed like too much to ask.
The ground below his feet quaked and shuttered.
Damn it, he was going to be late. There was no telling what kind of chaos it had managed to wreak by now.
Ichigo hit the corner and made a hard right, and there it was. Twice as big as a city bus, stomping around on four massive flat feet. A single huge horn protruded from the center of its ugly mask and a long tail full of menacing spikes decorated its hind end. It seemed to be vaguely animalistic and Ichigo thought that he might have recognized the form, but being that it was a hollow, the effect was lost.
It seemed mad, though, trampling around in a circle, stamping and pawing, trying to smash something below it on the ground.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to see through the dust and small chunks of rubble, when he felt his other self give a violent surge against the walls of his mind. It was so abrupt and unexpected that he stumbled, feeling the impact all the way down to his toes.
What the hell?
Under his skin, he could still feel it scratching, trying to get his attention.
Then he saw it.
Through a small break in the cloud of dust, a swirl of auburn hair and a flash of golden light. His gut clenched, even as his hand reached for Zangetsu.
Orihime felt that all things considered, she was doing pretty well. She was out-sized and out-matched, but still, she was alive, and in her book that counted for something.
The hollow pounded against her shield and even though her arms shook with the effort, it held firm. Of course in retrospect, Orihime was willing to admit that she had brought this on herself, because having Tzubaki attack like that had turned out to be a really awful idea, after all.
The hollow was much faster than it looked and the attack that should have pierced its face, arrived at the exact moment it had decided to spin around. Orihime had made a perfect bull's-eye, just not the one she had been hoping for.
In the end, she had only succeeded in earning herself one very pissed off Tzubaki and the hollow had earned itself a poke in the rear. And if the angry thrashing was any kind of hint, it had either been incredibly painful or incredibly demeaning.
Probably both, she thought, biting at her lip.
Orihime shielded herself in the most apologetic way she could muster. She couldn't blame it for being in such a terrible mood. If she had aimed correctly, it would have been on its way to Soul Society by now or wherever they went. She pouted as the hollow just seemed to be getting increasingly incensed. Tzubaki zoomed back and forth around its head, screaming obscenities randomly directed at both it and Orihime.
Breathing in the dust that was being thrown up by the hollow's feet, she barely managed to raise her shield in time through a fit of violent coughing. And that's when she saw it. Out of the corner of her eye. A viciously spiked tail coming at her sideways at an incredible speed. Her mind froze and all she could do was stare open-mouthed, waiting to be impaled on painful looking spikes.
Her eyes snapped shut, instinctively blocking out the sight of her own death.
She had read once that it was a survival mechanism, like how your body could sometimes block out the pain of a severe wound. She wished her body would do that now. Her last thought was that she must be hysterical to be thinking of such mundane things, while death loomed in front of her like the open mouth of a grave.
She felt disconnected as it slammed into her side, her breath hissing out of her lungs with the force of the impact. But even though it was forceful, it didn't hurt. The world spun and flipped in on its self in a way that made her terribly dizzy, before everything started to fall away.
She felt weightless; lighter than air. It was almost nice, she was all tingly, like energy was buzzing all around her. Then as quickly as it had begun, the weightless, flying sensation stopped and heavy warmth settled all over her.
She tried to bask in the glowing after effects of her death, but something else was noisily wiggling its way to the surface of her mind, clamoring for attention. And the harder it tried, the more she was certain that it was something important, but she was so comfortable now that she wasn't sure she even wanted to know. Instead she relaxed deeper, trying to concentrate on the heat that was washing over her in waves.
But her mind had long sense developed a will of its own, and it was quick to point out that the warmth only happened to be located on one side of her body, and the tingly electric feelings from earlier were radiating out from only a few strategic places.
Feeling a little betrayed, she decided to give in and find out what her mind was going on about. She cracked open one eye before blinking them both open and for a split second, Orihime's entire world consisted of brown eyes.
Through the silence of her heart stopping, she thought she could hear her mind laugh.
Mahogany eyes, with the smallest flecks of amber.
They regarded her with a gaze so focused that her first instinct was to shy away. Instead, she panned back to take in the perfect planes of his face, his tense brow, and the hard set of his mouth, before returning to his eyes.
It wouldn't have surprised Orihime at all if her version of heaven was made up entirely of Ichigo's eyes. No matter what he was feeling, she could always see it there.
She loved it when he laughed, because they went all soft and warm like honey. She loved it when he would read something he liked, because then they turned all deep and calm and introspective. She even loved it when they glittered like newly burnished copper, even though it meant he was going to make someone bleed.
But just now…they were scaring her a little.
She thought that she could make out a dark light behind the intense look of concern. It felt like something was looking out at her. She shook her head a bit to try to dislodge her thoughts and when she looked back, it was gone.
She wondered if he had been aware of it in the first place.
Then the moment broke, and he asked her if she was alright before depositing her on her own feet at her insistent nod.
"I thought I was dead." She said, before she could think better about it.
He closed his eyes, making a small noise in the back of his throat. She watched the wind ruffle his hair and whip the black and white heavy silk of his Shihakushou around his lean frame.
She swallowed, noticing that her mouth had gone dry.
A/N Hey, look at that…another chapter.
Thanks so much for reading!
Child of the Ashes