First, I'd like to thank the reviewers, and all the readers who silently passed through this story. The emails made my day, and also pressured me to work on the next chapter (which, I admit, wasn't fast enough). So thank you for both the encouragement and the pressure! You guys rock!
Second, this is probably the last chapter I'll submit without using a Beta Reader. Hopefully, the next will have less errors (though I've combed through this chapter many times, but I know there's are tiny ones, as always). So any volunteers will be a welcome. =)
Again, I'd like to stress how much you reviewers rock. On with the story!
Disclaimer: Bleach is not owned by me.
Chapter 3
The Punishment: II
Next morning found Miho at the threshold of Urahara Shoten, eyes downcast and wishing the ground would suck her in completely.
"Ah! If it isn't our delinquent from yesterday!" The airy comment was a stab at her dignity. She almost flinched.
Urahara Kisuke, owner of the Urahara Shoten, eyed her with amusement. He was a shady man—literally. The fan in his hand covered most of his face, and his eyes were shaded by the striped fishing hat. It was impossible to guess what was on his mind. Already he seemed to be summing up something about her with his eyes, formulas only he knew. It made her uncomfortable.
He closed his fan with a snap, revealing a smile that reminded Miho of the Cheshire cat in the story Alice in Wonderland.
"Well, come in, come in!" And he retreated into the shop. Miho took a deep breath, and exhaled it before following him inside. It was different from other convenient stores she's been to. Instead of the usual ground level, the store had an elevated step—a veranda—that displayed the racks of products. Three figures also stood near by.
"Ah, let's start the introductions shall we? You already know Ururu and Jinta, of course."
Miho nodded at the two children, and an attempted smile faltered when the only response was a deep scowl on the boy's face, and the same eerily expressionless face on the girl.
"And that is Tessai. He's the one who caught you in the act," he informed her, practically enjoying the waves of discomfort and unease that shot through her. "Everyone! This is…"
Suddenly, he leaned towards her, invading her personal bubble, and taking her completely by surprise. She had to bend slightly backwards. "Your name?"
His fan almost touched her nose. That was how close he was. Miho suspected that he was smirking behind it. "Um, Noboru Miho."
Just as abruptly, he straightened up, taking away the invading aura that was stifling her. He spread his arms and announced, as if to a circus audience: "Mi-chan!"
"No, it's-"
"Please take care of her during the three months of her punishment."
"Three months?!" She spluttered. That's not what her mother told her. Now that she thought about it, her mother hadn't specified how long this punishment was supposed to last. Urahara fixed her with a keen look, and slowly bent down to her level, making her take a few steps backward until her back bumped into one of racks.
"You know Mi-chan, the damage that was done yesterday is not a light one." With his fan, he pointed at the broken window, and then at the corner of the veranda. There was a hole, the size of the very baseball that caused it; the edge of the wooden circle was burnt crisp, and there were flecks of soot and white paint sprayed around.
She turned her eyes elsewhere, feeling ashamed of just standing there. The hole was still burning her eyes. Somewhere inside her, a ball of anger mingled with guilt, but she pushed it down.
"I'm sorry," she managed softly.
For a moment no one said a word, and she wondered if her apology was accepted.
"Well, it can't be helped now. We still have to employ you Mi-chan." He might as well twist a few of her fingers.
Tessai cleared his throat. "Boss, why not have her take care of that room."
The emphasis made Miho shudder.
"Yeees~, that room," Urahara echoed in consideration.
She glanced nervously from one man to the other. She wondered if she should ask, but thought better of it. There was a long, agonizing pause, before Urahara twirled around to lead the way further into the store. Without waiting for a gesture, Miho followed, with Tessai behind her. The two kids were left behind, still motionless and scowling.
They passed a couple of sliding doors, and Miho wondered at the extra rooms. Why would a convenient store need this many rooms? She also noticed that hallways were narrow, with a lot of turns; surprisingly too many. The exterior appearance of the store gave it the impression of being small. It certainly wouldn't have this much space inside. The hallways are narrow, Miho explained to herself. That's why. But still, something didn't quite feel right.
No one said a word to her as they walked, and the silence filled her insides with dread. So she was startled when Urahara spoke at last. "Here we are." He came to a stop in front of a room; the first room with an actual door on hinges. "Now, we don't usually allow people in here because of the fragility of the products, but we've been…" Urahara lingered for a moment, "busy." Miho guessed that she's been given the summarized version.
The entrance was so narrow that only one person could enter at a time. Urahara swung the door open, and there was a sudden swirl of dust and chilling air. The first thing Miho noticed as her eyes got used to the weak, flickering florescent lights, was that the room was cramped with towering boxes, and some strewn every other way. There wasn't a lot of space to move around, and a thick sheet of dirt and dust settled on the boxes. Miho spotted a spider crawling away at the corner of the room. Her mother might have passed out at the sight of this mess.
"Your task is fairly simple," Urahara continued. "Just clean up, and separate the boxes."
Miho eyed the dust-encrusted boxes with disgust.
"You'll find that there are boxes marked with an 'x'. Those I'd like you to put in one corner of the room. The ones that aren't marked, on another corner, and the empty boxes thrown out," Urahara explained. Then, with another abrupt bow to meet her eye that startled her, he asked, "Are you a curious person, Mi-chan?"
"Um," she tried to recover from her shock, but found herself still unnerved that she couldn't maintain eye-contact with the man. Damn that hat of his!
"I don't think so."
"Good!" Miho expected him to back off, but he was still looking at her. She also realized that his tone wasn't its usual high-perkiness. "Because, Mi-chan, it would be really problematic if any of these boxes were opened." His tone was grave, almost cold, a trait Miho thought this man was incapable of. In fact, his whole body seemed to emit that cold attitude; from his rigid crouching, not moving a single muscle, as if holding Miho under a spell. Even his eyes were glowing slightly under the shade of his hat, a dangerously cool color. "You understand me?"
Miho did not understand, but she nodded vigorously. It was only when he straightened up at last that she was aware of her heart beating at a rapid pace, and that her hands, which she unconsciously clenched into a fist, felt clammy with cold sweat. A numb thought processed in her mind: This man was dangerous.
"Good!" He said this in his cheerful manner again. "I'll leave you to your task then."
Before she knew it, she was shoved into the room, along with a bucket of water, a mop, a ragged cloth and a broom. The door swung shut before she could see who passed her the items, and she was alone at last in the filth filled room. Miho glanced around the room, sighed, and set to work.
She was squeamish at first; the amount of dust in the room was unbelievable. She wondered how long it was left in this state. She also wondered if the two kids were related to Urahara somehow. But one thought prevailed all else. Why did the owner just threaten her.
Miho was sure that was his objective. Was it to hide his identity? As a drug-dealer? It seemed unlikely, but it definitely explained why he looks high most of the time. So what was so important in these boxes and packages?
When it came to the boxes, Miho was afraid to touch them. She prodded them with the tip of the broom to check if it was sealed with its products (she always tensed when it was), or empty.
She handled the sealed boxes with great care, mostly out of fear. What would he do to her if she messed up? He was tall. He seemed strong. She didn't want to dwell on it, but he was also handsome. He seemed younger than her father, but she wasn't sure. He seemed to have a genial side for show, and if it weren't for that, she wouldn't know if she could bear it. Still, she needs a strategy to keep from getting into trouble with the bunch.
Easy, be distant, detached and follow the instructions.
Satisfied with that, she felt her mood lifting. She began humming as she worked. Already the sorting of the empty boxes presented more space in the room. Two columns of boxed products were neatly stacked, and one empty corner for the rest. Then, there's the cleaning bit, she thought, but dismissed it for when her current task was over. She heaved a box off the ground; this one was particularly heavy. Carefully, she moved to place it in its corner.
Suddenly, a loud bang echoed in the small room. Miho was startled, and her reflexes were to drop the load she had, and turn around.
But survival instincts kicked in. There was no other way to explain how her fingers remembered to clutched the box. Her arms tightened around it in an effort to balance it in her arms. It was still heavy though, and the defenses brought Miho down, hard on her knees. And that's how she remained, panting. Slowly, she angled herself to the door.
Nothing was amiss. No one was there, and the door was still shut. Aside from her distracted humming, it was relatively quiet when Miho was working. It still was. Miho steadied her breath, and strained to hear any sound from outside.
Nothing.
She waited a few minutes more, then shrugged, and carefully got up to resume her work. It was when she started mopping the floor that she noticed the change of temperature. Goosebumps ran along her arms, and she stopped to rub some warmth into her arms. She was about to mop again, but froze as something caught her attention.
At first, Miho thought she was imagining it. But after a while, she saw it again- the faint breath that misted when she exhaled. Faint, but there. Immediately, she dropped the mop, and strode over to the only exit. The door wouldn't budge open, no matter how much she twisted the handle. She drove her shoulder in it, but that proved to be painful.
Miho stepped back, took a deep breath. It unnerved her that what she exhaled was becoming clearer. And it was getting colder. She rapped on the door with a closed fist. "Hey! Could anyone open this door?"
There was no reply.
"I think I'm trapped in here!" Was this room so sound proof, that no one heard her yelling?
She put her ear to the door. Nothing but dreadful silence.
And it was silence that let chaos take over her mind, along with her fists.
**
Two and a half hours later found Miho bundled up in blankets, staring at a steaming cup of tea on the table. The owner sat across from her, and she thought she saw a look of amusement. But he was staring at her, and she didn't want to meet his gaze.
At length, he broke the silence. "Are you feeling better Mi-chan?"
Part of her wanted to believe that she couldn't respond to him because of that stupid nickname, but the pathetic truth was that she was still shivering convulsively. She reached for her cup, holding it carefully with her shaking, swollen hands. She could hardly feel the pain in her knuckles.
"I'm fine," she said. She sipped the tea, and winced. "This tea—"
"You need to warm up Mi-chan," said Urahara gently.
She wished he wouldn't stare at her so intently.
They were in a small room, and in the corner of it sat the two children. It was Ururu who found her, and dragged her out. Miho couldn't think it at the time, but it was the first frantic action she'd ever seen in the girl. Through the whirlwind of blankets and tea, she heard snippets of conversation. How she was trapped in the storage. How someone else turned the cooler on while she was in there.
The door slid open, and Tessai quietly walked in, placed a plate of biscuits before seating himself beside Urahara. Miho eyed the biscuits, noting its green hue, and as much as she wanted to wash away the bitterness in her mouth, decided not to touch them.
There were some minutes of silence before Urahara lowered his fan. The bland look on his face guarded his thoughts well. Miho felt another shiver strike through her body.
"Mi-chan, do you remember who locked you in?" he asked. She could sense the gravity back in his voice, pressing against her. It was the man who meant serious business.
She shivered uncontrollably. She sipped her tea, and the warm liquid felt heavenly this time round. "No," she said hoarsely. "I didn't see anyone." Which was true. Her initial theory was that the door was jammed. But the serious look on Urahara's face as he mulled over her answer told her otherwise.
A scoff sounded at the corner of the room. "So the new girl locked herself in. Big deal!"
"Jinta…" Ururu murmured, but the boy was already walking towards the door. "If she's going to cause this much trouble, she should just go home."
No one stopped him as he flung the door open and stepped out. And just as he slid it shut with a force that made it rattle, Miho thought of two things; first, she was sorry for Jinta. Second, she wondered how the culprit could be so stupid. Because the narrowing look on Urahara's face promised bad, bad consequences.
She shuddered again.
As usual, criticism and reviews are a welcoming joy.
