Title: Courting Darkness
Well, I'm not sure what to say... I guess I won't be dropping this, after all. Or at least, not if I don't want to be hunted down and killed in my sleep.
Hmm….Thought provoking.
But in all dead seriousness, Thanks guys! I most definitely wouldn't be getting done so soon without all the wonderful support I've been getting. In fact, I was supposed to updating Tainting, but I guess I'm just a sucker for trying to please people.
Yes, I am that lame.
Chapter Three
Orihime's eyelids felt heavy. She had scooted as far away from the man Hichigo as the interior of the carriage would allow, determined to maintain constant vigilance.
No matter what he said, she was sure she was being taken to her death and had decided to jump from their vehicle. They were traveling at an ungodly pace, and she was sure to injure herself, but she couldn't just go willingly. She had read enough books to know what happened in a villain's lair. They would take her and torture her with all sorts of frightening devices. Cages with spikes that impaled you when closed, or being torn apart by wild horses, or they might drip water between her eyes like the Chinese, until she went mad.
If Ichimaru were to torture and question her, she didn't trust herself to stand up to it. Her only option was to escape, but just as she had prepared herself to fling open the door, her orange haired captor grabbed her wrist and pushed her back down.
She gasped and he gave her an irritated look.
"Stupid girl… You'd break your neck."
That had been her last opportunity, because from then on out, he kept a firm hold on her wrist.
And now, she was having a terrible time holding her eyes open. The journey was a long one, with a warm body beside her and the exhaustion of constant fear as company. She fought to stay awake. Then she realized that they were circling back, just as she had been taught to do and her eyes closed as she contemplated the irony of them knowing the same tricks.
As the dark of sleepiness closed in on her, the hooves of the horses and the clatter of the road fell away. It was replaced by a haunting melody from a flute and samisen, played by women in white paint.
Orihime wound between the sakura trees in her aunt's garden, watching their blooms tumble and dance on the wind.
The spring festival turnout was better than expected, lords and ladies milled around in their fine clothing, eager to show off their wealth. When she walked by, they did not acknowledge her more than was necessary, but she had long since grown accustomed to this, and pretended not to notice. Instead, she headed towards the outskirts, where the trees were thickest. She held her breath as petals circled and pirouetted under the canopy of branches, like light reflecting off crystal chandeliers.
Drifting away from the crowds to walk alone, Orihime spun around when a light hand fell on her shoulder. She recognized the man immediately. Aunt Matsumoto had once seen him favor her with a smile, and had taken care to always invite him after that.
Her parent's scandalous lifestyle had marked Orihime as untouchable, and although she was still quite young, it was unlikely she would be able to attract an advantageous marriage offer. Still, her aunt was less than subtle with her matchmaking, and Orihime always felt an odd mix of gratefulness and embarrassment upon seeing him.
She blinked up at the man when he offered her his hand.
Surely, he knew that it was inappropriate, but hidden amid a blizzard of snowy white petals Orihime could no longer make out the delicate figures of the nobility. Smiling a conspirator's smile, she took the offer and allowed him to pull her into a dance.
He twirled her around to the music and she found herself hypnotized by amused brown eyes. From some corner of the garden, she could hear her aunt's golden laughter. The woman was said to be more beautiful than even the fairest geisha. When she laughed, heads turned, men stared, women bristled.
She thought they must be very far away now.
More petals fell, obscuring her view, making it difficult to see more than a few feet.
The whirling was making her dizzy, and all she could see was the face of the smiling man in front of her. Soon that disappeared as well. Flowers blew against her face, scraping like fingernails. They cascaded in waist high drifts around her and she was drowning, lost in a sea of white. She could feel the warmth of blood flowing down her cheeks like tears.
Orihime jerked awake.
They had stopped.
With her head fuzzy from the feelings of suffocation in her dream, she struggled to pull herself free from the sticky web of confusion.
Hichigo had climbed out of the cab and stood looking at her with an outstretched hand. She blinked at him, too muddled and disoriented to do anything else. He sighed and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her out before dropping her unceremoniously on her feet and shoving her ahead.
Orihime glanced around at the dim, grey courtyard of some great, deserted house. Seeing expensive timber and the curved roof, she hesitated. This was clearly the residence of someone of influence and wealth, but certainly not the one she had been expecting. That person's house, although large, did not have intricately carved pillars or a magnificent central enclosure.
"Go on."
She turned on him. "You… you broke into this house."
Hichigo merely raised an eyebrow at her, before pushing her forward again.
Traveling through a series of halls and chambers, she looked around with wide eyes, not sure what she had been expecting. When she came around a corner, a large man stepped out and scared her so badly, she tumbled back into Hichigo.
He ignored her, speaking to the newcomer instead. "Chad. Is everything ready?"
"Yes, sir. Please follow me."
Orihime was half escorted, half shoved after their host. This new man was a surprise to her. He was tall, with a prominent set to his shoulders, and had a mane of brown hair that fell thickly over his face. She had spent her life in places like this, and there was only one individual that could carry themselves in such a certain and assured manner. This Chad person was the butler and Hichigo had bribed him.
She frowned, forgetting for a moment how much danger she was in. Why would he take her to a place like this? It couldn't be to murder her, he wouldn't need a butler for that, at least she didn't think. She wasn't an expert on murder, but in her personal experience witnesses seemed to be undesirable.
The further they went the more confused she became. They finally drew to a stop outside of a large and intricate screen door.
"I prepared everything you asked for."
"Thanks, Chad."
Orihime turned to stare at him. In the short time that she had known him, she had never heard him speak so politely and without concealed motive. When he pushed her through the door, she realized that his civility was limited only to the butler.
"Bathe and change." He snapped. "I hope you can do it yourself, there aren't any maids around here. And don't take too long or I'll come get you…"
He let the sentence hang and she realized his hidden threat.
Sliding the door shut in her face, she heard him turn a lock. Orihime gaped at the place where he had been.
Then all at once she burst into motion. She ran to the window, only to see very solid wooden bars across it. Frowning, she ran into the adjoining room and checked the one there as well. Also barred.
Orihime sank to the floor and pounded her clenched fist down in frustration. After working through her new found fear and disheartenment, she looked around and was once again surprised. Not only was the room free of dust, but it looked as if some great lady was in residence. It even boasted large modern furniture, complete with gilt edgings and upholstery.
She rose and walked over to a folding screen, where a set of kimonos lay in heavy silk and bright colors. Reaching out, she fingered an intricately stitched flower and gasped when it shone a faint gold. Even her most expensive clothes were nowhere near this fine.
Taking a step back, she looked to her left to see another lit room. Inside was a private bath, already prepared. Steam rose from the water and a basket of soaps and perfumes sat on the edge. She glanced between the bath and the clothes that she had found.
Her gaze drifted back to the water. She felt filthy and she hadn't had a real bath and such a long time. Not to mention her arms and legs were sore from running and struggling with that Hichigo.
Orihime paused.
What if he came in while she was bathing? Orihime looked at the door as if she expected him to come walking through it at that very moment. She frowned and turned back to the bath. Well, if she was going to die, then she was going to die clean.
The bath felt as good as it looked and although she would have liked to stay in it longer, she hurried to get finished with Hichigo's threats still fresh on her mind. As she soaped and rinsed, her mind drifted from thoughts of death and murder. When the bath water became cold, she shook herself, realizing that she had let her mind drift too far and hadn't been fast like she intended. She washed her hair and left the bath.
The cool silk of the lavish clothes glided against her freshly washed skin, sending delightful shivers down her spine. She vowed to herself that if she lived, she would find the owner and repay them.
Running a comb through her hair, she looked at her reflection. Not having maids wasn't a problem, she had often made due on her own, when living with her parents. Orihime was quite skilled at doing her own hair even, a fact that had been highly praised by her brother. Twisting her hair into a simple yet elaborate looking coiffure, she secured it with her pins, before turning to her old clothes.
She removed a small book from the lining of her traveling cloak and ran her fingers over it before hiding it in the folds of her clothing. The book was her most precious of possessions and had once belonged to her brother. It was quite valuable and she had taken it from her father's library after her brother had passed on. Maybe she had no right to take it, but she thought that he would have wanted her to have it. It was a small manuscript of sutras, easily over a hundred years old and hand written. The cover was set with precious stone.
Her brother had discovered it ten years ago in his studies, and had shown it to her often. Those were some of her happiest memories. Her brother teaching her beyond the basic home skills and etiquette women were required to learn. She dreamed of someday going further in her education, maybe even to a university. Orihime had heard of other women attending, but anytime she had discussed it with her parents, they had become angry, insisting that such a large sum of money could be put to better use. And she would never dream of asking Aunt Masumoto for such an exorbitant amount.
As she finished tying herself into her clothing, there was a knock. Orihime jumped and brushed her hand over the book to make sure it wasn't visible. She thought about trying to run, but knew that such a gesture would be pointless. He would certainly be able to find her, even if there had been a place to hide.
The sound of his voice made her jump. "You might as well come out."
Clenching both fists at her sides, she walked out of the bathing room, her long sleeves trailing behind her.
Hichigo wasn't looking when she entered. He was fiddling with a traveling trunk. Orihime must have been too preoccupied to notice it before. When he rose and pocketed the key, she was stunned by his new appearance.
His hair was the same mass of orange locks, only still slightly damp from washing. He wore another suit, this one made of soft wool, in the deepest black. The stark white linen of his shirt contrasted perfectly, drawing attention up toward a tone neck and strong jaw. The details of the cut of his coat, the semi-fitted waist, the slight flare at the hem, the lapel slant well above the waistline, all spoke of some pretentious and horribly overpriced shop halfway across the world.
Most men of status in Japan clung to tradition, still wearing the formal attire, even as the masses moved toward a more practical western style. Her brother had also owned several suits, although none this nice. But this man wore it as if the style itself had been invented for him. It hugged his form where it ought and still pronounced well-muscled shoulders and legs.
Orihime swallowed and turned away to hide the heat creeping up her face.
She heard him turn and braved a glance from under her lashes. For a moment he didn't move, just let his eyes sweep over her before he seemed to come back to himself. Scowling, he cleared his throat.
"Right…" He said. "We're leaving. We've stayed too long in the city as it is. But before we go, I'm going to save myself a lot of trouble by explaining how it's going to be. You can ride with me, as long as you're quiet. Give me trouble, and you go in there." He kicked the trunk.
Had he known her intimately, he wouldn't have been able to pick a better punishment. Orihime paled at the thought of being shut in such a small, dark place. There would be no way to get out, and a box that small wouldn't have much room for air. She would suffocate slowly, beating and clawing at the sides to no avail.
She felt dizzy and her knees shook before giving out completely. Then there were hands on her and Orihime realized that Hichigo was cradling her over his legs. She blinked up at him, not able to make out what he was saying, then the world seemed to click back into place and she could hear him again.
"You don't look so good."
She tried to push herself up. "I-I'm fine."
In spite of her protests, he led her to a seat and pushed her into it. She wanted to lay her head down, but he was kneeling in front of her, and suddenly, she felt wide-awake as he subjected her to a thorough examination.
He raised his voice. "You can come in."
A door slid open to reveal the butler from earlier, carrying a tray of food on white china. Her stomach growled loudly at the smell. She rubbed it gently to quiet it, feeling embarrassed at Hichigo's quirked eyebrow. Chad sat the tray down and vanished without a word.
Not sure what to do and afraid that she might tear the food apart like some wild, starving animal, Orihime sat staring the contents of the tray down.
He gave her a gentle shove.
"Eat quick."
She didn't need to be told twice. She stuffed bites of food into her mouth, barely pausing to chew. A tea cup came into her view and she took it gratefully.
How could she be so hungry, when he might kill her at any moment?
Well, maybe not at any moment, because he was feeding her in the first place, but… soon.
She piled sugar by the heap into her cup and drank it eagerly. Her companion just shook his head and walked to the window, looking out over the grounds while she finished. She glanced at him and then back at her plate frowning. She had eaten everything, and she didn't even know if he had wanted any. That was quite rude.
"Do you want anymore?" He had come back to stand over her.
"No, thank you."
"Better?"
She nodded.
"Great, then what do you want? You riding with me or in that trunk?"
She glanced at the trunk and wrinkled her nose in distaste.
"What's it going to be, Inoue-sama?"
She frowned, wondering how he always made her title sound sarcastic without actually putting any emphasis on it. Then she stood, realizing he was coming at her, and quickly stuttered out her answer.
"I'll ride with you!"
She prepared to bolt as he stopped closer than she was comfortable with.
"Good choice. Just remember, though, it's coming with us."
He was close now, too close. She could smell his scent from his clothes.
She jumped when he took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. The polite gesture was disorienting, because it was something that she would have expected from a gentleman toward a lady in his care. He was escorting her out of the room as if they were a husband and wife going out to the theater.
All the way down the hallway, she could feel the warmth of his body, the hard arm underneath the delicate wool of his coat. Chad waited in the entry hall and handed his master a beautiful traveling cloak instead of the one she had left. He whirled it around her shoulders before she could say anything, without asking and she felt the soft brush of fur against her neck.
As she stepped outside behind him, Orihime saw a shining black carriage had replaced the one they had been in, and it was pulled by four matching horses. She had never seen anything like it. Men were loading the trunk onto it along with other items, but what caught her attention was the crest emblazoned on it. Surely, he couldn't just drive around in a stolen carriage with someone else's name on it, especially not one like this.
As she marveled at the audacity of it, he pushed her up into the ride.
To get an entire house of this magnitude under his command would require both great wealth and power. Orihime scooted to the far side of the carriage as she contemplated the implications of such a thing.
The killer must have devoted his entire resources to finding her. He apparently wanted her in good health, for who knew what purposes, and this orange haired deviant was just the kind of elegant yet ruthless villain to accomplish the job. She nodded to herself, certain she had at least figured out this much.
Orihime moved to press her back firmly to the wall of the cabin when Hichigo entered. As the horses began to wind their way off the estate, he reached for her. She yelped and sunk back throwing up her arms.
He growled. "Stop that."
She felt him grab her wrists. Despite using her full strength, he easily pried down her arms. Tilting her head to the side, she tried to wiggle away, but he merely hauled her back by the arms and leaned in close.
Gasping at his breath on her neck, she turned to face him, shocked. His gaze locked on hers, and she thought she saw something stirring in their depts.
His hand traveled very slowly up her arm, toward her shoulder. The feel of it hovering just over her skin, made Orihime shiver. He noticed and smiled. With his hand nearing her throat, she had to bite back a whimper. Then he reached past and tugged on her hood, pulling it up so that it covered her face.
While she sat gaping at him with her mouth open, he released her and leaned back against the leather, still smirking.
"And now, Lady Inoue…" He said, softly. "You're going to tell me what had you hiding in the slums."
Fear and nerves were making her jumpy, but never the less, she sat up straight. "I-I won't tell you."
If her answer annoyed him, he didn't let it show. Holding her gaze, he slowly pulled off his gloves, revealing long fingers with a strength she could still feel on her wrists. With deliberate menace, he used one of those hands to unfasten the top button of his shirt. Then the second was undone, then the third. And all the while, she remained trapped in his dark stare.
"I can wait. It's a long trip and I have plenty of time to think of a way to persuade you to talk." He slid his jacket off his shoulders, giving her a wicked smile. "Actually, I'll be surprised if before we're through, I don't have you babbling on about all sorts of things."
A/N
Shorter than I wanted, but if you guys review, I promise to make it longer next time… How's that for incentive?
Oh, and yes… Have no fear. For those of you asking, this is still an IchiHime fic! Or… it's kind of an IchiHichiHimeAi… sort of. You'll see.
