sorry for such a late update. my excuse: tests (i know, it's lame.) i apologize for any confusion caused by marking this fic as Ichigo and Orihime. it's just that the story is mostly centered around them, even though i'm not going to make them a couple.
Orihime cradled her head in her arms, her hair catching the fading kiss of the sun and briefly turning the brilliant colour of flame.
Her eyes were clouded in disappointment.
Of course, she'd expected it to turn out this way. After all, her "sisters" and aunt had no intention to let her go. She should have known, should have seen it coming, but somewhere inside of her there had still been that faint spark of hope which refused to go out.
Now, even that spark was gone.
For all of those 7 miserable, waiting days Orihime had run back and forth, on errands and various odd jobs fuelled by the near feverish excitement of her step-sisters and aunt.
On the first day, Orihime had considered the prospect.
On the second, she had been nearly dying to ask.
On the third, she finally gathered up her courage and made an attempt. It had come out like this; "Um… Harribel oba-san?" "What?" her aunt had snapped irritably, displeased at being interrupted in her rapid flicking through a lace-choked mountain of dresses. "Could I please… I mean canIpleasegototheball..!"
"Well…" Harribel had mused, an unpleasant smile on her face. "Maybe I'll consider if. But only if you work your hardest for the rest of the week."
And from then on, Orihime had been filled with a floating, airy feeling of happiness.
Until now.
4 days.
96 hours.
5760 minutes had gone by in a rush of dreamy excitement.
And now.
Now, she was alone, sitting on the hard, cold stone steps her leading up to aunt's mansion. Abandoned again.
Orihime finally stood. Dusting off the back of her plain and patched servant's apparel, she turned and prepared to return to the house to await the unwelcome homecoming of her adopted siblings and aunt.
Orihime shivered, at the sudden, slight hint of frost in the air. Hugging her arms around herself, Orihime skipped up the stairs and as her hand began to reach for the doorknob, she stumbled against the doorframe as a deafening rumble suddenly ripped through the space.
Whirling around, the girl gazed in shock as an oddly distorted carriage, painted bone white drew up to the mansion in a tortured squeal of rusted spokes and stamping hooves.
Orihime's eyes widened in an inexplicable fear.
She stood stock-still, like a rabbit caught in headlights unable to move as the door of the carriage slid open.
Out stepped a tall man, his skin pale enough to be an albino's but for his ebony hair and emerald eyes. A strange mark ran from the bottom of each of his eyes, an inky line that looked as though it was tracing tears.
The man had a placid expression, no emotion was to be seen whatsoever in his features or eyes. It was as if he was a human carved from marble.
Orihime's mouth was slightly open in surprise as the white-robed man stepped towards her.
Her ability to speak kicked in at the last moment.
"Wh-who are you..?" Orihime stuttered, still slightly frozen in shock. "Wh-what are you d-doing here..? D-do you have some business with my aunt?"
"No." The man answered. His voice was just as toneless as he looked. "My business is with you."
"M-me?" Orihime squeaked.
"Yes, you. My name is Ulquiorra Schifer.
Aizen-sama has ordered me to bring you to the engagement ball at Eventine." The man calmly intoned.
At this, a sliver of fear wormed its way into the girls voice as she hesitantly asked "W-why? Who is 'Aizen-sama'?"
"Aizen-sama is my master and King," the man— no, Ulquiorra replied.
"According to his wishes, you are to seduce the heir of Eventine. Cause him to fall in love with you. In the end, take his life."
"You— you..! You are asking me to assassinate the 'Kurosaki Ichigo-sama'? I can't! I'll be killed!" Orihime cried aloud, her eyes desperately scanning her surroundings with the intention to flee clear in every movement.
"I would not advise that you refuse Aizen-sama's order." Ulquiorra said.
"Aizen-sama ordered that if you were to refuse, I am to hunt down your every acquaintance. Am I correct to assume that you know a certain man called 'Ishida'?"
"How do you know about Ishida-kun?" the girl spluttered.
"Ishida Uryuu. Childhood friend. You have known him ever since you moved to the Capital." The man recited in a monotone voice.
"It is in your best interests to cooperate with us. If not, I will eliminate this 'Ishida Uryuu' without fail. It is your choice."
"B-but..!" Orihime quavered.
"What is your reply? Answer now." Ulquiorra commanded.
The seconds dragged by, agonizingly slow. Outwardly, the girl appeared to be wrenched in indecision.
However, within her mind the answer was already clear. She could not lose Ishida-kun too.
During times of her grief, he had been her only support.
Ally and friend.
She couldn't— no! She would not let him be killed! Even if it meant ending the life of another.
Finally, she spoke."I accept."
As the sound of her own words, spoken from her lips echoed through her mind, Orihime inwardly cringed in shame.
Some part of herself could not believe that she had agreed to so horrendous an offer.
In a slight effort to alleviate her guilt, Orihime thought to herself I couldn't have done anything else. It was the only choice I could have made.
It didn't work. The thought only served to heighten her sense of betrayal.
"Get into the house, woman." Ulquiorra spoke, handing her a package wrapped in white that he had seemingly produced from no-where.
"Correct your appearance in 20 minutes. We leave at 7:20."
Orihime had not replied, simply taking the surprisingly heavy parcel from him and stepping into the house.
30 minutes and 15 seconds later, Ulquiorra finally pronou
nced her to be satisfactory.
Glancing down at herself, Orihime had to admit that she looked good.
The paper-white dress she had on clung tightly to her slim figure. The sleeves of the dress puffed up at the shoulder, slimming down and then belling out at her forearms. The silky white material was cut into a wide collar, and at her throat was a single red jewel, glittering like a drop of blood against a sea of white.
Her dress swept down elegantly, white slippers peeking out beneath. Ribbons of silk and bows of chiffon wound round the skirt of the dress.
The last piece.
A snow-feathered mask, handed to her by the stoic, green-eyed man.
All of it was in white.
She was beautiful.
And she detested it.
So much white. Her eyes ached for want of colour.
As she tied the ribbon of the mask around the back of her head, tucking her hair in place, it was as though she was sealing her own fate with this simple gesture.
Orihime felt like a china doll, dressed up prettily in flowers and silks, put up on display.
But this doll was different.
It had a purpose, for it was not only a doll, but also a marionette.
A puppet on strings, forced to dance as another pleased. Dance to the rhythm of a song not her own.
Ulquiorra gestured at the white carriage for her to get in.
Slowly, solemnly, the girl climbed up the alabaster steps and lowered herself onto the seat within the carriage.
It was all in white, nothing short of what Orihime had expected.
She turns her head, sweeps aside the clinging white curtain and looks softly, sadly out of the frosted panes of glass.
Her eyes seem to reflect the hooded twilight, ethereal shades of soft ash grey.
There is sorrow in her eyes. Guilt in her heart.
Yet as the carriage begins to move, she says not a word, utterly still.
There had been a choice.
She had chosen.
Now all that remained was to continue along the path of her decision.
She could no longer turn back now.
On to the unknown, or death she would go.
i hope this chapter wasn't too unexciting. i promise it'll get better! my updates might be infrequent, though. sorry about that :)