Note: Sorry for the delay. I was a little busy with some studying. Hopefully the next updates won't take as long.

Disclaimer: All characters are not mine.

Night Flowers

Chapter 3:

"That was definitely... memorable."

Ichigo looked at Mizuiro, but he couldn't think of anything to say. "Way too flashy, in fact," Mizuiro waved a finger at him, "Everyone will be talking about it for some time, at least, until someone is bought for higher."

Ichigo blushed – he was going to be the talk of the city for simply buying a slave like this? Especially this kind of slave, he could only imagine what lascivious gossip was going to go around.

"Look, I don't want to talk about it." Ichigo retorted.

"Like it or not, they will. You managed to upstage even the Kuchiki clan, who just happens to be the wealthiest land owners this side of the Nile. We share two borders of our land with theirs, and they could easily surround ours."

Ichigo tried to think about the implications that Mizuiro was hinting at, but it annoyed him, and Ichigo wasn't the type to think about annoying things for too long. Instead, he waved dismissively, and stole a furtive glance at the quiet girl at the end of the leash. She looked at him readily, with a carefully blank expression. Something about that gaze unnerved him.

"I-" he lowered the pitch of his voice, "Inoue, do you mind if I call you that?"

"You may call me anything you want, master." She smiled at him, but it only made him feel dismayed. Idiot, he chided himself. Was he expecting to see the sunny little girl he had played with in the dust years ago? This wasn't exactly what he had planned but...

"You don't have to call me mas-"

"There he is!" A shout rang in the distance where the torches signaled the entrance to the Kurosaki household. Ichigo groaned as he recognized Keigo and several of the servants jogging down the lane to meet their party.

"Oi, we heard you got yourself a beauty!" An excited Shuuhei gasped as he slowed down before them.

"What? How did you guys hear-"

"We gotta see! I bet 10 deben that she's got big-"

"SHUT UP!" Ichigo stood in front of Orihime to shield her from their view. "Aren't you all supposed to be in your quarters now? This isn't a free show, and we're all tired. So if you want to see her you'll have to do so tomorrow!"

Keigo tried to get a better view by going on tiptoe. Chad stepped forward. Keigo whined, "Awww, but we just wanna-"

"No! Everyone back to their quarters!" Ichigo ordered, even from a distance he could see that they had lit a couple of bonfires and were gambling in front of the main house while waiting. "Clean that up! Where's Tatsuki?"

More people were striding from the house to greet him. "Now Ichigo, it was all just in good fun, no need to get angry." Isshin walked towards him leisurely, accompanied by a widely smiling Urahara.

Ichigo's eyes narrowed, "It was you, wasn't it?"

"I just happened to drop by with some good news for my old friend here," Urahara chuckled. Ichigo never liked the way that man had eyed him since he was a child. "Things were already pretty festive here before I came."

"So you say," Ichigo glowered. As the men cleared out of the front entrance, he spied his sisters and Tatsuki bringing up the rear. Ichigo quickly waved her over and indicated Orihime, who had been standing behind him with her eyes downcast the entire time.

"Well, he wouldn't tell me certain details, but I think we've got some things to discuss," Isshin motioned for him to follow him into the house. Ichigo handed the leash to Tatsuki, mumbling an order to clean off the paint. His sisters nudged each other in the ribs and whispered, "Ichi-nii, she's beautiful. How did you find her?"

"Later," Ichigo mouthed, as he followed his father into the trading hall.

Isshin inspected the new slave's deed of ownership. "Hmmm. Sixty kit of gold." Isshin had been about to scratch his beard, but stopped midway. "That's ridiculous. I didn't even give you that much."

"I had to trade in some land as well, but I had to win," Ichigo glared at a point left of Isshin's shoulder. "Doesn't she look familiar to you? She's the apothecary's sister!"

Isshin frowned, taken aback by some distant memory before recovering. "Well - I know you get very passionate about saving people, but you'll have to account for why she costs that much."

Ichigo reddened, "Kuchiki bid 50 for her."

"Oh?"

Ichigo fidgeted, and Mizuiro stepped forward, "She's fully-trained as bedroom slave and entertainment, verified of young age and virginity. Acquiring her was very troublesome indeed."

Isshin glanced at the document, then back at Ichigo, "A fine luxury. Probably fit for the pharaoh. Well, I did hand you the gold to spend for the day of your naming, and the land is part of your inheritance, so-" he rolled up the parchment and handed it to Ichigo.

Ichigo accepted it, and bowed slightly, "Where should I assign her then?"

"Tomorrow, you'll round up all the slaves that I have deemed as part of your inheritance and I'll have you personally in charge of them from now on. So what happens to her is not mine to decide."

"But I bought her with your purse and –"

"It was a gift, remember? She doesn't belong to me. She belongs to you."

"To the family's –," Ichigo insisted.

"No," Isshin smiled, his eyes cryptic, "to you."

Urahara fanned himself while watching the heir walk away. "He's awfully young to be given decisions like this."

Isshin shrugged, "Frankly, I'd like to see what he'd do given full jurisdiction over a handful of slaves."

"What a cruel father you are. At most, you're risking lives here."

"I'm pretty sure I raised him as well as I could."

"But would the witch be proud of him as well?"

"At least call her Masaki, no matter what enmity you two had with each other – and she wasn't like that."

"That the boy inherited her golden locks instead of yours still gives me room for doubt that you had completely dissuaded her of her designs."

"Is that what that old 'breeding theory' of yours tell you? Isn't the embalmer also studying the same idea?"

Urahara chuckled, "Yes. And what a puzzle it would be for him if he's going to include your lineage – I'd say he just set himself back a couple of decades. Anomalies messing up the samples, how wonderful." He bid farewell as he moved to the exit, already preoccupied with his amusement.

Isshin looked askance at his departing friend. It was times like this when he remembered there was an aspect of madness mixed in with that genius.

Ichigo walked out of the hall deep in thought. He hadn't thought that his father would give him this much control of his portion of the land this soon, not to mention all the slaves that Ichigo had acquired over the years – about half a dozen from his own pockets, starting with Chad. If he was going to be in complete charge of his portion now, there would be so much to do, such as checking the crops, storage space rotation, new assignments, measuring floodplains and water level. Ichigo fought a moment of panic – he was more used to taking orders than giving them.

By habit, he fell into pacing around the compound and checking that all was in place before heading to his bedroom.

Ichigo pushed open the door to his bedroom and strode in. In the half-gloom of a lit oil lamp, he spied that the head rest he kept on the stool was missing. Puzzled, he turned to face the bed, and froze.

There, seated with her legs folded underneath her and head bowed in submission while waiting, sat Orihime. Not just Orihime normally, as Ichigo's eyes widened and his throat suddenly seemed to dry – but all of her naked, gleaming skin displayed for his gaze to feast on. From his vantage point, her eyes were hidden by shadow, but her hair piled demurely across her shoulders, only sliding away to reveal the full curves of her breasts, delicate waist and creamy thighs-

His heartbeat pounded so loudly that Ichigo could barely hear himself think anymore. What was she doing here? No, he knew what she was here for – the thought suddenly made him feel warmth rushing through himself and his breathing quickened.

He found himself taking a step forward when his conscience screamed. Wait! This wasn't just any slave he was thinking about – this was someone he knew as a child. Orihime still sat there grimly waiting as if she faced death. As fast as desire had overtaken him, guilt blossomed as well and Ichigo suddenly felt sickened by his instinct.

Ichigo let out a choking noise, turned on his heel and fled the room.

Orihime looked up in confusion as the door slammed shut, and then the sound of running feet faded off. There she was, dreading what was coming and resolve steeled as hard as she could – and her master had run away at the first sight of her. This... this wasn't the reaction she expected.

She did a quick inventory of herself. Was her unpainted body not to his liking? Tatsuki had cleaned her face despite her protests, maybe she didn't look as ravishing anymore? She is sitting on the right bed, isn't she? Maybe she should've kept her dress on?

Puzzled, Orihime forgot about her earlier trepidation and walked over to the door.

Ichigo pounded on the door to Tatsuki's quarters, "Tatsuki! I need to talk to you!"

She opened the door and yawned, "What? Ichigo, if she bled on the sheets, that means you got your money's worth-"

"Idiot! That's not what I –" Ichigo sputtered, "I didn't do anything! I'm not going to do anything like that! What is she doing in my room? I didn't tell you to leave her there!"

"Oh, you mean, actually get her a place to sleep in?" Tatsuki blinked, then grinned, "You're certainly a lot more prudish than I thought. Didn't your father buy her to get that stick out of your ass?"

"No! Just because I bought her from the Illusory Moon doesn't mean I wanted her that way." Ichigo fumed, "Besides, don't you normally let the new slave girls to sleep in your room when we're out of space?"

Tatsuki looked at him strangely, "You mean you forgot?" She stepped back to allow him a view of the chamber.

It was filled from one wall to another, stacked from floor to ceiling, with the wine jugs that the scribes had been counting earlier. Belatedly, Ichigo realized that their recent trade had just completed, and Tatsuki's quarters, being on the first floor of the house and having the same temperature as the storerooms, also served as extra space during such events. The few feet that had been spared were only for enough legroom for Tatsuki and her narrow pallet.

Tatsuki glared at him, "And we haven't started the wheat harvest yet. Obviously, I don't have room for any new slaves. And since you came home with one, I had assumed that you meant to keep her in your room."

Ichigo started to protest, but then her words registered and his shoulders slumped. "Okay, I'm sorry."

"You should be telling that to the girl."

"I can't go back up there! She's -" Ichigo flailed, "naked, on my bed." The look of horror on his face made Tatsuki choke with laughter.

"Stop laughing! This isn't funny!"

Tatsuki fought to regain her breath, then looked at him in the eye, "Be a man, get back up there and apologize, then just tell her."

"I already told you, I can't-"

"You ever thought about what that girl's been through to end up that way?"

"Of course I did." Ichigo grew quiet for a moment. "Alright."

"Meanwhile, I'll try to think of something."

Orihime had been sitting forlornly in a jail cell the first time she met the man called Aizen. With her brother gone and buried, they decided to call in her debts and had thrown her in here when the apothecary's belongings didn't suffice. Orihime felt apprehensive about the way the guards leered at her, but it seemed that the local officers had a different plan.

In the dark, she had dreamt of escape, or perhaps a life of stagnant servitude. Gone would be the days when she and Sora drifted across the land plying their wares. But the door to the cell opened, and a tall, pleasant-looking man with brown wavy hair had stepped through.

"Don't look at me like that," the man smiled, almost kindly, "I'm not here to save you."

At least he had been brutally honest.

Orihime stood by the door and pressed her forehead into the cool wood, fingers worrying at the latch. She could lock the door now, but she was certain it'll end up just being battered down, and an angry master could mean worse things for her.

The first humiliation, she remembered, was the examination from the elderly woman. Dry, rough skin on shriveled fingers scrabbling up her thighs, lifting her leg. Seeking, peering eyes that made her feel, for the first time in her life, that she was nothing more than an object for appraisal. Orihime had never wished so hard for the ground to swallow her alive.

Orihime clenched her fists. She had to try, or bear with the idea that if displeased, her master could easily pawn her off to anybody for amusement, have her lashed or some other degradation. Her stomach turned at the possibilities. That left… trying to figure out what went wrong.

Well, first things first – outside the closed door, she still had no idea where her master went, or how the house was structured. Orihime contemplated putting on the translucent dress again and searching, when she heard footsteps. She took a step back in case the door opened.

Nothing happened.

When the silence nearly stretched for a minute, Orihime grabbed the latch and peeked outside. Ichigo started at the sight of her.

"Inoue!" His eyes darted down briefly and registered some rather exciting details before he forced himself to concentrate solely on her face "L-look, I just wanted to tell you.."

"Yes, master?" Orihime frowned. He seemed to be affected by her somewhat, but struggled with something he couldn't quite verbalize.

"Well, I was thinking.." He paused while searching for what to say.

Orihime studied him. Maybe he needed some help? Did he prefer something exotic? If he had trouble telling her, then she'll have to go for the aggressive approach.

Ichigo gasped as Orihime looked up at him with huge, curious eyes. "Is there something wrong, master? What can I do for you?" She moved closer, pressing her generous bosom to Ichigo's chest. Bare skin grazed against skin for a second before Ichigo back-pedaled, registering the soft, silken feeling as if lightning had run up his spine.

"Wh- what the hell are you doing?"

"Asking you what you wish, Master?" Orihime purred, stepping through the doorway to touch him again.

"Ah, no. Maybe you should stay inside while I-" Ichigo gingerly stopped her progress by putting a palm against her shoulder, while attempting to close the door with the other hand.

"But master, am I displeasing you?" Orihime grabbed the door as well, pulling it open, "Do you have any special requests? I can do anything you want! If you wish pain, I can work with flechettes or knives without scarring! Or scourges and whips, and rope if you wish me bound! If you prefer men, I can work just as well with an implement!"

"No, no and no!" Ichigo sputtered, the red rising from his neck to his cheeks, and tugged on the door harder. "That's not what I –"

They heard someone clear their throat and the both of them paused in their struggle over the door. Tatsuki regarded them with a raised eyebrow.

"If you two are done playing, I brought a couple of things you might need."

"First, a decent dress." Tatsuki slid one made of the simple white linen that she also wore over the dumbfounded girl. Behind her, Ichigo moved a scribe's desk against a wall to another location, completely lost in concentration. Tatsuki had instructed him to move the assortment of baskets and boxes to another side of the room.

"Second, your own pallet." Tatsuki showed her the rolled up item, then turned to Ichigo, who was also waiting with questioning eyes, "This used to be your mother's chambers, wasn't it? You see that rod embedded in the ceiling? This was where she used to have a dividing curtain for her personal slave."

Ichigo looked up, and understood, "And the door we blocked off years ago was for the slave's door from here to the kitchens?"

"Yeah. The mistress was strange like that, but anything she wished for, she got." Tatsuki shrugged, "Anyway, you've got a big room here, so why not let her stay?"

"But there would only be a curtain between us!" Ichigo frowned, "that's uhhh, look – why don't we just switch rooms, you and Inoue can sleep here while I take Tatsuki's room and then-" He couldn't fathom having to share a room with the girl which, even now, he couldn't bring himself to look in the eye.

"Then lose your servants' respect in the morning? I thought you bought Inoue for your reputation?"

"Okay, then maybe she could switch with Sado instead-"

"You're digging a deeper hole with that one, if you'd rather have Sado in here with you than Inoue." Tatsuki remarked, "I'm sure everyone doesn't mind, as long you'd provide some heirs but –"

"No! It's not like that!" Ichigo threw his hands up, "Fine! She can stay here in my room!" He detached the rod and strung the curtain, the last item that Tatsuki brought. He accomplished the task while giving off the appearance of sulking.

"Well, I hope you don't wait until after she's gone to sleep to change your mind." Tatsuki said dryly.

"Sleep?"

They both turned to the girl who had been following the exchange with ever-widening eyes, "Go to sleep? Y-you mean, I don't have to do anything?" A kind of nervous hope hovered in her eyes.

"Well, not exactly," Tatsuki crossed her arms; "I suppose we could make a house slave out of you. Or if you have some skill at anything, like cooking or sewing, and since you're staying here you could be Ichigo's personal slave in the meantime."

"N-no, I mean, like," Orihime made a broad gesture towards Ichigo's bed.

Ichigo and Tatsuki shared a look, and then turned to her again with the barest hint of smiles. Tatsuki patted her on the head, "For once, I'm glad to be wrong about him, you really got lucky today, kid."

"Inoue," Ichigo intoned softly as he walked towards them, "was it really unthinkable for you that someone would want to buy you just to save you?"

Orihime looked into his eyes, and saw nothing but kindness there. Her vision blurred. Tatsuki sighed as the girl let out a sob and fell to her knees, then proceeded to cry like a child.

"Thank you! I'm so sorry, I thought-" Orihime gulped as she tried to wipe away the tears that wouldn't stop coming, the nose that started to drip sloppily, and the heaving sobs that kept her from talking without blubbering. "T-thank you, thank-"

"There now," Tatsuki hugged her, "don't make me have to go downstairs for another dress." Ichigo looked troubled and sheepish at the sight, but Tatsuki waved a finger in his face, "You've certainly outdone yourself this time."

"I didn't mean to make her cry!"

"Don't mind the clumsy oaf, he should've told you sooner and in clearer terms," Tatsuki consoled the girl, whose sobs diminished while she tried to smile through her tears.

"I've been trying to-" Ichigo bit back his protest when Tatsuki glared at him again.

"Anyway, I think I should get going, I'm the first to wake in the morning," Tatsuki stood up and led Orihime to her bed, "and we've got a lot of things to do tomorrow." Orihime nodded and went behind the curtain, glad to retreat from their scrutiny.

Tatsuki stepped back from their handiwork, and then went to the door, "Now play nice, and don't give me a reason to punch you, Ichigo."

"Whatever." Glancing at the girl's silhouette, Ichigo plopped onto his bed and felt the day's fatigue suddenly overcome him. He didn't want to think anymore. His eyelids started to slide shut.

"Good night, Inoue."

Orihime started in surprise, before she stuttered a reply, "Good n-night, master."

But Ichigo was already asleep.