Title: Til Death Do Us Part: Chapter Seven - The Story

Rating: R

Warnings: het (IchiHime), ANGST, dysfunctional relationships, adult themes

Spoilers: through current chapters (about 655)!

Disclaimer: These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. This will probably (never) be updated , until I eventually drop it like every other project ever. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.


The next week was quiet.

Orihime slowly thawed to Ichigo, and by Thursday, she was her normal, chipper self around him again. Or at least that's how she seemed; Ichigo found he could no longer trust appearances around her. With the knowledge that she could seem perfectly fine, but be hiding deep scars on the inside, he found himself second-guessing anything he may have wanted to say to her. He didn't want to broach the subject of their argument again, so even though he was dying to know if she was actually still angry with him, he had to let it drop.

But by mid-morning on Thursday, his next big problem had landed on his desk - literally.

A paper-faced Momo rushed into Ichigo's office, where he was hard at work on expense reports. With a flutter of official forms, she threw a glossy magazine down on his desk. He stopped stamping the forms, mid-stamp, and glowered at her from beneath his brows.

"What was that for?" he groused. "If this is another Women's Association fundraiser -" he was cut off by the worried expression Momo was directing his way.

"It's not that," she nearly whispered, "Just look at it!"

Ichigo glanced down and was immediately struck by the cover. It was a glossy picture of Orihime, captured mid-laugh, wearing the most expensive furisode Rangiku had dressed her up in. The silk was in varying bright shades of red, cream, green, and pink, a compliment to her russet hair and peaches and cream complexion. But somehow, even with the innocuous subject matter, the picture managed to be simultaneously unflattering and sinister; while Ichigo could recognize Orihime's picture instinctively, he didn't think he'd ever seen her look quite like that. Did the Bulletin have photo editing software?

That question died before it was properly formed, though, as Ichigo finally read the copy on the cover.

"'Seduction of a Captain - The Ryoka woman returns! Destruction of the Gotei 13 from the inside?!'" he read passively, almost under his breath. After blinking three times just to make sure he was seeing it correctly, all color drained from Ichigo's face.

"What the hell is this?!" he bellowed, causing Momo to frantically make shushing motions at him. They stared each other down for a second before Momo took a look around and decided the coast was clear.

"The new issue of The Seireitei Bulletin," she explained. "It just came out this morning. Oh, Captain, this is awful! They're everywhere!" Ichigo glared at her for another moment before his eyes dropped back down to the paper.

"Maybe the story isn't that bad..." he muttered to himself as he flipped open the magazine. He turned to the relevant page and began to read as Momo stood in tense silence.

'...witnesses report that the normally frugal Captain of the Fifth Division has nearly been drained of his assets by the nefarious vixen. The protests of the virtuous Vice Captains of Fifth and Tenth Division went unheeded as she allegedly spent two year's worth of the Captain's salary on clothes and shoes. Later, the Captain himself was seen purchasing a lady's clothing and jewelry. Can a proposal be far off? Will anyone save the noble Captain before it's too late?'

Ichigo's jaw hung open as he looked up to see Momo's fretting face. Now he knew why she'd remained silent.

"I was wrong," he choked out, "It's worse."

"They normally write silly things like this, but if Orihime-chan sees this..." Momo trailed off. She didn't need to finish the sentence; Ichigo knew that Orihime reading that story might destroy her. He'd only just gotten her to start talking to him again; he doubted she'd ever leave her room again if she saw this.

"I suppose the only good thing is that they didn't mention Takeko..." Ichigo's eyes flew open at this remark before he began frantically shushing Momo again.

"Shut up!" he hissed. "They might have the damn room bugged! That is the last thing you need to talk about right now!" Momo cast him a small glare of her own before looking back at the offending magazine.

"What should we do?" she asked. Ichigo's face fell into shadow as he contemplated the grim task before him.

"Burn them," he growled, "Burn them all."


Something was very strange today.

Orihime wasn't sure at first. She'd started her day like normal, dressing and doing her stretches. But as she moved towards Ichigo's office, there was the strangest feeling in the air. It was as if the very walls were watching her; there was a pressure directed towards her by whomever she passed, although she couldn't begin to fathom why.

When she got to Ichigo's office, he wasn't there. Instead, Momo immediately engaged her and began chattering away. Orihime happily obliged her, putting her unease aside. There was an underlying nervousness in Momo's manner, but perhaps she was just imagining things.

"Where's Kurosaki-kun, Momo-san?" she finally asked, after a requisite few minutes' worth of niceties. "He's usually here by now, isn't he? Don't tell me he's still asleep!" Even with their little tiff the previous week, Orihime still couldn't help but miss him and worry for him in his absence. Momo glanced away, no longer meeting Orihime's eyes.

"Oh, ahh-!" the Vice Captain began, her voice hesitant, "He had an errand to run this morning!" Orihime cocked her head to the side, puzzled.

"He couldn't get a subordinate to run it for him?" she asked thoughtfully. "He's usually so busy!"

"Oh, he's still busy," Momo provided. "There was just something he had to take care of in person!" This satisfied Orihime; she knew she had no idea what the duties of a Captain must be, so she shouldn't second guess Ichigo too much. Maybe it was an important meeting! Captains seemed to have those all the time.

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully, finger at her chin. "I wish he'd have left me a note so I wouldn't worry. I guess it was urgent, huh?" Momo's smile seemed to stretch even thinner. Orihime wondered at that.

"Oh yes!" the Vice Captain affirmed, "It was super urgent! You shouldn't worry about it, though! In fact, don't even think about it! He'll be back before lunch!"

At this point, Orihime was fairly sure something odd was going on, but she had no way of dragging it out of Momo. Every inquiry was deflected, and every curious noise was met with a disarming smile and innocuous remark. Whatever was going on, Orihime decided she'd have less trouble getting it out of Ichigo, whenever he showed back up.

But he still had not returned by lunch. Orihime was apprehensive then, but pushed it down. Instead, she opted to go to the dining hall and get a bite to eat. Once there, however, the weirdness intensified. She definitely wasn't imagining it.

The shinigami in the dining area were openly staring at her. A few were whispering to one another. Most didn't seem malicious, but one or two of the women were glaring daggers at her. Orihime even checked to make sure her yukata was on straight and there was nothing wrong with her hair; no answer was forthcoming from her appearance. It all reminded her keenly of junior high school.

But, also knowing well how to deal with these sorts of things, Orihime visibly shrugged it off. Of course she was unnerved inside, but there was no way she'd let it show in public. If someone was trying to bully her, that would only make them happy.

The hushed murmur that had greeted her when she entered escalated as she sat down at her table. People were talking as normal now, but they almost seemed to be talking around her. Orihime pretended not to hear them and tucked into her food. After a couple moments, they had faded into the background anyway.

So it genuinely startled Orihime when a magazine dropped onto the table in front of her. Before she could see whoever had left it for her, they were gone. But she was keenly aware that the entire room was holding its breath and trying to appear as though they weren't watching her. As she reached for the magazine, the lunch hall fell deathly silent. They were clearly waiting for her reaction.

Finally, Orihime picked up the magazine and flipped it over to see the cover. What in the world was this all about?


Ichigo's morning had been absolutely insane.

After the business with the magazine first thing in the morning, he'd made it his mission to eradicate every issue he could get his hands on. Furthermore, he refused to give the magazine a single kan. He figured Ninth Division was betting on selling plenty of copies of this and making bank on the scandal. Not only did he intend to destroy most of the copies before anyone could read them, but he was going to make sure the return on them was miserable so that they would never try this again.

That was all easier said than done. Firstly, the copies had been delivered very early in the morning, so most shinigami had gotten theirs during breakfast in their divisional hall. Even though Ichigo stomped through all thirteen and collected the damned things, they had already been read. Most of the other divisions didn't like being invaded like that, either. He was sure he'd hear about that from Shunsui or Nanao soon.

Then there were the private vendors - the shopkeepers and newsstand owners. They were tougher even than the Captains, and most of them were willing to fight Ichigo physically to protect their stock. Those books had already been paid for by the shops, so he quickly realized there was no point in denying the shopkeepers their money. He also didn't want to risk being arrested for theft.

Reluctantly, he coughed up the kan and bought their stock. Even though he'd gotten paid since Rangiku spent his savings, it was still a punch to the wallet. Giving in on that part left a bad taste in his mouth; they at least got the satisfaction of taking his money. But at least watching them burn with a quick fire kidou was somewhat satisfying.

That left the last part of his to-do list.

When he stormed through the doors of the Ninth Division printing offices, the lower-ranked shinigami gave him a wide berth. Ichigo's spiritual pressure was suffocating, and he didn't really care to keep it in check. If anyone didn't like it, they could leave; although it seemed that most were opting to cower behind their desks instead. They knew he knew what they'd done.

When he came to the door of Kensei's office, he pushed it so hard that it almost splintered. The white-haired Vizard was inside, stamping paperwork at his desk, when Ichigo barged in. He looked up with exasperated eyes and surveyed the damage.

"If you break my door, you'll owe me a new one," Kensei stated plainly. Ichigo was sure he turned purple at the admonition.

"I don't give a damn about your door!" he barked. "What the hell is this?!" He threw a copy of the Bulletin onto his old friend's desk and watched his expression. He barely even raised his pierced eyebrow, although Ichigo knew he had to have been expecting an angry visit from him. Kensei was the one he'd asked for help, after all. If this was the older man's idea of helping, he'd hate to see him trying to actually hurt someone.

"Talk to Mashiro," was all he said, eyes flickering over Ichigo's shoulder. Ichigo's thunderous scowl melted as he processed what Kensei had said. Before he could turn around, Ichigo was being tackled by a green-haired bundle of energy.

"Berry-taaaaan!" Mashiro sang at him, "How did you like my story?" Ichigo pitched forward as she pounced onto his back, a large 'whuff' of air escaping his mouth. Instead of having the good grace to then slide to the floor, Mashiro stayed right where she'd "landed". She swung with him as he whirled around.

"You?!" he barked, "You were the one that did it?!"

"I told you to find a different cover story," Kensei growled from behind his desk. From his tone of voice, Ichigo began to think that the article was an unpleasant surprise to him as well.

"Oh, poo," Mashiro tutted, "That thing you wanted was boooooooring! My story was soooo much better." Ichigo almost thought that he should leave, just so Kensei wouldn't have to discipline his former Lieutenant and current investigative reporter in front of him. Instead, he watched with morbid fascination as Kensei's huge hands slammed into his desk and he pushed himself up.

"That boring thing also had factual reporting in it!" he boomed. Mashiro was unfazed; instead of being intimidated, she looked like she'd been sucking on lemons.

"It was about plants," she said, her tone communicating her distaste, "No one wants to read about plants! They want to read about people!" Ichigo thought he saw steam coming out of Kensei's ears.

"Then they can read about them in the gossip column, where they belong!" Mashiro sniffed, turning her face away from her Captain.

"You liked it, right, Berry-tan?" she asked Ichigo, clearly expecting him to agree with her. Ichigo pulled her arms from around his neck, then ducked his head out of them.

"Are you insane?" he barked, turning on her. "I had to buy every damn copy in Seireitei just to keep anyone else from reading it!" Mashiro just smiled.

"See, Kensei? He did like it!" If he weren't already dead, Ichigo thought he might well have dropped of an aneurysm on the spot. His head certainly felt like it was going to explode, at any rate.

"Are you being this dense on purpose, or does it come naturally?!" he yelled, not even causing Mashiro to flinch. "Do you know what'll happen if Inoue sees this?!"

The thought filled Ichigo with frozen dread. He could already see her; eyes wide with tears ready to fall, sinking to the ground in a half-faint, lower lip quivering. Her gaze would meet his, speaking of pain and betrayal. Worst of all, Ichigo wasn't sure he would even know how to comfort her from something like that. Seeing Mashiro's nonchalance at his situation caused the dread to thaw into hot, molten fury. The green-haired girl shrugged and Ichigo wanted to explode.

"It's just a joke, Berry," she huffed, "You're too serious!"

"You're not serious enough! Don't you think anyone will believe this when they read it? How do you think they're going to treat Inoue if they think she's some kind of man-eating gold digger? How do you think she's going to react when she sees it?!"

"When who sees what?"

Ichigo's blood froze. He saw Mashiro staring past him with a semi-vacant expression while Kensei looked on uneasily. He knew that voice. He hoped feebly that it was only a product of his furious imagination, but deep down Ichigo knew that was not the case. What the hell was Orihime doing there, and who told her to show up?

Ichigo turned slowly to see his worst fear confirmed behind him. There stood Orihime, magazine in hand, head tilted to the side and giving him a quizzical look. Ichigo's mind flashed with nightmare scenarios, each more fearsome than the last, before she finally spoke again.

"What are you doing here, Kurosaki-kun?" she addressed him before turning to the other two with a smile. "Did you come here to thank Kuna-san, too?" Ichigo could feel the color drain from his face as the pit dropped out of his stomach.

"Th-Thank her..." He knew he was staring now, but he just couldn't process what Orihime was saying. Mashiro, on the other hand, seemed entirely too happy to accept Orihime's praise.

"Haaaaaaah-!" the green-haired girl happily gasped, poking Kensei in the nose with her pointer finger, "See, Kensei! I told you it was a good piece! Booby-tan liked it!" Orihime blushed at the nickname, but the two men simply looked dumbfounded.

"It was really well-written!" Orihime finally said, recovering. "I sound really sinister, and the cart-chase scene was really exciting!" Kensei slapped his forehead while Ichigo looked violently confused.

"Cart-chase...?!"

"I was really proud of that one!" Mashiro beamed. "What did you think of the love scene?" Ichigo turned bright scarlet, all the way to the tips of his ears.

"Hmm," Orihime hemmed thoughtfully, "It was a little graphic, but I guess that's okay for the piece. I'm not sure if Kurosaki-kun is into candles, though." Ichigo's head swam. He'd only read enough to know that the piece was completely misrepresentative of Orihime and of their relationship. He would never have guessed that it was basically glorified porn.

"But the leather was okay, right?" Orihime seemed thoroughly engrossed in this conversation, completely ignoring the two men on the verge of a melt down in the room.

"D-Do you really think I'd look alright in something like that?" The smaller woman nodded knowingly before reaching over and cupping Orihime's breasts with her hands as though she were testing their weight.

"You'd need something sturdy enough to hold these up, but I think you could do it!"

Ichigo watched all of this with an expression of stark horror on his face. His head was pounding, blood drumming through his ears and drowning out the rest of their conversation. Orihime didn't even look taken aback by the groping, which made the whole thing more surreal. Ichigo could take no more of this; he was totally and thoroughly done.

"That's it," he growled, grabbing Orihime's hand and pulling her towards the door with him. "Dammit, Kensei, do something about this!" The Ninth Division leadership watched them go in silence.

A few seconds after the door closed, Mashiro turned to Kensei with a grin. The silver-haired Vizard still leveled the same cold stare at his former Lieutenant. It only caused her to giggle.

"I think that was a good job!" she said. Kensei's brow creased further.

"What?"

"Well, you said he asked you for relationship help, right?" Mashiro crossed her arms and looked as if her train of thought was so simple a child could follow it.

"That was supposed to help them?" Kensei slowly asked, the disbelief apparent in his voice. He always knew Mashiro was crazy, but this was just too much. The green-haired shinigami nodded with a knowing smile.

"Yup!" she chirped, "He could get to defend her, and she could get ideas! I must be a genius, huh?"

"That's one word for it," Kensei grumbled, head in hands. Although it seemed like everything had turned out for the best, it was very clear to him that they'd just had a brush with death.

As they neared the edge of the Ninth Division's property, Ichigo began to slow. He had been trying not to be too rough with Orihime, but he really wanted to be gone ten minutes ago. She hadn't complained at all - on the contrary, she was following wordlessly, tethered by the wrist he had wrapped his hand around earlier. But that didn't mean he could assume she was okay. Especially not with the way things had been going recently.

"Inoue?" he asked, turning his head to look at her. She looked mostly puzzled, which he took as a good sign. "Are you okay?" Orihime smiled as she nodded.

"I'm fine," she said, her eyes soft, "Just a little confused. Did something happen?" Ichigo was once again nearly struck dumb.

"You read that article, right?" he asked, making sure they were on the same page.

"Oh yes!" Orihime replied, her face taking on a look that Ichigo thought he might not have seen since high school. "It was really funny! What was your favorite part?" Ichigo watched her with growing fascination. She was animated, gesturing as she spoke, her face lit up with joy. He was certain now; this was the happiest he'd seen her since she arrived.

"My favorite part?" he parroted dumbly, stalling while he picked out his thoughts, "It wasn't true, though! Doesn't it bother you that people might believe it?" They had stopped walking now, right in front of the Ninth Division gates. He turned to face her, fascinated by her happiness in the face of such slander.

"Of course not, Kurosaki-kun!" Ichigo's face bespoke his question, so Orihime continued. "I've always wanted to be an evil temptress! Do you think I should smoke? Ooh, I don't think that's for me, but maybe I could pretend? Should I go with cigarettes or a kisaru? Oh, but you didn't hear that, alright? It'll have to be a secret from you, so I can hide my sinister personality..." As Orihime chattered, Ichigo's confusion melted into acceptance, and then genuine amusement. Mashiro must have engaged her imagination, and that must have awakened a part of her personality that had been dormant until now.

Although, as she began musing about whether he should take her shopping himself for the benefit of the paper, a thought occurred to Ichigo. Even though the paper had portrayed her in the worst light it could, Orihime didn't seem to mind the idea behind the article - that she had beguiled him for her own purposes, namely. Ichigo told himself not to think too much of it, but the possibility was so tantalizing that it was hard not to. Was she really okay with the idea of being with him? His cheeks burned at the thought.

"Ah-!" Orihime exclaimed, knocking him out of his reverie, "Kurosaki-kun, your face is red! Now you really do look like a strawberry!" Orihime looked extra pleased with herself for the pun as she pointed a finger into his cheek.

Ichigo startled, as though he had just been awakened from a nap. He looked around nervously; sure enough, there were people watching. Worse, they were still on Ninth Division property, which meant at least one was a reporter - probably the one barely concealed behind the tree with the notebook. He didn't doubt there was a photographer or two in the bushes, either.

"Don't... Don't be dumb!" he scoffed, although by the way Orihime kept smiling at him, he knew it was a threadbare defense. After a second, though, he reached up to scratch his cheek and looked off into the distance.

"But... does this mean I'm forgiven?" Orihime stopped smiling and gave Ichigo a curious look, head cocked to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"You... You were mad at me, right?" he asked, brows furrowed, "From the other day?" He didn't want to bring the topic up too bluntly, but he had to know. Orihime looked confused for a moment before realization dawned on her face. Her eyes flittered from his face to the ground, an awkward smile on her face.

"I wasn't mad at you," she said softly, "I thought you were mad at me." Ichigo felt his face lighten, the curious stares around them fading into the background. As Orihime looked shyly back up at him, he felt his mouth begin to pull up into a grin. Even though he wouldn't say it, he couldn't stay mad at Orihime.

"Nah," he said dismissively, "I was upset, but I got over it pretty quickly. You don't have anything to worry about." Orihime's eyes shimmered with some deep emotion Ichigo couldn't name. He wasn't sure what it could be, but it was definitely there.

"I'm glad," she said quietly, drawing closer to him. "I guess I didn't realize it before, but it's scary when I'm the one you're mad at." A small spark lit inside Ichigo; he couldn't resist teasing her a little, now that everything was being settled. His look grew a shade more serious as he continued to watch her.

"But it's alright when I'm mad at someone else?" Orihime looked startled before waving her hands anxiously in front of her face.

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" she stammered, "It's not like I think it's funny when you yell at people!" Ichigo couldn't hold back a smirk. "Wh-What I mean is, I don't think people getting yelled at is funny!"

"I see," he said, letting his eyelids slide down and stroking his chin with his fingers, "So you enjoy schadenfreude, Inoue?" He had begun walking again, leading her away from the prying eyes and ears of Ninth Division. Within a few steps, they had passed through the divisional gate and were headed back to Fifth Division's grounds.

"N-No!" she exclaimed, trailing behind like an anxious duckling, "I just... I just think your face is funny when you're angry!" Ichigo stopped again and turned to look at her curiously. "When you're not angry at me, I mean."

For once, Ichigo felt like he had reached Orihime's honest self. This wasn't the tear-stained person he'd been tiptoeing around for weeks, and it wasn't the mask of cheerfulness he saw the rest of the time. This Orihime was awkward and endearing, like a baby bird testing her wings, like the sun peeking out from the clouds after a long, hard storm. But at the same time, he felt like she might slip away at any moment and put the mask back in place.

Ichigo gave a breathy half-chuckle, then began walking again - slower this time, so Orihime could keep up.

"I'll try not to get mad at you anymore, alright?" he said kindly, looking over his shoulder at her. Orihime still followed three steps behind him. She drew up just short of him before stopping and looking up.

"Alright, Kurosaki-kun," she said, a smile spreading across her face. "I'll do my best from now on, too." Ichigo gave her a small nod.

"Okay. Go ahead and go back to the office. I've got some more business to catch up on." Orihime nodded at him before pulling a copy of the magazine from the fold of her yukata.

"Uhn," she nodded, before showing him the book, "But before I go... Could you autograph my copy?" Ichigo's eye twitched as his smile turned strained.

"What?" he asked, watching her expectant face for any signs she was joking. If she was, she was as stone-faced as any thug. If anything, that made him angrier.

"If you don't get back to that office right now, I swear..." He didn't finish the thought, instead giving Orihime an evil sneer. She must have known he wasn't serious, because she laid one hand on her cheek and looked mock-scandalized.

"Oh no, Kurosaki-kun's angry!" she teased, holding her copy of the magazine to her breast. "I'd better run!" Before he could reply, she took off like a shot, sleeves flapping clumsily behind her as she ran in the direction of Fifth Division.

As Ichigo watched her back fade into the distance, he allowed himself a small smile. He had underestimated Orihime and her resilience. Even though there was obviously something troubling her, and he was sure it hadn't gone away, at her heart she was still the same kind girl he'd known in high school. Even though she'd suffered tragedy, she was slowly recovering. It was too much to hope that she'd be back to normal now; these things took time. But this was a start.

As Ichigo finally began to move again, he felt a little lighter. His situation wasn't hopeless, and both of them could be able to move on with their lives. He just had to keep trying. Orihime could be reached. She could come out of it. She could be herself again.