(ゆるす)
"Inoue, I..."
"You cannot say it. You just cannot force yourself to say you are my 'Hikoboshi' nor that y-you... y-you l-love m-me." Kurosaki Orihime stammered the words out through her tears.
She was so sick of crying in front of him. He too, must be fed-up of her being such a weak crybaby. An emotional wreck, because of him. She was just not strong, like... her. "You cannot say the words because you do not love me. I am not her, right, Kurosaki-san?" The tears continued relentlessly, uncontrollably to flow down her flushed face.
Kurosaki Ichigo stared guilty at his beautiful wife weeping in front of him. It would be so easy to utter those three words that she has longed to hear from him for almost as long as they have known each other. It would be so easy for him because he really, really did l...
"It is alright, Kuroaski-san. You do not have to force yourself. I have already gotten used to it." The crying princess told him through her sadness.
Gotten used to what?
Gotten used to the idea of them together?
Gotten used of him loving her?
"What do you mean you have already gotten used to it?" He asked, unable or unwilling to understand the meaning behind her words.
Orihime looked at him sadly and wiped away her tears with the back of her small, trembling hand. She glanced around for something more absorbent to wipe away her tears.
A white handkerchief appeared before her blurry vision. Her husband was standing in front of her with the gesture of consideration.
She took the cloth article from him with a grateful, teary smile.
He was always so chivalrous. Scowling on the outside but a sublime softie on the inside.
And that was why she has fallen so hard for him.
So extremely hard and deep.
Will she ever escape from this well of crazy, unrequited love that is slowly killing her?
Will she ever be not in love with him?
She sighed softly as she wiped the tears.
Ichigo stood silently by her side and wondered if she was going to continue to cry with the little lamentation that passed through her quivering lips. He has thought of handing her the handkerchief as soon as he saw her wandering eyes searching for something. He assumed correctly that she wanted something to clean away her tears. And so he has handed her his handkerchief.
The same piece of fabric that she has placed in his pant pocket every night as she prepared his clothes for the next working day.
It had begun when they were first married and despite his objections of her babying him; she has gazed upon him with much love saying it was what a dutiful wife should do.
His wife.
And now that he was so used to her doing almost everything for him, she was going to leave him.
Was he really going to let her go so easily?
"Thank you Kurosaki-san." Her gratification cut through his selfish, possessive way of thinking. He continued to stand by her side. "I doubt you want this back now." He heard her muttering, almost to herself. "I will just put it in the laundry basket." As she was getting up from her chair, she noticed that Ichigo was still standing next to her. "Have you finished eating, Kurosaki-san? Would you like to have some dessert?" She asked him pleasantly.
He did not know if she was avoiding the question or she has really forgotten about it. He laid his big hand on her tiny wrist, encircled it and held it. "Not until you answered my question."
"What question?" Orihime asked, bafflement apparently on her pretty face as she looked at his scowling face.
Ichigo rubbed his face with his free hand. "About you gotten used to it." He stated bluntly.
Sad understanding of what he wanted to know prompted her to pull at her captured wrist from his strong hand.
But he was not letting go. "Tell me, Inoue." He asked almost forcefully.
Biting back the sigh that was going to escape from her mouth, she looked at him intently. "You really want to know."
"Just tell me Inoue. Please."
She looked at him straight in the eye. "But you already know, Kurosaki-san." Her sweet, honey brown eyes became unyieldingly, accusingly hard. He flinched slightly at her intense glare.
"I will never be love by the man that I love more than anything, more than myself, beyond life itself and I am never going to hear the three little words from you, right Kurosaki-san?" This time, tears will not accompanied the words because she has really gotten used to it.
It was the truth, after all.
"Inoue... " And she tugged her hand free as he uttered her name in despair. He stared at her as she moved around the table. Doing the mundane after the earth-shattering sentence she has accused him of.
"Now, who's for dessert?" She asked cheerfully as she cleaned the table.
He shook his head in disbelief. Now, who was doing the avoiding of the issue at hand. But at least it gave him the chance to find out about the bastard she was with.
"Did you make it?" He asked nonchalantly as he helped her to bring the utensils to the sink.
"No. I had lunch with Tatsuki-chan... "
'Liar.' In his mind, Ichigo accused his innocent wife.
"and a friend of Rangiku-san's at this quiant, charming outdoor cafe." She finished her sentence truthfully.
"Matsumoto, eh? If it's a friend of hers, then it must be of the opposite sex. What's she trying to do? Set you up even though you are a married woman." He mocked one of his wife's best friend and wished in his heart, he could add the word 'happily' in front of 'married'.
But she was not happy, was she?
Orihime did not feel like saying anything and so she continued to wash the dishes with Ichigo doing the drying up without being asked. It was nice having him by her side, working hand-in-hand with her. She has missed him. She smiled as she handed him the washed bowls and chopsticks to be wiped.
Ichigo arched an eyebrow at her smile. He often wondered about the smiles that would just appear on her face and the reason for them. Their hands touched as he took the bowl from her. And in that brief contact, he knew nothing has changed between them.
What they have.
It was still there.
It will always be there.
Dessert was forgotten.
And so was the bastard trying to steal his wife away from him.
(原谅)
"Inoue, since we are not doing anything special on Tanabata, I hope for my birthday, you are not thinking of bailing out on me as well and you will be celebrating it with me." Ichigo asked his wife as she was getting ready for bed.
Orihime stood at the door of the bedroom and fiddled nervously at the hem of the oversized shirt she was wearing. She certainly did not expect him to ask her of that. Of course, she wanted to spend what could be the last time they were husband and wife with him on his special day. But... would not he want to be with... her on that day?
Ichigo saw the contrasting, conflicting emotions being played out on his wife's lovely, flushed face. Did she not know what a fetching sight she was offering to his hungry eyes? Wearing one of his stolen obviously-too-big for her t-shirt; he has only worn it for a few times before she had decided to swipe it for herself. "But, it is so big and comfy to wear, Ichi-kun." She had pouted and denied adamantly to give him back when he asked for it. ''Besides, it smells like you.'' She had added dreamily before he had lustfully removed it off her curvaceous body and making her pay for the shirt.
And now here she was, right in front of him, fingers nervously playing with the said shirt and looking all flustered and absolutely desirable.
"So, what do you say, Inoue?"
Her soft brown eyes blinked once at him and her mouth opened to say something but she closed it again before any word could escape.
"Inoue?" He pressed her for a reply before she started to ask as to if he would rather spend it with her.
Her timid eyes gauged the sincerity of his request. His soulful eyes held hers and persuded her to look closer. She must have found what she was looking for.
"Like how it has always been celebrated?" She asked softly.
"Yeah."
And she nodded.
"Great. I assumed you will be going there straight from the school."
She nodded again.
"I guess I will see you there." He gave her a grateful, boyish grin. "Thanks... Orihime."
She gifted him a small, sweet smile without correcting him of his using of her given name. "Good night." She whispered and turned the doorknob of the bedroom, but before she walked into the room; her tiny wrist was once again captured to halt her movement.
Startled, her bright, brown eyes looked in surprise into his dark brown orbs.
They stared at each other.
Each willing the other to speak first.
To hope.
To hear what the heart has been longing for.
To confess
What could be the last chance for the truth to come out.
Silence.
A moistened mouth opened slightly, but before any word could pass from the wet lips,
You have no right
To ask me how I feel
You have no right
To speak to me so kind
I can't go on
Just holding on to ties
Now that we're living
Separate Lives
Well I held on
To let you go
And if you lost your love for me
Well you never let it show
There was no way
To compromise
So now we're living
Separate Lives
Orihime gave her husband what could be considered as a guilty look to Ichigo. Or maybe, that was what the ringtone implied to him.
She pulled at her wrist gently to let him know she wanted to be free from his firm grasp.
And he let go, reluctantly.
Eyes filled with suspicion, he watched as she went towards the strangely familiar but yet still unrecognizable song. She held the cellphone to her ear and without a backward glance at him, she went into the kitchen and slid the door close.
His chest burn with the uncontrollable jealous rage of not knowing who she was talking to at such a late hour.
He almost has half the mind to go into the kitchen and snatched the cellphone away from her, just so he could give whoever was on the line, the hell he deserved for daring to call someone's wife at such an ungodly hour.
He paced restlessly on the living room floor. He clenched his hands tightly, he could almost imaging himself pounding the faceless bastard with his fists.
'Five more minutes.' Ichigo thought irrationally to himself, 'Before I really go in and cut off her chitchat.'
He glared at the kitchen doors, took a look at the cuckoo clock and started the countdown.
He felt like a damn cuckoo.
Or was it a fucking cuckold?!
At this illogical, uncalled for description of himself, he stalked towards the kitchen doors, ready to yank the doors open and snatched the bloody cellphone from her in undeniable, unreasonable jealousy.
The kitchen doors slid open.
His wife, with her eyes still on the cellphone, collided face-first in his chest. She stumbled back a little and looked up.
She encountered a scowling face full of suppressed fury.
Why was he so angry?
Was he angry with her?
For the call?
Her pale fingers fidgeted uneasily with her cellphone.
"I-Ichigo-k-kun... do you want something from the kitchen?" In her nervousness at his still-cute-to-her irresistible scowl, she reverted to calling him by his given name.
Hearing his name from her lips, his expression softened and he unclenched his hands, "Yeah, I wanted a drink of water."
Orihime gave Ichigo a little polite smile and moved to walk past him out of the kitchen. But that smile pissed her husband and he prevented her from leaving by placing his hands on either sides of the doorway.
"I-Ichigo-k-kun..." She glanced nervously at the muscled arms fixing her in her place.
"Who was it, Orihime? Separate Lives? Are you pinning for another man? You do know you are still married, don't you?" He drawled out his questions slowly, one of his hand moving just as slow on her shoulder, down her arm before clasping her small hand in his calloused hand, he held up her hand; the one with the symbol of commitment and love on it, "Or do you need a reminder?"
Orihime's heart started to beat fast, her breath quickened, she was becoming flustered, her eyes closed to avoid the intense gaze, she bowed her head and tried to compose herself.
She shivered when she felt his fingers under her chin. Her flushed face was being lifted but she kept her eyes shut.
She knew what he was going to do and she almost wanted it.
Ichigo angled his head, his mouth was within inches of hers, "Do you, Orihime?" His subtle threat ghosted over her quivering lips.
But before his lips could claim hers and showed her who she and her heart belong to, Phil Collins' baritone voice forced both of them to open their eyes.
Orihime's timid eyes met a pair of hardened amber before they widened as Ichigo relieved her of her cellphone and threw it across the room.
"K-Kurosaki-s-san?!" Orihime stammered out as she started to rush to where her cellphone was.
Ichigo, furious at the untimely, unwanted interference was made even angrier at his wife's anxiety at answering the call and calling him... that!
He grabbed her thin wrist and pulled her close to him. Almost snarling at his wife, "Who the fuck is he, Hime?" His voice, dangerously low as Separate Lives continued to play in the background.
"W-What do you mean, Kurosaki-kun? It could be a she."
"Separate Lives. I sincerely, fucking doubt it, Hime. So, are you going to tell me or do I have to find out for myself."
"Find out for yourself?" Orihime started to ask before she was dragged by Ichigo to where her cellphone has landed.
Realizing what her husband was going to do, Orihime's free hand grasped onto Ichigo's hand still enveloping her other hand and with all her strength, she tried to prevent him from going closer to her cellphone.
But he was so big and strong.
"No! Ichigo!" She cried out desperately.
Startled by his wife addressing him without any honorific, Ichigo's determined stride stopped in their tracks.
He turned to look at Orihime. Her beautiful brown eyes burned brightly at him. Her small hand continued to have a deathly grip on his hand.
"You are not going to embarrass me by going all possessive, jealous, husband-liked on some poor guy. It is not as if you really care about me."
"I don't care?! How could you say that?! You are my wife!" He stated in a semi-raised incredulous tone at his wife and restarted to pull her towards the cellphone.
"Not for long." He thought he has heard wrongly as to what his wife has just murmured. Once again, he stopped even though she was no longer making an effort to slow him down.
"What do you mean, Orihime?" He asked, with his back to her.
"You want to know who he is. Well, he is the friend of Rangiku-san that I was having lunch with and she introduced me to him because he is a lawyer." At the word lawyer, Ichigo turned and stared at Orihime.
To say he hated Matsumoto Rangiku was an understatement of the mildest kind.
"That nosy bitch! She is always trying to make you leave me! She should really just mind her own fucking business! And you..." He pulled his wife close to him, "Was it fucking love at first sight that you despair at having to lead a 'separate live' with him?! He jeered coldly and her blood ran hot.
"Rangiku-san is not the one forcing me to abandon this marriage! You! You are the one! It was always you and you only! I despair at this loveless marriage! And the song was chosen for you! For you... and I." Her voice, at first it came off strong and loud, but slowly it became soft and weak as the truth once again, resurfaced.
And the watery weakness started to make an appearance, again.
"Now, are you happy? You have your answer. Can you please, just let me go?" She pleaded, tearfully as her cold fingers tried to pry his warm hand off of her wrist.
Ichigo did not know if she meant to let go of her wrist or to really let her go. Nevertheless, he continued to hold her tight.
"Why are you so hellbent on giving up our marriage?"
Orihime stared, dumbfounded at her husband.
How could he?!
How could he say such things?!
How dare he try to blame her for the breakdown of their marriage?!
How dare...
"How dare you, to even try to suggest I am the one who is giving up on this marriage! How many times must I repeat myself for it to get through to that dense head of yours?! It is you! You and your loving of somebody else that is not you wife! YOU! Now. Let. Go. Of. Me!" Orihime shouted at Ichigo in resentment. She clawed her wrist free from his firm vice, not caring if she has scratched him in the process of freeing herself. She started to almost running away from him.
Shocked at his wife's outburst, Ichigo loosened his grip on her wrist. For a moment, he was stunned motionless. But not for long, the minute he realized he was looking at her back, her long, luscious hair flying in her flight to get away from him, he went after her.
Sensing her husband behind, Orihime tried to escape to the bedroom. But he was too fast for her. He was behind her before she made it through the door. He grabbed her arm roughly and spun her round to face him.
Frightened brown eyes met his chest. He grabbed hold of her shoulders and squeezed hard. "Orihime, look at me." Ichigo ordered his wife.
Orihime kept her head low.
"Hime, look at me."
She shook her head furiously. She felt the hands on her shoulders tightened. She let out an uncontrollable gasp of alarm when he slammed her back to the wall. Even before her mind could register the pain, her lips were covered in a punishing kiss.
Her eyes shot opened but her lips stayed firmly closed. Her small hands pushed at his chest whereas his hands left her shoulders, one hand moved to the small of her back and the other went under her thick hair, behind her neck; both hands working to press her closer to him.
The kiss was hard and bruising.
"Don't fight me, Hime. Open your mouth for me." He murmured against her unyielding lips. She shook her head in response. He opened his eyes to encounter a pair of brilliant brown eyes filled with unhappiness glaring at him. Her rosy red mouth vanishing into a thin, pink line.
As long as it was not hatred, he could deal with it. He gave out a light chuckle, darkly.
"You always were a stubborn one, Hime." He remarked calmly to her face before abruptly spinning her around for her face to meet the cold wall.
She struggled but all too quickly, her two small hands were captured and pinned behind her back and sandwiched between their heated bodies.
Ichigo leaned in, breezily, he blew at the hair covering her ear, "Why fight this, Hime?" He took a lock of her hair, twirled the silken strands and brought his covered fingers to his nose. "So, you have been using the shampoo that I like. Have you been using anything else you know I love?" Gently, he brushed away the hair from her flushed face to give her cheek a little tender kiss.
Orihime did not like how her body was reacting, betraying to her husband's seductive antics on her.
There always was a passion between them.
"K-Kurosaki-... " She protested weakly.
"What, Hime?" He answered back just as softly before his lips started to blaze a fiery trail from her cheek, to her neck and he pushed her t-shirt to expose her creamy shoulder, so his mouth could finally be at the sensitive spot he knew would definitely invoke a response from her. Slowly, very slowly, he tasted her delicate skin, his tongue teasing the smooth skin, sharp teeth nibbled lightly, threateningly, "Well Hime, are you going to surrender?"
'Surrender? Surrender to what?' Her bewildered mind wondered in confusion before a whimper escaped from her lips as her husband has bitten down, hard on that spot before soothing it with his 'forked tongue'.
The same glib organ that has been instrumental in creating an illusion that everything has and always will be wonderful in their marriage.
It has to stop.
This has to stop.
"K-Kurosaki-san, p-please s-stop."Orihime managed to stammer out even as the tongue-healing was igniting all kind of sensation to come alive, again.
Giving the bitten mark he has purposely given her one last lick, he decided to create a few more up her neck; he wanted everybody to know she belonged to him and him only.
Now and forever.
Ignoring his struggling wife, he continued to brand her, his larger body locking her in place as his hand began to leisurely caress at the smooth, soft skin for his pleasure. Taking a moment to admire his work, he smirked smugly as he imagined how was his teacher wife going to explain to her innocent students about the flower-liked scattering of ownership on her fair neck.
Hands on her shoulders, he twisted her to face him again.
A long finger tapped lightly on her hidden lips, "Are you going to open up for me, Hime?" Ichigo baited as his other hand continued to fondle, to paw its way to where she has began to yearn for his touch.
He could sense her growing arousal.
Her body was crying out to him.
Only he could satisfy his princess.
Closer and closer.
Nearer and nearer.
But she will not succumb, she kept her mouth closed and her legs even closer.
"Hime," Her hands clenched... her hands... they were free.
She pushed at his chest, "No. You open... " She started to say,
"W-What?" He blurted out in confusion.
"You open your mouth and say those three words to me. And even though I know you are lying, I will accept it because that is how much I want to hear those words."
"Hime... "
"You cannot say it. Even as a lie, you can't say it." She hit him on the chest. "Then, go to her. Go to the one you can say those words to. Ask her to open up for you. Tell your whore to open her legs for you so you can fu... "
And Ichigo took the opportunity to silence her wife. To kiss her. To taste what has been denied to him for so long. He explored the intoxicating wetness that was his wife's mouth. He took his time to rediscover every nook of her dampness. He grinned against her lips as her tongue tried hopelessly to avoid touching his. He wished lustfully another part of him was inside another warm, wet crevice of hers as well.
As he felt her tiny fists raining on him, he took one last sweep and gave her another punishing kiss before whispering, "I do not want to go to her. I do not want her. I don't want to fuck a whore." Ichigo laid a gentle, sweet kiss on Orihime's kiss-swollen, red lips, "I only want to make love to my beautiful wife. My princess." The fists stopped thumping. She stopped struggling. She went quietly still in his arms.
Ichigo caressed her tear-stained, soft cheek with his rough fingers. Tenderly, he rubbed her back.
"Hime," He sighed against her lips before his mouth replaced his stroking fingers and he kissed her delicately on her flushed cheek.
He tasted more of her liquid sorrow before a heart-wrenchingly soft sob choked forth from her.
"Why?" She clenched onto his shirt. "Why can you say that word and yet, you cannot even lie to me to make my heart be happy? Why?" She wept forlornly into his chest as her small hands continued to hold on to his shirt, tightly.
Ichigo looked at his beautiful wife crying her heart out. His arms wrapped themselves around her and he hugged her close to him, to his heart.
They just stood there, with his protective arms around her and her, clinging on to him, crying.
She continued to cling on to him as he bent down, lifted her up and carried her into his arms. He felt her shuddering as he kicked the bedroom wider and walked towards their bed.
Laying her onto the bed as gently as he can, her tear-burdened eyes opened painfully, slowly and they have a look of... fear in them.
He was taken aback by the fear in her swollen, red eyes.
Was she so frighten of him?
Was she so afraid of what he was going to do to her?
Was he going to force himself on her?
He shook his head.
He chastened himself for scaring his angelic wife.
Slowly, he laid down next to her. He pulled her close to him. She did not resist but he felt her trembling in his arms. "It is alright, Hime. We are just going to sleep." She relaxed and his trusting wife clenched at his shirt again.
"Why Ichigo? Why can't you love me? Is it so difficult to love someone like me? Why?" Orihime murmured and shed more tears against his chest. Her small hands gripping tightly at his shirt.
"Just sleep, Hime." Ichigo brushed the tear-soaked hair from her face and he kissed her lovingly on her forehead. "Sleep." He repeated softly.
The tired princess, worn out from the affairs of the heart, murmured sadly about love and sobbed herself to sleep.
Her orange-haired husband scowled as he held his sleeping angel closer to him. She was his star. His goddess. She was the only one who could heal his tormented soul. He was never letting her go. Nobody can take her away from him. Not that bitch Matsumoto. Not that fucking lawyer.
No one.
Well, he smirked grimly, regretfully, expect for the unavoidable, inescapable being in black.
(ゆるす)
Ichigo scowled at the door in front of him. Should he open it with his own key or pressed the doorbell and wait for somebody to welcome him in.
He leaned his forehead against the wooden surface.
Goddamnit! It was his birthday! He did not have to be so flustered on his special day. But this was how he has been celebrating his birthday since she suggested it.
Since they became a couple.
And how his family has loved her for it.
"Ichigo-kun, we should celebrate your birthday with your family."
"Why? I only want to be with you."
"We will be, but I want to let your family know, they are not losing a son or brother, they will be gaining... me."
"You are so cute."
"I am, aren't I."
"Modest too. Promise me the night belongs to only you and I, Hime."
And the nights of his birthday were always something he looked eagerly forward to as he endured his father's mad antics at the family home.
She has never once disappointed him.
He has been so worried she would move out of the home they shared after his disastrous seductive action upon his wife.
Rape.
The righteous, morality part of him forcefully corrected him of what he was really going to do with his wife.
He banged his head guiltily on the door. He was such a sick bastard.
He tried to force himself upon his innocent wife.
Has not he caused his gentle wife more pain than one would have thought it impossible to do so?
But as usual, she must have forgiven him for his rash actions for she did not bring up the night's inappropriate event and they were back to the almost normal, albeit complicated relationship they have.
And now here he was, going to celebrate his birthday at his childhood home with his family and... her.
He hoped that the night was going to be another night he would not forget so easily.
He banged his head one more time for good measure before shoving his hand in his pocket to take out the keys.
Just as he has put the key in the lock, the door opened. "Oh, it's only you, Ichi-nii." His dark-haired sister greeted him listlessly.
"Oi! Is this the way the way to greet your only brother and the birthday boy?" Ichigo removed the key from the lock and shoved it back in his pocket. "Who were you expecting anyway, Karin?" He followed his sister in. Then it hit him.
"Isn't Hime here yet?" He asked anxiously. "Answer me, Karin!" He shouted at his sister when she just gave him a apathetic look of 'blah'.
Kurosaki Karin pointed to Ichigo's feet and told him instead to take off his shoes. Ichigo wanted to take off to look for his princess but with his sister with her arms folded across her chest, standing in his way, obediently he removed his shoes in a fast blurr. "Happy, now?" He asked sarcastically. Karin just turned her back to him and started walking.
He followed his sister in a haste to the living room.
Three pairs of eyes greeted him.
'Three?!'
"Where's Hime?" He asked his family and took out his cellphone, intending to call his princess.
"Hello to you too, son." Kurosaki Isshin grinned at his firstborn.
"Happy birthday, onii-chan." Kurosaki Yuzu smiled at her big brother.
Ichigo returned a small appreciative smile at his youngest sister "Yeah. Thanks Yuzu." His concerned brown eyes swept the room, Where's Hime?" He asked yet again.
"Oh, put your mobile away, Ichi-nii. Orihime-nee should be here soon."
"Why isn't she here yet? She said that she will be coming here straight from school. Maybe, something has happened?!"
To her.
He began to pace restlessly in front of his family and tortured the back of his head.
"Bit your tongue. She was here. Can't you smell all the food? All your favorite dishes? And of course, your birthday cake. Orihime-nee and Yuzu were quite the team in the kitchen." Karin chided him before giving her sister a knowing grin.
"Then where is she now? We are supposed to be celebrating as a family. Did she leave when she know I will be here?" Ichigo's mind drifted self-pitifully to how she was punishing him for his reckless behaviour by not being here with him.
"Should she be avoiding you?" His father asked, nonchalantly.
"N-No! Of course not. " Ichigo denied in a hurry. But he felt the guilt weighting heavy on him and he was sure it was showing on his face. "Did she say anything?"
"Just how much she loved you and... " Yuzu stopped in the middle of her speech and looked at her brother. They all did.
"And what?!" He shouted in exasperation, impatiently.
"She has something really, really special for you and she has just gone to pick it up."
He let out a sigh of relief.
"Did she say what it is?"
"That it is going to be your best birthday present, ever."
"But I thought," He started to say and then he remembered she had said the same exact thing when they were choosing a date to become husband and wife.
And she was indeed the best birthday present for him.
Still is.
So how was she going to top it?
...Unless... she was...
He slumped onto the couch.
"What's wrong, Ichigo?"
"Did Hime seem funny to you?"
"Funny? How? I know a marriage consists of only two persons and I do not want to interfere or to give any unwanted advice but we have been hearing... stuffs." His grizzled old man scratched at his whiskers and looked accusingly at him.
Before ichigo could retort back, Karin made a semi-circle gesture in front of the stomach and asked mysteriously "Two? Doesn't a baby count in a marriage as well?"
The doorbell caused the conversation to come to a halt.
"Must be Orihime-nee!" Yuzu called out as she and her twin raced to the door.
"Why should Hime use the doorbell? She has her own key."
"Your gift must be too humongous for her to handle, eh?" Isshin joked and got up to supposedly help with the 'present'.
"YOU! What the fuck are you doing here?!"
"Language, Karin." Both father and son scolded her at the same time. They looked at each other in puzzlement and walked towards the sound of an anger Karin.
"Why are you here?!" Ichigo asked in shock.
"Happy birthday, Ichigo." The black-haired newcomer smiled sugary at him.
"Did you ask her to come, onii-chan?" Yuzu asked her brother in disappointment.
"No! Why should I?!"
"Please leave. Hime-nee will be home soon and I am sure," Yuzu advised her but she was cut off.
"She won't be coming. She asked me to give your brother his gift." After announcing this bombshell, she handed a big brown envelope to Ichigo.
Ichigo glared at her contemptuously before opening it to look at the content. Upon realizing what it signified, his strong, tanned hands shook and his handsome face was drained of its healthy glowing color.
"Did you put her up to this?!" He accused the short woman.
"She asked to meet me, to meet at our former school. The place where it all started. Where the princess fell in love with her scowling prince, not knowing he loved her not." She paused to look at the 'prince'. "She told me that I was no longer one of her best friends. That's funny coming from her. I have never considered a childish airhead like her as even a friend." She sneered at her former classmate. "She told me to love you more than she did and begged me to take good care of you. Then she finally told me to tell you this will be your best ever present from her." The proud woman indicated the envelope with her finger.
Yuzu restraint her twin when they heard the insulting description of their sister-in-law. Karin was ready to hit back at the dark-haired woman with much more than words.
"Was she crying?" Ichigo asked softly.
"Of course. She has always been weak."
"Did she say where she will be going?"
"No. And since I don't care, I didn't ask."
Ichigo frowned at the one he had said those three words to, took out his cellphone and started to dial his wife's number.
"She's not answering." He mumbled to his family. He shoved the unwanted present violently to his father and ran to his car.
"Where are you going?"
"Home! To look for Hime!" He answered as he banged the car door shut, loudly.
They watched in concern as he drove off like a mad man.
"What are you still doing here?!" Karin spat the question at her.
"I love your brother and you know he love me too. So you should treat me nicer, you know. After all I am going to be your new sister-in-law." She gloated with almost finality.
"You will never be a part of this family! We will cut off all ties with Ichi-nii, if he were to marry a whore like you!" Karin exploded in rage.
"Don't say that, Karin-chan. Onii-chan will always be our brother and Hime-nee will always be our sister-in-law. But you are right, a whore will never be welcome at our home." Sweet Yuzu commented acidly.
"Girls, mind your words." Isshin half-heartedly went strict-parenting on his daughters. He clutched the envelope with the hateful contents against his chest. He turned to the unwelcome guest. "Please leave."
"Why are you still so polite to the fucking prostitute who's breaking up a happy marriage?!" Karin shouted before slamming the door shut in her face.
The petite woman stood frozen. She wiped the tears delicately from her pale face. The thing she did for love. At least she knew she was loved back. She took one last look at what she supposed was going to be her home too. She started to walk away.
It will all be worth it in the end.
(原谅)
"Hime!" Ichigo shouted the moment he has managed to get the door opened with his shaking hands.
The living room.
The kitchen.
The bathroom.
And finally, their bedroom.
Heart pounding...
He looked in the closet.
All her clothes were gone.
Everything was gone.
She... She really has left him.
He collapsed on the bed. The bed where he has held her tight and she has kept him warm and loved him.
Was she really gone from his life?
Ichigo rubbed his face in frustration, in fear. His exhausted eyes caught something white on the now cleared, dressing table. Tentatively, his hand reached for it. He knew what it contained before he poured the contents onto his palm.
It was the three rings he has given her to bond her, body and soul to him and a small piece of paper.
There was a single word on it.
One word that caused an agonizing confession of pure pain and lost to be torn from his throat,
"HIME! I LOVE YOU!"
(ゆるす)
