Title: Tainting the Roses Red

Disclaimer: I hereby state that I do not own bleach, nor intend any sort of infringement on what is the sole property of Kubo Tite.

Warnings: Umm, probably should have started this a while back, but from here on out expect strong language.


So… everyone is asking what's up with Orihime and her big bad secret.

All have to say is: be patient. It will come, I promise! This chapter gets us closer.


Chapter Eight

Ichigo glared at the dismembered hollow until it faded into nothingness, wishing not for the first time, that he could chase after it and keep cutting it up until he was satisfied. Not that it had been especially troublesome… just especially annoying. It had made the usual threats, rip you apart, eat your soul, lay siege to your town, yada, yada, ect.

All the usual threats.

Except, then of course, it had gone off and used his name. His name that he hadn't bothered giving, since he figured it would take longer than just killing it out right. And that was that. These attacks were targeted. He had wanted to question it, but a few over-enthusiastic slashes had it finished off prematurely.

Although, in his experience, it didn't take long before some elaborately decked out bad guy with an overestimation of his own skills, darted out of the woodwork with some seriously convoluted plot to take over the world or some other stupid shit.

Ichigo scratched his ear. He had hoped he might catch a break this time. Damn. Well, at least he could tell Inoue about it and then they could call up the others and put them on alert. They were going to have to hash this thing out at some point. No more screwing around.

He turned in the direction of Orihime and where he had left his body, making his way back. Only, everything wasn't quite the same way he had left it. He must have shed his body too fast, because she was leaning over him disbursing a great deal of attention to his head.

Not that he could see through the thick curtain of her auburn hair. It must have fallen to the ground before she could snag it. It didn't matter, he was sure she'd have it all fixed up in a few minutes anyway.

"What's the damage?" He asked crouching beside her.

He fell back with wide eyes when she gave a high pitched squeal, before shooting up into the air. His body, forgotten, tumbled from her lap with a muffled thump.

"Kurosaki-kun! I-I…just…" Her usually active imagination failed her utterly. Orihime's mouth, however, just kept trying. "I… I…uh…"

Oh, god…

She tried to calm herself, feeling mortified at getting caught with her hand in the 'Ichigo cookie jar'.

He's going to hate me…yell at me…. this is worse than the time I crashed the whole marching band down the stairs…I've taken advantage of Kurosaki-kun…! His reputation will be ruined! I'll have to do the honorable thing and marry him…His family will want a dowry, but I won't be able to pay. I'll have to borrow cash from loan sharks and sell contraband to little kids and bad guys, but then they'll want us to pay interest… they'll threaten to break our knee caps if me and Kurosaki-kun don't turn tricks to bring in the moneys…

She clenched a fist. Breathe, Orihime! You can do this!

Completely oblivious to her rather uncomfortable and animated state of affairs, Ichigo leaned over his body, inspecting his head and finding nothing wrong. He climbed back in, before grabbing his things from where Inoue had neatly arranged them beside his body.

"Thanks, Inoue." He said it like he meant it.

Orihime, who wanted to crawl under a rock, wisely said nothing of her thoughts...

"…Umm…You're welcome?"


"I'm home." Ichigo called out, more out of habit then wanting his presence noted. He tossed his bag down, but stood waiting by the door before kicking off his shoes.

Sure enough.

"Ichi-!"

He slammed his foot into his father's face, stopping him dead in his tracks.

It was like the bastard enjoyed pain.

"You never learn…" Karen said, without taking her eyes off the TV.

Beside her, Yuzu was twisted around looking over the back of the sofa, frowning at her father's momentarily prone form. "Daddy, you need to learn some new moves or you'll never be able to defeat brother."

Isshin popped up from the ground, causing Ichigo to tense up again. "New moves, you say? Ha! That's daddy's little strategist! We'll do it together! 'The New Alliance of Fathers and Daughters Against Ichigo'! We can call it …N-AF-DA…I…" He stumbled all the way over the imaginary word.

Ichigo just knew he did it to irritate him. It wasn't even that hard. He tried sounding it out in his head before catching himself and throwing on the mental brakes.

"You can leave me out of it." Karen said in her bored tone.

"Me, too." Ichigo added, kicking his shoes off, prepared to stomp up to his room. The doorbell rang behind him. "I got it"

"Did you hear that, Yuzu? Your brother and sister are so cruel to their father!"

He tried to ignore it, but he knew his dad had brought out the waterworks.

How embarrassing…

He pulled open the door and did a double take at the green, white, and black clad figure. Standing on the front steps was none other than Urahara Kiskue.

Ichigo blinked.

"Hey there, little boy, is your daddy home?" He waved a fan while spinning his cane. Ichigo wondered if it was difficult. The other part of his brain was just yelling.

NO.

NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.

There was no way this was happening.

He stared at the devious, blond mastermind turned shopkeeper in front of him, before turning to face his father's overly winning smile.

Damn it, he was trapped. And this wasn't happening.

He could handle one of them at a time, maybe, but both of them together? In the same room…? At the same time…? Together…?

There was no way in hell.

He saw grey spots as his brain tried rebelling against what his eyes were telling him.

Maybe, if he just closed the door, Urahara would go away and his father, possessing all the rational continuity of a small animal, might just forget he had ever been there.

He started to test out his theory, only to realize belatedly that Kiskue had already stepped around him.

Damn…

He thought about making a run for it, but Urahara had only ever been in his house once that Ichigo was aware of, and here he mentally stressed aware of, so he had to have a good reason to do so now, right?

"And how are the lovely young Kurosaki sisters this evening?" Kiskue asked.

Ichigo was beginning to feel sick.

Yuzu blushed, beaming at the compliment. "We are very well, thank you for asking, Urahara-san!"

Karen ignored him completely, having never gotten over the grudge from being passed up for the title of 'Red-something-or-other'. Ichigo wished he could do the same.

"Are you ready, Isshin-san?" Kiskue drawled, turning to his host.

"Of course." His father replied smoothly, for once showing no trace of his typical insanity.

"Hold it! Stop! No one move!" Ichigo flicked his gaze back and forth between them. "You!" He pointed an accusing finger at the two men. "Just what the hell is going on?"

He flinched at the panic in his own voice.

"Why, Kurosaki-kun, Someone might think that you are trying to imply something." One surprisingly cognitive gray eye peeked out at him from beneath the green striped hat.

Ichigo threw him an incredulous look. Well, that's good. He had damn well meant to imply something.

His father threw an arm around his shoulders in what Ichigo could only assume was supposed to be a fatherly way. "Daddy is deeply moved that you hunger to devote your time to your father, but daddy needs his grown up time now, Ichi-nee-nee."

Hunger to devote?

Ichigo took a moment to try regaining his patience before he spilled blood. He threw his father off.

"Like I care about that! I just know that you two perverts are up to no good!" He resisted the urge to stamp his foot.

He had to give them credit, they both seemed truly shocked. Urahara with a hand over his heart and his father with a wrist slung over his forehead in a theatrical fashion.

"We are simply continuing a long held appointment to search for the perfect frozen dairy confections. Now, I heard from Inoue-san, that there is a place that makes to-die-for Pistachio sherbet." Kiskue winked at him.

Ichigo cocked an eyebrow and wasn't even slightly surprised to feel it twitch. "You're going to a strip club, aren't you?"

Isshin thumped him smartly in the back of the head. "Don't be crude." He threw a thumb over his shoulder as he followed Kiskue out the door. "Think of your sisters." And out he went, shutting the door behind them.

Ichigo stared at the place they had been for a full minute before walking dazed up to his room.

Nothing good could possibly come of this.

Damn it


Orihime itched her nose. Hmm…someone must be talking about me.

She looked out over the street beside her apartment and shivered for no reason at all. Even for March it had become unseasonably warm, but as she sat on her balcony, resting with outstretched legs and trying to warm herself by sunlight alone, she just kept trembling.

Shaking out her feet, she stood gripping the black iron rail of her apartment's balcony. She watched the people down on the street scurrying home from work or shopping, but she didn't really see anything.

She had dreamed again last night.

No, dreaming implied that the experience had been pleasant in some way. This was different. It was like remembering during sleep, in a way that made things change in subtle and disturbing ways. Her sleep had been choked by visions of moonlight on bone masks. It had been full of a boy with pale skin and electric green eyes and the broken skull of a little girl dressed in sack cloth. It had been sad, but in its own way, it had been peaceful enough.

Then everything had shifted; changed until she was in a new and frightening place, where the light was too dull and cast shadows with sharp angles. It was a warehouse. She knew it of course. She had tried with all her might to forget it, to forget the eerie not quite sane voice of the shinigami fugitive, as he rationalized the slaughter of the innocent. The torture of children...

Orihime shuddered.

When would this stop?

It had been almost a year. Everyone else had moved on, didn't talk about it. Things hadn't been put right, but it was as close as they could get. She knew that. So why, was she still stuck? No one had blamed her for what she had done. On the contrary, she had been highly praised by soul society, excessively even. And the lost souls had been put to rest… so why couldn't she put her conscience to rest?

She felt the familiar friendly weight of guilt coming down to settle around her shoulders. She almost welcomed its presence. It helped to fight off her sharp anxieties; her fear of losing herself, of giving in again to the hatred for that kind of unapologetic evil.

She was scared, she thought, slightly bitterly. Again.

She understood why Ichigo was so unwilling to talk about his hollow. Who would want exposure like that? Who could just open themselves up and show the world all the ugliness they were capable of?

She shivered again at the mere thought of his hollow, gripping the rail tighter. She hated it and she hated the part of her that was so much like it. After everything was said and done, was she any better? Hadn't there been something inside her that had snapped? Not a hollow, but something ugly, something capable of killing an unarmed person.

Orihime felt something small and warm and wet land on her foot and she looked down to see blood dripping off her fingers. A sharp splinter of metal dug deep into her flesh from the force of her grasp. She pulled it out and sucked the wound to stop her bleeding.

You deserve this, you know...

She sighed. Usually she ignored this string of thought, but now she picked it up and followed it to find out where it went. She felt too drained to fight with herself. She was caught up in a world of next-times. Next time she would be stronger… Next time she would stay out of the way… Next time no one would get hurt trying to protect her…

A world of next times closed in around her, making her feel both crowded and alone.

You couldn't keep from getting caught. You couldn't destroy the hogyoku. You couldn't save those children. You couldn't even be strong when it mattered. All you ever did was cut the rope that held the sickle, and you couldn't even do that before they were all dead.

She gasped at the unexpected force of her own remorse. Bowing under its weight until her head touched the railing.

Why was she doing this? She couldn't go back or undo anything. She should just forget it like everyone else. There was no time to be doing this. There was homework, and everyone was coming over. After that, there was dinner to be made and sleep and school the next day. There was no time for what-could-have-beens…and there would never, ever, be enough time to replace what had been lost…

She turned her gaze back to the people on the street. They all seemed to be in a hurry. She wondered if any of them could really say what it meant to lose time.

She blinked, speaking of losing time…what am I doing? Everyone will be here soon.

As if on cue, a familiar orange head came into view, cutting through the sea of browns and blacks.

Holy crap, he's early!

Orihime spun around assessing the situation of her apartment at light speed.

A pile of clean laundry sat on her couch waiting to be folded, her afternoon lunch was exactly where she had left it, uneaten, and various books and magazines graced every available surface.

She could hear the light trudge of footsteps from the bottom of the stairs.

Orihime burst into a flurry of movement.

Dishes in the kitchen... Sandwich in mouth… Schoolbooks in bag… magazines in the holder… and laundry on bed…

She grabbed the pile of laundry, wrestling it into submission, as a sharp rapping at the door signaled that she was out of time. Throwing the clothes on her bed she shut the door and ran to let Ichigo in.

She opened the door and pushed down the sweet pang that assaulted her senses.

He stood, head tilted to the side, slouching against the doorway, hands stuffed into his pockets. His navy hoodie was undone and he had the sleeves shoved up to his elbows. Tight faded denim jeans hugged his legs and Orihime really hoped she wasn't staring.

He looked up at her from under his bangs, going still at the sight of her.

There was a long moment of silence, where they simply looked at each other before she realized she was supposed to let him in, not stand there gaping.

"H-hi Kurosaki-kun, you're early!" She said, stepping aside to let him pass.


Ichigo blinked, realizing that once again, he had just checked out his friend. He brushed by shoving a hand through his hair.

"Yeah..."

He looked around, trying to sort out what he wanted to say. His brain had scrambled for a split second, upon seeing her out of her school uniform and in normal lounge clothes, looking tousled and out of breath. Formfitting lounge clothes, his mind supplied, before he calmly told it to shut the hell up.

"Want some tea?"

Before he could reply, she skipped off to the kitchen, making herself busy.

That's good. It would probably be better if she wasn't looking directly at him. "Well, I thought we could talk about some stuff."

The rattling and tinkling in the kitchen stilled for a moment before continuing.

"What about?" She asked.

He idly picked up a scrap of fabric from her floor, clenching it between nervous fingers, as he wondered how to say what he needed to without alarming her.


Orihime taste tested the tea as she peeked around the corner to see why he hadn't answered.

She froze.

Standing in her living room stood Ichigo, with a bewildered expression on his face, dangling a piece of cream colored lace off of one finger.

Oh, god no…


Ichigo wrinkled his forehead as he tried to figure out what it was, something girly, no doubt, like a hair tie or a bracelet or something-

He went rigid, realizing exactly what he had been toying with for the past several minutes, and exactly how little of it there was.

He flung the offending garment across the room as if it had bitten him.

Orihime sputtered and choked as she felt hot tea shoot up the back of her throat, barely registering the panicked yelp, as he spun around to face her. They stared at each other with shocked expressions as she tried to regulate her breathing.

A loud knock at the door made them both jump. She watched him look over at it as if he expected it to implode, before striding over to it and jerking it open.

"What?" He growled, opting to cover his discomfort with anger.

Rukia, Chad and Uryu blinked simultaneously.

"Are we interrupting?" Rukia asked, ever insinuating.

Uryu cocked an eyebrow.

Ichigo fantasized about shaving it off. "No."

"Then let us in, baka." She shoved past to greet Orihime with a smile and a warm embrace. Uryu and Chad followed at a slower pace.

So much for saying what he needed to say before they got there.

Ichigo had finally managed to talk to the other vizards about his hollow and although it hadn't been as productive as he wanted, it had at least been insightful. And entertaining. There was nothing quite like watching Shinji get the shit beat out of him with a sandal. At least, until it had been aimed at him.

"S'up, Ichigo? Long time no see…" Shinji scratched his head without taking off his hat. A feat which never failed to amaze Ichigo, considering the blond vizard was hanging upside down when he did it. "We were startin' to think ya didn't need us anymore."

"Don't flatter yourself, Shinji, I never needed you." He said by way of greeting. "Hey." He nodded to Risa and Kensei, who were crouched over a magazine with a sultry half naked woman on the cover.

"Good afternoon, Kurosaki-san" Hachi greeted from over Ichigo's shoulder.

Ichigo jumped. "Hachi, make some noise or ring some bells or something, if you're gonna do that."

The large vizard looked thoughtful. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Ya gotta remember, Hach, our strawberry headed friend here is spiritually blind…"

"Where's the squirt?" Ichigo asked, more to change the subject than as a passing interest.

Shinji shrugged. "Who cares-"

SMACK

"Owww…" Shinji moaned, clutching his head on the ground, as Hiyori stood over him, sandal in hand.

"Ya freakin' fat ass loser! He asked didn't he?" She raised the shoe again, just in case he hadn't got the message. "What the hell do you want?" She asked, rounding on him.

He took a step back before his resolve solidified. "I got a problem with my hollow."

She actually looked interested. Shinji sat up rubbing his cheek and wisely said nothing.

"Yeah?" She asked. An unpleasant smile curved her lips. "Been givin' you trouble again, cause I'd love ta beat it outta him."

Ichigo felt his hollow twitch. Everyone was looking at him.

"Not exactly in that way, but..." The idea was certainly intriguing."I don't think that would work. It's a problem with Inoue. I think that" How to put it? "he might be…uh, interested in her."

"Might be?" Shinji stood, directing a sharp gaze at Ichigo through narrowed eyes. "What do you mean by saying something like that so lightly?" He snatched Hiyori's sandal and thumped Ichigo over the head with it. "Orihime-chan" Thump. "Is" Thump. "a nice" Thump. "girl!" Thump, thump, thump.

"Hey! Cut that out!" He yelled.

"Yeah!" Hiyori screeched. "That's my shoe. Get your own!" She snatched it back and immediately turned it on him, hitting him until she was placated. "But you," She pointed it at Ichigo. "What are we supposed to do about something like that?"

"I don't know. Haven't any of you ever had a problem with it?" He looked around at a sea of blank faces. Even Hiyori was speechless, at least for a second anyway.

"Ya stupid fuckin' retard! How the hell would we?" She drew back to slap him with the shoe again, but something she said had caught his attention and he didn't want to be distracted.

Hiyori looked up when her hand stopped moving. His grip was impressive, but not painful. When she tried to pull back, nothing happened.

"What do you mean, how would we?" He met her gaze and something in his eyes made her swallow.

"She meant…" Shinji said, extracting her hand out of his iron grasp. "We…none of us…have the kind of relationship with our hollows that you have with yours… We don't communicate with them. It's us or them. We have no in between."

Ichigo stood dumbfounded. What…?

His hollow moved again, and he felt a surge of irritation well up to replace shock.

"Well, you know that information might have been useful a couple years ago." He said, annoyance coloring every word.

"We thought you knew." Shinji blinked. "Your hollow was a byproduct of Shattered Shaft. That's Urahara's. Why didn't you go to him?"

Ichigo glared at him as if he were being stupid on purpose. "Well, what the hell am I supposed to do now?"

Shrugs all around. Damn.

"Perhaps if you explained your troubles further…Inoue-san is a very special young lady. It would be very unfortunate if something were to happen to her." Hachi said.

Ichigo wondered if he had imagined the chilling spark in the large man's eyes. He had always been fond of Orihime. Well, Ichigo supposed, if it came down to it, he could always stash her here. His hollow gave another irritated twitch. He shook his head, trying to sort out his thoughts.

"He's just all…I don't know…It's like he wants to get at her…"

"In what way?" Shinji asked sharply. "You think he wants to devour her soul?"

"Maybe, it's hard to say. When she's around, it's like" Why did I come here…? "like burning, on the inside, It's umm…intense…" He felt totally ridiculous.

"Ha, the last time I checked, that was a man's natural reaction to an attractive woman." Kensei called from his second story perch. He flipped open a centerfold.

Ichigo glared.

"You believe his intent is malevolent?" Hachi asked.

"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I? It's not like he's ever anything else." An image of a claw tipped finger running down a delicate white throat made him pause. "Except…except once, in a fight with Ulquiorra."

The room stiffened around him at the name of the green eyed espada.

"He killed him, sort of. I don't remember it really, just bits sometimes, but he never touched Inoue, Uryu, yes. Inoue, no. It could have been a coincidence." He added.

"This is stupid." Hiyori said, sitting cross legged on the ground. "You dumbasses already done said he could talk to 'em, didn't ya?"

So he had left with little more information than he had come with, and a plan to have it out with his hollow, sometime in the near future.

Something hit his forehead. He looked down to see a chip spinning circles on the coffee table.

"Are you going to sit there staring out the window, or are you going to join the discussion?"

He looked up to see Uryu peering up at him over his glasses. "We were discussing the latest hollow attack. Were there any similarities you noticed between it and the other attacks?"

Ichigo didn't like the way he had emphasized the word you. "No, not really…it was an easy fight. They've all been pretty easy, more of a distraction than anything."

Uryu nodded. "That seems to be the situation, although the hollow attacks have been targeting you and Inoue-san." He looked around, stopping on Rukia. "Has anyone spoken with Urahara?"

"No. He's never there." Rukia complained. "I thought we had already decided he wouldn't be so messy with one of his pranks."

Ichigo snorted. "Maybe he just wants to throw us off the trail."

"It wouldn't surprise me. He has enjoyed similar ventures in the past." He pushed up his glasses. "Also it would seem my suits have been particularly susceptible to the antics of the culprit trying to distract us. Rukia's beloved pager, Chad's…uh, well …weakness, for cute things and people in distress…"

Chad shifted silently.

"These are very personal character traits."

"What about the attacks on Inoue and me? What kind of sense does that make?" Ichigo asked, wordlessly daring the quincy to have an answer for that.

Uryu gave him a condescending look. "If it is Urahara, the answer to that should be obvious. He is a very observant man, even if you aren't."

This time Inoue shifted in her seat.

Ichigo frowned at the slight, even though he had no idea what it was. "Rukia already said he disappeared."

"Yes, and I don't think that we could find him if he doesn't want to be found." He sighed. They all did, except Orihime.

"We could always burn down his shop." Everyone turned to look at her and she realized she hadn't been paying the strictest attention, merely blurted out whatever popped into her head. She blushed. "Or something…"

"That's not a bad idea, Inoue." Rukia chimed in.

The guys exchanged apprehensive glances.

Uryu answered. "That probably wouldn't stop him... It might not even be him."

Rukia grinned at Orihime. "Well, I thought it was a great idea!"

"Heheh… thanks Kuchiki-san!" Inoue beamed back rubbing her head.

The guys shared another look.

"Let's just be careful, all the same."


A/N

Ok, so I've been meaning to thank all of my awesome reviewers for a while now, so here goes… In no particular order:

Nypsy, DarkAngel2098, Kira, Hmmm, , WestAnimeBrigade, TheRainingSun, halfdemonfan, AbaraiArekushisu, BrowniesLover, Alice Hattercandy, Recchinon, Luvtousall, Ero-Chibi-Suly-Sama, Chuain, ForeverisGone13, Cookies18, Sachi Nombrado & Crystal Dawn.

Thank you so much!

And a special thank you to the following brilliant writers, all of whom inspire me like crazy!

Crystal Dawn, Nypsy, Alice Hattercandy, & Recchinon.

Also, I happen to be following their stories….ahem….hint, hint. And if any of you out there haven't read 'em, get your butts over there and do it now, and then review! I promise, you won't be sorry!

Thanks for everything!

Child of the Ashes