Title: Courting Darkness

Authorial Notice:

This chapter was a little later than I wanted, but I'm hoping you guys won't hold it against me :)

Chapter Nine

His employer stood looking at a window that dripped with rain. At last he turned, contemplating Gin for a moment over his shoulder, and Gin had to control his expression. There weren't any outward signs, but after months he had learned to read the man well.

He was irritated.

Brown eyes examined him carefully, as if he heard Gin's thoughts.

"Kurosaki, is it?"

"Who would'a thought? My Hichigo all proper and noble…" His eyes sweep over the impressive case beside him where insects of every shape and size were pinned down under thick glass. "Heard of him, have you?"

The man was watching him again, and Gin let his smile grow. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have been let past the servant's quarters, never mind into his private study.

"In my line, one gets to know these things. It's hardly relevant. We must get her away from him."

There was silence for a second as those words settled over the room.

Gin knew his employer had been fond of his plaything, but showing such a level of attachment…

He had slipped.

It seemed even he wasn't above a mistake every now and again. That was good to know.

But it seemed his employor realized his error immediately, because he smiled in a way that made Gin itch to wrap his hand around a blade and the tension in his shoulders left, making him seem relaxed and at ease.

"Guess you're still set on keeping her, then?" He gave the glass beside him a light tap and watched as glittering wings shivered and sparkled in the light. "Be easier to kill 'er. Don't ya think?"

A hand locked around his wrist, silencing the tapping. Gin hadn't even seen the movement. He saw the beginning and he knew the end result, but everything in between was a mystery. Dangerous, dangerous…

"Many things are easy. Would you prefer in I simplified matters, Gin?"

Gin's smile widened.

"Me? Challenges are what make things interesting, don't ya think?"

Still looking as pleasant as ever, the man's hand released his. "That will be all. You may go."

Aizen turned back to the window as the door closed behind him. He took a deep breath, relishing the cool air that wafted from the glass's surface.

It was time to take more direct control.

Kurosaki Ichigo could pose a problem, but only if he realized the scope of the situation. As for Orihime…

A drop of condensation had formed on the window, slipping along slick surface, gathering the others around it until it fell to the sill.

Hinamori had been a mistake, a moment of weakness that it had been necessary to purge. It was regrettable and unforeseeable happenstance that placed Inoue Orihime in that alley at the exact moment he had decided to remedy that. If he had believed in a higher power, he might have even been tempted to call it divine retribution for some past crime. As it was, he would settle to call it irony.

Hinamori had been a moth; Orihime a golden butterfly, perched on the cusp of evolution, ready to transcend. He had waited patiently, carefully guarding, watching for the precise moment when she would be ready to shed her tenuous covering and emerge a resplendent conception.

She hadn't been aware, of course. He had to be fairly cautious, performing the role of generous benefactor as not to alarm her remarkable sense of insight. And he had been quite close.

But if he couldn't display his little butterfly as a stunning showpiece, he would be perfectly content to enjoy her in a more private setting.

()()()

Ichigo shut his office door after the official left, sighing and flexing his shoulders as he turned back, only to find Orihime hovering in the opposite doorway. Lesson paper dangled perilously from her arms.

"You… You told them about me."

Her lips trembled and his eyebrows snapped together. "I did not. That was about something else."

His scowl deepened as she bit her lip, uncertainty clouding her gaze. She didn't trust him. For some reason, it was worse that he knew he didn't deserve for her to trust him.

It had been three days since he had found her in his room and made a complete fool out of himself. The tension of their lessons had increased to the point where he was actively finding excuses not to go, even though he was the one that had insisted they continue them.

He hated the strained silences that stretched between them. More than anything, because he knew it wasn't her natural disposition.

Ichigo wanted to see the smile she gave to his sisters. He wanted to hear her laugh like she did when his father did something particularly irrational. Hell, even the servants were getting more of her heartwarming congeniality than he was. And today didn't seem like it was going to be any different.

He sighed, suddenly feeling completely exhausted.

"That was for Chad."

"Sado-kun?"

Her look was still doubtful, but he wasn't paying attention to that.

"Since when are you on a first name basis?"

Orihime blinked at the suspicion in his tone. "I'm not certain exactly when. Is he alright?"

"He's fine. It's just a formality."

"But if that was an agent of the law—"

"Look…"

Ichigo scratched his head, not sure how he had backed himself in the corner of telling her Chad's personal business. But somehow, her distrust seemed about ten times more daunting than anything he might face from his butler.

"When I got here, a lot of the servants were like Nanao. They didn't like or understand me most of the time, but Chad fixed all that. He set them straight."

"I don't understand what that has to do with—"

"I'm getting to that." He took another deep breath, pushing a hand into his hair. "He has this problem. He… He takes things."

"Sado-kun's a theif?"

Her surprise was evident.

"No. He's not a thief. Or at least, if he was he'd be terrible at it." He glanced up and looked away just as quickly. "He just takes stuff, weird stuff, cute stuff. He doesn't even want it, he just can't help it." Her face was full of astonishment and he found it was easier to speak if he didn't look directly at her. "So I made an arrangement. I give it back and they don't make a big deal about it."

Orihime was smiling and he felt heat creep up into his face.

He glared at the wall and pulled on his coat sleeves to hide it. "Not that it's any of your business."

When Ichigo looked back at her, she had wiped the smile from her face, but her eyes still held hints of light along with something else that made him want to crawl out from under the weight of her gaze.

"Oh…"

"Huh?" He twisted to see her tugging at a strand of hair that had fallen loose from her hairpins. Ichigo watched her struggle with it before plucking the missing pin free. "Here, turn around."

"W-What?"

He rolled his eyes and simply stepped around her, lifting the fallen tress, knowing better than to argue with her misplaced sense of propriety. It wasn't like there was anyone around to even see them.

She tried to turn and yelped when he still had hold of it. "Ouch."

"Quit wiggling."

When he didn't release, she had no choice but to stand silently and allow him to smooth and twist her hair back into place. He caught silken tangles and unsnarled them, so absorbed in his task that he didn't notice his hand brushing her neck until she jumped. The movement sent a jolt of awareness through him, his hands twitching with the wild urge to capture her.

Ichigo didn't know how long he would have stood there with his hands still stroking the fine hair on the nape of her neck if she hadn't started trembling. Or was that him?

He made himself step back, gathering one final deep breath of her scent.

She remained turned just within reach, testing his control. He cleared his throat.

"Done."

"What?"

"I'm finished."

Orihime turned, but he looked away, because a ray of light had fallen from the window, casting a golden halo over her head, throwing their situation into the stark relief of reality.

She was innocent, an angel to his inner demon and for a moment it was physically painful to just to look at her. He was suddenly aware of the soft white of her kimono in contrast to the darkness of his own clothing.

His gaze snapped up when she sniffed.

"All I wanted was a chance to study, but it seems no matter where I go, I'm nothing more than someone else's problem."

Panicking at the sight of unshed tears, Ichigo said the first thing his mind had latched onto.

"Study? What, like books?"

She nodded.

"It was my brother that taught me to read. The book of sutras was his before he died." Smiling, she wiped at her eyes. "Our home had an old library in the far wing. He used to take me there…"

"So why'd you leave?"

Orihime looked startled, as if she had forgotten he was there before she gave another haunted smile. "Daughters are supposed to go away."

Ichigo scowled. "Who told you that?"

Shaking her head, she didn't answer his question at all.

She was grieving.

He hadn't noticed that before, and he wanted to kick himself for being so oblivious. She was still mourning her brother. And her damn family was too stuck up and selfish to care.

"Come with me."

"Eh?"

When she didn't make any move to follow him, he latched onto her wrist, pulling her out of the room and ignoring the tingles of electricity that sparked where they touched.

Taking a candle from its holder, he attacked the stairs, dragging Orihime behind him. They climbed flight after flight until they reached one of the highest floors in the castle and Ichigo released her to push open a pair of solid wood doors.

He heard her gasp.

The walls were lined with shelves floor to ceiling, and stretching through several interconnected rooms. Every available space was packed with books. Some of them were so dust covered they couldn't be read. Ichigo stuck his hands in his pockets and watched as she turned circle after circle, stretching on her tip-toes to take everything in. Every once in a while, she made little noises of delight.

"You like it then?"

She stopped twirling and bit her lip, suddenly aware of herself again. Ichigo looked around to hide the small pinch of disappointment.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?

"I shouldn't act so childish. My mother would be appalled." She smiled, but he couldn't find any happiness in the expression, only a deep sadness.

He watched her finger a book, feeling oddly hostile to these people he had never met.

"Did you get to study much, when you lived with your parents?"

"Hmm? Oh, no. Not really, sometimes Sora would sneak me books into my rooms, but eventually they noticed and took away my candles at night."

Ichigo frowned.

"No light? How did you see."

Orihime laughed. "Not very well, I was terribly afraid of the dark."

He swore under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing." His hands curled into fists in his pockets.

She was still watching him so he moved to study another section of books. He turned back when she laughed. A real laugh. One that made her eyes sparkle.

"You really have a good heart, don't you?"

Ichigo froze, a hard lump forming that he couldn't swallow around.

No man had ever looked at Orihime the way he did in that moment. With eyes that held a yearning desire beside painful secrets. He looked like a man waiting for a death sentence.

She wasn't sure when it happened or who had moved, but it seemed as if the space between them shortened, leaving only the most fragile of distances. Orihime watched the muscles in his throat move as he swallowed.

"You think I have a heart?"

For a second, Orihime couldn't speak to answer him. "Of course you have a heart."

He looked away, still doubtful and uncertain, revealing a choked longing that sent stabs of pain through her chest. In spite of everything he had done, the people he had helped and his family's admiration, he still doubted his own humanity?

"Everything that has a soul has a heart. Some are good, some not very good, and some maybe evil."

"Like me."

She reached out before she could rethink the action and turned his face back to hers. "No one that's helped as many people as you have could be evil."

His eyes were so deep Orihime thought she could throw a stone into them and never hear it touch the bottom, and she was falling.

Hands moved to bring her closer, anchoring her to him, holding her like a lifeline, and Ichigo leaned forward, tilting her face up and brushing his mouth against hers in the softest kiss she had ever felt. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, tasting it before lowering his head back to hers.

It was nothing more than a sweet sharing of warmth between them, but there was so much need and pain that Orihime's breath caught in her throat.

She couldn't.

There was so much hurt flowing just under his touch, it felt as though her heart would shatter from the resonance of it. But she couldn't stop either. She could no more deny him what he needed than she could halt the blood flowing under the surface of her own skin.

After a long minute, he pulled back and just looked at her.

Then, he laughed, a sharp, brittle sound, and releasing her, he stepped away.

"Guess I offended etiquette again."

He glanced at her and when she didn't respond, he shoved his hands back into his pockets and cleared his throat.

"No one ever comes up here, so you can do whatever you want with it. Just tell Chad if you need anything moved."

She stood in a state of shock as he left and at last, when she could no longer hear his footsteps retreating down the hallway, she sank into a chair.

Orihime didn't know how it had happened, but she was so in love with Ichigo Kurosaki that she was willing to abandon all her principles just to touch him. She must have an inherently low nature to succumb to temptation such as this. After everything, was she truly just a mirror of her mother? Would she also be destined to fall in and out of love with every man that crossed her path?

Tears fell over her sleeves and she watched small stains form in misery. She hadn't even been aware that she was crying. Taking a deep breath, she rubbed the wetness from her eyes with the back of her hand.

She had already been in love, but the devastation was incomparable. It was silly when she thought about it, how much hope one person could place on another.

There had been many times in her life that Orihime had felt grief. When her brother had died, of course. And then, when she realized that no matter how hard she tried, she would never be a replacement for a son. And the last, when she found out the man she loved and might have married was nothing more than a lie.

How he had deceived her so completely, she wasn't certain. After all, he had never promised her anything, never spoke a word of endearment or careless praise.

And none of that had mattered to her in the least.

What mattered was that he had brought a warm smile and a carefree grace that Orihime rarely saw. When he looked at her, she felt as if she had been seen for the first time since her brother's death. And she was free again.

She fell in love. His easily amused eyes, his charm, the effortless refinement that Orihime had to work so hard to obtain. She basked in the knowledge that she was important to someone again, and she lived her life in those moments.

Then, he vanished, leaving behind a monster in his place, someone Orihime didn't recognize at all.

Staring at him in that alley, she had wanted to rush at him, to beat at his chest until he gave back everything she had though her life was up to that point, but she found she was suddenly frightened of him, so she ran. He hadn't simply killed that poor, unfortunate girl in that alley, he had also killed every part of himself that Orihime had threaded into her heart.

And now, another had walked into all those empty places that betrayal had left in her life. Only this man seemed to fill those cracks so much fuller, as if he was too much to be contained in any limited space. She was stretched so much around him that she knew without a doubt that if he were removed her heart would crumble into nothingness.

But she could never allow Ichigo to suspect her true feelings, because he— Hichigo, was just ruthless enough to use the truth against her in order to coerce her to stay.

With a heavy sigh, Orihime sank down to the floor and pulled her knees into her chest in a way she hadn't done since she was a little girl. Somehow she had to survive the next few weeks. Just until Ichigo had his fiancée, then she would be packed up and shipped off to America.

()()()

There you have it, the Orihime backstory. Did I earn myself a review from all those AiHime fan girls out there?