Yay! Chapter nine is finally up! Thank you for your patience and also for your reviews.

Thanks also to my beta, Darth-Hawks32. (By the way, I hope those rabid Chappy the rabbit wannabes didn't ruin your computer by hopping on it XD)

And again, this chapter is dedicated to copper-chan!


Orihime woke up slowly the next morning. She stretched her limbs and started to snuggle back under the covers. Catching sight of her trunk, she froze. How could she be resting at a time like this? Her life was in danger and she could do nothing to save herself. Panic welled up inside of her, and she struggled to stay calm. It would do no good if she panicked. She had to stay calm.

Pushing the covers away, she wondered how she had ended up in bed. She was certain she'd fallen asleep on the floor. A blush crept across her face as she realized that Ichigo had probably carried her to bed. She stood up, cringing when pain ripped through her hip. She probably shouldn't have fallen asleep all curled up.

Orihime limped over to her trunk. She bit her lip. She would have to wash her clothes soon. She had worn all of these already, but she picked out a skirt and shirt that didn't look too dirty or wrinkled. Quickly dressing, Orihime opened the door a crack and listened for any movement. The redhead then moved down the hall into the living room. She paused in front of the window and stared outside. Judging from the position of the sun, it was around 7:30. I hope he doesn't get mad that I slept in. I can't believe how well I did sleep. I thought for sure that I would have nightmares.

Her heart nearly stopped. Here she was, standing by a window in plain sight of anyone passing by. With a cry, she sprung forward and yanked the curtains together. She began to feel the same panic that she had felt the night before. I have to be calm. If I panic, it's all over. I'll make a mistake, and that will be the death of me. The young woman drew in a shuddering breath. She could do it. As long as she thought about what she said, everything would work out.

Ichigo shifted on the chair. He was stiff and very sore from the uncomfortable position he had been sleeping in for the past five days. He kneaded the sore muscles in his neck, sighing. He missed his bed, but there was no way he was staying there with Orihime.

The front door opened. Ichigo stood up. "Rukia? What are you doing here?"

"I brought some of Renji's clothing." She held out a bag. "I figured he could use them."

Ichigo nodded and took it. "Is your brother here?" He asked flatly.

"No, he had some other business to take care of today."

"You mean you're here without an escort?"

Rukia lifted her chin. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

"No." Ichigo leaned back in his chair, his hands on the back of his head. "I don't care what happens to you. Your horse could throw you or you could get lost and I wouldn't miss you."

Her violet eyes flashed. "Care to say that again?"

The man lying on the bed, stirring slightly, groaned just then. Rukia's eyes softened as she stared at him. "How's Renji?"

"As good as can be expected. He should heal up nicely." His scowl deepened.

"You look like you want to kill me."

"Not you, but your brother."

"You want to kill Byakuya?" She cried out in alarm.

He said nothing, knowing all too well that if he were to open his mouth, he would let loose all his frustration on her. Rukia frowned at him, and then looked back down at Renji, a small smile on her face.

"I'll have to thank Renji sometime. Who knows? Maybe my brother will give him a bonus or even a raise for saving my life." Her smile faltered upon seeing Ichigo's face darken. "What's wrong?"

"He already did repay Renji for saving you. He fired him."

Rukia gasped. "What? There's no way Byakuya would do something like that! You're lying."

"He did, Rukia. I wouldn't lie about that."

She stared at him for a few seconds, and then focused her gaze on Renji. "...I see." She turned towards the exit.

"You're not going to say anything to him?" Ichigo raised an eyebrow.

"The reason I came by was to give you the clothes. Nothing more." She stated. "I have to go now before someone discovers I'm gone." She whirled around and headed out the door.

Rukia had only been gone for a few seconds before Ichigo grumbled. "Why did you have to save her life, Renji? Life would be so much better with her gone."

There had been a note on the kitchen counter telling her to go to the office when she woke up so he could make her some breakfast. But Orihime didn't have much of an appetite, so she nibbled on an apple instead. The house was dark since she had closed the curtains over each window, but she would rather stumble around in the dark than risk being noticed by her brother's murderer. There was one downfall of the darkness. It made her even tenser since she couldn't see that well, and she jumped at every little sound that she heard. Before she entered a room, she paused to listen for anything out of the ordinary. She was met by silence.

But even if he had found her and managed to sneak inside, what was to say that she would be able to hear him? After all, he wanted her dead, so he would be as quiet as possible. She hated the fact that she was so nervous, but she couldn't help it. He had killed her brother. He wouldn't hesitate to kill her.

A small voice in the back of her head told her that she couldn't keep this news to herself. What if she couldn't handle it on her own? What if she needed someone's help? But, she reminded herself, the fewer people who knew, the better. She didn't want any innocent people to be injured in her behalf.

Orihime tangled her fingers in her hair. If she kept thinking about her problem, she would go crazy. She had to think about something else. She had to keep busy.

She chewed on her lip, and then her face brightened. "Of course! I didn't get to finish cleaning the walls! And I'm sure that there are other things that need to be cleaned, too." She quickly found the cleaning supplies and dragged a chair into the living room. She hesitated, thinking about what would happen if Ichigo discovered her, but only for a second. She didn't want to dwell on it. Doing chores would be the distraction that she so desperately needed.

Clutter on the desk in the corner caught her eye. She wrinkled her nose. Perhaps she would clear that off first. She wasn't sure where everything went, but she could at least just make a neat pile. Humming to herself, she began to stack the papers, being careful to keep them in the same order she had found them. Once that was done, she smiled. Curiosity pulled her towards a drawer on the side. She knew it wasn't good to snoop around. She consoled her conscience by reasoning that she could tidy up the contents. Her fingers wrapped around the knob and she slowly pulled it open. Papers were stuffed inside.

"How can he stand his house being so messy? If Sora saw this, he'd be horrified." She grabbed the papers and pulled them out. Setting them on the desk, she reached a hand inside the drawer and felt around for anything else. Her fingers brushed against something metallic and cool to the touch. Frowning, she lifted it out and held it up for examination. Her eyes widened.

It was a gun.

She screamed and immediately dropped it to the floor. A hollow thud followed. She backed away, her body shaking and memories swirling around in her head.

A gun was firing.

She was screaming.

No. No. No! Orihime staggered backwards. Her hip protested the sudden movement and she collapsed to the floor. She pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. He owned a gun. Killers owned guns. Just like her brother's murderers.

What had she done? What had she gotten herself into? Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered the blood spilling from the wound in her brother's chest. Fear crept into her mind. What if Ichigo was one of them? He owned a gun, so he couldn't be trusted.

What should she do now? She drew in a ragged breath, pulling herself to her feet. She had to get that gun back into its place before he found out that she had discovered it. But she couldn't bring herself to touch it. Hysteria threatened to overtake her as she slumped against the back of the couch. What if Ichigo took out his gun and killed her in the middle of the night? If anyone asked where she was, he could say that she had left and gone back to Virginia, and no one would be the wiser.

Instinct told her to flee, but the voice of reason in her mind forced her to listen. If she ran, whoever was after her would only pursue her. Maybe if she stayed here, they wouldn't risk trying to kill her. After all, Ichigo was a doctor. Who knew when someone would come asking for his help? It would be too risky. Or so she hoped.

She would just have to be more careful from this point on. She would have to take note of her surroundings more often. But she could do it.

Steeling herself, she reached down and cautiously gripped the handle of the gun. As quickly as she could, she dumped the weapon back into the drawer, making sure that it was in the back just like before. Then she replaced the papers and shut the drawer.

The adrenaline that had pumped through her body now began to slowly fade away, leaving her feeling slightly weak. She wanted to sit down, but knew that if she did, she would only worry about her situation more. So she forced herself to keep busy.

Ichigo tapped his pen on the desk. There wasn't anything to do. He had already read the newspaper that Chad had dropped off. He heard Renji groan and glanced over.

"...What day is it?"

"Sunday."

"How long have I been here?"

"It will be a week this Tuesday. You've been in and out all this time. Sometimes you were more coherent than other times. Oh, yeah. Rukia stopped by earlier." He watched for any change of expression on his patient's face. There was none.

"What did she want?" Renji tried to rise to a sitting position, but the room began to spin around him.

"Easy, there. You've lost a lot of blood, plus you've been lying down for the past five days. Not to mention you haven't had much food or water, so you're very weak right now." Ichigo stood up and made his way over to the side of the bed. He helped Renji sit up, putting some pillows behind him to prop him up. "That should help. She brought by some spare clothes for you."

"That it?"

"Yeah." The doctor poured some water into a cup and held it to Renji, who took it and drank from it. "Slowly, Renji."

"I'm thirsty." He stated.

"You're feeling well enough to complain. That's a good sign. You're definitely on the road to recovery." Ichigo took the cup and placed it on the side table.

"When can I go back to work?"

Ichigo froze. He didn't want to be the one to tell Renji that he had been fired. "...Not for a while. The bull got you bad, Renji. Three months at the least."

The red-haired man sighed and leaned back. "I can't wait until then. There's nothing to do."

"Hey, you just woke up and already you're saying you're bored? Be thankful you're alive. If that bull had hit you an inch more to the right, you would have died on the spot. And nothing I could have done would have saved you." Ichigo grabbed the newspaper and tossed it at Renji. "There. Read that."

Renji looked at the front page. "The picnic was yesterday?"

"Yeah. It was a good one, too." Ichigo spoke. Besides the people staring at me and asking me questions.

"There's a picture here of you and that woman who claimed she was your wife." Renji said, pointing to a picture.

Ichigo scowled. That was the first thing he had seen when Chad handed him the newspaper. He hated having his picture taken. He couldn't remember seeing anyone with a camera, but that didn't mean that they weren't there. Whoever had snapped it, though, was lucky that Ichigo hadn't seen or their camera would have been smashed into pieces.

"I thought she would have left by now." Renji continued.

"She would have if I hadn't said she could stay if she wanted to. Turns out my dad was the one who sent the ad." Ichigo tried to ignore Renji's laughter. "You know," he finally said, "if you keep laughing like that, you'll tear the stitches. Or, at the very least..." Renji groaned, holding his stomach. "...Hurt yourself. Told you."

Renji took in a deep breath, wincing as he did so. "I'm okay."

Ichigo shook his head. "No, you're not. You're going to hurt for a while, but it would be best if you didn't do anything to aggravate it. I'll give you some laudanum. That will help."

"I don't want laudanum. What I want is food. I'm starving."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "I can't think of a time when you weren't hungry, Renji. You're like a bottomless pit." He sighed. "I don't want you eating solid foods yet. You can have some soup."

"That won't fill me up." The other man protested.

"Too bad. That's what you're getting."Ichigo rose and headed for the door. "I'll go make you some soup."

"Your wife can't do that?"

"She doesn't know how to cook."

More laughter followed by a groan of pain echoed through the room. "Your dad sure knows how to pick them."

Ichigo paused. He wasn't entirely sure what Renji had meant by that. He was about to ask him when the door opened and Karin nearly ran into him.

"Sorry." She muttered.

Her brother immediately picked up on the fact that she was upset and wanted to talk about it. After ordering Renji to stay in bed, he grabbed hold of Karin's shoulder and steered her outside. "Okay, what's up?"

"It's Dad again. He won't leave me alone. He keeps repeating that I have to act like a lady if I ever want some man to notice me. I don't care! I wouldn't mind being an old maid. Men only marry because they want to have sons to carry on the family name. That and they don't want to cook or clean for themselves." She crossed her arms defiantly.

"Oh, thanks, Karin. I'm glad to know that you think I'm a chauvinist man. Yeah, the only reason I married Orihime was because I was tired of cooking and cleaning."

"You clean?" She raised an eyebrow. "Don't make me laugh. Yuzu and I do all the housework for you."

"Okay, fine. I was tired of cooking for myself."

"You didn't mention anything about kids."

Ichigo glared at her. "Don't you remember what I said yesterday at the potluck? Kids are out of the question."

"You may be saying that, but Dad and Yuzu already have their minds made up."

Ichigo groaned. "Will he ever stop meddling in my life?"

"Nope. And now you know what I feel like. I should be wearing a dress or skirt, not pants." She rolled her eyes.

"You know, it probably wouldn't hurt to compromise a little. Why not just wear skirts when you go to town or have company over and wear pants at home?" Ichigo suggested.

Karin looked at him as if he had just lost his mind. "Are you serious? Ichigo, I hate skirts. I don't want to wear them and nothing you or anyone else says will change my mind." Her black eyes glinted with anger. "You men are all the same!"

Ichigo touched her arm. "Hold on a minute, Karin. I was only trying to help. It doesn't bother me if you wear pants instead of skirts. But if you want Dad to stop bugging you, then I would advise you to listen to what I said. That's the only way."

"Do you know what will come after that? The second I begin wearing them, he will go out and find some man who will marry me. I am never -let me repeat that- never going to get married." She stated vehemently.

"Never say never, Karin. I thought that, too, and look at me now." He pointed towards the house. "I have a wife in there."

"True, but it wasn't your choice to get married. The old man decided for you."

"Will you stop arguing with everything I say? It gets annoying real quick."

"Sorry."

He put an arm around her shoulder. "Don't worry, Karin. You'll get through this. We both will."

She nodded, but still looked unconvinced. "If you say so. Oh, by the way, why are your curtains closed?"

Ichigo gave her a confused look. "What? I opened them this morning after I ate breakfast."

"Well, they're closed now." She shrugged.

"What is she doing now?" He muttered, now irritated.

"I have no idea. Hey, I have to go now. I wanted to go fishing today, but Dad said I couldn't. I want to at least catch some fish before he finds me." She hurried off, waving good-bye.

Ichigo watched her leave before turning back to the house. He strode towards the door, his mind racing with different scenarios. Just what exactly was his wife doing in there?

Orihime squeaked as the chair beneath her wobbled. She held her breath, not daring to move until the chair was steady once again. Five seconds ticked by, and she didn't fall. She grinned. So far, so good. Standing on her tip-toes, she reached far above her head. She still had trouble reaching the top part of the walls, but at least she could get most of it.

She sneaked a glance towards the desk. She could see the gun in her mind, and feel it in her hands. Sora, I'm so scared. I don't know what to do. A tear dripped down her cheek and she impatiently brushed it away. She didn't have the time to cry.

Focusing once more on the wall in front of her, she neglected to hear the front door open and close, and the footsteps that, after starting to go down the hall, suddenly stopped.

"What in the world do you think you are doing?"

Orihime shrieked and lost her balance. She could feel herself falling backwards and was powerless to do anything to halt her fall. Squeezing her eyes shut, she braced herself for the impact. She hit something solid, but it wasn't the floor.

She tilted her head back and found that she was staring directly into a pair of brown eyes. It somehow registered in her hazy mind that she was once again in his arms, held tightly against his chest. For a moment, she relaxed. But then he opened his mouth.

"Didn't I tell you to stay off of the chairs? What were you thinking? If I hadn't been here, you could have killed yourself."

His voice snapped her out of her trance. He's going to kill me. I have to get away. She struggled against his hold.

That only made him tighten his grip. "Hold on. Let me make sure you're okay."

"No. Let me go. Let me go!" She screeched, flailing her arms and kicking her legs.

"Hey, stop that! You're going to hurt yourself." Ichigo scowled. What was wrong with her? She was acting like he was going to do something to her. "Orihime, stop it." He felt something wet drip onto his skin, and he glanced down. It was a teardrop. He blinked. She was...crying? "Orihime, what's wrong? Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, let me go!" Fat tears cascaded down her face as she attempted to break free. I can't die. Not yet! In desperation, she closed her mouth around the part of his arm that was closest to her face and bit down hard.

Ichigo swore and yanked his arm away. "What was that for?"

Orihime took the opportunity and escaped across the room. She looked back at him. He was still standing there, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. He took a step towards her and she, acting on pure instinct and driven by fear, bolted down the hall to the safety of the bedroom. Once inside, she leaned against the door, though deep in her mind she knew that if he really wanted to he could break it down in an instant.

Without warning, her body refused to hold her weight any longer and she slid down to the floor. She buried her face in her hands and let the tears flow.

Ichigo, meanwhile, rubbed the back of his neck while he stared at the mark on his forearm. He wondered what had gotten into his wife. Thinking back, he realized that she had seemed fine yesterday when he had last seen her awake. Then again, he had been in the office for a few hours after that. Maybe something had happened during that time frame.

Walking over to the hallway, he eyed the closed door. She was crazy. Maybe she had escaped from one of those mental institutions, he thought vaguely. That would be just his luck. He cursed again, slamming his fist on the wall. He had thought that everything was going smoothly, but this event caused him to reconsider.

After he had cleaned the bite mark, he left, not even bothering to knock on the bedroom door and ask if she was all right. He didn't care.

It wasn't until he was back in the office that he realized he had forgotten to make the soup for Renji.

Orihime's stomach growled, and she remembered that she had barely eaten anything at all today, save for the apple that had been her breakfast. She raised her tear-stained face, listening for any indication that Ichigo was still in the house, waiting for her to come out. There was only silence.

She shakily stood up. She still felt weak, but whether it was from fear or hunger she wasn't entirely sure. She made her way to the kitchen, using the wall for support. She noticed a pot sitting on the stove, and took off the lid. There was some soup inside. Her stomach rumbled again, and she was tempted to get a bowl and eat but didn't want to take any chances that he had slipped something lethal into it. After all, he was a doctor and had access to different drugs.

But in the end, her stomach won. She took a small sip, trying to identify a taste that didn't belong. She could taste different herbs but didn't have the knowledge to distinguish one from the other. As long as she didn't fall over dead, she supposed that it was okay to eat.

When she had finished, she washed the bowl and spoon and placed them back where they belonged. She hung around the kitchen uncertainly, trying to decide what to do. She nibbled on her lip. She was ashamed that she had reacted so badly when Ichigo had frightened her, but she had been so scared and so desperate. She didn't know if she could trust him anymore.

Was there anyone in this little town that she could trust? She didn't know, but she sincerely hoped that if there were any trustworthy people here that they would show themselves to her as soon as possible.

Before she drove herself insane with her worries and fears.