A/N: Hello Everyone!
It's been so long!
Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews, faves and follows! They made me very happy.
Mugen – O.O Nice powers of deduction! You guessed right. :) Thanks for your encouragement and the review too.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or its characters. Duh.
Enjoy!
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Chapter – 10
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'What's wrong with him? When did he become such a yellow-bellied swine?'
Standing over the prone body of the orange-haired man was a short, blonde-haired girl in loose red pants and a matching red vest. Her weapon of choice, a simple pale yellow slipper was clenched in her hand.
One of her companions, a tall, lanky man with similar blonde hair sighed in mild irritation.
'Regardless of how strong he is, if you hit the back of his head he – '
He was cut off by a strangled cry.
'Ichigo!'
The man turned to see long, burnt-orange hair and wide, dark grey eyes.
'Well, well, well. What have we here?'
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A distinct cough interrupted the Princess's frantic thoughts and she looked up from her husband's unconscious body to face an odd group of people.
Apart from the short girl and the lanky man, there were other people who stood there, silently regarding her.
'Who the hell are you?' the blonde-haired girl demanded.
Orihime could do little else – let alone reply – but gape, aghast as Ichigo's unconscious from was unceremoniously tossed across the back of a nearby horse.
'Well?' the sharp voice repeated impatiently and the shell-shocked Princess swallowed as she turned to face her interrogator.
'Oh, me?' she chirped suddenly, forcing the fakest of fake smiles across her face, 'I'm . . . er . . . completely insignificant! No one at all.'
'. . . What?'
'Eh heh heh heh heh. Exactly what I said.'
'Is that so?' the blonde-haired man interrupted this time.
She threw in another fake grin for good measure.
'Uh-huh.'
And then she found herself surrounded by people once more.
'In that case, you should most definitely come along with us.'
His eerily cheerful tone left no room for argument.
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A throbbing in the back of his skull made itself known to Ichigo as he began to come to. That and the apparent mouthful of sand that had lodged itself in his throat.
Whoever knocked him out was going to be very sorry. Damn bastards.
'Errngh.'
'Good to see ya up, Ichigo!'
He sent a silent prayer to the Gods in heaven, wishing that he wasn't where he thought he was. A blink and a groan later, he recalled that the Gods had never really been on helping him out.
'Shinji.'
'The one and only.' The blonde man replied, his mouth stretching to a grin that threatened to split his face.
'Just you two? Where's everyone else?'
'Out.'
Ichigo forced himself to grit his teeth and not yell the man's head off.
'Why the hell am I here?'
A familiar but not-so-strong whack greeted the back of his head once more.
'Is that any way to talk to us after we saved your sorry ass from the assassins?'
The orange-haired man turned sharply to see the girl who'd spoken glaring down her nose at him. There was only so much a man with his sort of considerably short temper could take.
'Hiyori! What was that for?!'
'To knock some sense into you.'
'I should just – '
'As if you can.'
'Argh! I didn't need any saving anyway!'
'Tch. Such an ungrateful bastard.'
'I – ' began Ichigo, only to be cut off.
'Enough.'
'Shinji?' he questioned. The man had never actually bothered to interrupt petty squabbles before.
'There's a more important matter that you need to focus your attention on.'
Well, that much was true.
'Alright.'
'Glad you agree. Now then, who's she?'
All eyes turned to the woman he was pointing at.
Very interestingly, it was that moment that Ichigo's tongue took to freeze itself.
'Erm . . . er, ahem, that is Princess Orihime . . . my wife.'
'I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch the last part.'
The infuriating smile on his face told Ichigo otherwise.
'My wife.' He repeated, the vein pulsing in his forehead threatening to explode.
'My, my. You! Married! How very delightful. I think we'd all love to hear about how you of all people managed such a miracle.'
Ichigo clenched his teeth in murderous fury as the blasted blond man let out a small laugh, his twinkling eyes foretelling of the jokes that were to follow at Ichigo's expense.
He was in for a long night.
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The plates from their dinner had been cleared away and Shinji and Ichigo remained in the room. Orihime had been shown to the small, but comfortable room that she would be sharing with Ichigo and she had left to get ready for bed. Or at least that's what was supposed to be happening. She had gone back to get a glass of water and mistakenly overhearing a snippet of the ongoing conversation had her standing by door in the shadows.
Apparently unaware, the two men continued their discussion. Unlike before, Shinji now spoke to Ichigo with a somber face.
'It's the best alternative, really. Disappear forever and live out your days in peace. You don't have to go back and fight for nothing.'
'It won't be for nothing, Shinji.'
'Tch. You always were a noble idiot.'
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'You heard, didn't you?'
At his question, Orihime turned on her side to face him.
'Yes.'
They lay side by side on a thin mattress on the floor, wrapping themselves tighter in their sheets as the wind blew through the tiny cracks in the door frame.
'It would be much better for you to get away while you can.' Ichigo continued, 'You know the kind of hell you'll face if you come with me.'
'Even so, I want to.'
'Reconsider it. I can make up any excuse and Aizen won't really care. You're not important enough on your own for him to be bothered.'
'On my own?'
'I can't guarantee your safety if you accompany me to Sereitei as my wife.'
'I know, but I have to do what I can.'
'Do what you can to?'
'Defeated or not, I can't neglect my kingdom and my people.'
'I understand your sentiment but it's extremely dangerous.'
'If that's the case then why aren't you running away as well?'
A hesitant silence answered her question.
'I thought so.' She said simply.
The silence grew louder as they drifted off to sleep.
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'Ungh.'
A pained grunt awoke her and Orihime turned her face to find her husband's brow creased with anxiety as he agitatedly moved his face.
'A nightmare.' She concluded and placed her hand on his shoulder to rouse him.
She had barely shaken him when his eyes flashed open and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her over himself in reflex and they both stilled as her stormy gray eyes met his.
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So familiar. He'd never thought he'd be woken like this again. Still the same wide-eyed stare. Still the same pale, oval face. Still the same full lips glistening against the backdrop of her porcelain skin. Things were so different now and yet some remained the same . . .
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Seven years ago . . .
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He lay in a pool of his own blood, the acrid smell filling his nostrils and he could feel his life force draining out into the dirty ground beneath him. Pain lanced through him with every breath as he looked up at the slivers of sunlight shining down through the canopy of the trees around him.
He let out a short bark of a laugh. He'd been such a fool.
His snake of an uncle had sent him on a mission to Karakura as a spy, egging him on and taunting him with the over-used dialogue of 'How do you expect to be the Crown Prince of this country if you can't even accomplish that?' to get him to do this sort of work over and over. At a few months over fifteen, Ichigo was no stranger to such manipulations. After all, he'd been thrown to the mercy of ruthless soldiers for months since his birthday and every session of them tossing him around until his body screamed in protest had been called "training".
This time however, was slightly different. Just as he'd climbed over the walls that bordered the palace, he'd been attacked by assassins from Sereitei – given away by their clothes and because of course, he knew how they worked – and they'd slashed away at him remorselessly.
As one of them so bluntly put it – 'Nothing personal, but it's either your neck or mine.'
Against ten of them, he'd been a little more than useless.
When one sword left a gash in his stomach and the hilt of another was bashed against his head, he'd finally lost consciousness. When he woke up, he found himself lying under a thick grove of trees who knows where.
He wouldn't last long. He knew that much. And he didn't expect any saviors either.
His eyes closed on their own and he gave up on mustering the strength to force them open.
The rustling of leaves alerted him to the footsteps that came closer.
A gasp.
'Oh God!'
A girl's voice. He was glad for the turban that hid his hair and for the cloth that covered his face. His bright hair would make sure that she remembered him and he was hoping that she'd get disgusted at the sight of his wounds and leave. With no idea where he was, every person was a threat and a foe.
Unfortunately he felt her move closer and then she knelt next to him.
Trembling hands reached for him, trying to stop the blood from flowing.
'What – what happened to you?!'
Some sort of cloth – a handkerchief perhaps – pressed against one of the deep cuts and an involuntary cry of pain escaped him.
'You need help.' The girl said to herself.
No.
Just as she was about to get up, a hand shot up, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back.
He forced his eyes open.
Silvery gray irises met his sharp gaze.
'Don't.' he rasped and watch as the girl nervously swallowed.
She looked to be around his age with long, auburn hair and a pale complexion. Her face was tensed with worry.
'You need help.' She repeated softly.
'If you tell anyone I'm here, I'll be dead.'
Her eyes widened at his statement. If that was the case, should she even try to aid him? She blinked in shock as a harsh cough wracked through his battered body and he barely managed to turn his head to spit out a mouthful of blood. Whether it was sensible or not, she realized that she simply could not be heartless enough to leave him to suffer and come to a slow death. She made a decision.
'You can't stay here like this. There's an unused storage shed right behind the trees. . . '
She lifted his heavy arm over her shoulder and struggled under his weight as she somehow began to half-walk, half-drag him to the place she had spoken of. And he, hoping against hope, began to believe that she just might be his savior.
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A/N: Tada! There it is! Hope you liked it. Lemme know your thoughts and please review!