Title: Tainting the Roses Red

Disclaimer: Standard

Warnings: Strong language and sexual references!

Chapter Ten

Orihime had barely registered her feet contacting the solid concrete rooftop before being released and she stumbled for a second trying to right herself. The corner edge and the steep drop beyond loomed like an open mouth in her peripheral vision.

Well, nowhere to run.

She knew better than to think it was a coincidence.

At this height, the warm night air flew unrestricted over the buildings. It whipped her hair into her face and back again before she could shove it out of her eyes. Here in the open she was exposed and vulnerable. The need to locate the danger was like a flare against the fog clouding her mind, burning with blinding clarity. She had to know where he was; had to see what direction he might attack from.

She spotted him on the other side of the roof. Cast in the glow of an orange security light, he stood watching her; motionless, except for the breeze that threw his shihakushou around him like a dark aura. The floodlight's glow lit his hair, turning it to flame and glinting on the blade edge of Zangetsu. It made him look predatory and demonic.

A shiver worked its way down her spine, despite the hot night. And the part of Orihime's brain that was still capable of rational logic told her that there was no way a person should have been able to move that fast. Reaching a single hand up, he pushed aside the mask and it vanished in a puff of dark red riatsu.

She stiffened when she saw his face, surprised that he looked so much like Kurosaki-kun and yet, not at all. Even this far away, she could clearly make out the intensity of the look that was studying her.

Orihime stood silently, trying not to breathe or blink or do anything that might set him off. She knew he was volatile, reacting to the slightest provocation. Fighting another shiver, she clenched her fists instead, digging fingernails into her palms until in hurt. That was good. Pain was good. It would help her stay in the moment and drown out the panic in her mind screaming that she was going to die.

What now…?

Was he really going to kill her? It didn't seem like it. He hadn't moved or made any attempt to threaten her. Not that that comforted her at all, considering how fast he could move. Yet, he still stood there, looking silently pleased, about who-knows-what, and giving off the intimidating air of a lazy yet slightly sociopathic tiger; the kind that might bite your head off, without notice, just for fun, or to see if people really do taste like chicken.

Although to be fair, he had rescued her in the first place, hadn't he? Or had that been Kurosaki-kun? She wasn't sure… It had seemed like Kurosaki-kun, but… he had been off, different. His riatsu had been so dark… that's why she hadn't realized right away that it was him holding on to her.

She shook off the guilt of attacking him. It wasn't the time to be thinking of that. Not when real danger was staring her down like an executioner.

She licked her lips.

Why was he just standing there?

Her anxiety was crushing her like a weight on her chest. At least if he did attack her, she wouldn't have to keep thinking about when he might do it.

She couldn't read anything in his eyes. That's what bothered her the most. Ichigo's eyes were expressive. They contained a world of thoughts if you knew how to look at them, but the Hollow's eyes were dark as obsidian and held a wicked glint. They gave nothing but surface emotion. They hid his thoughts as effectively as any mask she had ever seen, human or hollow.

The wind whirled into her face again and she had to shut her eyes against the sting of it. When she opened them, she could have reached out and touched him.

She gasped, taking a step back, before remembering the ledge behind her. She clenched her hands tighter, not sure if it was to stop from reflexively throwing up a shield, or to stop a scream. She had a distinct feeling that either would have been a mistake.

Then he tilted his head to the side and smiled, and it scared her more than anything so far, because Ichigo did not smile like that.

He stood watching her scrutinize him from across the roof top. She trembled once or twice and he could practically hear her thoughts, her fears, and even her goddamn baseless hopes. And those, he knew, were so deeply ingrained in her she probably couldn't even help it.

It was delicious…

She clenched her hands tightly, and he could sense, more than see, her blood flowing. His eyes dropped to her small white fists. He wanted to look at it, and wondered remotely where that thought had come from. He knew what blood looked like. He had seen lots; spilled lots.

No, it was more about the idea of her blood and the cutting of her own flesh that appealed to him. And since he always did what he wanted, there was no reason to second guess himself now.

When he came to a stop in front of her, she staggered back, clearly hoping he would have stayed on his side of the roof. He took a moment to measure and enjoy the startled fear flashing through her eyes, watching their light momentarily flicker, before letting his gaze appreciatively travel the rest of her.

Her fists tightened again and he knew there would be more blood, but she held her ground, bit her lip and stiffened her neck looking every bit the martyred, if still yet frightened, princess her name implied.

The wind whipped her hair around her slender frame and heaving chest and for a second he was distracted at the play of light against each strand, even though he knew that was the thought of his other half. He felt his own smile.

Well, if she was going to stand there and offer herself up like some sort of royal virginal sacrifice, he would be more than happy to play the hungry dragon.

She flinched when he took her wrist, but made no attempt to move away or take it back. Smart girl… He really didn't want to have to tear it off. Mostly, because it had taken a bit of his hollow pride to save her in the first place, which was something he didn't do. Well, that is, if it had been anyone else, but this one was his; his that he had saved, at his own expense. Repeatedly. It was a matter of supremacy. Any other stupid fuck that thought they had a right to kill what he had saved, had to die, preferably in a demoralizing and painful way.

And then there was also the fact, that she just looked better with it attached.

He pulled her hand up to just below his chin, palm first, and he felt a little tickle of pride when she uncurled her fingers and watched him with stormy, uncertain eyes. He rewarded her with a wicked grin, showing his teeth.

It wasn't much blood, hardly any at all, just a few drops in the palm and on her fingers. It was mesmerizing though, deep red against the pale flesh of her palm. He toyed with the idea of drawing in it, before he gave in to a much stronger impulse.

He watched her eyes as he drew her index finger into his mouth and sucked the blood from it, resisting the urge to bite down. A deep growl rumbled low in his chest at the taste of her and he swallowed it back, looking up into her eyes through his counterpart's orange bangs, gaging her reaction.

Her eyes were cloudy, her emotions in turmoil. He took his time to decipher them out, as he moved on to the next finger. She was shocked and definitely discomforted. Not by his actions though, he was a monster, and she expected him to act like one. More than likely, it was her own response that had her so bothered.

He could see it there, beyond the frightened exterior. Beyond a dozen other twisted and convoluted emotions, there was a flicker of desire. She didn't feel loved or safe or cherished or any of the other things she had been taught equaled desire and yet, she wanted anyway. She was young and chaste. He could tell his princess was un-touched.

Her body was a swirl of hormones. She didn't understand it, he knew, and it was incredibly provocative.

He released her last finger and she seemed relieved, until he lowered his mouth to her palm. She tried to pull back then, very slowly, almost as if she expected him not to notice as long as she was quiet about it. He wanted to laugh. Instead he let out a growl, a low, one-time warning sort of deal. He added a glare for good measure and she went still.

He lowered his head back to her palm and licked away the last traces of blood, letting his tongue linger longer than was strictly necessary before dropping her hand. It shook by her side, giving him a smug sense of satisfaction.

Prey could be crushed, killed, and mutilated any number of ways, all while they cowered, trembling in fear. But to be able to make them want it; to wrap them up and twist them around, until up was down and sideways was crossways, until in the end, when they know what's coming and they wanted it anyway. That was the work of a master.

He smiled, realizing that she was working herself up for something. He waited, flexing his neck; relishing the dull ache of his own abused flesh.

"What...?"

She paused, swallowed and tried again. "What do you want with me?"

He answered almost as soon as the question was out, anticipating that she would ask something along those lines.

"Now that's just rude, Hime-chan. Isn't it polite to at least say thank you after someone's just saved your life?"

He made sure to lace his voice full of saccharine sweetness, giving her a smile that made her shiver and drop her eyes. He watched her stare at her feet, her brow wrinkling in confusion at his words, struggling between good etiquette and common sense. But he didn't want or need to hear it. He had done it for his own motivations, after all.

"Your brother would be so disappointed."

Her head snapped up; anger flashing in her eyes.

A small flicker of excitement shot down his spine at her infuriated look. Usually her anger came and went quickly, like it hadn't even happened at all. It wasn't easy to get her riled up. He gave himself a mental pat on the back. This would be so much more fun if she fought back.

Although, it seemed she knew right away that he was baiting her. She looked away, and he narrowed his eyes, not particularly liking the fact that he had been dismissed so easily. Maybe he should step back, before he was tempted to smash her pretty face.

But she was already continuing.

"Why did you do that? You saved me. And before…that was you wasn't it? On the dome…?" She trailed off, unable to clear her thoughts when he was so close. She shook herself and tried meeting his dark eyes.

"Why?"

He snorted. "Are you complaining?"

He turned toward the edge of the building and tilted his head to watch her out of the corner of his eye.

She frowned, wrinkling her nose in a way he knew the king secretly liked, but still not answering the question. He concluded reasonably quickly, that he wasn't a very patient person. He stretched out one arm, almost idly and pushed her sideways off the side of the building. At the last moment, he caught her by the wrist, letting her dangle mid-air.

She screamed before realizing that she hadn't fallen to her death and did the one thing that could make the situation worse; she looked down. Gasping and panting, she tried to grab at his other arm, pleading with her eyes. He smiled. She really could be entertaining.

"Is there something you wanted, Hime-chan?"

"P-pull me up!" She looked down at the eighty foot drop again before squeezing her eyes shut.

"What's the magic word?" He looked at her sternly, making sure to take his time. After all, it wouldn't do for his princess not to appreciate him thoroughly.

"Ah…Please….? Please!"

He hauled her back up and let her go, not caring whether she had her balance or not. She didn't. She warbled over the edge before grabbing at the only available anchor, his shihakushou. She blinked a few times, as if she were shocked to have been manhandled in such a way.

He couldn't decide whether a smile or a growl would bother her more, so he settled for an insufferable smirk. It seemed to have the desired effect, because she blinked again before adopting an annoyed scowl.

Once again, the fire of her irritation brought small stabs of desire down him. He watched her catch her lip between her teeth and he itched to know what biting that full lip felt like. He frowned at the idea, wondering if it had really been his.

Hollows didn't kiss. They didn't make love or fuck or whatever humans called it. They just didn't. A hollow was full of only the basest drives. And for most, there was nothing but the hunger, everything else was just a device to achieve that mean.

And yet, he did want to. Intensely.

He tilted his head, in silent contemplation, but found no answers readily available. Tch. Whatever... He always did whatever the hell he wanted, anyway, besides… his princess was special. It wasn't like she would break from a little rough handling.

It had taken him a long time to figure out whatit was about her that had caught his attention. At first he thought that it was because the king wanted her. He thought he had just been helplessly pulled into another one of his desires. Made sense, he supposed. His other half was still stronger in will, after all. So he had resisted on principle.

But he had waited, and he had watched her… and he had finally isolated exactly what it was that had him so fixated.

It was the purity.

Her heart was pure, and as fluid as light or water or air. All of the things humans never bothered themselves to think about, but still everything they couldn't live without. Her heart gave under pressure, but it flowed back, undamaged. For a creature like him, it was the equivalent of a feast.

He knew how to take his enemies' lives; begging or brave, it didn't matter. Mighty or weak, it all looked the same on the ground covered in blood and defecation. But his princess was special. Her life couldn't be taken, because she gave it freely and that was her strength. Not power, because power came from pain; it came from suffering and the desire to end that suffering at any cost. That was fundamentally what made a hollow, and what made a shinigami for that matter. Having power was easy. Strength came from an unbreakable heart. He could break her body, but her spirit was untouchable.

He licked his lips slowly.

That was the truth his retarded alter-ego knew, even if he didn't know he knew it. The other one had known it also, the fourth espada, that stupid winged fuck he had slaughtered. It had been on his dying breath, those words. And that was the truth that Aizen had realized. He had even tested it; observed it up close, just not too close, because in the end, her power was subtle, but fearsome. Her power stepped on the toes of god, to create and obliterate; to accept or reject. His princess was special. And that alone made her worthwhile.

But he would sure as hell be damned, before he started spouting that sort of poetic sounding shit.

Orihime clutched at him finally getting her balance back. She couldn't believe he had just casually tossed her off a building. And just to get back at her for not being properly grateful. That was just…childish. And now he had the audacity to stand there looking amused about her human frailty of needing both feet on the ground to be able to stand; something he apparently didn't need, considering his ability to fight midair. Stupid hollow.

And why were her hands tingling?

She looked down to see them still firmly twisted in his clothes and against his person. She snatched them back, hiding them behind her. Dumb hands, what were you thinking? He could have bitten you off. Not that he looked like he wanted to. He was staring at her lip between her teeth. It didn't seem to bother him at all that she had caught him looking at her lips, either.

He extended one slightly clawed finger under her chin, and used its sharp tip to draw her closer. She swallowed, feeling butterflies flutter deep inside her belly.

What…? He's not going to…

He moved forward with methodical deliberateness, as if conducting an experiment. Her stomach coiled in a funny way that made goose bumps on her arms, and she wasn't certain if she shouldn't be doing a better job of resisting his attentions. Not that she thought it would do her any good if he had his mind set. Her body gave another involuntary shiver as he tilted her head up and leaned in to her.

He caught her lip between his teeth and almost painful tingles of electricity shot through her lips and down into her chest to that tight, warm place in her belly. He sucked it and sparks flashed behind her eyes. She drew in a sharp breath, eyes flying open, and she wasn't sure when she had closed them.

She pulled away and took the only step back left, before coming up short.

She had to get away. She might not have a lot of experience, but she knew feelings like this were dangerous. But there was nowhere left to go, unless she wanted to jump… and if he tried something like that again, she might need to seriously start considering it.

She stared at him wide-eyed.

He looked slightly dazed as if he hadn't known to expect that, before his face adopted a scowl and for a moment he looked so much like her Ichigo that she felt tears sting her eyes. He was bothered by the kiss. He hadn't said it; hadn't moved, but she had seen Ichigo frown like that.

Maybe, he just had too many unexpected feelings to process. He was a hollow. His way of dealing with unexpected things could usually be expedited by killing everyone involved. So it shouldn't have been surprising that he wasn't sure what to do about something like this.

Wind ruffled orange bangs fell over his eyes and she itched to push them back. She didn't.

She felt bad for him. She wanted to say something, tell him it would be okay, even if he had bullied her and frightened her a little… Well, a lot actually, but she had had worse; had forgiven worse.

And besides, if she tilted her head a certain way, he looked terribly vulnerable.

She didn't realize she was reaching out to him until his head snapped up and something violent and ugly flashed through his eyes. Then he was gone and the wind his body had been shielding her from blasted her full in the face. It made her splutter and wobble for a moment before she stumbled forward, away from the ledge and any chance of an early and accidental grave.

She collapsed to her knees, shaking from overwrought emotions, most of which she was sure she would need heavy therapy just to identify. She looked around, wondering if he was still there somewhere, but found the rooftop completely barren of any Kurosaki-kun shaped objects.

She replayed what had happened and the look he had given her. Had he been upset that she had wanted to help him? It seemed like it.

She frowned. What kind of sense did that make?

He had pushed every button she had, clearly enjoying it. He had practically kidnapped her… insulted her brother's memory... licked her blood—which she was not going to think about again, ever... thrown her off the building….and then kissed her.

None of it made any sense.

Then, as soon as she had decided he might not be a lost cause, bad and terrifying, yes, but maybe not unredeemably evil, he got mad and left her here.

…And where was here?

She didn't even see a stairwell. She scrunched up her nose, wishing she could yell or stomp her feet and throw a fit. She wouldn't', but she really wanted to.

And he scared her.

She didn't even want to think about what he might do if they ever met again. That look he had given her wasn't really a confidence booster. So far the only predictable thing about him was that he was guaranteed to do the most unpredictable thing possible.

Well, that figures…

And how the heck was she supposed to get off this building?

This time she did stomp her foot, telling herself that the next time she saw him, she would tell him exactly what she thought of being left up here. She edged around the building for a half hour before she found a fire escape that she could safely jump down to, and even after she had climbed all the way to the ground she was still fuming.

He hadn't even played fair.

Orihime sighed, looking for a street sign. She was having one of those terribly disconcerting feelings that she had forgotten something important, but after a few minutes of trying to remember, she gave up and opted to head home. It would take her at least thirty minutes to walk all the way back to her apartment. Not that she was sure she could just go home…If Ichigo's hollow was in control, then who knew what he might be up to.

She frowned and considered going to the Shouten before pushing the idea to the back of her mind. Ichigo was usually very private with his hollow problems. He probably wouldn't want that unless there was no other available option. She reached out with her mind, trying to feel any trace of the darker spiritual pressure of his hollow and was surprised to find it close. Very close.

She looked around and wasn't even slightly surprised that she didn't see anything. She wrinkled her nose and began to walk, hoping to get a better feel of exactly where he was. It moved and she realized that it was coming from above her somewhere. Was he following her?

The spiritual pressure was faint, almost like he was purposely suppressing it, which figured; otherwise everyone would have felt it and come running.

She wondered if they had. She wasn't sure what she would say if they asked her. She didn't want to betray Ichigo's confidence if he didn't want others knowing about this. And it wasn't really like she could just go blabbing about his hollow stealing kisses from her.

Her face flamed up into a blush.

She shoved the thought away, determined not to think on it and tried concentrating on the task at hand.

Although, it turned out that she needn't have bothered, because after a few minutes she realized that he was following her. She never figured out exactly where he was, but he stayed behind her until she reached her apartment and was gone before she had locked her door behind her.

She let out a long sigh after she was once again tucked safely back into her apartment and tried to let herself relax. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since lunch that afternoon. She was halfway through a leftover rice ball, when she remembered what it was that had been bugging her. Her food fell from her loosened fingers and bounced across the floor.

Yuri-chan.

She had run off after Orihime had been caught. There was no way to know where she was now or if she was safe. What if the handsome man had found her? There wasn't any way to know. Orihime began to pace a short panicked line between her living room and kitchen. She needed Kurosaki-kun, but…

She grabbed the ends of her hair, pulling it in frustration. Why wasn't she better at these things? Hadn't she already said she would get stronger so that she wouldn't be so useless in these situations?

She stopped walking. It didn't matter. She might not be a very good fighter, but that didn't matter either. There was no way she could just leave a little girl alone to fend for herself.

She went to her closet, and pulled out her coat and her best athletic shoes. She would look for her alone if she had to. Kurosaki-kun had his own problems to deal with; she wouldn't be able to lean on him this time. She locked the door behind her and turned, heading down her stairs and back into the night.

A/N

So… I've been wrestling with where the story will go and if you didn't notice we didn't quite hit an M rating on this, and to be quite honest it's probably for the best. Although, I had started out with those intentions, but at this point I think it would have just seemed forced. Anyhow, I revised some things and rearranged and blah, blah, blah I'm boring myself talking about it. Bottom line, if you want to know what's going to happen, you will just have to wait and see. Capiche?

Fantastic!

Thanks again to everyone that reviewed –

Recchinon- Lol, I know you didn't say it sucked; I was taking artistic license :) So sorry to make you wait for the next chapter! I'm seriously in your debt for all the awesome feedback I get from you. You are the best! Also, how about that volcano? How did that go?

Not So Anonymous- Thank so much for your honest feedback! It's good for me to hear that I might not be as clear as I mean to be. I'll try to answer all the questions you had. I didn't skip a chapter; I just think maybe I wasn't clear about the passage of time. At the beginning of chap 8 several days had past. Ichi makes a note of this, but it was a very small one.

As for the kidnappings, this is something that has been alluded to in almost every chapter. However, once again, perhaps I was unclear.

And then last, Yuri is the tutor that was assigned by the teacher back in chap 6. They also had a session together in that chap. Now I will say that they are not best friends. Orihime is simply being her friendly self and she is dealing with a younger child here. She is simply talking down to her like most adults talk to small children. In fact, if you remember, she begins the walk in a bad mood because she would much rather be walking with Ichigo.

So, yeah, I should have been clearer about that stuff. I might go back in at a later point and revise some of that stuff to be more apparent. Thanks again for all your comments, because they are very helpful!

Halfdemonfan- Oh, my… you make me blush… I love getting reviews like yours, because they always put a big smile on my face. And no worries, I don't intend for this to be a non-consent type of story, however… we aren't through it. So, no promises…

I'm so glad you liked that about Inoue's freaking out and rejecting the bad guy, cause to be honest, I wasn't really sure about it… So… Yay!

Somerlia- I'm guessing you don't like cliffies. :) You'll have to wait and see…

Nypsy- What would I do without you? As always, you are quite perceptive! I love your questions, but sadly, it would pretty much kill the story if I answered them…

Also, sorry about the wait on the M rating… I just know that people are going to royally filet me.

I'm seriously glad for all the great input you have, Thank you so much!

- I'm sorry if I've been confusing. Check the post up above I left for Not So Anonymous and see if that answers any of your questions. If not, could you let me know where I lost you? Thanks!

Skullex- Thank you so much! You are so sweet!

Maggzieofhyrule: Thanks so much and I'm sorry for making you wait! I love Zelda! I have the wings from Ocarina of Time on my back with a crescent in the center. It's nice to find someone with such good taste! :)

Chuain- Your review had me laughing out loud, because to be honest, I do think our little strawberry headed hero is a bit of a masochist… Also, nice observation on Orihime and Ichi's hollow. Seems our poor little Hime is having a few Post Traumatic Issues…

Authorial Notice:

I'm not sure if I'll have time in the story to explain this, so I'll put it here for everyone.

One of the things about PTSS or PTSD, if you prefer, is that after you experience a traumatic event, it causes a severe adrenaline response, which create deep neurological patterns in the brain. These patterns can persist long after the event that triggered the original fear, making an individual hyper-responsive to future fearful situations. I believe this is what we were seeing in the Hueco Mundo arc, and why our cute little Orihime turned into really-super-freaked-out-all-the-time Orihime. Anyhow… In some cases the individual may develop psychological connections between the original stimuli and other fear inducing situations (like, for example- Icigo's hollow) which results in phobia's that may or may not have anything to do with the original stimuli.

Or to put it simply, she is afraid of her loss of control; most likely, because she can't reconcile taking a life. She cannot even fathom the desire to do so. She has no point of reference to understand her own actions, and has therefore, related it to Ichigo's loss of control and the hollow inside him, which is the only example she really has. So, because it is the closest to her own situation and feelings; she has rationalized a fear of Ichi's hollow.

I really hope that clears some stuff up…

Thanks for reading and reviewing! You guys make my little corner of the universe go 'round!