Ichigo remained fairly depressed over the weekend that followed the Friday of Orihime's disappearance. Saturday had passed, and he knew Rangiku probably filled out the paperwork for the missing persons report, but what good would that do? Orihime technically had only been gone two days, which was probably nothing compared to other cases the police dealt with. So for now, Ichigo had been left at home, half-hoping Rangiku would call him letting him know Orihime was home safe instead, but the other half dreading a call if something had gotten worse instead.
While he kept pretty upset for the majority of the time, he could still sense his sisters' sadness over his sulky attitude. He tried to keep up a smile around them when he could, but Yuzu and Karin were far too aware of how emotional he was over this whole ordeal. When they didn't show their sadness up front, they tried to hide it away from their brother just the same.
Come Sunday afternoon, Ichigo hadn't come out of his room for most of the day. It probably wasn't healthy to be alone, especially since this close person to him had so suddenly vanished, but he also wasn't in any mood to deal with his rambunctious father or his already fretting twin sisters.
Why haven't I heard back from Inoue again...? he wondered, grabbing his phone for what seemed to be the umpteenth time over the last few days, and flipping it open. His heart would always start to hammer in his chest whenever he looked at her last text to him, and gripping the edge of the desk with his other hand, he felt terrible for never responding back. He just wasn't sure of the message he wanted to get across to her. He cared for her deeply, that was for sure, but he didn't want to immediately place it as love, just because he was unsure of what love really was.
Rolling himself away from the desk, Ichigo began to eyeball the rest of his spacious room, his thoughts flowing in freely. If he could walk properly, would he have been able to protect Orihime better than he had before? He thought he wouldn't have been a better friend, a better boyfriend. Not just the "crippled kid", but the guy would protect his girl like he was supposed to.
Frowning, Ichigo spun his chair around so he faced the wide, open room in front of him. He wanted to move, to get out of this trap that was a wheelchair. But the only problem wasn't just his weakened legs, refusing to move, but he was the one to make himself this way. Had he not so stubbornly refused therapy after his legs supposedly recovered, he might be walking now. But he never had any reason to move on, figuratively and literally, after his mother died. There was just nothing important that he had to move towards.
Although, ever since Orihime came into his life, things had started to change, whether he wanted them to or not. Those walls he built before concerning his mother hadn't been entirely high, but on the inside, he built it up enough as to hopefully not feel the pain if someone were to bring her up, or even take her place. Orihime managed to slip through them like they were nothing, not only gaining a new spot in his heart, but Ichigo had actually been okay when he brought up his mother around her.
Grumpily, Ichigo latched onto his left leg and removed it from its stirrup, and the right leg soon followed afterwards, until both sat upon the flat ground. The slight chill of the hardwood floor could be felt through his socks, and it felt so odd, so different than the texture of his stirrups he usually kept his feet in.
Cautiously, he gripped the handles of his wheelchair, and with all upper body strength, Ichigo pushed himself from the seat of his chair. His hands lingered on the handles for so long, he was sure he'd accidentally sat right back down, but the new height of everything gave him a small rush of exhilaration. He'd still had something to hold on, with his hands and arms quivering slightly from the strength to keep him up, but he hadn't really tried to stand up like this before.
He knew he wouldn't give himself another chance like this again, to stand, or if he got lucky, to take a measly step, for a while. So he let go of the handles, and he could feel his legs shaking and tingling in a way he couldn't describe as neither bad nor good. He stood still for a good ten seconds, if not a little bit more, before his knees buckled underneath his weight and sent him crashing to the floor.
His face met that cold hardwood flooring, and a staggered sigh came from his mouth in frustration. He closed his eyes and he felt his body tingling in pain from the fall, but he didn't care. The anger at himself over his weakness only further made him wonder just how he could ever deserve Orihime. She had left and he couldn't even stand up on his own.
"Fucking... dammit..." he swore, pounding a fist into the floor. I'm so useless... he cursed in his head, his aggravation only growing more and more with each odd throb and pained twinge in his legs he would feel. They worked, they were supposed to, but his body wasn't allowing him to do such a thing.
Ichigo stayed on the floor for quite some time, brooding on his thoughts. Even if he wanted to go after Orihime, wherever she may be, it would take him twice as long due to his wheelchair, and that only frustrated him. Groaning to himself, he hit the floor one last time before inwardly apologizing to the girl he let down.
A sneeze startled her, causing her to jump from the man's loud noise. She was on a train out of town, a small backpack of her items in her lap, with her brother's killer at her side. His menacing blue hair and even more threatening eyes still scared her when he was awake. He was a loose cannon and she didn't know what to expect.
For now, he slept, due to the late train they caught, but she knew she wouldn't have much time until he would reawaken due to the train stopping yet again.
Orihime had sent her text to Ichigo no more than a day ago, letting him know of her status. She figured he was probably furious with her and how she hadn't bothered to tell him earlier, but he was the one person she didn't want to include in all this.
Already, she missed him so badly, and it had only been a day without seeing his face. Minus the small exception of the photo she caught with her phone a few days prior. He had been yawning when she took the picture, and even though he demanded and even tickled her to delete it, she hadn't, saying she wanted to keep it as a precious memory. She could only look at it now, remembering in all the times they shared, just as friends and now as a couple.
Glancing her tired, weary eyes up at the clock, Orihime saw she had just a few minutes left before the next, and final stop into Tokyo, which meant a few minutes before he would wake up again. He didn't know she brought her cell phone along, and she kept it off and tucked into the back pocket of another pair of pants she had, just so he wouldn't even think of that place.
There was one last text she had sent to him, and it was mainly because she feared she wouldn't ever be able to tell him again otherwise. The thought of never seeing him, her friends, or family again disturbed and scared her, but it was definitely hard to keep positive while sitting next to her brother's murderer. Orihime felt an odd sense of emptiness for not getting a response, but she also told herself her text was very bold and isn't unusual for him to not respond.
Flipping open the phone, Orihime looked at her last sent text and felt her cheeks heat up, just moments before the train was bound to make its stop. The intercom of the train came on, alerting its riders of the next, upcoming stop, and Orihime managed to turn off her phone and shove it back into her backpack before he snapped himself awake and snarled at her.
"You didn't fucking do anything, did you?" he questioned her harshly, and she whipped her head in the incredulous negative. Upon seeing her fear and timid shake of her head, Grimmjow believed her a little and relaxed into his seat again, but kept his eyes open this time.
Orihime hugged her backpack tightly as the train started to slow. She fought back that all-too familiar prickly feeling in her eyes, and rubbed her hand against her face to wake herself up a little more. Any sleep she had gotten on the extremely long train ride had been minimal and bad.
"Come on," Grimmjow's voice was harsh as he spoke, grabbing a hold of her arm and pulling her up to an upright position. Had there not been so many people around, he probably would've tossed her around carelessly as he led her to wherever he was taking her, but due to the amount, he settled on gripping her arm and leading her out. Orihime could only wince and bit her lip from yelping out from the tight hold he had on her arm.
Together, they zigzagged through the crowds, him leading her up the station platform stairs to busy streets. People passed by, all unknowing that the man that dragged her along was a killer, and had not only murdered her brother. There was bound to be others that had the same spending habits as her brother did, but a heavy shudder coursed through her at the thought of others dying from this man's hands.
A few more turns and the streets started to become less and less populated. They were wandering into a warehouse district, from the looks of it, with a few other buildings that looked like they needed to be demolished due to old age and carelessness.
Grimmjow stopped in front of an older apartment building with what looked to be a parking garage off to the side. It looked so dilapidated, Orihime started to worry if it would collapse on them any second. Her fear and awe was broken as he yanked on her arm again, dragging her indoors. "Quit draggin' your feet, bitch," he cursed at her, uncaring of her stumbling feet.
Orihime flinched again and did not say anything in return. Once they were led indoors, she found the interior to be much more renovated than the outside made it appear to be, and it definitely looked to be in much better shape than thought. She probably would've felt relief knowing the building wouldn't collapse, but she knew that was the least of her problems.
The letter from a few days ago hadn't given her much idea of what she was to do here in Tokyo, but Grimmjow's leader had known about her brother's tendency to borrow money, if not given Sora the money in the first place, and the letter was given to her as a warning and a calling. If she were to run away or try to get help, they would kill her friends and family. She made it too easy to determine who they were, by walking home with them far too much. So she was to meet with Grimmjow at the Karakura train station as soon as she received the letter. Frowning slightly, she wished she hadn't made it so obvious, but it's not like she knew she was going to be kidnapped.
It was a trip on the elevator and a few hallways until they hit a pair of black, shiny doors, something far too elegant for a place like this. Grimmjow pushed open the doors with one hand, and dragged Orihime in with the other. The room was faintly lit, only some of the sunlight pouring in through thick, similarly black shades. A man stood behind a desk, and his attention was soon turned towards the double doors and the two people that entered.
"Ah, welcome back, Grimmjow. I see you've successfully retrieved the girl," his voice was cold and sinister as he spoke, his hands travelling to unbutton the first few buttons on his shirt. Orihime swallowed thickly, definitely not liking his tone.
"Damn straight, Aizen," Grimmjow replied nonchalantly, suddenly tossing Orihime towards the center of the room, which meant closer to this mysterious person. "The bitch gave up like the weak shit she is." He cackled as he folded his arms across his chest. "The entire family was, come to think about it."
Orihime knew her brother was killed by this man, but why were they mentioning 'entire' family? A soft snicker came from the creepy man with dark brown hair and cold, brown eyes, and she immediately shuddered again under his thick stare.
"Orihime, do you know why you are here?" Aizen asked, walking in circles around Orihime with his eyes roving her entire body. How he had known her name as well, scared her, considering he was a complete stranger. She felt so disgusted, she hadn't wanted to respond to him, but she had a feeling things would be so very bad if she didn't reply.
"N-No, I don't..." she whispered quietly, a nervous stutter escaping her. He stopped in front of her, his previously enjoyed persona melting into a cold, demanding one.
"Are you aware of your family's money troubles?"
"Um... My aunt used to mention things here and there, and then there was that day..." She couldn't help but glance backwards at Grimmjow for a quick moment, whom gave her an all too knowing smirk. "T-The day Onii-chan died, I overheard him talking with the man behind me about money." Orihime knew his name, but she was clearly in a status very below him, there was no doubt he'd be unhappy with her.
Aizen smirked faintly, as if he realized something that pleased him. "Did you ever know your parents?" She shook her head in the negative and her face fell slightly at the mention. "They were money hoarders, just like your brother. That's what got them killed in the end."
Snapping up in confusion, Orihime's eyes were wide at the mention of killings, and in the back of her mind, she wondered if this was what Rangiku hadn't wanted to tell her in the past. Telling a child her parents were murdered just as her brother was would be such a graphic way to die.
"W-What do you mean killed?" Orihime's voice was frantic as the words just rushed out of her mouth. Aizen stopped her dead in her tracks as his hand cupped her cheek, cold just as his eyes were. She could've sworn she stopped breathing for a moment as his hand ran itself through her hair and mad its way down her neck and collarbone, eventually resting on the spot above her breasts.
"Your parents nor your brother was able to pay of their incredible debt to me while they lived," he spoke softly, his eyes running over her full form in a lewd fashion. "So you will stay here and pay it off yourself."
Orihime's heart was beating so hard in her ribcage, she feared she'd go into cardiac arrest. She only hoped she hadn't noticed it, if at all. "But... I don't have much money," she told him truthfully, barely getting the words out as his hand still threatened to travel elsewhere. She had an emergency fund she could pull from, if he wanted, but her spending money otherwise was very minimal. After all, she was just a single resident living in a lone apartment back home.
"You don't have to pay with money, Orihime," he told her, his voice thick with a now apparent lust. "You can pay with your body, and you will, I assure you." Freezing in her spot, she felt her knees go weak at his disgusting words, and she felt so sick to her stomach, she was thinking she was going to throw up. Aizen released her and looked back at Grimmjow in the back of the room. "Take her too her room, Grimmjow, and have another one of our employees take meals to her three times a day. I can't have her starving if she is to be..." He paused before smiling wickedly, but retaining his cold exterior about him. "Pleasuring me, later on."
Grimmjow nodded stiffly and grabbed Orihime's arm again. "Move it, you slut," he hissed, dragging her along. As she left the room, Aizen smiled amusedly, thinking for sure, he'd get his payment for loaning the Inoues' so much money this time. After all, Orihime was a much better prize compared to everything else.
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