Title: Tainting the Roses Red

Authorial Notice:

Ehem… As it happens, I haven't had a whole lot of time to write lately, so updating has turned into a real bitch. What that means is that even though I'm trying to edit myself, there will be typos. Happily, there have already been typos throughout this entire thing anyway, so you probably won't notice.

Good god, that's lame. But I don't care, because update! Yay! Who rocks? Yeah, it's me.

Chapter Fourteen

Ichigo glanced up at the girl he was walking home. She seemed to be having some sort of conversation with herself.

His lips twitched as she hunched her shoulders, alternating between biting her thumb and wrinkling her nose. The gesture made her look impish and coy in a way he might find attractive if he was thinking about her like that, which he wasn't.

They were back to walking home together, which was a relief, partly because she really did need to be watched, partly because he had gotten used to it and missed it when it was gone.

She muttered something before blushing furiously, and then glancing at him over her shoulder. She smiled when she saw he was looking at her. More blushing. As she slowed to let him catch up, he watched her hair twirl in the wind behind her.

All in all, it was a curious phenomenon.

They had been walking in this same pattern for the last fifteen minutes. She would get lost in her own thoughts, start talking to herself, move ahead and then noticing, she would slow and let him catch up. It was oddly enticing, and even though he was curious to know what was going on in her head, he was starting to get dizzy.

From a few feet in front of him, Inoue looked over her shoulder again, and he reached out just in time to tug her out of the path of an impending light pole. She rewarded him with another one of those mysterious smiles she had recently developed, before facing forward again. Her skirt swished behind her and Ichigo was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm.

In the privacy of his head, his hollow snorted.

Ichigo cursed.

"Did you say something, Kurosaki-kun?"

"Uh, nothing important... You have a lot on your mind today." He turned the conversation quickly and watched the blush that lit up her cheeks. That got his attention.

Just what had she been thinking about?

To his annoyance, his hollow actually responded.

She's up to something.

The suspicion and weariness in the words caught Ichigo off guard.

The hell? How do you know?

Ichigo frowned and contemplated ignoring it, when an uneasy chuckling sprang up from the girl beside him. He studied her nervous movements for a moment, before realizing that he was genuinely curious.

Are you fuckin' stupid on purpose? I watch. She's up to something.

Ichigo frowned again.

It was Inoue. What could she possibly be up to? She was way too innocent to be tricky. More importantly, why should his hollow even care, much less sound anxious about it?

You got a short memory? Already forget about her feeling you up?

Oh, shit.

He had forgotten. He felt his cheeks heat up, before he forced himself calm; fighting it back.

Shut it. That was hardly feeling me up. And it's Inoue.

He was starting to feel like a broken record.

It was just some sort of mistake.

…right.

Beside him, Orihime chattered on, blissfully unaware of the verbal bludgeoning between him and his internal self.

"Oh, I was just thinking about…things." She waved her hands around in a dismissive motion. "Nothing important!"

He looked at her, taken back by the dismissal. Usually, the trick was to get Orihime to stop talking about her fantasies.

Told you, dumbass.

Ichigo scoffed mentally.

That doesn't mean anything…

"Like what?" He said out loud.

He tried to sound more relaxed than he felt. From the corner of his eye, he watched her tense up.

"Uh…uh…girl things!" Orihime nodded and visibly congratulated herself.

At her frightening proclamation, Ichigo forgot to take the next step and barely avoided falling on his face. When a girl said girl things, experience usually told him to run. He felt his hollow raise an eyebrow at his reaction, and he wished he could strangle the bastard.

What the hell are girl things?

Ichigo slapped a hand to his face.

Just… shut up.

He walked her up the steps of the apartment building and watched her search for keys.

With one hand fishing in her bag, she began mumbling again. Ichigo found himself surreptitiously leaning closer in an attempt to hear what she was saying, when she abruptly spun around with a determined glint in her eyes. He reached up and touched his nose to make sure it was still there.

"Say, Kurosaki-kun… could you… help me with my homework?"

When she fluttered her lashes, his brain stalled.

…up to something.

He ignored it. "Don't you have a tutor already?"

Orihime wrinkled her nose and scratched her head. "Dang it. I forgot about that."

She bit her thumb, looking cunningly thoughtful.

Alright, here's the deal. When she opens the door, push 'er inside. Then, don't let her out 'til we know what the fuck she's up to…

Ichigo spluttered. "What the hell? That's a terrible plan!"

In front of him, Orihime froze with wide eyes.

He flinched.

Dammit….Did he say that out loud?

You're such a retard.

He swallowed as Inoue leaned in close to his face, examining him as a bead of sweat made its way down the back of his neck. She looked back and forth between his eyes. For a split second, he had the irrational fear that she could see through him; see his inner hollow.

Then she blinked.

"I didn't know you were a telepath, Kurosaki-kun."

He was surprised his legs didn't give out.

...Huh?

She pouted. "Ahhh… that's so unfair…"

Ichigo walked through his front door and closed it quietly behind him, trying not to attract unwanted attention. Specifically, his father's unwanted attention.

Kicking off his shoes, he noticed a package on the ground under the mail slot and reached down and picked it up. It was slim and not too heavy. He glanced down at the name and wasn't surprised to see it addressed to his father. His eyes flitted over the sender and he dropped it like he had just discovered anthrax. It hit the floor with a dull thud.

He took a step back, just to be safe.

"Is that you, brother?" Yuzu walked around corner. "Oh! Is that it?"

Ichigo watched as his sister swooped down on the package, torn between throwing himself on it or away from it. He settled for motionless shock.

"It came! Oh, Daddy, it's here!"

She ripped the paper away to reveal a bright pink book with white flowers, then plopped herself on the couch and opened the book with another squeal. From the back of the house he could hear movement; probably his father. The cover of the book read, The Seductive Arsenal of a Strong, Confident, and Well-Adjusted Woman.

What the…?

"Y-you can't have that! It's a dirty book!"

Engrossed in her excitement she didn't even acknowledge his comment. The suggestive white flowers winked and glittered at him from the front cover. Ichigo fought the urge to be sick as his father came in through the kitchen.

"Oh, ho, ho! We got it, did we? Let daddy have a look…"

He gaped at his father, feeling his blood pressure rising to dangerous levels.

"You knew about this?" He waved an accusing finger in Yuzu's general direction. Why was it that the stupid man couldn't just do something normal? Or responsible.

His father scratched his chin and regarded Ichigo with a look that seemed to question his own paternity. "Well, she wouldn't have the money to buy it for herself, now, would she? Come, son... It's a modern world. It's what any father would do."

For a moment all he could do was stare in stunned astonishment.

Then.

"No, it's not! No one acts like this!"

"Brother, you're being very closed minded." Yuzu said, with a chilling quality to her voice he had never noticed before.

"What?" Surely, he had misheard.

"Don't worry my sweet daughter. He's just jealous that he will never make as wonderful a young lady as you do…"

He tried to ignore as much of that sentence as possible. "That book won't teach her how to be a lady! Damn it, are you listening to me?"

They had huddled on the couch with their backs toward him. He could hear whispering.

"Hey! What are you two talking about over there?"

Karen let herself in the front, soccer ball in hand, and took in the situation with a look of bored resignation. His relief at having backup was palpable.

Ichigo directed her attention to the couch with a pointed finger. And damn it, thiswasn't considered tattling. She looked at the huddled figures and then back at him again, not getting it; then arched an eyebrow as if to say 'so what'.

He felt his neck twitch toward his shoulder and wondered if that was normal for someone his age.

Somebody needed to take responsibility. Clearly, that wasn't going to be his father. He watched the old man giggling with Yuzu on the far end of the couch. From beside him Karen was giving him that look, which was probably a slight on his mental capacity. Which all things considered, he should probably be questioning himself, except…

"Damn it!" He stamped his foot in a display of his deep displeasure. "Somebody better tell me why Urahara is sending my little sister dirty books!"

The pencil fell from his loosened fingers and clattered onto the open textbook. He stared at the hand in front of him for moment before trying to wiggle his fingers. They wiggled. A fierce and manic grin curved his lips as he pushed himself away from the desk and stood.

The feet were trickier than the fingers, but he had little trouble coercing them to do as he wished. He tilted his head at the odd feel of his own weight. It would take some getting used to, but nothing he couldn't handle. After all, if that bastard could do it, he could. Besides, it would be worth all sorts of trouble if it worked out…and he intended to make sure that it did.

He spotted a mirror beside the closet and made his way over to it, concentrating on making the movement smooth. Standing before it, his reflection greeted him with an unnerving smile. It was perfect. He raised a hand and pressed it to his cheek before fingering the long locks of orange hair that hung just over his nose.

Looking into the face, Ichigo's eyes stared back, mahogany brown against milky white.

His grin turned feral, showing teeth. This was what he had been after. This was the ultimate goal, attaining control of the corporeal body. This was freedom. Now he could be his own master. That fool had underestimated him. Ichigo had assumed that it would be impossible for his hollow to take over this way.

He sneered. How he had ever fallen to such a pathetic and stupid king was beyond him. The boy lived in a fantasy world; a world where all his friends were happy and safe. And he truly believed it. Never acknowledging the danger until it was too late. Not focusing on how it could all come tumbling down at a moment's notice.

Well, he wanted it to come down. He wanted to watch it fall, never to be rebuilt again. He wanted to destroy everything, so that there would be no going back. So that he could see that stupid fuck, whimper and beg and break. And when he was finished with him, he would be so beyond repair, that he would never be able to regain control.

And he would start with the girl.

He pulled off the night clothes that Ichigo had put on after his shower and turned to the closet. The first shirt he pulled out was white. He frowned at it, before tossing it aside. He wanted color.

Finding a red, long-sleeved shirt, he pulled it over his head and threw on the first pair of jeans he found, growling at the restricting feel of denim. He looked back at the mirror and tilted his head. Something was still off. He frowned in concentration. A watch on the desk caught his attention and he slipped it on, and then ruffled his hair.

Perfect.

If anyone had asked Orihime, she would have said that she had known it was stupid to open the door. But in reality, she hadn't. Not really. She hadn't even been thinking about it. She simply heard a light rapping and had opened the door with a smile. If you had asked Orihime, she would have said that the knock had made her do it. She would have said it was a friendly knock; a happy little staccato rhythm tapped in time to her favorite humming song.

The truth was Orihime hadn't thought twice about opening the door. Not until she saw the orange hair. Not until she saw Ichigo's eyes.

She had only a moment to take in his relaxed, almost lazy posture before he was pressing her into a wall. The only thing Orihime knew right away was that even though his hollow was apparently good at playing him, this wasn't Kurosaki-kun.

He released her almost immediately. She slid away from the wall, seeing him step back and close the door with one hand, never taking his eyes off her. He locked it.

Swallowing, she tried not to flinch away as he came back toward her. She was so used to him moving quickly, that his slow approach froze her like a mouse caught in a viper's stare.

But something was off.

"Your eyes are brown…" She said, barely aware the words had actually left her mouth. The hollow's mask and eyes might have been frightening, but without them, she was easily distracted by his face. He looked too much like Ichigo this way. Orihime wished for the mask. The wall came up behind her again. He smiled down at her backed up against it.

"Didn't I tell you, Hime-chan? I'm not like those other bastards."

She closed her eyes at the sound of Ichigo's voice, dark and low, with a hint of barely restrained violence. This is not happening. He should not be able to talk with Kurosaki-kun's voice.

It wasn't fair. How was she supposed to be able to think straight? Opening her eyes, she saw him trailing one hand through the long locks of her hair, watching strands fall away. Meeting her eyes, he gave it a sharp tug, wordlessly demanding her full attention. Somehow he had gotten close enough that her chest threatened to brush his with every deep breath.

Reaching up with the other hand, he tapped a finger against the side of his head.

"That stuff is for weaklings. So I got rid of it."

It seemed he was capable of a fair amount of rational conversation, but his tone gave the distinct impression that he was playing with her head.

Reaching out, he brushed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, eyes carefully following it. She knew what would come next. Was disturbed by how much she wanted it. Carefully distracting, she asked the first question that came to mind.

"How?"

The hollow tilted his head, watching her. She couldn't read his expression, but there was a sharpness that made her wonder if she hadn't been as careful with her diversion as she intended.

He was toying with her.

The thought came out of nowhere, even as she looked down stupidly, to see his fingers playing across her stomach.

Or more like studying her, she realized, exploring every exposed patch of skin and whatever else about her that caught his interest. The hollow was analyzing her like he would size up an enemy or battle. He was learning her.

The thought sent shivers down her spine and raised the hair on her arms.

He smiled and without warning, caught her around the back of the neck, pulling her in and ensnaring her bottom lip between his teeth. Unlike the last time, he didn't hesitate. He took full advantage of her surprised gasp to deepen his assault.

Every time his mouth moved against hers, tingles sparked through her lips and down her jaw. His free hand came up to shove her back into the wall in a display of dominance she was sure was unnecessary. Orihime couldn't have fought it anyway. She heard her own whimpering, wild and uncontrolled in a way that should have scared her. But it only seemed to encourage him, and he forced her harder into the wall with his body flush against hers.

No longer needing to subdue her with his hands, they traveled, leaving devastating electrical currents in their wake. Splayed fingers slid down her stomach then around to grasp the curved flesh of her hip. She shuddered under it. Her light cotton tank and shorts suddenly seemed heavy and oppressive. His hand brushed the underside of one breast and she yelped at the spike of sensation, using his distraction to break free.

Orihime ducked under his arm and backed away, thoughtlessly touching her mouth. He seemed thrown by the interaction, like he needed time to process it. It dawned on her that all of this was new to him. It was new to her as well, but she had seen enough television and magazines to know at least some of what went on between a man and a woman. Not that she understood it.

Her foot slipped on something soft and plush. She had been watching him instead of her feet. Orihime landed on her backside with a thump. A couch pillow lay innocently under her legs and she frowned at it reproachfully.

There was a shifting in the air and Orihime looked up to see him watching her again, unwilling to have his prize out of sight. She recoiled as he moved; finally understanding that he had only let her go to draw out the chase. Now he was silently stalking her as she scrambled back.

"When we lose our hearts…" He answered her earlier question, shifting focus without missing a beat. "…we become purely visceral."

Crouching in front of her, he snared an ankle and used it to pull her toward him. The look in his eyes made something low in her belly clench and she hoped it was just fear. She wondered why he would even condescend to tell her these things. Fine tremors were spreading through her limbs and she was sorry she had ever asked.

"But see, I have this body and a nice little human heart all wrapped up inside, tucked away, safe and sound." While he spoke, he traced a finger slowly up and down one leg from ankle to mid-thigh. "Not that he would let me get at it..." He smiled a vicious smile and Orihime didn't ask why he wanted at Ichigo's heart. She could guess.

Grabbing her chin, he tilted her face back to look him in the eye. With the other hand he placed her palm over his chest. She could feel the warm pulse under her fingertips and everything clicked into place, even as he painstakingly explained it out.

"I don't need a mask. I don't need to eat souls. I'm pretty complete as it is, Princess. But trust me, that doesn't mean I'm not hungry for other things." His tone of voice made it clear what those other things were.

She slapped him hard across the face, snapping his head to the side. And he just sat there for a moment, silently contemplating his stinging cheek.

But before he could come to terms with her being capable of violence, she fled. Or at least tried to. She registered the iron grasp on her wrists even as they were hauled up and over her head. Flipping her onto her back he mounted her; letting Orihime struggle until she wore herself out and lay beneath him, panting and defeated.

When she had worked up the courage to look up at him, his eyes were closed and he was breathing hard. She thought she saw his lips move and realized he was counting.

"What, exactly…" He ground out between clenched teeth. "was that for?"

What she had been thinking at that moment now eluded her, but she was sure it was something she had read. She hazarded a guess. "My body isn't for your pleasure?"

He blinked, showing a surprising amount of restraint. Maybe she shouldn't have hit him.

He gave her a gleaming smile. "Is that so?"

Orihime felt her eyes widen. Or maybe she should have hit him harder. She didn't trust the look in his eyes or the feelings working their way down her body. She needed to get away.

Starting to struggle in earnest, she threw her weight back and forth, trying to wiggle out from under him. He picked her up by the hands and slammed her back down, smacking her head against the hardwood and effectively silencing her. It seemed like she had breached some sort of no hitting rule and now that she had, the gloves had come off.

While she waited for her head to stop spinning, he went back to work on her mouth with a new intensity. One hand still held her arms, but the other dug into her thigh and the flesh on her hip with bruising force, causing her tummy to clench with a surge of adrenaline. She felt charged and breathless all at the same time. Everything seemed too much…something. Her head ached, her breasts ached, and she was slowly becoming aware of a new ache between her legs. She writhed against the onslaught of too many sensations. Trying to alleviate her discomfort, she twisted up against him pressing her breasts hard against his chest, whining as her nipples dragged across him under her shirt.

Forgetting her arms, he grasped the flesh of her backside in his palms, using it to press her hard against him. She arched her back, and the dull ache twisted into searing pleasure.

Her hips were adjusted so that their bodies were brought further into intimate contact. She wrapped her legs around his hips reflexively and he thrust against her. With every surge she felt the hard press of him against that place between her legs, so forceful it was almost painful. He was growling, frustrated against her mouth.

Her eyes shot open at the brush of fingers against the entrance to her body. Pulling in a deep breath, she struggled to remember when that had happened. One long finger slid experimentally through her folds until he found what he was looking for. Dropping his head to her neck, he scraped teeth against her pulse point. A bolt of lightning shot from her throat to where his finger was pushing past the resistance of slick muscle, and she felt the air in her lungs stolen, even as she heard her own strangled cry.

A loud pounding at the door shattered the world and broke them apart with a lurch.

Orihime would have sworn that he snarled at it like an animal. It sounded disturbingly real even coming from a human throat. The voice on the other side tossed her the rest of the way out of her sexually flustered haze. She squirmed as he withdrew his finger, feeling heat creep up her face.

"Inoue… It's Yuri! Please, open up!"

Orihime flung herself into a sitting position at the sound of panic coming from the other side. The hollow had to jerk his head back in order to avoid a painful collision. She tried to scramble out from under him, but he wasn't moving.

"How did she know where you lived?"

Pausing in her struggle, she looked up to see him glaring at the door. "I… don't know. Does it matter? She needs help."

She tried to push against his chest, only to meet empty air. He made it to the door in two steps and jerked it open, moving to the side so that he wasn't immediately visible. Yuri rushed in and grabbed Orihime's hands, trying to drag her out the door, without preamble.

"Yuri, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" She tried scouring her for wounds as she was pulled toward the door, but the smaller girl was strong.

"They know where you are…" She shoved Orihime harder, from behind this time. Then she saw the hollow and froze.

He stepped out of the shadows with a menacing, narrow eyed gaze. "And who would they be?"

A/N

Did you like that? We got a little naughtiness in there. Well, if you did enjoy it, please let me know in the form of a review!

If you have never reviewed and are nervous or just need a good example, please feel free to check out a review by Luvtousall or Halfdemonfan. They are just some of the many people that make my world go 'round.

Child of the Ashes