…
…
Sunlight.
The first thing Orihime noticed was the light. It was truly a nuisance, somehow making all of her five senses drown out. Even her ears were roaring. Timidly, she fluttered her eyes open, only to shrink away at the overwhelming intensity. She waited a few seconds, watching as the sunlight painted her eyelids red, and then peeled them open once more. It wasn't as hard as last time, but when she even managed to move her neck, she realized her current situation.
"…Eh?!"
She didn't dare move an inch. Under her ear, she could hear the slow, calming lull of his heartbeat. Instantly, she could tell it was him from the scent, the hard muscles, the length of his body, and the way her own started to react towards him. Daringly, she clenched her fists in his clothes, on his chest, as she listened to the sound of his heart. It was almost like a lullaby and it made her eyelids feel heavy.
What is he, she yawned, doing in here, anyway…? I wonder.
And then last night flashed through her weary mind.
She inhaled sharply, eyes snapping open, and her heart spiked. She could see it clearly now—the nightmare, the tears, his embrace, his breathy words, his lips on hers, his sweltering heat, his demanding fingers, her silent, needy cries, her toes curled, light burst, and then—
Oh, Kami-sama…
Panting, she licked her lips. Just thinking about it made her breath catch. Suddenly, her body felt different, foreign. Her breasts felt heavy, her clothes felt too constricting, and the hidden place was pulsing with warmth and need. Whimpering, she tried to sit up, but her aching muscles protested. It was odd, she was sure she hadn't—well, done that with him. With a fiery blush, she slowly released her death grip on his clothes, and made one last attempt to sit up.
And that was when his hips lifted and pressed firmly against hers.
She gave a loud, startled cry at the fierce pleasure. Startled, she looked at his face. He was closer than she had thought, and she gasped as she met his intense eyes. Keeping their gazes locked, he moved again, this time with a sharper angle. Orihime's lips parted, and she tried to bite back the keen attempting to leave her throat. A boyish, handsome smirk crossed over his face, and she watched as he sat up, slinging an arm over her waist. Her legs practically fell open for him, something that frightened her—the way she reacted to him so swiftly, willingly.
Heat gathered in her belly, demanding for some sort of release. Again, she was confused. This was what happened last night, this same feeling. It was overwhelming in its intensity, enough to make her tremble, enough to make her heart still and her brain to go blank. She tightened her grip on him, desperate to be closer to him, wishing for skin on skin, wanting that imperfect hot skin that she suddenly wanted to bite and lick and find each and every scar and flaw until she was satisfied.
Ichigo seemed to match her passion. He tightened his clutch around her hips, an almost feral, dangerous look in his eye. When he kissed her, she was startled, gasping into his mouth, and he took that chance to delve in, taking what he wanted. His tongue met hers in harsh strokes, and she was practically a mess when they parted. A thin trail of saliva stuck to their lips until it broke away.
Ichigo stared at her dazed expression – swollen lips, carnal, spice-brown eyes, and rosy cheeks. And all his. And now it was time to show her that. He fisted her luscious red-gold locks in one hand and pressed her closer with the other. Her full breasts pushed into his chest, and he groaned deep in his throat, trailing quick, hard kisses down her milky neck to the skin of her shoulder. Her kimono's sleeve fell away, and he took that chance to wipe his tongue over the flesh and then close his mouth over it, violently desperate for the taste of her skin.
Orihime cried out, digging her nails into his shoulders. She clawed away his top, and he released her only for a millisecond to toss it somewhere across the room. And, damn, that felt so much fuckin' better as she pressed her palms into his shoulder blades before burrowing her nails in harshly, keening when he licked down to her ample cleavage.
His scent, his warmth, his heart—she wanted it all. Every single last bit. Frantically, she clutched him closer, wishing to commit this to memory, wishing for this moment to last forever. To be with him forever.
Last night flashed again.
"I love you, Ichigo. I love you, so much."
Ah.
Look at her. Again, she was like a fairytale princess. She thought that, somehow, she would get her 'Fairytale Ending', even though it was impossible. It was more likely for her to die than to be with Ichigo, and somehow, she knew the first would happen if she would ever to choose the latter. She stiffened, feeling her tear ducts swell.
No. No. No.
She didn't want to ruin this moment, she didn't want to ruin anything, but—
Ichigo paused almost instantaneously when he felt the change. For a second, he vaguely wondered why he was so in tune with the girl. He pulled back, and was quite surprised to see her eyes fill up and the tears course down. Cursing, he released his grip on her hair and hips, before he thought better of it and reached towards her face. Hesitating, he hovered.
And then he watched her raise her small, clenched fists to her eyes and cry like a newborn.
Shit.
He touched her waist this time, gently. The gentlest he had ever been with her. Possibly, the gentlest thing he'd ever done since his life fell apart in front of his very eyes. But he supposed this was acceptable, since Orihime was the gentlest creature he had met since then. Narrowing his eyes up at her, it took all his willpower to not pry her hands from her face and kiss her senseless until she stopped crying.
She keened, deep in her throat, and he tensed. It sounded painful, lost. He cursed again, kneading the soft flesh of her waist. He waited, and waited, and waited some more, until she was finally done. She calmed down little by little, her eyes moist and frightened, lips trembling, and her cheeks wet.
He reached up a hand and wiped his thumb over the tear-tracks, keeping it soft. And then she looked down at him and blushed a deep red.
"O-O-Oh! I'm so, so, so sorry, Ichigo! Did I get my tears on you? I-I wasn't loud, was I? I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize," he replied, his tone lower and huskier than usual. And he knew why. A half-naked, beautiful woman was straddling him, lips swollen and tempting, eyes wet and earnest, and even though she was despairing on the inside, he was still trying to keep in his lust. He'd never felt anything like this before, after all. He was used to grabbing and fucking that it'd became a second nature with women.
Like with Senna. It hadn't been emotions, just raw passion and desire, and he thought that had something to do with love, like a fool. So, as he watched her cry, there was no way he knew what the fuck to do. Was he supposed to keep up or slow down? It was all so unsettling that it made his skin prickle. He fuckin' hated not knowing what to do.
"Why…" he swallowed, trying to ignore the throbbing in his pants and attempting to focus on the throbbing in his heart, "Why are you crying?"
That only seemed to worsen things. She broke out in another round of tears, placing her hands over her face to keep his gaze away.
"Kitten," he said, frustrated, "I can't help you if you don't tell me what—"
"I want to say all the things I know I can't!"
Ichigo blinked, stupefied as she blubbered in front of him, a broken sun compared to the original. Desperately, she wiped her face, only to receive a fresh wave of tears. Shaking her head, her amber locks wafted around her slumped shoulders.
"Orihime." He said her name sternly, tightening his grip around her hips. She did not reply or listen, "Orihi—"
"I told y-you I loved you last night, didn't I?"
Ichigo felt his heart turn over and do some weird shit. Damn. This was not what he thought this would be. It frustrated him, but also sent him dangling on the ledge of euphoria and affection. He wasn't sure if she had asked a rhetorical question or maybe she was waiting for an answer.
She dropped her hands, placing them on his abdomen. The stomach muscles jumped at her tender touch. She touched the long scar on his side, keeping her gaze on that safe spot. He tried not to shake at her touch and kiss her again.
"I…" She swallowed thickly, "I shouldn't have said that." She whispered, ice frozen in her veins, "I should've kept to myself. I should've left. I should've stopped this before it even star—Hmph!"
Yeah. He kissed her. He was tired of waiting anyway, and it was a good way to shut her up. She struggled a bit, something he wanted to grin at—because there was absolutely no way she could deny him anything, as if he would let her. He kissed her hungrily, savoring her taste, wishing he could delve deeper and strip away every lie and secret until he was satisfied. In fact, that sounded like a great fuckin' idea. He knew there was something she wasn't telling him, something she was hiding.
He tangled his fingers in her heavy hair, rubbing his thumbs against her cheeks to wipe away the tears. She didn't fight anymore; she melted underneath him, pliant and needy. Just the way he liked her. When he was satisfied, he panted, placing his forehead on hers.
She was flushed a delicate pink, large eyes still watery, and her lips kiss-bruised. He cupped her face, "Damn. You piss me off."
She jerked, startled at his choice of words.
"You piss me off." He repeated, "I was doing just fuckin' great without you and then you just show up and fuck everything up."
Orihime blinked several times, before her expression began to cloud over, hurt. She opened her mouth—maybe to apologize, but he kissed her again, a quick stab of desire in his lower abdomen. She gasped sharply against his lips, her nails digging in subconsciously. He groaned, a deep, low sound in the back of his throat.
"And, fuck, I love you for it."
She stiffened, and he kneaded the soft flesh of her waist as some kind of comfort. She pulled back, and stared at him with those watery, honey eyes. And then she smiled. Something dropped in him, possibly sweet relief as her smiled widened and grew brighter. Her tears seemed to be the last thing on her mind as she cupped his face tenderly with her small hands.
He kissed her fingertips as she beamed. He scowled back. And she giggled, burrowing her face into his shoulder. As she rested her chin on his shoulder, he held her close, breathing in her comforting scent, and tried not to touch her inappropriately. He sighed. He was losing to the mushy-bullshit, he swore. He would probably have to go beat up someone just to get his balls back. He was sure she wasn't aware she held them in her tiny fist, along with his heart. Shit, she barely believed anything he said.
"Hey," he grumbled, "are you making fun of me?"
"No, no," She shook her head, smiling, "I'm…I'm just very, very happy." She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, inhaling his beautiful scent, "Very happy."
His scowl softened by a degree. Tugging her closer, he rested his chin on the crown of her head. It felt as if he didn't hold her tight enough, she would vanish. The idea was oddly frightening. He knew some shit was up, he knew that bastard Ishida had something on his mind, and he fuckin' knew Kitten was trying to leave at some point, no matter how strong her love was. He nearly snapped at the thought – the most beautiful thing to ever come across him and it wanted to flee. Screw that.
"…A-Ano…Ichigo? You're suffocating me." Orihime squeaked out.
"Oh. Oh! Shit. Sorry." He pulled her back from him, holding her at arms' length. She was still smiling with rosy cheeks. "Sorry."
Orihime blinked again before she grinned, "Ne, Ichigo, it's surprising."
He glared at her, knowing what was to come.
"You've…" Her eyes turned liquid, softer, "You've really changed. It makes me happy."
"Tch," he scoffed, "Everything makes you happy."
Puffing out her cheeks, she replied, "Not everything. Not dead dragonflies."
Ichigo arched a brow, "Dragonflies?"
"Un! Tatsuki-chan and I used to always catch dragonflies outside the Gardens and she would always catch more than me. So whenever I grabbed them too roughly, they would die. It made me sad until Mother would call me in for supper. I usually forgot by then and Tatsuki-chan would always tease me about it." She laughed, her eyes shining from the memories.
Ichigo's eyebrow climbed higher. Although it was nice to know something else from her life, he didn't miss that strange notion, "Gardens? So you lived in a nice house, huh?"
Orihime blinked owlishly, her wet lashes brushing against her cheekbones. Her expression changed, unreadable, "Eh? Did I say something like that?"
His eyes narrowed. As if he would buy that innocent act. He opened his mouth to make her pry, but then they both heard the loud footsteps a moment too late.
"Orihime! Just how long are you intending to stay in bed? You're just as lazy as Ichigo, I swear—" The door was thrust open and then there was silence. There stood Kuchiki Rukia, arms limp by her sides, and a look of surprise passing over her delicate face.
Ichigo glared at her as Orihime squeaked in his arms. To the redhead's shock, Rukia peeled off her sandal and struck it over Ichigo's defenseless head.
"What the—Get off her, Ichigo!" She snarled, batting him again and again with the unexpected weapon.
"DAMMIT!" Ichigo raged, rising to his feet the next second. Orihime slipped off him, emitting a startled cry, "Don't hit me, you little shit!"
"You deserve it! What were you doing to her?" Rukia demanded, her gaze as sharp as knives.
"We were talking!"
"Yeah, about your dick!"
"K-K-Kuchiki-san~ Please!"
…
…
She paced.
And while she paced, she thought of her daughter. Her eyes narrowed, that useless thing.
Sneering her upper lip, she watched as the sun hung in the sky, dazzling her eyes, lighting up her castle, her Kingdom. Well, she thought, disdained, not for long. When her precious daughter came back, there wasn't much that she would be able to do. She was getting old, you see, she was withering in her riches and luxuries. A shame, she wanted to think, but she knew this bitterness she held towards the world was the reason. And the jealously, towards her daughter, the unrealistic beauty she saw in that girl's face.
Sometimes, when the girl was younger, she had wanted to creep to her room and cut off that gorgeous face, place it over her own just to see if it would look better. Maybe that was why Sora had been so protective of the girl, because he saw the way she looked at her. She would always stare at her long mane of golden-crimson tresses with a sense of hunger, those features that would melt into a smile, and that creamy, perfect skin with malice. Sometimes, she was glad Sora was dead—she didn't have to deal with his glare that he would always send to her.
Oh, well.
It wasn't as if his death did anything to the Kingdom. It didn't really matter to her. And it wasn't exactly her fault. With a sigh, she dug into her corset, under the frills, and found the locket. Pure gold, she thought with a smirk as she opened it. And there he was, the wavy, luscious brown locks, and the cool chocolate eyes. Her smirk widened.
Her first love.
"Empress?"
She jerked, startled from her memories and thoughts. Turning, she saw the line of soldiers, each bowed, while the Captain Hisagi standing with his eyes stern and solemn.
"Yes?"
"She has been sighted."
Those words, she hadn't been intending to hear them. The Captain watched as her smile stretched wide, eyes gleaming, and she tucked something back into her dress. With a soft chuckle, she said, "Are you certain?"
He jolted, surprised, "Er…Yes, Empress. Lieutenant Kuchiki in Sokyoku saw her crossing towards Sokyoku. No mistaking it, either. Long, red hair, hazel eyes, and, well," Hisagi averted his gaze, "Endowed."
The Empress smiled, "Yes. That is certainly her." Tapping her chin, she mused aloud, "Sokyoku, that's ways away, Orihime…"
Hisagi stared up at her, "Empress?"
"Send them out." She waved her hand, "Find her. Smoke her out, if you have to. And whoever is with her, you kill them."
"Yes, Empress." They all said in unison. She watched as they stood, bowed, and began to leave. "Oh, and Hisagi." The black-haired turned, "Please alert Ulquiorra-sama."
"Yes, Empress."
She sat down on her throne.
Oh, Orihime, you worry me so.
…
…
"If I were the rain, could I connect with someone's heart, just as it can unite the eternally separated earth and sky?"
"Huh?"
Orihime jerked, surprised, "I-Ichigo!"
He was standing in the threshold of Rukia's large home, scowling. Frowning at her, he stepped down the three steps.
"Isn't it dinnertime?" Orihime asked, tilting her head, "Shouldn't you be inside?"
"Shouldn't you?" countered Ichigo as he stopped in front of her. Glancing up at the clouds, he spoke again, "It's gonna rain."
She smiled brightly, a stark contrast to the dreary outside, "Yes. It makes me happy."
He arched a brow, "Happy?" He demanded incredulously before snorting, "Yeah, right."
Brow creasing, she inquired, "It doesn't make you happy."
"Why would it make me happy?"
"The water is giving the land life. Besides, it's really pretty, the clouds, the air, even the lightening is really, really shiny." The dark clouds were still ways away, but Orihime watched them as though they were the sun about to breach the sky. Ichigo scowl deepened.
"It was raining when my life fell apart."
Orihime looked up at him, surprised. A strange look passed over his face, his eyes narrowed. "H-How did your life fall apart?" She asked hesitantly. The man she loved was a man of many secrets, she knew that. Some that she wished to know and others that she would rather be kept in the dark about. Secrets that carried blood and hate and tears, secrets that were enough to break her heart.
"Lots of ways," he shrugged, "…The rain doused out the fires." A vague, lost look passed through his eyes before he smothered it, returning his attention to her. She appeared worried. He lifted a hand and pressed his thumbs to her warm, pink lips, "What were you talkin' about earlier?"
It wasn't a lot, but it diverted her attention, "E-Earlier?" She turned rosy under his fingertips, breaths coming out shorter.
He smirked, "You were saying somethin' about the rain." She appeared even more confused, "Connecting it with someone's heart."
"Oh!" She smiled a bit, sheepishly, "You heard that?"
"I try to hear everything you say," He murmured, tone strangely low, "I don't wanna miss any of this."
Orihime didn't have enough time to be surprised. He leaned forward and his lips were suddenly taking away her breath, her words, her reason. Her eyelids fluttered closed, lips parting in acceptance, she thought, how could I love him anymore than this?
He tied a hand into her hair, cupping the nape of her neck, pressing forward, demanding more. His head always fuzzed up whenever he kissed her, came in contact with her. Orihime tried to match his passion, he could tell, but he always managed to beat her, dominate her with a single stroke of his tongue.
Mom, a long time ago, you told me my name meant protect.
He kissed her harder, hauling her body flush against his. Lust tore through him sharply, and he groaned deep in his throat, feeling her merge her body to his, the delicious curves that would always be trapped in his mind.
After everyone's death, I found I couldn't believe what you had said.
Orihime wasn't completely innocent either. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
What could I possibly protect?
"I love you," She whispered against his lips, tightening her grip around his neck.
But now, I finally found something.
He wrenched his lips away from hers, tasting her scent and breathing in her flavor. She was soft and pliant under him.
I found something that I can protect, something I can cherish for a while now.
Slowly, he untangled himself from her, keeping in mind to be gentle, to treasure this. Treasure her for all that she is worth. Slowly, he dragged his hand from her neck to her shoulder, down her arm, and took her little hand in his. It was much softer and small, but it had saved lives countless times, he had watched.
She seemed startled when he intertwined their hands together, large spice-brown eyes blinking up at him. And then, she smiled. A bright smile full of sunshine and trust. A smile that he was oddly possessive of. A smile that he would cherish until the end of his days. She was blushing again and he smiled—not a smirk, but a boyish smile that was filled with genuine bliss.
Orihime beamed right back.
This, right here, mom, he squeezed her hand, is it.
…
…
It had been quiet that night.
After dinner—Grimmjow stuffing his face, Renji hollering, Rukia telling them to mind their manners, Ishida annoyed, the quiet Sado in the corner, Ichigo shouting at every maid that came and left, and Orihime happy the entire time—Orihime had climbed into her futon.
Ichigo had said they were leaving tomorrow morning, as soon as possible. She didn't mind, as long as she was able to wake to him, just him. It was also warm, maybe because of the humidity. It was so close to raining, she wondered if the clouds would explode.
Creak.
Orihime's eyes opened. She could already tell who it was. It was warm, yet hard. And it slipped into the futon with her. Happily, she cuddled to him, arms around neck, lips at throat, legs tangling together, and his breath on her cheek.
He pressed his hand against her back, bringing her closer.
"Shit."
Orihime blinked, frowning. "What is it?"
He didn't reply, burrowing deeper into her. A hand on her bottom and back to hold her as close as possible. Orihime flushed pink, but her concern outdid her embarrassment.
"Ichigo? What's wrong? Did the little blue men invade Strawberrytopia?!"
"Shh!" He hissed, "Dammit, no!"
"Then what is it?" Again, he was quiet. Like a kid, she thought joyfully, amusement clear, "Ichigo, you can tell me anything. Swear!"
"…I.…" He mumbled the rest.
"Eh?"
"I had a hadafuckin'nightmare."
Orihime tensed, surprised. "You had a…nightmare? Like a bad dream?"
"Yeah," he clutched her tighter now, and she found it rather difficult to breathe, "Shit."
She tried to match his urgency to be closer, but once again, she was befuddled, "And what happened?"
"You left," he answered almost instantly.
The emotion that hit her, she wasn't prepared for it. It was a few seconds before her tears came, and they were big and fat and messy. She gasped sharply, unprepared for the onslaught of pain. Timidly, she wrapped her arms around his middle, burrowing her wet face there.
"R-Really?" Ichigo didn't reply. He must've heard the tremor in his voice, "Well, maybe I left to go get s-some food, or maybe some water. Ishida-kun is dehydrated rather easily a-and…and…"
He took a rough of her shoulders, pulling her back. It didn't take long for him to take in the teary gaze and wet face, "The fuck are you cryin' for?" His eyes narrowed dangerously, "Don't tell me you still intend to end this when this shit is over."
Orihime bit her bottom lip, lowering her gaze. She didn't want to lie to his face, "…O-Of course not, Kurosaki-san."
"You're lying." She opened her mouth to deny, but suddenly, the door was open.
"Ichigo!" Rukia was coughing, panting, covered in a light sheen of sweat, "Ichigo! Orihime!"
Ichigo was up before Orihime could say anything, do anything, and she watched as Rukia's eyes fluttered closed, and she careened to the side. Ichigo caught her before she could hit the ground and Orihime stumbled over.
"Kuchiki-san! Is she alright?" Orihime inquired, watching the girl's eyebrows pinch together.
"What's that smell?" Ichigo's head lifted, eyes narrowed. Orihime could tell what was happening—he wasn't the Ichigo she knew at the moment, the one that just came into her room, crawled into her bed, and told her he had a nightmare. No. he was the man she'd met at the beginning, the one who would kill anyone who messed with him the wrong way. And as much as she loved this half, she didn't want him to do something he regretted.
"Ichi—" She said, but he was up and placing Rukia's head in her lap the next second. She felt the brush of his hand on her head, "Ichigo!"
"Stay back," His voice was firm, leaving no argument. She watched as he walked out of the room, and left her in the darkness, sliding the door closed. It was quiet for a long time, just her hitched breathing, Rukia's pants, and the sound of her throbbing heart.
And then there was a scream.
Orihime was quick to place Rukia in her futon. She already knew enough screams to know that was one of panic. She threw open the door, and was horrified to see the flames. When she inhaled, her lungs set ablaze. The fires were everywhere—coating the walls, on the floors, and eating up the entire upper floor. She reeled backwards, her heart going into a frenzy. She glanced at Ishida's door—an immediate reaction—only to see it wide open and he wasn't in it.
Quickly, she hurried back to her room, hooking her hands under Rukia's arms. Coughing, Orihime used the last of her strength to half-carry and half-drag the petite woman to the window. She crawled out of it, taking Rukia with her, and attempted to take herself as far away from the fires as possible. When she took a good look at the large house, she saw the fires had taken up most of the house, starting from the roof, which meant that whatever had hit the house had been either an arrow launched or alcohol.
But who would…?
When the fire suddenly reared its ugly head, flaming out in impossibly length, Orihime knew it was time to move away. The roof was going to cave in at any moment. Taking a firm hold of Rukia, she moved back again, panting and trying to ignore the sheen of sweat lining her body.
"Orihime! Rukia!"
Orihime jerked, glancing up to see Renji—more of his hair—running towards them, sword drawn. Orihime blinked. Blood was seeping from the crowd of his head, dripping from his chin, and she could tell from the bruises on his face that he'd been beaten up pretty badly.
"Abrai-san!" Orihime started towards him, only for him to stoop low. "A-Are you alright?"
"Yeah," he nodded quickly, panting, "What about you?" He looked up at her, she nodded, and then he took Rukia's shoulder, shaking her, "Rukia?"
"She fainted. I think from the smoke." Orihime suggested, keeping a firm grip on Rukia's underarms. Laughing awkwardly, she uttered, "She's really heavy for some reason…Have you seen Ishida-kun?"
Renji took Rukia in his arms after sheathing his sword. Looking back at the redhead, he shook his head, "Nah. I thought he'd gotten out already." And then, without warning, he took her wrist. Orihime inhaled sharply, "We have to get outta here!"
"W-What?"
"Ichigo's orders! C'mon!" He rounded the burning house, and Orihime's eyes grew impossible larger at the scene. The entire village had been enveloped in flames, every house, every shop, the grounds, and the people were running, fleeing. When she saw one of the soldiers, a very familiar soldier she could remember, slash through a small woman with her children, she covered her mouth in horror, whimpering, trying to look away as the blood streamed and flooded her senses.
Renji cursed, "Oi! Orihime! Don't die on me." That seemed to attract attention, because the next second, a group of soldiers started towards them, "Shit!" Renji cursed, "Orihime! Get outta here! Run the other way!"
Orihime could feel her heart trembling, her body trembling along with it, and she felt as if she would be sick. Swallowing, she turned away as Renji sprinted off in the other direction, Rukia over his shoulder, and she took off, going left. Her legs felt heavy, like iron, and she regretted putting back on her yellow kimono to sleep in. It wasn't very comfortable running.
"One went this way! This way!"
She could hear the voices behind her, and it only made her even more frightened. The Calvary! It was the Calvary from her Kingdom. No, no, no! This only meant one thing. They had found her, they had found her and was going to take her back. It made her panic even more. As she hurried back around the house, she tried to find a place where the flames weren't as bad. The market place was full of dead bodies—bleeding, burning dead bodies—and animals scampering everywhere. She could still hear the yells of the guards, the screaming of children, and the constant roaring of fire and danger in her ears.
"Ichigo!" She cried, because that made her feel safe and she wanted him beside her. Please.
One of the huts beside her broke down into ashes, just like her heart.
"Ichigo!" She screamed until her throat felt raw. At least, if she saw him, she could tell him she loved him one more time, she could kiss him, inhale his scent, just one last time, "Ichigo! Ichigo!"
She coughed, tears springing to her eyes as the stench of smoke rose.
"Orihime!"
She whirled around, hoping to get a flash of orange, but the smoke was too strong. "I-Ichigo…?"
"Orihime, walk towards my voice!" He shouted to her, ways away. Orihime raised a hand limply in front of her. "Orihime, this way!" She kept moving, her bare feet raw and sore against the hot land, "That's it! I can see you, Kitten. Keep coming!"
And for a second, she felt relieved. Thank Kami-sama, she would be able to see him again. Just one more time.
I love you.
I love you so much.
I love you, Ichigo.
So, please—
"Woman."
She froze.
The fires rose and burned through her heart.
Slowly, as though to resist her fate, she turned. He was there, dressed in the finest suits, hands tucked in pockets, black hair against pale skin, and the oddest green eyes she'd ever seen. It was like looking into an emerald forest. Ice flooded into her veins, a stark contrast to the fire in her chest.
He walked towards her, a blank expression on her face, his steps precise and deliberate. She couldn't hear Ichigo, and she vaguely wondered if he could see her anymore.
"Come with me, woman."
She opened her mouth, willing herself to say something, but nothing came out. Her mouth felt dry, out of control, her reason broke. Licking her lips, she tried again.
"Silence."
And she closed it the next second, shocked into silence as he continued towards her.
"'Yes' will be the next word you speak." He stated coolly, "Anything else will result in a quick death." She kept quiet, her resolve wavering, "Not for you, but for your comrades. The trash."
She couldn't resist the widening of her eyes. Her lungs felt like they would explode—she hadn't been breathing since she'd seen him.
He stopped a few feet away, voice low, "Don't ask questions. Don't say a word. You have no rights or options. In your hands, you hold the rope of guillotine safely suspended above the trash's neck. I hope you understand, woman. We are not negotiating."
Her fists were shaking, she realized dully, everything was shaking. This was her worst nightmare, her impending future. She already knew everything just by gazing at him, just by meeting his eyes. Fiancé, she thought reflexivity, my husband, Ulquiorra Schiffer.
She wanted to deny that title, everything about it, but as their eyes met and locked, he said,
"I'm giving you an order."
She gasped, frozen in front of him. All of a sudden, she could see the castle walls—the prison—feel the uncomfortable dresses, hear her mother's voice, and she allowed herself to be lulled back.
That was her life, so what was she doing trying to change it? Her resolve had weakened, yes, and now, it was tarnished.
I'm sorry Onii-chan, that I could not keep our promise.
"I will say it one more time."
…I'm sorry, Ichigo.
"Come with me, woman."
…
…
Muhahahaaaa! I am sooooooo evil! Did anyone else hear Ulquiorra sexy-ass music in the background, remember when he came to get her and take Orihime to Hueco Mundo and while he was saying those words, all you heard was the music and you were fangirling like YES YES YES GO WITH HIM~! Lol, sorry, some of you might not like Ulquihime.
Well, anyways, yes I know it might seem a bit rushed, but I promised my good friend lyerlaboys1 that I would give her the best Hidden Screams chapter I could muster. And here you are with all the romance, drama, action, and angst I could type out! Hope ya loved it! And can I just say my heart is pounding and I'm the one who wrote this chapter?! Jeez, it gave me goosebumps.
I'm hoping I surprised you all, since I haven't updated in two months and I come out with THIS! I can't wait to hear your thoughts. I know some of them aren't gonna be really happy! Hehe! And who else liked mushy-mushy Ichigo in this chapter, I know I did. He might be really hard, but he's really mushy and just wants Orihime all to himself. I LOVED IT! Oh, and no worries, the Ichihime is NOT over! I mean, really, would Ichigo ever give up? C'mon!
Well, and I gotta update on Her. I know you're all waiting for that, or if you want me to update one of my stories that you miss, I'll try to get right onto it.
Love you all!
(PS: OMG! I just realized that Renji and Rukia were calling Orihime 'Inoue. Sorry. Luckily, DeathBerryLover1995, told me. I totally forgot. Thanks! I fixed it now, so no worries. The two aren't supposed to know she's the princess, of course!)
-Star