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Auburn Strands and Red Threads #6
The initial adrenaline rush caused by fear was not immediately understood, and it clouded her mind for a split second. The room was blurry, her vision not focused, and it felt like a few minutes before the odd symptoms went away. Orihime took in deep breaths, making sure it did not come off as abnormal.
Had she heard that correctly?
She would be under . . . arrest?
What had she done?
The back of her mind held the answer, but what would have caused the delay? Or was this right on time?
Yoruichi watched her carefully; she herself was not trying to be intimidating—just trying to evaluate Orihime's emotions, which seemed hard to do. The auburn girl looked as if she were listening to some mundane story she was trying to show interest in. Yoruichi did not dare look at Kisuke, but she knew the man well, and it be five, four, three . . .
Orihime, noting that they must have been waiting for her to say something, swallowed softly, trying to make the next few words come out smoothly. "Yoruichi-san-"
"What are you talking about?" Kisuke interrupted, a shade shy of anger. He, at some point, moved himself slightly in between the two women in what Orihime briefly thought looked like he was ready to shield her from something.
Yoruichi looked at him sternly, clearly not in the mood for any objections. "Please, calm down, Kisuke. I don't like this any more than you do."
"Then why are you doing this? Why didn't you warn me?"
"Be reasonable here. If I could have gotten in contact with you beforehand, I would have. And, please, don't act like you don't know what this is about. Contacting you would have been a mistake, and you know it."
"You mean . . . . ?" He paused, looking at both of them uncomfortably.
She nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid so."
"Tck," he muttered scornfully. "So, that's it. What offense is he claiming?"
Yoruichi ran a hand across her forehead, trying to keep her composure. "According to Soul Society Law, no soul is to be taken back to the World of the Living without authorization first. Last night, we got word that a fresh soul was coming our way when it suddenly vanished. Usually, we assume it's the work of Quincies and their breach of contract, but we traced the spiritual pressure back to Orihime's apartment."
"You gotta be kidding! Since when has a law like that been enforced in the last-?!" Kisuke wiped a hand across his mouth, looking up so he wouldn't direct so much misguided anger at the woman in front of him. "Isn't there a way around this?" he asked gruffly.
"Kisuke, look . . ." She glanced at Orihime, feeling conflicted. She closed her eyes, hands on her hips, and took a moment to breathe, clearing her mind. "Orihime," Yoruichi said after a while, smiling, "Kisuke and I need to have a talk. I'm sorry to impose on your plans this evening, but could you go home for now?"
"Yoruichi-" Kisuke began.
"I-it's alright," Orihime stammered before he could protest. "I understand. Please, take your time." Orihime stood, fighting through the numbness in her legs. She eyed the food on the table. "I'll leave these here for tonight. Thank you for having me." She bowed, turning to leave, overcome with the compelling feeling that her sudden awkward graces were being demonstrated as she left. Orihime felt light-headed, heart beating shallowly in her chest. She was being punished for saving a life instead of taking one? She had no idea it was against the law, so why hadn't there been some kind of warning?
Walking into the hallway seemed to be a laborious task, as if she were in a dream, and she could only thank any and all forces for getting her into the dark walkway.
"Orihime," Kisuke called.
She stopped at the front door and saw him coming her way. His steps carried urgency, and she could have sworn he was breathless when he called out to her. "Y-yes, Kisuke-san?"
All of his movements stopped and any pending words vanished so suddenly that she was sure she had done something wrong. She could not tell what emotion was being portrayed on his face—mainly because she did not understand and could just barely see his expression with his hat tilted at such a low degree. From what she could see, he looked shocked, maybe hurt, but there was no way she could be sure.
"It's nothing." He smiled, grabbing his hat to tilt over his eyes even more. "Just be sure to get home safe, okay?"
She grinned faintly; she felt she had to. "I will, don't worry. I'll see you tomorrow." She left, closing the door behind her.
The blond man stood in the hall, not wanting to move. He wanted to watch her leave, to assure himself that things were different and that everything was alright, but this . . . This has never happened before.
"I'm surprised," Yoruichi said, standing in the doorway of the living room. "I was expecting you to do more than just see her off."
He laughed dryly, refusing to turn around. "She called me Kisuke-san just now. She's been calling me that ever since this whole thing started, and it's driving me up the wall. The last time I heard her say that . . . she-"
"Kisuke," Yoruichi gripped her arm, hating how he was reverting back to that side of himself, "that was a different lifetime."
"But it's the same in every one, isn't it? It's the same life over and over, and her habits are the same in each and every one. She doesn't call me that unless she's scared . . . So scared she could cry, so what's going on in this world?" He shook his head loosely. "God, I can't even pretend to know how she's feeling right now."
"Listen . . ." She bit her lip, unsure if she should delve further into the issue. "I know you want to keep your promise to him, but isn't this a little much?"
"It's not about the promise anymore. She's more than just someone I want to look after. She's family."
"But how many times are you going to start over, Kisuke? Every time something goes wrong, you reset the universe. What are you really trying to accomplish? Are you doing it for her, him, or yourself?"
"I don't know!" Kisuke leaned his head against the door, feeling crazed. "All of us, I guess! Each time I hope she'll stay, but that never seems to be the case, does it? I just . . . I just want to be better to her than I was in the past."
"Yes, but when are you going to start living for you, again?"
"I am living for me. Why else would I be doing this?"
She sighed. Trying to speak some words of logic to him wasn't helping. She knew how he felt about this—about them—but she hated when things went wrong, and they always went wrong at some point.
"Ya know," Yoruichi said softly, "she was right. You will see her tomorrow."
He huffed indignantly. "Don't say what I want to hear."
She looked to the side, either emotionally hurt that he refused to be helped or feeling as though she failed at helping the man she loved. She intended to try again, but figured she should stop being so formal. Yoruichi slowly walked towards him, breaking the authoritative resolve she needed and into the Yoruichi he needed.
"Hey." She slowly pulled on his sleeve, turning him towards her. He made no attempt to lift his head to look at her, but he also put up no resistance. She placed both her hands on the sides of his face and gently guided his head up to look at her. Tears were welling in his eyes, face turning red. Whether it was from the emotional pain or from embarrassment, she did not know.
"What's going on?" he asked softly. "Why is she-?"
"It's going to be alright," she said. "I've been with you from the start, haven't I? You think it was a coincidence that I was the one to come?"
He had to agree with her. She's been through various lifetimes with him. He had paid little attention for the most part, but he was truly grateful that she has stayed loyal to him through her own free-will. He was neglectful to her, he knew that, but he valued her more than he could put into words. He loved her not because she put up with him and his near addictive ways, but because she still looked at him like he was the only person she could imagine spending the rest of her life with.
If only he could get it right, just once.
If he could get this right . . .
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close, and rested his head on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he groaned.
She hugged him, one hand on his head, the other on his back. "I understand all of this, okay? But listen, there's not much I can do about this one."
"Nothing at all?"
"Not me entirely, but we can take a chance."
"Okay." He squeezed her tighter. "Anything."
Inuyasha couldn't believe himself. He, the boy who had made the biggest fuss over getting the jewel shard back, had failed miserably at fulfilling his goal.
He had made it back to the Feudal Era, yes, but he had not taken two steps away from the well when he couldn't force himself to take another. He knew what he wanted was in one of the clips, and that made this all the more frustrating. Even with his mind running rampant, he tried his best to convince himself he didn't know what was trying to make itself known. He couldn't fool himself for long because his body gradually stopped moving. He didn't question his motives because the answer flashed in his head the very next moment.
He didn't feel right doing this.
He cursed himself, verbally bashing his existence, forcing his legs to trudge on three more weighted steps.
Why was this so hard for him?
Why was getting this one little shard back so difficult?
He had finally gotten what he wanted, so why did his body refuse to cross the necessary finish line? Again, he knew the answer. He was just pissed at himself for allowing the thought to fester in the pit of his mind in the first place.
Clenching his fists, he turned around, hopped onto the edge of the well and projecting himself into the air to get at the highest branch he could reach. As he soared, cool air roaring at his presence, he let his mind go blank before he began his descent back down. He passed a few branches before he reached his hand up to catch himself. The sudden halted motion did nothing to shake him from his thoughts.
Pulling himself up, he made his way to the trunk of the tree so he could press his back against it. He stared up into the sky, purposely avoiding the near full moon once he caught sight of it.
"Why . . . ?" he mumbled, bringing a hand to push half of his bangs back.
He wondered if he couldn't keep this up for much longer.
He should be blaming that witch up and down right now, but under the presence of the moon and the objects hidden in his clothing, he could no longer bring himself to fault her. At least not right now. His fist balled in his hair, emotions having a riot within him and not caring how it affected the peace he was trying to keep in his brain.
This was new to him. He was terribly confused, and he had no one to turn to—at least, no one who he wanted to give full or even partial details about why he was reduced to this state. There was Kagome . . . but he really didn't want to go to her like this. He was this confused all because he got tangled up with someone in her time, and he didn't want to think about how she would react once he told her all he went through with this girl.
He also did not think Kagome would like if he were to go on about another girl, period.
He groaned, a gut instinct coming to him. "I was so close."
Orihime was aware she had barely picked her feet up the whole way home, but she could not pick up the pace even after she realized the streetlights were on.
She was neither scared nor sad.
She was just very . . . empty.
She didn't know why she didn't feel anything, and she didn't know how she was supposed to feel. It was obvious she was in a great deal of trouble but why?
Why did she have to hear this news now?
If this came to her attention last night, she would have felt something and maybe even been glad that someone knew what she did. As it stood now, the terrible thing she did last night was still not known because her crime was bringing a life back.
She was in trouble for saving a life.
And that absurd realization suddenly made her feel something. Kisuke and Yoruichi had almost been talking in code. They were alluding to a person, but didn't say a name. She supposed that wasn't abnormal—they obviously didn't want her in on it—but it struck her as odd that they purposely didn't say who this person was. And so she was confused about everything that happened tonight, but not everything seemed related to one another.
She sighed, arms at her sides as she pulled on her sleeves. She wanted to feel fear, sadness, anger . . . She wanted Yoruichi's actions to feel justified.
Again, she sighed, looking up to see that she was approaching her apartment complex. She wondered if someone was waiting to take her away . . .
Even then, the thought did nothing to her.
Why . . . ?
". . .do I feel this way?" she whispered.
She walked up the flight of stairs before her floor when she heard a thump from above. She paused, looking up, wondering what it was, but could not hear any further movement. She swallowed thickly, mouth suddenly feeling warm, and climbed the remaining steps to her floor.
He had jumped through the well before he could allow himself to second guess or question anything about his decision. He closed his eyes, not caring for the light-show created between worlds, and waited to feel the ground beneath his feet once again. Once contact was made, he wasted no time in jumping over the edge and putting his legs to work.
He raced off Kagome's property, not wanting to be spotted by anyone she knew, and let his legs do all the thinking for him.
It made him feel less guilty.
It wasn't until he reached the door—her door—that he began to think about what he should say. He stood there, out of breath, and the speeding of his heart did not help catch his breath any quicker.
He didn't want to say anything.
He did, however, want to test something out. If he saw her one more time, he would finally figure out if he-
His ears perked at a faint sound. He looked to his right and everything but his mind shut down.
There she was.
She wore clothes longer and slightly bigger than he remembered, and her hair was pulled back.
She looked . . . surprised.
He should have accounted for something like this, but he wished she made more sound getting here. He wasn't prepared for her to be here without warning. As a matter of fact, she was supposed to be here already, so why was she just now showing up at all?
Her arms were firm to her side, hands balled, and shoulders slightly raised. She wasn't prepared to see him again, not this soon. Not ever, really. Yet here he was, at her door no less.
Staring at her, even.
They had been in each other's presence for a few seconds now, but he wasn't blowing up on her, which, in itself, was something to make her wary.
He turned to her fully, sending a zap of adrenaline through her.
It must have been minutes that they stood staring at each other, but neither one moved. At first, Orihime was merely surprised and didn't know how to move, but she noted the fierce blazing in his eyes and his own lack of movement.
If she was scared, she had a funny way of feeling it. Her body told her to run, but her mind told her to stay right where she was. If she ran, there was no guarantee he would chase her, which meant there was no guarantee she would see him again. It was a foolish thought. She was seeing more and more of him these days with no purpose attached; however, the point was, there should be no reason she should want to see him again.
Her conflicting thoughts distracted her to the point she was no longer thought about making the first move. In the back of her mind, she was aware this situation was becoming uncomfortable, but she willed her mind to keep thinking so this would feel less awkward.
He felt incredibly awkward.
When he first arrived, he was determined not to say anything and just leave her things as soon as she opened the door, but she ruined it by coming home. It was okay at first because he thought his mind was taking it upon itself to punish him by throwing him an imaginary situation he couldn't deal with, but the more he focused, the more real she became. This realization had him ready to panic.
When she froze, it gave him some time to think. He came up with a new plan, a pretty good one seeing how he improvised, but she was messing that up, too. She had done something he hadn't counted on.
She didn't say a word.
She stood at the end of the way, staring back at him, and this went on longer than he would have hoped. She was supposed to see him, ask why he was here, and then it'd be over in a few seconds, but none of that happened.
He could just do it and leave . . . but that was not in his plan either. He wanted to say something now, but that would screw up the way he saw this going. He frowned, becoming angry because his nerves were being challenged.
She was an aggravating being.
He exhaled through his nose, eyes boring into hers. "Inuyasha."
She blinked, aware that he had spoken, but wasn't sure if it was to her. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to say something, but hadn't thought far enough as to what to say. She swallowed, taking a silent deep breath. "P-pardon?"
"That's my name."
At this, she could only stare lamely.
His name? Why was he telling her his name? Was it supposed to mean something to her, and, if so, she wished she had been listening intently the first time.
"Um . . . I-Inu . . .?"
He grunted, slightly jerking his body backward in irritation before coming back forcefully. "Inuyasha. I-nu-ya-sha."
Her heart began pounding in her throat. The fact that he wanted her to know his name seemed like a threat, but he was making no sense.
Unless . . . he was trying to be polite.
She gasped to herself, feeling rude for not returning the favor. "Um! My name is Orihime I-Inoue."
His frown softened, head tilting. "Ori . . . hime?"
She nodded, bringing her hands up to fiddled with them. "I-it sounds kind of funny when you first hear it, but I've learned to like it a lot. I mean, I haven't found anyone else with my name, but I guess it may have come from that legend with the two star lovers who only meet once a year. I-I always thought it was a sad story, seeing how all they wanted to do was be together, but at the same time it's really sweet that the two would still-"
"The hell are you blabbing about?" His shoulders drooped. "Stars . . . Names . . . All I did was tell you my name."
"Yes . . ." She looked down at her fingers for a moment. "Um . . . it's-"
"Look, I just came back to return your head ornaments."
Her eyes snapped up to meet his. "What?"
He pulled something out of his shihakushō. "Just take them so I can leave."
She stared at him, feeling more than confused but couldn't wrap her mind around how immense it was. She walked over to him, not feeling scared, but as if she were getting her hopes too high.
This could be a trick.
He could be planning to attack her, but she hated to admit she would fall for it many times. Those clips meant the world to her because, at one point, her brother was her world. If she had a chance to have a piece of him back with her, she'd jump at the chance numerous times.
She was aware that the boy, Inuyasha, was watching her carefully, but all she could focus on was the fist extended to her. She closed the gap, holding her breath, and slowly cupped her hands below his. He dropped his closed hand into hers, releasing the objects, then retracted his arm to his side. Orihime looked at her clips, hardly able to believe these were the ones she longed to have back in her possession.
"You brought them back . . . Why?"
He snorted. "Whaddya mean why? You made a big fuss over 'em yesterday."
"Yes, but . . . I mean . . ." She picked up her transformed clip and twirled it. "You . . . I thought . . ."
"Thought what?" He scowled to the side. "I was lookin' for the jewel shard and took those stupid things by mistake. What good are ornaments like that ta me?"
"But . . . this cli-"
"Hey! Ori- Oru . . . uh, whatever. I'm lookin' for somethin' and, as far as I'm concerned, that ain't it."
"But this one-"
He sighed harshly. "Just take the stupid things."
"Why are you . . . ?" She wasn't sure what she wanted to ask him. Why was he acting like he didn't just give back what he wanted? Why was he giving them back in the first place? Why did he come back tonight? He could have done it tomorrow or any time where . . . where he didn't have to come at night.
He gave her a very brief glance then turned away. She clenched her hands around the clips and looked back at him.
"Ah-"
"That's all," he said curtly. He grasped onto the rail. "I'm leaving."
"Th-thank you so much! This means a lot to me."
"Yeah, yeah." He jumped over the rail and landed below.
"Inuyasha!" Orihime called suddenly, leaning over the metal. "This means more to me than you can ever know! I . . . I can . . ." She paused briefly. "Come back tomorrow! I'll cook something for you!"
He looked back at her; she bit her lip.
"I-if you want!"
She ran inside, shutting the door and pressing her back against it. She stared at the darkness of her home as she let her breathing settle, clutching her hair clips to her chest. She couldn't believe she had invited him to her home. That was not her intention when she realized he was about to leave, and her words had not registered with her until he looked at her.
What did he think?
He looked confused, that was for sure, but what did he think of her now that she did that? She took his crystal, killed him, revived him, and then invited him to dinner. What would a normal reaction to all of this be?
She sighed helplessly, bringing her hands to her face, and slid down the length of the door.
She looked at her hand, suddenly aware of the digging in her skin, and stared at her clips again. She moved them around with her finger, overwhelmed with the presence of them. She thought they were gone for good, but he brought them back.
He took them . . . then brought them back.
"Neither of us . . . makes sense," she whispered to herself.
Inuyasha stared at the building after she ran inside.
She didn't make any sense. She wanted him to come back?
To her?
He shook his head, turning and jumping on rooftops to head back to the well.
He wasn't coming back.
Well, that was a lie. He would have to come back eventually because after he collected all the shards from his time he would have to find her again. That was a long ways off, though—just like he was when he realized, after convincing himself he had nothing more to do with that girl, he had passed Kagome's house.
When he made it back to his time, he sat against the well, pulling on his bangs. He wasn't concerned, he was just confused.
She told him to come back tomorrow . . . so she could cook for him. She wanted to cook him food? So, she wanted him to eat? She wanted to make something for him in the hopes that he would eat it. Unless . . . she meant something else . . . but what?
She was . . . bad.
She stole the shard from him . . . after she healed his injuries. But she did kill him . . . then brought him back.
She didn't make any sense.
She was probably a sadist.
He growled, letting his head hang. This was supposed to be the end of all his problems, but nothing changed. He had a reason to not go back for a while, but that didn't particularly please him. Maybe he should have given her the plain looking ornament back only.
He looked at his hand.
Her hands had been soft . . .
Clenching his fist, he balled it in his other hand.
One thing was for certain. He figured out something about himself and . . .
"I don't get it," he sighed.