Return to me
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Based off:
the screen play by
Bonnie Hunt and Donald Lake
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Disclaimer:
I don not own bleach Tite Kubo does
I do not own any rights to Return to me.
Rights to Return to me reserved by MGM studios.
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Authors Note:
Sorry for late update I have been busy making amv's
XD
So thank you Sybil Marvin for black mailing me.
XP
Also thank you for everybody who has added this story to their favorites
and/or left reviews.
I really love hearing from you
so please continue to review
On with the Story.
It was times like these when Ichigo was driving down the road in the middle of a mid April storm that he remembered the saying "April showers bring May flowers." When he was a child he believed it meant that if he showered multiple times a day in April the following month he would be paraded with gifts and flowers. But not tonight. His thoughts were on a sadder memory. The memory of a starry early April night when Rukia and Ichigo danced to Dean Martin's Return to Me -their song- under a white gazebo covered in flowers and sparkling Christmas lights. It was there fist dance as husband and wife.
His eyes wandered and landed on his left hand, white knuckled, as it gripped the steering wheel. His golden wedding band shined in the light of the street lamps, filling his soul with guilt. When he made it to a red light he fought with himself as to what was the right thing to do. Eventually he convinced himself to grab the ring and pull with all his might, and jerk the ring from the place it had never before left. Instantly he felt naked and ashamed. What would Rukia have said is she was here to see him?
He looked down at his finger, bare for the first time in five years. He sighed at the pale ring of flesh the lack of sunlight left on his tanned hand. Even if he took the ring off it would stay with him. He slipped the ring back home, where it forever belonged. He looked straight down the road ahead of him. At this moment he would decide. He could take a right and go straight home, or he could continue forward and into the unknown.
Again his hazel eyes fell on the shining gold band, this time begging his wife to tell him what to do. He needed a sign. Before one could arrive, a car horn behind him blared. He looked up, saw the green light, and slammed on the gas. He looked at the ring again and saw it sparkle. Fate sure as hell had a way of sneaking up on you.
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The angelic voice of Frank Sinatra rang through the empty restaurant. Empty but for a group of old men set up at a round table in the back, enjoying their bi-weekly poker game. Once again the sounds of bickering broke out, almost suffocating Frank's gentle symphony.
"My, my. Starting up so soon?" Ichimaru Gin, his voice snaked through the room and calling Ulquiorra's and Grimmjow's fight to a halt. Old age hit Ichimaru early in life. First his hair turned gray when he was just in his thirties, then it hit his eyes. Old, but still a man of pride, he refused to wear glasses. So he walked around with his eyes in a permanent squint. He slumped down in his seat tired from a long day's work. Who knew retirement could be so hard?
He nodded at Aizen, signaling for him to deal the grinning man in. Aizen looked the youngest of them all. When the four of them left America for Japan, they all had their get rich quick schemes. Aizen, being an expert planner, was the only one who made it. So when old age started to hit him, he found the best surgeon he could and fought it off. The three buddies would joke -behind his back of course- about how much of him was still human instead of plastic.
Without word or warning Ulquiorra stood and went to the door.
"Was it something I said?" Gin asked, looking somewhat hurt.
"What's the matter Ulquiorra?" Aizen didn't look up from the cards he shuffled in his hand. Grimmjow didn't voice a question of his own, but stretched across the table and grabbed a fist full of Ulquiorra's poker chips.
At the door, Ulquiorra met a mop of messy orange hair. Ichigo was snapping his fingers and clapping his hands together while he rocked from the balls of his feet to his heels. Clearly he hadn't noticed Ulquiorra open the door.
"You, son," Ichigo jumped at Ulquiorra's monotone voice. "are either very late of very early."
"Yeah…" Ichigo drawled, sheepishly, ruffling his hand in his hair. "I'm actually here because I got a call about my cell phone."
Ulquiorra didn't reply, he simply turned and walked back into the restaurant… but he didn't close the door either… Taking another leap of fate, he followed the pale old man inside, closing the door gently behind him. As far as he could tell by the man's blank face, he seemed to approve.
"We have a lot of cell phones. I personally don't understand the things. In my day things could wait until you got home."
"Yeah I guess a lot of things can…" Ichigo replied, vaguely paying attention, as he tried to look in the back for the waitress. "So you are closed for the night? Waiters, waitresses, busboys… all went home already?"
"Cell phones have too many gadgets. My grandson plays those television games on his."
"A young waitress called about my phone…" a bead of aggravated sweat was starting to form on Ichigo's brow.
"A phone is for phone calls, that's what I think."
"No argument there." Ichigo replied, giving up. It was clear the old man was the only one there. He would get his phone and go home. Clearly it was never meant to be with him and the waitress.
"No doubt your wife is waiting for you in the car…"
"No, sir, no wife." Ichigo suddenly wanted to go home a lot more than before.
"Now why would that be?" Ulquiorra stopped in his tracks and turned, noticing Ichigo jump again.
"She… she died."
"Oh?" the old mans face filled with emotion, and his lips turned upward slightly. "Isn't that some news?" Ulquiorra put his hand on Ichigo's shoulder and led him to the back where Aizen was still shuffling.
"Who do you have there, Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow raised a brow and gave the nervous, confused Ichigo a once over.
"This is…"
"Kurosaki!" Ichigo stammered out, "Kurosaki Ichigo."
"His wife is dead." Ulquiorra added. Instantly everyone at the table stood and reached out to take his hand. All of them seemed way too glad to hear about his wife's death. He leaned back and eyed the door. He could get a new cell phone, right? Plus they were old, he could out run them.
"Take my seat." Pale hands pushed down on Ichigo's shoulders, slamming him into the hard wooden seat. "I'll go retrieve your phone."
"Great." Ichigo moaned. Oh Lord he was trapped. Mentally he cursed the Kia that honked at him.
"You look familiar." Ichigo leaned back as the plastic man introducing himself as Aizen leaned forward.
"I-I do?"
"What do you do Kusosaki-san?" The man named Gin asked.
"I'm a building engineer."
"Kurosaki designs!" Grimmjow seemed excited about his revelation. "You designed that building on ninth street."
"No that was my father. My greater known designs are…" He stopped to think about it "The building on Aoi and the Urahara complex."
"My daughter loves the Urahara Complex she always holds her graduation ceremonies there."
"Oh no…how'd they wrap you up in all of this madness?" A lovely older gal asked from the door to the stairs. All of the men at the table stood at her presence and Ichigo rushed to join them. She waved them off and they all sat. Traits of an older generation.
"His name is Kurosaki Ichigo. His wife is dead." Gin introduced, pointing at the young man.
Why does everyone keep saying that?
"Really, now?" Rangiku beamed. "Well have fun tonight honey!" She wacked him on the back, stronger than he thought an older woman could. "Now who's taking me home?"
"You live three doors away. If anything happens whisper and we will be there in a flash." Grimmjow groaned when Rangiku's hand came in contact with the back of his head.
"I will escort you home." Ulquiorra reappeared, taking Rangiku's bag and walking her to the door.
What about my phone?
As soon as the green eyed man was gone, Ichigo was bombarded with one question after the other. He didn't know how much time had past before Ulquiorra had returned, but by the time he did, Ichigo, kind of, didn't want to leave. Kind of. He was having himself a good time. Kind of. He was even going to walk home with a nice pile of money, too.
"Ulquiorra have I ever told you I hate you? This kid has cleaned me out!"
"It was your fault you kept betting, Grimmjow." Aizen smirked.
"I agree with Aizen." The pale man said.
"You would."
"Come, Come now, this is just a friendly game of cards." Gin put his hands up in protest just as a blood curdling scream sounded from the floor above them.
Ichigo's protective instincts, having been with a woman most of his life, kicked in and he bolted straight to his feet, knocking his chair back and over unnoticed. The scream stopped and was followed by fast and loud steps making there way from one side of the building to the other and then down the stairs. The other men seemed unfazed, and just looked up to follow the footsteps straight to the door next to their table. The wooden "employees only" door slammed open and Ichigo instantly turned fire engine red at the sight before him.
There at the door, frazzled, in a shower cap, strawberry pajamas and a bath robe was the girl he was fighting with himself over. For some reason he couldn't take his eyes off the mangy woman. Even in her chaotic state she still looked dazzling, comedic, but dazzling all the same. Why? Sure he was no idiot, she was a beautiful woman. Her cream colored skin, her big gray eyes, and her long amber colored hair, he knew was hiding in that cap of hers. Not to mention her perfect hourglass figure and generous chest. She was a fantasy in itself. A night with her would make most straight men ready to die happy. But he was a man who loved his wife more than anything. He usually just looked at women as women. Not like he looked at Rukia, not like he was looking at the gray eyed vixen standing breathlessly at the door.
"Grandpa!" Orihime gasped, grabbing onto Ulquiorra's arm. "The storm is coming this way! Why didn't you tell me? The flowers are in danger!"
"Orihime, I would like you to meet Kurosaki Ichigo." Orihime slowly looked over at Ichigo, who was shyly waving with one hand while he kept the other in his pocket. She paled to a color that rivaled the man in her grasp. "Kurosaki, this is my granddaughter Inoue Orihime."
"We've met, she's the waitress who handled my order last night. You're also the one who found my phone, aren't you?" Ichigo reached out his hand to shake hers. He was hesitant. The second she came through that door his heart started to race and his palms got sweaty.
But when their hands touched, his heart calmed and his nerves disappeared. He couldn't help the relaxed smile that formed at the corner of his lips. Her small hand in his just felt so… at home.
"Hi, I'm Inoue Orihime." Orihime quickly grabbed the top of her robe to cover her neck. OH GOD DON"T TELL ME HE SAW IT!?
"Oh and thank you for the chimi, it was delicious."
"I'm Inoue Orihime." She stuttered out, completely bedazzled and unable to process anything more than her name and his hand touching hers. She just stared at their hands. Grimmjow left out a chuckle but was quickly cut off Aizen's stern glare.
Ichigo chuckled as well. Her reaction to him was priceless. And lord holding her hand took ten years off his shoulders. "That's what I hear."
"Hey, Inoue Orihime." Orihime looked back at Grimmjow and let go of Ichigo's hand. "Your flowers?"
"OH YES!" Orihime ran to the back door and slipped on her shoes. Ichigo's eyes were locked on her every move. Grimmjow flicked a chip through the air, hitting it against Ichigo's nose, breaking him from his trance.
"Why don't you lend the lady a hand Kurosaki?"
"Oh yes, I would hate for Orihime's flowers to die. That would be a real shame." Gin added.
"OH! NO! You don't have to help me! I can do it!" Before any protest could be heard, she was out the door. And all eyes fell on Ichigo.
"Do.. Do you think I should help her?"
"Go!" All of them shouted in sync.
Ichigo's smirk grew and he followed Orihime's path. The second Ichigo closed the door behind him, the four old men plastered themselves against the window, just trying to sneak a peak.
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"Okay, so… Like this?" Ichigo asked, trying his best to fight the wind and keep the cover down long enough to secure it.
"Exactly, you are a real natural, Kurosaki-kun."
"Ahh… "Ichigo froze. "I think I killed it." Ichigo pointed at a plant, it's stem bent where he hit it, Orihime leaned over the island of flowers that separated them.
"It's okay. It will survive." She continued to talk, but Ichigo couldn't pay attention, despite his best efforts.
She was so close to him that he could smell the citrus sent of her soap or her perfume, he didn't care which and didn't spend anytime thinking about it. Her sent mixed with the smell of the fresh spring flowers and the impending rain fall was just too much for his brain to process all at once. He couldn't stop himself.
"Wow, you smell, great,"
Immediately Ichigo regretted the complement.
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The woman had a head as hard as a brick wall. Not even his father who was constantly trying to kill him, could land a blow that painful. In truth it hurt a lot, but he was just more shocked about it than anything. Grimmjow seemed to think it was the funniest thing that had happened to him in ages, because even as they waited in the emergency room to get stitches, the teal haired man wouldn't, or couldn't, stop laughing.
The doctor seemed to agree it was a hilarious case, because he kept smiling and telling who ever passed what happened to him. In the end he got four stitches on his lip, where he bit it after her head whacked into his chin. After that he stumbled back and hit a shelf, causing one of the flower pots to fall on top of his head. So there was ten stitches for that, too.
Ichigo looked at the bed next to him where they had Orihime breathing into a paper bag, Rangiku was rubbing soothing circles on the girls back. Her expression was so funny he wanted to smile or laugh, but the right side of his lip was numb and he couldn't move it.
Orihime treated him like he was made of porcelain on the way back to Hueco Mundo. The four men and Rangiku quickly found excuses to leave the two of them alone in front of the restaurant. Despite their hesitation they let him drive home, since he didn't have a concussion. Ichigo was leaning against his truck and watched Orihime look through the first aid kit the hospital gave him to make sure they hadn't forgotten to give him anything.
"Inoue, you have to calm down, you are going to give yourself a heart attack."
"What?!" Inoue's hand instantly went up to the coller of her shirt, and made sure it was closed. Ichigo didn't seem to notice.
"Seriously." Ichigo took the bag out of her hand and tossed it onto the truck hood.
"I'm sorry Kurosaki-kun, I just feel so bad about hurting you!"
"Can I take you out sometime?" Ichigo startled himself with the his own frankness and sudden confession.
"Yes?"
"Is that a question?
"No! It's a yes-yes."
The rain started up, but neither of them moved to take cover.
"Tomorrow night?"
"Yes."
"Pick you up at seven?"
"Yes."
Ichigo laughed, the pain in his lip stopped him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." With each Yes she nodded her head and blinked her eyes in time with its movement. God she was just a big ball of cute and innocent wasn't she?
"You are a difficult woman." She giggled with a dark blush covering her cheeks. Ichigo got into his truck but left the door open so he could keep talking to Orihime.
"Oh, your phone!"
"I'll get it tomorrow." Ichigo closed the door and started the engine, raising a brow when Orihime tapped on his window.
"Kurosaki-kun?" She held up the bag from the hospital. Shyly he rolled down the window and took it.
"Seven?"
"Yosh!"
"Alright then, goodbye Inoue."
"I'll see you tomorrow Kurosaki-kun!"
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R&R
:::MrsMoshae:::