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He's No Prince; He's a Demon, Waking up from His Slumber.
The shooting ran smoothly, for they had a coincidental meeting with the most gorgeous weather of Thailand, a wonder which happens every a decade.
The magnificently brilliant sunset clouds weaved out different sceneries every minute, providing a new background. The photographer has nearly gone mad with happiness; under such wonderful evening, every model was sparkling with charm, matched by the wavy sea and the lovely sky. This alluring weather lasted for the whole week, thus the shooting, planned to be for a fortnight, was shortened by a week.
"Ishida-san said," The excited planner exclaimed. "It's okay to stay for the other week if we've finished the shooting early. It's a week of joy and fun! The reward's not changing, and all the enjoyments are paid from the budget!"
The group cheered. The group of young and lovely damsels ran to the sea, having fun with riding the waves. Screams of joy and laughter like wind chimes embellished the tropical island into a paradise. They were, after all, still young like the sun at about noon; once released from working, they joined together for games. Orihime joined in their games, splashing in the lovely waves, riding the water bikes and even teaming up with Matsumoto Rangiku for beach volleyball. However, half a day has passed, and Ichigo was nowhere to be seen.
Thinking of him, she broke up from the bunch and started to look for him. After fifteen minutes, she sat in the shallow waters with both her legs kicking the water, sipping the icy-cold Coke.
"Lemme have a drink." Out of the blue, Ichigo emerged from the water, took off his mask and took a swig from the snatched bottle.
"Where've you been to, leaving me behind?" Orihime puffed out her cheeks to show her sulks. "Oh yes; I've just seen Renji with his models in the hotel. Is he having shows too in here?"
"Why bother to know? I guess they're having something to do here." He was being vague. Orihime now then saw that Ichigo was wearing a diving suit, leaving only his glamorous face uncovered. "Having fun with surfing in the waves? How about diving? I can teach you; it's way interesting than that stupid board."
Tiding over the always-choking period at the beginning, Orihime discovered the other side of the calm and charming blue. Under the surface, the reflected sun looked like a bright sunflower. A dazzling variety of species of fish flocked around them, as if someone was throwing shards of gems in front of their eyes. The odd anemones swayed their tentacles along with the currents of the gentle waves, the starfishes scattered on the seafloor of clean fine sand…it was a paradise. Staying by her side was Ichigo, swimming like an agile merman and pointing her to all the wonderful sceneries, lost in a blink of an eye. She felt like a mermaid herself as well, coursing through this dimension which she believed would never be seen again with him.
First frolicking with the models for the better part of the afternoon, then diving with Ichigo; it really wore Orihime out. When she reached to the beach, she could not stand well on her own wobbly legs, due to her tiredness and the heavy tanks on her back which was about to drag her down onto her butt.
"Watch out!" Ichigo dashed out to hold her still. She flashed him her smile with the effects of the shimmering sea.
A light click and a snap, they swirled their heads around and saw the embarrassed photographer with his camera.
"That's also part of your work?" Ichigo called.
"N-No!" Despite his rather muscular build and tall frame, the caught-red-handed convict blushed. "It's…my personal interest…"
"You've not paid the fees for a model," Ichigo smiled with Orihime still in his arms. "Beware that the agency's going to be mad with it."
The photographer looked at the pair of beauties with love in his eyes. His body ached to take more photos, but his mind told him not to. The model noticed his dilemma and deepened his smile for a fraction.
"You can only use compact cameras, and don't forget to get a copy for me as well."
"O-Of course! Thank you very much!" He grabbed his device and continued. The supermodel's glamour was within his expectation, but with the addition of this pure wench in his arms standing by his side, a whole new kind of radiance emitted from the couple.
He was positive that it was the radiance of love.
Orihime stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing her hair into a messy bird's nest. Though he has taken a bath before her, Ichigo's hair showed no signs of being dried at all. Despite that, he only buried his eyes into his copy of King Lear.
"Why aren't you drying your hair?" She dragged the hairdryer and plugged it. "You'll catch a cold!"
"It'll be dry very soon with this hot weather." He did not want to do all this troublesome stuff.
"You've got the air-con with the lowest temperature again!" She hated people not taking care of themselves. "I'll dry it for you, alright?"
His hair was really fine and soft like silk. It felt like she was weaving the evening sunlight among her fingers. Stroking those locks, Orihime felt a strange sense of fulfilment.
"It's dry enough," With a shake of his head, the locks resumed to their supposed positions, cascading down to his shoulders. "What about you? Have you dried yours?"
Now that she thought of it, Orihime realized that her hair was still wet, dripping with water droplets. Before she could do anything, Ichigo took the dryer from her and helped her to dry it naturally.
"…You look pretty cute with this short hair." His long slim fingers interlaced among her hair, sending shocks of tipsy feelings over her body. "The travelling-along hairstylist did that?" He very much preferred her long waist-length hair and thought that cutting them all away to this shortness to near her armpits was a waste.
"Yep," She flashed her white teeth when she smiled. "It looks cool and good, not to mention it's free of charge!"
"You pretty love money, don't you?" He shook his head. "What the point in saving so much money?"
"I want to have my own property, that's why." She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of Ichigo's gentle hands.
"Your own property?" He stopped for a while. "Why? My house's uninhabitable?"
"No, not that," She explained. "Our house's very nice, but it's just that I want to have a house of my own, with a name plate as 'Inoue Orihime'…" She let herself drowned in the waters of memories, sounding dimly sad. "My family…we used to live in a crammed, filthy apartment with two more families including the landlord's. If we opened the fridge for food to cook at our own pleasure, we'd get yelled at by the landlord. Because of this, I've yearned to own a house of mine with my own money for a long time…"
"Alright, if you want to, then buy one." Ichigo stroked her hair. "Well, we can rent it out. As for you, you're still staying in my house like a good child. Besides, I won't let anyone marry you."
"You're really dictatorial, you know?!"
"You know it only now? Too late," He took a sniff of her locks. "Hmm…what a lovely fragrance. Although I like your long hair better, it can't be helped…"
Orihime's face flushed a new shade of scarlet. "W-What're you doing now?"
"Me? Just finding some 'enjoyment' and 'fun' for myself…" He stroked her hair aside and planted kisses on the nape of her neck.
Orihime fluttered her eyes close and felt her cheeks started to burn. Her heart thumped wayward, as well as the little thoughts that flew all around in her mind. A part of her screamed to push this insolent man away, yet another part had a strong desire for him to carry on, never to stop. Shocks of electricity jabbed every one of her pores, sending shrills down her spine and goose bumps over her skin…
Ichigo reached around and kissed her on the lips and…oh god…umm…what soft lips, like chewing a piece of fudge…
"Hey!" She flew her eyelids open out of the blue as she grabbed the hand that has dipped into her bathrobe which belonged to Ichigo. "What the heck do you think you're doing?!"
"Like I've said, just having some fun…" He nipped her ear lightly. No matter how…how sublimely comfortable it was…she hardened her resolve and pushed him away.
"What do you think you're doing, you pervert?!"
"Nah; just thinking of lecturing you about how much fun there'll be within 'depths'. Hmm…as I've thought, your breasts aren't as big as they seem." He blinked like an innocent puppy, even though he was not begging.
"You scurrilous pervert!" Although it was hard to come across such a fine pervert, he was still unforgivable. "I don't need to know so many about whatever-depths you're talking about! I'm waiting for the consummation—"
"Oh God! You're now 25, Orihime; not only are you still a virgin, but also have a virgin complex?!" He exclaimed with wide eyes. "It's already the 21st century…"
"What does this have anything to do with whichever century?!" She tightened the necklines of her bathrobe before anything was further revealed and he did anything. "What does this do with you, anyway?!"
"…Well then, it's the best I marry you…" He pulled her into his chest and sighed.
A heavy thud and Ichigo got hit by a where-the-heck-did-it-come-from hard pillow. Orihime leapt far away from him, grabbed a random set of street clothes, rushed into the bathroom and yelled as she got changed, "I really—and I mean utterly—abhor men's such irresponsible way of saying things! Marrying me only after such obnoxious thing—seeing me as a plaything?! You blue bundle of men…following only what your lower body tells you to do!" She continued to scold for nearly ten minutes, though she was already decently dressed.
"I won't let you get with it!" She pointed at his nose and left the room furiously with a bang on the door. It was really lucky for that poor thing did not break off its hinges.
Ichigo raked his fingers through his hair to a slightly messier state. Alas…it really took him a great deal of time to tempt this conservative girl—oddly staying so innocently pure in this sinful world—to this state. In the end, he lost her again…
Orihime did not understand how Ichigo's brain worked, but she knew that her cheeks were still burning and her heart was racing like she has just finished a 100m race in 9 seconds. This accursed pervert! He should act like the perfect prince as everyone thought he ought to be!
She stomped only a few rooms across and spotted Matsumoto Rangiku and a few other models. Some smirked while some had a smile which it was best for them not to have.
"What happened? Had a squabble with our supermodel? How does it feel to stay in the same room with a gay?" Rangiku asked ambiguously. The others snickered smugly.
"He's a gay in my ass." Orihime flushed.
The girls exchanged awed eyes and Rangiku edged closer, "So…how's his…'dancing moves'?"
No matter what a bastard or what a pervert Ichigo was, they had no right to make any low comments about him. After all, she still needed to care about his honourable "faces" as a man.
"So well that I'm in no league to match him!" Orihime's face changed into maroon with slight purple and left with a huff. What were these women thinking; why did they not go chit-chatting about other better things, like the latest cosmetics or fashions, but about making love?!
Yet she left too quickly that she did not notice the raging anger and jealousy in their fiery eyes.
The next day, Orihime has totally forgotten the incident last night, as if nothing has happened.
When it was time to rest, Ichigo nagged her by making a few bothersome complaints. However, she turned a cold shoulder towards him, shunning off the noises behind her. After a vain thirty minutes, he only scratched his head and went to bed like an obedient child, staying quiet for the whole time.
As night fell and the sky was adorned with stars, Rangiku jabbed her back and it was then she recalled what has happened between them with slight unpleasantness. As quietly as possible, they crept out of the room, trying not to wake the other person in the room; Orihime knew Ichigo is a grizzly bear if he wakes up untimely.
"Maa, don't be so gruffly," The smile of a beauty could always disarm anyone's anger. "I'm just a bit envious, I admit it. After all, you're having a fair that transcends both genders all to yourself…"
"It's not all to myself…" Orihime's cheeks got a little pink.
"Now, would you like to have some pickings?" The busty blonde closed an eye and put a finger on her lips. Heck, Orihime knew she was not a lesbian, but her heart was beating so quickly with such a seductive move!
"What pickings?" Though being tempted by a harpy, her vigilance perked.
"Oh, c'mon, don't be so nervous!" Rangiku giggled. "There's a small pub which's caught news that we're here, so they invited us secretly for a show. We don't want the company to know this; we aren't getting much when they learn of this! Besides, our make-up artist's really nasty with that always-babbling mouth of his. Then I thought, 'How about our Orihime-chan?'" She whispered a tempting number by her ear. "Just help the six of us with some make-up! Oh, please ~ " The other girls flocked around them, begging in a continuous chorus.
Orihime felt her head was throbbing from the nonstop sound waves. "Alright, I get it. So, when and where?"
Rangiku tugged her hand affectionately. "You're our saviour, Orihime-chan! The car's just outside. Let's go!"
After a few minutes of driving, they reached to the pub and entered from the backstage. "Wait here for a moment, Orihime-chan. We're going to greet the manager."
And there Orihime waited in the backstage with just a small lamp with dim light, all alone. She maybe a little stupid, she admitted, but something inside her warned that this poor powder room was just too creepy. The booming beats of the music in the pub passed through the thick curtain into her ears, going straight to her heart. She realized only by now that she was in a foreign country, and their language was something she could not comprehend. After ten minutes, the ones she knew have yet returned. She was on tenterhooks and had goose bumps all over her skin. The uneasiness intensified in folds as some people lifted up the curtain to peek at her. She wanted to leave, but to her horror, the backdoor was locked.
Orihime panicked, feeling as if someone was gripping at her throat. Just then, the curtain was pushed aside roughly. She jumped a feet high as she came face-to-face with an equally-bewildered Renji.
"Orihime?" He came up to her with a stride, his face painted with disbelief. "You? You've promised to…perform?!"
Perform? Perform what? "…Rangiku-san brought me here, asking me to apply make-up for them…"
He took deep breaths to calm down, but his voice was still edged with overflowing nervousness and fear, "Oh, sweet God…where's Kurosaki Ichigo?"
"He's in the hotel. Aren't you staying in the same hotel?" Orihime could not make heads or tails of the situation, but she could sense a horrible feeling of some approaching dangers.
He grabbed her arm. "You can't be here! Just come with me!"
"No!" Orihime wanted to break free from his iron grip. Ichigo has warned her over and over again that Renji was no good man. "Where're you bringing me to?"
"Do you have any idea how they introduce today's programme? Tonight's highlight show of this drugs-abusing pub is raping! Just follow me if you want to see tomorrow as what you're now!" He dragged Orihime roughly. They dived into the crowd and squeezed their way through. They hid near the bar counter and the door was just right in front of their eyes, only to be heavily guarded.
Renji made a call with trembling hands. "Just pick the call, goddamn it, Kurosaki…I don't want to lose my life because of your woman…Kurosaki?! Your woman's in whatchamacallit-pub—" However, before he could finish his sentence, the phone was snatched from him and it crashed into pieces on the other side of the wall.
"Where do you think you're bringing this woman to, man? She's the lead of the night," A brawny man spat with an additional kick at Renji. His Japanese ascent was a bit strange, and his muscular torso towered over them. "Hand her over."
"What does he want?" Orihime whimpered behind Renji, trembling all over.
"He asks Renji to hand you over." Stepping out from the man's back was Rangiku with a cold cruel grin. "How foolish you are, Renji, wanting a piece of the one I've brought here." She walked over to Orihime and laid her hand on her cheek, fondling it lovingly. "Poor little jasmine, I'm sorry, but you can't have your gorgeous Prince-Charming to protect you with his back. You're having loads of waiting men to have a go with you tonight! Just come over here like an obedient child, and you won't feel any unnecessary pain. Squeeze your eyes shut and clench your jaws tight, everything's over in minutes! It's just that you'll be breaking all your teeth, that is." She got into a shrilling laughter with the others.
Orihime could not believe that they were the girls that played together with her before. They were so full of energy and youth under the warm sun. On the other hand, they looked like ogres with a human hide under such phantom light.
"I'm really out of ideas, miss." Renji shook his head and took her wrist. "I really want to save you, but I don't want to lose my life when saving you…just how unlucky are you…?" Before he finished "you", it happened…
Renji flung Orihime to the other side and he threw himself into the brawny. However, before he could yell at Orihime to run away, a curdling cry of pain escaped from his throat, startling her. She saw the handle of a knife sticking out from Renji's stomach, and the man in question fell onto the ground in slow motion.
"It's starting! The show's beginning!" After all the abused dosages, the guests, now on cloud nine, flocked and by the call crowded around them. Everything was shunned from Orihime's senses; she could neither hear them nor see them. All she knew were her tears trailing silently down her cheeks and she was on her knees, holding Renji in her arms tightly.
"Don't pull it out." He wheezed, like a dying man in his last minutes. "If you do, I'll definitely be a goner. Why don't you escape from here?"
"You shouldn't sacrifice yourself because of me," Her tears rained down on his face. "Don't you always…hope…?"
"Hope you to be a prostitute?" Renji forced a smile. "C'mon, lassie. We've been colleagues for more than a year, no matter what. Frankly speaking, I've originally thought you to be my plaything then I can have you sold for a better price, or keeping you as hostage to menace Kurosaki making more money for me; it's just that you're really dumb. Such a dumb but innocently pure jasmine…being in such a murky vat of the modelling industry, but never tainted by even a speck of dirt…" He pressed the bleeding wound as hard as he could, but he found that it was getting difficult for him, for his consciousness was slipping at an alarming rate. "What a strange thing; even I don't want you to be polluted…such a strange jasmine…"
"The moving scenes end here." The man grinned with madness. "Now, the show's really starting! I, Yammy, shall be this wench's first man!" The guests roared and cheered.
Orihime could guess the situations out pretty much from all the surrounding noises, albeit not knowing what they really meant. From the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of a beer bottle and smashed it with the floor. She smiled cruelly as the sharp broken edges gleamed under the flashlights.
"Whoever comes near me gets to have a taste with this fella!" Her soft growl raised up a gale of laughter. It stopped until one of the foolish men who sprang at her had a few more additional bleeding wounds at his back, screaming in agony, writhing on the floor. It worked. She dragged Renji to lean against the bar counter, clenched her jaws and waved the bottle threateningly. Under the flashlights, her bloodshot eyes glowed like a devil.
"The little hare's cornered by the pack of wolves, and she's now snapping her incisors to scare her enemies away! What an interesting girl!" Yammy laughed. "Anyone who tames this shrew gets to have his way with her first! Tsk, how generous I am today. Lock the doors! Let's see where she could get to!"
Some jumped onto her impatiently, and they got bloody wounds on their faces immediately. Her daring guts made these lusty sex beasts take a step back. They cursed as much as they could, but they did not dare to step forward.
"Damn you, bitch! My hand…!"
"Fuck! How dare you, you lowly prostitute…what have you done to my face!"
She held Renji tightly to her side. Her eyes had a spark of clear-headed sadism. "The ones who dare to come closer will be the one that falls dead by me!"
"Faugh!" A man with blue hair shoved the men away. His actions and the tattoos at the eyes made Orihime think of a hungry panther. "Such a useless bunch of garbage. You call yourself a man if you can't even take this woman down?!"
"Stop boasting, Grimmjow. Just go get her if you have the guts, otherwise get outta here!" Yammy snapped coldly.
Grimmjow sneered, held a high stool in his hand and threw it at Orihime. A clear snap and a scream from Orihime were resulted, as well as with the broken bottle no longer in her hand.
"Grimmjow! You've broken her neck! What the point in playing with a dead thing?" Some roared their complaints.
"It's just an arm bone! As if you could die because of it!" He grabbed at her collar. "So, you can no longer wave that dangerous thing, huh, woman? Don't worry, though I maybe too huge for you, I'll end things quickly; I don't like dragging things on. You'll totally forget why you're waving that thing in the first place…"
The sharp pain of her wrist was incomparable to the fear and unwillingness in her heart. If only she knew that her first would be like this…she should have let Ichigo have his way last night!
She did not know how many were pressing her arms and legs down. Her clothes were ripped off from her body like paper. She struggled with all her might, but being cuffed in return. She held her tears back until her jeans were slipping off.
"Ichigo! Ichigo!" She cried, though knowing that it's in vain…
"No matter how much you call, he—" Rangiku was enjoying her struggles that she did not notice the fist that came towards her. She was sent flying for a few meters before blacking out on the floor.
"Come, if you dare." His tone was below zero; it was so cold that it could freeze anyone to death. He has dropped his head and his long hair obscured his face from being seen. Holding Grimmjow tightly by his collar, Ichigo skilfully beat him into a bloody pulp with his bare fist. After five full minutes, he sent the bloody giddy lump known as Grimmjow flying to the other side of the pub, and it was yet the end. Ichigo dragged the body back to the centre of the pub, seized the right wrist in his iron grip and held the forefinger like a twig in his slender long ones. "Or, would you like it in this way?"
A sickening cluck and Grimmjow's scream echoed in the pub, as his finger was crooking in a weird angle.
The staffs, who have rushed in with clubs as thick as Ichigo's thigh, shuddered uncontrollably in front of the brutal and sinister atmosphere as that man executed savage tortures. Grimmjow was already known for his lethal short temper and excessive aggression towards those who dared to be in his way. When he unleashed his anger, he would destroy anything that came in sight. However, such an impulsive plug-ugly like Grimmjow was now being pushed by another man way more bloodthirsty than him with mere brute force. The staffs thought that they have been living with a destructive panther, but now they were facing a merciless beast which would not rest till it has seen enough blood and torture.
"How about another one, hmm?" This time, it was not just one; all were sticking at odd angles like the real twigs of a tree. Just a fling, the right shoulder was dislocated but relocated the moment he hit the wall again. Grimmjow's eyes rolled to the back of his skull and he passed out.
All the men that were pressing Orihime down fled in just a blink. The photographer took off his coat and draped it over Orihime's shivering body, smeared with sweat, tears and all sorts of dirt.
Ichigo finally stood straight and from Orihime's angle, she saw his face through his hair and gasped. It was no longer the gorgeous face that she was familiar with. Like usual, it was plainly expressionless, but it was way different. She was sure that it was not because of his draping hair that his eyes were darkened; the sclera itself was black in colour than the usual white. In the horrible black was a blazing golden-yellow iris that warned of grave danger, like a monster's.
Ichigo raised his fist that he has just used to beat Grimmjow to unconsciousness and spotted the blood on his knuckles. He stuck out his tongue and licked them off like a cat cleaning its paw. After no more blood stained his hand, he covered his mouth with the same hand, but it could hardly hide the wide psychotic grin that was nearly ripping his face into halves. He broke out laughing manically, and it was never a sound that Orihime has imagined; it was so resounding and sonorous that she could not believe that it could belong to any man. She could not find the Ichigo she knew in this body that belonged to "Kurosaki Ichigo", but a sadistic berserker that taunts his enemies with raw force and strength.
The shrills of crazed laughter scared off most of the men, but not Yammy.
"What agility. For you able to come in, there's surely help, otherwise you can't get in with the door locked inside. Who's the guard?!" The muscular giant roared.
A shaking man stumbled forward, sweating profusely. "B-Boss…I'm just having a glimpse—" Just a swing of Yammy's fist and he was down on the floor, unconscious. With a growl, the giant turned his attention on Ichigo.
"Alright, belle, let's have a dance, shall we?" He pulled out a dagger from his pocket. The sharp blade shone with coldness despite the flashing lights as he passed it from his right hand to his left, then back to his right. "C'mon, lovely babe…little Niña…"
"Which eye of yours tells you that I'm a woman, huh?" Ichigo replied icily. In the split-of-a-second interval, he slipped himself swiftly in the space between Yammy and his dagger, swirled around, hit Yammy's chest with his elbow, kicked the dagger up to the ceiling where it stuck deeply in and slammed the titan's head hard into the floor. The golden-yellow irises gleamed like the warning flashes. "I asked which eye, you swine, huh? Or I'll take it as both?"
He hoisted his hand up and grinned cruelly as he brought the hand down. Yammy gave a bloodcurdling scream as he covered his left eye. A sick squelching sound, and Ichigo's beautiful carefully-manicured long nails—now more like claws to others—were stained with blood as he pulled his fingers out from Yammy's socket.
"Stop right there!" Orihime could finally find her voice back.
"I won't spare him!" Ichigo howled. His eyes blazed like tongues of flames from Hell, dancing wildly, and his face was distorted by his infernal wrath. He raised his hand again and everyone took a step back. They did not know who would be his next victim, be it still Yammy or this pure little flower. He seemed to have lost his mind to this blood-lusting beast…
Orihime was not scared in the least; or that her anger has overwhelmed her fears. She stormed out and ignored Yammy's pained howl as her heel stepped on his right eye. She stopped right in front of Ichigo and looked straight into his inhuman eyes. "You can return to settle with these dregs anytime you like! Think about Renji! Renji's…he's dying…!" Like a balloon, she burst into tears, along with all the courage she has gathered until then gone in a pop. She hid her face in Ichigo's chest and snaked her arms around to hug him.
Her touch had an effect on him as all of his actions froze. Like a puppet with all the controlling threads severed, his head and hoisted arms dropped, and his hair hid his face again. He was still standing not because of Orihime holding him; he would never allow himself to be weak and fall down in front of the ones he treasured greatly, so his legs could never give up on him, no matter what has happened. He took in a few deep breathes to cool his head down and when he raised his head for his face to be in the light again, it was no longer the sinister face with those predatory eyes, but the same old detached face with cold hard ambers.
"I'll give you quarter…temporarily." It did not mean that he would not give those men a fierce hard glare that could make them shrink and shiver in fear like now. "Move!"
The staff carried Renji away with a stretcher immediately, and Ichigo left, hugging Orihime tightly in his chest.
After a few minutes of checking, the doctor announced that Orihime did not have any bone broken; it was just a nasty contusion.
Orihime pulled her hand—now as huge as a rugby wrapped in bandages—close to her, still reliving the shock just now again and again in her mind, unable to get rid any of them.
"How stupid you are…such a stupid girl you are…" Like a kid squeezing his precious teddy bear dearly in his arms, Ichigo pulled her into his chest. "How could you trust those women…?" Truth be told, even he could not believe that those girls had already fallen to this degree of dark evilness.
"How's Renji? How's he now?" She tugged Ichigo's jacket tearfully. But before Ichigo let a pronunciation escape from his lips, Orihime covered her ears. "I'm not listening, I'm not listening! It's all my fault…Renji's surely died ~ "
"Shut the trap up, would you?!" He jerked her hands off and shouted into her ears. "Even he didn't die back there he'll surely die from your curses! He should really thank his damned lucky stars with none of his organs injured and only a serious blood loss! That jerk will live to see his future with that gallon of blood transfusion!"
"Lower your voice, sir! This is the hospital!" At a volume higher than Ichigo's in folds, the nurse shrieked. The two of them immediately zipped their lips up tight as they had the nurse's words echoing in their ears.
"He's alright; he won't die." After a minute, Ichigo murmured softly.
Whining, Orihime threw herself into his chest. "I-I'm…so scared…"
"I know; you're very brave…and such an idiot!" He flicked her forehead lightly. She was so overwhelmed by tonight's events that she did not retort or pout or do anything to show her discontent.
The photographer stood a good distance away from them, watching them nestling against each other. Just as he was about to retreat from there, Ichigo halted him. "Say your gratitude. It's all thanks to our photographer—Hisagi-san, right? He's been trailing behind you ever since you lot went out. Even if Renji could save you back then…" He felt a shiver of cold running down his spine as he recalled the scene in the pub. "…Anyway, thank you, Hisagi-san."
With a pair of sore eyes as large as walnuts, Orihime hiccupped, "T-Thank you v-v-very much…"
"Oh, please don't be!" A deep flush adorned the photographer's punk-looking face as he waved both of his hands frantically in denial, "I'm not as courageous as Abarai-san, and all I could do was to make phone calls when Inoue-san's in such grave danger…" He lowered his head, "I'm very helpless, after all…"
"If it's not you who opened the door, we'd never made it in time to be in the rescue. Please accept my deepest gratitude, Hisagi-san."
The photographer looked at such a fair and strong man bowing at him humbly with loving eyes. Compared to his fellow photographers, the name Hisagi Shuuhei did not appear on the list of staff often, because he was rather known for being picky; those that are shot by his camera must be the scarce-in-the-world angelic beauties. Dozens of his fellow colleagues fight for this chance, him included for the sake of chasing after Ichigo's splendid silhouette. He had never thought that such beautiful bravery could also be discovered from Orihime. For this, he felt glad for them, as well as a bit sad at the same time. No wonder why they were attracted to each other…
"Well, let me bring you back to the hotel." Hisagi played with the key of his motorbike. "At this late hour, it's really the best for you to travel with someone who know you around to drive you to places, unless you want to experience more 'thrills'…" He chuckled at Orihime as she shrank behind Ichigo in fright and soon trembling in fear as Ichigo shot him a cold glare for saying such a threat to Orihime.
However, after the trip, Ichigo pretty much regretted to have heeded to Hisagi's advice. He himself was pale as a sheet of paper as he brought a half-unconscious puking Orihime back to their room as quickly as possible after thanking the photographer with a bit haste.
God, does the photographer have a dual personality that no one knows of? He is…such a manic once on the bike! If he has known it, he should have taken a taxi no matter what, even threatening the driver if he dared to take a wrong turn.
Ichigo swore to himself: he will never ride on anyone's motorbike ever again, no matter their trustworthiness. Oh, but before that, do not EVER ask him to go overseas again.
After taking a bath with difficulty, Orihime curled herself up into a ball in Ichigo's embrace, sobbing softly. The more she recalled the devilish events of the night, the more she shook in terror. She pulled herself closer to him, firmed her determination and took the initiative to kiss him jerkily.
"Not tonight." He pressed his lips on her forehead.
"Hey!" She puffed out her cheeks. "You know how hard it's for me to decide to finally offer you my body?!"
"You've just experienced a great shock, and if you do that, you'll surely regret it all after tonight." Ichigo explained. "Besides, I don't want to get another hit by your pillows."
"I knew that you don't want to marry me," She moped. "But I…"
"Who said that I don't want to marry you?" He was still peaceful. "I'm certainly taking you as my wife. Otherwise I can't imagine how many husbands you'll need to protect you with such stupidity. I'm marrying you for the sake for my fellow guys, so that they won't have to lose their lives if they travel to Hell with you."
"You…!" Orihime sat up in the bed in a shot, pointing an angry finger at his nose.
"Finish your glass of milk and go to sleep." His hard tone allowed no rebuttal. Spotting the scratch on her forehead, his voice softened again subconsciously. "I'm right here."
After Orihime was fast asleep, Ichigo pulled her into his chest, but his face was horribly dark.
Even though it is not him, someone is surely travelling to Hell.
Orihime learnt that that drugs-abusing pub was burnt down to nothing only after a few days.
"A masked man rushed in and drove off all the people by firing his guns," The planner said dreamily. "He then burnt the pub down with a torch! Woah…it's so dramatic…"
They went back to Japan after Orihime's hand was better. She noticed that the girls were missing on the plane.
"Where're they?" Although she hated them, she never hoped that they would be hurt.
"Those girls? They've had a good lesson learnt, so I thought they've returned to Japan earlier than we do?" Ichigo smiled gently. Orihime noticed that the grimmer he was, the more breathtaking his smiles were.
Well, I am in a great mood. I am not laying my fingers on women with bad intentions? Who said that stupid thing; why not? He believed that those women who rely on their faces for a living could carry on such a life. It was just that they might have to offer scads to cosmetic surgeons if they wanted to do so.
As for those rape-loving dregs…I think the seabed of Phuket would be a nice place for sleeping.
Explanations:
Nothing necessary.
Author Speaking:
He he…MUA-HA-HA-HA! There's no way not bringing out the Hollow when putting Ichigo in the Dark Path! Yay! It fits so perfectly! Many hugs from me if you've guessed it out before coming to here!
Last but not least, Yachiru's asking for reviews from you guys on my behalf because if you do, she's generously giving her stock of sweets to you!
Kuroi Kokoro 09