Title: Bun in the Bakery - Chapter Two: Week Six
Warnings: het (IchiHime), pregnancy
Disclaimer: These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. This will probably (never) be updated monthly, until I eventually drop it like every other project ever. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.
Authors Note: Sorry for the long absence! I've been trying to get back to writing and have mostly been succeeding this week, although work's been killing me lately. Anyway, I think last chapter I accidentally put that this was an AU in the Warnings section – it's not, I just copied the titling format from a different fic and accidentally left 'AU' in there.
"Hime-nee-chan, you're going to be late!"
The blonde young woman at the front counter called out one more time toward the back of the small pastry shop, her pretty brown eyes scanning for signs of her absent sister-in-law.
"I'm sorry!" a voice answered back, "Is Ichigo-kun out there yet?" Another second passed before the distressed redhead appeared in the doorway leading to the kitchen area of the shop, adjusting her white skirt, earrings, and shoes.
"Uh huh," Yuzu, her younger sister-in-law responded, nodding her head, "He's outside in the cab. He's been waiting a while..."
"I'm sorry!" Orihime apologized again, this time with a bow, "It's just that I wanted to catch up on some of the dough prep and I got behind because my tummy was all topsy-turvy earlier and I guess I lost track of time thinking about what color balloons Urahara-san used and before I knew it, it was already this late!"
Poor Yuzu attempted to shush her about half-way through, all to no avail.
"Hime-nee, it's alright! Really! But if you don't get out there, Ichi-nii is liable to explode!" Orihime rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, before addressing her little sister again.
"A-Alright," she capitulated, "But will you really be alright closing up by yourself? I-I don't want to put all the work on you if you don't-"
"Hime-nee, it's fine, I promise!" Yuzu placated her, pushing her around the counter when she didn't move on her own, "You're really going to be late to your own birthday party!"
"Okay, okay," Orihime nearly whined, "Oh! Do you have the cake?" Yuzu took a large white box off the counter and placed it into Orihime's hands... before she resumed pushing her towards the door.
"Thank you, Yuzu-chan!" Orihime chirped, getting far enough ahead of the younger woman that she could turn around and give her a kiss on the cheek, "I'll be sure to save you a piece!"
"Thanks, Hime-nee," Yuzu replied, smiling slightly, "Say hello to Jinta-kun for me!" Orihime paused in the half-open doorway to turn back and smile at her sister.
"I will!" And then she was out the door and making her way towards the waiting cab. As soon as she entered the taxi, though, she was greeted by her husband's impatient face.
"What on earth took you so long?" Ichigo asked, a perturbed undertone resonating in his voice, "I was worried you were lost in the bathroom or something." Orihime pulled the door shut and then a second later, the cab began to move.
"I was finishing a few things up!" she replied, slightly worried, "I'm sorry I made you wait, Ichi-kun." As she planted a small kiss on his cheek, the creases between his brows relaxed.
"Alright, I forgive you," he sighed, leaning back against the cab's plush interior, "The baby wasn't giving you trouble again, was it?" Orihime blinked up at her husband thoughtfully.
"Nuh uh," she shook her head, "Well, maybe a little bit, earlier on. They really don't like pineapple buttercream frosting for some reason, and they're kind of stealing all my energy like the bad guys in a tokusatsu, but they've been fine other than that!" Ichigo turned his stern gaze to Orihime's still-flat stomach.
"Oi," he grunted in her belly's general direction, "Be nice to your mom. Settle down in there." Orihime couldn't help the grin that spread across her face at his comment.
"Mou, it's not their fault, Ichigo-kun," she chided him, "They're still just a little embryo, they can't help it!" This caused Ichigo to smile as well.
"An embryo, huh?" he asked, his earlier consternation having dissipated, "You've been doing research again, haven't you?" Orihime favored him with half-lidded eyes, leaning her head into his shoulder.
"Uhn! For instance, did you know the baby still looks just like a little pig or cat or fish embryo at this stage? They still have... little flippers... and... a tail..."
Ichigo looked down, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, he noticed how deep her breathing had become and realized she'd fallen asleep mid-sentence. Again. For the third time this week. And it was only Tuesday.
He gave her a small smile. If it was up to him, he'd tie her to their bed for the next eight months just to make her rest, but he figured she wouldn't be as fond of the idea as he was. Instead, he rested his arm over her shoulder and planted a kiss on the crown of her head.
"Happy birthday, Orihime-chan!"
Streamers and confetti were thrown and kazoos were blown while Orihime laughed and clapped. She was surrounded by her and Ichigo's friends in the training room beneath Urahara's shop, it being the only area deemed large enough to hold their nearly three dozen friends. Urahara, or more accurately Jinta and Ururu, had decorated the cavernous room with several yards of pink, yellow, and blue crepe streamers and a sea of balloons of all different colors, shapes, and sizes. And in the middle of it all, there was a long table set with a festive paper tablecloth, cups, plates, spoons, all manner of snacks and drinks, and three cakes - one from Isshin, one from Rukia, and the one Orihime had brought from Yuzu.
"Thank you so much, everybody!" Orihime happily chirped from her position at the head of the table, hoping she could be heard all the way down at the other end, "I'm really glad you could all come out today! I know I don't usually have parties like this for my birthday, but Ichigo-kun thought it was a good idea to celebrate, since this year's special, what with my shop opening and all..." Everyone seemed attentive, eagerly waiting for the birthday girl to finish her speech.
"So thank you all very much for coming!" Orihime said happily, before holding up a big knife, "Now, who wants cake?" The table burst into happy cheers while Ichigo, who had been seated on the bench directly to Orihime's right stood to take the knife from her.
"Ah ah," he tsked when it looked like Orihime would protest, "Birthday girls don't cut their own cakes. That's their husband's job." Orihime pouted up at him from underneath the jaunty birthday hat Rangiku had forced onto her head earlier. A small chuckle rumbled around the table at Ichigo's solicitous display, causing Orihime's lower lip to tremble; were they laughing at her? On her birthday, no less? Did they not think she could cut a simple cake by herself? She owned a bakery, for goodness sake, she could handle a little old cake knife!
Before she had a chance to feel like tears were coming on, or get properly irritated at Ichigo for his transgression, her loving husband plunked down a plastic plate full of lavishly decorated birthday cake in front of her. He topped the offering with a kiss, which almost distracted Orihime from the sickening sweet smell of the frosting. Almost.
"Birthday girl gets served first," Ichigo declared with a smirk, waiting for Orihime's reaction. Instead of answering, or even smiling, she moved her watery eyes from his face, to the decadent cake, back to his face again. "Orihime? What's wrong?"
"I-It's the wrong cake," she said, breathing shallowly through her mouth and holding a napkin to cover the lower half of her face, "P-Please get the one Yuzu made for us." By this point, most of the large table had turned to watch the odd exchange between husband and wife.
For his part, Ichigo looked quite worried indeed. Finally, he nodded, a sudden awareness of the situation striking him. He quickly removed the plate and passed it to the next person down the table, who just so happened to be Tatsuki. She was shaking her head as she watched the scene, mouthing the word 'boob' under her breath.
Orihime took a cautious breath, and upon finding the air clear of the smell of frosting, slowly lowered the napkin from her face. Ichigo gave her a nervous half-smile as he placed a plain piece of cake before her, this time without frosting. Orihime returned his weak smile with one of her own.
"Thank you, sweety," she said lightly, her earlier irritation fading along with the metallic taste in her mouth.
"Umm, Orihime-chan?" Keigo asked from his place beside Tatsuki, "Your cake... doesn't have any frosting on it." Tatsuki smacked her forehead with her open palm, frustrated at Keigo's ability to state the obvious and yet still miss the point entirely. But as she glanced around the table, she noticed that most everyone else was waiting for an explanation, as well. Subsequently, she decided to let it slide without comment.
"Oh, I asked Yuzu-chan to make a piece for me that way!" Orihime happily replied, chewing a small bite slowly and thoughtfully, "The baby hates sugary frosting."
There was an almost palpable silence hanging in the air now, stretching all the way down the table to the other end of the room. As Orihime continued to chew obliviously and then took a drink of her fruit milk, Ichigo looked out at the sea of dropped jaws and wide eyes with a sigh.
"You didn't tell them, did you?" he asked her flatly. Orihime looked up at him innocently, taking another small bite of Yuzu's moist, plain cake.
"Oh, that's right!" Orihime replied, her cheerfulness from before returning as she wiped her mouth and then turned again to address their friends, "I also wanted to tell everyone today that we're having a baby!"
The air was still for another second before the silence compressed in upon itself and then exploded outwards in a spectacular fashion. The women made their way to the front of the table to crowd around Orihime while Ichigo found himself surrounded by male well-wishers.
'So much for serving cake,' Ichigo thought ruefully. Before he knew it, he was being clapped celebratorily on the back by Renji and Chad simultaneously and cringing as Keigo gave him a manly man hug. And here he thought his dad's reaction was the worst it could get; in fact, the old man was currently shedding tears of pride onto a bewildered-looking Urahara's shoulder at the fresh mention of his first grandchild. Ichigo briefly wondered if his father was pregnant, too, with how fast his moods often swung.
And then came the smart-assed comments.
"Wow, Kurosaki, I never knew you had it in you!"
"Guess my advice paid off, huh?"
"Took ya long enough!"
"You greedy jerk! You're living the dream of every red-blooded male in our graduating class!"
"Asano, if you've been dreaming of knocking up my best friend, I will beat your ass."
"And then I'll beat your ass," Ichigo appended his dear childhood friend's statement, causing the man in question to chuckle sheepishly.
"That's like double the beatings you normally get, Asano," Mizuiro helpfully chimed in, causing Keigo to visibly wilt.
"Oh come on, it's not like you haven't thought about it," he protested weakly, simply causing the shorter man to smile.
"She's still too young for me," Mizuiro added before pointing out the voluptuous, dark-skinned woman currently congratulating Orihime a small space away, "She's more my type." Ichigo suppressed a shudder... and a tension headache.
"Can we please stop talking about you guys fantasizing about my wife," Ichigo asked tersely, "And various other women of my acquaintance?"
"To be fair," Chad pointed out helpfully, "It was only Keigo." Ichigo's palm met his forehead rather forcefully.
"Only one of you is enough!"
Meanwhile, a small ways away, Orihime wasn't faring much better. Instead of a ring of men, however, she was surrounded mostly by women, and the comments were decidedly less salacious.
"Congratulations! You must be so happy!"
"Wow, all this time I thought he just couldn't get it up!"
"I have never actually spoken to a pregnant human before - what's it like?"
"I knew about this two weeks ago, because the old goat can't keep his damn mouth shut. Sorry, Orihime-nee."
"We'll have to go shopping for baby clothes! And a whole new wardrobe for you, too!"
"Actually, this is the perfect opportunity for us to design a new line of maternity and children's clothing! I hope you don't mind modeling for me, Orihime-san?"
"Ishida, you aren't allowed to dress her! She'll look like a swollen ball of lace and chiffon!"
Ishida bristled at Rangiku's comment until Orihime stepped in to placate them both.
"That's very generous of you, Ishida-kun," Orihime offered happily, "And I'm sure Ichigo-kun will appreciate it. It'd save us a lot of money! And maybe Rangiku-san can help you, since she knows a lot about fashion!" While Ishida looked rightfully hesitant about the proposition (he figured the voluptuous blonde would want to design maternity lingerie, if anything), Rangiku herself looked delighted. Even if he was doubtful, there was no way to tell a beaming Orihime 'no'.
"Rangiku-san will be a great help," Nemu chimed in monotone from Ishida's side. To be honest, Orihime was a bit fuzzy as to the details of Nemu's stay in the human world, but she didn't question it too much; Nemu kept mostly to Ishida and never made trouble for anyone, so there wasn't much reason to worry over her. As a bonus, she was quite skilled with cutting and stitching, and Orihime knew that she acted as Ishida's assistant during her frequent visits. She had also apparently asked to help Ishida's father with cutting and stitching at his hospital, but had been soundly refused.
"I think so, too, Nemu-san!" Orihime answered happily. Ever since the quiet girl had begun coming around, she'd hoped to have a closer relationship with her. Now, from behind half-lidded eyes, she seemed to be examining Orihime closely.
"I have never actually observed a subject in gravida before," she continued softly, "I hope you will agree to an examination." Orihime laughed sheepishly before Ishida stepped between them, hoping to defuse any potentially dangerous situations ahead of time.
"Eh, Nemu-san, I think we need to leave the examinations to the legally qualified medical personnel while you're in the human world," Ishida explained gently. Orihime thought she could see a flicker of disappointment cross the stoic young woman's face, but her expression did not change.
"Ne, ne, Himeko-tan!" a limber, green-haired girl chirped from behind Orihime, drawing her attention, "Does this mean I get to be Mashiro-obaa-chan, now? Do you think that makes me sound old?"
"Eh? But aren't you already over a hundred and fifty?"
Ichigo, meanwhile, was starting to get quite annoyed at all the noise and bother. More accurately, he'd been annoyed for several minutes yet, and the situation had only been worsened by his well-meaning friends.
"Have you picked out a name yet? Ooh, your family has a naming scheme, don't they? How about Issei?"
"Keigo, we don't even know if it's a boy or not yet," Ichigo sighed, only barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes back into his head, "And no, we're not naming him Issei."
"What about Keigo, then?" He oh-so-helpfully suggested, "You have to admit that it fits!" Ichigo took a deep breath and reminded himself once again that he shouldn't punch his dear friends in the middle of Orihime's birthday party. She might start crying again, and he wasn't sure how many more times he could watch her cry over nothing before he started bawling like a baby himself.
And then suddenly, help came from the most unexpected corner. Ichigo saw their sandaled host stick his head out from behind one of the numerous, large boulders littering the training area and beckon to him with his fan. This was probably the first and only time Ichigo was relieved to see Urahara Kisuke.
"No, I am not naming my kid after you," Ichigo replied, turning back to Keigo and his other friends briefly, "Now give me a second, there's someone I need to go talk to." Ichigo made his escape before Keigo or anyone else could protest. Another minute found Ichigo behind the boulder with Urahara, but much to his consternation, they weren't alone.
In addition to the shopkeeper, they were joined by Shinji, Hiyori, and Isshin. Hiyori's expression wasn't too much different from normal, her usual scowl firmly in place. The three men, however, looked uncharacteristically serious. And considering he could count the number of times he'd seen his father this grave on one hand, Ichigo knew this was a bad sign.
"What?" Ichigo asked bluntly, crossing his arms. The looks of borderline disapproval he was getting were enough to make him defensive before the conversation had even begun.
"We just wanted to have a short word with you, Kurosaki-san," Urahara started, "About Orihime-chan's current condition." Ichigo sighed, ruffling the hair at the back of his head. A part of him had expected some kind of trouble for this, honestly.
"If you're worried about my hollow, you should all know I've had him under control for years," he groused, not meeting any of their eyes. Hiyori snorted derisively before Shinji picked up the ball.
"It's not that," the blond started, "Well, not exactly." Ichigo lifted his eyes to stare the lanky man square in the face.
"Then what is it?" he barked, sounding more tired than angry.
"Have you ever seen a Vizard with a kid, baldy?" Hiyori snapped, crossing her arms over her own narrow chest. Ichigo couldn't fight the urge to snark at her.
"I just figured none of you were getting laid," he said with a shrug, "And it's not like you'd have to worry about it anyway, shrimp." Sadly, the rest of his audience didn't share his sense of humor.
"It's not funny, Ichigo," Shinji picked back up, "We've never seen anything like this before. Hell, we thought you were sterile or something." Ichigo resisted the urge to hurl a rock at Shinji for that cute little remark. "No one knows what that kid is gonna come out like."
Even though Ichigo knew there was plenty of truth in that statement, he had no intention of giving Shinji the satisfaction of letting him see it.
"Judging by you and your own sisters," Urahara continued from Shinji, "He or she could be born with several different expressions of you and Orihime-san's genes. It could be a spiritually sensitive human, a full-fledged shinigami, or a regular human."
"I doubt you called me back here to talk about our children's futures in the ghost busting business," Ichigo observed dryly.
"The point is," Shinji interrupted, "that we don't know how this kid is gonna turn out specifically because of your Vizard powers. We don't know if they're hereditary or not."
"The best case scenario is that they are not," Urahara picked up again, "The worst case scenario is that the child is born a Vizard unable to control its own powers. I think you know how that would turn out."
Ichigo felt as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped on his head, washing away the enthusiasm for this child that had been building for weeks. Instead of the protective feelings of pride and love he'd grown accustomed to feeling for the unborn baby, he was now beginning to feel a creeping, cold dread fill his stomach. Aside from the prospect of losing a child so soon after being born, there was the very real threat of what such a loss would do to Orihime. This wouldn't be like a typical stillbirth; this would be directly Ichigo's own fault and the fault of his messed up powers.
Wide-eyed, he peered around the boulder to look at Orihime. She was smiling and laughing, letting a fascinated Rukia lay a flat hand on her belly. Ichigo found he wouldn't even have the heart to discuss this with her, which made him feel like even more of an asshole. He was too weak to even warn her about it. Now his stomach felt queasy.
"Alright, I get it," he croaked, his throat suddenly dry, "But what should I do about it? Look how happy she is - I can't just tell her that our children could turn out to be monsters!" If his voice sounded panicky, Ichigo immediately thought it properly reflected how he was feeling.
"That's for you two to decide," Urahara finally said, "Closer to the delivery, we should be able to get more information on it. It might resolve itself in the womb, or it might be stillborn. It might even overpower Orihime-san to the point that the pregnancy is no longer even viable." As each word fell from Urahara's mouth, Ichigo felt himself creeping closer to an unbridled rage. How could he be so clinical in this situation? This was his child they were discussing, as though it were some kind of tumor. And 'viable'? What did that even mean? Was he suggesting they terminate it? Finally, he grabbed the shopkeeper's collar and pushed him against the rock, hard. Beneath his sandy blond bangs, Urahara looked thoroughly unruffled, as though he had expected this reaction.
"Stop talking about it like that!" Ichigo demanded, "We're not talking about one of your damned science experiments here, we're talking about my wife and child!" Ichigo felt a firm hand grip his shoulder and pull him back; upon realizing it was his father, his normally goofy, grinning, idiotic father, Ichigo released Urahara and backed down.
"He's not saying this stuff to hurt you, Ichigo," Isshin finally said, speaking for the first time, "He just wants to make you aware." Ichigo finally turned his face toward his father, eyes full of pain and thwarted anger.
"What... are you guys saying we should do?" Ichigo finally asked. Isshin smiled down at him.
"Just watch and wait, Ichigo," he said firmly, "I'll examine her in addition to her regular doctor's appointments. The first one should be coming up in a few weeks. I might not be an obstetrician, but I can at least sense if there's anything wrong with their reiatsu." Ichigo raised his head and gave them all a forced, weak smile.
"That sounds alright, I guess," he grudgingly grumbled. Urahara nodded curtly and one-by-one, he, Shinji, and Hiyori excused themselves from their hiding place. Only Isshin remained behind. Something told Ichigo that his father had probably disagreed with the others over this. It was probably the way he'd been screaming and hugging anyone within arm's reach only a few minutes ago, poor Captain Ukitake having been his latest victim before they'd concealed themselves behind this rock.
As Ichigo leaned back against the tall rock, Isshin plopped down to the dirt beside him with a sigh.
"I don't agree with them, you know," Isshin informed his son, "I want this baby as much as you and Orihime-chan. I don't think my first grandchild could ever be a monster." Ichigo let his lips creep up into a small smile.
"Thanks, Dad," he said sincerely. Then, after a pause: "What was it like... for you and Mom, when you had me?" Isshin actually laughed as he let his head fall back against the rock.
"We didn't even realize a shinigami in a gigai and a human could have kids, let alone what they'd be like," Isshin chuckled, "I think I worried enough for everyone, about everything from whether you'd attract hollows to whether you'd pop out with a zanpakuto in your hand." Ichigo actually laughed at that mental image.
"Feels like I might as well have!" He barked, genuinely grateful for his father's levity for once.
"But never once," Isshin continued, his voice growing soft, "Did I or your mother not want you or fear you. You are your mother's son, after all, and nothing she made could be bad." Ichigo's eyes grew soft at that statement.
"Orihime's the same way," he mused. Isshin smirked up at him as he stood.
"That's a good thing," he proclaimed, clapping Ichigo on the shoulder, "Someone needs to cancel
your badness out!" Ichigo's eye twitched.
"But you just said-!"
Before he could say anything else, though, he heard his wife squeal happily. In unison, both father and son poked their heads around the boulder to see what the commotion was. Once their eyes lighted on it, it was pretty hard to miss.
Hachi had picked Orihime up and now she was perched happily on the pink-haired giant's shoulder. She wasn't even holding on, Ichigo noted with some irritation; the only thing securing his wife to that mountain of a man's broad shoulder was his large hand on her knees. In fact, what Orihime was doing was the opposite of holding on; she was flapping her arms like a bird while Hachi chuckled his deep, rumbling laugh.
"Dammit, Hachi," he roared stomping out from around the rock, "If you drop her, I swear by all that is holy, I will end you!"