disclaimer. BLEACH © KUBO; for other materials here in, please refer to the footnotes
rating. M
note. a lot of thanks and hugs to Cindy + Rairakku-chama who checked 11 chapters for atrocious mistakes! :D thanks a lot for reading! if you have free time, tell me what you think, yeah? ;]
full summary. Inoue Sora disappeared 2 years ago. His younger sister, Orihime, receives an offer she cannot – and will not – refuse: I have information. I know where your brother is. There are two important things she has to remember: Don't get caught. Don't fall in love.
A fog of panic and disbelief dimmed her vision and dulled her senses.
It's impossible! she thought while watching the news. She listened and responded half-heartedly and distractedly as the caller continued their instructions.
"Shocking news! The Crown Prince of Dainipponteikoku is–"
Still clutching the remote control in her small hand, she flipped through different channels. The news broadcasts were all the same.
"The identity is a closely guarded secret! We'll wait for more developments!"
"A very sudden development, I say."
"The Imperial Household Agency demands to respect the privacy of the Imperial Family."
"The ten-member Imperial Household Council responsible for the selection will soon give a statement—"
"Fifteen candidates, one of which, as widely speculated, is Kuchiki Rukia—"
"Good luck."
She jerked back to reality, dropping the remote control on a nearby kotatsu. "W-Wait! I…"
"I want this to be done with great care. And I expect you to accomplish this with a… bang." Even though the voice was synthetic, the last word seemed to drip with amusement.
"But he— He is the Crown Prince! And…"
"Are you scared?"
She swallowed, balling her free hand into a fist. The current news segment featured a recording of an interview. The Crown Prince was speaking about the Dainipponteikoku's decade-old alliance with Brandenburg-Preußen which he visited one week prior. She watched his distant, piercing amber eyes– her heart pounded when those eyes stared right at the camera – right at her.
Flustered, she looked away quickly, turning around to face the mirror again.
"This," she breathed, frantic, "this is impossible!"
"There is no such thing as 'impossible' for a desperate person like you." She flinched at the stinging truth in those words. "I believe in you. Have faith."
The sound of a train passing distracted her. The caller spoke again after the train passed.
"I have made some very important arrangements for you. I have helped you with the best of my abilities. Use your opportunities well."
Orihime's panic skyrocketed.
"Wait—"
There was a significant pause.
"Good luck."
:
"I'm getting married."
Tatsuki coughed and spluttered, slamming her cup of coffee back to the table. "W-What?!" she demanded, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.
Orihime giggled a little at her best friend's mini-fit and said, "I'm getting married."
Tatsuki gaped, looking lost. "You've got to be kidding me. I-Impossible… You don't have a boyfriend! Wait…" She narrowed her eyes, leaning forward. "Do you have a secret boyfriend?! Who is this fiancé?"
She only smiled. She wished she could tell Tatsuki. Her best friend deserved the truth, but the truth might get her killed.
There was a commotion outside Denny's. The doors slammed open, shocking diners, and people flowed in. Men in black suits, people with cameras, people with recorders, people with mics. It was a warm spring morning, but as this new flood of people came, the familiar, gentle silence was replaced with noises. Even worse, this flood seemed to center around her and Tatsuki's table. Her friend was stunned into silence.
Microphones were jabbed in her face, asking for a word, a confirmation. Cameras flashed, and reporters demanded answers. Orihime remained quiet, focusing her gaze on Tatsuki who stared back inquiringly: what's happening? What's this?
The noise was unbearable, the flashes blinding. The men in black suits created a wall around her, pushing against the barrage of people, attempting to protect her from the media frenzy.
She got to her feet, and the uproar increased; more blinding flashes, louder voices, and shoving and pushing.
"Orihime?"
Despite the noise, she heard Tatsuki.
She offered a smile. "Tatsuki-chan."
One truth, just one. She hoped it was enough.
:
"I'm going to marry Kurosaki Ichigo."
:
interlude:
Tatsuki
This, I think, is perhaps the strangest story Orihime has ever told me. She has babbled before on and on about odd things – robots, aliens, space invaders, boxing stars, food – but this takes the cake. Despite Orihime's peculiar outlook in life, she is intelligent, optimistic and funny, and does not exaggerate things on purpose. Her odd imaginings have limits.
"I'm sorry, Tatsuki-chan."
I blink, jolting out of my trance.
"We have thirty minutes," one of the men declares.
"Wait!" I exclaim. "How did you–" She never told me about meeting the Crown Prince. She never even talked about him. Ever.
"Let's go."
"I'll see you soon, Tatsuki-chan. I promise."
I try to stand. "But –"
"I'll be fine." She looks at me and smiles, and I still. I know Orihime like the back of my hand, and I have memorized her different Orihime faces. I often told her face is too open and it's so easy to read her, but that look, that smile – for the first time since I've met her, I failed to read them. I can't read her.
And these findings make me nervous. Terrified, even. What's going on? What is she hiding? I struggle for words, for my composure. And again, for the first time, I can't find strength in me to demand answers.
Loud voices, clicking of cameras, flashes, stomping of feet– they are too much. I feel a headache coming on, my temper flaring, urging me to lash out. From my seat, unable to do anything, I watch as the men guide her out of the diner. Outside, they carefully push her inside a black, expensive-looking car. There is a great exodus of noise and reporters, and Denny's becomes Denny's again.
A waitress approaches me to refill my cup. "Your friend is the one they've been talking about in the news for weeks?"
"Huh?" I don't watch news. I am busy with more important things like college, Orihime and karate tournaments.
"The person who is engaged to the Crown Prince," the waitress elaborates. There is another headache, a worst headache.
"Unbelievable," I mumble.
"I know, hon."
.
.
.
god
send
.
.
.
When she was very young, she dreamed of a house made of Gundanium alloy. She'd have two balconies where she could watch the sun rise and set over the town. She'll grow pumpkins, carrots, leeks and onions at the backyard, and will care for a dog that barks in Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. She remembered doing an art project about it. Her teacher scolded her: this is not a normal girl's dream, she said.
Thus, Orihime was forced to re-draw her dream. This time, it involved a prince in purple leggings and puffed-out sleeves, riding a white horse and brandishing a black sword. She got a high grade for that drawing. She can draw well, you see, very, very well.
As she waited inside a car, she thought of that art project.
:
"The Imperial Household Council conducted a search for the suitable partner for the Crown Prince. There are fifteen candidates, fourteen of which are members of former noble families. Despite your plain family background, you have suitable credentials. You're a student of a prestigious university and you have outstanding grades. You're healthy. You're beautiful. You have excellent genes."
Her eyes widened. Genes?
"I-Is it necessary to… marry him?"
"Do not forget: this is the Crown Prince. He is not an easy person to target. His security detail is impossible to breach. Marrying him is the only way for you to get close and strike with ease."
"But I'm a commoner."
"An orphan girl and a Crown Prince, a good fairy tale story, don't you think?"
"A very sudden development, I say."
"The Imperial Household Agency demands to respect the privacy of the Imperial Family."
"You are not of royal blood and you have no family. Therefore, they believe you will be a good puppet. In addition, this is a good opportunity for the Imperial Family to gain the favor of the nation. You will act as a bridge between the commoners and royals."
The Crown Prince appeared on the television screen; Orihime looked away.
"This," she breathed, frantic, "this is impossible!"
"There is no such thing as 'impossible' for a desperate person like you. I believe in you. Have faith."
There was a distant sound of a train passing. The caller spoke again after the train had passed.
"I have made some very important arrangements for you. I have helped you with the best of my abilities. Use your opportunities well."
"Wait—"
There was a significant pause.
"Good luck."
:
Those were the last two words she had heard from her employer.
:
It was Thursday, two weeks prior to the announcement of Crown Prince's engagement, when she received a parcel.
Confused, Orihime turned it over; there was no return address and name of the sender. Distracted, she thanked the delivery personnel and locked the door. Seated at her low table, she opened it and, perplexed, found a black cellular phone. Two minutes later, to her surprise, it rang.
She let it ring for four times before answering it.
"Hello?"
"I have information. I know where you can find your brother."
:
Those were the first two sentences she received from her employer, a man she would later call "the boss".
:
The massive steel gates slid open, and a long, broad pavement lined with maples, ginkgos and cherry blossoms stretched out before the black Mercedes-Benz limousine, followed by four Alfa Romeo 159 sedans. The vehicles moved forward, passing by the trees, crushing petals and leaves under their tires. Farther ahead was a quadrilateral which enclosed two large courtyards. The palace, the oldest among the buildings in the compound, loomed overhead, a rectangular, steel-framed three-story building with long protruding eaves and large, gabled roof and columns.
The cars entered the first courtyard, and went on to enter the second, larger forecourt, which was bordered with lawns. Orihime had seen dozens of photos of the palace complex, but none of them had captured the actual magnificence of the imperial palace.
The convoy started to slow down as it approached the south entrance of the reception hall, prompting Orihime to inhale deeply to calm herself, but her heart remained racing.
I'm scared.
She gripped her skirt tightly, the fabric bunching inside her small fists.
There was no room for hesitation – her brother's life was at stake here – but she could no longer hear herself think because of the loud thrumming of her heart.
Her fingers curled tighter until her knuckles were white.
The plan was simple: get close, closer, and strike.
Executing the plan, however, was a different case altogether.
Judging from his brief appearances, briefer speeches and scowling visage, the Crown Prince seemed to be a difficult man to please. He seldom showed his face in public, opting to live his life as privately as possible. It was difficult, though; he was constantly hounded by the press, stolen pictures of him frequently gracing the front page of newspapers and, unfortunately, tabloids.
Finally, the car stopped.
Orihime felt her heart stop for a second, before racing so much that she felt a little lightheaded. But this was not the time to faint. She had a target to meet. She placed a hand on her chest and gripped the front of her blouse. Closing her eyes, she whispered a simple word, a prayer.
Nii-chan…
The door beside her swung outward.
She forced her eyes to open. Taking a deep breath, she turned to the door. This is it. She will watch and she will wait. And when the perfect opportunity presented itself to her…
Slowly, Orihime got out of the car. With a shaky smile, she thanked the guard who opened the door for her, and looked up to the opened doors of the lobby.
Seeing the covered entranceway up close, she felt the weight of reality crashing down on her. From now on, she had to fake her smiles, her expressions. Hide her intentions with a polite smile, disguise her carefully laid out plans with a courteous laugh. Pretend, lie, and act. Just thinking about it all made her feel sick and weak and disgusted and many other things she could not identify.
She's not a malicious child; she respected all forms of life, and above all, a human life. But what she will do, it was something she had to do.
I will find you, Nii-chan.
:
She hoped that he would understand the choice she had made and the path she had taken, that doing nothing to save him had not been a matter of choice. Most of all, she hoped she will be able to forgive herself.
:
If the outer walls and the courtyards were splendid, no proper words could describe how impressive the interiors were. The south entrance hall was made of black granite, pine wood and marble. It was three-storey high where a staircase ran up to the mezzanine level. Two chandeliers made from crystal glass illuminated the room with light-purple beams.
She was staring at the reflections of chandeliers and lights on the floor with great concentration that she failed to realize that a figure was watching her from the top of the staircase. This figure descended one step, creating a sound that shattered the heavy silence like a firecracker.
Orihime stood very still and spun towards the stairs. A tall man with orange-red hair stood on top of the staircase.
As she watched the man move down the stairs, her heartbeat began to speed up so fast it hurt to breathe. She felt disjointed, as though her arms and legs were not in their proper places. As he moved closer, Orihime felt her knees weaken.
But she was a woman with a mission.
Off with his head!
She tore her eyes from him and bowed.
"G-Good afternoon," she said softly, her voice husky in anxiety. Orihime rose to her full height and looked up to him, offering a small, bashful smile. "I-I'm Inoue Orihime, sir."
As expected, Kurosaki Ichigo did not smile back as he gazed down at her. His presence was suffocating. He appeared taller, his shoulders broader in person; she was certain she barely came up to his shoulder. His spiky hair seemed to blaze with its striking luster. Orihime had always thought he had intense eyes, but she did not expect that they were that intense. Gold flecks accentuated the rich brown color, making his eyes almost glow.
The Crown Prince seemed unmoved as he regarded her. Regal, aloof. Orihime dropped her gaze to the floor, clutching at her skirt to hide her trembling fingers. His stare made her feel small, conscious of her simple background. Even worse, she felt like he was picking her apart, layer by layer, probing, looking for her secrets. This feeling of being stared at by him, it was bone-deep. Frightening.
Now, as she stood in front of him, Orihime felt her fright and uncertainties double. They clawed deep into her insides, gripping her heart. Kurosaki Ichigo was a man of strength; certainly, he was not the type of man who'd be easily charmed by a pretty face.
A new set of footsteps approached them.
"Right on time," a voice said, amusement lacing their tone. Orihime started and turned towards from where the voice came.
A tall, thin man with bucket hat over his blond hair was grinning in her direction. He wore a dark, shapeless straight-sleeved coat and green shirt and pants underneath. He carried a fan in one hand, while the other was waving at her. Orihime gave a small smile and dipped her head in a curtsy.
"Ara, ara, I'm just a lowly servant. No need to bow, Miss Crown Princess," he teased with a chuckle, hiding his face behind a fan. "Urahara Kisuke, madam, your ladyship. Welcome to Choshun-iro, the Imperial Palace."
"Hello."
"Oh, I like her. How polite, her highness," he said to Ichigo.
"Urahara."
Orihime felt a tingle run down her spine at the sound of Ichigo's voice.
"Of course, Mr. Crown Prince. Now then, shall we go?" Urahara asked, turning to Orihime.
"Go where?" she asked, puzzled. Urahara grinned.
"To prepare you for your wedding."
"Eh? W-Wedding? But—"
Kindly, he said to her, "Yes, your wedding. Let's hurry up, shall we? I'll escort you there." She must have made a facial expression that amused Urahara greatly for he laughed and said, "Today is your wedding, Your Highness."
notes:
(1) Goong, Honey trap trope, Angels & Demons (mystery phone call part) from all of which the premise of this fic were derived
(2) Imperial Household Agency and Imperial Household Council are real agencies. This is a fictional representation and WILL be inaccurate
(3) Dainipponteikoku –Greater Japanese Empire; (4) Brandenburg-Preußen – Brandenburg-Prussia
(5) Choshun-iro - long-spring-color