"Someday," she says, "when you're older. Please marry my son."
"… Marry? What is that?"
"It is when two people promise to grow old with each other, take care of each other and most importantly, love each other very much. It's a very special promise."
Eager honey eyes round in fascination. "What's a promise?"
"It is a declaration that one will do something very special for the other no matter what happens."
"Oh!"
"When you grow up, I wish for you to take care of him and most especially love him ardently."
The little girl opens her mouth, trying to pronounce the strange word. "A-Ar…den…" She pouts, scrunching her nose.
"But, um, why me?" she mumbled. She fidgets with the hem of her shirt shyly. "I-I'm not special."
The woman smiles and Orihime thinks, oh, how she wants to remember that smile, put it in a box and hide it with care. She will do anything to make Masaki-san smile like that. Masaki-san loves her dearly and because of her, the pain of losing her beloved brother has become bearable.
Where did Onii-chan go? What happened to him?
He became the sky.
The sky?
When the people we love die, they become the sky to watch over us.
Then Onii-chan, he's watching me?
Yes, he is. So keep smiling.
And she does. She starts to smile again.
"You are very special. Orihime-chan's heart is precious and I want that heart to love my son." Warm hands cradle her small face gently. "Your heart is beautiful and kind, forgiving and selfless. It is strong and does not break under the strain. It could be crushed but it won't break because your heart is pure like water. It will simply flow back together. As a mother, I want my son to have that kind of heart to love him."
Masaki tweaks her nose playfully.
"It's still very early for Orihime-chan to understand. But one day, you will, and I hope when that day comes, you will remember me and what I asked of you."
The little girl curls her hands into small fists in front of her determined face. "I won't forget!"
"Of course, Orihime-chan is a bright girl! How about we make a promise to each other?"
She bobs her head up and down eagerly. "Un! Let's make a promise!"
"You're such a good girl, Orihime-chan," Masaki says affectionately, hugging the small girl. "I'm so proud of you. Your brother raised you so well." She holds Orihime's small hand in hers. "Do you promise to look after my son for as long as you are able?"
The girl bites her lip, because she does not understand, but Masaki-san is smiling. It means this, whatever it is, is a good thing.
"…for me, Orihime-chan?"
That is the magic word. For me, for her, for Masaki-san.
The girl nods determinedly. "I promise!" She thrust her fist upwards. "Space cowboy's honor!"
She smiles, beautifully so and Orihime feels happy, happy because she made this woman smile like that and so, she promises.
She remembers.
She tells herself:
I will never break my promise.
:
like
a
sunflower.
:
"You."
"I'm sorry." Orihime scratched the back of her head, a wide, sheepish smile on her face. "I don't look, um, stylish." She fidgeted under his stare, suddenly self-conscious as she dug the soles of her old red chucks onto the black tiled floor.
A frown wrinkled Ichigo's forehead. "What are you – what are you doing here?" His frown deepened. "I mean, you're–"
Ichigo struggled to continue but his heart was racing, racing, racing.
"…I know you will hate me for this but I'm your fiancée."
There was a brief look of astonishment.
No wa—
"I think I should properly introduce myself."
Something was beating violently.
Was it his heart?
Was it her heart?
"I'm…"
The beat grew louder.
"… Inoue Orihime."
Inoue Orihime.
Flashbacks, like film negatives, flickered before Ichigo's eyes.
The most vivid of these flashbacks were the memories of a girl always looking outside the window, of a girl reading a thick book, shiny auburn hair covering the side of her face. A girl folding a purple origami, a girl who, at the sight at him became flustered, stammered and fled as though pursued. Pretty smiles, innocent eyes and genuine laugh. Of firsts and lasts.
But new memories emerged, memories which he thought he had forgotten. He had buried these memories at the bottom of his heart and he had no idea what made him remember. These were the memories in the rain, of a girl sobbing in front of a tombstone, of a dying and dead woman near a river and a white blanket over that woman's body.
It was raining.
"I… I'm… s-s-sorry. I am so so–"
Ichigo felt his blood freeze in his veins.
"I hate you."
:
This is for Masaki-san, Orihime told herself repeatedly. She will not break her promise to the woman who had saved and loved her wholeheartedly.
Even if she had to endure heartbreak after heartbreak.
With a smile, gentle and bright eyed, Orihime continued, "Again, I'm sorry it has to be me, but… I'll do my best to support you. And I promise, I won't mind if you… I will not stop you from seeing other women. I understand our situation."
Ichigo looked like he was studying her face, as though searching for something. Then in the next second, that nanosecond, his face cleared, and then it darkened.
"You." His voice was low and cold.
Orihime turned rigid.
"It was you."
Dread filled her tender heart, but again, she reminded herself: this is for Masaki-san, this is my promise, this is my promise and–
Kurosaki Ichigo stood. Orihime swallowed, unconsciously taking a step back. It felt like the air had become too thin to breathe, and at the same time, charged with energy, electrified, as though lightening were about to strike. His jaw was clenched, his eyebrows furrowed above his eyes. They were burning, bright like embers.
In that moment, Orihime knew and understood. Finally – finally – Kurosaki Ichigo remembered her. If he didn't remember who she was when they were in high school, most definitely now, he rememberedwho she really was.
"Right?" he said calmly. But his voice was cold, scratchy and unfeeling. It didn't match his smoldering eyes.
"You were that girl."
Even though she had emotionally and mentally prepared herself for this confrontation, Orihime still went numb. The memories of blood and the weight of Masaki-san's body on top of her smaller body, the warmth of her blood that stained her flashed before her eyes like filmstrips, reminding her.
She curled her hands into trembling fists, remembering her prayer.
Give me strength. Please, protect my heart.
Orihime watched him run a hand through his thick orange hair, gritting his teeth so hard that the muscles in his jaw were clenching visibly. "Why the fuck didn't I realize it before?" She heard him mutter. He wasn't shouting but the fury in his voice made up for it.
"I'm… sorry. I…I…" His fierce, blazing eyes snapped up to look at her and the words she was saying and wanted to say rolled back to her throat.
"Your apology will not bring my mother back."
He was not shouting, but she wished he had hit her physically instead of looking at her like that. She bit her lip, dropping her gaze.
"Fuck. I can't believe it," he hissed. "It was you…"
Orihime hid a cringe at the way he said 'you'.
"And all this fucking time, I–" Ichigo stopped abruptly. Orihime looked up. Their eyes met for a fraction of second, a look of deep pain briefly entering his eyes, before he furiously turned away and raked a large hand over his thick hair again.
"Shit!"
Orihime jumped in shock as he hit his table with his fist. She watched him, wide eyed, apprehensive; Ichigo was hunching over his desk, hair falling over his face. When he looked up, eyes cold and narrowed, Orihime wondered: Does he really hate me this much?
But she buried her feelings deep inside her heart and reminded herself that this, everything, was for the sake of her promise to the woman who treated her like a daughter, who loved her just like the way her brother did.
This wasn't about her.
"How the fuck did this happen?"
Orihime tried to smile as she explained. "I made a promise to your mother. I promised her that… I will marry you."
He looked flabbergasted at first before bellowing, "What!"
Orihime winced. "You turned twenty four today. She said I have to marry you when you turn twenty four."
He rose to his full height, intimidating her, glaring with such animosity that Orihime feared he would suffer an aneurysm just at the sight of her. "This is bullshit!" She flinched visibly. "Why would she pick you?"
This time, Orihime wasn't fast enough to hide the hurt in her eyes. But a smile quickly flitted over her pale face, trying to lighten up the atmosphere.
"D-Don't worry! I have a few talents. I can play the piano – a little! I know basic first aid too. I can bake all sorts of bread, pastries and pies! My specialty is chocolate cake!" She poked her chin, contemplating. "And I haven't killed anyone and I don't have any gangster friends!"
His face was like a stone. It didn't change; his eyes didn't even flicker. Orihime felt immensely discouraged but she shook her head inwardly. Be strong, Orihime!
There was a heavy silence afterwards. She watched his face relax a little before transforming into a mask of cold indifference. With fluid grace, he sat down, looked at her from underneath his lowered lashes, his demeanor aloof. She frequently saw this kind of look of his in business magazines whenever he, or his father, was featured.
"How much?" he said.
She blinked. "I'm sorry?"
His expression did not change. "How much do you want me to pay you to back out?" he elaborated.
Orihime breathed deeply before replying. "Kurosaki-kun, I don't wish to burden you, but I can never break a promise to your mother. I owe her so much."
The corner of his mouth curled up in a cold smile. "Yeah. You owe her your life."
She refused to be hurt, to be intimidated.
"You're right," Orihime murmured, gaze faltering. It had taken a lot of bravery for her to look up and meet his gaze. Despite his frosty expression, her heart, oh be still, skipped several beats. In person, his eyes were more intense. They pulled her in, trapping her in place. He was a good looking man, a very good looking man. A dangerous man, she knew.
Vaguely, Orihime wondered if he can still remember her as his high school classmate. Impossible. She was forgettable. But she never forgot him and that one special moment when he approached her and talked to her – for the first and the last time. That memory always made her feel a profound, throbbing sadness. But she treasured the memory of that afternoon, dreamed of it oftentimes with vivid clarity, wondering if it was real or imagined.
There were many things she wished she could be, things she wanted to do and have but there was one thing she wanted and that something was the one thing she would never have.
Orihime gave herself a shake. This was not the right time for such sentimental things. She had something to tell him.
"Kurosaki-kun, I assure you… I won't tarnish your reputation. And like I said before, I won't mind if you keep intimate relation with other women. You're free to do whatever you please. I will try my best not to annoy you. I will stay away from you and will come to you only if you wish it. I won't mind eating dinner alone and it's okay if you don't talk to me, forget my birthday and pretend that I'm not here, that I don't exist."
Serenely, she smiled, looking delicate but peculiarly strong in her modest clothing. A large backpack hung from her shoulders, making her appear small. Despite her frailty, there was something odd about her, a quiet strength behind those large eyes.
"Believe it or not, I loved your mother and–"
"Oh yeah?" Ichigo cut in, looking uninterested as he leaned back in his chair.
She swallowed. She won't give him the satisfaction that his words and his mere presence were affecting her, making her weak.
For a second, Oirhime struggled and when she spoke, her words were clear, her tone soft but firm. "Yes, I do. And like you said, I owe her my life. I will never break a promise to her."
He shrugged, already looking bored. "Two million," he said. "Three million." He raised an eyebrow when she kept quiet.
"You're not going to make this easy, are you?"
She smiled slightly.
Ichigo glared. "Seven million," he snapped, looking away. "That's my last offer."
Orihime turned her back to him. The longer she looked at him, the faster her tired but hopeful heart quiver, crack and shatter into many little pieces. But diligently, she picked up the pieces and pieced them together.
But even if she managed to piece it back together, the cracks remained, won't they?
She had to teach herself to be stronger. She recalled Masaki-san telling her that her heart was strong. Well, she had to make her heart stronger.
I will be strong.
The kind of strength that endures all things quietly, patiently – that's the sort of strength she needed.
"I don't want your money."
Behind her, Ichigo arched an eyebrow. "Seven million is not enough for you?"
She cringed at his tone. But I understand his anger and that's okay, she told herself patiently. Heaving a deep breath, Orihime hooked her thumbs under the straps of her backpack. "I don't want anything from you."
Ichigo scoffed in disbelief behind her.
She continued as if she didn't hear him, her voice even with no hints of negative emotion. "The only thing I want in this world," she said, voice growing quieter, "… is something you could never give to me."
:
Isshin blew out a puff of smoke. He frequently traveled from Tokyo to Karakura. After all, Karakura will always be his home – Masaki was here.
"Your plan worked." The corner of his mouth lifted. "You really made sure that Orihime-chan will comply with your request by emotionally binding her to that promise." He grinned. "And lookie! I'm going to have grandkids soon!" He gave a bark of laughter.
He crouched down before the bouquet of flowers and touched the delicate petals of a sunflower. "I hope Orihime-chan has enough strength and resolve to endure this. I don't want her to get hurt. Ichigo…" He shook his head. "He's short-tempered, you know. He'd never hurt a woman but words are sharper than knives."
Isshin got to his feet.
"But if what you said is true about her strength, then Orihime-chan can handle him. But look after her, yeah? She needs all the help she can get. Knowing our son, he will make her cry."
:
"You're right."
Orihime bit her lip, her hair falling over her face as she tilted her head slightly to the right.
"I will never give you this company my parents spent their lifetime to build. I could give you some money once in a while, but other than that, this company will never be yours."
Again, she prayed for strength, for Masaki to protect her heart, to steel her resolve. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to remember their moments together. The memory of Masaki's smile after she made that promise was the strongest.
I will never break my promise.
Orihime turned around, beaming. And for a second there, Ichigo looked stunned, but it was instantly replaced by a cold façade.
"Let's get married, shall we?"
:
"I don't have time to answer the phone. Leave a message if you like."
"Oniichan, why aren't you answering your phone?"
Sigh.
A deep, tired sigh.
"Please call back. I'm worried. Even Karin-chan, but it's a secret."
"Daddy said he's staying in Karakura for two days. Did he tell you? Where are you staying? Hotel suite? Your penthouse?"
"Please call back."
:
Karin lifted the remote and flipped through the channels. "Don't worry too much." Her sister remained staring at the phone after leaving a message on her brother's answering machine.
Karin sighed. "Yuzu."
"I'm worried."
Karin snorted.
"Ichi-nii's old, Yuzu."
"But still-"
"Ichi-nii is allowed to be stupid every now and then, Yuzu. Let him be. Sooner or later, he'll come around," Karin said and settled into watching an amateur cooking show.
:
Ichigo blinked. Across the table, Karin smirked.
"Congratulations. You made it to the front page, Ichi-nii." Karin resumed eating breakfast while Yuzu inquired if it was true.
He glared at his own scowling face. His grip on the newspaper tightened, crinkling the edges.
"Damn it."
When he arrived at the office, a string of reporters and photographers were waiting for him. The noise was unbearable; his migraine worsened and losing his temper, he snarled, "Mind your own fucking business."
There was brief silence. Then the flashes multiplied and the noise returned.
Shit.
:
note. OMG WHAT
i know it's been a year (or 2 or 3 omggg and i am very sorry) but here it is, as promised to Tomato Pal, Virgil. 8D
ok, some notes just because-
1 according to a supplementary material, Karakura Town is near Central Tokyo but in this fic it is a town, in the countryside, far from the capital
2 this will probably run for 7-8 chapters; rating might go up… unless you guys don't like m-rated scenes XD
3 updates will be sporadic, sort of D: because i'm updating godsend too… i think? :D
4 thank you for your patience! 8D reviews, comments, violent reactions? 8D in any case, i hope you enjoyed this installment!