A/N: Umm, yeah this is really late. I honestly didn't mean for it to get delayed but I had to do some long revisions and then right after that I lost the file. -_- Yup, so I had to find my original handwritten draft and rewrite it a third time. Anyways, please excuse any errors, I only skimmed before posting.
Anyways, I will be continuing this, so no worries. The next chapter is going to be juicy.
Prompt: rejection
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.
where she went
rejection
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As June 17th slowly approached, the mood on the seventh floor became desolated. The employees avidly avoided Ichigo Kurosaki's path whenever they spot him trudging in the hallways. The Chief Brand Officer's patience was shorter than usual; two assistants nearly had a nervous breakdown when they failed to properly organize the week's profit graphs and received a fierce glare and lengthy lecture that included some snippy and rude vocabulary.
Whispers floated around by coworkers who had known Ichigo for a while. Some speculated or heard the unconfirmed rumor that the death anniversary of his mother was drawing near. Although many felt sympathy towards the young man, none dared to voice their empathy. Ichigo was a man who did not desire anyone's pity.
Silently, they endured Ichigo's irrational behavior. They acted as normal as they could while tiptoeing around his emotions. As long as no one set him off or acted moronically, Ichigo's sour behavior was bearable.
In an attempt to keep busy, Ichigo drowned himself in his work; he took on more hours and double-checked every document he signed off. Getting through the day was an easier task with something to distract him. He refused to give himself the opportunity to dwell over bittersweet memories that tore the fragments of his heart to shreds.
The only person bold enough to trespass into Ichigo's office was Urahara. Without even a single knock to announce his presence, Urahara let himself. "Hey there, Ichigo."
Ichigo did not bother glancing up from the long file he was reviewing. The crease between his brows was deeper than usual and his mouth seemed to be engraved into a frown. "Do you need something getaboshi?"
"I just wanted to visit my favorite orange haired grouch," answered Urahara, making himself comfortable in one of the chairs facing Ichigo's desk. Dressed in too casual clothes, he leaned back, tilting the seat back onto its back legs.
"I'm a bit busy at the moment."
Urahara continued to observe Ichigo, sensing something other than June 17th was bothering the young man. Numerous times, Urahara had witnessed Ichigo fall into mood swings as Masaki's anniversary grew near but today the lines on Ichigo's face were more profound. "I presume you won't be attending work on Friday?"
Ichigo's eyes scanned the print rapidly. "I'll have all my work in by then."
Folding his arms behind his head, Urahara said, "Don't worry over it. Just do me favor and stop scaring my employees."
Snorting, Ichigo shook his head and signed off another document, the pressure on the pen nearly ripping through the paper. He finalized it by slamming a red stamp of approval at the bottom. After tossing the contract aside with the other finished paperwork, Ichigo turned to his laptop.
Urahara's eyes tightened. "Shinji told me something very interesting yesterday."
Due to automatic instinct towards the name, Ichigo's jaw locked. "Did he?"
"Yeah," said Urahara, dangling the bait like an experienced fishermen. Although Ichigo was having a rough time, Urahara couldn't stop himself from harassing the kid. "He said you have a thing for that redheaded bombshell from Aizen Incorporated."
The tapping against the keyboard ceased. Hands hovering above it, Ichigo looked to Urahara and glowered. "The hell are you getting at?"
"Now, now," pestered Urahara mischievously, "I'm only trying to help your cause. You see, I happen to know where that woman has been going for her lunch break the last few days."
Grounding his molars together, Ichigo remained silent. Secretly, he had been keeping an eye out for Orihime. Four days had passed since their meeting and Ichigo was finding it difficult to get in touch with her. Orihime was too much like a far away shooting star and was good at eluding him. Regardless that the odds of catching her were slim, Ichigo didn't not let that stop him. He'd spend the rest of his life chasing after Orihime if he had to.
Urahara clapped his hands in amusement. "Ho, ho! That got your attention, didn't it?"
"Fucking bastard," growled Ichigo. "Get out of my office already."
"If I do that," said Urahara getting back onto his feet and heading to the door with his hands tucked into the pockets of his faded jeans, "you won't know she eats at that café around the corner from here. But it appears you're too busy hard at work to care."
Ichigo glared after his boss who paused at the door. Urahara glanced back suddenly serious. "Don't allow yourself to feel the loss of another loved one, Ichigo." He opened the door. "Pay my respects to Masaki for me."
As the door shut behind Urahara, Ichigo checked the time and frowned when he realized he still had half an hour till lunch.
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A folder was cradled against Orihime's ample chest while she strolled down the hallway of her floor. Tentatively, she glanced around and searched for Rangiku's office. For some reason, she felt self-conscious. Perhaps she was simply imagining the unwelcoming ambiance whenever she was around her co-workers. However, Orihime was used to people being unreceptive to her and she tried to not let it become a bother. Long ago, she had learned that not everyone will like. All Orihime could do was make the most of it.
Orihime neared the end of the hallway where she gratefully found Rangiku's office. The door was slightly ajar so she knocked twice before entering slowly. "Rangiku?" she asked apprehensively and poked her head in.
Rangiku looked up from her computer screen and grinned widely when she realized who it was. "Orihime-chan! Come in, come in!"
Orihime beamed and stepped inside the commodious office. Unlike the rest of the building, the mood in the air was appeasing and genial. Orihime opened her mouth to ask if she was disturbing her long time friend but was swiftly interrupted.
"Ne, Orihime, what do you think about this dress?" asked Rangiku earnestly as she turned her computer screen around. With a finger she indicated her short-cut dress choice with a very audacious neckline. "Should I get it in midnight blue or daring black?"
Giggling, Orihime stepped closer to get a better look. Tapping her chin solicitously, she appraised the clothing. "Hmm, well they're both very lovely but I personally prefer the blue one."
Rangiku winked. "I thought so too."
"Umm, Rangiku," began Orihime abashed, "could you help me with something?"
"Sure," said Rangiku, placing an order on the item. "What is it?"
"Well," started Orihime as she handed over her manila folder with her work, "I was reviewing this past month's exchanges but the budget isn't quite adding up. Some of Urahara Enterprises's assets have disappeared."
Glimmering blue eyes narrowed as Rangiku overlooked the information. An immaculate brow arched as she absorbed what she reading. "Huh," she murmured, her glossy lips pouting. "That's strange."
"Do you think there was some sort of mistake?" asked Orihime. "Or maybe I missed something?"
Rangiku pursed her lips. "I wouldn't look into it too much, Orihime. Most likely there was some sort of error or someone else from another branch made a mishap." She smoothly swiped one of papers and tucked it underneath her desk as she handed back the folder. "Don't fret over it. A rough estimate will do for Gin."
"Hai. Thank you, Rangiku."
Reeling from Orihime's blatant trust, Rangiku strained to force an authentic smile. She did not want to drag or endanger her friend who was still oblivious of the secret workings of the company. Rangiku was stuck in middle, trying to remain loyal to a man that held her heart and a remarkable friend. It was a tough predicament, she felt like she had her hands tied behind her back.
Orihime's cell phone erupted into a ring tone. She clumsily pulled out the red phone from her skirt's pocket and struggled find the correct button to answer it. "S-Sorry, this new phone Ulquiorra bought for me is very confusing. I'm really bad with touch screens. Ah—!" Orihime finally succeeded at unlocking the screen and accepted the call. "Hello?"
"Orihime?"
"Eeek!" she squeaked, staggering and flinching away from the earpiece; she had accidentally turned on the speaker phone.
"Orihime? Are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine, Ulquiorra!" assured Orihime, sporting a rosy blush. She peeked at Rangiku who was smirking coyly at her flustered antics.
"Where are you?" asked Ulquiorra. "I tried calling your office and you didn't answer."
"I'm here with Rangiku," explained Orihime, failing to switch off the speaker. "I needed help with work. Did something happen?"
"Not really," said Ulquiorra simply. "I was only going to tell you that I can't eat lunch with you. I need to have a word with Aizen-sama. An investor of his has some concerns he wishes to discuss."
Carefully, Rangiku watched the vivacious girl before her deflate. Delicate shoulders slumped slightly and somehow, Orihime managed to shrink herself. "Oh," she said softly, her head bowing. "Okay."
"Sorry," amended Ulquiorra brusquely. "I'll see you at home then?"
"Y-Yeah!"
Ulquiorra paused on the other end of the line. "Orihime?"
"Yes, Ulquiorra?"
"I'll pick up some dango on my way home."
Ulquiorra disconnected the call leaving Orihime to stare at her phone with an awestruck expression. Then her lips twisted into a large smile that filled her face.
"Well, what do you know," said Rangiku, not bothering to hide her surprise, "that guy actually has a heart."
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In an instant, Ichigo found her. Granted, she easily stood out in a sea of ordinary countenances. Yet, at the same time she did not demand or wish for attention. Her beauty was quiet but omnipotent. Numerous male eyes candidly raked her body, each one gazing at her longingly. Ichigo had been apprehensive about taking Urahara's advice; the man was notorious for fooling even the cleverest of men. But for a change, Urahara had not lied. There stood Orihime, waiting in line inside the bakery, hands folded neatly together.
The woman working at the counter scrutinized Orihime coldly as she stepped up to place her order. "What'll it be?" she asked curtly.
Orihime did not notice the woman's displeasure. Her wide-eyed face was pressed against the glass container showcasing various cuisines and sweets. Spotting freshly made anpan, she licked her lips hungrily. "Could I please have four anpans and a coffee with milk?"
The worker quickly charged Orihime. "That'll be six hundred and fourteen yen."
Orihime slipped her purse strap off her shoulder and began rummaging around. Seconds ticked by as she hastily searched for her wallet. Biting her lip, Orihime considered dumping her purse's contents onto the countertop as a desperate last resort. It would be completely embarrassing but her stomach was already making strange noises as it demanded to be properly fed.
The woman pointedly cleared her throat. She had gone ahead and prepared Oriime's order, placing a white paper bag and a small cup beside the register.
A deep shade of red adorned Orihime's cheekbones. "U-Uh, sorry," she said timidly. "I can't find my wallet."
Clicking her tongue in disapproval, the woman rolled her eyes. "Well," she sneered, "thank you so much for wasting my time."
Swiftly, Ichigo intervened, advancing to the front of the line with a scowl etched on his face. Gruffly, he said, "I'll pay for it."
A shiver ran up Orihime's delicate spine at the sound of his jarring voice. She turned to the tall, orange haired man, feeling her heart break into a sprint. Never would she have expected to find Ichigo here, in a small scale bakery. Avoiding him without appearing obvious had required a lot of work but she had believed succeeded. "K-Kurosaki-kun?"
Scorching amber eyes hungrily ravaged her face, taking in twinkling eyes and fair skin. Orihime's brows were knitted together as she peered at him. The primal desire to touch her spurred within him once again and at that moment, Ichigo realized Orihime's inadvertent charming character was deadly. Without any effort, she had him wrapped around her finger.
Fuck.
Ichigo averted his attention to the irritated woman. He swallowed painfully. "Just add a plain black coffee to that order," he instructed tersely as he pulled out his credit card.
"It's alright, Kurosaki-kun!" exclaimed Orihime. "You don't have to waste your money on me!"
But it was too late. Under an intense glare from Ichigo, the worker obediently took the credit card and swiped it at the register. She handed the piece of plastic back along with a receipt. then she hurriedly went to make Ichigo's coffee.
"Thank you," said Orihime, her knees awkwardly pressing against each other. She feared they would give out at any given moment. "I promise to pay you back."
"Don't worry about it," said Ichigo nonchalantly. He languidly put his wallet back into his pocket. "It was nothing."
Fervently, Orihime shook her head. "I have to make it up to you."
"Do you?" asked Ichigo, raising an inquisitive brow.
Orihime nodded emphatically. "Yeah!"
"Well, if you feel that bad," said Ichigo, a smirk growing on his rugged face, "then let's eat lunch together."
Orihime blinked, unsure of what she just heard. Bowing her head when she realized she just did, she muttered, "I don't think that's such a good idea."
Frowning, Ichigo demanded, "Why not?"
Because I'm engaged and it's wrong because I still— Her overwhelming gray eyes flickered up at Ichigo and then away. Softly she said, "You know why."
Ichigo stepped towards Orihime, invading her space and eradicating the carefully placed boundaries she had created. He couldn't fathom how Orihime could draw him in so easily, either she was the perfect lure or he was simply too weak willed. "Actually, Inoue," started Ichigo, his tone harsher than he originally intended, "I don't know why."
"I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun," said Orihime, grabbing her bag of treats and coffee. "Thanks again for your help. I'll pay you back later."
Ichigo grounded his teeth together. "Don't avoid the subject, Inoue."
But she had to. Perhaps Tatsuki was right and she was too scared to face her problems but that was the only way she knew how to survive. Orhime didn't want to ruin the relative happiness she had achieved. Besides, Ichigo didn't need her in his life; there was no room for her anyways.
Ichigo gazed down at Orihime with half-lidded eyes and clenched fists. A rush of emotion filled him and he opened his mouth to speak his mind. "Inoue, you—"
"Orihime-chan!"
"Ne, is everything alright, Orihime?"
A feisty blonde followed by a petite brunette appeared holding on to their own lunches from a different restaurant. Ichigo recognized Momo who gave him a small smile as a polite greeting. Arms crossed, the other woman scrutinized him like he was some sort of foreign creature.
"What?" snapped Ichigo before he could help himself. His annoyance level had reached its limit and he did not appreciate to two for interrupting him and Orihime. "Is there a problem?"
"Yeah," snickered Rangiku, her baby blue eyes narrowing. "Your face."
"Rangiku!" chided Momo, blushing in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, Kurosaki-san."
Incredulously, Rangiku turned to Momo. "You know this guy?"
Momo nodded. "Him and Toshiro work together."
Rolling her eyes, Rangiku muttered, "Your boyfriend needs to get better friends."
Standing awkwardly in the middle, Orihime observed the exchanged with her bottom lip between her teeth. Not quite sure of what to do, she tried to speak up. "Uh, guys—"
Eyebrow twitching, Ichigo growled at Rangiku, "And what's that suppose to mean?"
"It means you irritate me," sneered Rangiku, arrogantly tossing back her long blonde hair. "And I don't like you."
"Well, I don't give a damn about what you think," snapped Ichigo, "because I wasn't even talking to you in the first place."
Orihime saw a spark flash in Rangiku's eyes and was glad to see Momo tug Rangiku back before she could do anything rash like dump her food on Ichigo. "How dare you speak to me that way you—!"
Quickly, Orihime stepped between the two. "Er—Rangiku, please don't argue with Kurosaki-kun, he's a—a f-friend of mine."
It did not pass Rangiku how Ichigo's mouth turned down and his scowl worsened at the word friend. There was confliction, guilt and longing in the gaze he sent towards Orihime. He was looking at her like he—
"We should probably get going," said Momo, sensing the obvious tension. "We only have ten minutes to get back and I parked my car around the block."
Nodding, Orihime said, "R-Right." Too nervous to directly face Ichigo, she settled on his tan shoes. "Thanks again, Kurosaki-kun."
Ichigo hated how she hid herself from him; he already had spent too much time separated and unable to see her face. He needed her more than he could take. "Inoue, look at me."
She did without a second thought. Her heart beat was fast, sounding like a railroad track and her breath a train she couldn't catch. At that particular moment, she couldn't disguise her raging emotions and it made her dizzy. The instinct to flee was screaming at her once again but her feet were glued to the floor.
Ichigo swallowed. "Look, I know I don't deserve it but please, give me a chance to make it up to you."
Orihime stared at Ichigo, eyes twinkling like stars on the darkest of nights. Her heart wasn't strong enough to reject Ichigo, it still bled for him despite the damages it took. She hated it; her heart no longer belonged to her or Ulquiorra.
It was Ichigo's.
Maybe he knew this and that was why he wouldn't leave her be. Still, he had treated Orihime's heart so carelessly before and she didn't want to risk getting hurt again. She learned exactly how hard it was to rebuild yourself, piece by piece, with no idea or clue of where all the important bits were supposed to go.
Licking her lips, Orihimee struggled to find her voice. It took her two attempts to finally get a hold of her voice. Inhaling a shaky breath, she steeled herself and said, "Sorry . . . I-I can't."
Ichigo felt a sharp pain in his chest and suddenly he felt sick. "Inoue—"
Pitifully, Rangiku watched Ichigo. Never had she seen a strong man turn so weak for a woman. Rangiku was definitely shocked by Orihime's refusal. She herself had expected Orihime to agree or accept Ichigo's plea.
Rangiku came to a few conclusions: either Orihime was too in love to let another man in her life or Ichigo had wronged her. The answer wasn't as clear as Rangiku had hoped, for Orihime looked as heartbroken as Ichigo.
"I loved a boy once. He was kind and brave and was always there for me but I was never what he wanted to see, so it was better that he never saw me."
Recalling that bit of information Orihime had confided to her, Rangiku frowned and meticulously observed Ichigo. Beside her, Momo eyes anxiously flickered between Orihime and Ichigo.
Orihime shook her head, trying her best to keep from crying. "P-Please Kurosaki-kun, just stay away from me. It's better that way."
It was silent for second as Ichigo's eyes widened and for a fleeting moment Orihime clearly saw how much pain she had inflicted and she loathed herself for it. Then Ichigo's eyes hardened and his hands curled into fists. "No," he growled. "I don't accept that, Inoue."
Orihime took a step back and then turned away. "You're going to have to. You have your own life and I have mine."
Ichigo was stuck watching Orihime leave him again. It didn't take a genius to understand that she saw their lives as separate, not touching or intermingling. Unlike him, Orihime had managed to remove him from her life.
It was rather ironic how the roles had completely switched.
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"It was him, wasn't it?"
Orihime focused on breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Don't. Think. About. It. Keeping her head down, Orihime looked at the cracks on the sidewalk and decided humans were not all that different. They both looked fine at first glance but when inspected closely enough, you realize how truly broken they were.
"Orihime-chan?" asked Momo, concerned. "Are you okay?"
Orihime could only nod.
"He's in love with you, you know," said Rangiku. "He's in love with you and you know it."
"I love Ulquiorra."
"I know," said Rangiku, sadly watching the way Orihime's shoulders began to tremble. "He loves you, too. But do you love Ichigo?"
Orihime's feet slowed. "I-I don't know anymore."
Rangiku touched Orihime's wrist. "Take it from me, the only thing worse than a man who hates you is a man who loves you—and you have two."
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Without the slightest sense of guilt, Ichigo stormed into his company's building and brushed past several people. He stepped into the elevator and immediately the others strayed from him, giving him a liberal amount of space. His anger was radiating off his body and the urge to hit something was becoming unbearable.
Ichigo reached his floor and grabbed his things from his office. Passing by one of the receptionists, he grumbled, "Tell Urahara not to need me. I won't be here tomorrow."
"B-But Kurosaki-san, I already scheduled two meetings for you tomorrow—!"
Shrugging, he said, "That's too bad."
Inside his car, Ichigo stepped on the gas pedal. He got onto the freeway, taking a route that led far away from his apartment. Deciding there was no point to remain in Tokyo for the rest of the day, Ichigo made an early trip back to Karakura.
It was a long drive but it allowed Ichigo to think clearly. He understood he had messed things up with Orihime when they were young but he still felt entitled to some answers. She had left him wondering for six years and not once had she even hinted or contacted him.
Ichigo simply needed to know and he refused to give up so easily. Somehow, he'd make things right because Ichigo had waited long enough. Yes, enduring Orihime's absence had felt like a lifetime but he'd wait through another if he had to.
After an hour, his cell phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hey, I stopped by the market," informed Senna. "What do you want to eat for dinner tonight?"
Ichigo swallowed. "Don't bother. I'm not in town."
There was a lengthy pause. "What—What do you mean? I thought we were going tomorrow?"
"Sorry," said Ichigo gruffly. "I couldn't wait."
"O-Okay," stammered Senna, "well let me go home to grab things and I'll meet you—"
"Senna," sighed Ichigo. "It's fine. Stay home. I know you're swamped with work."
"No," she protested. "I want to be there for you. It's your mom and—"
"My family will be there, so it's alright." It was a second too late when Ichigo realized what he had just implied. He tried to say something, to apologize but he couldn't get the words out.
Senna's voice broke. "Yeah, you don't need me when you have your family instead."
Ichigo wasn't surprised when he heard the dial tone.
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The next morning, Orihime beamed up at Ulquiorra. Pushing up on her tip-toes, and kissed him, letting herself get lost in his touch. Here Orihime felt firmly planted to the floor without any worries or doubts. "Don't overwork yourself," she murmured.
Ulquiorra nodded and walked to the door, heading out. Wiping off some lip gloss, he muttered, "Call me when you get there."
Orihime nodded fervently. "I will~!"
Ulquiorra lingered at the doorway, staring at Orihime's smiling face. He turned the knob and stepped into the hallway. "Have fun with Tatsuki."
After the door shut behind Ulquiorra, a sinking feeling took over Orihime. She was looking forward to seeing her best friend but she also dreaded the idea of leaving Ulquiorra because without him, she was left without an anchor.
Orihime straightened up and called for a bellboy to help her carry her things to the waiting car.
Only, Orihime never took the time to consider how an anchor could drag her down and as long as she continued to carry burdens inside her, they'd drown her out at sea.