Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Dark Heart Dawning ❯ Chapter Nine ( Chapter 9 )

 

Chapter Nine

 

Ichigo looked around the living room of Daria's apartment as he sat on a plush armchair, casually taking in his surroundings. The apartment was small, but spacious, and had a rather welcoming feel to it. He was surprised by the lack of overly feminine décor, at first, used to the frilly curtains and pastel colors that Yuzu favored for decorating his family's house, but then he remembered that Daria was ten years older than he was and likely had more sophisticated tastes when it came to decorating than his younger sister. Even more surprising, however, was the discovery that she lived only two blocks away from his own home.

 

He drummed his fingers on the arms of the chair, his eyes falling on the framed photographs hanging on the wall across the room. He cast a glance down the hallway toward the bedroom, where Daria was packing clothes out of her closet, then stood from his seat and made his way over to them to get a better look. He knew there was nothing wrong with him looking at the photographs - after all, they were prominently on display for all visitors to see - but for some reason, he felt like a voyeur as he examined the snapshots from various periods in the woman's life.

 

Most of the photographs had two subjects in them: a woman, presumably Daria's mother, and Daria herself at various stages of her childhood. Her mother was an attractive woman, with long, dark brown hair that was naturally curly, fair skin, and a warm smile that lit up her emerald green eyes. Her smile reminded Ichigo of his own mother, and he felt a pang of grief he hadn't experienced in a while tugging at his heart as his lips turned upward slightly in a sad smile. He continued looking at the pictures, pausing when he came across one of Daria's mother being held by a tall man with black hair held back in a short ponytail and midnight blue eyes - most likely Daria's father. He noticed that it was the only picture in which the man was present, and suddenly realized she had never mentioned him at all in conversation.

 

“Hey, Daria?” he called so that she could hear him in the bedroom at the back of the apartment. “Do you mind me asking what happened to your dad?”

 

“He died shortly after I was born,” came her reply, spoken rather than shouted, and Ichigo turned around to find her standing just inside the living room, setting two suitcases on the floor. “I don't really know what happened. Some sort of accident.”

 

“I guess you've had it pretty tough, huh?” he said, his voice full of sympathy for the woman.

 

“It wasn't so bad,” she assured him, shrugging a bit. “Sure, I missed not having a father when all my friends would do things with theirs... but my mother took good care of me. And we weren't alone.”

 

She crossed the room to stand next to him, reaching up just above her head and pulling one of the photographs from the wall, handing it to him. Ichigo took the picture and looked at it, blinking in surprise at the image of a woman who could practically be Daria's twin, cradling a baby in her arms. He knew it wasn't a photograph of her, though. The woman in the picture had shorter hair, and appeared a few years younger than the woman standing before him, not to mention the photo itself was old and faded slightly.

 

“My grandmother,” she explained. “Nana Katja, I called her. She lived with us until she passed away a couple of years before my mother was...” Her voice trailed off and she cleared her throat a bit before continuing. “Everyone says I look just like her.”

 

“You do,” Ichigo agreed, nodding. “If I didn't know better, I'd think this was a picture of you.”

 

Daria smiled a bit and took the photograph back from him, then removed a few more from the wall - including the one of her parents together - and walked back over to her suitcases. She laid one of them flat on the floor and unzipped it, placing the framed pictures within the carefully-folded clothing in order to protect the glass, then closed the suitcase and zipped it closed once more.

 

“You're leaving the rest of them here?” Ichigo asked, hooking a finger over his shoulder at the remaining pictures on the wall as he watched her.

 

“Urahara said to pack lightly,” she reminded him.

 

“Yeah, but...” he protested, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and shrugging a bit. “They're all you have left of your mom. You should take them with you.”

 

Daria turned to him, her smile growing, and nodded. “You know what? You're right. I should.”

 

She disappeared back down the hallway and came back a minute later with a small duffel bag, which she carried to the wall behind him and began loading full of the framed photographs.

 

“Do you remember your mother?” she asked him, trying to sound as casual as possible for broaching such a sensitive subject.

 

“Yeah, sort of,” Ichigo replied as he began helping her take down the pictures, carefully placing them into the bag at their feet. “I wasn't quite ten years old yet when she died, so some stuff is kinda hazy... but I remember her smile and her voice, and how much she meant to all of us.”

 

“All of us?” she asked, curious.

 

“Oh, I have two younger sisters,” he explained, realizing she really knew nothing about him. “They're twins - Karin and Yuzu.”

 

“That must be nice,” she said a bit wistfully. “I always wanted to have a younger brother or sister.”

 

“Trust me, it's not as much fun as you might think,” he told her, chuckling a bit.

 

“Maybe,” Daria conceded, laughing as well, “but even if they're annoying and you sometimes wish they didn't exist, they're still someone who will always be there for you and look up to you.”

 

“True,” Ichigo agreed, nodding. “Like I once told someone: Big brothers are born first so that they can protect their younger siblings. Even if I complain about my sisters, I never forget that.”

 

“You're such a good big brother Ichigo,” she said in a teasing voice, reaching up and ruffling her hand through his messy orange hair, laughing when he smacked her hand away and tried to 'fix' it.

 

“What about you?” he asked, trying to turn the focus of the conversation away from himself. “I'm sure you remember a lot about your mom, right?”

 

“I remember quite a lot about her, yes,” Daria told him, placing the last picture into the duffel bag and zipping it up.

 

“What was she like?” he wondered, genuinely curious.

 

“She was a wonderful person,” she replied, smiling faintly. “Raising a child on her own wasn't easy, especially in Russia during the Cold War. Luckily, she had my grandmother to help while I was young. We didn't have a lot of money, but she gave me everything she could. She was friendly and kind and always smiled, even when times were hard. She worked with children, she absolutely loved them, and I probably would have had half a dozen brothers and sisters if my father hadn't died.”

 

“She never remarried, I assume,” Ichigo said, remembering the lone picture of her parents together.

 

“No,” Daria replied, shaking her head. “She said my father was 'the one,' and that she could never love another man the way she loved him. That's another thing about her: She was a hopeless romantic. She and my grandmother, both.”

 

“I guess it's hard to move on when the person you love dies suddenly,” he said thoughtfully, thinking of his own father. In the six years since his mother's death, his father hadn't been on a single date. Ichigo couldn't even recall him showing any interest in even pursuing another relationship with someone, instead preferring to meddle in his son's personal life.

 

“Have you ever been in love, Ichigo?” Daria asked him, the question catching him off guard. He blinked rapidly a few times and shook his head mutely, wondering where this line of conversation was heading.

 

“Losing the person you love is never easy, whether it's sudden or not,” she continued. “The hardest thing is when you don't know whether or not they're really gone.”

 

“What do you mean?” Ichigo asked, furrowing his brown in confusion.

 

“My grandmother used to tell me the story of the first time she ever fell in love,” she explained, smiling at the memory. “It always made me cry, because it was such a sad story. She never knew what happened to the man she fell in love with. He went away to serve in the military and she never heard from him again. She assumed he was killed in combat, but I think a part of her wondered if maybe he had just been using her and never intended to return to her, at all. Maybe my dad died suddenly, but at least my mother knew without a doubt that he loved her - and me.”

 

Ichigo nodded silently, unsure what to say in response to her story. He hadn't really been in love, as far as he could tell, but there were certain people in his life that he knew he would be devastated over losing. Orihime immediately came to mind as he thought of the panic that had gone through him upon discovering she had been captured by Aizen, and the relief that had washed over him once he discovered that she was safe.

 

“Maybe we should head back to the shop,” Daria suggested, breaking the awkward silence that had settled between them, looking a bit embarrassed as she wondered if she'd crossed a line and gotten a bit too personal with him.

 

“I'll carry your suitcases for you,” he offered, going to the other side of the room to retrieve them as she lifted the duffel bag containing the photographs and hoisted the strap onto her shoulder. Ichigp bent down and took one suitcase in each hand then stood back up, stumbling slightly as he discovered one of the bags was considerably heavier than the other.

 

“What the hell do you have in this thing?” he asked her, lifting the heavier suitcase slightly as he looked at it. “I thought you said you were packing lightly?”

 

“My seashells are in there,” Daria told him.

 

“Your seashells?” Ichigo echoed, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I have a seashell collection,” she explained, sighing a bit. “I know it's not an absolute necessity, but... it's important to me.”

 

Ichigo frowned a bit, but decided not to argue with her about bringing them with her.

 

“Let's go,” he told her, adjusting his grip on the heavier suitcase as he headed toward the apartment door, hoping that they didn't get ambushed by a hollow on their way back to the Urahara Shop.

 

*********************

 

Kisuke casually sipped a cup of tea as he sat by himself at the back of his shop, lost in thought. The other children had all gone home shortly after Ichigo's departure to assist Daria with her relocation to the shop, although Orihime had tried to stay so she could help the woman unpack when she returned. Yoruichi had insisted that she would offer any assistance Daria would need, and the girl had reluctantly left with the others, thanking him for his hospitality.

 

It was her sweet naiveté that he knew drove Yoruichi to force the girl to leave. Orihime was a polite girl who couldn't hurt a fly, and Yoruichi still believed that Daria was a potential danger. He couldn't blame her for not wanting to put the girl into another situation where she could possibly be used - or worse, actually hurt - but Daria had yet to actually do anything that might suggest she was actually capable of causing any of them harm. All they had was a hunch, based on the sudden appearance of those strange creatures and that dark reiatsu of hers that had strangely disappeared upon her regaining consciousness.

 

Renji had asked him what he thought, after the others had all gone, admitting he wasn't sure what to think himself about the young woman. Kisuke had admitted that while he didn't believe she was a threat to them, there was a chance he could be wrong. It happened, and although the occasions on which he had actually been wrong in the past were few and far between, he knew those times usually tended to lead to somewhat dire circumstances. Which was why he always had at least one backup plan. The redhead knew this, and asked him point-blank what he was going to do if Daria turned out to be a danger, after all. Kisuke had assured him not to worry about it, he had things under control, but in reality he was still trying to figure that out. The other man had bought the lie, though, like they always did. It was a wonder that any of them trusted him as easily as they did after the way he had deceived them all, back when he'd been stupid enough to try to hide the hougyoku in Rukia's soul. That had been one of those few times where his own error had caused things to take a turn for the worse, although a part of him just knew what Aizen would likely do - he just hadn't expected the man to figure out where he'd hidden it in time.

 

Sighing to himself, he stood and took his empty cup to the kitchen, placing it in the sink. He called to Jinta and Ururu, asking them to mind the shop for him, then headed upstairs. He needed to make another attempt at discovering where that dark reiatsu within Daria had just disappeared to, and he knew that in order to find it he was going to have to get physically close to the girl and also get her to let her guard down around him, in case it was something she was consciously controlling on her own.

 

He paused just down the hall from her room, noticing her door was open, and listened carefully. He could hear her voice, quietly singing some song he'd never heard before, and he silently moved closer to the doorway with the practiced ease that came so naturally to him after his years in the Onmitsukido. Upon entering the room, he found her busy hanging clothes in the room's small closet, picking up each item out of the suitcase sitting at her feet and carefully placing it on a hanger.

 

Kisuke came up behind her as she rummaged around in the suitcase, still not making a sound, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Immediately she spun around, screaming, and nearly stumbled backwards into the open closet. Luckily, his reflexes were still sharp and he managed to catch her around her waist before she could fall. The action brought her body close to his, and he could feel her heart racing against his chest. He smiled at the surprised look on her face, chuckling softly, and she brought up a hand and slapped him, causing him to release her in order to rub his stinging cheek.

 

“What was that for?” he asked.

 

“Why the hell did you sneak up on me like that?” she demanded, shaking a fistful of clothing at him. It took him a moment to realize that she had grabbed a hand full of her underwear when he startled her, and a somewhat lecherous grin formed across his lips as she continued to yell at him - saying something about how it was common courtesy to knock before coming into someone's room - waving the lacy garments directly in his face.

 

“This is my house, remember?” he reminded her, grabbing her lightly by the wrist and pulling her hand away from his face before she ended up punching him. “I can go where I like. Besides, your door was open.”

 

Daria seethed a bit at his cocky attitude, trying to pull her hand free of his grip so she could punch the smug smile off his face, and her eyes fell upon the underwear in her hand. She looked from the garments to him and turned bright red as she realized she had been waving them right before his eyes, likely adding fuel to a fire that she absolutely did not want to be stoking. With a slight growl, she twisted her hand out of his grasp and hid it behind her back, taking a large step away from him.

 

“What did you want, anyway?” she asked, averting her eyes as her cheeks continued to burn crimson. Kisuke couldn't help but smile. She was absolutely adorable when she was embarrassed.

 

“I wanted to make sure you weren't having any trouble getting settled in,” he told her.

 

“I'm fine,” she replied, still unable to look at him. He tipped his hat back a bit and leaned forward, tilting his head to the side, watching her silently until she finally turned toward him. She was about to tell him off, but the shock of being able to fully see his face rendered her completely silent. He smiled at her, and she saw no hint of teasing in his stormy grey eyes. Instead, she noticed some sort of fascination lingering behind his stare, as if he was studying her for some reason. It made her feel somewhat nervous, and she shifted a bit uncomfortably, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from his steady gaze.

 

“Please do not hesitate to ask for anything you may need,” he said to her, his voice soft. “My home is your home, now, and I am nothing if not a gracious host.”

 

Daria nodded mutely, her breath catching in her throat as she continued to be transfixed by his eyes. It was almost as if he was holding her under some sort of hypnotic spell, made worse by the tone of his voice as he spoke to her. He took a step closer to her and her breath hitched, causing that damn smirk to return, and suddenly the spell was broken and she wanted to hit him again. Chucking lightly, he pushed his hat back down firmly onto his head as he backed away from her, once again obscuring his eyes from her vision.

 

“Lunch should be ready, soon,” he informed her, heading toward the door. “Come downstairs once you've finished putting away your unmentionables.”

 

Kisuke laughed as she cursed at his retreating form, calling him a 'damn twisted pervert.' It was only her first day living under the same roof, and she already had his number. He turned back just outside the doorway and winked at her, then began heading back downstairs, his expression turning serious.

 

He had felt it.

 

The second his hand had made contact with her skin, it was there. It was faint, buried somewhere deep within her soul, but that dark reiatsu from before had definitely not just up and vanished like he had hoped.

 

Sighing deeply, he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, his mind running at a thousand miles a minute. She seemed so... normal. If he didn't know any better, he would have just assumed her to be a human with a high sensitivity to spiritual beings. He knew that wasn't the case, though. There was something strange about that girl, something potentially dangerous, although his instincts were still telling him that she posed no danger to any of them. He just couldn't ignore that darkness within her, no matter how faint it was.

 

Kisuke knew he had to get to the bottom of things. He told Tessai he would be taking his meals in his workshop for the rest of the day, and then disappeared into the small shack off the side of the shop, determined not to come out until he discovered a way to find the answers he needed.