Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Odalisque ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.

 

 

 

Odalisque

 

Chapter 1

 

“Shit!” Rukia cried—much to the annoyance of the other passengers on the metro—as she continued to frantically search the inside of her overtly large purse for her cell phone. “Oh god damn it!” She half-yelled as her fingers collided with everything else except her beloved phone. Grumbling angrily, she shifted the black leather bag onto her lap and began to dig in earnest, searching inside the contraption with both of her hands.

 

After five minutes of relatively desperate searching Rukia finally conceded that she had left her phone in her apartment. She cursed herself for her forgetfulness and grumpily imagined where she'd find the damn thing once she got back to her apartment. It was probably sitting on her bed, or her dresser, or even on her stove.

 

She grunted angrily and slumped back into her filthy seat. She squirmed for a moment before finding a spot that was a bit more tolerable and set her face into a firm scowl.

 

She knew that today was going to be a bad day; she had known it from the moment she had woken up. Rukia groaned at the very thought of the impending day and cursed herself for having drank so much wine last night. She should have known that it would give her a headache the size of the Washington Monument in the morning. But no, she had gone right on ahead and downed that bottle like it was water and she had been lost in a desert for a week.

 

The metro train dinged again and she watched aimlessly as the doors opened and closed. More people got on and she wrinkled her nose when one particular passenger's bodily functions began to fumigate the entire car. For what must have been the billionth time that morning Rukia Kuchiki cursed herself and silently but vigorously began to rub her temples.

 

Her stop came next and she was more than happy to get off of the car as quickly as possible.

 

Her footsteps were hurried but not frantic as she quickly climbed the stairs to the station, slid her card through the automated device, and stepped out into the cool, bright, early morning sunshine.

 

She looked up to the brightly lit sky and moved her head slightly to the side. A small smile crept on her face as she looked up into the monstrosity that was the Gotei Corporation's main building. It was her workplace, her semi-permanent home, and her life. Her quick eyes slowly looked towards the bottom and then began to count upwards, she smirked when her eyes focused on level seventeen. Her pupils slid over to the corner and she sighed when she thought of her office.

 

It had taken her the better part of her young adult life to earn that office. It was the dream of that office that had made her take all the accelerated classes in her high school. It was the idea of that office that had forced her to stay inside her dorm room during college and study every night for an exam she forced herself to ace. Her years of law school had given her that office. Her persistence and her dogged determination to be the best had caused her to seek out Gotei Corp. Her long hours at the office and her insistent perfection in everything she did made her shoot straight to the top.

 

She was now the official legal council behind nearly every decision that the Gotei Corporation made with associates, rivals, and employees. She had that coveted corner office at the tender age of only twenty six.

 

This was unprecedented in the legal world as well as the corporate world. She was practically a child, or, at least, that was what her competitors and cynics said whenever they saw her. This was true to some extent; she was very young and she was a bit less experienced than many of her older colleagues, at least when it came to the actual practices of business. Many people acknowledged these as her weaknesses immediately.

 

That was, of course, before they actually met her.

 

Rukia Kuchiki was not just smart. She was very smart. One was not raised as the sister of world business tycoon, Byakuya Kuchiki, and not be smart. Once she was put in front of a client, shook his hand, and began to speak all of their doubts were usually demolished. She was ruthless when it came to her line of work. She attacked without sympathy and generally left her victims wriggling on the ground, gasping for air. She was a killer when it came to her legal profession—she never took anything in stride, she always considered every minute detail possible, and she never ever overlooked anything.

 

Rukia smirked to herself as she continued to stare at her office. She must have looked like an idiot, just standing there on the street, looking up at a building, but she didn't mind. She liked to look at her office, she had damn well earned the right to look.

 

Someone rushed past her and bumped into her shoulder, jerking Rukia quietly out of her light daze. She gently raised her wrist to her face and glanced at the time. She still had enough time to grab a cup of coffee before getting into work at her usual time—seven o'clock.

 

She tightened her hold on her briefcase and began a brisk walk to the local coffee shop near her office building. Her heels clicked on the ground and she smiled softly when a few men sent appreciative glances her way. She quirked an eyebrow as she pointedly ignored them. Still, she couldn't help it if she looked fantastic in a business suit.

 

She entered the shop, which was affectionately titled Cool Beans, and walked straight to the front counter. Behind the register was a pimply-faced teenager who barely looked old enough to drive. He was standing with both elbows on the table, his drooping head held between his hands, Rukia even thought she heard him snore.

 

The sound of her shoes snapped him out of his reverie and he blearily asked her what she wanted to drink.

 

“Coffee,” Rukia told him flatly and he bobbed his head in acknowledgement.

 

It took him five minutes to make her drink, which Rukia thought was completely ridiculous considering she only ordered regular black coffee. When it came time to add a couple of nickels to the tip jar Rukia simply put her change back into her purse and turned her nose up at the clueless boy. He gave her a disgruntled glare but Rukia returned one that would have frozen the blood of Satan. She left the frightened boy without a second glance.

 

Rukia sipped on her coffee as she rounded the blocks necessary to get to the Gotei Corporation. The hot and black liquid splashed over her tongue as she drank it as slowly as she could. She knew that her headache from this morning would only get worse as the day went by—not to mention her lack of sleep would be a problem as well—but she was not daunted. Today would be a bad day, yes, but she would fight it head on.

 

However, Rukia's mood instantly soured when she thought of what Momo had put her through last night. In theory, it was Momo who had brought on this terrible head ache. Rukia grinned when she thought of how she could make her bad mood Momo's fault.

 

That damn profile was the first thing that had appeared in her mind when she woke up this morning, it dominated her run around the park, and it preoccupied her brain as she got ready for work.

 

She glanced up at Gotei Corp. and wondered if this was the reason Momo had gone on this whole “find a man for Rukia” nonsense.

 

At least, it was utter nonsense to her, to Momo it was a matter of utmost importance. Rukia still didn't know why her friend was making such a big deal out of all of this. Rukia had never really been the out-going social type, thanks in part to older brother Byakuya. Her brother had always made a point to make sure that all boys who showed any interest in her when she was a teenager were promptly dissuaded—weather it be through modes of flat out refusal or frightening intimidation. Needless to say, having an older brother like that had made her much less popular with the males in her classroom.

 

When she went to college she continued in the same moderately dateless vein; there were a few boyfriends she went out with here and there but nothing that was overtly serious. Most of the guys who had shown interest were thrown off by the fact that she actually studied. College wasn't really a social time for Rukia, it might have been for her roommate, Momo Hinamori, but not for her. She, once again, had her brother—and his ridiculously high expectations—to thank for that.

 

Rukia took another gulp of coffee and grimaced when it scalded her throat. Now she was grown up, an up-and-coming mogul in the business world, and almost always dateless. While that worked in her favor whenever she attended business parties, dinners, and luncheons, it seemed to forever annoy her friend. Momo had tried repeatedly to find Rukia someone in the workplace—like she had done with Toshiro—but Rukia had flatly rejected the suggestion. She pointed out to Momo that all of them were either too young (the mail clerks), too uneducated (the mail clerks again), too old, too proud, or just too cocky.

 

And not cocky in the good way either.

 

Besides, she knew the types of women that the majority of men she worked with liked to date—or at least sleep with. All of them generally had significantly small IQ's, large breasts, and blonde hair. None of which described her.

 

But honestly, Rukia still didn't see the need for Momo to sign her up for an online dating service. That measure was at least ten years premature.

 

Okay, if things kept going the way they were going… maybe five years.

 

Still, she shouldn't have been immensely surprised. Since Momo had found her “soul mate,” Toshiro, about six months ago she had been on a distinct war path to try and find the same type of match for Rukia. Rukia had told her repeatedly that this did not need to happen and that she could—if she had wanted to—find a perfectly suitable partner for herself. Momo, however, had refused and promptly began to list all of the boyfriends that Rukia had had in the eight years that they had known each other

 

She counted them all using only two hands.

 

Still, Rukia didn't care. She would fight Momo off until there wasn't a breath left in her body.

 

Rukia kept walking as though she were in some sort of a trance. Her feet seemed independent from her brain as she trudged along, for once she cursed herself for getting up and running instead of staying and sleeping in. Her tired mind was just too preoccupied with worrying over Momo and her wicked plans to really care about anything else. She only prayed that today would not be an exceptionally busy day at work. She could handle bad, just not busy.

 

Rukia craned her neck up and once again began counting the floors. She was almost to the seventeenth when something unexpected rammed her from the side.

 

Rukia let out a sharp yelp as hot coffee splashed onto her white silk blouse and navy blazer. She felt her balance shift and she opened her eyes in horror as her body pitched forward. She landed hard on the cement walkway, effectively crushing her arms and her briefcase underneath her small body.

 

She heard someone curse beside her and immediately turned her head to the side. Her throbbing temples only succeeded in pounding even more when she saw the man on the ground next to her.

 

Growling through her teeth, Rukia placed both hands beneath her and heaved her body from the hard cement. She kept her attaché at her feet while she hastily straightened her skirt and tried to smooth her rumpled complexion.

 

“Shit!” She cursed as she dug a handkerchief from her pocket, following the one expletive with a series of others. She grunted and wrinkled her nose; she really couldn't seem to control her mouth this morning, if all this cursing was any indication. She continued wiping dirt and loose coffee from her clothes and out of the corner of her eye she saw the blackish blob rise from the pavement. The man had already begun his own line of curses as he straightened.

 

Normally, if a situation like this were to occur, Rukia would turn around, give the man a terrible glare, and be on her way—she had extra shirts in her office and she did not need to sully her attitude further by engaging in irritating banter with this man. She would have just ignored this man like he was any other conniving, narcissistic, asshole.

 

At least, she would have… if he hadn't turned to her and actually opened his mouth.

 

“I hope you're going to pay for this.” He spat.

 

Rukia's spine stiffened and—for some reason—her cheeks reddened. Her temper was rising quickly—even more so than normal, which was unusual considering how she typically acted around irritating men, which was basically cold and disdainful. Instead, she planted her feet in the ground and twirled on her heels. Her hands were clenched into fists and her jaw was tightly clenched. Her vision spun for a moment but stilled once she stopped moving.

 

Rukia's eyes widened and she nearly burst out laughing.

 

Not at the man himself, no… there was nothing remotely humorous about his man; it was what was on top of his head that nearly made her giggle outrageously.

 

It was orange. Bright, lively, orange. The type of orange that was only associated with face paint or clown hair or fruit. It was set in an unruly mop of disorderliness that nearly made Rukia want to get a comb and straighten it. It was just so… orange.

 

That wasn't even the worst part either. Her eyes began to rake down this man's body and she almost gulped at what she saw. His legs were impossibly long and lean, they were the type of legs that Rukia knew, if he just tore off those pinstriped suit pants, could carry him through a fucking triathlon. His torso looked toned and cut underneath his matching striped blazer. He had broad shoulders the width of which made his jacket seem a bit tight. Then she got to his face and blinked.

 

What an ugly face. Was the first thought that ran through her head.

 

She had to adjust her thinking for a moment before cocking her head to the side and studying him further. He wasn't ugly per say, his face was just… different. His eyebrows were pulled together in an impossibly tight frown—but Rukia didn't know if that was from the coffee that she now noticed was spilled all over the front of his suit or if that was just how he usually looked—and his mouth was turned down.

 

Rukia blinked at him and watched as he pulled his hot, sticky shirt away from his skin—which she could almost see through the white cloth. Her own hands were busy wiping away the stains on her own blouse but her gaze was still trained firmly on him. Slowly, her mind was getting over how he looked—which was, in one word, weird—and reverting back to what he had said.

 

“Excuse me?” Rukia suddenly blurted, her thoughts finally wrapping around what he had said and what she needed to say in response. Her eyes narrowed and she set her jaw in a firm line—for some reason it had gone slack while she examined him. She folded her arms over her chest, ignoring the pain of the hot fabric against her skin, and planted her feet firmly on the ground. “What did you say?” She demanded, glaring at the man before her.

 

He finally looked up and Rukia had to fight the urge not to let her mouth drop… again. His eyes were a stunning shade of amber. They even seemed to fluctuate in the shimmering daylight. She was at least five feet from him but even from there she could see the delicate chocolate tones mixed in with honey and brown sugar.

 

She would have been completely stunned by them had she not watched those magnificent eyes narrow in annoyance. He turned towards her, his entire, masculine body facing her much smaller one. Rukia was right, he was tall, nothing more than average, but his lean body encased in that suit made him look, well… dashing. Maybe that was what gave him a sort of… presence. It was what made him even more, well, dashing!

 

That was, until he spoke.

 

“I said,” the man ground out as he crossed his arms over his chest, “I hope you're going to pay for this.” He uncrossed his arms and pointed outrageously to his newly brown-stained shirt. “You completely ruined it! It's brand new!”

 

Rukia's eyes widened and she could feel her temper rising with each word he spoke, “I'm sorry,” she snarled, using her most threatening, lawyer-like voice, “But I didn't spill the coffee on you, you did that all by yourself.”

 

The man took one step forward and dug a hand into the breast pocket of his blazer. His fingers tugged out a small, stiff, piece of paper. “You must be blind,” he snorted as he wiped the piece of paper on his relatively dry thigh. “Because I was just walking when you bumped your tiny midget body into mine, kid.”

 

Rukia's eyes bugged and her mouth dropped open. Her mind completely forgot about looking like she was in control. The vein in her temple was now throbbing with more than a slight hangover. This—this stranger had the nerve to insult someone he didn't even know! What's more, he expected her to pay for his dry cleaning because of an accident? Who the hell did this guy think he was?

 

For the first time in a very long while Rukia let her façade of cooled indifference slip away. Her jaw dropped open and her eyes seethed from her head. “What?” She cried furiously. She took three quick steps forward and raised her hand. She stuck her pointer finger out at him and snapped, “I was minding my own business and you walked into me! It's a fairly large street and I'm assuming that someone like you would be able to move out of the way!” She emphasized the last five words with sharp jabs to his chest and fought the ever-loving urge to stomp her foot on the ground.

 

He really was tall, Rukia noted again with angry disdain, so tall, in fact, that her nose was only in line with his collarbone. Still, no matter their difference in height, Rukia gritted her teeth together and channeled all of her frustration and irritation into believing that she was six foot ten, towering over him, glaring at him with her full strength. This normally worked when she dealt with male clients who believed all women should be barefoot and pregnant at home and not doing a man's job in the business world.

 

The man with the brightly lit head of hair stood still for a moment and stared down at her, something similar to incredulity was plastered over his face. Rukia watched him as he blinked once, twice, and then wrinkled his eyes into a large frown. His slightly askew expression was replaced with a cold sneer and he took a menacing step forward.

 

“You,” he began in a low and gravelly voice, “Ran into me. I had nothing to do with it.”

 

“Really?” Rukia spat, crossing her arms over her chest and sending him a withering glare, “I should think that it takes two people to bump—”

 

“More like ram,” he interrupted acerbically.

 

Rukia continued as if she couldn't hear him, “Into one another.” She scoffed and solidified her stance, “Besides, you're taller than I am, weren't you supposed to see it coming?”

 

A smug grin appeared on his lips, “Well, I suppose since you are such a midget I might have just passed over your range of vision.”

 

Rukia saw red.

 

She could not remember the last time she had balled her fists in such absolute anger. Hell, she couldn't even remember when she had last been this furious with another human being! This man had ruined her suit, insulted her height, and even called her a kid—a kid! Her, Rukia Kuchiki!

 

“You idiotic bastard!” She screeched, completely forgetting her surroundings.

 

The man gave a short bark of laughter before bending down and placing his face dangerously close to hers. Rukia could feel her cheeks heating in anger and embarrassment—she hadn't had a man this close to her in months—only to have her humiliation increased even more because she knew he could see her blush.

 

“How original,” he sneered, “Does the writer's guild know about you?”

 

To the side of her face, his hand flicked out and in the next second Rukia felt his long fingers come dangerously close to her waist. Her eyes widened exponentially when she felt his fingers slipping inside of her pocket. His face was so close to hers… she could almost feel the heat radiating from him.

 

Rukia only vaguely realized that she was leaning backwards. Her spine was curved until her hair wasn't falling calmly onto the back of her head but instead dropping down into the air. She was sure that her cheeks were a flaming shade of scarlet. Good God, even her breathing was getting quicker. What the fuck was going on here?

 

Suddenly he was gone; in less than a second he had stepped well over six feet away from her, a widening smirk was plastered over his entire face. Rukia blinked several times before she could come to grips with the fact that she was just standing on the sidewalk, leaning back like an idiot, after being humiliated by a man she didn't even know.

 

Rukia shook her head and felt her jaw drop. What in the world just happened? She blinked several times before quickly turning her body and looking around the courtyard. He was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes simply kept expanding as she swiveled, searching for some trace of that ridiculously orange head of hair. A few people who passed her gave her strange glances—some of them she even knew from around the office—but she was oblivious to them. It was only until she had spent a full two minutes blinking and aimlessly turning that she realized she must look like a sputtering fish, left out of the water too long. Her mind was so fuddled; she didn't know what to do other than look for the man who had made her feel like a three year old sneaking a cookie from the forbidden cookie jar.

 

After a few more minutes of simply swiveling like an idiot, Rukia swallowed and bent down to pick up her briefcase. She barely registered the remaining coffee stain on her shirt and began walking towards Gotei Corp. without casting a single glance down at clothing.

 

It was only after she had gotten to the front door that she registered something small, hard, and slightly flexible inside her pocket. Rukia frowned, it was the same place the man had touched her when he had been so close. She reached down into her jacket and pulled out… a business card?

 

Rukia flipped it over and read the message:

 

Ichigo Kurosaki

Corporate Attorney; Suigetsu Inc.

 

It gave a phone number, an extension, and a fax number. Rukia gave a quick look to the insignia next to the name of the company and balked at its verisimilitude.

 

After a few moments her fingers began to grip the damn thing tight; her mind went blank and her eyes saw furious red—again.

 

Her stride augmented in time with her livid temper. She had one fist clenched around the business card and the other around the handle of her briefcase. Her jaw was set into a fuming line and her eyes were a vivid and angry hue.

 

God help Ichigo Kurosaki if she ever saw him again.

 

 

 

 

(A/N: Wow, I'm really happy about the response this fic has gotten so far. :D Thanks for all the reviews!

Two things: if you know what the title means then kudos for you. It has absolutely nothing to do with the story. I just thought it was a cool title for this fic. Plus it's an awesome painting by Ingres. Art History geek, sorry. :P

And to all those Hitsu/Hina fans, this is my first time ever writing that pairing—even if it is more to the side—so just a heads up.

 

Wow, that was long. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Review! Review! Review!)