Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Odalisque ❯ Chapter 25 ( Chapter 25 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.
 
 
 
 
Odalisque
 
Chapter 25
 
Orihime Inoue twirled the phone cord around her fingers and bit her bottom lip.
 
“Are you sure you have enough?” She squeaked into the phone.
 
“Yes, the money is enough.” The toneless voice of Ulquiorra Schiffer said over the scratchy receiver. “It is all I need to get the product.”
 
“Oh…” she gulped and let out a large breath, “Okay… so, did you need anything else?”
 
“Nothing.”
 
There was silence between them and then Orihime perked up with another question. “What do you have so far?”
 
“I'm afraid I can't disclose that.” Said the dead voice.
 
Orihime sputtered and held the phone away from her ear. She glared at it for a moment, as though her wordless message could somehow be transmitted through the phone and into the eyes of Mr. Schiffer. She placed the receiver back to her ear and wrinkled her nose. “But why not? I'm the client, after all.” Her bottom lip protruded into a pout as she waited for a response.
 
His voice was very calculating as he spoke to her. “Ms. Inoue,” he said, his tone taking on an icy edge. “Allow me to make something clear. You received another letter today, am I not mistaken?”
 
Orihime fumbled with the envelope and nodded mutely into the phone. She then shook her head and answered, “Ah, yes. Yes I did.”
 
“And what did it tell you?”
 
Orihime cradled the phone between her ear and her shoulder and began to tug the paper she had received today out of the manila envelope. She opened the capriciously folded page and read aloud from the neatly printed script. “`Ms. Inoue,'” it said, “`Progress has been advancing nicely. Call Mr. Schiffer for an update but do not make a move until further instructions are given.'” She cleared her throat after she was finished and squeaked into the phone, “That's it.”
 
“Excellent,” he replied, his voice now one of boredom. “If you may understand from that reading, Ms. Inoue, you are not in control of this operation. You are merely playing a part.”
 
Orihime opened her mouth to protest but she was cut off before she could say another word. “Think of it… as a chess game. You, Ms. Inoue, are a pawn, or perhaps a rook. You're only able to move in certain directions yet you're still needed in order to capture the king.” He paused for a moment and his emotionless voice took up that extra edge of fortitude. “Do you understand?”
 
“I'd rather be a rook,” Orihime told him after a long moment of thought. “Pawn just sounds so dirty.”
 
“Of course. But do you understand?”
 
She bit her lip and nodded her head, “I do,” she answered sullenly.
 
“Excellent. Now, I shall contact you when I have completed my task at hand. Only then will we truly be brought into the heart of the game.”
 
Orihime heard the phone being taken away from his ear and she bit her bottom lip. “Wait!” She cried, her finger twirled around the phone cord again and her body leaned against the jamb of her kitchen door.
 
“Yes, Ms. Inoue?” Mr. Schiffer asked in a dull and impatient tone.
 
Orihime bit her lip and frowned softly, “If I'm a rook in this game… what does that make you?”
 
“Me?” He repeated, clearly bewildered to be even asked such a question. “Well Ms. Inoue… I'd have to say that I'm a knight. My primary job is to directly serve the king.”
 
Without saying another word he hung up.
 
Orihime simply stared at her phone and listened to the soft dial tone. Swallowing once, she carefully pulled it away from her ear and hung it back in its caddy.
 
I'm a rook, she thought placidly as she stared at the white phone sitting peacefully on her wall. I'm a rook… he's a knight… we serve the king…
 
Orihime Inoue just smiled and got ready for work.
 
Oh well, all's fair in love and war.
 
*~*~*
 
Rukia heard the door open to the office but didn't look up.
 
“Hey,” Ichigo said as he shut the door behind him. He walked over to his desk and placed his briefcase down with one hand.
 
Rukia still didn't answer him.
 
He sighed heavily from across the room and slowly made his way over to her desk. She continued to ignore him even when she caught the scent of something tremendously tantalizing swirling in the air above her. Without really intending to, she raised her head and looked up at him.
 
He was holding two cups in his hands, one extended towards her. His face was a mask of irritation and chagrin but neither seemed to matter to him as he placed the cup on her desk and slid it towards her.
 
Dubiously, Rukia grasped the warm edges and sniffed. “What is this?” She asked, finally breaking the tense quiet that had enveloped both of them.
 
“Hot chocolate.” Ichigo told her without hesitation. “My mother's recipe. I thought you could use some of it today.”
 
Rukia lifted the cap on her little cup and stared at the swirling brown liquid inside of it. She sniffed the air cautiously and couldn't help the shudder than ran down her spine when the delicate scent of chocolate assaulted her nose.
 
Slowly, she lifted the cup to her lips and took a little taste. Chocolate, chocolate, and even more chocolate bombarded her senses as she allowed that one, infinitesimal, drop to slide along her tongue and down her throat. Its taste was rich and pleasant, matching the smell almost exactly. It was thick, creamy, and completely wonderful as it slid down her esophagus and into the warming pit of her stomach.
 
She moaned gently and immediately raised the cup to her lips again. This time she took a much bigger sip. It scalded her tongue but she ignored the burning feeling. This was just too good to pass up.
 
“Delicious, isn't it?”
 
Rukia didn't have time to answer; she was too busy drinking her hot chocolate. Instead, she just nodded her head and prayed that she wouldn't drip any of this delectable beverage.
 
She set her cup down with a soft sigh and immediately wished she had another. God damn but that was tasty. She glanced over at Ichigo and saw him consuming his cup with as much enthusiasm as she had used with hers, if not more. She shook her head in wonder that he had actually gotten them to the office. If she had been in possession of two such drinks they would have been gone before she had stepped outside of the door.
 
When he finished with the cup Ichigo placed the lid back on and tossed it into the trashcan by his desk. With a satisfied smirk covering his face he leaned back in his chair and gleamed at her.
 
“So,” he said, grinning wryly, “Am I forgiven?”
 
Rukia looked balefully down at her empty cup and sighed. She tossed hers away just as Ichigo had and straightened her jacket professionally. “I'll have to see.”
 
“Oh come on,” he muttered, “It's not like I share my mother's famous hot chocolate with everyone.”
 
“I'll take that into account,” Rukia said dryly, fitfully circling her finger around the rim of her Chappy the Rabbit coffee cup. The coffee inside of it now looked so… distasteful in comparison to the otherworldliness of Ichigo's mother's hot chocolate. “Is she a good cook?” Rukia asked next, attempting to change the topic away from the disaster of a Kurosaki Family Picnic that had occurred yesterday and whether or not Ichigo was forgiven for being an ass. “Your mother?”
 
Ichigo didn't answer; all she heard was the shuffling of papers on his desk come to a complete stop. She turned her head towards him and saw he had frozen still and that there was a very far-off look stamped suddenly into his eyes. Rukia felt a large stone fall into the pit of her stomach and it sloshed around painfully for a few moments.
 
There was silence between them for a few more moments before she spoke, “Did… did I say something wrong?”
 
He blinked twice and looked over in her direction. Rukia's eyes widened at what she saw. His face—which had been filled with silent mockery only a moment ago—was… blank.
 
It didn't suit him at all.
 
“No,” he answered, his voice completely even. “No… ah, my mom is dead. Died when I was nine actually.”
 
If tons of bricks had been attached to the ceiling above Rukia's head they would have fallen right about now. A frown creased between her eyes and she bit her bottom lip. Dead? His mother was dead? But just a minute ago he had been talking about her like she was alive and well.
 
If she was alive why don't you think you ever saw her at a Kurosaki Family Picnic? Her treacherous brain pointed out. The creases between Rukia's eyes became deeper as she thought back to what his father had said only yesterday.
 
“That's how I want it to work, you know, so when you find out you're pregnant just come to me and tell me first. I'm a doctor so I won't tell. Not even Ichigo. Hell, you don't even have to give the kid to Ichigo. Just make sure he—or she—is given with Grandpa Isshin! I'll take good care of the little bugger. It's what Masaki would want. Oh! Have I told you about Masaki? My beautiful wife, Ichigo's mother, she wants a grandbaby just as much as I do, maybe even more. Hm, I wonder if any of her features will be passed onto your kid. I hope so! I do love Masaki so mu—”
 
Then Ichigo had punched him senseless, leaving him unable to finish his sentence. Ichigo's father had been speaking about his wife as if she were still alive. He had said things like `she wants a grandbaby' and `I wonder if any of her features will be passed onto your kid.' It had sounded like he was talking about her in the present tense. Did the poor man not know that his wife was dead? Was he really that deranged?
 
“But your father,” Rukia started but she stopped when she heard a snort come from Ichigo's direction.
 
“Yeah, Dad tends to talk about Mom like she's still alive,” he turned his head towards her and gave her a weak smirk, “Right?”
 
Rukia could feel a blush creeping in on her cheeks, “Well… yeah, pretty much.”
 
Ichigo rolled his head back against his chair and started to swivel, “He's still obsessed with her. He even has a huge poster of her hanging in our dining room. It's quite weird actually but at least it keeps him occupied.”
 
A poster? Rukia thought, her eyes as wide as golf balls. He's got to be joking.
 
“How did she die?” She asked in a quiet voice.
 
It had seemed like the logical question to ask. Generally, after someone speaks about someone who has died it is generally acceptable to speak of the circumstances surrounding their death. At least, that was how it worked with Rukia. Whenever anyone asked her if she had siblings she would always say yes, but her sister had died of cancer a few years ago. That was how things worked. She was just doing what she thought was proper. That was the information, she was just giving it away, and there was nothing to get emotional about.
 
Right?
 
So seeing Ichigo become so pale in such a small amount of time was almost shocking. Rukia instantly felt as though a cold bucket of ice water had been plunged into her stomach. She swallowed hard and sat up just a bit straighter in her chair. Her eyes scanned over Ichigo's stiff form and she noted how his fingers were slightly clenched on the edges of his chair, how his normally tan face was slightly pale, and how his vibrantly piercing eyes had taken on a glassy shade.
 
“Never mind.” She blurted out quickly. “I shouldn't have asked. I shouldn't have… never mind. Just forget I said anything.”
 
Then there was silence.
 
Neither one of them spoke to each other for the rest of the day. They both worked on files, read reports, sent messages to other departments, and ate lunch separately. Rukia still went down to the cafeteria even though Momo wasn't there to keep her company. It was unsettling, really, to have so much silence between the two of them. Normally, their entire days were filled with angry remarks, sexual innuendos, irritating quips, and nasty slights into each other's character. But today… nothing.
 
Could it really have been that bad? Ichigo was twenty seven years old. His mother had died eighteen years ago… had it really been that traumatic that after all of that time he still felt it today, clear as day?
 
She really couldn't know for sure. The only experience she had ever had with death—other than her brother's nearly fatal shooting—had been when Hisana had died almost nine years ago. It had been painful, of course, she had cried—not much though, Byakuya disapproved of crying—and she had mourned. But in the end she had put it in her past. Hisana had died and there was no getting around that. No way to remedy it.
 
She sighed when she felt that familiar pang inside of her chest. When it came to remembering Hisana all she had to go on were fuzzy memories of warm hugs, sisterly affection that had been used as a substitute for motherly love, and occasional bedtime stories. After that the memories faded into a mélange of hospital beds, nameless doctors' faces, and tubes of all shapes and sizes… all of them were meant to help yet none of them did anything.
 
Rukia couldn't really remember a time when Hisana had not been sick. She had battled with sickness for most of her adult life. First it was just simple things like strep throat and colds, those could be cured well enough, then it became more advanced pneumonia, measles, coup… all of these had aided in the weakening of her body. They all had made sure that the cancer had taken hold of her sister effectively.
 
Once it had gotten to that point she had already lost the battle. All anyone could do was just try to make her comfortable.
 
What happened to Ichigo's mother? Rukia thought as she walked back into their office after her short lunch. The curiosity was burning deeper inside of her and she cringed when she realized how badly she wanted to know.
 
It's his personal tragedy, not mine; I have no right to force the information out of him. She told herself firmly. Just let it alone.
 
So the day continued just as silently as before. Rukia worked alone at her desk and Ichigo alone at his.
 
By the time six o'clock rolled around Rukia was still flipping through a heap of files and Ichigo was stretching at his desk.
 
“You almost finished?”
 
Rukia's head jolted up and she blinked at where the sound had come from. Ichigo had his arms over his head, flexing his biceps underneath his work shirt, and breathing in a relaxing way. It was as if he was trying to find his Zen after such a horribly awkward day.
 
When she didn't answer he looked over at her, cocked an eyebrow, and curled his lips into a smirk. “Well?”
 
Rukia's face, which had been filled with quasi-shame a second ago, shifted into an irritated expression. Same old Ichigo, she thought with a mental sigh.
 
“No,” she said, abruptly taking him out of his stretching pose with her answer, “I want to stay and finish these.” She indicated to the small stack of files sitting on the opposite side of the desk. She briefly looked back at him and then returned to her papers. “It'll only take me about an hour more.”
 
“Why can't you do them tomorrow?” Ichigo demanded, standing from his desk and coming over to hers. “If it'll only take an hour.”
 
“Why shouldn't I do them today?” Rukia shot back, “If it'll only take an hour.”
 
“Because,” Ichigo pointed out dryly as he sat on the edge of her desk, only a foot away from her body. “Then I'd have to come back here to get you and then take you home. I don't want to do that.”
 
“What made you think I was getting a ride with you anyway?” She demanded, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms defiantly.
 
“Come off it Rukia,” he snorted, “Six and seven o'clock traffic on the metro in the middle of flu season? You've got to be kidding me.”
 
This realization hit Rukia like a sharp jab to the center of her face. She wrinkled her nose but stayed seated in her chair, just visualizing what would happen if she should actually get onto the metro tonight. All those snotty children, sneezing homeless people, grimy passengers who wouldn't disinfect their hands after they had touched something disgusting, sitting in someone's snot, inhaling everyone else's germs, getting sick herself and then feeling miserable, not being able to have sex while she was sick—
 
Whoa, stop right there amigo.
 
Rukia's face colored at her last realization but in all honesty that was what did it for her. She really didn't want to have to put sex off for a whole week or two just because she had been stupid enough to refuse a ride from Ichigo.
 
“Fine,” she snapped, still making her voice sound coarse and irritated, “I'll go.”
 
“Excellent.” There was a smirk in Ichigo's voice. It sounded as though he knew exactly what she had been thinking about right before she made her decision. Still, instead of feeling embarrassed about it, Rukia just gathered her things and let him think whatever he wanted. If he knew… well, he shouldn't be complaining. As long as she was in good health he got to have good sex. It was a win-win situation for both of them.
 
Not that he technically needed her to have sex. Their deal didn't mention anything about to other partners.
 
Although it is clearly implied, Rukia thought hastily, attempting to shove back the feelings of unease that such a thought brought on.
 
Rukia gathered her purse from her desk drawer and began to collect the things she would need for tonight. She wasn't sure if Ichigo was planning to take her to his apartment or not so she took as little as possible. Moving as quickly as she could, she stored the extra files in a vacant drawer and made to get up.
 
It was then that a lancing pain shot down through her inner thigh.
 
Rukia flinched and immediately hunched over her desk. “Damn it,” she cursed; she pressed her thighs together and prayed that the stinging would stop.
 
“What is it?” Ichigo asked, straightening from his casual position against her desk.
 
“My leg,” Rukia muttered angrily, she squeezed her thighs together even harder and tried to think of cold things. “Yesterday, when you pulled me away from your family, the drink your sister gave me fell on my thigh.” She shot him an angry and reproachful glare. “It hurt like hell.”
 
He scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “If it hurt so damn much then why didn't you say anything?”
 
“Oh, like you would have let me complain about a little burn when you thought I was sabotaging our agreement?” Rukia snapped. “As if.”
 
“It's been hurting all day?” He demanded.
 
“Sure has,” Rukia replied sourly, “But the aloe was supposed to take some of the sting off, I guess that shit wore off as well.” She slowly parted her legs and placed her hand in between her upper thighs. The burn was nearly in the center but it inched upwards towards her center just a tiny bit. Inwardly, Rukia cursed herself for wearing such short shorts the other day. She should have been wearing longer pants but honestly, the weather hadn't really called for it to be that cold.
 
She felt the mark through her pantyhose and winced. It was nearly the size of her hand and inched upwards towards her pussy in angry, flaming, tendrils of red.
 
“Damn,” she cursed again. She slowly drew herself up onto her desk until she was sitting on the edge of it, facing the wall. In one smooth motion she hiked her skirt up until it was level with her hips and tried to get a better look at her burn through the nude coloring of her pantyhose.
 
It wasn't until she felt a warm, foreign, hand touching her thigh that she realized what kind of position she was in.
 
“Ichig—” she gasped when his hot mouth captured hers. The one hand that was not placed on her thigh had moved to grip the back of her head. She felt his fingers plunder her silken locks as he gently worked his way up to her ponytail. The elastic band that surrounded the clump of hair fell uselessly to the top of her desk and her tresses poured diligently down her shoulders. Ichigo's fingers wound into her hair and massaged her scalp while he kissed her.
 
Rukia's head was bent almost completely backwards. She moaned from deep within her throat when she felt his slow, fiery kiss begin to build in passion. His tender lips were becoming more and more intense against hers. His teeth were clipping lightly at her lips, telling her exactly what he wanted and how.
 
Rukia's mind began to fuzz over as he worked miracles on her mouth. She forgot completely that she was in her work office, that she was kissing her business partner, and that the door was very much unlocked. Anyone could choose this exact moment to come inside the door and she wouldn't be any the wiser. Ichigo's kisses did things like that to her. The way he kissed her made all of her senses—well, all of them that weren't focused on him anyway—go numb with pleasure. And now, with him kissing her so slowly… it was so new, how could she be expected to remain sane?
 
She shuddered helplessly as his tongue probed into her mouth. She met him with equal fervor, gradually building up into the passion they both knew so well. Rukia angled her head to the side and felt deeper inside of him. He tasted so wonderful; he was so masculine and arrogant and sure of himself that it was difficult not to feel sucked in by his awesome sexual might. One of Rukia's hands came up behind his head and gripped the back of his neck, pinning his mouth to hers. She didn't care anymore. She wanted to be sucked in.
 
She felt Ichigo's free hand begin to slide underneath parts of her skirt. She whimpered softly when she felt his fingers beginning to drag down the edges of her pantyhose. She shifted in time with his hands and dutifully helped him in undressing her. Soon enough, his mouth was off of hers, his head was between her legs, and he was rolling the pantyhose down her legs in a flurry of kisses, nips, and licks.
 
Rukia arched her back and felt the cold air against her pussy when he peeled her already soaking underwear away from her center. She groaned and pushed her body even further forward, just to make it a little easier on him. However he surprised her, he didn't even bother going straight for her core like he usually did. Instead, his head lingered near her sides. His warm breath flew against her skin and sent goose-bumps racing over her legs. She whimpered and pushed herself a little closer to him. The throbbing was beginning to become unbearable. She wanted him to do something, at least. She wanted to feel his tongue, to experience his lips, and to suffer under Ichigo's unbelievable talent of oral sex. She groaned audibly and inched forward even more.
 
She felt something warm and wet and tender begin to caress the burn on her inner thigh. Ichigo patiently pushed her legs apart further and slowly kissed around the edges of the pink burn. She shuddered in anticipation when he brought his tongue out for long, leisurely, licks across the entire surface, top to bottom, bottom to top, side to side. Her brain felt like it was melting inside of her head as he ran his fingers gently over the whole area. His touch was soothing. The combination of his tongue, his fingers, and his lips were practically enough to make Rukia forget about her entire burn in the first place.
 
Hell, it was enough to make her come.
 
“I—Ichi—go,” she panted, both of her lips open desperately. She pushed her center closer towards him and bit her bottom lip. “P-Please…”
 
It was all she needed to say.
 
Ichigo's mouth was fastened onto her faster than she would have ever thought possible. She had to clench her teeth together so she wouldn't let out a raucous shriek when she felt his teeth tugging at her clit. Her juices flowed out of her like never before and Rukia moaned as they were all taken in by him. Perhaps it was the danger that they could be caught, or maybe it was the way Ichigo had been so tender to her burn, or possibly it was the knowledge that even people like him could have deep, dark secrets that they wanted to keep hidden. She didn't know what it was… but whatever it might have been, it made her heart beat faster, made her lungs work harder, and made her pussy even wetter.
 
Ichigo's tongue entered her completely and she threw her head back onto her neck, letting out a silent scream as she did so. She gasped and writhed against him as he pleasured her. She felt the heat from his tongue, the strength from his teeth, and—after a moment—the thickness of two fingers entering her dripping sweetness.
 
“O-oh,” she moaned. Rukia doubted she'd ever be able to form a coherent word to save her life right now. She couldn't talk… she simply felt.
 
Her orgasm hit her like an oncoming train. It was so powerful, so immense, it left her deaf, dumb, and blind. She felt the tightening of her walls around Ichigo's fingers, the guttural groan that came from his throat, and the long, breathy moan that slipped through her guarded lips. He pumped into her while she was coming and lapped at every juice he could collect.
 
Rukia didn't know how long it lasted. She only knew that it was one of the most powerful orgasms she had ever had in her entire life.
 
When it was over she was left panting and lying limply on her desk. She didn't even know how she had come to be horizontal, nor did she actually give a damn right now. She simply let the shudders rack her body, let her orgasm finally finish, and let Ichigo come up for air.
 
All too soon she felt him tugging her upwards. She groaned in protest but got up anyway. She was put onto her feet but ended up wobbling the moment she was allowed to stand alone. A strong hand caught her and a voice laughed beside her. Somewhere deep inside she knew she should have been ticked but she just couldn't muster enough energy to be angry with the man who had just given her such a fantastic orgasm.
 
“Come on Sunshine,” he whispered into her ear, “I'm taking you home so you can return the favor.”
 
Rukia only nodded and gathered the rest of her things. She blinked several times to gather her bearings and realized that her pantyhose were thrown near a random section of the wall, her shoes were clumped near her desk, her panties were atop her shoes, and her skirt was still hiked at a very inappropriate length.
 
With a blush staining her cheeks she quickly shoved her skirt down—she'd forget about putting her panties back on, Ichigo would just end up taking them off anyway—and stuffed them and her hose into her purse and then slid her shoes on as well.
 
Ichigo watched her as she worked and grinned smugly to himself. Rukia turned towards him and realized that he had tactfully placed his jacket over his erection—which no doubt had to be bulging right about now. Oral sex always made Ichigo excited. She also noticed how he danced from foot to foot, anxious to be on his way.
 
“Alright,” Rukia muttered knowingly, “Hold on.”
 
She ruefully wiped her hand across her desk and sighed when she realized that it would forever carry the stigma of being a sex desk. Her fingers lingered atop of it for a moment more as she mourned its lost innocence.
 
“Rukia,” Ichigo ground out, “Hurry up.”
 
“I'm coming,” she snapped.
 
There was a smirk in Ichigo's voice, “Again? I thought you already did. Damn, I knew I was good girl but I didn't know I was that—”
 
She punched him in the stomach and stalked out of the office. Ichigo followed her as quickly as possible, skillfully remembering to keep his jacket covering his erection the entire time and wheezing as well.
 
They went to the elevators and waited for one to arrive. The doors dinged open and just as they entered they gave each other slow smiles. As the doors shut they leaned closer and closer until…
 
The hallway was silent. The only sounds available were those of the incoming cleaning crews. Computers were abandoned, chairs were left alone, and desks were empty.
 
All but one.
 
Orihime Inoue sat at her desk, gripping the edges until the knuckles on her fingers turned a sickly shade of white. Her eyes were blank and staring out into the silent office. Her mouth was slightly ajar and her arms were shaking with jealously.
 
She opened her mouth again and again, words were trying to come out but only sounds passed through. She swallowed and shook her head, her orange hair flying around her face as she tried to comprehend everything she had just heard.
 
“It's true.” She whispered, her eyes still wide with shock. “All of it.”
 
Perhaps it was hope, perhaps only arrogance, maybe a bit of naiveté as well. She didn't know what, but a small part of her had always hoped that the one photograph she had seen had been false.
 
She had thought that maybe it really hadn't been Ichigo Kurosaki inside of that elevator with Rukia Kuchiki; kissing that woman the way Orihime had always dreamed of being kissed.
 
After all, she had been watching them ever since she had received that first envelope. Their office demeanors hadn't changed much. She was still a bitch and Mr. Kurosaki was still just as wonderful as ever. Nothing had seemed to change between them. She would have known… she would have sensed it.
 
But now she simply could no longer deny the looks that they gave one another. She saw all of the slight caresses they gave each other when they thought no one was looking. She saw the way Mr. Kurosaki would wait and drive Ms. Kuchiki home—if home was where she really went. No, Orihime could deny it no longer. What she had just heard, what she had just witnessed… it made it all so real.
 
Her body launched itself out of her chair and she furiously gathered her things. She left in a hurry, barely registering that she knocked down a box of pens in the process.
 
As Orihime Inoue walked furiously towards the exit she set her jaw and clenched her fists. She had decided. It was time to become fully immersed in this game. It was time to become the rook full-time. It was time to fully serve the king.
 
After all, she thought, a sinister edge glowing around her mind as she remembered her famous validation, all's fair in love and war.
 
*~*~*
 
“Are you… sure?” Ichigo asked dubiously as they huddled a bit closer together. The wind was cold and nipped around them as they strode up towards the hill. Both of them passed the kiosk and the attendant behind it—who looked ridiculously warm in his tacky parka—grinned and nodded towards him. Ichigo ignored him but Rukia nodded in return.
 
“Yes,” Rukia said, digging her face even further into her scarf. “I need to tell them.”
 
Ichigo rolled his eyes and stuffed his hands into his pockets, attempting to fight off the chill of the early November morning. He glanced around himself warily and frowned. “Yeah but why did you tell Momo to leave? We could have used her as a human shield if my family got too crazy.”
 
Rukia raised an eyebrow and shook her head, “Then I guess you'll just have to become the shield yourself.”
 
“Hell no,” he snorted, “I'm throwing you in front of me and bolting. It's you they want, after all, not me.”
 
She punched him in the side and shot him a withering glare, “I need to do this, Ichigo, and don't you think having Momo here would have made it worse?”
 
He did have to admit that she had a point. “But she really looked like she wanted to wait and see what happened.”
 
“She knows I'll tell her about it later,” Rukia shrugged. She picked up the pace and began to lean forward in attempts to make passage up the hill a little easier. “Come on, I kind of want to get this over with.”
 
“Then why did you come?” Ichigo demanded, lightly keeping pace with her, “If you didn't want to really spend much time here?”
 
She shot him a sideways glance and frowned into the cold air. “How long do your picnics usually last?”
 
He shrugged and began to pull up the zipper on his jacket even more. “Normally about an hour, maybe an hour and a half or two.” He raised his eyebrow at her and smirked, “But with you here I'm guessing it will go on longer.”
 
Rukia just shook her head. “I'll keep it as brief as possible.”
 
“You just try to do that with my dad hanging onto your arms.” He challenged her.
 
“I will,” she shot back, “And I'll succeed.”
 
Ichigo just chuckled, “You're asking for it…”
 
Rukia turned away from him and began to walk a little faster. Ichigo kept up with her as they strode. He couldn't believe he had agreed to this. A few days ago, when she had approached him and said that she wanted to meet his family again, he had been so surprised that he had nearly choked on a gulp of coffee. Of course he had told her no and she had snarled at him immediately. A rather large argument followed afterwards and only resulted in Ichigo getting another bruise on his already injured side. She had huffed and just glared at him.
 
“I need to set things straight, Ichigo,” she stated forcefully. She stood in front of his desk and crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes were glowing with defiance and her jaw was set stubbornly. “I need to tell them that I'm not your girlfriend, that I'm not pregnant with your child, and that I have no intention of ever becoming pregnant with your child. I need to tell them that.”
 
Ichigo just glared at her. “They're not going to believe you.”
 
“How do you know?” She countered instantly.
 
“Because I know my family,” he returned crisply, “And I know that if you even come up and attempt to deny anything between us my dad will immediately think you're lying.” He gave her a pointed look and raised an eyebrow, “Which you are.”
 
“Might I remind you Kurosaki,” she said, steel lacing her tone, “That nothing romantic is happening between us. It's purely physical.”
 
“And you plan on telling my father that?”
 
“Of course not,” she glowered, “I am merely going to tell him that we are friends and business associates, nothing more and nothing less.”
 
He gave her a dubious look and shook his head. “You can try but I can guarantee that you won't succeed.”
 
“Well I'm going to try anyway.”
 
“Be my guest.”
 
That had been last Wednesday. Since then he had tried—countless times—to talk her out of it. He even went as far as to try and get her to agree to it during sex. But it hadn't worked; she had had her orgasm, flipped him on his back, proceeded to fuck him senseless, and told him—mid-coital—that she was still going to meet his family.
 
Damn bitch was stubborn. He'd give her that much.
 
He had even almost gone as far as telling her that if she went to meet his family that he wouldn't have sex with her for a month. She merely looked at him, laughed, and went along her merry way. Apparently, his poker face had sucked.
 
Like I could go a month without fucking Rukia, he scoffed inwardly, as if.
 
From the other end of the hill he could hear the excited chatter coming from his family. His insides shriveled slightly when he heard his father apparently talking about his upcoming wedding. Ichigo shot a glance over at Rukia and saw that her reaction was similar to his. Her face was scrunched, her nose was wrinkled, and her eyes were narrowed with clear killing intent.
 
“She'll become my third daughter!” He said, apparently bouncing up and down on the picnic blanket. “She'll be our Rukia-chan and we will love her!”
 
“Oh Christ…,” he heard Rukia mutter.
 
“Told you.” He sneered.
 
She turned to him and her murderous expression became even harder, “Did you tell them I was coming?”
 
Ichigo nodded and smirked wickedly, “Trust me, if you had surprised them the reaction would have been increased tenfold.
 
“You have a crazy ass family,” Rukia stated dryly.
 
“Don't I know it,” Ichigo sighed, he drew in a deep breath and prepared himself for their arrival, “Brace yourself.”
 
“I'll be fine.” She snipped as she rounded the top of the hill and appeared before his family. Ichigo held back, knowing what would come the moment he appeared behind her.
 
He winced when he immediately heard two people—his dad and Yuzu—scream at the top of their collective lungs, “Rukia-chan!
 
He was torn between laughing and wincing when he saw his younger sister's hand shoot out and grab Rukia's entire arm—how that was possible he didn't even know. His sex-partner let out a strangled yelp and was instantly tugged down to the blanket his family was sitting on, despite the fact that it was nearly fifty degrees outside.
 
“Ichigo,” he heard Karin yell from above the knoll, “Come on out. Your girlfriend is terrified.”
 
He sighed heavily and walked up the rest of the way. He screwed his face into a heavy scowl and shook his head. “She's not my girlfriend.” He stated clearly, looking over at Karin with a distasteful stare.
 
Karin just rolled her eyes, “Sure she's not.”
 
“I'm not!” Rukia squeaked. Ichigo glanced over at her and realized that she was being smushed between his father and his sister in an intensely lovable hug. Rukia just sat between them, her body was as stiff as a board and her face was set in a mask of complete horror.
 
Karin ignored her, “Sure you're not.” She scoffed.
 
Ichigo just sighed and came to the blanket. He plopped himself down heavily and glared at his father. “Let her go Dad. She's not going to run away.”
 
Isshin just held onto Rukia tighter and Ichigo could swear that he saw her lips turning blue. He began to speak and Ichigo looked up when he heard a hint of tears in his tone. Sure enough, his dad had tears in his eyes. “Oh I'm so happy! Ichigo has never brought a girl to meet his family before! He must be so in love with you! Of course, I don't blame him. You're certainly very beautiful and—”
 
“I didn't invite her,” Ichigo told his father, interrupting his half-crazed tirade with four simple words. “She invited herself.”
 
Isshin—while still grasping Rukia to him as tightly as possible—gaped and then turned to look at Rukia. She blinked up at him and cringed so she could get as far away as possible. That, of course, wasn't very far at all. It was like he had super-glued her to his side.
 
“Then she must love you very much, Ichi-nii!” Yuzu cried, breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence that had encompassed the moment.
 
Ichigo felt a piece of a warm croissant promptly become lodged in his throat he began to choke immediately. He coughed hard in an attempt to bring the little sucker back up.
 
It was Rukia that saved him, “Are you kidding?” She squeaked, still attached to his father's side. “I can't stand him! I just… I just w-wanted to come here and clear up any, ah, misconceptions that you might have about me.”
 
“I have no misconceptions, Rukia-chan!” Isshin crooned, still silently weeping, “My senses are as sharp as a tack!”
 
Ichigo nodded as he wiped away the residual water from his tearing eyes. He drew in a breath—which he could do now thanks to his unclogged windpipe—and said, “She's right Dad. There is absolutely nothing going on between us.” Aside from the fact that we're sleeping together. “We're not romantically involved nor do we ever plan to be. Just get that through that thick skull of yours.”
 
Isshin's gaping stare went from Rukia to Ichigo and then back again. His mouth was opening and closing like he was a fish in some kind of tank. As the two business partners sat in silence they watched the blood begin fade from his face and cringed when they saw him begin to tremble.
 
Only a second later, tears began to earnestly flow down his eyes.
 
“Masaki!” He howled, releasing Rukia and thrusting her dramatically towards Ichigo. She let out a stifled cry as he caught her precariously in his lap. Her head to his stomach, Rukia scrambled up and tried to get as far away from Ichigo as the blanket would allow.
 
“I've failed!” He howled, salty liquid pouring from his eyes. “Our son still hasn't found a woman to impregnate! Oh Masaki! I'm so sorry! I thought for sure that I had raised him to be straight!”
 
Ichigo glowered at his father and chose to ignore the `gay' comment for a moment in favor of the other one about his mother. It wasn't like it was completely abnormal for his dad to be wailing to their dead mother. But now, with Rukia being around and suddenly being so curious about his mother it just made matters worse.
 
Ichigo gave a sideways glance over to Rukia. She was staring at his father with a mix of curiosity, apprehension, and even a bit of fear. He rolled his eyes; he didn't blame her in the slightest. His father could be one exceedingly freaky man when he wanted to be. He looked a bit closer and swallowed when he saw the light of inquisitiveness shining in her eyes.
 
“But your father,” Rukia started but she stopped when she heard a snort come from Ichigo's direction.
 
“Yeah, Dad tends to talk about Mom like she's still alive,” he turned his head towards her and gave her a weak smirk, “Right?”
 
Rukia could feel a blush creeping in on her cheeks, “Well… yeah, pretty much.”
 
He just wasn't ready to tell her anything about that part of his life. Slowly, he brought his mind back to the present and frowned in disapproval when Yuzu started crying along with his father.
 
“My family is a bunch of circus freaks,” he stated numbly.
 
“Hey!” Karin barked, snapping out of her people-watching mode and turning around to glare at her brother. “I am perfectly normal thank you very much!”
 
“About as normal as a two headed cow,” Ichigo shot back, a sneer lacing the edges of his voice. “You're just on the opposite side of the spectrum when compared to these two nut-jobs.” He jerked his thumb over to his father and to Yuzu and smirked. “You're the yin to their yang little sis.”
 
“At least my hair couldn't be worn convincingly on a clown,” she snarled.
 
“No, but your face could.”
 
“Ha! You wanna talk about faces? Yours scares little children!”
 
“Yours will ensure your virginity for the rest of your life!”
 
Karin just smirked and turned her head away.
 
The sharp retort that was going to be shot at Karin after her next expected comment fell flat on Ichigo's tongue. His eyes slowly widened and he immediately pounced over to his younger sister. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and spun her around so she was facing him. A light smirk was still present on her face as she glared up at him.
 
“Have you been having sex?” Ichigo bellowed, his eyes as wide and as menacing as his growling mouth.
 
“That depends,” Karin retorted smartly, “Have you?”
 
“Don't even go there Karin!”
 
“I have a right to know!”
 
“It's my personal life! You do not have the right to know!”
 
“Well I have a right to my privacy as well! I'm twenty one years old! I'm sure by that time you'd lost your virginity a thousand times!”
 
“You can only lose your virginity once Karin and you'd better still have yours! Who was it? I'll kill him!”
 
“Hypocrite!”
 
Ichigo was ready to open his mouth and continue screaming at his younger sister—as well as wrap his hands around her neck until she stopped being such a brat—when he stopped completely.
 
A light, tinkling sound was coming from beside him. Dubiously, Ichigo turned his head and set his intense stare on the person beside him on the picnic blanket.
 
Rukia had her hand to her mouth, pressed up against it tightly, and was shaking with laughter. Her eyes were shut and small tears were running down the sides. Her entire body was trembling softly as she moved to press a second hand to her face.
 
It was then that Ichigo looked over at his father and Yuzu. Both of them seemed to be in a state much like Rukia's. Their hands were covering their mouths, their bodies were trembling, and their eyes were clamped shut in silent laughter.
 
From behind him Karin smirked. “Gotcha Ichi-nii.” She said in a sing-songy voice.
 
The four people around him burst out laughing while Ichigo sat in the midst of it all. Completely dumbfounded.
 
“What the hell,” he started, looking between his father, his sisters, and his sex partner, “Is going on?”
 
Everyone around him just laughed. Ichigo fumed silently until they were all nearly finished. Actually, Rukia was the one to recover first. She grinned and shook her head slightly. She looked at him with a small sparkle in her eyes. “Damn your family is entertaining.”
 
Ichigo just stared at her, his mind mesmerized by that tiny little twinkle.
 
Isshin chimed in as soon as he was finished howling in laugher. “Well then stick around, Rukia-chan because we get a lot better!”
 
Rukia just smiled at him. “I think I'd like that.” She said, soft sincerity weaving into her voice.
 
Ichigo just looked at her. The twinkle in her eye had grown until it was nearly as intense as a star. He grinned gently but tried to hide it beneath his false sense of anger.
 
“I think I'd like that.”
 
A statement like that should have made Ichigo cringe. Instead, it just made him smile.
 
 
 
 
(A/N: Okie day, I hope everyone liked this chapter! I had fun writing it! :D
 
I just love making Orihime creepy… but then again you all know that. ;P That and… ah the IchiRuki… giggles!
 
Man, I came home for the weekend from college and flipped on the TV… it was like magic! You can guess that I don't have one in my dorm. :) Although surprisingly I don't really miss it… hmm…
 
I HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYS THIS CHAPTER AND REVIEWS!!!)