Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Odalisque ❯ Chapter 38 ( Chapter 38 )

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

 

 

 

 

Odalisque

 

Chapter 38

 

“Momo,” Rukia croaked, finally finding her voice. “What… what are you… doing here?”

 

Her best friend sat up on her couch, her face was tearstained, her nose was red, her eyes were bloodshot, and her entire complexion was as pale as chalk.

 

She stared at Rukia for only a moment before she brought a couch pillow from her chest and pushed her face into it, a fresh wave of tears and sobs billowing through the fabric.

 

“Momo,” Rukia said hoarsely, wanting more than anything to join her on the couch and begin crying into a pillow. “W-What's wrong? Why are you… where's Toshi—”

 

A wail louder than that of a banshee ripped through Momo's throat. Her entire body shook as she tucked her face against the pillow and curled into a tighter and tighter ball. She started rocking, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth… Rukia's already spinning mind was becoming even dizzier. It was made even worse due to the sharp splintering inside of her already shattered heart.

 

“He—He… c-called of-ff the… the… wedding.” Momo sputtered, her voice was thick from her tears and her body was shaking with grief. Rukia froze in her spot and her shaking body began to tremble even more violently. “S-S-Someone sent-t h-him a v-video of-ff meh—me having s-s-sex.” She gripped the sides of her head with her hands. Her already wayward hair slipped out of its confining bun and caused more of her soft locks to fall around her shoulders. She looked up at Rukia—her gaze was hollow and devoid of any emotion except pain—and spat, “At t-the p-p-party. My… r-r-rape.”

 

“Momo,” Rukia whispered mutely, feeling her stomach disappear as her friend's story came undone.

 

“But,” she swallowed and raised a hand to wipe a tear away from her devil-red eyes, “Ap-p-parently, I w-wasn't r-raped. Ap-pp-arently, I—I enjoyed it.”

 

Another shriek of pain echoed around the room. Momo clasped her head in her hands and Rukia hobbled over to the couch. Her heavy body landed next to Momo's and she tugged the pillow from her hands. Gently, she pulled Momo into an embrace. Her friend immediately melted into her arms. Momo's sobbing face found purchase on her blouse while Rukia's bleeding hands rubbed Momo's back diligently, attempting to fight her own despair while dealing with Momo's.

 

“Why, R-Rukia,” she wailed, “Why?”

 

“I don't know,” she answered, a sob of her own escaping from her throat. She held Momo tightly, hoping that if she had something—someone—to hold onto maybe the pain wouldn't be as bad. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.

 

She was wrong.

 

Her love for her friend only made listening to her pain even worse. Coupled with her own Rukia didn't know how she was holding herself up. Rukia's trembling increased threefold until she was shaking uncontrollably. She held Momo tighter and tighter and Momo held her back.

 

“Why does it have to hurt so much?” Rukia sobbed into her friend's shoulder. She choked as she added, “It's… it's one hundred times worse than with K-Kaien.”

 

Still crying, Momo raised her head from Rukia's shoulder and brought her hands to her face. Her shaking thumbs wiped away the tears from under Rukia's eyes and she shook her head again and again until her hair was flying everywhere.

 

“No Rukia…” she moaned, “Not you too… please no…”

 

“Ichigo,” Rukia choked on the name and braced her hands on Momo's arms so she could speak, “He… he b-betrayed m-m-me. I was j-just part-t of his j-job.”

 

“Rukia,” Momo cried, new tears falling fat from her face, only these were tears for her friend. “Oh Rukia… I'm so… s-sorry.”

 

“I should know better,” she whispered brokenly, “I should know by now… love doesn't bring me anything but pain.” She pressed a hand to her throbbing forehead and sobbed again, “God… I'm so stupid… but—but why does it have to hurt so much?”

 

Momo shook her head, “I—I don't kn-know, Rukia… I don't… know.”

 

Rukia let out a strangled sob and buried her face into Momo's shoulder. Momo did the exact same as their arms wound tightly around each other.

 

Feeding off of one another's pain and each others' comfort, crying tears for one another, sobbing and shrieking for the pain of one's friend; together, Rukia and Momo held each other close. They cursed whatever gods they felt were responsible for their all-consuming pain, they sobbed for each other, and they tried their best to stem the flood of tears that never seemed to end.

 

As Rukia held Momo close and fought to keep her body from shaking too badly, she thought: Really… who else do we have?

 

*~*~*

 

Ichigo shoved himself into several people as he raced towards the largest office in the entirety of Suigetsu Incorporated. One particular man stumbled against the wall while a woman holding a stack of papers yelped and dropped them all onto the floor. He didn't even apologize as he barreled past them.

 

“Don't touch me!”

 

Her words were as fresh as new rain on his mind. They had soaked through his thoughts just as the rain outside had soaked through his clothes. His teeth clenched and his body shook when he thought of what had just happened. Ichigo could not understand why her face had been so pale, why her eyes had been filled with tears, and why her body had been shaking so badly.

 

He didn't know… and it scared him.

 

“Damn it Rukia,” he hissed, pushing his way past more and more people, “I don't… I don't understand!”

 

“Was I just some toy? Just some plaything that you could have to pass the time before you got your big promotion and your big new office? Did I ever mean anything to you?”

 

His pace became even faster as he nearly jogged to the office he needed. What the hell had she meant by all of that? He had never thought she was a toy. Never! And what was that about a promotion and an office? What the hell was happening?

 

He groaned and fought the urge to press a hand to his forehead. His body was thrumming with some sort of primal need to comprehend what was going on around him. The beast inside of him needed to know what was happening. Yet it was also that same beast that was urging him to forget all that was happening here and just go to her. Go to her and comfort her until the tears stopped and she was back with him.

 

Finally, the large oak doors he was looking for were before him and without a second thought he shoved his body into them. The knob cracked at the pressure Ichigo applied to the door. The entire frame jerked loose and banged against the back wall. He charged into the office like a bull into a fighting pen.

 

Mr. Aizen didn't even lift his head. He simply flipped a piece of paper to the side and grabbed another from the folder he was holding. “I thought you'd be coming.”

 

Ichigo took three steps into the office before he noticed Gin Ichimaru was in here as well. He was leaning casually against the wall, his arms folded, and a wicked smirk on his face. Ichigo's eyes swept from one to the other and he swallowed, analyzing the situation as best he could considering the panicked state of his brain.

 

They could be here just talking about some sort of business venture…

 

“Congratulations, Mr. Kurosaki,” Mr. Aizen interjected smoothly, he raised his head from his papers and allowed a slick smile to creep onto his face. “Everything went according to plan. And, like I said, you are going to be greatly rewarded.”

 

Ichigo blinked twice and clenched his fists at his sides, “Right now,” he ground out angrily, “I'm not interested in anything but an explanation.”

 

Mr. Aizen cocked an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. He arched his fingers and touched the tips rhythmically. “Whatever do you mean?”

 

That smile was giving him nothing but bad feelings and Ichigo had the suspicious feeling that Mr. Aizen knew how unsettling he was being.

 

Nevertheless, Ichigo thrust his arm towards the door and pulled his face into a snarl, “I want to know why Rukia Kuchiki just ran out of here screaming and crying.”

 

Mr. Ichimaru moved in the periphery of his vision and Ichigo shot a glare over to him. His smile curled around the edges of his mouth and his eyes became small slits of glee.

 

Mr. Aizen only smiled, “What makes you think I had anything to do with it?”

 

“Maybe it's that sadistic smile on your face,” Ichigo snarled, growling like a rabid dog.

 

A light, deep, chuckle emanating from far in Mr. Aizen's throat. He shook his head slightly and slowly. He—like a panther beginning to circle its prey—leaned forward until both of his elbows were resting on the table. His cold gray eyes lifted to Ichigo's own fiery glare. He pressed his folded hands to his mouth. It looked like he was trying to suppress a grin.

 

“Ichigo,” Mr. Aizen said, his voice immediately switching from a genial tone to one a father might use with a confused son. “You've worked in this business for a few years, am I correct?”

 

“What the hell does this have to do with what I asked?” He demanded. He felt so tense… like if someone started touching him he'd immediately shatter into a million pieces.

 

“Everything,” hissed Mr. Ichimaru from the side. Ichigo looked over at him and saw a smile slither across his face.

 

“You see Ichigo,” Mr. Aizen continued, slightly enunciating his words even more, “When it comes to the business world you have to be ruthless. Absolutely, completely, ruthless.” He rose from his seat and walked over to his bookcase. He paused in front of a framed diploma and gently placed his hands behind his back.

 

“I didn't become the youngest owner of a multi-billion dollar company by being nice.” He observed, raising his hand and lightly brushing away a piece of dirt from the frame. “I had to fight for everything I wanted. Eventually, I came to realize that fighting was the only thing I would ever do in the business world.” He turned to Ichigo and removed his thick, boyish glasses from his face. Slowly, he ran a hand through his hair and smirked. “It's not like I mind. This world is a jungle; and in this jungle I am at the top of the food chain. I quite enjoy the thrill of the chase. Oh… just watching my prey struggle for its last breaths before I finally end its suffering and sever its jugular.”

 

Ichigo's eyes widened and his heart pounded viciously in his chest as he prayed that Rukia had not been one of his prey.

 

“The entirety of the Gotei Corporation was my prey this time…” he sighed and a happy, reminiscent, smile overcame his face. He turned to Ichigo and offered him a falsely sympathetic grimace. “I'm sorry I had to deceive you like this. But I couldn't have you knowing.”

 

Ichigo's heart stopped in his chest. “Knowing… what?”

 

“The takeover,” Mr. Ichimaru interjected, coming to stand a few feet from Mr. Aizen. “There was never going to be a merger between Suigetsu and Gotei. That was just a ruse. We took them over… and we did it yesterday.”

 

One heartbeat.

 

Two heartbeats.

 

“What?!”

 

“Yes,” Mr. Aizen continued as if Ichigo hadn't spoken. “But it's for the best, I assure you. After all, if we had merged our boards would have had to come together. I won't have any of Yamamoto's old geezers taking what is rightfully mine. With only our board over the two companies…” he raised his hand and stared at his palm with intense eyes. “I will be a god in this business.”

 

“And Rukia,” Ichigo gasped, finding it hard to breathe, “What did you do to Rukia?”

 

“She wasn't necessary,” Mr. Ichimaru's voice slid over Ichigo's skin like a disgusting snake, wrapping around him tighter and tighter until he couldn't even draw a single, godforsaken, breath.

 

“Wasn't…”

 

“She was terminated,” Mr. Aizen said in a clipped yet happy voice. “You should know why, you signed the papers that effectively ended her little farce here.”

 

“I… I… what?”

 

“The papers I gave you on Friday,” he said breezily, “I'm sorry I had to trick you, but it was necessary. Those papers effectively detailed that both you and she knew about the planned takeover and aided in its completion. Of course, I can only assume that when the Gotei Corporation found out she was instantly terminated from their company. Not that they exist anymore, of course.” He chuckled listlessly and straightened the frame of one of his many diplomas. “She she certainly isn't wanted here.”

 

Oh my God.

 

“But look on the bright side Ichigo,” Mr. Aizen cooed with false sense of sadistic cheer. “You are now the head of the legal department of the entirety of Suigetsu Incorporated… that, of course, includes all of the Gotei Corporation now. Your salary will be substantially increased, you'll have an office the size of a penthouse, and anything else you could ever want will be at your disposal.” He turned to Ichigo and grinned, “I told you that you'd be rewarded.”

 

Ichigo could not feel his body. His heart was thudding rapidly inside of his chest. His pulse screamed in his neck. He could no longer feel his lungs expanding and contracting.

 

Rukia…

 

“How… how could you do this to her?” He croaked, feeling like he needed something to lean against. The table was nearest, he placed his hand on the top and brought another to his burning forehead.

 

“She was expendable,” Mr. Aizen stated simply. He walked over to Ichigo and placed a hand on his shoulder. He fought back a shudder at the touch. Aizen felt cold. “I know that the two of you became… close. But simply, women like her don't belong in a world like this.”

 

He patted Ichigo's shoulder twice and squeezed it once. “I'll give you some time to digest this. I understand it must be a lot to take in right now. However, I expect you back and at one hundred and ten percent very soon. Gin… we have work to do.”

 

Mr. Ichimaru nodded once and stealthily moved towards the exit, following in the direct footsteps of Sosuke Aizen.

 

Ichigo was left standing near the table, his heart pounding, his head throbbing, and his hand furiously trying to hold the rest of him up.

 

“Think of it as a gift,” Mr. Aizen said softly before turning and shutting the door.

 

Ichigo's eyes glazed over.

 

“You… made me… love you…”

 

He could see her. He could see her so clearly: her beautiful sapphire eyes filled with salty liquid, her body trembling, her perfect mouth forming into a sob.

 

“You made me fall… in love… and I was nothing but a… but a… toy.”

 

“What have I done?”

 

*~*~*

 

Orihime Inoue played nervously with the end of her skirt as she craned her neck around the edges of her desk. She leaned and she leaned until her body was nearly out of the entire chair. She yelped as a bone in her neck cracked and grumpily sat back down. Her eyes hardened as a person who was not Ichigo Kurosaki came out of the elevator and began to walk down the hall. She sent them a chilling glare and turned her nose up at the greetings.

 

Muttering angrily, she tossed herself back into her chair, completely ignoring the phone ringing insistently before her. Instead, she turned in on herself and tried to remember each moment of such a delicious morning.

 

Seeing that whore walking out of the elevator had, without a doubt, been the greatest moment of her life. The look of complete and utter destruction resting on each of her disgusting features was so fantastic. The way her eyes seemed hollowed out… the way her face looked utterly bloodless… the way she was trying to hide the tears already streaming down her cheeks…

 

Orihime let out a giggle and took a moment to swirl around in her chair.

 

She got what she deserved.

 

Then… oh! What she had said to her! Orihime took a moment to bask in her own brilliance.

 

“I always wondered why he was with you. I mean… honestly, you're not really very pretty. But I guess you must be good in the sack. But really Rukia, in his desk? An elevator? The parking lot? Please, you're more like a big hoe than a corporate lawyer.”

 

Her face had been absolutely priceless. And the stuttering? Like icing on the cake.

 

“H—How… did…”

 

Orihime clapped her hands together and hoped that it had been the two last pictures that hit her the hardest.

 

“Oh please… pictures that delicious? Those just had to go on the internet. I bet the whole building knows by now.”

 

She sighed and closed her eyes to relive the moment once again. There were, of course, no copies of the photos. Mr. Schiffer had been very specific about not having actual, physical copies. However, he had sent her a digital copy that had a special lock on it so it couldn't be printed from any machine. She had seen what was going to destroy Rukia Kuchiki to the point where she'd be nothing more than an empty shell.

 

There were, however, no images of them on the internet.

 

“Oh, one teensy weensy fib,” she muttered to herself, pulling up a random game of solitaire and beginning to click the cards. “No one is going to know that they were together.”

 

Oh yes… she would never let those pictures get on the internet or into newspapers. She'd guard them with her life if she had to. No one—

 

Absolutely no one, she reminded herself with a growl.

 

Absolutely no one would see her Ichigo Kurosaki in a compromising state with that whore. If there were to be pictures of him put up for the world to see it would be pictures of her and him. She'd be the one bringing him pleasure. She'd be the one he was kissing. She'd be the one he wanted.

 

Yes…

 

Then all the yelling… it had been glorious. To see Rukia Kuchiki running like a terrified little girl had been so fantastic Orihime nearly didn't believe it when she first saw it. Half of her wished she had brought a video camera to work.

 

Today was such a good day.

 

Her eyes darkened as she remembered. With one exception…

 

The way Mr. Kurosaki had come running after her had not been very conducive to her plan at all. The look on his face… so panicked and hurt and fearful… it was almost like he actually wanted to help her.

 

That, of course, was completely ridiculous, Orihime told herself. After all, he was only with her because she had tricked him. She had probably tricked him into loving her as well. That was probably why he was acting so strangely.

 

Orihime brought a hand to her face and tapped her chin lightly. She would just have to work extra hard in order to bring Mr. Kurosaki back to his senses.

 

The elevator doors slid open with a ding and Orihime's eyes snapped over to the person now coming out.

 

She sucked in a large breath. Her chest puffed out and her breasts jiggled excitedly. He was coming towards her. His eyes were cast down but that didn't matter. She knew their chocolaty depths backwards and forwards. Hurriedly, she rose from her seat and took the three steps she needed so that she was directly in his path. Her nipples tightened on their own accord when she thought of what would soon happen between them.

 

Oh… Mr. Kurosaki…

 

He jerked to a stop only a few feet away from her. His head lifted and he blinked twice at her smiling face. Orihime's toothy grin faltered infinitesimally as she noticed his bloodshot eyes and his pale face but a moment later it was back at full force.

 

“Mr. Kurosaki,” she whispered breathlessly. She was ready for this… she had been waiting for this moment for what seemed like her entire life.

 

“Inoue,” he croaked, tilting his body to the side so that he could pass her.

 

She stepped in the same direction and deliberately blocked his path. He didn't make another move forward and Orihime held her position, pushing her breasts out a bit more until they were only a few inches away from his hanging head.

 

She heard him draw in a deep breath and finally, he raised his head and looked her straight in the eyes. “What do you want Inoue?” He demanded in a gravelly voice.

 

That's probably what he sounds like directly after love-making… or maybe when he wakes up in the morning… or when he has a cold! She thought excitedly, attempting—and failing—to calm her rapidly beating heart.

 

Okay… I can do this.

 

“Mr. Kurosaki…Ichigo,” she started, her hands were curled into fist and her tongue ran diligently over her lips. She wouldn't deny the thrill she had gotten from saying his first name. She squared her shoulder and continued, “I want to go on a date with you.”

 

He only blinked once.

 

That's good, right? She thought for a moment, then nodded mentally. Of course it is.

 

“Why would you ever think I would go on a date with you?” He asked in a voice that was… bland.

 

Orihime frowned; this man was not her Ichigo Kurosaki. He was fiery and uncontrollable and wild! This creature in front of her had his form but… he looked so dead inside.

 

It's all that whore's fault. She thought angrily, her fingernails biting into the skin of her palms.

 

“Because,” she began, realizing that if he was starting to move away from her again. She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. If he wanted an explanation he would get one, “If I lived five lifetimes I'd want to be with you for each one. Because I know that you and Rukia Kuchiki—” she spat out the disgusting name venomously, “—are done. Because I know that she tricked you into loving her. And because I know that I can replace that miniature witch in your heart as quickly as you can ask me what time to pick me up.”

 

His eyes widened and Orihime congratulated herself on how effectively she had delivered her little speech. Surely he couldn't resist her now that she had just confessed everything to him. How could he, when she was right here, presenting herself to him? How could he, when she had just professed to loving him? How could he, when he was probably thinking about the one kiss they had shared only a few days ago?

 

She blushed at the thought. Of course, she had been thinking about it. It had never left her mind since the minute it happened. It didn't leave her in the day or in the night. She thought about it at work, she dreamt about it at night, and she couldn't keep it from her mind during the sparse free moments she'd have throughout the day.

 

Of course, in her mind, the kiss was turned into much, much, more. His hands running over her body, his mouth on her breasts, his cock deep inside of her, and his orgasm rushing into her.

 

Her fazed-over eyes focused on him again and she sighed at the determined lines on his face.

 

He straightened to the point where he was towering over her. Orihime shuddered softly, oh… how many times had she imagined him shoving her against a desk and ravishing her? With his height she had deduced that it would be quite easy to do.

 

“Once again, why would you ever think I would go on a date with you?” He demanded, his voice nothing short of feral.

 

He brushed past her and shoved his body into his office. Orihime stood rooted in her spot. Her brain was buzzing as she listened to the rustling inside of those doors.

 

Does he need me to repeat myself? She asked herself. … Probably.

 

She turned around and waited for him to come back out of his office. That was it; all she needed to do was make sure that he heard her. He probably had some sort of ear infection that caused him to not hear very well. Or maybe there was a large amount of earwax stuffed in his ear canal! She had heard that that was a very common problem these days.

 

Mr. Kurosaki—Ichigo, she shuddered softly—burst through his office door with his coat in hand and his car keys in the other. Orihime steeled herself and opened her mouth to give him her explanation again. Louder this time, just so he could hear her.

 

He stopped in front of her and raised his eyes to hers. She sighed and allowed a happy smile to melt onto her features. “I said—”

 

“Inoue,” he interrupted and she shut up immediately, clasping her hands behind her back and pushing her chest out even more. If anything would win him over it was her enormous gifts.

 

“Yes?” She asked breathlessly.

 

He stared deeply into her eyes and narrowed his own, “How's your dog?”

 

“I don't have a dog,” she answered immediately, unfazed by his silly question. “But we can get one if you want.” Her smile was so wide that it forced her eyes to squeeze shut. She giggled happily at the thought of having a dog with Mr. Kurosaki… Ichigo.

 

First comes dog then comes baby… she sang inwardly.

 

“That's what I thought,” he muttered, his voice dead.

 

He was at the elevator before she could say another word. The doors opened and he slid inside, pushing the button for another floor and not even looking up once.

 

Orihime Inoue stood, completely dumbfounded, in the middle of the hall.

 

“Was it something I said?” She whispered, half to herself and half to anyone was listening.

 

*~*~*

 

“You need to eat,” Rukia whispered in a voice as dry and as cracked as her eyes.

 

“So do you,” Momo answered in a voice that was just as bad as Rukia's.

 

They were sitting on the couch, their hands clasped together, holding their respective pillows and wiping their faces with any inch of untainted clothing they could get their hands on.

 

“I'm not hungry.” Rukia murmured, closing her dry and burning eyes and fighting back a new wave of tears and nausea.

 

“Neither am I,” Momo muttered, choking slightly and swallowing audibly.

 

If Rukia had been Rukia she would have cracked a dry joke about that comment. Normally, Momo liked to form a very intimate relationship with ice cream after a break up.

 

But Rukia was not Rukia right now. She could never make that comment. Momo wasn't going through just another break up. This was so much worse. Not to mention the thought of intimacy with ice cream only made her think of Ichigo and the time they had… they had…

 

“Rukia,” she whispered, another sniffle permeating her phrase, “Can I… can I stay w-with y-you f-for a wh-while?”

 

The question made Rukia feel like a giant was stamping on the tattered and bleeding remnants of her already desecrated heart. “Of course Momo. I…” she bit her lip and tried to fight a sob, “I need you right now.”

 

Momo's red eyes watered as well, “I need you too…”

 

Rukia let in a shuddering breath and tightened her grip on Momo's hand and dragged it quickly into her lap. Her movements felt sluggish and old. Slowly, she was able to get Momo to look at her.

 

What a sight we must be right now, she mused miserably, taking in her friend's destroyed appearance and realizing that she must look about the same.

 

“We need each other,” Rukia whispered in a voice so quiet she doubted for a moment that Momo could even hear her. “The two of us.” She said, louder this time, “We'll help each other through this. We'll get through this together.”

 

Momo nodded and brought her other hand up to Rukia's. “We'll help each other.” She murmured, her voice thick with tears and emotion.

 

“You're my best friend Momo,” Rukia said, trying so hard to keep her voice from cracking. “I couldn't get through this without you.”

 

“D-Ditto,” she sobbed, lurching forward only to be enveloped into a tight hug. Rukia held onto Momo like she was her lifeline. She breathed in deep, shuddering, breaths and tried to force the images of him out of her mind.

 

They held each other for a few more moments before slowly breaking apart. Rukia swallowed several times and wiped the bases of her eyes, “I'll call House of Wong and have them deliver.”

 

“O—Okay,” Momo choked, turning away and wiping her eyes as well. “I'll…” she looked disparagingly at the couch and many of the tear and snot stained pillows. “Clean up a bit.”

 

The two of them sat on the couch for nearly thirty more minutes in dead silence before either one of them found the strength to move. Rukia creaked towards her phone and had almost reached the device when she heard it ring.

 

She felt so dead inside that even the shrill, piercing, cry did not make her jump like it occasionally did. She sighed and let it pass to her voicemail. Her voice—back when it had been somewhat lively—filled the room as the machine spoke: “This is the home of Rukia Kuchiki. Leave a message.”

 

“Rukia.”

 

She froze and felt another wave of tears flooding the backs of her eyes.

 

“Rukia… I know you're there. Please pick up. Rukia! Please I need to talk to you! Rukia… please Rukia, don't let it be like this. Just let me explain. I need to—”

 

She jerked forward and ripped the entire phone, the phone cord, and the jack, out of the socket in the wall. She let out a hoarse scream as she threw the phone to the ground. It clattered away from her and slid to the other end of the room; it was then left in stark dismemberment, with the lights only blinking twice before going out completely.

 

Rukia clapped her hands over her ears and sank to the floor, her scratched and bloodied knees banging onto the hardwood beneath her. She sobbed anew as fresh tears drenched her eyes. Momo came running over to her and instantly wrapped her arms around Rukia's shoulders.

 

“Shh… shh… it's okay Rukia… it's going to be okay…” she said, her own voice broken by sobs.

 

Rukia shook her head, knowing that Momo was lying even though she was trying her best to comfort her.

 

Slowly, Momo rocked Rukia back and forth, willing the pain to go away.

 

Pain never listens.

 

*~*~*

 

Ichigo tightened his lips as his phone was cut off. He brought it down to his lap and pressed redial. Only a dial tone came through the speaker.

 

“Damn it,” he cursed in a voice that was thick with something he'd rather not name. “Rukia…”

 

He tried her cell phone but apparently it had been turned off. He got her voicemail right away. He cursed again and threw his phone into the nether regions of his car. Sitting on the curb in the middle of a dingy street, his black Benz looked like a swan among a flock of chickens, he didn't care though. He had just needed to get away from that horrid place. He needed to get away, to stop, and to think.

 

He pressed a hand to his hot forehead and tried to breathe. It wasn't working very well though… the whole breathing thing. His lungs felt constricted and his body felt compressed. His heart was thumping at an agonizingly slow rate inside of his chest and his mind was clouded with pain.

 

What do I do now?

 

The question lingered in his head the way he lingered on the street. He just didn't know. He didn't know what to do.

 

Rukia…

 

Just then, his cell phone began buzzing. He moved faster than he could ever remember moving before. His hand shot in front of the passenger seat and his fingers closed around the cool metal of his cell.

 

He flipped it open without looking at the caller identification. “Rukia?” He demanded breathlessly.

 

There was a slight pause and Ichigo's heart tripled in speed. “No…” the voice said after a moment. “It's Tatsuki.”

 

His heart stopped beating and fell down into his stomach. The plop was almost audible. “Oh. What do you want?”

 

“You were expecting your girlfriend?” Tatsuki's voice sounded tense.

 

“Yes,” Ichigo snapped, not in the mood to engage in this bitter banter with his friend. He needed to find a way to fix things with Rukia… and fast. He didn't know how much longer he could go on without seeing her.

 

He didn't know how much longer he could take knowing that she was crying because of him.

 

“What do want, Tatsuki?” He demanded harshly, “I have things to do.”

 

He could practically see Tatsuki bristling from the other end of the phone. “Oh… oh yeah, I'm sorry, things to do. Things like, I don't know, say going and apologizing for taking her job? For practically destroying her? For outright ruining her life?”

 

His eyes widened. “H…How did you know…”

 

“Moron, that's what I called you about,” she spat, her voice filled with disgust. “I'm running the story in tomorrow's paper.”

 

The blood in his face—what little was left of it anyway—drained away completely. “You're w-what?”

 

“It's my assignment for the Ledger,” she told him shortly, “I just thought I should let you know in case… well, you know.”

 

“Tatsuki,” he choked, “You… you can't. I—I swear that I didn't do what you think I did but… but…” He ground his teeth together and felt the cords in his neck come close to snapping. Christ, why was this happening? Things had been going so well.

 

He fought the urge to slam his fist through his windshield.

 

There was silence on the line before he heard a stack of papers being thrown onto a desk. “Ichigo… what do you mean you didn't do what I think you did?”

 

“Off the record?” He sighed, feeling the cold fingers of dread entering his throat and slowly cutting off his air supply.

 

The pause was heavy and edged with annoyance. “For now.” She muttered.

 

“I'm being set up,” he said clearly, his voice cutting through any remaining quiet. “Tatsuki… I was working with Rukia on the merger between Gotei and Suigetsu. I never knew anything about a hostile takeover. I was never working on any paperwork that would have given Suigetsu any sort of advantage.”

 

“You're sure?”

 

“Yes!” He rubbed two of his fingers against the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Except… last Friday, Aizen—” he spat his name like a curse, “—he gave me these papers to sign. He told me that they were just order forms for new chairs and stuff so I didn't read it over. I signed them and made Rukia sign them too.”

 

“What were they?”

 

“Papers saying that I had explicit knowledge of the fact that Suigetsu was taking over Gotei.”

 

“And you didn't?”

 

Ichigo's temper boiled over the edge and he shouted, “I only found out about the takeover this morning when Rukia ran out of our office crying!”

 

Tatsuki heaved a heavy sigh and then groaned, “I can't believe you didn't even read what you were signing. That's business one-oh-one Ichigo.”

 

“I was in a hurry to leave,” he growled, his mind immediately dredging up what had happened directly after he had gotten Rukia to sign the papers. Or… as he should say, sign her execution order.

 

“I know, it was a huge miscalculation that's cost me more than I want… more than I'm even willing to admit but… Christ Tatsuki, don't you think he would have eventually found some other way of getting us to sign the damn papers without reading them?”

 

“You have a point,” she muttered reluctantly after a slight pause, “But still Ichigo, with one signature you ruined her.”

 

“I know that!” He shouted into the phone, slamming his hand down onto the steering wheel and accidentally squealing the horn. “Damn it Tatsuki. I feel like I've had my fucking heart ripped out of my chest! Do you know how much it hurt me to see Rukia crying like that and blaming me for something that I know I didn't do? I didn't even know what she was talking about until I spoke with Aizen afterwards! She won't answer my calls, she's not responding to my emails, she's probably shredding any fax I've sent, ten bucks says she's already got a persona non grata out on me at her building, and I can't contact her any other way!” He slammed his hand onto his wheel again and this time his strangled scream was in tune with the bellowing horn. “I don't know what to do and all I can think of doing right now is going to her and… and…” his voice went from enraged to defeated in less than three seconds. He bent his head and moaned softly, “And holding her until she stops… until she stops… crying and… and just apologizing for everything. Even the things I didn't do.”

 

His breathing was heavy and his body was lying against the soft leather of his car seat. Ichigo's eyes were burning with something he would never admit to. His chest was so tight… it felt like his heart was exploding.

 

“Shit Tatsuki,” he whispered brokenly, “Why did this have to happen?”

 

He sat in his seat, not really expecting an answer, but waiting for one nonetheless. He shook his head and tried not to let his devastated emotions get the better of him. He didn't know what to do… he felt so helpless…

 

No one should feel as helpless as I do right now, he thought miserably. No one… and especially not Rukia.

 

“Ichigo!”

 

His attention snapped back to the voice that was now speaking to him from his lap. He looked grimly down and realized that he had allowed his hand to limply rest on his lap. He picked it up after a moment and placed it next to his ear. He just felt so… tired.

 

“Yeah Tatsuki?” He mumbled in a voice laced with defeat.

 

“Ichigo…” she sounded a bit conflicted as she spoke, “I—I'm going to run a story on the takeover.”

 

He sucked in a breath and prayed that she wouldn't say what he thought she was going to say.

 

“I won't include anything about your supposed part in the whole thing. And I won't say anything about Rukia's supposed betrayal of Gotei Corp. either, okay?” Ichigo was ready to thank her several thousand times before she cut him off again. “But just because I don't write it for the Ledger doesn't mean that others newspapers won't.”

 

“Thank you Tatsuki,” he croaked, knowing full-well that the Karakura Ledger basically had a monopoly on all of the newspapers in the city.

 

“My editor will probably kill me,” she muttered angrily into the phone, “But… I'll need to give him something more. A bargaining chip, per say.”

 

Ichigo's brain, which had been so drained just a moment ago, seemed to sharpen at her words. “What do you mean something more?”

 

“You said you were set up, right?” She said clearly, “Well what if there are a couple more facets we're not looking at? What if there's something that's deeper than this going on right now?”

 

“A conspiracy?”

 

She drew in a large breath and cleared her throat. “No… those are a bitch to prove. But think about if Ichigo, if you go back and find out what's really going on… why all this secrecy, why Rukia was chosen as the fall-girl, why Gotei was so under protected against a possible takeover—not just from Suigetsu, hell, from anyone. You know, stuff like that, then I can take it and make sure that the top guys at Suigetsu will get guillotined in the public eye.”

 

His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, “You'd do that?”

 

“It's every reporters dream to be singlehandedly responsible for the public executions of multibillion dollar company executives,” she responded with a slight amount of demonic glee in her voice. “After all, `greedy eaters dig their graves with their teeth.'”

 

Ichigo nodded and expelled a breath of air he hadn't even realized he had been holding in. “And Rukia? If I… if I find out what's going on… do you think she'll forgive me?”

 

“Do I sound like I know the inner-workings of Rukia Kuchiki's brain?”

 

“Tatsuki,” he growled, “If you were in her place what would you do?”

 

“Shoot you in the head.”

 

“And if I survived?”

 

She sighed and his heart sunk in his chest, “Ichigo… if I was her and I found out that you were the reason I had lost my job and my dignity as well as any lingering respect that people might have for me… I don't know if I could ever forgive you.”

 

“Please don't say that,” he whispered thickly.

 

“You asked.”

 

He nodded and bit his bottom lip. “I can't lose her, Tatsuki. I can't. I'm not… I'm not strong enough for that.”

 

Another sigh came across the line and Ichigo placed a cold palm against his hot eyes.

 

“You know Ichigo,” she began softly, “An ancient Chinese philosopher once said `seek not happiness too greedily, and be not fearful of happiness.'”

 

“What are you trying to say?” He muttered in defeat, all of his normal defenses were gone, demolished by what Tatsuki had just told him. He wasn't in the mood to start analyzing old Taoist sayings.

 

“What I mean,” she snapped, “Is that for the longest time you had Rukia Kuchiki. She was yours and you were just too stupid to take it to the next level. Trust me, she wouldn't be acting like this if she wasn't in love with you. Her heart is probably shattered into a million pieces right now.”

 

“You… made me… love you… You made me fall… in love… and I was nothing but a… but a… toy.”

 

He knew Tatsuki was scowling at him over the phone. “I'm guessing that you were too much of a coward to actually even consider that you had feelings for her. Can you imagine how that must have been for her? To know that she fell for a guy who didn't even love her back?”

 

Ichigo was about to say something but Tatsuki still wasn't finished, “Ichigo… if you love her—and don't bother denying it, I know you do—then win her back. Find out what those bastards did to her and get her back any way you can.”

 

“But will she accept it?” He murmured, hopelessness still permeating his voice, “Do you think she'll ever be able to forgive me?”

 

“If she knows it wasn't you that fucked up her life,” Tatsuki stated dryly. “But I'd hurry Ichigo. Girls like Rukia Kuchiki don't stay in one place. Especially after they've been hurt like that.”

 

A bucket of ice water was promptly shoved down Ichigo's throat and cascaded into his stomach. He bolted upright in his seat and tried to calm his frantic breathing. Rukia… leaving… the very thought made his face feel feverish and cold at the same time.

 

“She can't,” he croaked, “She can't.”

 

“She can,” Tatsuki told him coldly. “You just have to make sure that she doesn't.”

 

“How much time can you give me?”

 

“Since my editor owes me for not telling his wife about his little escapade with last year's Miss Karakura winner… I'd say about…” he heard flipping on her desk and wondered if she was looking through a planner, “Five weeks. About a month and a half.”

 

“It'll be done,” Ichigo growled furiously, “I don't care what it takes. I'm going to fix this.” He paused and clenched her teeth together. “I'm going to win her back.”

 

“I know you can.”

 

“I will.”

 

*~*~*

 

“I don't think I can do this Momo,” Rukia sobbed from her curled position on the floor. Momo's arm was resting around her shoulders and she was patting her gently.

 

“Shh…” Momo choked, “Don't say that Rukia. We're in this together, remember?”

 

“No,” Rukia shook, her body was trembling so violently she wondered how she could still be sitting properly. “I—I can't… not after… this is so much wo-worse than K-Kaien.”

 

“I—I know,” Momo murmured, hugging Rukia as tightly as she could, “I know.”

 

“Everything here r-reminds me-e of h-him.” She sobbed, “The couch, the bed, the shower, the counter, the table… everything!” She screamed the last word through a thickly coated throat.

 

“It's the same with me,” her friend said, shaking quietly against her.

 

“I need to get away,” Rukia whispered, her eyes glazing over, “Aw-way from this p-place, away from th-this town, and a-away from anything t-that reminds me of h-him.”

 

“H-How?”

 

There was silence between them, broken only by sobs and sniffles. Rukia's eyes became level with the trashed telephone and she clenched her teeth hard. She wanted to forget about him. She wanted to expunge his voice from her head. His touch… his taste… his kiss… she wanted it all gone.

 

She wanted to be gone.

 

“We could move,” Rukia whispered, her voice lost all semblances of their former tears. She spoke in a voice that was dry, raw, and empty. “We could go somewhere else. Somewhere where we couldn't be found. Somewhere where we can become new people. Somewhere where we can leave this life behind.”

 

She turned to Momo and closed her eyes gently, “Rome, Paris, London, Prague, Vienna…” she opened her eyes and stared at Momo's watering gaze. “New York.”

 

They stared at each other in silence.

 

“We could go to New York,” Momo whispered, reaching her hand over to Rukia's and gripping it tightly. “It's over three thousand miles away.”

 

Rukia nodded, “We could go to New York… and we could start over.”

 

“New us.” She whispered.

 

“New life.” Rukia agreed.

 

“Away from… this.” Momo choked.

 

“Away from… them.” Rukia wept. “We'll move to New York. The two of us. Starting over.”

 

Momo looked over at her best friend, and for the first time since she had told Rukia about her disastrous meeting with her former-fiancé, Rukia saw a bit of hope gleaming in her eyes. Momo nodded her head and rasped, “Yeah.”

 

 

 

 

(A/N: And things just keep on getting brighter, don't they? Giggle.

 

I want to thank everyone who reviewed for the last chapter. I can't believe there's over 400 reviews… that's just phenomenal. Thank you all sooooooooooo much! Reviewers like you keep us authors going!

 

PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!)