Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Princess of Death ❯ Purpose ( Chapter 3 )

Date written: 28/03/09 - 02/04/09

Rewrote with Beta: 10/04/09

Posted on FanFiction: 10/04/09

Posted on MediaMiner: 20/06/09

A/N: This chapter centers on character development with Orihime. Ichigo's determination originates from Rukia setting his mind straight about his new role—it was around Episode 2, at the park scene. While watching that scene, I've realized that Kubo gave Ichigo a reason to fight for strangers, going so far as to risk his life, so to speak. And I began thinking, `If Orihime doesn't have a valid reason, then this story won't be executed properly.' I'm a firm believer that the characters in a story are not puppets; they have their own unique personality, likes and dislikes, preferences, and also flaws. To deepen the characters in this AU further, I have to provide proper character development. If I get good reception for this, I might add some more character development plots I have in mind.

Though it took some time, my beta, NocturnalFerri, had done an incredible job in rectifying the mistakes I made in this chapter. Your personal best, NF.

--- CHAPTER 3 ---

Purpose

Orihime walked to school, looking dejectedly at the ground. This wasn't like the usually cheerful disposition she had always been known for. In fact, she hadn't smiled at all since she woke up that morning. Tatsuki walked beside her as they made their way towards school. She knew that Tatsuki was a little worried about her severe change of character—she had never been described as `gloomy' before—and even asked her if she was melancholic today because of the sumo wrestler who breached through her apartment's wall—on the second floor!—last night. How that was possible, Tatsuki couldn't figure out. Nor did Orihime; she was only told that Rukia modified Tatsuki's memories. She thought that the raven-haired woman must've used something like that memory-eraser-thingy from the MIB movie to modify—or in Orihime's vocabulary, erase—what happened last night in Tatsuki's mind. It made sense to replace Tatsuki's memories from last night with fake ones for her safety, but what didn't make sense was why those memories were so ludicrous. If shinigami were supposed to keep this `invisible battle' from humans, then why use such exaggerated memory-modifiers in the first place?

Maybe I can ask Kuchiki-san later.

They arrived at school without incident and entered their classroom, and were then greeted by—

“Hime-chan!”

BASH!

“Mornin' Chizuru,” Tatsuki said as she did a clothesline wrestling move on the redhead's neck before she could get close to groping Orihime.

“Good morning, Chizuru-chan,” Orihime said. The recipient, however, was still knocked out and sprawled on the ground.

“Leave her there, Orihime. She can wake up on her own.”

“That's . . . cruel . . .” Chizuru gasped as it was a little difficult to breathe with her slightly crushed throat. Orihime knew that if Tatsuki had been serious in hurting the lesbian, she would've crushed her throat thoroughly. Tatsuki is a martial artist, not a wrestler, after all.

Orihime set down her bag on her desk and inadvertently moved her gaze to Ichigo Kurosaki's currently empty seat. To that seat's right was another empty seat where Rukia Kuchiki would sit. Just looking at those two empty seats made her recall the last revelation she had last night that had an even bigger impact on her than finding out she was now a shinigami. She was only suspecting the likelihood of Ichigo and Rukia living under the same roof, but the chances of it being true were big. To nullify or enhance her worries, she needed to clarify the matter with Rukia; Ichigo was out of the question; Orihime wouldn't know how to approach him with the subject, anyway.

“Good morning, Ichi—”

BASH!

“Yo!” Ichigo greeted as he did a clothesline wrestling move on Keigo Asano's neck. The only reason why he did that was because Keigo was about to jump him, and it was just out of reflex. Orihime had a feeling of déjà vu.

“Good morning, Kurosaki-kun,” Orihime greeted.

“Oh . . . uh . . . morning, Inoue,” Ichigo replied.

“Something wrong, Ichigo?” Tatsuki asked, arms crossed. “You're stuttering.”

“No, I'm not,” he said tiredly. He then said to Orihime, “Can you meet me on the roof fifteen minutes before lunch ends?”

“Heh?” Orihime's vocabulary went down to the capacity of a very dumbfounded person. She had an idea why he wanted to meet with her later but her head thought of other ideas that didn't involve anything about shinigami. She inadvertently blushed.

“I said can you meet me at the roof a quarter before lunch ends?”

Tatsuki whispered to Orihime, “Ohoho, looks like Ichigo is finally making the moves on you, Orihime.” If possible, Orihime's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. “You better accept.”

Orihime can only nod at her friend. She smiled her first smile of the day at her, making Tatsuki smile back after seeing that her best friend was happy again. Steeling herself, Orihime squeaked out an audible “Yes!” before looking away, while cupping both of her cheeks with her hands as if the embarrassment was enough to make her cheeks melt at their heating redness and she had to keep them from falling off her face. Though she was embarrassed, she was also happy. She knew for a fact that Ichigo wanted to talk about their shinigami status, but she didn't care. She considered this little meeting as a date of sorts, and she was just glad that she would be having her first date with Ichigo even if it was only for fifteen minutes.

“All right, see you then,” Ichigo said, and went to his seat.

It wasn't long before class started. And as time forwarded into an unknown future, Orihime was waiting impatiently for the clock to get to 12:45. At least when she was having lunch with the girls, the topic of interest was about the hole in her apartment's wall. She needed to have her full attention on the conversation to convince them that it was all as Tatsuki `remembered.' But, for Tatsuki's reputation, she was the one who told them about the sumo wrestler.

For the very first time, Orihime actually wanted lunch to end very soon.

Meanwhile, up on the roof . . .

Ichigo Kurosaki was massaging his forehead, the spot where he had a pretty deep gash from last night. He had let Rukia heal him with her kidou (Demon Arts) but never thought that the extent of the healing can go as far as repairing the damaged tissue, leaving no scar to be left as a reminder of his hesitant mistake. But he learned his lesson the hard way, in the end.

What he couldn't seem to comprehend was the fact that Orihime was now a shinigami. He had the whole night to get this bit of info into his head but as much as he tried, the very idea of it seemed ludicrous. He wouldn't call this denial, more like a fact you can't seem to get into your head. Like when you're stuck with a particular math problem in the first grade, but finding it easy as you got older. The solution had become second nature by then, and you could barely remember why you had such a hard time with it before. So he only needed time. That was all he needed.

But apart from what Orihime became, he felt the urge to know how Orihime became a shinigami. Replaying all the memories he had last night, he was certain that her chain of fate had been literally torn off her chest by her Hollow-turned brother. And that was not enough to actually become a shinigami, right? She would need a power, an inborn sort of talent to become one—though Ichigo was an exception, seeing that his powers were only borrowed. Just thinking about this complicated stuff didn't really spring any answers to mind whatsoever; it only gave him a headache in the end.

But maybe that was why he asked her to meet him later fifteen minutes before lunch ended. He didn't tell Rukia about their planned meeting yet; he was compelled to talk about this with Orihime alone. Rukia wasn't exactly the kind of person that can hold back or sugar coat once she dropped that aggravating façade she uses on their classmates; well, he could be just as blunt as her sometimes, so he wasn't one to talk, but, nonetheless, he knew when to be sensitive when the situation needed it. When Orihime's chain of fate had been severed, she had died. Rukia said that before— if her chain of fate were to be completely cut off, then she dies—and he saw it with his own two eyes. How angry he felt when he failed to save her. But Orihime didn't die as easily as snapping your fingers. The only way to describe it was to say that Orihime was `reborn' as a shinigami, and its cause was still unknown to the three of them.

So why did he call out to Orihime if he already deducted what he knew?

He guessed he needed to be sure about something. He had suspected it, but never brought it up. There was only one way to answer the question he had been asking himself ever since he first met Orihime, and that was to ask her directly. It would be easy—very easy—if it was not Orihime. If it were anyone else he could have gone on and asked his question directly without hesitation, but when it came to Orihime he just couldn't face her and ask. Well, he already went as far as asking her to meet him alone on the roof. There was no way to back out of this now.

“Hey, Ichigo.” The voice stopped Ichigo's musings and made him look up at the speaker. Instead of seeing a face, he was forced to look at a strawberry juicebox. “Help me with this.”

“Rukia.” He didn't need to say more. The owner of the voice had enough bluntness that it was beyond obvious as to who it was. Ichigo took one look at the juicebox and Rukia's serious face, and said, “You just insert the straw into the circle on top of the box.”

“The straw?” she repeated, then back went to pondering the unknown process of opening the mysterious drink.

This was one of the things that intrigued Ichigo a bit—just a bit. Apparently, Rukia was not that well informed of the swift advances of technology in the human world. Her knowledge may have been up-to-date until at least the 1920s, but not now. There had been some technological upgrades in Soul Society as well, judging by the precision of the `Hollow Radar' in Rukia's cell phone when finding Hollows in the city. Still, her confusion over a simple juicebox was good for a little entertainment.

“Looks like you two are together again,” Ichigo and Rukia's classmate, Mizuiro Kojima, commented as he made his way to where they were leaning against the tall, red railings of the roof. “Are you two seeing each other, perhaps?”

“As if.” Ichigo snorted. Rukia said nothing; she was too engrossed in trying to figure out how to drink her juice.

“Oh my God!” A new (and annoying) voice entered the scene. “Do my eyes deceive me?! Has our new transfer student, Kuchiki-san, blessed us with her presence here in our usual eating place? Oh! The heavens have not abandoned us!”

“Shut up, Keigo,” Ichigo said. “You're ruining our lunch.”

“What Ichigo means is,” Mizuiro interjected, “that you're interrupting his well-calculated approach on Kuchiki-san.”

Ichigo looked indifferent, but his eyebrow did twitch a millimeter.

“WHAT?!!” Keigo yelled, looking at Ichigo with untold fury. “ICHIGO, YOU BASTARD!!!” His expression then changed—“Good job!”—into a tear-jerking idiot with both of his hands giving the thumbs-up at the orange-haired teen.

If he comes any closer, I'm gonna totally kick his ass! Ichigo thought. It was a good thing that he had finished his juice long ago, because he was currently squeezing the empty box in annoyance. He used to have very little patience for Keigo, and more than once did the guy become a victim of a well-executed backhand from his fist. Keigo never really complained about it. But now, Ichigo developed a kind of tolerance for his friend's strange antics but still, a guy has his limits. The only difference was that the frequency of the Keigo beatings had diminished quite substantially since they first met during middle school.

When Ichigo snapped out of his thoughts, he heard Keigo say something to Rukia, to which she showed him her still unopened juicebox. Keigo had a contemplating look on his face before he broke into a wide grin as he decided to `help the new transfer student with her problem,' as the guy put it. Looking away without much interest over how things would play out between the two, Ichigo saw another person making their way towards them.

“Hey, Chad,” Ichigo greeted. He noticed the bird cage the Mexican giant was carrying, and also how he was bandaged up on his forehead as well as his right arm. Come to think of it, Chad hadn't come to the morning classes today.

The others chorused greetings as well as Chad, whose real name is Yasutora Sado, sat down on the floor with his curry bread firmly held in his other hand. Chad set down the bird cage which housed a small, cute cockatiel that seemed to stare at Ichigo in childish wonder. He had a sudden feeling that this was not a normal bird.

“How come you're injured?” Ichigo inquired.

Chad looked at his arm and said, “The one on my head came from a steel girder that fell on me last night.”

“STEEL GIRDER?!” Keigo, Mizuiro, and Ichigo chorused. “AND YOU'RE STILL ALIVE?!”

I'm still wondering what the hell Chad's made of, Ichigo thought, or if he's really human.

“The one on my arm,” the giant continued, “happened when I was on my way to school. A motorcycle driver lost control of his bike and it headed straight at me. I had to use this arm to protect myself. Unfortunately, the biker was injured, so I rushed him to the hospital.”

“So that's why you came to school just now,” Ichigo said. Honestly, Chad, what the hell are you made of?

“Hey, Chad, why'd you bring a cockatiel to school?” Keigo asked, observing the bird in question.

The cockatiel fluttered its wings a bit before saying, “Nice to meet you all. My name is Yuuichi Shibata.”

“Woah! It can talk fluently. Man, Chad, this here's a really talented bird. Hey, can you say `Keigo?'”

Ichigo, however, didn't share the same kind of enthusiasm Keigo and Mizuiro have when the cockatiel talked. He instead felt a sort of `pulse' when it started to speak, and he immediately knew that the way the cockatiel was speaking was unnatural.

“Where'd you get the bird, Chad?” Ichigo asked, hoping to find some answers from the Mexican.

“Yesterday, I . . .”—Five seconds later—“I got it.”

“Hey, what's the deal? You just shortened the whole story without telling us anything!” Keigo accused.

“No, I did not.”

“Don't lie. Tell us everything, now. Come on!”

Tuning out the pointless conversation, Ichigo turned towards Rukia, who was looking at Chad trying to feed the cockatiel a tiny portion of his curry bread, and waited for some kind of confirmation from her.

He whispered to her, “Rukia, was that—”

“Yeah,” she interjected in a hushed tone, “a Plus. Somehow, it had merged itself into the body of that cockatiel.”

“Anything else I should be aware of?” He watched Mizuiro and Keigo look in amazement as the cockatiel spoke fluent Japanese again.

“No. We can do the konso (Soul burial) tonight.”

Ichigo sighed. “Great. Another night without much sleep. Man, what a drag.”

“Don't complain. Hmm . . . this juice is good.”

Ichigo wanted to reply to that, but held his tongue instead. His mind then turned to the situation he had. Checking his watch, he would be meeting Orihime here on the roof twenty minutes from now. By that time, he needed to drive all four people who were on the roof with him out. He needed a private conversation with the girl and he couldn't do that without being alone with her. Thankfully, he and the guys would often finish up lunch long before 12:45. Keigo, Mizuiro, and Chad (even if he had eaten late, he would stick with the unwritten schedule) were out of the loop, then. The obstacle now would be Rukia.

Due to his shinigami duties, she would often be by his side. It had only been two days since she transferred in the school but rumors had already circulated everywhere that Rukia would usually be where he was; it was annoying but making a big fuss about it would only make it worse. The only way he can convince her would be to tell her he needed to speak with Orihime alone. He was thankful that Rukia could understand enough about Orihime's situation that when he told her he wanted to speak to her alone about it, she agreed, albeit reluctantly.

So when the three boys left the roof—

“Aren't you coming, Ichigo?” Keigo asked.

“I'll catch up with you guys later,” he replied. “I need to clear my head of something first.”

“All right.”

—Rukia gave one final look at Ichigo that clearly said, `Tell me everything later,' before she joined the others in exiting the roof.

Ichigo checked his watch again.

12:39

He waited for Orihime to come.

12:45

By that time, Orihime had already arrived at the rooftop and found it empty except for the presence of the one who called her there. He was leaning against the railing, watching the passing clouds, waiting for her. Orihime felt her heart flutter at the sight of Ichigo, and she had to double her efforts not to back down. They were only going to talk, right? Nothing wrong about that. Nothing insinuating, right? Right, right.

“Ku—Kurosaki-kun?” She had to clear her throat before her voice could come out strained like some nervous wreck. Truthfully, she was nervous but she didn't want Ichigo to know that.

“Inoue,” he replied in greeting. He motioned for her to stand next to him at the railing. Orihime nodded, blushing a little, and walked towards the spot where her crush was.

“You wanted to talk to me?” she asked.

He nodded. He was silent for awhile before he asked, “Are you okay with this?”

“Heh?” The question completely caught Orihime off guard.

“You becoming a shinigami, I mean. Are you okay with all of this?”

“I'm not entirely sure, but we can't change what has already been done. I guess I'll just have to get used to it.” She smiled.

And somehow, Ichigo knew it was fake. “Don't lie to yourself like that.”

“Heh?”

“I said don't lie. I know you think more of this than just a simple problem that can be solved by just ignoring it.”

“I—I'm okay, really.” Liar. “There's nothing wrong at all.” There is something wrong. “I am fine.” No, I'm not.

“Inoue . . .” His eyes looked solemn. “It's okay.”

His words seem to be a trigger to something that was caged within her. Something she had been suppressing for so long—the doubts, the implications, everything that lead up to what can only amount to the unanswered truth of her real lineage. She had always suspected it. No one in her family had her ghost-seeing `gift.' Now the doubts were proven and the reality that she tried so hard to keep intact was slowly crumbling to dust, as the boy in front of her eyed her with eyes full of knowing, understanding, and even worry.

She kicked back a sob, but the tears were slowly falling. “How did you know?”

How did you know I've been hiding this side of me? was the full question, but Ichigo knew, the same way he knew she had been wearing a happy mask whenever she was sad.

“I've always known you to be a big bundle of happiness,” Ichigo said, “but whenever I looked at your face, I felt as if that image was false. And I was right. Inoue, people don't normally accept this with just a shrug. I know you can't shrug off your worries either.”

She sobbed once. The tears dripped down her chin. “I've been always afraid, Kurosaki-kun,” she said. “I look nothing like my brother. And when he showed me pictures of our parents, I immediately saw their resemblance with Onii-chan, but . . . none with me.” She wrapped her arms around herself, her hands clasping on the edges of her shoulders. “I've always thought myself as Orihime Inoue, but maybe it had been a lie to begin with. Nobody in my family had a history of seeing ghosts, nor did they have the lineage of a shinigami that I know of. That means I'm . . . I'm . . .”

“Orihime Inoue,” Ichigo finished.

She bit her lip, fighting back more sobs, trying not to look so weak in front of the person she admired. Before she knew it, she felt a hand grab the top of her head in a comforting way that recalled memories of when her brother did the exact same thing whenever she was crying. “Kurosaki-kun, I . . . I . . .”

“It's okay.”

The words were replayed and she couldn't take it anymore. Throwing her shyness and control out the window, she hugged Ichigo with all her might. She needed more comfort as the dam broke within her, flooding her eyes with tears that had been unshed for so long that it almost seemed like Orihime would drown in it.

Minutes passed; she was still in his arms, crying silently from her worries. Her eyes burned and her cheeks were red with heat. She didn't know how long she'd been crying but she didn't care. The reality of seeing what her brother had become and the implications of her actual parentage joined together in her broken state. She needed release but doing so in front of Ichigo, and showing her weakness—though he already noticed his grief before she could say anything otherwise—was unsettling. But it was a good kind of unsettlement. She wouldn't want to replace that feeling for anything. Orihime only wanted the grief to pass and be embraced some more by him.

When her sobs were controlled, she felt Ichigo hug her tighter. “Thank you,” she whispered to him before, reluctantly, moving away from his grasp. She knew now that Ichigo had big, strong arms that fitted right against her petite frame.

“Better?” Ichigo asked, in which she nodded. She wiped away the extra tears before facing him again.

“I'm sorry you had to see that, Kurosaki-kun.”

“It's all right, Inoue.”

“About your question earlier . . .” She hesitated to say more, but also knew that things wouldn't go anywhere until she got this settled. “I'm still unsure about everything. If I think that I'm a descendant of a shinigami, I also think about the likelihood of me being an adopted child. Did my real parents leave me? Did they hate me? Did Onii-chan even know about what I was? Am I human? Am I a shinigami? Kurosaki-kun, I . . . I just don't know anymore.”

“You can get through this, Inoue.” She saw him slid his hands in his pockets, giving out the cool image normally found in the shoujo mangas she often read, and she couldn't keep her heart from beating faster. “But to be certain of that, you shouldn't get involved with me.”

“Heh?” Again, she was caught off guard, but this wasn't a question this time. It was a declaration and she could see the seriousness emanating from Ichigo's eyes; the ever-present scowl he had just amplified the effect it had on her.

“Even though you're now a shinigami for some reason, you should leave the duties to me.”

“But why?”

“I don't want to see you get hurt, if I can help it. Besides, I can handle things on my own.”

“Kurosaki-kun . . .”

“You don't need to get involved if you don't want to.”

Before Orihime could retort to that, the school bell rang, signifying the end of lunchtime.

“Let's get back to class,” Ichigo said as he turned away from Orihime, heading towards the roof's entrance door.

Orihime watched him walk away without giving her final say to what she was thinking. Perhaps Ichigo already thought that she would think otherwise to what he was proposing to her, and made sure that she would accept. Ichigo gave a valid point, and she was also unsure whether she can even handle the battles a shinigami must face. Looking at his back—slowly going away, slowly fading from her sight—she hesitated in calling for him. She somehow knew that talking to Ichigo about her decision wouldn't quiver the boy's attempts in keeping her away from the supposed harm. But what would that lead to, she asked herself. She gained these powers for a reason, and that was to save him from harm. Yet it seemed like Ichigo was the one who was doing the saving now. Sure, he was made for that role. But what about her? Where did her and her powers come into play once the curtain rises and the Hollows wreak havoc? She had these shinigami powers for a reason and to ignore that reason would be like ignoring a part of what she was, what she is, and what she will be.

No, even if Ichigo thought otherwise about her decision, she wouldn't back down on it. This was her decision, her fate, her birthright. Orihime believed that there is a purpose in everything, and understood that her newfound legacy had its own purpose. She wasn't completely sure what it was, but in time she would know.

The sun was close to setting as Ichigo packed up his things into his bag, and exited the school. Class was over. He wanted to talk to Orihime some more but crushed that train of thought quickly. He figured she might need some time to think things over. And besides, he didn't want to face her right now.

Ichigo sighed as he walked back to his home. After lunch, Orihime didn't speak to him for the rest of the day. Whenever he would look at her during class, she'd turn her head and face him—his brown eyes stared at her dazzling gray eyes—but quickly look away, too. It was understandable and he didn't blame her for that. He felt like shit, talking to Orihime like that as if she was some kind of damsel in distress. He saw what she could do last night—heck, she can wipe the floor with him as the mop if she wanted to—and the way she moved and took care of the Hollow were both far from the definition of being `damsel in distress.' So why did he say those things to her?

Ichigo asked himself that question all the way home. It was only when he reached his house's street did his mind thought back to last night. Her eyes turned brown. And when it was brown, Orihime looked dangerous, unpredictable, mysterious . . . and alluring. Banish that thought! Banish that thought!

Leaving—NO! BANISH IT!—those thoughts for now, Ichigo was mentally preparing himself for his father's usual antics once he opened the door to the Kurosaki house. He opened the door, expecting his father to be giving him a flying dropkick . . . but instead saw no one inside the living room. He then heard some noises coming from the clinic that was connected to the house.

Without anything better to do, he entered the clinic, and was greeted with her two sisters in nurse outfits. Not arousing at all, but it gave Ichigo the feeling that Yuzu and Karin were hard at work in nursing the patients.

“What happened?” Ichigo asked as Yuzu passed.

“There had been an accident just down the street,” Yuzu answered quickly. “I gotta go; welcome back, by the way, Onii-chan.”

Ichigo watched her walk away with the items she had been carrying, and thought about how he could help. He went and asked his dad—

“You're not properly trained for this, Ichigo. If you don't have anything else to say, then just wait `til I ask for you.”

—and got quickly rebuffed. Apparently, his father still remembered the disaster he caused when he last helped the clinic. Who knew that the guy could also hold grudges? Ichigo knew that he was a little clueless when it came to nursing or doctoring, but he still wanted to help people. But it looked like his father did not share the same sentiment, thinking that Ichigo would do more harm than good when he started `nursing' the patients. Ichigo still studied a bit on medicine, though.

As Ichigo wallowed in his uselessness at the corridor (the lines of sorrow and the depressive shadow were added for effect), Yuzu called for some help with a new patient at the entrance. Ichigo was about to come and help when his senses immediately went into danger mode.

He smelled the scent of a Hollow nearby.

But he also noticed that it was faint, as if the Hollow had shed its skin, leaving the residue to rot and be felt by him. He then remembered that Yuzu was asking for help with a patient that just arrived. He put two and two together, and realized that someone had been attacked by a Hollow. And whoever it was, Yuzu sounded frantic as she called for Dad, meaning that the attack must have caused some serious injuries. Wasting no more time, Ichigo rushed to aid his sister and the victim.

When he came to the clinic's genkan (a traditional Japanese entryway where people remove their shoes), he saw the bird cage and the familiar cockatiel inside it . . . and the victim—

Ichigo widened his eyes in disbelief.

Chad, looking unharmed, was carrying a bloodied Orihime into the clinic.