Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ She Will Be Loved ❯ Chapter 16 ( Chapter 16 )

She Will Be Loved

 

By Tituba

 

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

 

(A/N: This chapter is for jazzjackrabbit, gokusgirl, 07janina07, Bastion, Nowshin, sheastarr334, and akirk85029, for all their loyal reviews! Love you guys!

I think everyone's been pretty much waiting for this chapter.

So, tell me what you think.

Tituba.)

 

 

 

 

Chapter 16

 

The music was loud. The people were boisterous. The punch was bad. The DJ was even worse. The company was nonexistent. Orihime was having a great time. Ichigo was having the worst night of his life.

 

“Ichigo!” Orihime cried when she opened the door to her home. “You look so handsome!”

 

He shifted on his feet uncomfortably and looked up at his date, his girlfriend, Orihime. She was wearing a dress that was extremely pink. It puffed out around her hips and fell in yards of tulle around her feet. She was wearing a bodice that constricted her middle tightly. It was decorated with lace and bows. Her neckline was cut short and her cleavage showed enormously. Short sleeves were connected to the bodice; they were puffy as well and stood up at least three inches above her actual arms. She was smiling broadly and her long hair was pulled up into a fabulously elaborate style, rings and rolls of hair were threaded with rhinestones and fake flowers. There was even glitter on her face.

 

“You look…” Ichigo began, his voice a little tough, “Nice.” He wanted to say eccentric, but he doubted she would like it.

 

“Thanks Ichi!” She giggled before coming towards him and grabbing his hand. She pulled him towards her street where the limo he rented sat in silence. “We're going to pick up Chad, Ishida, Keigo, and their dates, aren't we?”

 

Ichigo nodded, even though he had no idea who the guys were going with. They might have told him once but he didn't listen. Orihime didn't seem to mind as they walked towards the stretched car. She got in and continued talking as the driver pulled out and drove towards Ishida's street.

 

All Ichigo could do was look out the window and sigh.

 

Ichigo was standing near the snack table, mindlessly grazing different types of cheese cubes and chips. A cup of watery punch was in his hand and he sipped from it occasionally.

 

The music continued to pound on relentlessly and Ichigo scowled. It was all rap and hip hop music that had no basic meaning. He grunted and shook his head. He knew that Rukia hated music like this. She used to go on rants about how morally demeaning it was to women and other minorities. She also used to—

 

Ichigo stuffed another cheese cube into his mouth and told himself not to think about her. The lump of cheddar turned to lead as he swallowed it. Damn but it was hard not to.

 

She was the only thing he had thought about for the past two weeks. She was on his mind constantly. She was the last thing he thought about when he went to bed and the first thing he thought of in the morning. She was his reflection in the mirror. She was the person guiding his hand when he wrote his assignments for school. She was the person he always saw out of the corner of his eye. She was the ghost in his mind. She was the one who was with him everyday. She was Orihime during the desperate times when he needed her to be.

 

Ichigo softly closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift.

 

It was not Orihime he had taken to Homecoming, it was Rukia. He had been dating her for the past year and a half. They were boisterous together and always had a good time. She was always there to do the homework and he always copied it from her. They would spend countless hours alone in her room. He would kiss her tender lips and weave his tongue inside her gorgeous mouth. His fingers would run over her snowy white skin and he would make her feel cherished. He would hold her just because he felt like it and tell her that he loved her every single minute of every single day because he loved her…

 

He loved her.

 

He loved her… Rukia Kuchiki, he was in love with her.

 

Ichigo pressed a hand to his forehead. It was blazing hot.

 

Why was this making his insides curl? Why was this making his lungs constrict horribly? Why was this making him feel like he needed to empty his stomach into the nearest waste bin?

 

Yet… why did this make him want to run around and shout? Why was this make his body buzz with feverish happiness? Why did… why…?

 

He loved her. He loved her so much and he wanted to be with her forever.

 

Pain swept into his lower stomach and he had to bend over slightly to alleviate it. But she would never… never…

 

“Ichigo… I love you. I've always loved you, I think that I've been in love with you since the first moment I realized what love was.”

 

From the first moment. She had known that long and he had only just figured it out. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been. He couldn't believe how stupid he was being. How long had she been waiting for him? How long had she been wondering if he would ever fight with her one moment then kiss her the next?

 

“Ichigo, I need you and I want you.”

 

He had needed her. He had wanted her. He had gotten her. He remembered that first time they were together. It was like he had been possessed. One moment he was doing his homework and the next he was wailing inside, dying to have any contact with human flesh. The hole his mother had left had been enormous. He had needed to close that gap, or at least lessen it. During the act it seemed like he had not been inside of his body. It was as if he looked at himself from the outside. He hadn't even allowed her the same pleasure. And afterwards… Ichigo pressed a cool hand to his burning face, no doubt he made her feel like a whore. He just left and did not say a word.

 

He didn't even kiss her.

 

“I'm in love with you. That'll never change Ichigo.”

 

He wanted to kiss her now. He wanted to feel her silky soft lips against his. He wanted to slowly press her against the soft carpet of her room and pull her smooth hair through the gaps in his hands. He wanted to open her mouth softly and hear her moan. He wanted to slide his tongue delicately over hers until he could feel nothing but her… only her. The world would dissolve completely. The two of them would be left. She would sigh and whisper his name when he allowed them to come up for air. He would kiss every part of her face and neck.

 

But he wouldn't go lower than that. No. He wouldn't slide off her clothes and take her. No… he wouldn't do that until she told him to. He wouldn't do that even if he was desperate with desire for her.

 

He loved her. He needed to show her.

 

He would change. He would adore her. He would make her feel cherished. He would make up for everything that he had ever done. He would become worthy of her affections and of her love. He would do everything in his power to give her freedom. He would not make her feel trapped in a loveless relationship. He would apologize everyday for things he had done wrong in the past and those he would do in the future.

 

But most of all… most precious of all… he would love her and hold her so close to his heart that nothing—not distance or fate or even death—could draw them apart.

 

“Ichigo! Ichi! Oh Ichi!”

 

He finally looked up. His eyes were half-glazed but he seemed to be seeing everything in a newer, clearer, and brighter light.

 

Orihime ran over to him, her pink dress swishing against the darkly illuminated floor. A few bright lights from the disco ball at the top threw themselves on her attire. Blue, green, and orange sparkled over her and she giggled. She twirled around once and let her fingers run over the lights sparkling down on her. When she was finished she ran over to her boyfriend.

 

“Ichigo!” She cried again, her face was pink with the exertions from the dance floor. She had been in a circle of girls who were simply dancing together for fun. Ichigo had looked at the group earlier and saw that their dates stood over by the corner, talking together while the girls danced.

 

How can they do that? Ichigo wondered. If they really love the people they're with then why would they want to be separated?

 

Orihime didn't seem to notice anything amiss though. She simply smiled at him and cocked her head to the side. “Are you having a good time?”

 

Ichigo didn't answer, he knew that Orihime didn't want an answer, she wanted a lie. She wanted him to tell her that everything was perfectly fine, that he worshipped her, that she was pretty, and that she was the love of his life. But she wasn't any of those. He wasn't fine and she wasn't the love of his life. He loved someone else.

 

She was tugging on his arm, trying to coax him out onto the dance floor. “Come on Ichigo! Let's dance.”

 

“Orihime,” he said as softly as he could with the music pounding as loud as it was. He did not, however, allow her to pull him forward. She must have heard her name but she continued her soft yanks and did look back at him.

 

“Ichigo!” Her voice came out as a loud whine above the music. “Let's go! I like this song a lot!”

 

“Orihime,” he said again, this time with more force, she stopped talking and looked around. There was a strange stare in her eyes. Ichigo swallowed and began to pull her away from the dance floor, the tables carefully arranged by the Homecoming committee, and the snack bars. She followed him silently—a first for her—towards the doors leading to the relatively quiet hallway. The fabric of his tuxedo crinkled lightly and the tulle in her dress swished as they closed, air blew on them but at least they were able to hear each other.

 

He swallowed hard and turned away from her. He didn't know why, but he just couldn't look at her right now. He ran a hand through his hair nervously and drew in another breath. Breathing was getting harder right now. Damn, he didn't know this would be so hard. He didn't love Orihime but he didn't hate her either. She was just… vapid. She didn't understand him or accept him wholly for who he was. Rukia did, Rukia loved him for who he was inside and out. She didn't want him to stop scowling or to stop using foul language or to always hug her when they entered a room or eat foods that had weird things inside of them. She loved him… she loved him she loved him she loved him.

 

“Orihime…” he murmured.

 

“Ichigo… don't bother.”

 

He frowned and turned completely around, his tense body facing hers.

 

Orihime had her arms crossed underneath her generous breasts and her head was turned to the side, there was a… cold look in her eyes. Cold was something that Ichigo never saw inside her gray irises.

 

It was the first time since he had been going out with her he looked at her with bewilderment and surprise. “What?” He asked her, his voice was quiet and nearly nonexistent.

 

She turned towards him and narrowed her eyes fractionally. “I said `don't bother.'”

 

He frowned at her and took a small step forward. “What's that supposed to mean?”

 

She looked away, “It means, Ichigo, if you're going to dump me then dump me already. Don't drag it out. Just hurry up so you can go be with your precious Rukia.”

 

Ichigo's eyes narrowed into a warning frown. “Orihime…”

 

“Just say it Ichigo!” She burst, throwing her arms up into the air. Her eyes were angry but not hurt. She began to pace back and forth. Three steps, turn, three steps, turn. All the while she was staring at the ground. “You're so transparent. I know you like her more than you like me.”

 

Ichigo swallowed and felt his jaw clench tight.

 

She turned towards him and narrowed her eyes. “You know, I liked you even before I grew into my own skin. I hated the fact that you and Rukia were so close.”

 

Step, step, step, and turn. “Then your mom died. I saw how you were after that and I wanted to comfort you.” She turned to him and came to stand in front of his face. “I don't know why you and Rukia went so far apart afterwards but I do know that you came to me, and that was all that really mattered.”

 

“Orihime,” Ichigo's voice was strangled and hard.

 

“But these past few weeks everything's been Rukia, Rukia, and more Rukia. I mean, I get she lost her sister, and I feel sorry for her, I really do, but come on.” She sighed and resumed her pacing. “You began to drift towards her… again. I hated—I hate—it.” She stopped before him and crossed her arms across her chest once again. She glared at the floor and shuffled her feet underneath her dress. “But I bet she hated it whenever I kissed your cheek or hugged you or held onto your arm.”

 

Ichigo's eyes narrowed and sparked in a sudden wave of anger. “That's horrible, Orihime.”

 

“Yeah well,” she muttered, still staring down at the floor. “So was how you two had your own little world. I was always the outsider.”

 

Ichigo took a step away from her and shook his head. “I'm sorry for that, but honestly Orihime, sometimes… life can't be all about what you want.”

 

I should know, Ichigo thought as she looked up at him, her cheeks were red with anger and frustration, trust me Orihime, I know from personal experience. I nearly lost the woman I loved because of it.

 

“You hate me now.” Orihime muttered, turning around swiftly, her skirts bunching out in dramatic flair. Her shoulders were hunched in such a vulnerable way. Ichigo knew this pose and this stance… she wanted someone to come over to her, hug her from behind, whisper sweet nothings into her ear while she graced them with her forgiveness.

 

“No Orihime,” he said coldly, “I just don't like you. And honestly, I don't think I ever did.”

 

She gasped and her spine straightened automatically. She twirled around and he saw that her mouth was agape, her eyes were open wide, and an expression of disbelief was written all over her face.

 

“B-But you picked me! You did!” She told him, her pretty gray gaze was filled with a type of assertiveness he had barely seen before. She crossed her arms under her large breasts and frowned defiantly, “You must have liked me or else you wouldn't have dated me for so long.”

 

He looked away and tried to stare at something inconspicuous. The lockers that filled the hallway were lined and dark in the depressingly shaded hallway. Their shiny plaques were a rusty shade of copper and the dents and holes punched into them after countless years of use were more pronounced. It helped to calm him, it helped to keep his mind blank and focused on what he truly wanted to do tonight, where he wanted to go, who he wanted to see. It made him forget a little about the conversation he was having.

 

“Orihime,” he said after a few moments, she was waiting for him to speak, tapping her foot impatiently underneath the yards of plushy fabric that comprised her dress, she flexed her fingers on her arms, and occasionally let her bottom lip tremble theatrically.

 

Ichigo shrugged his shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. “You were… you were just there. You were always there. You always… I don't know… you always liked me and even worshipped me. It made me feel normal, I guess… just having you there. I was just a normal guy with a normal girlfriend in a normal relationship. You were someone who only saw what was on the outside and wouldn't bother to look in. You only saw the façade because that's all you ever wanted to see. It was all superficial, it was all just an act. But she… she sees everything underneath.” He paused and didn't say anything else. Orihime knew to whom he was referring. Her shocked posture and frozen expression told him so.

 

Ichigo shook his head at her and turned away, his long legs finally carrying him towards the doors, “Go back inside and enjoy the dance Orihime, party with your friends, find yourself a new guy… I don't care. Just consider us over… for good.”

 

He heard a startled and gargled gasp but he didn't turn around. He pushed through the doors of the school and walked out into the cool, late October night. The air was crisp and smelled like apple cider and fallen leaves. He inclined his head back and glanced up into the sky, a few clouds were obstructing his view but not many. He could see a few spattering of stars streaking across the sky. The real meteor shower hadn't started yet. He turned his head back and looked down at his watch. It was almost ten thirty.

 

He quickly strode over to the limousine and opened the door. He slid inside and told the driver to go to the park as quickly as he could. The engine hummed to life and Ichigo nervously turned to look out the window. He could see more stars dashing across the sky. He sighed and closed his eyes.

 

“Rukia…”