Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Ishida's Second Choice ❯ Chapter 4

Ishida’s Second Choice

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach, but no corporation can challenge the love and imagination of fans. We’re in it for the fun, not the bucks.

Description: Yes, due to popular request, I’m continuing this story. In this chapter, Orihime is recuperating and confused at the Urahara Shoten.

A/N: I’m not an A/U or "what if" writer but this story started out as a gift to a friend I knew would appreciate an IshiHime kiss happening early in the canon timeline. Now I can’t stop thinking about what a difference it would make if my favorite pair hooked up before the arrival of the Arrancar.

Warnings: PLEASE DO NOT READ FURTHER UNLESS YOU KNOW WHO ULQUIORRA AND YAMI ARE OR UNLESS YOU DON’T MIND BEING SPOILED FOR MANGA OR ANIME. This chapter is set sometime after the events of 195 and contains some references to teenage sex, although it does not contain the explicit detail of previous chapters.

Part Four

"Kurosaki-kun…"

Orihime’s own voice was what awakened her. She was mumbling the words "Kurosaki-kun."

The next sound she heard was a bright laugh. "She’s waking up, Kisuke. And she’s just fine, apparently. Dreaming about a boy."

The faces Orihime saw when she opened her eyes belonged to Yoruichi-san and Urahara-san.

"Do you feel any pain?" asked the shopkeeper.

"Oh no," Orihime said. "Not after Yoruichi-san gave me that medicine just before--oh!" Orihime’s mind flashed on the great power dissipating the cero fired at her and Yoruichi. Orihime had seen everything despite blood puddling in her left eye. "You saved us all, Urahara-san. Thank you so much."

"It’s all in the attitude," the shopkeeper said and smiled under his striped hat. "No, no, that’s not really it--the smaller fellow apparently had heard stories about me and Yoruichi-san. That’s why he scurried away like a little white laboratory mouse!" Urahara gestured playfully with his fan. "But I looked very handsome coming to save the day, ne? One should always back up attitude with a reputation. Unless that reputation is a scandalous one, of course." A tittering laugh and another wave of the fan. "And of course, one should only hide one’s weaknesses from an opponent."

"Is that remark meant for me?" Yoruichi punched the shopkeeper in the arm and then grabbed her own shoulder and grimaced. "Ite-e, I’m really hurt. Now that Tessai has taken care of the critical patients, would you tell him to work on me? I think blocking that big fellow may have … torn … something."

"You should have said so earlier," the shopkeeper chided and began to lead Yoruichi out of the room by her uninjured elbow. "I’ll return after this grand faker gets her arm looked at." Urahara looked over his shoulder at Orihime. "Stay still and don’t worry. Everyone’s alright."

The words were reassuring but Orihime did not feel reassured.

She reached out with her senses and felt the dread just behind the door.

"Kurosaki-kun…"

**

Ishida fell to his knees. He was beginning to believe that his father was full of crap and that there was no way that Quincy powers could be restored--or else Grandfather would have told that simple fact to his pupil. No, it was Ryuuken who had to be lying.

"You’re too slow," said Ryuuken.

"Of course," Ishida huffed. He rose, hands on knees, from the hard, silvery, spirit-synthesized floor. "I’m tired from dodging arrows. Are you trying to make me better at running away? If I’m going to be able to fight a Menos, I will need to summon a bow."

"Perhaps," Ryuuken said, "you will need to summon more resilience if you are going to last this training session."

Ishida stood and dropped his fingers on his hips. His chest was heaving. He knew he could leave right now; the door was not sealed and there was no way his father was coercing him to stay….

Other than with the promise that my powers will come back.

Ishida felt as if he had no other choice but to stay.

When first detecting the terrible power that was sucking Karakura souls, he had stood, stricken with dismay in his father’s office--and in the next moment, sensing the elegant, shimmering waves of Orihime’s reiatsu running towards the scene, he had felt his throat close with terror. A kind of terror he had never felt before and didn’t know existed-- even though a deep compassion for those threatened with violence had always informed his character. Had he made some sort of choking noise then? Ryuuken had given him an odd look, as if surprised at Ishida’s display of vulnerability. Then, never more miserably aware of his own helplessness, Ishida had willed, with every bit of life and power left in him to will, that Kurosaki save her, but Kurosaki had not--Kurosaki had not gotten there in time, and when Orihime was struck, Ishida had felt it like a blow to his own body.

Kurosaki did not save Orihime from getting hurt.

Sensing that she was still alive was all that had kept Ishida from picking up and tossing the nearest desk accessory in his father’s office. His hand had opened--his eye had caught sight of a big pretentious paperweight--

Maybe the famous Ishida family low blood pressure saved him from a raging tantrum?

Kurosaki did not save Orihime from getting hurt.

Ishida knew that he himself could not have stopped that monster’s hand from touching Orihime yesterday. He had no choice today, though, but to try to regain his powers. Kurosaki couldn’t be relied upon. The idiot had charged on the scene and had been knocked down. Ishida, although powerless, was still adept at distinguishing one reiatsu from another, and had plainly felt the Shinigami’s spirit staggering among the dead and injured.

Weak, helpless, stupid--Ishida’s mind had called Kurosaki these things even while understanding that, on some level, he was really raging against himself.

Damn you, Kurosaki. If Orihime had been among the dead, Ishida would still want his Quincy powers back…if only to kill Kurosaki.

He lifted his head and dropped his arms to his sides. He didn’t completely trust Ryuuken, but he wasn’t about to give up either.

"I’m not going to slow the rate at which I’m shooting at you," said Ryuuken, "merely because you’ve run out of breath."

Ishida’s lungs filled again.

Again, he leapt and dodged another arrow.

**

The Kurosaki Ichigo behind the door was not the one who Orihime had sensed on the battlefield. That Kurosaki had been … different, so threatening.

This Kurosaki was just shy about entering her room.

There was a knock, and then that rough voice. "Inoue? Urahara-san said--"

"It’s ok, Kurosaki-kun. You can come in."

Orihime was sure she looked frightful. Her arm was in a cast and there a patch and bandage over her left eye. The last time Tessai-san had changed the dressing, there had been so much blood, but maybe now--

Kurosaki’s eyes told her that she didn’t nauseate him at least. He seemed concerned.

"How are you feeling?" He was looking at the bed covers so as not to look at Orihime’s wounds or pajamas.

"I’m fine now," Orihime said brightly. "Isn’t Tessai-san wonderful? Aren’t all the people here at Urahara Shoten wonderful? You look like you got all fixed up too! How do you feel? I’m sure you feel fine because you weren’t even as beaten up as I was, and I feel fine--"

"Inoue," Kurosaki interrupted. "When I was fighting yesterday, my ban kai--the reiatsu you must have sensed in Soul Society when I was fighting Byakuya. Was there…?" Kurosaki was struggling to keep his expression casual. "Was there anything different about it? I mean, did my spirit power change from when you sensed it in Soul Society? I know you’re better about detecting these things than I am."

He lifted his eyes to meet Orihime’s, and she saw a tiny hope there, lots of sadness and anxiety but also the expectation that maybe just maybe Orihime could reveal that whatever had been fighting out there in place of Kurosaki yesterday wasn’t … so dark and wrong.

"No, it was different," Orihime said. "Your reiatsu smelled totally different."

Kurosaki dropped his gaze to the floor.

"What’s going on, Kurosaki-kun?"

"I’m not sure, Inoue. I’m going back home now."

As soon as he closed the door, Orihime felt her smile fall. She had been forcing it for his sake. She didn’t want Kurosaki-kun to think that she was hurting or depressed and that he was in any way responsible. As it was, she had never seen him look so guilty and vulnerable before.

He smells a little different now, Orihime thought, but not as scary as the way he smelled against those strange soul-sucking beings. She did not know what to make of this information. She had always been able to sense Kurosaki from miles away. She could smell him now, as he walked despondently out of the Urahara Shoten. There was a strange, wrong thing growing inside Kurosaki-kun, and the way her senses responded--bristling with confusion--to that reiatsu worried her immensely.

What worried her more, though, was that she could not detect Ishida’s reiatsu at all.

**

Ishida lay face down on the silvery floor. Ryuuken had long ago walked away, and Ishida was feeling failure as cold as the ground against his exhausted limbs.

What is supposed to happen? That a combination of tiredness and determination to overcome feeling this awful wakes up some Quincy pride and my powers return just like that?

Ishida raised himself on his elbows and dropped his face into his hands.

My father hates me. He’s just doing this to … humiliate me. My powers are not coming back.

Still, Ishida could not help but wonder if his obsession with Orihime was what was holding him back. He had been in her arms only yesterday. He had been startled into love only yesterday. How could he become a destroyer again if all he really wanted to do was fall into her tenderness, her kisses, her skin softer than the most expensive swathes of silk in fabric stores….

Orihime.

He wanted to say the word aloud--Orihime. In a moony, forlorn way that would embarrass him even if no one was near. Orihime. Where are you?

He could sense her through the spirit-synthesized walls. Somewhere in the presence of Kurosaki and other deficient, inept Shinigami. Not safe.

Ishida sat up. There was a shower here, and the sparest of supplies. Ryuuken had ordered his son to eat "all the rice you can stomach" last night, so at least Ryuuken wasn’t trying to kill him. No one could be expected to train and starve.

Still, Ishida could not shake the suspicion that his father was keeping him merely to torment and humiliate.

Was he really choosing this bizarre denigration over going back to his girlfriend?

Somehow, Ishida knew, that even if he went back for only this one night, even with the intention of missing school again the next morning and then reporting to Ryuuken for this obscene "training," that he would not be able to leave Orihime again.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to remember fully that overwhelming soaring peace that was Orihime. How he could he make her his second choice night after night? How could he leave her tenderness and return to his father’s severity as if the training was what was truly more important? Not to mention--if he saw Orihime these nights, he would be exhausted before daybreak’s training with Ryuuken even began!

She doesn’t think I’ve left her, does she? She knows I was going to train with Ryuuken. She has to know that I’m doing this for her.

A telephone? Maybe this place had telepathic communication device of some sort. The technology behind the spirit-synthesized, reiatsu-masking building certainly seemed amazing, beyond anything his grandfather had ever described the Quincy being capable of. If I could just tell her….

Ishida knew that no one was supposed to be able to detect his reiatsu here. Yet he could detect Orihime’s and Kurosaki’s so maybe ….

Orihime had such remarkable detection skills. He had witnessed them in Soul Society. But…. Ishida remembered her kneeling at Rukia’s execution site and confirming the strange new power there. She can only sense Kurosaki wherever he is.

I don’t think she can sense me.

**

The morning that the five Shinigami arrived at Karakura High, Ishida did not feel any less anxious about Orihime’s safety. If anything, the mere presence of Shinigami in the area--and five Shinigami, one a captain no less!--meant that the threat to the area was severe.

Ryuuken detected the Shinigami too and seemed even harder on his son that day.

After dinner and Ryuuken’s cold insistence that his son eat even more rice and drink even more water, there was another training session. Ishida’s feet were sore and his senses were alert for foreign reiatsu. It would be hard to concentrate if he kept worrying about Orihime, so he tried not to think about her. Then whenever his efforts were most focused on escaping his father’s arrows and on surviving this grueling trial, an image of her would surface: Orihime, lying somewhere, wounded and dispirited, that silky skin broken, her head and maybe arm bandaged, her beautiful hair spread across a pillow and Kurosaki near--

But it was all Kurosaki’s fault that she was hurt because the fool Shinigami got there a second too late!

"Uryuu," Ryuuken would say. "You’re soft. You have no spirit." And he would blast a blue-white arrow at his son’s feet.

Orihime, meanwhile, had gone to bed early that evening only to be awakened by Matsumoto Rangiku asking for a place to stay. The sight of the beautiful vice captain had caused Orihime to let out a little whimper of disappointment--she had hoped it was Uryuu at the door. Then, right away, she had put on her cheery face and started babbling about how wonderful it was to have company, that living alone was dreary, that Rangiku-san should have some ice cream--it tasted very good with pumpkin and soy sauce but Rangiku-san could eat it plain because Orihime had a new, unopened carton that was as yet "un-flavored!"

Rangiku had not been fooled. From the bathroom where the vice captain had decided to take a steaming soak in the tub, she kept calling to Orihime: "You seem stressed. Come in here with me! You have to relax, Orihime-chan, because worrying never helped anyone."

Orihime sat on the floor outside the bathroom and felt her bare toes curl. "I’m--I’m just tired."

There was a long pause, during which Orihime heard nothing but water sloshing from the faucet.

"Orihime-chan," said Rangiku. Her voice was so warm and womanly. "You can talk to me. You seemed so happy when Rukia cheered up Ichigo, but now you seem worried about him again--is that it?"

"Oh no!" Orihime hugged her knees and wondered if she should tell. I was worried about Kurosaki-kun, yes, but Kuchiki-san was able to set him right in just a moment! It was amazing to watch. It was so touching. And I only wish…."

"What?"

"That I could be more like Kuchiki-san and Yoruichi-san and … you. Sometimes I don’t think I know what it’s like to be a proper girl with super powers at all. I’m not strong enough. I--I can’t keep up with the fighting, and I’m just a nuisance, and maybe that’s why… that’s why…"

There was a drip-drip sound, and Orihime looked up to see Rangiku standing over her in all her glistening nudity, a super-woman if there ever was one. Orihime was profoundly intimidated until--

Rangiku pounced on her and started tickling. "You silly, silly girl! I know what it is! I know! Don’t you think I didn’t see it in Soul Society? You’ve got a mad crush on Ichigo, and he’s a clueless, clueless boy!"

Orihime lungs were about to burst--not because she felt tickled, but because no one had ever laid such soft hands on her belly before except for Uryuu, and the memory was going to make her cry. "Stop!" she panted. "Please stop, Rangiku-san! That’s not it! I used to have a crush on Ichigo, but I don’t anymore."

Rangiku stopped tickling her and looked into Orihime’s eyes. Orihime felt her eyes brimming with tears. She pushed her shirt back down to her waist and shook her head, her hair dripping with wetness from Rangiku’s bath.

"I know that look," Rangiku said. "What are you blaming yourself for? What could a girl like you have possibly done wrong?"

How could Orihime explain it? There had to be a reason why Uryuu wasn’t here. He wasn’t dead--no, that wasn’t it. She was sure that if his spirit had left this world, she would have felt it, but she had expected to hear from him by now. Had he gone so far away that she could not sense his reiatsu? She was aching to touch him again, so why wasn’t he here? Here, back in her arms?

Orihime dropped her head against Rangiku’s wet shoulder and sobbed.

"Sweetie!" Rangiku patted Orihime’s head. "You didn’t do anything wrong. Ichigo needs a kick in the head sometimes more than he needs a loving word. Rukia was just able to give him the right thing at the right time is all. Ichigo is young, and he needs you just as much as he needs Rukia. You support him--you support us all--you are a very, very impor--"

"It’s not Ichigo," said Orihime, lifting her head and feeling a little aggravated with the naked vice captain at the moment. "It’s Ishida-kun."

The Shinigami’s eyes became big and round as her breasts. "The Quincy?"

Orihime nodded, still hiccuping from tiny sobs.

"The Quincy!" Rangiku fingered the pendant she wore at her throat. Orihime idly wondered why she had not taken it off before the bath, and then Rangiku put two wet hands on Orihime’s shoulders. "Did he hurt you?" she asked in all seriousness. "Did he--?"

"No! No!" Orihime didn’t know how to explain it. "It was only a couple days ago. We kissed and we did… other things." Orihime flushed at the memory of Uryuu’s mouth between her legs, the milky softness of his thighs when they pressed against her cheeks, how protective he was, how mature and reassuring… "It all seemed so right," Orihime continued. "And then he left, and I don’t know where he is."

The sadness in Rangiku’s eyes was unexpected. "Here," she said, talking Orihime’s hand and pulling them both to a standing position. "Let me get dressed and we’ll have that food you offered. Pumpkin with ice cream sounds like it might be very tasty!"

"Really?"

Rangiku smiled. "It’s good to be brave and try something you’ve never done before, Orihime-chan. That’s how you learn about life!"

Loving Uryuu is certainly as very new thing. As Orihime looked for her nicest ceramic bowls in the cupboard, and Rangiku, stark naked and still dripping, wandered about the tiny apartment inspecting various modern curiosities, Orihime wondered: Is he afraid of the newness? Is that’s why he’s not here?

She decided not to think about it and shook the soy sauce bottle in her hand.

End

A/N: This was an irresistible chapter to write. I want to re-write the infamous 213 Orihime angst panels in this story, but I’m not sure I shouldn’t delay this story to see how Ishida gets his powers back in the manga. Anything I invent at this point would be lame compared to what Kubo-sensei shows, I’m sure.

Missing my Bleach chapter this week! dchan, 2.27.06

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