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Heat Of The Night	By : AlmaGemela Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female Views: 8350 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Since my driver's license does NOT say Kubo Noriaki, I do not own BLEACH. The only thing being made from this fanfiction is a hobby. But please enjoy!

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, nothing is mine, so please no sue.

A/N: I almost feel like this piece is turning into a challenge of 'places to shag,' aside from the actual plot. We've covered the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom…

In chapter 9, we'll entertain doing it against a wall and later on in a garden; if not in chapter 10 then the next. I have also discovered from his profile page that Byakuya is fond of bananas…Oh, the joys of possibility!

I would welcome any further suggestions, dear readers!

Outwardly, Orihime exuded an appearance of befuddled calm. Within, however, she felt as though her skin were the only thing keeping her from going everywhere at once. A veritable ocean of emotions and thoughts heaved and roiled violently inside.

Shock from being discovered, confusion as to how she ought to react, fear portending to the future and what repercussions this could possibly have on herself….on Kuchiki Byakuya…

Screwed…We're screwed…

She nervously chirped out a hollow laugh at the ill-chosen expression her mind had latched on to. Simultaneously, she was trying and failing to both guise her anxiety regarding the whole situation. "…Eh he he…" The urge to lie, to paint the truth as anything than what it really was, died upon her lips as the Third Seat of the Rokubantai regarded her with sharp eyes. Unable to diffuse the tension, she plowed bravely on.

"Eh…so we're busted." She took a bracing sip of her juice, swirling the contents as her thoughts began to steadily organize into an explanation. It was best she put all her cards on the table, lest she seem duplicitous. "…Not that we were really trying to hide anything…It didn't initially start out as anything. It just sort of….happened."

"What would 'it' be regarding…?" She eyed him. Was that a note of amusement she detected…? Either he found her current predicament a bit humorous, or he was attempting to act charismatic to put her at ease. Both possibilities annoyed her, as it implied that he thought of her as a child. Considering what she had recently been through, being thought of as such felt a tad insulting.

"The 'relationship' between myself and Kuchiki-Taicho, as you so put it."

"What else, pray tell, would you describe something between two people? Even a friendship is a type of relationship." She leaned back in her chair, fighting the urge to narrow her eyes or cross her arms. You want to act condescending? Fine.

"True, they're both 'ships'. And ships require more than one person to crew them, to work together in order to maintain their course. With 'friendships,' the destination is typically simple, and the best ones take you to where you want to be. Which is a better place. But other kinds, such as 'romantic relationships,' often chart a more precise course for their destination: intimacy, children, and marriage to name a few.

However, as for myself and Kuchiki Taicho, we have no set course. There is, and never was, a set destination in mind. You want to know more about the relationship between myself and Kuchiki-Taicho? My motivation? So do I. We've only just begun. It may be about to end. I'm not sure. I don't even think he may be sure.

I can only tell you this for certain: the consequences of our choices will affect us before they affect anyone else. We have to get further out to sea in order to discern if our ship will collide with any others, but we may never leave port in order to figure that bit out." Shrugging, she took another swig of juice, polishing off the bottle. A corner of her soft smile definitely came from a feeling of smugness as he puzzled out her metaphorical elucidation.

Ritsu was at a momentary loss for words. He had thought to tease her so that she would extrapolate, but had been thoroughly chastised by her spiel. Through unique means of explanation, no less. There was an odd logic to it that had indeed answered his initial query. One thing was also abundantly clear: she had no idea what they were getting themselves into.

Given the sharpness of her wit, it was obvious the girl possessed more virtues than simply her curves or ready smiles. He felt humbled by this speculation, and realized Inoue-san was best not to be underestimated in future.

"I think, Inoue-san," he murmured softly, drawing her attention from her own self-satisfaction, " that you ought to pay my Elders a visit…" Her eyebrows knit in confusion and her mouth fell open.

"Wha—? Why?!" He held up his palm, forestalling her protests before he could fully enlighten her to his reasoning.

"Being 28th Head of House Kuchiki, as well as being Taicho of the Rokubantai of the Juusantai, Kuchiki Byakuya does not merely lead a life of his own. As such, there are certain responsibilities and expectations he must live up to…."

"Well, yeah….I get that, Kuchiki-san. But I fail to see how—"

"A dalliance on his part can never simply be that," he interrupted hastily, "however this plays out, you are of an interest to Them. Especially as the last woman to garner his attention became his late wife. Being involved with him, you are now involved with the clan. Please believe me that this is necessary, and in the best interests of you both."

"…I get out of school next week," she replied dully, feeling as though she were being hijacked by the situation, "for the summer holidays…" He nodded, making calculations within his head.

"I see…I shall arrange for a Senkaimon and an audience with the Clan Elders around that time." He arose, pushing in his chair as he regarded the suddenly lost looking young woman before him. "I will be in touch. Take care, Inoue-san."

"Bye…" Orihime replied softly. She ought not have bothered; he was there and gone. A faint essence remained of his reiastu, shimmering like the ghost of a mirage left by the summer heat. She was left to simmer in silence, a vacant juice bottle set before her. She felt as empty as it looked, her feelings once again tumultuous and buried beneath the surface. This…doesn't bode well.

The days stretched slowly by, much like a cat cathartically awakening from a nap. At first, there had been a comforting rhythm to it. However, as the appointed date of departure drew nearer, Orhime began to feel less like herself. And, though she tried her best to conceal it, she suspected her friends had begun to deduce something was amiss as well. Her smiles had waned into an empty ritual while her mind whirled away on its hamster wheel, hidden by her care-free facade.

She worried and fretted, anxiously agonizing over which of her kimono and obi from her humble collection ought to be worn. She owned two of the former, and three of the latter, so there was minimal variety to choose from in order to make a suitable impression.

She had little doubt that nothing would really come from meeting the Kuchiki Elders. She had realistic expectations. If anything, she suspected that this charade of a meeting was meant to simultaneously intimidate her into ending the relationship and persuade their Head of House to seriously consider marriage with another lady of noble birth.

Hisana, after all, had long since passed. An heir for the clan as the next eventual Head of House was long since overdue. Byakuya's ability to partake in…carnal relations…was likely proof enough to his clan that his heart was past mourning his first wife.

Still…as much as she tried to convince herself of these forgone conclusions, that didn't mean her heart was entirely on the same page as her head. Whenever she felt herself entertaining the idea that maybe, just maybe, Byakuya Kuchiki might feel something special beyond the initial contamination that had led him to her bed…she had to bite her cheek or mentally slap herself for good measure.

All the while, as she fought to keep idle thoughts at bay, she was forced to put on a show for her friends: to falsely laugh at their petty shenanigans and meaningless little jokes. Orhime felt like a paperclip: bent while striving to keep things organized and together, while the twisted metal stretched and pulled with the telltale signs of breaking.

Perhaps that was why now, during the last ten or so minutes of class, she was still obsessing over which kimono and obi she ought to wear. The mundane simplicity of the task was in itself a semblance of control, even as she tried to beat her subconscious into submission.

Things were going to end…but she wanted them to end on her terms. As though the colors and patterns of the cloth adorning her body might lend a better argument for her fair treatment in the upcoming confrontation. She'd made a series of rash decisions of late, but perhaps she could better handle the aftermath so long as she began to make the right choices. Beginning with small preferences and selections, and building up to once pertaining to reality from there.

One kimono was a delicious array of hexagonal patterns in golden oranges and crimson reds, with threaded yellow and pale green woven into the fabric. The other was a sedate damask plum with azure blossoms patterning the hemlines. She would prefer the more demure of the two, considering what she would face, but for one looming detail…

"…..Isn't that right Inoue-chan?" She snapped her attention to Keigo Asano, who had been speaking. He had been making idle jests, as per usual, keeping his voice down so as not to drawn attention of Ochi-Sensei. But today she found them wearying.

"Sorry, Asano-kun. I didn't catch that." She smiled, feeling her face ache at the effort. He didn't seem to notice. Hardly fazed, he began again.

"I was just sayin'—"She interrupted his reiteration, his voice grating upon her nerves as she snapped testily.

"Not right now, Asano-kun. I'm trying to listen to Ochi-Sensei." His eyes rounded, as did a few of their peers as they caught her sharply spoken words. This was the closest any had heard from her akin to annoyance or anger. For a moment, she felt flushed with shame. However, it was soon washed away as she determinedly faced the front of the classroom. Why should it be strange for her to show her temper once in a while? It was only nature to have such emotions…Heaven forbid I act upon them once in a while…She bit her lip, not entirely without remorse for Keigo's obviously hurt feelings. He was staring at her like a kicked puppy, and she was the subject of more than one person's gawping.

Tatsuki looked tinged with worry, as did Ichigo. His customary scowl was twisted into a sort of perplexed concern. Uryu looked contemplative, as though she were a puzzle to solve. There were others among her friends and close acquaintances staring. She was sure of it. But they were out of her immediate line of sight, and she determinedly looked straight ahead. She had no desire to seek out their accusing gazes.

It made her feel vulnerable. And truth be told, angry. She ignored Tatsuki's reproachful look, her thoughts briefly resuming their course. I…I can't wear the azure kimono…because the blue matches HIS eyes…She feared what such an observation meant; to herself, to any who might observe the same. Was she feeling more toward him than she ought to? Their relationship was a strange, indiscernible thing. More physical than anything else. A mere accident born as a result of an unnatural aphrodisiac, poor timing, and impulsive actions.

"Here are your assignments!" She was startled from her trail of thought once again as her peer seated before her crisply thrust a handful of papers over his shoulder, meaning for her to take it. She did so, cautiously seeking out the drawing that had vexed her so the previous week, before passing the rest on to the student seated behind her.

In the end, she had hardly used any colors outside of a certain palette. The hues chosen to color her 'true self' had ranged from black and cobalt gray to brief traces of rich plum. The last shade had been used sparingly, at best. Orihime found her attention waning upon the words of her instructor as her eyes traced over that which she had drawn: herself with a yukata intimately falling from her shoulders as she stretched out before a window.

The pearl-white under-yukata kept any and all suggestive flesh covered, though the sensuality remained as the outer, darker one practically dripped off of her curves. Her arms were folded upon the sill, gazing longingly into the night at the stars beyond. She had never drawn herself looking so serious, nor with such an expression of yearning.

"…I'd have returned them to you sooner, but things got a little crazy. And any way, I figured today would be the perfect opportunity to give those who might need a second chance to redo the assignment." There was a chorus of groans from the class, during which Orihime quickly glanced up at Ochi-Sensei. There was no doubt about it, as her instructor's eyes flickered briefly toward her own. That comment was partially meant for her.

She felt as though she had swallowed a stone as Ochi-Sensei continued, unabated. At the same time, she flipped over the drawing, taking in her poor score and the accompanying scrawl: an explanation for her grade.

"You have all break, so don't stress over it too much. The scores, along with the critical comments you received, should be enough to indicate whether or not you ought to redo the assignment and how you may improve your score. In any case, I expect the very best when I get it back on the first day of next term." As if in agreement, the gentle knells of the recorded bells on the school intercom chimed, ending class for summer break.

As quickly as she could, Orihime hastily thrust the once beautiful drawing into her abused knapsack, launching out of her seat and practically running for the door. If they asked, she would later claim to have an important engagement with her aunt. Or maybe the dentist. It didn't really matter. She couldn't take those stares: the accusing eyes of her peers and friends. Not with her heart hammering against her breast.

Tatsuki watched her friend rush out of the classroom, her voice nearly following after her. But she held her tongue, eyes narrowing as she contemplated her friend's evident and recently acquired distress.

"Kuchiki Taicho, might I have a moment of your time?" Byakuya's eyes flittered up to look upon his secretary.

"What is it?" His bored tone gave nothing away as he resumed his paperwork.

"Your sister, Kuchiki Rukia, is here to see you." He paused minutely, which was a telling action in and of itself. Still, it was only for a brief moment that his surprise was so evident. To an untrained eye, nothing in his behavior would seem amiss.

"You may show her in," he replied, continuing with his task. His secretary bowed respectfully, quickly showing himself out of his office before admitting Rukia. She eyed him shrewdly. He sighed mentally, having an inkling as to why his adoptive sister would seek to exchange words.

"I understand you wanted to see me?" She nodded, momentarily hesitant with her words. She had successfully sought him out a week ago, having initially been worried over his decline in carrying Senbonzakura upon one of his customary walks. However, she had obviously developed another agenda by the time she had accosted him. Something odd had happened between himself and the mortal girl, Orihime Inoue.

The girl had acted as nothing short of a friend toward Rukia, and as such felt the protective need to ascertain the danger she felt her friend might be in should she be in any way involved with the Kuchiki Clan. The Clan, after all, was nothing short of a powerful aristocratic family replete with power-plays and secret schemes. The less involved an innocent bystander, the better in her opinion. However, things had escalated into a far more complicated farce than she had primarily hoped.

"Yes, brother. I did." She swallowed, thinking to choose her next words carefully. However, her adoptive sibling dissuaded her of that choice with his next spoken words.

"If you have something to say, say it plainly. I have no use for wasted pleasantries." Forcing back a sigh, she plunged ahead.

"I have been to see Unohana Taicho, brother. I hope that you are well?" There was a brief hesitance in the action of his hands, but otherwise no observable concern on his part. That's twice now, that you have given yourself away. He pushed away the thought, annoyed at his loss of control. It seemed to be occurring an awful lot, lately.

"I am." Well, this was leading her nowhere. She had hoped that he might be more forthcoming, especially as her snooping around the Yonbantai Health Facilities had proved less than fruitful. Upon her arrival, Rukia had been favored with Kotetsu Fukutaicho for company as they awaited the arrival of tea and Unohana Taicho.

Rukia had hoped that she might…persuade… the younger woman into spilling her guts before the arrival of her Taicho, but no such luck. She had a fair idea of how the woman operated, having served as her sister's underling in the Juubantai. Had she more time, she fully believed that Isane Kotetsu might have cracked. Rukia fancied that she could be very influential when she wished. But before any satisfactory answers could arrive, Unohana Taicho did first. The Taicho of the Yonbantai had been polite and charitable with her company and tea, but a steal trap with regards to what her brother had been up to.

"Is there a reason Orihime Inoue is to be brought before the Elders, brother?" she asked bluntly. He froze. That she had startled him was patently clear. She furrowed her brow. Was it possible that he hadn't known…? She herself had only just heard the news not but an hour ago, otherwise she would have sought out her brother long before this day.

What is it the mortals say? 'Third time is the charm'…? He bit his tongue, mulling over his thoughts, which were suddenly spinning with alacrity at this new revelation. The reason behind the absence of his Third Seat, Ritsu Kuchiki, suddenly became abundantly clear. There was no other explanation.

"This is the first I have come to hear of this," he chose to admit. Rukia fought not to allow her frustration to bleed into her voice, wishing he put enough faith into her that he might trust her with his secrets. It was evident that he had several, as of late. As did her friend, Orihime-chan. Still, she was confident that someone such as Ichigo or the girl Tatsuki would get her to share sooner than later. It was best that she work from this end, as her brother was the only other person she knew to be involved in…whatever the hell was going on.

"Ritsu has commissioned for a Senkaimon to bring her directly to the Kuchiki grounds, and will be doing so within the next few hours." He eyed her sharply at the confirmation of his suspicions, and for once, she returned the heavy stare.

"Brother," her tone softened, "please…what is going on…?" Why will you not confide in me? She wanted to ask. It burned on the edge of her teeth. But she wouldn't ask. Theirs was a precarious relationship. It was only within the realm of this past year that he had slowly begun to really look at her: something for which she had once so desperately wished over fifty years ago. For years she had craved having an older sibling. Someone on which she could rely, and have them depend on her in turn.

What she'd shared with Renji Abarai while growing up had come close…but had not truly been satisfactory. Hisana had been stolen from her long before such stability could occur. No. Hisana had abandoned her. Still, she had in turn gained a brother…though their tentative affiliation as brother and sister often felt more frail than she would like.

Her brother in question arose abruptly from his chair, nearly startling her. Most usually his movements were premeditated, fluid and with purpose. He was out of sorts, at least compared to his usual, taciturn self.

"When the time presents itself, I shall divulge these matters unto you." Rukia nearly swallowed her tongue. That Rukia felt slightly betrayed by his reticence to share what involved himself and her friend was palpable. Still, the fact that he was promising to clue her in was a bit of a shock. Though she would admit it to no one, hope still swelled within her chest at his words. She had thought he would dismiss her plea entirely. A year ago, he probably would have. "However, I find that my presence is now required elsewhere." She nodded, apprehension pinching at her face.

"As you wish, brother." He nodded, minutely considering the affection of touching her shoulder before he left the room. However, the hesitation gave way to discomfort, as he was not one for physical displays of warmth or fondness. Instead, he nodded his head and swept from the room, withholding the urge to shunpo from his office.

For a moment, Rukia's cobalt eyes followed him from the room, then traced back to his desk; taking in the miscellaneous paperwork uncharacteristically and plainly unfinished.

She tightened her obi nervously, fingering the bucolic, flowery pattern that deliciously complimented her brightly colored kimono in an off-kilter way. If I'm going to do this, I'm going to at least be myself. She nodded resolutely, trying hard not to allow her nerves to fray. In the end, since this meeting was no more than a rejection in part by the Kuchiki clan, she figured she ought to proudly showcase her eclectic tastes.

The feeling of something brushing past her arm awakened her from her idle musings. It was a jigokucho, fluttering ominously by on its delicate dark wings. Strange, the way they're all black. she thought as she turned to face the Senkaimon that had appeared in her living room.

Ritsu's eyes quickly took in her countenance. If he was surprised by the vivacious colors present in her wardrobe, it didn't show on his face. Pleasantly surprised by this non-reaction, she graciously took his offered hand, stepping through the innocuous-looking door.

Take deep breaths, Inoue….it's fine….You'll be fine. It'll all be over soon. She continued this pep talk, taking no notice of her companion as determination lent a beautiful gleam to her eye. The first real smile in days lit up her face. The agonizing wait, the listless inability to find a distraction…It had briefly reminded her of her captivity in Las Noches. She didn't fear confrontation: merely the build-up of tension that surrounded it. Just get through this, and you'll be home in time for dinner…or possibly lunch!

She hummed gladly to herself, taking in the grandeur of Kuchiki mansion as she strolled a few steps behind Ritsu-san and took a mental inventory of her groceries. Here and there servants bustled about, soft whispers echoing down the corridors as they took in the strange appearance of the beautiful young woman.

After taking a labyrinthine route, they arrived at a sliding screen door that hosted a dull murmur of deep voices. Ritsu padded forward, stealing a look over his shoulder at the girl in order to catch her eye.

"I will announce your presence. Please do not speak unless addressed directly," he told her quietly, "You may enter once Aida-san slides open the door." He gestured to the sedately seated servant in question. Orihime nodded politely to her and smiled at Ritsu.

"As you say, Ritsu-san!" Aida-san quickly slid opened the door, allowing Ritsu to enter. The dull murmur of voices died down immediately with his entry. Before Orihime had the chance to properly take in the scene, Aida-san resolutely slid the door closed once more.

Crouching down carefully, so as not to muss the fabric of her fine Kimono, Orihime resumed humming as she awaited her entry. To say she was not nervous would be a lie. But she was nothing if not talented at putting up a cheerful front, and she was confident that the forthcoming farce of humiliation would amount to nothing monumental, in the end.

"Ah, Ritsu-san. I believe you have brought a guest to us this day." Ritsu bowed ceremoniously, respectfully averting his eyes as he answered the retired 27th Head of the Kuchiki Clan.

"Yes, Ginrei-sama, I have."

"Then by all means, allow her entrance." Spoke the warm, honeyed voice of the venerable Mei Kuchiki. "I am most anxious to meet Inoue-san…"

"…with bated breath," gripped Chung-ho. Clearly, he was one who wanted to get this over with. The clearing of a matronly throat caused Ritsu to look up, and he froze once he noticed who was sitting seiza nearest the Elders. Byakuya Kuchiki's expression gave nothing away, though Ritsu felt an answering, cold trickle of sweat within his palms. Fueled with trepidation, Ritsu gently tapped the door, bidding Aida to send Orihime in.

She entered, and there was the briefest pause in her step that would suggest her sudden notice of Byakuya. Still, she resumed her graceful and quick step and sat seiza on the pallet centered in the room further behind Ritsu. She swallowed, a dry and sandpapery taste appearing within her mouth.

Why…Why is HE here? Her cinnamon orbs darted toward Ritsu's back. Did he know…? Was that part of the set-up?! She had been geared to be spoken over and ignored while before the Kuchiki Clan Elders. Byakuya's unprecedented appearance shifted her confidence in events playing out precisely the way she had once assumed. She was chagrined, and the evidence of it blossomed across her cheeks in a scarlet rush.

"Orihime Inoue…is, I believe, the ryoka who…." Mei simpered.

"No, that is incorrect," butt in Aiko, "true, she was a ryoka at one point, but she has since…"

"May we agree, ladies," Chung-ho huffed impatiently, "that this Orihime Inoue is a human from the World of the Living, gifted with immense and unusual reiatsu which the traitor Aizen sought to control."

"In any case, she has been brought before us to put to rest a matter of grave importance," another Elder chimed in a placating voice.

"Indeed. It is rumored my grandson, Byakuya, the 28th Head of our House, has taken up relations with Inoue-san." There was an accretive murmur from the crowd before Ginrei Kuchiki continued, "Is this true?"

Wishing she had not stylishly tied up her hair so that she might better hide her face, Orihime blushingly nodded, eyes downcast.

"It is." Apathetically intoned Byakuya.

"If you have the intent to continue with this dalliance," grumped Chung-ho, "I should inform you—"

"It is no mere dalliance," he decorously cut in, "I have every intent to pursue a formal courtship with Inoue-san." There was an uproar of hushed whispers and murmuring in reaction to his words. Sounding much like an explosion of bees clustering about a flowerbed.

Orihime felt her stomach drop into her already numbing, tabi-covered toes. She couldn't have heard that right. She refused to meet his gaze, keeping her large eyes fixed upon the expensive looking tatami mats upon the floor.

"Byakuya-sama, have you considered—?"

"I have," he cut in smoothly, "I foresee no negative outcome with this decision. She is gifted with immense reiatsu, for which she has the talent to heal, at the un-negligible envy of the Yonbantai. Many other clans would pay highly for her services, which could only escalate the already high affluence of our Noble House." Another wave of gentle murmuring was his answer, as if in affable contemplation of his words. Orihime felt her eyes sting; they couldn't possibly be considering this. His argument was laughable!

"She is not of noble birth," Mei declared dolefully. Whether it was for the loss of possible monetary gain or Byakuya's feelings, Orihime wasn't quite certain. Both possibilities made her distinctly uncomfortable. She fought the urge to squirm. This wasn't playing out at all the way she had assumed.

"And yet she is not of Rukongai, or any other of the districts," Aiko offered thoughtfully; an unprecidented opportunity for nobility to be overlooked. She turned her attention to Byakuya, "is she capable of carrying an heir to term?" Orihime felt a jolt at the abrupt question, akin to ice-water being doused on her back. By this point, her lower limbs were fully numb from sitting uncomfortably.

"She is." His voice sounded like oil over silk.

"By this point, she already very well may be." Ritsu intoned quietly. His own cerulean orbs caught those of his Head of House, whose eyes narrowed in reply of unspoken communication. His words had the desired effect amongst the elders. Orihime nearly fell over. What?! Am I pregnant?! Can they tell? Wha—what it going on?!" She felt like she was going to throw up. Or pass out. Given the choice, she'd rather not do the former.

Ginrei Kuchiki's voice rose above the din, recalling order as he looked straight at Orihime.

"Orihime Inoue-san, is this true?" She felt like a bird about to be swallowed by a cat, looking up at its fathomless, gaping maw while caught in its claws. She bowed her head, an answer choking past her throat.

"…Yes…" There was an immediate uproar.
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Heat Of The Night