Surrounded by scantily-clad women with painted faces and alluring scents, Ichigo is quite convinced he’s fallen victim to another one of Renji’s not-hilarious pranks.
“I was under the impression you were in need of assistance,” he says stiffly, doing his best Byakuya impersonation.
The woman next to him, breasts spilling out of her blue kimono not unlike Matsumoto-san, giggles at him. “Oh, we are,” she purrs, latching onto his arm with a grip that would put Kenpachi to shame. “We are so lonely.”
Ichigo works his jaw. This is not funny. See? Not laughing.
“That’s not why I’m here,” he tries to protest. He’s here, ladies, to destroy a couple of Hollow. But does he see any? Of course not.
His hand shoots out, catching the wrist of her free hand, seconds before it succeeds in creeping to the tie of his obi. “No touching, you!”
“Dianthe,” she corrects and presses closer. “But touching is required here. You look tense. Let me help.” Her floral perfume is overpowering. Will he be able to escape with dignity intact?
Wait. Screw dignity. He just wants to get out alive.
Another woman latches on to his left arm, inner thigh rubbing his leg. “Ooo, Dianthe. You’d better share this one.”
Ichigo feels his face get hot. “Uh…”
Dianthe hisses. “Back off! I grabbed him first.”
“Ladies that is quite enough,” another voice interjects, coming from above them. “Kurosaki-san is my client.”
“Yes, Lady Crysan.” Both women pout but withdraw, leaving Ichigo free to look at the newcomer, who makes him flush all over. She’s regal, refined, dressed in a green kimono with hair spilling over her shoulders. But the look in her eyes is that of a predator.
“After all,” she purrs, taking his arm and leading him away, “Kyouraku-taichou was kind enough to send him here and he deserves the best.”
Ah, the name of his betrayer. Ichigo knows who to blame. If he survives this intact, anyway. By the look in Lady Crysan’s eyes, he’s about to be thoroughly consumed.