A/N: I'm real mad about Bleach 589. And because I'm mad, I now have the inspiration to finish this story, which I started two years ago.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any other copyrighted material.

7 Minutes

Orihime Inoue was in big trouble. Or, she would be, if her older brother knew where she really was.

"Hey man! Glad you could make it!"

The incoming bro hugs between the host and his guests nearly knocked the plastic cup of soda out of Orihime's hands. She managed to hold onto it as she hurried away from the front door to give the boys more space, glad that nothing had spilled on her candy-striped dress. In hindsight, it had been a bad idea to stay so close to the entrance of the two-story slice of suburbia. Why she'd done so was simple enough: she wasn't supposed to be there. This was a high school party – no gawky, squealing preteens allowed – and she wanted to go home.

Unfortunately, she'd never been able to say no to her best friend Loly Aivirrne. "Come on, Princess, it's totally safe," the black-haired girl had said to her in the cafeteria bathroom as she smeared gloss on her lips. Loly was constantly fixing her makeup, and arranging her clothes as provocatively as she could before the teacher's caught on and she was sent to the office to change. She was popular with guys for her venom-coated tongue; whether she was flirting, dishing out verbal abuse in heaping helpings, or doing things to them that Orihime didn't believe she did, her tongue was constantly boosting her infamy. "The party's been thrown every year since Starrk got to high school, and no one's called the cops on him yet. Your boring brother will never find out."

"Sora isn't boring..." Orihime had muttered, earning her an icy glare from Loly. Contrary to Loly's miniskirts and tank tops, Orihime's wardrobe consisted primarily of floral print clothing, long skirts, and sweaters that hid her rapidly growing chest from view of her classmates.

"So this is the thanks I get for making you my friend?" Loly snapped. "I fish you out of hopeless nerdom, and you won't even try to come to a party with me because your brother will get mad? God, Orihime, try thinking for yourself for once." She jammed her lip gloss into her backpack and threw it over her shoulder. "Whatever. Kurosaki's gonna be there too, but since you obviously don't care..."

Orihime's cheeks warmed at the memory, and she took a sip of soda to cool down, the fizz tickling her throat. Loly hadn't been wrong; Orihime's crush, Ichigo Kurosaki, had walked in half an hour earlier, and brushed past Orihime without even acknowledging the fact that she was a human being. Not that he would notice someone like her. Ichigo was a jock, popular with pretty girls, and had ties to the upperclassmen. An overachieving geek like her flew so far under his radar that his brain's filter probably converted her into an awkwardly placed armchair.

"Orihime," a familiar, demanding voice called out, "are you going to stand there like an idiot all day or are you going to come make some friends?" Loly had worn a white sleeveless halter top that showed off her midriff and was one spilled beer away from disaster. She stood with a tall, bored-looking, blonde upperclassman who stared Orihime down as she approached.

"Who's the ditz?" the blonde asked, not caring if Orihime heard or not.

"Menoly, this is Orihime, my best friend." Loly wrapped both arms around one of Orihime's, smiling sweetly. "Princess, this is my cousin, Menoly. She's the one who got us permission to come."

Orihime, intimidated, nodded at the older girl. "I-It's nice to meet you."

Menoly regarded her with complete disinterest, taking a swig of beer from the bottle in her hand. Then she reached out and fingered the tips of Orihime's auburn bob. "You should grow your hair out. It'd look super cute."

"Right? I've been trying to convince her since, like, January, but she thinks it'll bring her unwanted attention or some shit." Loly rolled her eyes, but in doing so saw something that caught her attention. She gasped. "Quick, come with me." She didn't wait for Orihime's consent before she dragged her further into the den, where a group of kids she vaguely recognized from school was lounging on a sectional sofa. "Hey Grimmjow!" Loly cried, letting go of Orihime's arm and plopping down directly on the lap of a blue-haired boy. "What are you guys up to?"

"Get off me," he snapped, pushing her away. His eyes, which were as blue as his pushed back hair, landed on Orihime, then immediately lowered to her chest – which the buttons of her too-tight dress were straining to keep covered. He grinned. "Who's this? Someone from that preppy new school of yours?"

"She's my best friend Orihime! I rescued her from a tragic life of academic success and still haven't received my Nobel Prize for it." Loly whacked the sofa between her and Grimmjow. "Come sit with me, bestie!"

Orihime didn't like the way the blue haired guy was leering at her, so she shook her head and declined as politely as possible. "I'm okay. Besides, it's kind of cramped." There would be no chance of persuading Loly to leave now. She seemed perfectly comfortable between Grimmjow and a long haired blond guy who had slung his arm over her shoulders. "Umm, I think I'm gonna go to the restroom..."

"Huh?" Loly's face contorted with disgust. "I hope you're not planning on ditching me, Princess."

"No! I'll be right back!" But Loly was whispering something in Grimmjow's ear, her interest in Orihime's pathetic excuses gone. The boy's expression went from mild irritation to manic delight. He stood from the sofa, drawing the attention of the group.

"Alright guys! Time for a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven! You know the rules: whoever ends up in the closet has seven minutes to kiss, touch, and suck whatever they want." He sauntered over to Orihime, standing just a few inches taller than her. "And you get to go first."

Orihime's mouth dropped open. She desperately sought Loly, but her best friend was murmuring to the blond, her finger drawing lazy circles on his chest. Orihime's complaints managed to wedge past the heart in her throat "B-But I don't... I've never...!"

"Relax," Grimmjow lowered his voice, "Loly told me you had a crush on Kurosaki, and I happen to be friends with him, so if you get in the closet, I will deliver him to you personally."

Orihime hesitated. "Really?" Her nerves were a mess, fear and excitement battling for dominance through her blood. She kind of felt like throwing up.

"Sure, I'm not such a bad guy!" He took a step towards her. She instinctively took a few steps back. "Some advice, though, Princess. You might want to unbutton that dress a little. It'll make Kurosaki extra happy." And then he put a hand on her shoulder and shoved her so roughly that it almost knocked the wind out of Orihime. She cried out as she stumbled and fell flailing into the coat closet, landing hard on her butt. Looking up with wide, frightened eyes, she found Grimmjow holding the closet door, looming over her with that same manic grin as before. "Be right back," he practically sang, then slammed the door shut.

Inside the closet, the sounds from the party were slightly muted, the bass of the music playing in the living room the only thing truly distinguishable. Orihime's panicked breathing filled the small space. There was no air conditioning, and no light save for the crack beneath the door. She felt for the knob above her, fingers brushing solid wood until they found cool metal. It jiggled when she twisted it, but would not give to either side.

Relax, Grimmjow's voice came back to her in the darkness. Relax. He was friends with Kurosaki. He was going to go get him, and then she would be alone in a closet with the boy she'd admired from afar since the previous school year. She might even get to... to kiss him...!

Orihime's hands fluttered up to the top button of her dress. She used to love that dress, back when it fit her. But now her enormous-and-growing chest nearly pulled the thing apart, and since it was held together by buttons all the way down past her belly button, she had to keep smoothing it so no one would see her skin. That's the whole point of wearing it, Loly had scolded her back at her house. She'd refused to go anywhere unless Orihime put it on, and threatened to blame her if they missed the party because of her prudish behavior.

Now Orihime found herself unbuttoning the dress in the dark of the closet, an embarrassed flush crawling up her neck. How much was considered a little? With two buttons undone, the top of her bra was showing. Not that he'd be able to see it, but...

The closet door swung open. Orihime gasped, instinctively turning to the wall to hide herself. "Have fun!" she heard Grimmjow sneer before the door hit the frame with a bang and darkness reigned again. Muffled laughter was heard on the other side. Suddenly Orihime had lost every scrap of courage she'd gathered. She couldn't bring herself to turn away from the wall. The doorknob was tried, discovered locked, and her new closet companion let out a sigh.

"Idiots," murmured a voice she didn't recognize.

Panic crawled up Orihime's stomach, manifesting as tears that gathered on her eyelids and spilled over without permission. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Y-You aren't Kurosaki..." she whispered.

There was a heartbeat of silence – even the music outside seemed to have stopped. Then the unfamiliar voice spoke again. "Sorry to disappoint."

Orihime seized the open ends of her dress with one hand and used the other to help her scramble to the back corner of the closet, successfully tangling her hair in a jacket zipper in the process. She yelped in pain when the strands snagged, preventing her from going further. This wasn't happening. It wasn't right. "No," she said, not sure what she was protesting. "No, it's not... Loly's out there. She would have stopped them..."

"Loly Aivirrne?" the voice inquired.

"She's my friend! She would have..."

"Loly Aivirrne is no one's friend." It was a cold declaration that chilled Orihime's entire body. "Haven't you noticed that the only people who hang around her are guys that want something from her?"

Orihime sat still, her free hand resting on the zipper pulling her hair. It wasn't true. Loly was... She was nice to her, invited her everywhere, sat with her at lunch. She gave her fashion advice and skipped class to buy her snacks. She wasn't embarrassed to call Orihime her friend. But then... she was also bossy, and mean when she didn't get her way. She forced Orihime to watch movies that gave her nightmares, insulted her taste, said bad things about her brother, and was always wanting to copy her homework. She constantly reminded Orihime that she would be nothing without her friendship.

"Anyway..." She heard movement in the dark, and remembered her immediate predicament: locked in a closet with someone she didn't know, couldn't see, and was expected to make out with. Her fingers began to pry at the zipper again. "Calm down. I have no intention of playing that stupid game."

Orihime let go of her dress and added a second hand to her struggle for freedom. She'd been lied to enough already, why should she believe him?

"Are you alright?"

She pulled on her hair, but it only snagged further, and she whimpered in pain. "I'm stuck," she said. "My hair is..."

"Why didn't you say so before?" More movement. Clothes rustling. Orihime felt a shoe touch her leg and drew it back quickly. "Did I step on you?"

"No."

Someone was crouching down in front of her. There was a soft snap, and bright blue light from a blocky cell phone screen lit up the closet, illuminating her companion's face. He had dark hair that fell almost in his eyes, which had been wincing against the glare of the light, but now widened in surprise. She stared back at him, taking in the glasses, the T-shirt that referenced some band she didn't listen to, and realized that she really didn't know who he was. She'd never seen him at school before. He turned his head away. "Could you... fix your dress, please?"

Orihime blinked, then felt the heat rush straight to her head. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I forgot, and they told me to— but I didn't mean— it's not like I wanted him to—!" She fumbled with the buttons of her dress, closing it up with trembling fingers. "Sorry!"

The cell phone light went out. He clicked it back on with his thumb, but didn't look at her until she quietly told him it was safe to. "Your hair's caught," he noted.

"Yeah. Can you hold your phone up to... like that, yes. Thank you." She could see where it was tangled, and went to work carefully extracting it. True to his word, he didn't try to make a move on her, even though he very well could have. But she was still nervous, and thought that perhaps she should keep him talking to distract him from changing his mind after seeing her bra. "You don't go to my school, do you?"

He clicked the cell phone light back on. "If you go to school with Loly and Grimmjow, then no."

"But you know them."

"Family friends," he clarified. "Our parents are members of the Las Noches Country Club."

"Oh." She managed to yank most of her stuck hair out. "But if they're your friends, why did they throw you in here with me?"

"They think I'm gay, so they're trying to fix me."

"Oh," she said again, looking at him shyly. "Are you...?"

"No."

"Oh – I mean, sorry. That was a rude question."

"It's not rude to be curious." He pointed out the strand of hair still stubbornly clinging to the zipper. "Do you need help?" Orihime didn't want to admit that she did, but at this rate it would take the Jaws of Life to get her free... or at least a pair of scissors. She nodded, embarrassed. "Here," he said, holding his cell phone out to her. Orihime took it, observing before she aimed the screen at the coats that his wallpaper was a pair of bat wings.

He leaned over her, careful to keep his balance, and began working on the snag. Orihime angled herself so that he wouldn't be able to see into her dress, even though he kind of already had. And anyway, he was keeping his eyes on what he was doing. "I know it's none of my business," he said, "but you should stop hanging out with Loly. She's probably only pretending to be your friend so she can make fun of you."

Orihime felt a pang in her heart that brought fresh tears to her eyes. "Why would she do that?"

"She's jealous of pretty girls." His frown deepened in concentration. "She thinks they can get away with anything."

"But Loly's pretty too. A bunch of guys like her."

"Only because she puts out." He unwound the strand of hair and it finally detached from the zipper, but it remained tangled up in a messy knot that stood separate from the rest of her otherwise straight hair. "You might want to comb that."

Orihime wiped her cheeks and managed what might have been her first real smile of the evening. "Thank you."

"—you doing to some poor girl—"

"Fuck off, Arisawa! None of your—damn business!"

The closet door was abruptly thrown open, flooding the small space with light and temporarily blinding its occupants. Orihime felt a hand grab her arm, and in the next moment she was on her feet, out of the closet, wobbling for balance in front of an angry-looking girl with spiky black hair. "Are you alright?" she asked, then whirled around and socked Grimmjow in the face before Orihime could answer. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"My nose!" Grimmjow squealed, blood seeping through his fingers as he tried to cover it.

"And you!" The girl's fist reared back, ready to deliver justice to the boy who had emerged from the closet after Orihime, but a hand caught her by the wrist.

"That's enough, Tatsuki."

Orihime, whose eyes were leaking unnoticed tears, felt her heart skip a beat, for standing behind her was none other than Ichigo Kurosaki, restraining the spiky-haired girl from letting loose on anyone else. He looked at her, his expression one of mild annoyance. "Inoue, right? Are you okay?"

He knows my name. Orihime nodded mutely.

Tatsuki ripped her arm from his grip. "Whatever." She turned her attention to Orihime again, rage replaced by an almost sisterly concern. "Who did you come here with? Is there anybody that can take you home?"

"Kurosaki, you tell that bitch of yours to—"

"You want me to rip your balls off, Jaegerjaquez?" Tatsuki shrieked.

"What's going on here?" Loly stood in the doorway to the hall, pulling her halter top into place, a disembodied voice entreating her to come back to the dark corner she'd materialized from. Her gaze landed on Orihime, standing between Ichigo Kurosaki and some savage jock girl, then momentarily flickered to Grimmjow and his bleeding nose, then returned to Orihime. "Are they bothering you?"

Orihime's eyes widened. Were they bothering her? Like she'd wanted to be tricked into a closet with a guy whose name she didn't even know? She could have gotten hurt. She could have been touched against her will. If it had been anyone else, Orihime was a hundred percent positive that she would have walked away with much more than a messed up hairdo. She separated herself from Ichigo and Tatsuki, standing before her best friend with a wounded yet determined expression. "What you did to me was cruel," she whispered, shaking from anger, from sorrow, from leftover fear. "And dangerous. You didn't even try to defend me, or tell them to stop." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Loly, but I don't think I want to be friends with someone like you."

"Eh?" Loly sneered. "You're dumping me?"

"That's right."

She laughed out loud, wickedly, disbelieving. "God, it was just a joke!" she snapped, then suddenly composed herself, like she'd grown bored of the whole situation. "Whatever. See how far you get with that slutty body of yours without me by your side. I don't care."

Orihime couldn't stand it anymore. She choked on a sob and ran past Loly to freedom. Tatsuki made a gesture at Ichigo to follow Orihime. But she took her time, stopping beside Loly and jerking towards her like she was going to attack her. Loly screamed and jumped away, her cheeks coloring when Tatsuki cackled and sauntered off, hands in her jacket pocket. "Ugly dyke!" she shrieked, slinking back into the den.

Outside of the house, Orihime sat on the front step, crying with her head in her lap, not caring if it made it easier for people to see into her dress. Ichigo stood behind her, scratching his head and looking highly uncomfortable. "D-Don't even worry about it," he muttered, fumbling for words. "Good people don't say such nasty things to their friends, so she obviously wasn't..." He spotted Tatsuki and waved her over frantically.

Orihime couldn't have been more humiliated. She'd been called a slut in front of her crush, her hair was a mess, and she was heartbroken by the loss of the only friend she had. And worse still was knowing that rumors would fly through the school with no one to contradict them. What were people going to say about her on Monday? She wanted to curl up and die on the spot.

A hand landed on her shoulder. Reluctantly, she lifted her tear-stained face and found the girl who had rescued her, smiling sadly. "Hey, don't cry. You're Orihime, from the advanced placement classes, aren't you?" Orihime nodded once, sniffling. "Thought so. Ichigo's cousin is in a few of your classes. He says you're like the smartest girl in school or something. Uryuu Ishida, know him?" Orihime nodded again, though she hadn't known that he was Ichigo's cousin; they looked nothing alike. Tatsuki reached out and dabbed Orihime's cheeks with her jacket sleeve. "If you're worried about that bitch Loly, don't be. You sit with us at lunch on Monday, and if she tries to bother you, I'll knock her flat."

Orihime hiccupped. "Really?"

"Really. My name's Tatsuki, by the way, and this lunkhead is Ichigo." She glanced shyly at Ichigo, who grumbled something about not being a lunkhead under his breath. Was she dreaming? Had she just been admitted into her crush's inner circle while she had watery snot gushing from her nose? These things didn't happen in real life. But there was Tatsuki, offering her cell phone so Orihime could call her brother, and there was Ichigo Kurosaki, acting like he couldn't hear Sora yelling at her.

Later, after Orihime had been taken safely home, and was getting the lecture of the century from her red-faced older brother, she found herself overwhelmed by a flood of gratitude. Gratitude towards Sora for loving her enough to come for her no matter how angry he was. Gratitude towards her new friend for sticking up for her. Gratitude towards the boy in the closet, whose name she had never discovered, for choosing not to kiss her.

But it would be several years before she fully understood why it was so important that he hadn't.

...

...

Twenty-one year old Orihime Inoue relaxed her smile and stiff pose, dropping both arms from the shoulders of her sisters. Did they have to take group shots at every single party they attended? She loved the fraternity for its humanitarian component: volunteering at soup kitchens, training in disaster relief, running adoption events for local animal shelters, collecting donations to pay the outstanding balances of parents who couldn't afford school lunches for their kids – that's what she'd joined for! She didn't see what taking pictures had to do with any of that. Besides, why have documented evidence that they were at a party where the majority of attendees were underage, and already in various states of drunkenness?

"Orihime, where are you going?" Her roommate, Riruka Dokugamine, staggered over to her in a pair of knee high boots that clashed with her dress but gave off a warrior princess vibe. They'd met in their freshman year of college, and had bonded over their mutual love of all things cute. Riruka was two and a half sheets to the wind already, the beer bottle in her hand guaranteeing she'd make it to three before long, and Orihime knew for a fact that she wasn't twenty-one yet. But Riruka had serious relationship problems, which she claimed was a perfectly valid excuse for getting hammered. "Man," she whined, "I'm freezing my boobs off."

"Which coincidentally answers your question. Want to come inside with me? I don't think I'm brave enough to spend what's left of this year in the snow." They'd lucked out that winter: a cold front had swept through, dumping four inches of snow on the half-abandoned college town just in time for New Year's. On the front lawn of the frat house, a few feet from where they stood, the top halves of beer cans were poking out of the powder, lined up like stepping stones for anybody wanting a cold one before they entered the building.

Riruka gave her a lopsided smile. "You're a genius," she gushed, leaning on Orihime for support. "You know who else is a genius?" Her eyes rapidly became watery. "My darling Shuu."

Orihime put her arm around Riruka's waist and began dragging her towards the palatial frat house. Shukuro Tsukishima was Riruka's on again-off again boyfriend, a businessman of thirty-four who worked for a famous social media company, and didn't understand Riruka's need to dress in lolita fashion outside of the bedroom. Even now, at a party where the dress code was formal evening wear, Riruka had a small hat with a veil perched crookedly on her head. "He knows everything," she whimpered as they crossed the threshold. "Like, you have no idea what he knows."

"How can I when you never tell me?" Orihime joked, stepping over the threshold and searching the foyer for someone she recognized. Renji Abarai was a few feet away, staring vacantly at the chandelier above their heads. When he saw Orihime in her glittering silver gown and faux fur shrug, and the emotionally unstable burden beneath her arm, he made like he hadn't noticed them and started to turn around. "Renji!" He flinched, considered ignoring her, but realized that the flinch had given him away. He turned back to Orihime with a smile.

"Oh, hey, what's up? I didn't see you," he lied.

"Can you and Jackie do me a favor and take Riruka home? I don't want to leave her by herself, and I didn't bring my own car."

Renji sighed. He was a good guy, really. It just took him a few minutes to remember that when there was virtually nothing in it for him. "Sure." Orihime passed her roommate off, flashing Renji her most dazzling smile.

"Thank you so much."

"...and I keep trying to tell him that it's who I am, you know? I was born this way..." Riruka's head rolled onto Renji's chest. "Oh, hey Renji..."

"Yo. Let's find Jackie. You can tell her all about how awful Shuu is on the way home, okay?"

That dealt with, Orihime walked across the foyer, which was thankfully not as populated as the rest of the house. In every room there were shimmering dresses, suits, stiletto heels and ties, pressing and throbbing and wiggling. Why hadn't these kids gone home to spend the holidays with their families? It was suffocating, but she'd still rather be in there than outside.

Unfortunately, this many bodies meant the windows would be crowded with people hoping to catch the fireworks display from the warmth and safety of the frat house. If she couldn't squeeze in somewhere, she'd be forced back into the cold. Where could she go? Lifting the skirt of her dress so that she would be able to walk easier, she made for the stairs, grabbing onto the ornate iron rail and hoping she didn't twist an ankle in her four-inch heels.

The second floor of the house boasted half a dozen or more rooms. She avoided the ones with ties hanging from the doorknobs, having learned a while ago that such decorations were code, not carelessness. But she'd also learned that some people didn't adhere to that code, so she pressed her ear against the doors that were tie free and knocked before trying to enter.

It took three tries for her to find an unoccupied room. She slipped in quietly, unnoticed by a giggling group of girls at the end of the hall, and closed the door behind her. The noise of the party faded somewhat. She let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting and searched her surroundings for a window. The room had a sailor theme, complete with anchor-decorated bed spread and a bottled ship gathering dust on a bookshelf. Orihime smiled, struck by how cute and out of place it seemed in a rowdy frat house where things were bound to be broken.

"In here, guys!"

A startled gasp escaped her throat. There were voices right outside the door, all of them male, and she'd left her purse – and her pepper spray – downstairs with her other roommate, Rukia Kuchiki. Orihime liked to give people the benefit of the doubt, but more often than not she'd opened up to the wrong kind of person in the past, and drunk guys in packs made her especially nervous. Her eyes scanned the room. A bathroom, there in the back corner. She ran into it, shutting and locking the door, but they could still hear her in there if it was quiet enough, right? At the end of the bathroom was another door, leading into what appeared to be a large walk-in closet. Orihime removed her heels and tip-toed towards it, hoping the tread of her bare feet wouldn't be detected.

Once in the closet, she put her shoes down on its carpeted floor and slowly pulled the door closed. Her fingers tapped along the wall until she found a light switch, which she pinched as she flipped it upwards in order to mute its click. Then she turned around, hoping to locate yet another place to hide herself further...

...and found a guy staring back at her.

Neither of them moved. Neither seemed to breathe. She took in his straight black hair, his wide green eyes, his white Oxford shirt with the green-gray striped tie, and the suit jacket that he'd removed and draped across a round ottoman in the center of the closet; he took in her curve-embracing silver sheath gown, the long auburn hair piled atop her head in a messy updo, her panicked eyes and the silver dust making their lids glitter, and her bare toes sinking into the carpet. Orihime lifted a shaking hand and pressed a finger to her lips. The stranger nodded, having heard the voices on the other side of the wall.

Great, now instead of three guys, it was one. But if he tried anything on her, she could scream, and the others would come running. But then would they want to help her, or get in on the action? She supposed she could defend herself with a metal coat hanger... or her high heels, if it came to that.

He must have noticed her discomfort, though, because a moment later he held up both hands in a gesture of surrender, then put them behind his back. Now it was Orihime's turn to nod, though she did so reluctantly. Seemingly satisfied, he pulled his smart phone from his pocket and unlocked the screen, the blue glow lighting up his face.

A soft, stifled gasp brought his attention back to Orihime. Her eyes had grown to the size of golf balls, one manicured hand covering her mouth. Then she lowered it slowly, and in a squeaky whisper, she spoke. "I know you."

It must have been fate. No amount of coincidence in the world would have put her back in a closet with the first boy she'd ever shared one with.

Yes, she recognized his features, though they'd elongated with age and he wasn't wearing glasses. It was him. She was sure of it. Even the default boredom on his face was the same. She pointed to herself, whispering excitedly, "Do you know who I am?"

He dropped his phone onto his suit jacket distractedly. Something was dawning on him; she could see the lights going on in his eyes. "Seven Minutes in Heaven," he said in a low, deep voice. Orihime's smile broadened. "Coyote Starrk's party."

Her wariness utterly discarded, she moved to the center of the walk-in closet, stopping a few feet in front of him. "Oh my God. I can't... Please, it's killing me. Tell me your name," she said, matching his volume.

The boy of her past, now a man, slipped his hands into his pockets and regarded her with open curiosity. "Ulquiorra Cifer."

"Ulquiorra," she breathed, matching the new name to the familiar face. It was a moment she hadn't even known she was waiting for, finally happening, almost a decade after the night that had changed her life for the better. Words were escaping her, but she managed to grab onto a few before she could be struck completely dumb. "I'm Orihime Inoue. It's so nice to officially meet you." A giggle escaped her throat. "But I can't believe we're stuck in a closet together again."

If he found it half as funny as she did, he didn't show it. "I think the circumstances are marginally better this time around," he said. "Though you are welcome to disagree."

"No way. I totally agree." Then she stared at him, still in disbelief, too happy to do anything else. She knew his name! The mystery was solved! Her preteen self could rest easy now! She wiped her slightly clammy hands on her dress, trying to think of something to say. The topic of the weather was out of the question, but there was always the obvious. "What are you doing in here?"

Ulquiorra's gaze shifted to the door. "Hiding," he answered plainly. "Had I known there would be so many people at this party, I would not have come."

"It's odd, isn't it? Don't they have families to go home to?"

His eyes found hers. "Don't you?"

Orihime lowered her head, her smile thinning a bit. She hadn't planned on thinking of her late brother that night, but then, she hadn't planned on meeting a ghost from her past in the closet of a frat house, either. "Not anymore. I mean, I've got family, but we aren't let's-visit-over-the-holidays close." She shrugged. "How about you?"

She thought she saw him smirk. "My parents decided to deal with their empty nest syndrome by selling the house and leaving the country. They send money when it's needed, postcards when they feel like it."

"How, umm, thoughtful of them?"

"If you were thinking of saying 'avoidant,' it would not hurt my feelings." He sat down on the ottoman, moving his jacket aside so that she could sit beside him. She did so, stretching her legs and wiggling her toes. The muffled voices on the other side of the wall continued. "Were you happy?" he asked at length.

Orihime smiled. "About what? Finding out your name? Definitely."

"No," he said, though he looked a little embarrassed to hear her say so, "back then. After you were rescued by the boy you were expecting in the closet, and his... energetic friend."

"Oh, that." Orihime leaned back on her palms, remembering the school days, the summer afternoons, the birthdays, the sleepovers, the funeral, and the graduations that had come after the Starrk party. "I was very happy. Even when I wasn't, I knew that I would have the strength to get through it. And I have you to thank for that as well."

"Me?"

She reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, frowning when it caught in her earring. "You didn't kiss me," she said. "It may not seem like much, but I was pretty scared of guys in those days. My dad, he... well, he wasn't nice. My brother took me out of the house when he turned eighteen and raised me on his own. I felt safe with him, but at school there were other guys, and to them I was either the teacher's pet or a walking pair of breasts once fifth grade came around. You know how many times I'd been groped before Loly befriended me?" Orihime laughed humorlessly and bent her head to the side as she tried to get her hair untangled. "Anyway, it didn't cross my mind until I was older, but... if you had forced yourself on me that night, I might have never been able to trust a guy again. So thank you for not doing that." She smiled at him. "Really, thank you."

Ulquiorra looked at her like she'd just told him he was singlehandedly responsible for saving the world: incredulous and a little frightened for being thought of so highly by anyone. Then he noticed the trouble she was having with her earring. "Do you need help?"

Orihime sighed and dropped her hands into her lap. "I'm starting to think you're bad luck for my hair," she joked, but turned her head to let him look. His hand brushed against her cheek as he reached for the earring, causing her to blush.

"You know, helped me that night, too," he said.

She lifted her eyes to his face, which was set in concentration, much like it had been then. "I did?"

"Mmhmm." He pulled the stuck strand of hair through the loop it was snagged in. "You were shy and scared, but you mustered up the courage to stand up to Loly, even if she made you look foolish in the process." Orihime felt the pressure on her ear ease. "I'd always had trouble sticking up for myself, which my so-called friends took advantage of. But after that night, I started complaining more, saying no to their ridiculous schemes when I knew they'd get me into trouble. Grimmjow, at least, gained a healthy respect for my wishes, and even calmed down a bit himself."

Orihime's eyes widened. "How was his nose, by the way? I saw him on Monday after the party and half his face was bruised."

Ulquiorra smiled. "He claimed the new shape was an improvement."

"Oh God." Orihime laughed out loud, then immediately clapped her hands over her mouth. They both froze, listening. Silence beyond the door. Then someone spoke, and the others followed suit, none of the voices moving closer to the bathroom or closet. "Sorry," Orihime whispered.

"It's fine." Ulquiorra pointed at her ear. "Untangled."

"Thanks."

The sound of a door slamming made them both jump. Once again they listened, but this time there were no more voices. They waited a full minute and all they heard was the music from downstairs. "I think they're gone," Ulquiorra said, at a louder volume, just to be sure. When no one came after them, he looked at Orihime. "You're free to go."

Orihime hesitated, standing slowly. So that was it then? She wanted to watch the fireworks, and she wanted to find her friends at midnight to wish them a happy new year, but... "Aren't you coming too?"

"I'd rather not." Ulquiorra stood with her – a gesture of chivalry – and his hands moved back into his pockets. "I'm only obligated to be here until after the countdown, when I can leave without being called a killjoy."

"That's too bad," she said, trying not to let her disappointment show. But if he was here, it meant that he was a student at the university, and Orihime wanted to believe she could pick him out of a crowd now that she knew who she was looking for. "I guess I'll see you around?"

"I guess so," Ulquiorra agreed.

Orihime started for the door, reminding herself that she had to pick up her shoes. She didn't get far before a reoccurring thought swam to the surface of her memory. A smile that was both mischievous and shy lit up her face, and she turned back to Ulquiorra, who had retrieved his suit jacket and was giving it a baleful stare. "You know..." He paused, draping the jacket over his arm as she approached him. "This is probably going to sound super weird, but I always told myself that if I could go back in time – like if I had a time machine or something – and I ended up in that closet with you again... I wouldn't mind giving you my first kiss."

Ulquiorra's eyebrows went up a bit, though Orihime couldn't tell if it was from shock or interest. "I assume that it is too late for that."

"Yeah," she whispered. Then she leaned forward, put a hand on his shoulder, and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. If he wasn't surprised by her words before, her actions surely caught him off guard; he didn't even respond. She withdrew, letting her hand fall back to her side, and noticed with some pleasure that she wasn't the only one blushing. "Umm... I should... go," she stammered, taking a step away from him.

His hand circled her wrist, gently enough to not scare her, but firm enough to stop her from leaving. Orihime's heart beat even faster as he lowered his head and returned her kiss with another, equally chaste kiss that sent warmth from her face to her chest. She gazed at him timidly, the time and her friends momentarily forgotten, and thought that the way his green eyes had fallen half-closed was very attractive. Their lips met again almost unconsciously, like it was the most natural thing in the world. She heard his jacket dropping back onto the ottoman, then felt the soft touch of his fingers on her rosy cheek, before they were replaced by his palm. Her lips moved with his slowly, separating only long enough for them to exchange curious, shy glances before being drawn to each other again. She laid her hands on his chest, and his fell to her waist as the kiss deepened.

Orihime had been kissed by three different guys in the past, but neither had ever made her feel quite so... special? They'd always acted like her lips were just an inconvenient pit stop on the road to her chest, and she'd chosen to stop dating until she met someone more mature. But she wasn't dating Ulquiorra. She hardly even knew him, and he kissed her with more care than guys she'd been acquainted with for years. It was, admittedly, extremely appealing. A sigh escaped her and she tilted her head, stepped closer to him, increased the pressure of her lips on his. The hand cradling her cheek moved down to her neck, and the one at her waist slid up to her lower back. Her fingers curled into his shirt.

"Orihime," he said against her lips.

"Hmm?" she murmured, releasing his shirt to comb her fingers through his hair. Wow, her name sounded nice when he said it...

He groaned, kissing her with a little less restraint than before. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Umm," she managed intelligently, regaining enough of her senses to look at him, "are you trying to get rid of me?"

"No." He kissed the corner of her mouth. "Just wondering." Then he became distracted by her flushed cheeks, her dazed expression, the pulse thrumming beneath his thumb as he caressed her neck, the alluring shape of her moistened lips as she leaned in and brushed them against his. He walked her backwards, removing the faux fur shrug from her shoulders and letting it fall at their feet, until her body met the closet door. His mouth came down on hers roughly, riding the invisible electric current building between them.

Orihime's lips parted in a quiet moan, allowing his tongue in to taste her. There was a hint of champagne in her kiss from the little bit she'd had earlier that evening, and she wondered if that was helping her be so bold. Her tongue wound around his, her fingers tangled in his hair, their breathing came in harsh gasps. She experimentally nipped his bottom lip and felt a tremor run through him...

Then the sound of muffled chanting reached them through the closet walls, building as it was taken up by everyone in and outside of the frat house. Ulquiorra reluctantly broke the kiss, resting his forehead on hers. "Countdown."

"Is it?" Orihime absently played with his tie, listening for any distinguishable numbers. Then the realization of what she'd just done hit her, and she burst into giggles, lowering her head to hide her face in his chest. "I have to go," she said, "for real this time."

"Now you remember." He sounded amused.

There was a particularly loud cry from outside, followed by raucous cheers and the unmistakable boom of fireworks. And despite her embarrassment and insistence that she needed to leave, she didn't push away the hand that raised her head, or the lips that tenderly covered hers once, twice, three times, and a fourth before releasing them. "Happy New Year," she whispered.

"Happy New Year," he said in kind.

Then she gathered up her shrug and her heels, opening the closet door and giving Ulquiorra one last look over her shoulder. He smiled at her. She grinned back.

...

It took twenty minutes for Orihime to hug and air-kiss everyone she knew at the party. Rukia noticed her flushed face and smeared lipstick right away, but only gave her a you're-going-to-spill-everything-later look before handing over the purse Orihime had brought with her. Everyone else was either too drunk or too happy to care.

Orihime had just been forced back out onto the lawn for another group photo – this time with them all doing their fraternity's trademark hand sign – when she saw Ulquiorra walking in the snow, headed for the street. She extracted herself from her sisters the moment the flash had faded and tottered after him, avoiding the icy patches on the sidewalk. "Hey!" she called out, cursing the impairment of her mobility by her tight dress and heels. "Ulquiorra!"

He'd put on a black overcoat and a scarf to shield himself from the elements, and upon seeing her wobbling through the January night with mostly bare arms and impractical footwear, he stopped immediately. "You're going to get frostbite," he said.

"I've only been out here a few minutes." Her teeth were starting to chatter. "But I'll make this quick just in case." She drew herself up to her full height and exhaled a cloud of condensation. "Do you wanna, maybe, grab lunch sometime? Like... on campus when school starts up again?"

Ulquiorra thought it over. "Why not sooner?"

Orihime blushed, trying to contain her smile. "Day after tomorrow?"

"That sounds much better."

"Orihime, you're gonna lose your toes!" one of her sisters shouted from the frat house's front door.

She laughed sheepishly and withdrew her cell phone from her purse. "Here, give me your number." They exchanged contact info, Orihime barely able to type with the force of her shivering. Then she had no choice but to scurry back to the house after a rushed and pleasantly awkward goodbye, stealing glances at his retreating form the entire way.

Inside, she found a vacant sofa and bundled up under her coat, ignoring everyone and everything in the vicinity. Her brain was swimming in wonderful feelings: excitement, stunned disbelief, mild shame and pride at her own deviousness.

She would have to call Tatsuki in the morning. It couldn't be helped. There was no way she'd let her best friend go without knowing that she'd ended the year playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with the guy who'd almost gotten decked years ago for a crime he'd only just committed now.

And God, did she ever wish she'd kissed him sooner.

The End

A/N: The original purpose of this story was random snogging. Now it's me being angry about Orihime's treatment in canon AND random snogging. Makes a surprisingly productive combo. Anyway, let me know what you thought! I'm off to stare at Tell Yourself and wonder if it's too late to hint at a future Karin and Grimmjow romance... I mean, things that are actually relevant to the plot.

/Princess Kitty1/