Hello Everyone, and welcome my latest fic!

First of I would just like to say thank you to my wonderful beta-reader Shi-Daisy for her help.

And as for the obvious, I of course do not own either Phantom of the Opera or Bleach.

I hope you all enjoy this story, and please remember to follow, favourite and review :)

Leaning against the railings on the ship's deck, Orihime watched the water turn white and transform into small waves against the side of the ship as it's hull cut through the surface of the water. It was the last day of her journey and Orihime had opted to spend the last of her time on board soaking up the smell of the sea air and listening to the winds and waves. A sudden gust of wind from behind her blew Orihime's fox fur coloured hair into her face. The metal of the railings and the Baltic winds had all but froze Orihime's hands to blocks of ice but she still managed to lift them up to pull the locks out of her face. Amongst the shifting of the red strands, her fingers felt the solidness of her hairpins. Orihime bit her lip at the sudden jolt of pain that beat through her heart at the feel of them, working her numb fingers as best she could, she pulled the blue flower shaped pins away from her temples and fastened the two of them onto the lapel of her coat, patting her hand where they lay over her heart.

"Sora." The mourning girl whispered the name was quickly swallowed up by the wind. Hot tears began slipping down her face but she didn't even try to stop them, Orihime decided that she would do all her crying now, so her friends wouldn't see.

Although she had been born in Germany, Orihime Inoue had spent most of her life in Spain, or more accurately in the Las Noches Opera House, with her older brother Sora. Orihime didn't remember her parents very well, and what she did remember of them made her understand why her brother had been willing at such a young age to run away from home with his toddler sister. Some of Orihime's earliest memories were set on the streets watching her big brother play for the hope of pennies from passing strangers and then huddling together at night for warmth. Until one day a man with a walking stick and a funny hat had sat down across the street from where the children had been that day and listened to Sora perform every song he knew how to play, when Sora finally took a break to rest his fingers the man offered what would be her brothers first round of applause. His name was Urahara Kisuke, and he apparently had an eye for spotting talent. He offered Sora a chance, to hone his music, to fulfill his potential, to get far away from Düsseldorf. Maybe they were just that hungry, but to both Sora and Orihime at the time, Urahara had been like an angel to them, whisking them away from the misery they'd been born into and into the beauty of the Las Noches Opera house. At first, the sibling's time had been spent doing odd jobs around the building, mostly cleaning and acting as stagehands during rehearsal. But all the time Sora was also receiving training in his music from the musicians, and by the time Orihime was fifteen, Sora was working as a violinist in the orchestra pit. Around the same time, she had started training with the ballet troupe under the tutelage of the opera's Prima ballerina Yoruichi Shihoin as well as the dance mistress Tier Harribel. When Orihime was seventeen was when she met two of her closest friends Rukia and Uryu, Rukia was a fellow dancer, joining the ballet troupe after years of personal training, and Uryu had made himself at home in the opera house as the costume designer, the spectacled young man had no interest in working on stage but no one could deny he made some of the most beautiful dresses you would ever see.

And it was during the summers that Ichigo would come to visit. His father was apparently an old friend of Uruhara which meant his family often spent their summers traveling to visit him. Ichigo, Orihime, Rukia, and Ishida had all been around the same age so naturally, they spent most of their free time together. Even all these years later she couldn't help the small upward tilt of her lips at the memories of him, Ichigo Kurosaki, her first love unrequited. Her childish heart had been filled to the brim with adoration for the boy who'd seemed so fearless yet kind, even after the logical part of her mind had realized that he would never love her as anything more than a dear friend, sometimes you just couldn't help how you felt. That being said Orihime wasn't a fool, she saw how Ichigo had started to look at Rukia. Even just last year...

Orihime almost wanted to laugh when she thought about how she really should have known better, life at Las Noches with her friends and brother, it was too good to be true. No. Rather it was too good to last, so when Sora's health had started to fail, Orihime really should have known better than to get her hopes up that he would recover because he had to recover because he was her big brother, and please don't leave me alone Sora-

He had died around this time last year. The family they had made for themselves at Las Noches had all been there for the siblings, during the entirety of Sora's sickness, from the moment he became bedridden to the moment it became apparent that he wasn't going to get better. The night when her brother's breath had stilled and his hand had gone limp in hers, Orihime had spent hours weeping into Rukia's shoulder. Sora had had just one request about his burial, that he wanted his body to be returned to Japan so that he could be buried near their Grandfather. Orihime had never been to her mother's homeland but she couldn't deny Sora his last request. The whole voyage had taken just under a year. Easily the worst year of her life. But Orihime was still able to find it in herself to wipe away the wet tracks on her face as she spotted the shape of the coastline on the approaching.

This last year may have felt like rock bottom, it may have felt like she was going to break a couple of days where the loneliness had been particularly crushing. But she didn't break, she had struggled on and now she was standing here, it almost felt like a triumph. The red-haired girl slapped her cheeks a few times to really wake herself up. Her name was Orihime Inoue, and she was going home.

xxXXxx

Orihime had made her way from the docks, through the city, and to Las Noches by herself. She'd written in the last letter she'd sent before leaving that she should be arriving home sometime today, but she knew how busy the theater life could get so she hadn't been expecting anyone to meet her as she got off the ship. Orihime had a little money from before she'd left still on her so she'd hired a carriage to take her across town, when Las Noches finally came into view she leaned out the window so far she'd nearly fallen out. The building was a monument unto itself, all white sanded down stone and carved out windows that seemed black from the shadows they cast. The architecture of the building had a very rounded feel to it, the main structure which she knew was the actual theater was a massive dome, surrounded by multiple cylindrical towers, a few of them she knew had balconies on their roofs. Orihime always considered Las Noches to be a bit of a contradiction, on the outside it seemed rather plain, no sculptures or gargoyles adorning the walls and roof lines, no bright eye-catching paint job or gold embellishment. Anyone who didn't know any better might have suspected it was some kind of dessert church or temple from an ancient civilization that had been dropped in the middle of the modern era.

Lugging her suitcase up the steps towards the main entrance was a bit of a challenge for her skinny arms, Orihime realised it might have been a wiser idea to go in through the stage door but Orihime wanted to see the lobby again, she wanted to experience Las Noches the way it was meant to be seen. The inside of Las Noches looked even less like an opera house than the outside did, to Orihime it looked more like a castle, the floors and grand staircase were made out of white and pale yellow marble, the gas lamps that hung from the ceiling and stood at the end of the bannisters had extravagant glass shades, sunlight poured in from the large windows at the front of the building illuminated the foyer, there was gold worked into the moldings and fixtures in the walls giving off an aura of regalness that seemed to give the building itself personality.

After taking a few minutes to admire the place that had only been a memory for the last year, and let it sink in that she was back, Orihime heard music seeping through the wood of the doors leading into the theater. Both hands were occupied with the handle of her suitcase so she heaved her shoulder against the heavy door, it sighed as she pushed it open, like she had awoken it from a nap.

Rehearsals were in full swing music was blaring out from the orchestra pit and actors were busy moving themselves around onstage, trying to familiarise themselves with the choreography of the scene. From the back row Orihime could only pick out two of the actors as people she recognized, and that was completely thanks to their bright blue and turquoise hair, Nel and Grimmjow had joined the theater troupe around the time Orihime was seventeen. As she walked down the aisle and got closer to the stage she could see their posture more clearly, the scene must have been a ballroom or some kind of dance, because Grimmjow was leading Nel around the stage in an imitation of a waltz, Grimmjow was perpetually scowling as always, but the smirk of Nel's face suggested she was saying something to him to egg on one of his usual eruptions. Orihime admitted to being confused by the two's behaviour, they worked well together but seemed on the surface to barely get along, Grimmjow on first meeting him seemed like the kind of man any responsible adult figure in your life would advise you to steer clear of, and Nel spent half her time being wise and sisterly and the other half acting like a… well a child. But over time she'd gotten to know them Orihime liked to think the three of them were on friendly terms. Tucked away in the corner of the stage Orihime saw the familiar faces of Rukia, Nemu, Yoruichi and Soi Fon going through their warm-ups. Yoruichi and Soi Fon were already dancing, spinning around each other and bending their bodies in ways the Orihime knew could make men's (and women's) eyes bug out of their skulls. Nemu was at the ballet bar her form was always perfect, her legs and arms were straight as planks, her usual braid swung over her shoulder as she leaned back and forth, Rukia was on the floor doing stretches, she grabbed her right leg by the calf and began rolling her ankle. Rukia was the first to spot her, sensing a presence amongst the seats, the raven-haired girl flicked her eyes upwards and Orihime knew the moment her friend had spotted her because Rukia's eyes blew up like balloons and she shot up into a sitting position.

"Orihime?!" Rukia exclaimed.

This grabbed the attention of the rest of the dancers, as well as Grimmjow and Nel on the other end of the stage. Orihime ran the rest of the way towards the stage so she could be right in front of her friends.

"Hi Guys!" Orihime grinned.

"What are you doing here?" Rukia asked in shock, now on her knees leaning over the gas lamps that lined the stage.

Orihime felt a sweat drop roll down her temple, letting out a nervous chuckle she set down her suitcase, freeing one hand to scratch at the back of her head, "Not, uh, quite the reaction I was expecting."

"No, no!" Rukia was quick to amend herself, waving her hands in front of her, "I just mean that we weren't expecting you back so soon. Your last letter only said you'd be back sometime this month/p
p style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"Orihime pursed her lips and furrowed her eyebrows together, "But in the last letter I sent I said it should be sometime this week, and I sent just before I left so it must have been right."

A third voice joined into the conversation, "Um, Orihime?" Yoruichi spoke gently, as the Prima Ballerina walked forward and crouched in front of the redhead, unlike Nemu and Rukia who were wearing their practice skirts Yoruichi (like always) was wearing a suit of tight-fitting black spandex. "When you say you sent that letter right before you left, what exactly do you mean?" The older woman asked.

"I mean just that." Orihime assured, "I left it into the post office the day before… I… left. Oh."

A small awkward silence hung in the air as Orihime realized her mistake.

"Well, it's not a big deal." Yoruichi waved her hand as she spoke as if giving official confirmation that what she said was true. "We're all just glad to have you back.

"Absolutely!" Rukia agreed, jumping off the stage to wrap her friend in a hug, Orihime readily returned the gesture, finally feeling some warmth chase away the cold that had been making a home for itself in her chest.

"Welcome home." Nemu said in her usual quiet, even voice.

"It is better to have the full company again." Soi Fon said in a tone that wasn't unkind, this was actually a pretty warm welcome by her standards.

After she and Rukia ended their hug Orihime bent down to pick up her suitcase again, "I should probably go let Mr. Yamomoto know that I'm back."

"Oh don't worry about that." Yoruichi dismissed, "He doesn't need to know your back right away, besides pretty soon I doubt you'll need to tell him anything." The Prima snickered that last part.

"That's only a rumor." Soi Fon argued.

Orihime cocked her head to the side, "What are you talking about?"

But Yoruichi and Soi Fon had fallen into an 'argument' amongst themselves, their arguments usually consisted of Yoruichi teasing Soi Fon and the latter getting flustered.

"Don't mind them," Rukia said from her place at Orihime's side, "I'll tell you at dinner. But Yoruichi's right, you don't have to do anything right now. And you're probably tired from your journey right? So go get some rest.

The idea of lying down on a bed that didn't rock with the waves was tempting, but there was something Orihime wanted to do even more.

The redhead smiled down at her friend, "I think I'll do that."

Rukia informed Orihime that her bed and all her things were still where she'd left them in the ballet dormitory before climbing back onto the stage. Orihime made her way out of the theatre and around the back of the building to the dormitories. Long lines of single wire framed beds filled the small space, it might have looked unorganized and cramped to a stranger but Orihime knew the careful walkways to use if you wanted to make your way around the floor without stepping on anything.

Her bed was pressed up against the back wall next to the one Rukia slept in when she was staying over at the Opera house and not at her family home. Orihime loved where her bed was situated, it was right underneath one of the circular windows that dotted north facing walls which meant that on some nights at just the right time the moon would rise into the center like it was filling up the window, her bed was also tucked behind one of the load bearing posts that also doubled as a coat rack, some might have thought this made the bed cut off or, again, cramped, but Orihime thought it was cosy, like sleeping inside a box.

After unpacking her suitcase and changing into one of her lighter dresses, Orihime grabbed a candle and a matchbook from her small chest of drawers and made her way downstairs to the opera chapel. like most of the rooms that had been made when the Opera house was first built, the chapel seemed to be carved into the stone that the rest of Las Noches was made out of, the was a simple archway for a door with a small cross and the word 'Capilla', painted over the top, a set of stone steps lead you into a downward spiral until you came to the small room that served to cater to whatever religious needs you might have. You might have been lead to believe you were underground entirely if it weren't for the stained glass windows that illuminated the space. The chapel fits the first impression of a desert church, almost completely barren except for the colours of the windows and the iron set of memorial candles held up on iron candelabra. Each one had a small portrait attached to it with a name inscribed onto the frame, each one was in memory of an opera house member that had passed away. Some were as old as the building itself, but one was still new enough that the portrait was almost dust free.

Sora Inoue. The small letters read, they curled around her brothers smiling face. Working the melted down candle out of its holder, Orihime replaced it with the new one she had brought, the match lit with a hiss as she struck it against the strip on the back of the book before lowering it to the wick and watching the wick burn inside the flame.

Orihime said a silent prayer for her brother and sat in silence for a few moments out of respect the memories of those named here, but her thoughts only lingered in that place for so long before the question burned itself into the front of her mind.

Is he here?

Anytime Orihime had left the opera house for longer than a few days, or she hadn't been able to break away from rehearsals or her friends long enough to come down here by herself, a small part of her always feared that the next time she descended the stone steps she would find herself alone in these chapel walls. With that thought the air suddenly felt thicker, making Orihime afraid to open her mouth and speak, what if she called out and no answer came.

"You've returned."

All worries and anxieties shattered at the familiar sound of that voice. The one that seemed to resonate from no particular spot in the room yet felt like it was all around her. Even though she wasn't sure if he could see it, her face broke out into a happy grin. Her teacher, her angel of music.

"Yes, Angel." She responded.

For years this chapel had held a secret importance to Orihime, it was the one secret she'd ever kept in her life, even from Sora. He and others had tried to get her to confess the name of the person who had been giving her singing lessons but after she'd shown her resolution to continually wave off their attempts, they eventually gave up.

The voice was deep and melodic, the first time Orihime had heard him she'd been scared for a number of reasons, one of them being that he always sounded like he was just a bit upset when he spoke at first it was usually only halfway into their lessons that he sounded more relaxed. And even then his tone didn't give you a clue to the musical talent that was attached to that voice.

"Did you continue your practice?" He asked her plainly, the angel wasn't really one for meandering or small talk. He always spoke so directly.

Orihime swallowed and nipped at her bottom lip, "Almost the entire time I was gone." She told him honestly. She hadn't been able to practice everyday but when she found the time she would seclude herself in an empty space, close her eyes and pretend to be right back here, with her unseen tutor listening to her progress, sometimes she even found herself doing this as she curled up in bed when she's struggled to fall asleep, quietly singing the songs he'd taught her to herself and imagining this could summon him across the seas to her.

"Hmm." Was the angels only response.

Orihime offered up one of her bubbly laughs, getting ready to start rambling about the times she had practiced when she was away, when the angel spoke again, cutting her off before she even started.

"Show me." Was all he said.

"Pardon?"

"Show me how you've improved."

Not if she'd improved, how. That small bit of confidence was enough to make Orihime suck in a deep breath of air before launching into her scales. Her voice had been sweet sounding but wavering before she'd met the angel, now the sound of her mezzo-soprano filled up the room and bounced off the walls. At the end, Orihime pressed her hand to her stomach to feel her body clench as she stretched out the final note. When she stopped singing the room felt quieter than it had before, as her breathing returned to normal, Orihime awaited the angel's response. As the second's tick by she found herself wishing again that she had a face to look at, expressions to decern and help her decipher her teacher's thoughts went he went silent like this. So she slid her eyes to a faded mural on the far wall, at one time it might have shown a scene from the bible or some such but so much of the paint had faded or chipped away that all that was left visible was, fittingly, a single angel. Orihime often found herself looking to the image when she and her teacher conversed.

"Perfect." Came the whispered voice of the angel. Orihime perked at the sound of that one word, thinking she might have misheard him, "Your talent hasn't wavered." The angel spoke again quickly as if he too had just realized what he said.

Orihime giggled a little, imagining what expression the angel might have on his face. "I'm glad to hear that."

"Sing again." The angel instructed. This was how it would go sometimes if he said something he apparently hadn't thought about or Orihime asked him a question he didn't want to answer.

"What would you like me to sing? I saw the posters outside, the opera house is performing Hannibal." Orihime suggested.

"I have been listening to them rehearse Hannibal for months. You've been gone for a year., I want to hear you sing.

Orihime blushed a little, then she realized what he was requesting and smiled again at the angel on the wall. It had become a sort of game between the two of them, the angel often taught her foreign songs from far away lands, as a sort of thank you Orihime had 'composed' a few short songs of her own, simple things that could probably be sung along to the tune of a music box, but she had wanted to show him how grateful she was for his lessons, and Orihime felt that creating something musical of her own might have been the best way to do so. And apparently it had worked, because since then the angel had often asked her to sing those same songs for him, there's was never any consistency to his requests for them, sometimes he would ask to hear them one lesson after another, sometimes it would be weeks apart, and sometimes he asked to hear them before they even started their lessons, or even when he had nothing to say to her but just wanted to listen to her voice.

So Orihime prepared herself, repositioning herself so she sat directly in front of her angel picture, and lifting one hand to touch the flower pins that were back in her hair.

"Angel of Music,

Guide and guardian, grant to me your glory,

Angel of music, speak I listen,

Secret and strange Angel."