Author's notes: I recently got an IRL friend into Bleach and successfully convinced her that IshiHime was her OTP (yay!) but then she challenged me to write a sugar-free, non-diabetes-inducing IshiHime angsty fic, because their interactions are (nearly) always funny and adorable. Funnily enough, my first response was a reunion fic, but she isn't up-to-date so I decided to do a post-HM AU instead. Also, I don't think I could have topped Kubo's reunion scene, I was on the verge of tears for nearly my entire shift at work afterwards.

So, just in case today's chapter wasn't angsty enough, have some more sadness. Because I'm a bit of a troll like that. ^_^

This fic includes VERY unrequited IshiHime and Uryu/Tatsuki friendship, because I like the idea of Orihime's two best friends, who are also dragons, being friends themselves.

Returning from Hueco Mundo without Orihime had been the most difficult thing Uryu had ever done.

After all of the effort he, Ichigo, Chad, Rukia and Renji had put in to traversing universes to bring her back, it had been quite the gut punch to watch her being torn apart so callously by Ulquiorra's Cero Oscuras, every atom in her body thoroughly oxidising and scattering in the Hueco Mundo wind like a common sandstorm. He didn't think he'd ever be able to successfully bleach that heartbreaking image from his brain. So impossible had it been to locate any part of Orihime's body, once he and Ichigo had tag-teamed a brutal take-down of the guilty Espada, that after a couple of hours searching the surrounding area they had been forced to give up, rendezvous with their friends and deliver the bad news; that the mission to rescue Orihime had been a resounding failure.

And this was how Uryu came to be sitting in front of an empty coffin, so motionless as to be mistaken for catatonic by any passer-by.

"Ishida."

Uryu blinked, but didn't turn around. There was no need to; he recognised the voice. Then again, that didn't mean he was pleased to hear it right now.

Staring straight ahead, Uryu fixed his unfocused eyes the floor in front of the coffin as the victim's best friend, Tatsuki Arisawa, walked up until he was aware that she was standing right next to him. Why couldn't she just see that he wanted to take his one chance to be alone with Orihime while he was still able to?

"Ishida," Tatsuki's steady, if subdued, voice repeated.

Uryu closed his eyes, doing his best to block her out. He didn't want to have to talk to her again. It had been bad enough explaining that he hadn't been strong enough to protect Orihime, to save her, the first time.

"Ishida!" Tatsuki shouted, and he felt a moderate thump on his back. Had she just hit him? "Don't ignore me!"

Uryu finally looked away from Orihime's coffin and regarded Tatsuki with resignation. He was startled to see that the ordinarily solidly-assured karate champion looked years older than her age, her sorrowful eyes downcast and her cheeks hollowed. A week after their return, and she looked awful. Uryu hoped he didn't look like that.

"You look a fright," Tatsuki pointed out, as though she had read his mind. "Have you even eaten anything in the last week?"

"I had some toast yesterday morning," Uryu eventually responded, staring right past her as he found that he still wasn't able to meet her eyes.

Tatsuki snorted. "That would explain why you look like a skeleton. You need to eat, Uryu, you can't just punish yourself. It's over. Nobody blames you for what happened."

"I do," he replied, quickly, turning his head away and returning to staring at the empty coffin again. "It was my fault for not protecting her, I'm as guilty as anybody, and I'll never be able to make up for it..."

"Get over it, Ishida!" Tatsuki demanded, although there was no real anger in her voice. "If it'll make you feel any better, I was just about to call in at Orihime's flat to start packing away her things. Do you want to come with me? You can apologise to Sora, her brother, if you feel the need to."

Uryu forced his gaze from the coffin and regarded Tatsuki with pleading eyes. "Please. I'd like that."

When Uryu and Tatsuki had arrived outside Orihime's flat, Uryu was surprised to see that the outside light had been left on.

"Rangiku..." he muttered, remembering Orihime's temporary flatmate-from-hell and earning himself a curious look from Tatsuki.

"Rangiku?" she asked, digging inside a pocket and withdrawing a key which she proceeded to place in the lock.

Uryu sighed. "Never mind."

The key turned and the door creaked open on its hinges, revealing a narrow passage into what looked like a living area. Uryu followed Tatsuki as she strode into the flat with all the confidence of somebody who had visited a million times before.

Glancing around, Uryu's gaze was drawn to all sorts of objects; a small, stitched-up bear on a shelf, a selection of comedy DVDs scattered across a coffee-table, an assortment of cushions he recalled Orihime sewing in the handicrafts club strewn messily across the worn but comfortable-looking sofa against the wall.

The flat still smelled like her. Uryu closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of vanilla, flowers and honey.

"Sora's shrine is just over there."

Tatsuki's voice brought Uryu out of his reverie and he opened his eyes to see her pointing towards a picture of a young man on a short table. "I'll just... I'll just be packing up her clothes in the bedroom, okay?"

Uryu nodded silently, his eyes still firmly fixed on the photograph of Sora Inoue. Once he was aware of the sound of a door shutting, Uryu knelt down in front of the picture, scrutinising the man behind the pane of glass in astonishment as he realised the striking family resemblance. Although Sora's features were older, more mature, his expression of kindness and care was exactly the same as Orihime's had been. There was no doubt about it; this was her brother.

It suddenly occurred to Uryu that he had no idea what to say to Sora, what could possibly be good enough to earn the man's forgiveness.

Bah, he didn't deserve forgiveness.

Uryu took a deep breath and decided on the truth.

"I love your sister."

He blinked, surprised by his own admission. Uryu had been aware for months that he would have done anything for Orihime, that he couldn't say no to her (that had, after all, been the trigger for her death on the roof of Las Noches). Now that he thought about it, Uryu supposed that meant he did love her; hadn't he wished he could take her place instead as he had watched the charred remnants of her body scattering in the breeze? He would have gladly given his own life if it meant that she could continue living, continue smiling. He had even told Ichigo so much when the other boy had stupidly ordered him to shield Orihime with his own life if necessary, as if Uryu even needed to be told.

And now she was gone, and she would never know how she was loved.

This thought brought a tear to Uryu's eye.

"I love her, and I-I couldn't save her."

The reality of this statement came crashing down around Uryu and the tears leaked out, streaming in rivulets down his thin cheeks. He clutched at the fabric of his trousers, his head lowered, as his shoulders shook with grief, and he wept openly, the tears falling to the floor and leaving little circular dots on the carpet.

Uryu's sobbing must have been noisier than he realised, because a minute later he felt an hand on his shoulder and knew that Tatsuki had re-entered the room without him noticing. He found that, strangely, he didn't seem to mind Orihime's friend witnessing this. Tatsuki was more upset than she let on, too; she wouldn't spread stories about him.

"I'm so sorry," he eventually choked out at Sora's picture.

Removing his glasses and wiping his eyes with a sleeve, Uryu stood up and saw that Tatsuki's eyes were also brimming with tears.

"If it makes you feel any better, Ishida," she said, quietly, "you would have had my approval. Sora's, too."

This was too much. Collapsing into noisy sobs again, Uryu was vaguely aware that Tatsuki had wound her arms around his torso in a reassuring hug, although whether she was trying to comfort him or herself he couldn't tell.

"Hey," she whispered. "She could still be around somewhere, like that time with the chain and her brother. I don't know. I don't really remember. But it's possible, right?"

Uryu shook his head faintly. No, that couldn't happen. Hadn't Ichigo said that the day she had been abducted he had woken up and smelled that she had visited and healed him during the day? Orihime had set her affairs in order before leaving for Hueco Mundo, leaving no unfinished business. She would not be chained to this world.

He tried to conjure up the mental image of Orihime's smiling face somewhere in the Soul Society, but without confirmation that her soul was alive and well somewhere Uryu found that he was unable to stop his eyes from stinging, as though the sandstorms generated by Hueco Mundo's sharp winds had followed him back to the World of the Living, a stark reminder that the dust motes of Orihime's body would forever be lost among the infinite desert of an inaccessible world.