A/N: HEY CAT WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING? WHY YOU STARTING A NEW STORY? WHERE IS MAH GRIMMNEL? WHERE IS MAH FAX?
Yeah, sorry, but this is like…counting down to Christmas, and stuff!
I know there are a lot of other holidays but this is what I know, and Western traditions are also what I know…so…
Anyway I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: Do not, have not, nor will ever own Bleach…(it would suck ass)
Please review! They are loved!
"Oh my goodness!"
Ulquiorra was sitting on the couch, flipping absently through a magazine. He paused in his turning of the page, looking at the woman, who was lying on her stomach on the floor, looking at her own magazine. She had been completely absorbed in it until just a moment before when she had let out her cry.
She pushed herself up and looked at him in happy surprise. "It's December!"
He looked at her, feeling a twinge of disbelief. "Well, yes, woman. It is the fourth of December. My birthday was a few days ago."
"Yeah," Orihime Inoue fretted, "but I was so excited for your birthday that I didn't consider the other good things in December!"
Ulquiorra looked at her wordlessly. "Continue," he ordered her.
"Well, well…there's Christmas!" she said. "That's the big one!"
Ulquiorra paused, wracking his brain for any recollections of the term. Somewhere in the back recesses of his mind it rang a distant, dusty bell. Other than that he came up empty. He set down his magazine reluctantly and sat back, preparing himself for yet another lesson on some other strange human culture.
"And what, exactly, is that." His voice was flat.
She settled on her knees on the cold wood floor of her apartment, clasping her hands under her chin. "Well, it's a holiday a lot of people celebrate in our world," she said. "It's on December twenty-fifth and it's a religious holiday, but there is a lot more to it too. It's a time for family and giving gifts and eating warm food and being one with Santa Claus!"
"…Santa…?" Ulquiorra's voice trailed off for a moment, before he shook his head and decided to move on. "And this is a holiday you enjoy?"
Orihime nodded happily. "Yes! I love Christmas! I love giving presents to people, I save up all year! I have to get a present for Kurosaki-kun, Ishida-kun, Sado-kun, Rukia-chan, Tatsuki-chan, Mahana-chan, Ryo-chan, Michiru-chan…um…and you, Ulquiorra-kun!"
Ulquiorra shifted in his seat, not sure what to say. Fortunately, Orihime had never really needed anyone to help her move along a conversation.
"Ooh – but I also love making gingerbread houses!" she exclaimed dreamily. "All those candies and frosting and warm gingerbread! And decorating cookies, and caroling, and ice skating, and sitting by the fire, and all sorts of things~ Oh, Ulquiorra, aren't you so excited?"
Ulquiorra turned his expressionless eyes at her. "Is there a reason you celebrate this …holiday?" he asked her.
"Well," she said, "there are religious reasons, but that's not why I celebrate. I love to curl up on my couch on Christmas and sing along to my CD and eat enough cookies to burst!"
Ulquiorra studied her. He didn't know enough about the holiday to make a legitimate judgment, but from what he had heard her say, it sounded like a holiday that was meant to be spent with others. A family, or friends, or something. A holiday not meant to be spent alone, eating cookies and ultimately feeling sorry for yourself.
He had been living with her for a short time only but he had already started to feel slightly more sensitive towards the girl. On top of the dome that day, that day that was simultaneously the best and the worst of his life, the day when this woman had miraculously – and for reasons he still could not fathom – rejected his death…it was a surprise to him. A miracle. Aizen had been defeated, imprisoned by the Soul Society soon after, and the woman had somehow convinced him – and Soul Society – that he should come stay with her.
Here he was about a month later, sitting on her couch like he belonged there. But hearing her talk about all these customs – so natural, so ordinary to her, but to him it was like speaking a whole new language. Just like every other custom they had here. Take a few days ago, when she had insisted on celebrating his birthday with cake and candles and singing and even a shyly-wrapped gift.
He didn't understand any of it.
But, he thought, as he watched her eagerly return to her magazine, flopping back down on the floor and kicking her feet enthusiastically in the air, he didn't need to. She would help him, every step of the way.
"We can start our shopping tomorrow," she said happily, "does that sound good?"
Ulquiorra agreed and picked up his magazine again, opening back up to his page.
Yes, she would be there every step of the way.