Bite At The Moon – Chap. 1
A/N: This is my second UlquiHime fanfic (the other one is Days of Las Noches).
Aizen, Ichigo, Rukia, many of the Soul Reapers and Arrancar will appear as supporting characters. There will be no Orihime pairings or love interests other than with Ulquiorra in this AU.
(Originally posted 6/30/2013.)
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"His fever is broken, thanks be to the King." The woman drew back from the bed where a redheaded toddler lay drenched in sweat. She rubbed a gaunt hand over her careworn face; her shoulders sagged as the tension of the past hours finally began to fade. On the dresser, a single candle guttered, throwing flickering shadows over the bare walls and boarded-up window in the small room. The irregular shadow of a ceiling fixture wavered, grew and shrank over the rough plywood.
The woman let out a long sigh and brushed a strand of gray hair off her forehead before squatting back on her heels. She glanced up at the young woman sitting on the other side of the bed, smiling, long tendrils of auburn hair escaping her hairpins. "We can't thank you enough, Healer, for all you've done for us." She clasped her hands together and brought them to her forehead in a gesture of deep respect.
The young woman beamed. "I'm so glad I was able to find the proper medicine for your son," she said. "He should sleep peacefully now and recover fully." She started to pack up her bottles of herbs and medicines and replace them in her satchel. Then she got to her feet with a soft sigh, placed her hands on her back and stretched wearily. It had been a long day and night.
"Miss Inoue, surely you will spend the night here," the woman said. Concern wrinkled her face as Orihime reached for her shawl and picked up her bag.
Orihime shook her head. "My neighbor is due to give birth to her first any moment now. I can't risk being away another night."
The man who had been standing at the door, silent and watchful, frowned. "It's not safe to be down at street level in this area after dark. The Captain-Commander's forces don't patrol here, and we've heard reports of increased attacks these past weeks."
Orihime gave them both a bright smile. "Don't worry!" she assured them. "I've often crossed from building to building at night. With my healer's badge, even those who don't follow the King's law know to let me pass."
The man still looked concerned. "At least let me escort you home, Miss Inoue." The gray-haired woman looked up, a hint of fear in her eyes, but said nothing.
The healer shook her head again. "That's not necessary," she said. "It wouldn't be safe for you." She placed the last bottle back in her canvas bag with a soft clink and pulled the zipper shut, slinging the bag over her shoulder as she stood up. "I'll leave this tincture with you." She indicated a small bottle on the dresser. "Give him water if he asks for it—make sure it's clean," she cautioned. "Four drops in clean water every two hours until his fever is back to normal, but no solid food tomorrow, okay?" She met the woman's eyes. "Send a runner to get me if the fever spikes again."
"Yes, of course, Miss Inoue."
The man pushed himself off the wall where he had been leaning. "If you're set on going home by yourself, I'll at least take you to the door of our building."
Orihime glanced up at him and nodded. "Thank you. I would appreciate that."
They went out into the main room of the small apartment, where two shabby couches piled high with dirty rags and metal odds and ends were pushed up against several more boarded up windows. The heavy steel door, its dull brown paint flaking, had been reinforced with multiple deadbolts. The man checked the peephole before he opened the door, then stepped out himself first, one hand on the gun in a holster at his belt.
This building was well-to-do, Orihime noted as they passed through the long hallway. A dim light flickered halfway down the corridor, indicating that electricity still flowed to the building. That was rare in this part of town. The man even had a flashlight, which he switched on to light their way down the ten flights of stairs to street level.
There were three men standing guard in the lobby, one of them sitting behind a submachine gun pointed at the main entrance. They looked up, eyes watchful and alert, as Orihime and the man exited the stairway door. They relaxed at the sight of her companion.
"Jinta doing okay, Tessai?" one asked.
The tall man broke out in a grin. "Yes, thank the King and Miss Inoue here."
The others all smiled. One, a dark-skinned man in a black jacket, caught Orihime's eye. "Be careful out there, ma'am."
"I know." Orihime's smile was bright and reassuring. "I've done this before, you know!"
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The night air was cool and pleasant as Orihime hurried along the dark streets beneath the looming buildings on either side. Her florescent orange badge hung on a string around her neck, and she held her flashlight in her hand, ready to turn it on and shine it on the badge if there was any problem. But she usually found it was best to hug the shadows and walk quietly, preferring not to be seen by any nighttime prowlers. She knew the way like the back of her hand. Her own building was less than ten minutes away, and the darkness was her friend as her soft shoes made no sound on the cracked pavement. She walked fast, close to the walls in case someone was watching from one of the black, gaping windows overlooking the street, her shawl covering her bright auburn hair.
The city was absolutely silent, as usual. When she was very young, her grandma had told her stories of the old days, of the sounds of the city, the honking vehicles and the crowds of people who all carried music in their pockets. But now music boxes were rare and only the Captain-Commander possessed vehicles that could move under their own power.
Her grandma was dead now, of the red plague which had passed through Karakura Town five years ago, taking not only the elderly woman who had once been so vigorous, but also Orihime's older brother Sora, who had taken care of her after their parents had been killed in a neighborhood skirmish.
Since then she had been responsible for herself. She had been apprenticed to her grandma, who had also been a healer, and fortunately she had an excellent memory and clear sight. She had inherited her grandmother's trove of medicines and old books, and since she had been taught to read at an early age, she could read the arcane formulas in the books, recipes filled with words for things which no longer existed, and could decipher the ancient text on the small plastic bottles, the precious medicines from an earlier age of plenty. She lived alone in her grandmother's old apartment on the 17th floor of their building, and everyone there looked out for her. She smiled to herself in the dark. She had a good community. They all helped each other, and she was glad when she could use what she knew of the ancient knowledge that was still allowed under the King's edicts.
Suddenly, there was a commotion in the street ahead of her: an odd, arrhythmic thumping and the flickering, batlike movement of large, dark figures against the gleaming stone of one of the old edifices. Quietly, she shrank back behind some bushes growing out of the rubble beneath an overhanging balcony and pressed herself up against the wall. It was always best not to be seen.
Peering out from behind sheltering leaves, she tried to resolve the figures in the street. There were about seven of them, all wearing close-fitting black outfits. She kept her breathing quiet. They would most likely pass on, on their way to whatever business—or criminal activity—they were up to. She only hoped they hadn't seen her. While it was true that her healer's badge gave her some immunity, some of the outlaws who roamed the ruined streets at night could be unpredictable.
One of them loped closer to her hiding place. In the dim light, she could see that half of his face was covered by what appeared to be a bone mask. She stifled her involuntary intake of breath.
They were Arrancar.
Not just ordinary outlaws or gang members, but humans who had augmented themselves illegally with tech forbidden by the King and his priests. She pressed her fingers to her mouth in terror. She needed to report this! The Arrancar sought to break down the boundaries between human and demon. They were dangerous, and if half the stories told about them were true, their evil could destroy her world. If they were invading the city, the Captain-Commander needed to know.
Horror swept through her as one of the Arrancar leaped up onto a wall, where his hands and feet clung, fastened to the sheer vertical surface like some kind of oversized insect. Orihime's eyes widened in shock at this clear evidence of illegal augmentation, something she had never seen before. He leaped upward again, seeking a higher vantage point, clinging to the bare granite of the building thirty feet up. From there, his head slowly turned back and forth.
Orihime shivered. These men were worse than the usual run of criminals, who at least usually still followed most of the King's tenets. The Arrancar were heretics, outcasts, breaking the most sacred taboos of the King's religion. It was forbidden to use any of the extreme technology that had caused the great wars that had destroyed civilization. The list of allowed tech was detailed in thick books kept at the Captain-Commander's palace, and his council of priests, known as the Central 46, ruled on all violations.
The punishment for using illegal technology was death. If any of the Captain-Commander's patrols found these Arrancar, they would be shot on sight. They would not take kindly to a healer who was licensed by the King knowing of their existence or location. Her badge would mean nothing to the Arrancar.
Orihime tried to hold as still as possible. She had heard that some of the illegal augmentations could allow people to see in the dark, to hear the tiniest motion, or perhaps even the blood rushing in one's veins. If so, she was lost.
One of the men slowly turned his masked face in her direction.
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A/N: Reviews are always appreciated.