Wow! Thank you so much for the overwhelming response. Much appreciated. Just to remind you that after this chapter, this fic will be on hold because I'll be going away on a hiatus soon. Expect at least one update from LYTO and possibly one from TTH before I leave. Once I come back, updates will be more streamlined.
The explanation of words and some other important notes are at the end of the chapter.
Beta: my beautiful friend Cerice Belle
Chapter 2
Where the heck am I?
(Ittai koko wa doko?)
The strange woman had fainted, yet again. It was fortunate that Ulquiorra held her for she would have collapsed on to the ground otherwise. Now what was he supposed to do? When he had gone to the shrine this morning, he had not expected anything out of the ordinary to happen. But then, as he sat with his head bowed in a prayer, a bright light shone seemingly out of nowhere making him hold up a hand in front of his face to shield his eyes. The light burned bright for a few moments before diminishing. To his immense surprise, when he lowered his hand, he found himself staring at the unconscious form of a woman who wasn't there before. The shrine was small and there was no way he could have missed an entire human being lying face down in front of him. Ulquiorra looked around, trying to figure out where she had come from. The only entrance to the shrine was behind him, so if someone were to have left her here, they would have had to cross Ulquiorra. He was certain that no one had passed by him.
The only other alternative was that she had somehow appeared there. It did not make any sense, but Ulquiorra wasn't able to come up with any other possible way that the woman had landed there. If the manner of her appearance was bizarre, so was her attire. Although her clothing was torn in several places, she was dressed in a style he had never seen before. She was dressed in what appeared to underclothes, only it was blue in color. He also spotted a brown kimono on her, only it looked much shorter than the standard kimono, coming only up to her waist. She also had on what looked like the top part of a Hitatare, only it was white, short and didn't have any obi.
He had just been examining the strange fabric when she stirred. He retracted his hand just as she woke up. It hadn't escaped his notice that she looked badly injured, exhausted and disorientated. The conversation that followed was even more nonsensical. She spoke a peculiar dialect that he was unfamiliar with, which was saying something as he was a very well-travelled man.
Assuming that she was unwell, which, given her current condition would not be surprising at all; Ulquiorra suggested that he should feed her. She seemed excited at the prospect and started to get up but lost her balance. It was only thanks to his lightning reflexes that she didn't hit the ground. Since she looked like she was about to collapse again, Ulquiorra offered her support and walked her out of the shrine. That's when she let out a gasp, looked around frantically, screamed something in a language he had never heard and then fainted again.
Ulquiorra stood there for a few moments, debating with himself as to whether or not to abandon the woman here at the shrine. Deciding that the least he could do was to give her the food he had promised her, he scooped her up bridal style and started walking home.
"What is that?" Aaroniero Arruruerie pointed to the west with his wakizashi (1) that he'd been sharpening. The four people around him looked at him and then looked at the direction he was pointing at. Like one being, they gasped, their eyes widened.
"Is that … ULQUIORRA?" Yammy screamed.
"Tell me I am dreaming," Grimmjow muttered, "This has to be a dream."
Szayel shook his head, "It's not a dream Grimmjow, although I share your incredulity."
Nnoitra remained speechless, his mouth hung open as he gaped at the sight in front of him. Long moments of stunned silence later, the tall man erupted into raucous laughter.
Meanwhile the subject of their disbelief and amusement walked into the courtyard where the five sat. Ignoring the questioning glances, Ulquiorra calmly crossed the courtyard and continued to walk to his quarter. The others exchanged quick glances and reached an unspoken agreement to follow him. The quintet maintained a distance from their nakama (2) as he walked past all the quarters to his own, that was situated at the very end. He used his body to slide open the shoji (3) and walked in. Moments later his nakama were at the door watching him put the unconscious woman on the tatami mat (4). Then, as if he had done nothing stranger than walking in a garden, the black-haired man walked out of his quarters and glanced expressionlessly at the five stunned faces.
"Do I need to ask?" Grimmjow spoke, "Or is my face doing it for me?"
Ulquiorra raised a brow, "Your face looks like it always does; bewildered."
Szayel snorted, while Yammy voiced the question that was on everyone's mind, "Who is that woman?"
"I don't know," Ulquiorra replied as he prised his katana (5) out of his obi and started to walk to the courtyard.
"That is not an answer Ulquiorra," Aaroniero said pacing after him.
Without looking at his comrades he replied, "It is the truth."
"Alright, so where did you find her?" Szayel asked sitting next Ulquiorra who was now at the whetstone.
He took his katana out of his scabbard and started to sharpen it. After a brief pause he replied, "At the shrine."
"What? You picked up some woman you found at the shrine? Am I the only one who thinks that is odd?" Grimmjow asked incredulously.
"No," Nnoitra spoke finally, grinning from ear to ear, "Our Ulquiorra has finally grown some balls and become a man."
Ulquiorra looked at him, "Why is it that whenever you open your mouth, you spout filth?"
Nnoitra let out another rambunctious laugh, "What? That body was made to be bedded. Don't tell me you didn't notice?"
Ulquiorra ignored the comment.
"Why is she unconscious? And she looked hurt, what happened?" Yammy asked.
"Again I don't know," Ulquiorra answered. He then proceeded to tell them exactly where and under what circumstances he had found the woman. A stunned silence followed his tale.
"If I didn't know that you don't possess an ounce of imagination," Szayel said after a while, "I would have said you are making it all up."
"He may not be," Aaroniero mused, "You know there is a tale about how that stretch of land is magical."
"I … I am strangely at loss for words," Grimmjow muttered.
"That is a first," Ulquiorra retorted.
Ignoring him Grimmjow continued, "It almost sounds like she was sent here by the Gods."
"Yes," Nnoitra had apparently recovered from the shock, "The Gods are telling you to lose your virginity Ulquiorra."
Ulquiorra was about to respond when a loud and feminine scream issued from his quarter.
When Orihime opened her eyes, she found herself in a strange room that seemed to be built like old Japanese houses, like the ones she would see in movies or write in her novels. Startled, she sat up and looked around. She couldn't spot a single electronic item or a gadget. No phones, TVs, iPods, laptops, appliances – nothing. Not even an electric socket. She thought back to the man dressed in the Hitatare and wondered if she had somehow been saved by some kind of Japanese equivalent of the Amish people. Regardless, she had to get back to Karakura Town. Her friends might be getting worried. After all she had sort of dumped them in her inebriated state.
She grabbed her purse that lay next to her and dug out her iPhone but there was no network. Sighing she stood up but the exhaustion made her sway slightly. She threw out one of her arms but there was nothing to grab on to. She was about to step out of the room when her eyes fell on something on the floor. She narrowed her eyes and bent down slightly. It was a greenish, rope like thing. Curious Orihime nudged it and it moved. It moved?!
She screamed at the top of her lungs, there was a snake on the floor! She was going to die! She didn't want to die, not yet. She was too young to die. She was still a virgin for God's sake! She heard some footsteps and within moments, six men barged into her view. Scanning the group her eyes quickly found the pale man from the shrine.
"S-s- snake!" she pointed a trembling finger at the reptile.
The man frowned for a moment then his eyes followed her finger and fell on the snake. He looked at the snake and then back at Orihime, completely nonplussed.
"It's a snake!" Orihime screamed.
"Yes I know," the pale man replied.
It was Orihime's turn to be baffled, "What do you mean 'I know', it's a snake damn it!"
"I don't understand why you are making such a fuss, woman?" the pale man replied.
"That snake … it'll kill me," Orihime squeaked.
The man looked at her expressionlessly, "It is harmless."
"I- I don't understand what you're saying?" Orihime shook her head.
The man sighed, walked in the chamber, bent down and picked up the snake by its hood. Then nonchalantly walked out and set it on the ground where it slithered away. Orihime stood gaping at the man who was back at the door, next to the five men who were speechlessly staring at the scene ensuing in front of them.
Orihime heaved deeply, with a hand placed over her palpitating heart. Finally she calmed down enough to speak up.
"So, where exactly am I?"
The tall man grinned toothily, bowed and walked into the chamber, "What, you don't know where you are?"
Although she didn't understand what he was saying, the way the man was looking at her, she felt a small shiver run down her spine. She knew that look; it was one full of lechery. Inadvertently she took a step back.
"Umm …," she looked at the pale man who was still at the entrance, "I … Umm … you said you'll give me food. I'm hungry," just to be sure that he understood, she added hand movements by placing one on her stomach and the other pointing to her mouth.
The black-haired man nodded. He walked into the room to a small table, picked up some earthen-ware dishes and placed them in front of her. Orihime sat down and started to wolf down the food presented to her. Unbeknownst to her, the remaining men had stepped into the room and gathered around her. They were eyeing her with a mixture of interest and curiosity.
Finally the man dressed in a kimono and a pink bandana spoke up, "So what's your name?"
"What?" she asked.
The man seemed to understand that she was having trouble understanding them, so he repeated his question slowly, enunciating every word. This time Orihime understood.
"Oh!" she chewed the food hastily before she spoke, "Orihime Inoue."
Her hitatare-clad savior asked the next question, duplicating his friend's technique, "Where are you from?"
Orihime smiled brightly, "Karakura. Karakura Town. How far is it from here?"
The muscular man with a blue hair ornaments leaned forward, "What?"
"Karakura Town," she repeated slowly, "How far is it from here?"
"Where exactly is that?" the tall, burly, and bald man asked.
"What do you mean?" Orihime asked the food in front of her forgotten.
The pink-bandana man answered her question, "We have travelled far and wide. There is no such place around here."
She looked at each of them quizzically, as if waiting for one of them to say that the pink-bandana man was joking. When no one contradicted him, she continued, "Come on! Karakura Town! The one that's neighboring to Taketoyo!** The two towns are connected via Highway 71 that circumvents that forest that's said to be magical. I got lost in that forest last night."
The men exchanged blank looks. It was then that something else struck Orihime. Each man was dressed like a Samurai, replete with silk Hiatatares or Kimonos, an obi, two swords and a pair of waraji (6) or geta (7). She decided that her earlier assumption of these people being the Japanese version of the Amish must be wrong. They wouldn't be carrying weapons so nonchalantly. There had to be only one other explanation.
"You guys are the crew of some historic drama is it?" she asked earning a fresh wave of blank looks. "Whoever is in charge of your costume needs to be fired pronto. I mean where are the top-knots? Shouldn't Samurais wear top-knots?"
"Aizen-sama is lenient that way," the thin, mustached man answered slowly, "He has given us the freedom to wear our hair the way we want to.*"
"Aizen who?" Orihime asked, "Your director?"
"Our Daimyo," the tall lanky man answered. Orihime had almost forgotten about him but now she found him standing in such a way that he could peer down her cleavage with apparent ease. Normally Orihime would have stood up to cut out the free show, but this man was so freaking tall, it wouldn't have made the slightest of difference. She pulled her tattered jacket closer and absently rued the mutilation of one of her favorite item of clothing.
Meanwhile the man with the blue hair ornaments leaned forward and touched the hem of her jacket, "I don't believe I have ever seen this kind of clothing. Where is this from?"
Orihime turned to look at him and then swatted his had away. He had spoken so fast she hadn't understood all of what he had said but she knew he was talking about her attire, "Hey, stop judging!" she snapped, "I spent the night trudging through a damn forest with just a pocket-torch to guide me through. I look a bit disheveled, yes, but I won't have you insulting my fashion sense. I'm a fashion journalist you know!"
Although currently she hated her job, she still had a sense of pride. It was strange but true.
Belatedly the pink-bandana man spotted the oversight on their part, "Apologies," he said with a smile, "we haven't introduced ourselves. I am Szayel Aporro Granz."
The huge, bald man pointed to himself and declared loudly, "I am Yammy Llargo."
The thin, mustached man bowed, "Aaroniero Arruruerie."
"I am Grimmjow Jagerjaquez," the man with the blue hair ornaments added.
"Nnoitra Jiruga," the tall lanky man leered.
Finally her pale-skinned savior gave his name, "Ulquiorra Schiffer."
AUTHOR'S NOTE
1 Wakizashi: Short-sword.
2 Nakama: Friend/ comrade
3 Shoji: The Japanese architecture relied heavily on slender pillars and rafters with sliding inner partitions and outer walls. The sliding outer walls were called Shoji.
4 Tatami mat: A mat made from rice straw used as a flooring material.
5 Katana: A long sword used by the Samurais
6 Waraji: Sandals
7 Geta: Wooden clogs
* Traditionally a Samurai was supposed to wear his hair in a top knot. However, to stay true to the Bleach cannon characters I have changed that detail. Szayel and Grimmjow do not have pink and blue hair respectively. I altered their appearance slightly in keeping with the time. Aaroniero doesn't look like Kaien and by extension Ichigo. I'm imagining him as a thin black haired-man, average height and a mustache.
**The names of the places are entirely fctional and any resemblance to a real place is purely coincidental.
