Click..click..clack. Their feet scuffled through the hallways. Orihime walked a few paces behind him, holding her new identification badge and a few pristine manilla folders in her folded arms. Every few steps, she would shuffle the crinkled forms between her arms, pressing them close to her breast as she passed by each open door way.
As much as she tried she couldn't deny it. Death's stench crawled from every open door, seeping like an otherworldly presence into the hallway. Holding her arms closer she couldn't dare dream what it might appear in the shadows of the night. How easy a roaming patient could transform into an angel of death in the eerie darkness.
Walking without presence she soon collided into a cold rod-like object. An open door. Peering in again the waif smell of mothballs invaded her nostrils. At least a slightly more pleasant smell then the sickening scent of a stagnant body. She would adjust she told herself. Baring her shoulders she quickened her pace catching up to her guide as he finished explaining the history of the building and its many reconstructions.
Her "chauffeur" as the director had coyly explained him was talking about something or other. The information was probably imperative but, for the life of her she couldn't begin to make out what he was saying.She didn't like his voice, snaking up her spine it summoned deep chills from the pit of her stomach. No, more than dislike she couldn't bare the playful coldness that captured his every word. Shaking her head she forced herself to engage and listen.
Not for the first time she was staring at him. He was a gangly man at best, although it was difficult to tell with the large lab coat he wore. A Doctor he corrected when they had left the office although not minding being called her personal chauffeur. After all he admitted at the summit of their tour, aiding such a lovely girl was pleasant. She squirmed at the memory. Everything about him off-kilter, from his crooked walk to his crooked smile.
From the looks of his slanted grinning eyes he seemed more than aware how off putting his entire being was. Suddenly a scare crow grin ignited his face his previous words stopping mid sentence.
Pinching her files closer together Orihime reasoned that he was looking for some sort or acknowledgment. Squeaking her eyes settled on his lanky frame, "Ah...Yes Ichimaru-san?"
Chuckling under his breathe he looked at the little babe, a fragile little flower, curious how long it would take before she wilted to the stress and sadness of her job. Pressing his large hand beside her head, the smoldering of his stoic blue eyes appeared slightly from his dark lashes. Unlike his friendly voice they held no amusement, "Do I'a make you uncomfortable Miss-a Hime?" Removing his hand he gestured at the hallway, "Does this place make ya feel uncomfortable?" She shuttered and it delighted him to see such fresh prey.
For a long time she did not answer. The words bubbling inside but refusing to come out. Was she afraid? Did she fear the absoluteness tainting this place? What reason did she have to come here then? Tightening her hands on her heart, her chest felt heavy. Something cold pinching into her skin. She looked down and found comfort.
Tugging at her name tag, she stared longingly at the words written: ORIHIME INOUE REGISTERED NURSE, quickly placid lukewarm eyes ignited with wobbly passion. Her nose wrinkled the only outsourced display of her disagreement. "No I'm glad to be hear." Like a fledgling her voice was quivering at first nervous but, quickly as if sensing her own strength it grew stern, confident, "I'm nervous. But, not because I'm afraid or uncomfortable, but because I have an opportunity to grow. I want to learn something on this expedition." Rotating her ID card through her hand she whispered, "I don't want fear death, I want to understand it."
Pushing the snowy white hair from his face, his lashes closed. Petting her silky tresses, "That's jus' what I wanted t'here."
–
Walking with the grace of of drunken sailor her feet slumped across the pristine floors. Everything, from the tile, to the ceilings, to the wall were colored in an off putting white as if the absence of color could completely dilute the whole unit of personality. Leaning down against the pasty white wall she rotated her feet feeling the nerve endings send painful tendrils up her muscles. Today would mark the end of her first week.
Only finishing a six day shift, her whole body was aching. She was working, over-over time. Putting in more hours in the last few days then she had worked in a month's time at Karakura General Hospital. So far she hadn't have to come during the dreaded midnight, graveyard shift. Still technically in training she was supposed to work from 5am-3pm although due to the tight staff she often stayed till seven or eight at night.
Curling her toes once more she tried to loosen the pinching cramp surfing through the bottom of her arch. An irritable huff escaped her mouth as the muscle refused to loosen. She wondered what the other medical staff did to rid themselves of the achy soreness from the long hours. Probably quit she reasoned.
The Weco Mundo Terminal Ward seemed to loose their medical staff at the same astounding rate that they loss sickly, hospice patients. In the break room which she rarely frequented anymore she would hear of another shadow who had either requested leave, refused to show up, or was handed termination.
To her the amount of help loss was ridiculous. She couldn't get use to the wild solitary way in which all the practitioners and nurses functioned. There was no talking of this or that technician seen flirting in the halls, no last calls to gather outside and choose a place to grab late night dinners, no pillars of support, no friends. It was lonely.
She wish she call Tatsuki, but she didn't want to burst the dam she had been holding in for the last few days.
Only a few days prior she had seen her first hands of death in the Terminal Ward. Mentally she had prepared herself for the shock, but the moment of the patients last breathe was uttered faster than her heart could decipher. Afterward holding the mans limp hand a gaping blackness invaded her chest. Sitting outside at the bus stop that night, soaked to the bone, tears undecipherable from the weather she wondered if this heavy heart was something all of the practitioners suffered from.
Meloncholic she approached his door, unlike majority of the patients he had been in the terminal ward for quite some time. He was an exemplary display of the few who lived beyond the weeks and months predicted of them. Because of that resilience he had been moved a few years before to room 101.
Staying in the terminal ward for so long he had collected a number of nick-knacks and homey items to make the blank white slate of his hospital room bearable. Much like his unusual personality of everything in his space was strange and mismatched.
Orihime had grown attach to him at their first meeting, his surname was Ishida, although he had no relation to Ishida Uyruu her recent supervisor. A conversation that had lasted well past the few minutes she was issued in order to note his vitals. Ishida-Senior as she remarked him secretly in her head was a doting and kind older man. Always talking about the strangest things. Most of all he liked to hold her hand whenever, he reminisced about the past. He refused to lie about his weakness for pretty young women, "When your as old as I am. Have been cooped up for as long as I, you find joy in in the most simple ways. So while I'm old and senile let me enjoy the company of a beautiful young lady." Everyday he would say the same things. Such a charming man, she wish she could have known him longer.
Tears threatened to fall, callously she swiped at her face. Holding in her wretches she swallowed each burning cry. Muffling the sound she tried to focus on her feet. She had to be strong. Ishida-san had asked her specifically not to cry for an old cook like him, when it came time for him to go. As if he knew he didn't have much time he began to tell her about every little item he owned and how each was so precious.
Lately the young red head had started staying after shift to help clear Ishida-Sans belonging from the room. Over the last two days the room was slowly becoming more empty and cold. The cleanup crew still had at least another day before the room would be sterilized and presentable to the next patient. Steeling her dread she prayed for the best. Hopefully his replacement would be just as kindly.
Much like her he didn't have much family left, for now she held onto his things his great-grandchildren refused to claim. On the inside of her pocket she kept a silly little trinket. A tiny silver arrow head he kept in a bucket of other silly things. When she had pulled it out the day before he died, his eyes looked so young and hopeful.
Touching her chest pocket she could feel the curve of the arrow press back against her hand. Arching her spine she relaxed into the popping sensation trudging across her back. Settling back onto her feet she walked up to room 101.
Unusual, the large plated door was closed. Most of the doors remained open unless an attending practitioner or doctor was running rounds. Holding her gasp she realized the room had been cleared a head of time. Hopefully, the few things she hadn't picked up the night before had been saved and given to his family.
From the other side she could hear a soft whirring hum of machines. Pushing her ear to the frame she inched closer, catching the strong smell of antiseptic burn her nose.
Flailing, the door suddenly burst open. Looking at her fellow nurses she squeaked. "Ano...sorry" Uniformed purple eyes glowered at her.
"Ah...Princess." Spit the more talkative of the two nurses. Shuffling her papers she looked towards her companion smirking at the violet twin eye that glanced back at her. " Isn't about time they got this room some good use?"
Sooty brown eyebrows quirking the other girl agreed, "Of course Loly."
Pushing her cart forward the pigtail woman cackled, "Glad to be rid of the doddering, senile old bat. I mean this kids a brat, but at least she doesn't just yammer and yammer on." Resting her arms on the silver cart she leaned forward, head tilting to the point her long sable hair fell across her shoulders and into the various, bottles and nodes on the tray.
Pressing her hands together till the materials of her scrubs scratched against each other Melony agreed, "Yeah annoying old bugger." She whispered staring at the ground.
Pinching her fingers large silver eyes glanced at the cold nurse, "Ah... Loly?"
Glaring, "What. Get on with it!" She quipped. Still lazed against the trolly.
"About Ishida-Sans things..." her fingers pointed at the close room.
Waving her hand, the girl snorted. "Oh that crap. Incinerated."
As if to cool her friends hot quip the ash haired woman added, "It's Just policy Inoue." Looking towards the dark glare her shoulders shook before glancing back at the quivering eyelids of the new nurse. "When no one claims the deceases personal items, they are removed and discarded."
Feeling the weight of the arrow piercing her skin she mumbled, "I understand."
Raising her lithe form, the trolly screeching at the release of her weight, a cowl grin appearing on the woman's cherry red lips, "Hmph.." Looking at the quiet red head before her, "I guess some other time Princess." Pressing forward the two disappeared down the Topsy-turvy halls.
Closing her eyes she reigned in the hot coals of anger lapping at her insides. Fiddling with her sleeves she saddened at the prospect that there were so many more people in this ward that she didn't particularly like compared to Karakura where she had never thought an ill thought about any of her comrades.
–
Refreshed from her two day weekend. Orihime checked her files, filtering through the slightly smaller pile than all the other more seeded nurses she studied her folder. 101. Her third room of the day. Taking a pen out she scribbled a note to herself. Today she wouldn't just run diagnostics or check vitals. Instead she would have to take notes in place of the practitioner and administer medicine to the patient.
Studying her sheet, her heart leaped. Death was more unfriendly to some more than others. How cruel for a child who has barely lived to suffer through debilitating sickness. She read the file one more time, Lilynette Gingerbuck, eleven years old.
–
Closing the door the wonderful smell of flowers invaded her nostrils. From what little she had seen of the mysterious woman Orihime could gather that she was likable. Inside her lovely abode were always numerous flowers, so much life. Everyday she walked in she could account for another visitor for the beautiful woman. Many times they would come in a group of three bustling through the hallways as if sickness was some fanciful old-wives tale. They were a rambunctious group, if Orihime wasn't telling them to settle down, her ward was.
Going through her list. She double checked, making sure Harribel-San's vitals were all in good condition. As she did every time she visited the room of gardens she hummed a pleasant tune. On to room 102.
–
A grimace tore through her throat. What a heavy handed man. He didn't like her that for sure was obvious, but unsurprising since he seemed to hate everyone and everything. Closing his door she felt more than heard the sound of a watery vase collide with the wall.
Today she lasted two minutes longer than yesterday in the retired
Directors presence, for once glad Ichimaru still accompanied her to care for Barragan Louisenbairn.
–
Her pace was leisure as if dreading her destination. On this floor every room was spread far and wide apart, almost taking up a whole corridor each. At first she thought this private estates due to their grandness, but found them to be a sickening game of promotions for the ill who remained here the longest or had the most gruesome of disease. She had heard Cirucci another nurse, just the other day mention how they were the privileged few who kept escaping death time and time again.
For the guest she would be visiting the child had been in and out of the Weco Mundo terminal ward for six years. Each time she would make something close to a recovery a debilitating tumor, a back-fired surgery would have her returning for longer periods of time.
Holding her breathe she approached room 101. Like a child she scuffled her shoes against the floor trying to delay the inevitable. "Stop being so childish, Orihime." She reasoned with herself.
Brrauzaum! A clang like wall connecting with flesh grated against Orihime's ear. Fear etching, she pried the door open startled by the resounding slam of it closing behind her. Gasping her fingers clung to her cheek.
If she was expecting a coddled, soft spoken girl she did not get it. Brazen, daringly dangling from the window a teal green head bobbed. Catching the sounds of movement. The young girl whipped around, her yellow parlor the only indication that she may be sick. Sitting against the windowsill, each hand curved on the frame, she leaned back so far her legs kicked up beneath her. A feral animal she growled,"What do you want lady?"
Orihime didn't answer to gobsmaked with the perils of her situation. A very, very sick little girl was hanging out of a multistory window held only by the spur of the wind and her shaking feet.
Spitting out the window she grinned. Standing up till her head brushed the very top ledge. "I'm the king of the world!" Shouting at the top of her lungs Lilynette Gingerbuck pushed herself fully through the window frame. The strong weather tousling her minty hair wildly into her eyes. Collecting some wildness she soured her expression still combating the heavy winds pushing inside. "How far down is this?" She questioned sickly. "Tell me now!"
Closing the main door, Orihime ran towards the child. Her fingers brushing against her wet slimy skin. She tried not to pull fearful that the girl would tumble and fall. "Please get down Gingerbuck-san!" Kicking at the red head the young girl scowled.
Feral, beast like the girl cried out, "Don't touch me!" The roaring of the wind behind her amplifying her call. Stomping down the shake of the window vibrated through the sole of her bare feet. Again she stomped, followed by a third and fourth time until her little feet could do no more damage. Tired, she slumped down all the energy leaving her body. "Don't tell me what to do. Lady."
Seeing the child, semi-pacified. Orihime stepped forward again. "I said I'm willing to jump, don't taunt me."
Taunt not tease, Orihime thought studying the heaving child. She put her elbows against the sill a shiver from the droplets outside splashing against her skin. "Hey stupid-"
"We're seven stories up." Orihime responded, her eyelids close as her orange fly aways began to stick to her cheek. Listening to the heavy labored breathes coming from the child she spoke gently, "I'm Orihime Inoue by the way." As much as the child tried to hid it Orhime could see her ears perk up.
Unfolding her feet the girl kicked at the wall below her before grumbling, "I never asked."
Pushing off her elbows Orihime leaned through the open space, the sprinkles of rain dotting her peach skin. "It feels really nice outside doesn't it. It's not so stuffy in here anymore."
Softly under her breathe the girl huffed in agreement. Her red cheeks turned to the side. Pressing her nose into her cotton shirt she shrieked from her shirt, "It smells like an old grandma's house in here! I hate it." Slowly her large owl eyes focused on the nurse staring out of the window.
Wistfully the older woman sighed, "I wish I knew what an old grandma's house smelled like." She half-joked.
Crinkling her nose Lilynette shuttered leaning into the nurses space, "it smells really bad. Like week old bread and dust bunnies."
Patting the windowsill Orihime turned to the young lady taking in the way her lips forced themselves into a frown. Protocol required all the windows to be latched and locked. Their design to be for appearances, to let some light in rather than actually be opened. The only reason she could imagine for the mistake was one of the handymen forgetting to lock it up after sterilizing the frame. "Maybe we can leave the window open for just a little bit longer while we do some exercises. How about it?" Putting her hand out she reasoned with the mint hair child.
Untrusting she stared at her dirtied feet, they bruised and battered from all the ruckus she had formed. Finally, realizing the red frizz-ball wasn't going to move anytime soon she looked up. For many long seconds the girl stared between the offending hand and the woman hoisted to it.
She didn't take the hand rather instead, she made sure to brush past it hard. After reaching her she did turn around, "Let's keep it open a little longer." Lilynette demanded. Sitting on her mattress she added, "But, just let me be the one to close it."
Reaching the child she nodded, "Of course," beginning her test procedures. The eventfulness of the day began to lull as Orihime asked the little girl questions and the child responded as caustic and sarcastic as she could muster. By the end of her visit the little girl was half asleep and half as cruel as before.
"Hey lady?" Orihime looked up, "What does peanut butter taste like? It's just I never tasted it and all so I'm kind of...yawn...curious." She giggled pushing the girls fringe from her face. Lilynette turned her face into her pillow,cheeks turning red. Quickly she reached out rearranging her hair into an acceptable birds nest. "Uhmm...Nevermind! It was a dumb question anyway!"
"The next time I come back I'll tell you, alright?"
Turning back to the radiant woman she waved her off, "yeah, yeah. Sure, sure."
–
Her stay in room 101. Was longer than she predicted, probably close to the same time she had spent with Ishida-San Senior. Keeping the door propped just slightly to signal the end of the rounds for the day Orihime took one more glance inside. The soft sleeping face of a young girl. She would know the answer to that question the next time they meet, and the answer to any questions the little girl had on her mind.
Shuffling through her folder she realizes she missed an attachment, behind Lilynettes large case file was a small attachment. It wouldn't require much out of her, just an analysis of a few machines. Looking at the top right she found the name of the patient. Frowning at the complected spelling. Closing her folder she sauntered down the hallway rolling the unusual name on her tongue.
Ulquiorra Sciffer, Room 104.