EDITED CHAPTER


Chapter 3: So In Over Her Head

It was finally the last day of school and Orihime stretched her arms as only five minutes separated the students from their long-awaited freedom. Just like anyone else, she was staring impatiently at the clock that hung on the wall, the seconds ticking by painfully slow.

And then it was finally 4 P.M. and the bell rang. Chaos ensued as students rushed out of the building, friends meeting up and people saying goodbye to each other. Orihime was accompanied by Tatsuki who had offered to walk some with her, but the girl had to go home herself and so they parted at the juncture that separated her route from Orihime's.

The girl walked home quietly, enjoying the sun on her skin and the wind in her hair. She was looking forward to a well-deserved nap. They'd been having tests these past two weeks and she had been up studying for them until late into the evening. So she was understandably tired and only wanted to plop down on her bed.

That thought, however, left her mind when a hand suddenly shot out of the alley that she was just walking by and wrapped around her mouth. Panicked, she tried to scream but the limb left no room for such an action and she was helplessly pulled into the dark street. She got knocked against a brick wall before something hard and heavy hit her head and everything went black.

"Nnoitra, did Grimmjow not specifically order not to harm her in any way?" Ulquiorra asked flatly, his eyes downcast at the girl that was now lying at both of their feet.

Nnoitra just turned around, his evil grin widening even more. "Why Ulquiorra, I didn't hurt her. She's just passed out, so don't shit your pants. The little bitch's fine," the tall male replied, leering down at the girl.

Ulquiorra glared at his partner in crime but let it go with that. Why did Szayel have to become sick today of all days? It was the only reason he was currently out with this poor excuse of a human and completing their assignment.

He watched as Nnoitra heaved the girl up and slung her over his shoulder, his hand resting on her butt unnecessarily, and then they trudged off towards the car they'd brought for today. They could hardly carry an unconscious person in broad daylight. Arriving at the base, they put her in Grimmjow's room, onto a chair that had been placed there for that exact purpose and tied her hands behind her back.

"She's all yours," Nnoitra told Grimmjow as they exited the room.

The blue-haired man caught Ulquiorra's condescending look and had a hunch that Nnoitra had done something stupid again. "You didn't hurt her, did you?" he addressed the lanky male, his icy glare fixed on his most untrustworthy member.

"Nah, just knocked 'er out. Didn't exactly want to be caught by the cops. She ain't worth the trouble," the man replied with a sneer before walking past him and out the building.

"That dumbass," Grimmjow muttered before looking at Ulquiorra who was still standing there. "You can go home, tell the others as well. I'm gonna keep watch over her. And thanks," he told his "friend" who replied with a nod and then left without another word.

Ruffling his hair, Grimmjow opened the door and walked in to see what their guest looked like. The woman did not look like what he expected. He'd expected… Well, he didn't really know what he'd expected. Just not this.

The girl was young, around his age probably with a considerably curvy figure that was pleasing to any man's eyes and burnt orange hair. He marveled at the color and the way it shined brighter when the sun hit it. Her hair was partially held back by two hairpins and her face was soft and feminine. He could already see a bump forming on the back of her head where Nnoitra had probably hit her.

Having nothing else to do, he plopped down on the couch behind her and watched her. He wondered what she was like. Maybe there would be no need for any big threats. She looked reasonable to him and he was sure that he could get her to the point where she would not rat them out to the police.

Orihime slowly came to again, her head throbbing and her eyes blinking several times to get a clear vision again. She lifted her head and looked around, noticing that this was not her home. Far from it; the walls were only concrete, as was the floor and it was slightly cold in here.

She fidgeted with her hands only to notice that they were securely tied behind her back, hindering her in scratching the back of her head where the pain still had not stopped. She began to panic and felt the rope cut into her skin as she desperately tried to get her hands loose.

"You shouldn't do that."

Orihime stocked at the voice and halted her actions in shock.

Who was that? Who was behind her? Her kidnapper? A serial killer? I'm too young to die! she thought in horror. There were still things she wanted to do, food combos she wanted to try out.

The voice had been deep, rather harsh and dark. A male voice, definitely a male voice. This was bad. This was really, really bad. She couldn't see him behind her and her neck could only crane back that much.

He relieved her from her desperate attempts at looking behind her when she heard what she assumed being a couch creak and heavy footfalls walk towards her. Then he walked around and to in front of her and Orihime's eyes widened.

If she had to describe a delinquent, then this would probably be the picture she would give.

The man towered over her, his body already tall but made so even more by her sitting position. His posture was relaxed but guarded, hands shoved in his jeans' pockets and shoulders squared forwards a little. He was strong, she could tell by the muscles she could see peeking out from under his shirt's collar and the veins that were visible on his bare forearms.

She was sure he could snap her neck with barely any effort.

His eyes were an aquamarine blue, electric almost, and they were glaring at her. It made her blood run cold and her face pale, gulping once to moisten her suddenly dry throat. His eyebrows were drawn downwards in a frown, only adding to the intimidating look he was giving her. His hair was a wild mop of blue that was partially styled backwards, but a few strands fell forward and into his eyes.

I'm dead, Orihime thought in mortification as he seemed to scrutinize her openly, unlike her who had tried to do it as discreetly as possible.

"How're ya feeling?" he asked with a deep rumble, but Orihime was still too shocked to get a coherent sentence out of her mouth. Her eyes only widened further and she gulped again. Why was her throat so dry? His eyes narrowed further at her lack of response. "Hey, I asked you a question. Answer it."

"Y-yes!" she squeaked out, finally finding her voice again. "I-I'm fine."

He seemed pleased by her answer and replied, "Good."

Her eyes darted around nervously, trying to find some way to get out of this horror, but there was none. She was stuck for good this time.

"Ano," she spoke meekly, fearing how he would react to her oncoming question. "Why am I here?"

"Huh? Ah right, you don't know shit. Well, thing is you saw some of my members handling some… trouble. I'm sure you know what I'm talkin' about."

Orihime gave a weak nod. There was no way she would forget that.

"Problem is you saw who they were. And now there's the possibility of you going to the cops, which would mean we would have to go to jail. Sorry to tell you, but since I'm not up for doing that, you're stuck here for some time. Until I'm sure you won't rat us out," he explained, watching the color drain from her face more and more.

"I won't tell anyone!" she blurted out in a desperate attempt at finding a solution that they could both agree with. "I swear!"

"I'd love to believe you, but it won't be that easy. Better safe than sorry, right?" he remarked, giving her a grin.

"Then what are you going to do with me?"

Orihime's imagination was running wild with images of her mangled corpse lying in some alley or gutter, battered and bruised with a slit throat. She knew that gangs didn't joke around when it came to their members, especially not this one. If they had to, then they would kill her.

Grimmjow could feel the distress and panic roll off the girl in waves and sighed. He didn't like to threaten girls, even if they were a danger to his group. Crouching down in front of her, he looked in her eyes until she had her gaze somewhat focused on him.

"Look," he started off, trying to keep his voice as calm and non-threatening as possible, "I'm not gonna kill you or anything. You'll just be staying here a while until I'm sure I can trust you enough to let you go again."

She seemed to be relieved at this, but there was still some anxiety there. "What about the others? Will they…"

"They won't do anything. Don't worry about them. Just stay clear of Nnoitra. You'll know who he is when you see him," he said as she looked at him with confused eyes.

Orihime nodded and watched him as he rose back to his full height again and then walked around her. She could feel cold metal touch the skin of her hands and tensed for a moment before realizing that he was only cutting loose her bindings. She brought her hands in front of her and rubbed at the irritated skin.

"I'll keep you loose for now. But try to get away and you'll be back on the chair with tied hands," the man told her before going to the door that seemed to separate that room from another one.

"Wait!" she suddenly called out. He looked at her over his shoulder, one hand resting on the doorknob. She twiddled her hands before speaking up again. "Your name… I don't know your name."

"It's Grimmjow."

"Grimmjow…" she repeated lowly to herself. An odd name.

"I'm gonna lock the door for tonight. And don't think about escaping. I sleep right next door and believe me when I say that I have good ears," he told her to which she only gave with a nod in reply before he closed and locked the door.

Orihime was a bit perplexed over her current situation. She was the hostage of a gang, yet her captor seemed to be considerate enough to untie her hands and set her somewhat at ease. Maybe, Grimmjow wasn't such a bad person.

Yawning widely, she noticed how tired she was. And since there was nothing here to entertain her anyway and all the excitement and exhaustion from the past weeks caught up now, she convinced herself that a small nap wouldn't hurt.

She went over to the couch the male had been sitting on previously and took off her shoes before finding a comfortable position on the old furniture. Then she drifted into a peaceful slumber, in which the color blue appeared exceptionally often.

Dreams were odd sometimes.


Edited April 6th 2016

A/N: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters. All credit goes to Tite Kubo. I only own the idea for this story.

Hope this is better now.