I have been really loving Chad lately. Like, what in the world. I just might start shipping Chad and Shiori- they'd be so cute! Or...I could just give you lovely readers what you've been begging for and put in some UryuShiori ACTION, baybeh.
Ohmai. Chapter Eleven already. MUCH LURVE to all the peeps who reviewed and followed and stuff.
~ST15
The consciousness
Of the rapid increase of my superstition
Served mainly to accelerate
The increase itself.
~ Edgar Allen Poe
Acceleration
No matter how long Shiori might have searched for Gabriel afterwards, she would never have found him. She realized that from the second he disappeared, taking the Soul Circle wheel with him.
"Damn it." She whispered, feeling as though all of the answers that she was so desperately craving had just been torn from her grasp. As she clenched her fist, she felt the hard press of the object Gabriel had given her. Shiori turned her hand over and opened it, gazing down.
A circle of perfect silver metal was resting on her palm.
She picked it up, examining the ring all over. It was set with a single fiery stone- one that she could not describe in color because it was made up of so many shades. There were burnt oranges, burnished yellows and gold, ruby red…it was beautiful.
There were no inscriptions that she could see. Just a simple silver band set with that stone. Shiori wondered whether or not she should put it on. After all, it could be dangerous. She didn't trust that Gabriel character quite yet- as a rule of thumb, Shiori didn't trust anyone without getting to know them a little. And she didn't know Gabriel at all. She'd spoken to him for a grand total of fifteen minutes, and she wasn't letting up one bit.
Shiori walked out of the empty carnival area, head pounding from what had just occurred. She decided to go into the school, side-stepping some remains from the barbeque and not at all envying the class that had cleanup duty after this thing was over. She sidled past the glass doors, seeing a bench in the hallway by the office. She sank into it gratefully, suddenly exhausted.
I'm tired already? Usually, I'd take this as a sign that I need to train more often. But this…this was more emotionally exhausting than anything.
Shiori closed her eyes and let her body go. She sank a little lower in her chair, resting her forehead on a hand. Later. I'll piece this together later. Right now, I have a café to run…
"Sorano-san?"
She glanced up wearily, seeing Chad standing over her. How long had he been there? She'd been too lost in her thoughts to know for sure. "Oh…Yasutora-kun. What is it?"
Chad's dark eyes stared at her from under his unruly brown hair. "You okay?"
Shiori realized the position she was still sitting in and straightened, clearing her throat. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you."
"…" He looked as though he didn't quite believe her, but nodded anyway. "The concert's nearly over. Inoue-san is looking for you."
"Is she?" Shiori stood, wondering whether or not the concert was already over. "All right, thank you. I'll go see what she needs."
She walked towards her class' homeroom, accompanied by a silent Chad. Shiori side-glanced his way, recalling how funny it had been when they were trying to measure him for his butler costume. Michiru had been on-duty for measuring that day, and there was no way that she was going to reach Chad's immense height. In the end, Shiori just stood on a desk while Michiru held the tape measure from below.
"Is the concert over, Yasutora-kun?" She asked suddenly. She realized that their class would have only a limited time to get ready.
"Not yet. Inoue-san left early to help, along with a few others who weren't interested in the concert." Chad replied, sliding the door open and allowing her to enter first. "And Kunieda-san is in the Rec. room, ready to begin setting up."
Shiori nodded, and went inside. She'd barely glanced around to get her bearings when she was immediately accosted from all sides.
"Shii-chan! We have most of the tablecloths, but I think we're missing one!"
"Somebody needs to get the cold drinks from the fridge downstairs!"
"Listen, Sorano, he isn't letting me do my job-"
"The centerpieces aren't supposed to look that way, you idiot. Everyone's coming to this thing, so if you don't do it right-"
"Where do I leave all this silverware?"
Shiori felt a vein throbbing in her forehead, closing her eyes as a massive headache began to take effect. "Wait."
The noise around her still continued, students carrying boxes here and there, some shouting at each other and some standing there completely clueless and in the way. Shiori's eyes flashed as she drew herself up to her full height.
"Will everyone just shut up for a few seconds?!"
The clamor fell silent immediately.
"Thank you. Now, the café is being held down the hall in the Recreation room, which as you know is right beside the Home Ec. room. You," She pointed at two guys. "Make sure the round tables are out and in their places in the Rec. room. Setup committee- put tablecloths on tables. Ryo's in the Rec. room, and will instruct you further."
She heard them scurrying to do as she asked, and felt inwardly relieved that they were actually listening to her. "You. Lay the silverware out on a side-table so the maids and butlers can easily get to them. You and you, gather the food and drinks committee and keep them all in the Home Ec. kitchen. Mahana will be with them shortly."
Shiori was satisfied at the way everyone was beginning to organize themselves. She went through a mental checklist. The setup was being taken care of, and so was the food. The costumes were lying in wait inside the Rec. room, and everyone had received a memo to wear black dress shoes.
Hold on. Shiori suddenly remembered the maid headpieces that Orihime and the others were working on. They hadn't finished them due to a certain crisis with Ms. Ochi's antique china, which were lent to the class for the café. But did the girls finish making them afterwards?
Oh, for the-
"Where's Ishida-kun?" She hurriedly asked the nearest person, who happened to be Mizuiro. He was carrying an armload of centerpieces, looking slightly harassed.
"He's in the Sewing Club's classroom, I think. Sorry, I gotta go. Ryo's been…in an interesting mood. She hated the concert."
"Ah." Shiori stepped back, letting him continue on his way. She could understand that. She also happened to know that Ryo enjoyed music that was strictly classical. Anything else, she scorned with a deep passion.
Shiori turned and left the classroom, running in the direction of the Sewing Club and hoping desperately that Ishida would be there. "Ishida-kun!" She slammed open the door, causing a focused-looking Ishida to nearly jump out of his chair.
"Be careful, you made me tie the thread too hard!" He scolded her, using his teeth to try and pry the thread loose.
"Ishida…" She gritted her teeth. "What are you doing? I just realized- I don't think the headpieces were finished. Do you know if they-"
Uryu held up a finger, signaling for her to wait. Her mouth nearly dropped open. She was in the middle of a freaking crisis here and if he didn't acknowledge her and answer her damn questions then-
"There." Uryu stood, tossing his creation to the side. "Now, what were you saying?"
Shiori felt her last nerve wavering, so she forced her voice to sound very, very calm. "Ishida-kun. The maid headpieces. Were. They. Finished?"
"Oh, those." Uryu gestured languidly towards the far right table. "I'd finished them a while ago. They're in a pile over there. Is that all?"
Shiori glanced over and saw the lacy, black velvet headbands. "Ah." Was all she could say. "So they were finished…"
"Of course." Ishida sniffed, pushing up his glasses as he put the haberdashery away. "You must have more faith in me than that."
She blinked. "Well…all right. That's all I wanted to know." She made to escape the scene as quickly as possible, and grabbed an armful of headpieces on her way out the door. "Help me carry these to the Rec. room, will you? We all have to begin getting changed."
Uryu assisted her silently. It was all Shiori could do to keep from laughing out loud- the lacy headpieces looked hilarious in his arms, like he'd just finished panty-raiding a lingerie store. But for the sake of his ego and the fact that they really needed to get things done, she kept quiet. He probably got enough teasing from the guys at being an adept 'seamstress,' as she'd overheard Keigo snickering the week before.
Once they'd deposited the headpieces in the Recreation room, Shiori hurried back to the classroom and retrieved two pieces of paper from a pile in the cabinet. On one, she scribbled 'Girls' Changing Room' and on the other, 'Boys' Changing Room.' Then she went out into the hall, and stuck the papers onto the doors of two classrooms. I have to tell everyone to get dressed now…the café is due to start soon.
Back to the Rec. room. Shiori gazed around in approval at the décor, relishing in the feeling of accomplishment it gave her to see everything looking so neat and professional. She clapped her hands twice, and everyone looked up from what they were doing.
"Right." She exhaled, knowing that there was no time to be celebrating quite yet. "Everyone, go get dressed. Girls, your maid headpieces and outfits are on the right corner table. Boys, your butler ones are on the left. There are two labeled dressing rooms in the hall- separated by gender. Stay in your respective rooms, please."
Shiori could have sworn that she heard a few groans (sounding suspiciously Asano-like), but chose to ignore them. She had to go get changed herself, and then give out the table numbers to the students to let them know which ones they'd be manning for the café.
Once in the dressing room, she began to put on her lace-edged attire along with the other girls. Each maid costume came with the dress, a headpiece, an apron, white knee-length hosiery, and an outer corset which had to be laced up. The skirt of the dress fanned out just so, and the fabric was soft to the touch. All the lace had been a real pain to sew on, Shiori reflected. But completely worth it.
The girls were chattering away excitedly and helping each other fasten their headpieces. Orihime spotted her immediately, grinning widely. "Shii-chan, look! My dress turned out really nicely!" She spun around, orange hair fanning out and looking quite childlike in her glee.
"It did." Shiori nodded, admiring the fit. "I hope every single one is just as accurate."
Tatsuki's dark eyes held reluctance and embarrassment, looking more than displeased at the fact that she had to wear such a girly thing. "Ugh…I'll be glad when this is over." She said grumpily, fixing the lacy headpiece in her cropped black hair. "I hate lace, and I hate dresses."
"But Tatsuki, you look so cute!" Orihime insisted truthfully, wide-eyed at the transformation her friend had gone through. "You have the perfect body for a dress- and your short hair makes the effect even better!"
Tatsuki eyed herself skeptically, and then ruffled Orihime's hair fondly. "Right. Unfortunately, Orihime, I don't think I agree with you. You're much better suited for this sort of thing."
"Oh, I couldn't agree more!" Chizuru's enthusiastic input only made Tatsuki scowl. "My 'Hime looks good in anything! Probably even in nothi-"
"SHUT UP!" Tatsuki, red-faced, punched a desk while Shiori winced. The last thing she wanted was a full-out war right in the middle of the café proceedings, so she attempted to soften up the atmosphere a little bit by changing the subject.
"Where are Michiru and Mahana?"
"Here!" Michiru's voice squeaked from the far left, and Shiori glanced over to see the shy girl looking adorable in her dress and trendy apron, headpiece and shiny black Mary Janes. She was also blushing like crazy. "I'm not used to getting so dressed up…it feels wrong, somehow…"
"You look great." Mahana reassured her, smiling as she laced up her corset. "Besides, you guys- this is only supposed to last for a few hours. Then we all get to go home and recover."
"Recover is right." Ryo muttered from the area by the blackboard, slipping her feet into her dress shoes. "That concert just about finished me."
"Oh, come on, Ryo. It wasn't that terrible!" Jahiro smirked a little, pressing her hands to her cheeks. "None of them are exactly hard on the eyes, you know."
Shiori cringed as all the girls began putting in their opinions as to who was hottest. The topic had turned to Angel's Rain, yet again. She had no idea what anyone saw in them, and really didn't care to relive the concert experience in her mind, so she finished dressing quickly in order to avoid much more. Shiori didn't want to think about that group, or their perverted leader.
She managed to exit the room without anyone noticing, locating Uryu in the Rec. room. He was already dressed, looking slender and quite trim in his butler costume, which surprised her. Maybe he wasn't such a twig after all. He was standing beside Ichigo Kurosaki, whose bright hair stood out against his dark attire. Ichigo looked like a mysterious secret agent in that outfit...or something equally shady. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing.
"Ishida-kun?" Shiori walked over to them, gesturing towards the doors. "I think it's time."
Uryu glanced at her, and then at the doors. She was amused to note that he did so much too quickly. People were already beginning to crowd the entrance, lining up to wait in order to be seated. Shiori inwardly wondered why she'd signed up for this, and then remembered that Ms. Ochi had actually forced it upon her. That woman…
"Let's go." The voice brought her out of her thoughts. Uryu offered an arm, and she stared at him as though he'd just fallen off the dark side of the moon. He sighed, pushing up his glasses. "Just take it. We'll look more professional this way."
Shiori hesitantly put her arm through his, feeling slightly more awkward than she should have felt. After all, this was Ishida. Stuck-up, annoying, nit-picking Ishida. To see him as an actual man with actual gentlemanly tendencies was totally out of the question.
The fabric of his sleeve brushed against her bare arm as they moved towards those doors, which seemed to be taking forever to reach. Shiori subconsciously noticed his height- he was probably around five inches taller than she was. She chanced a glance upward. His icy eyes, partially hidden behind his delicate glasses, were staring straight ahead with a look of resolute calm.
Without her even realizing it, they had reached the entrance. And without further ado, they opened Karakura High's Annual Maid and Butler Café to the public.
-OOO-
"May I take your order, masters?" Orihime asked brightly, the air practically glittering around her. Her eagerness was nearly tangible, and it was causing quite a stir amongst the male population within the café.
"Baby, you can take my order any time, any day…" An overenthusiastic customer slid his arm around her waist. Shiori restrained herself from rolling her eyes, and could have sworn she saw a quick movement out of the corner of her eye. But she was so busy getting things for her tables (table twelve had asked for yet another pitcher of lemonade, and there was a girl calling for more buttered scones at table eight) that she couldn't bring herself to care right then.
"No, you can take mine." Another protested, attempting to worm his way in. But the two were silenced immediately with a sharp blow to each jaw, so subtle that no one else could have noticed. But Shiori did, and couldn't help but think that those guys had it coming to them. Putting the moves on Orihime was definitely not a wise thing to do with an already-irritated Tatsuki Arisawa in the room.
The café, so far, had been a roaring success. Mizuiro, Ishida, and even more surprisingly- Ichigo, were the cause of hordes of girls piling in, giggling and playing with their hair and asking sweetly for seconds. From where Shiori was, in her position of bringing drinks in from the kitchen and back out to the round tables, she was witness to Keigo, who was attempting to act suave, flamboyantly leading a few girls to their seats. He winked suggestively and pulled out their chairs for them.
"What would you like to be served today, ladies?"
"Um…I heard that Mizuiro Kojima is here…can we be served by him today?"
Keigo gaped like a fish, looking rather like a snowball that had been left too long in the sun. Shiori stifled a laugh, and then refocused on her job. She passed by Uryu on her way back to the tables. He was balancing a tray of drinks in his hand, and she found herself exchanging a knowing glance with him. He nodded her way.
It was all going well. Better than they'd expected, actually. Everyone was enjoying themselves and there was more than enough food, and the groups of people wandering in from the concert were still coming.
"SHIII-CHANNNN!" An all-too familiar voice broke through the clamor of silverware and chatter, and all at once, Shiori found herself surrounded in an enormous, bone-breaking hug. "Ooh, Shii-chan is too cute! I just have to take some pictures!" Ami squealed, squeezing her even more tightly.
Shiori, who was struggling for breath, could just barely see Ito and Jiro standing there behind Ami's blonde, wavy perm. "…I…to..?"
"Ami, loosen your grip a little." Ito admonished, grinning. "She isn't going anywhere."
"Aw, little Sorano in a maid outfit. I'm glad I came." Jiro laughed out loud, making Shiori want to just die. "This is definitely something you don't see every day."
Ami shot him a glare, as though she were the only one who was allowed to comment on Shiori's appearance. Then she reluctantly released Shiori from her death-grip and stepped back. "Wow, you seriously went all-out for these outfits. They're so pretty and charming!"
"Th-thank…you." Shiori gasped, rubbing her throbbing ribs. "Ito, when did you get here?"
"Oh, I was here the whole time." Ito airily sat down at the nearest vacant table, crossing one leg over the other. "You just didn't see me."
Shiori opened her mouth in order to question the cryptic answer, but the customers on table twelve were already calling for her. She had to get back to work.
"I'm sorry, I have to go." Shiori waved a little, wanting to get away from Jiro's teasing smirk. "Chizuru will be with you in a moment."
She motioned Chizuru over, figuring that she'd keep Ami busy for a while. When she went to go attend to her table, beginning the next series of countless treks back to the kitchen, she regretted it.
Her eye twitched as she saw a flash of light go off behind her, followed by giggles and exclamations. Ami and her pictures…Shiori swore quietly to herself- for about the millionth time since she'd begun this job- that she was never doing this again. Let Ms. Ochi pick Orihime to be leader next time, the girl had plenty of patience and energy.
Speaking of Ms. Ochi. Their teacher was sitting with a few other teachers at table three, being served by Ryo and practically beaming with pride. Shiori allowed herself a small smile, seeing her young teacher like that. After all, it was Ms. Ochi's class who'd put this together all on their own. The woman was obviously being congratulated, because she lowered her head modestly and waved a hand in dismissal.
Can you feel it?
Shiori's eyes widened.
Her reverie was broken, broken like shattered glass, as she inhaled a dread-filled breath of tainted air. No. Not here. Not now…
The slow, creeping sensation was unmistakable. Unavoidable. Shiori reached out with her mind, closing her eyes and hoping desperately that she was wrong.
The awareness only intensified. Shiori felt the world reel around her, and she gripped a stray chair for temporary support. The initial feeling sometimes made her dizzy and nauseous, and for some unknown reason, this one was worse than usual. …It's east of here. Crap! Why does this always happen during the worst possible times?!
She glanced around, searching specifically for Ichigo, Rukia, and Uryu. They obviously hadn't noticed yet, and for that she was grateful. Who knows what they'd do, or if they would even choose to do anything. After all, she had to consider the possibility that they might be her enemies.
Shiori froze. …That's right…they all might be…
She exhaled sharply and drew herself up, ignoring the wave of nausea that passed through her. Whether they were her friends or not, Shiori shouldn't care. She shouldn't be forming a bond with any of them.
I'm forgetting. It's not what I'm here for.
Shiori pulled herself together, thinking fast. Okay. She could escape through the back door in the kitchen- with all the commotion that was going on, nobody would notice her abrupt disappearance. And if she was able to finish the Hollow off quickly, then she could make it back before they realized she was missing.
Her mind made up, Shiori slipped through the kitchen doors and past the harried crowd of maids and butlers, heading for the exit. She breathed a sigh of relief once she was alone in the hall, and ran down a flight of stairs to the first floor. Bursting outside and into the late afternoon air, Shiori didn't stop until she reached an area where she could really run, unnoticed and protected by buildings and houses.
So she ran.
The wind whistled past her ears as she folded time and space, narrowing her eyes against the dust and chilly breeze. It felt so good to let out some energy that she nearly forgot the reason why she was momentarily allowed to run like a Quincy. Almost. The buildings were grey blurs, the sky a mere stretch of indigo above her.
Where? Right…left…? Above! Shiori glanced upwards, examining her situation, noticing almost immediately that a rusty ladder was attached to the side of the building. She climbed it quickly until she reached the long, flat roof- of Sunflower Seams, no less.
A disgusting sight met her eyes, one that made her want to give in to her queasiness and let loose the contents of her stomach. The smell permeated the air and wafted in her direction- the powerful, heavy stench of rotting fish.
Shiori stared at the gaping mouth, serrated teeth gleaming in the afternoon sun. Two sharp fins and many tentacles protruded from the Hollow's sides, swiping menacingly at the air and ground, leaving behind trails of steaming slime. Slanted red eyes squinted from the dark eyeholes of the Hollow mask.
At least there's only one pair of eyes this time…
"Well, what do you know?" The Hollow's evil, glowing eyes narrowed further as it realized Shiori's presence. "It's the Quincy girl. Lucky me!"
Shiori didn't dignify this with a response. She removed the stretchy covering from her Quincy charm and touched it lightly, calling upon her bow. The summoning came much easier this time, and Shiori was glad. She sensed that this Hollow…this one was much stronger.
"You killed one of my brethren, you know. Now I'm gonna kill you." The Hollow, which Shiori now knew was a second Mukhai, opened its mouth wide.
…Damn it!
She had a split-second view of the yellow, jagged teeth and the dark, cavernous throat, before a thick stream of liquid came gurgling up from the recesses of its maw. Shiori hit the floor and rolled, her bow wavering and flickering out of existence. The acid missed where she'd been standing by mere inches.
"I'm warning you, girl. You don't want to see me angry." The thing shut its eyes, and Shiori watched in morbid fascination as pores began to open all over the Mukhai's body. Spines jutted out of the slippery skin, and all at once began hurtling through the air like deadly spears, glinting as they sped towards her.
Shiori, who was used to long-range attacks, tried to dodge them all. She spun in place, crouching and using her speed to avoid the barbs. She used the agility that had been instilled within her ever since she was old enough to train, remembering her father's words suddenly as she wove effortlessly through battle.
"Quickly, Shiori." Her father instructed as a six-year-old Shiori screwed up her face in effort, trying to keep up with him. "Your eyes should be focused straight ahead of you."
Shiori pushed herself, beads of sweat running down her temples. Her cerulean blue eyes widened suddenly as she tripped over a protruding tree root, causing her to tumble forward to the ground.
Her lower lip trembled as she pointed at the offending object that had caused her demise. "D-Daddy…I fell down…" Shiori tried not to cry. Honestly, she did. She didn't want to disappoint him- he had so much faith in her and she had to be stronger than that.
Against her will, fat shining tears began to weave patterns down both cheeks. She made no sounds, but her father immediately rushed over and scooped her up, hugging her tightly.
"Are you okay, precious?" He crooned gently in her ear. Shiori felt safe in his strong arms, and nodded tearfully. She was now. "Let's take a rest, shall we?"
"No, Daddy!" She squirmed in his arms until he put her down, and she stared up at him hopefully. "Let's do it again! Please?"
Her father rubbed his chin and apprised his daughter- all scraped knees and determined eyes. Shiori felt small under his gaze.
"Well…if you're sure."
Shiori's legs pumped harder than before. She felt the power coursing through her veins. Her tiny sundress floated around her body in the breeze, and her cerulean blue eyes turned lovingly towards her father, who was easily keeping up.
"How's this?" She giggled, liking the way her hair blew behind her as she ran.
"Much better, honey. But don't become too confident. Emotion dulls the force of your attack, and weakens your defense. Pay attention now, here comes the next lesson…"
…
That voice. Those kind eyes, and gentle laughter. He was so patient with me.
I loved my father. How I miss him.
Shiori blinked, the Hollow refocusing like an ugly nightmare as she was pulled from past memories.
In her few moments of distraction, two poisonous spikes got through her defense and pierced her right shoulder and leg, causing her to fall to her knees.
"Ah!" She gritted her teeth as fresh pain washed through her, the poison taking immediate effect. I need to retreat to a higher building so that I could properly shoot my arrows without getting hurt. I should have done that much earlier. Now I'm going to pay the price.
She had to hold herself steady as a nearly suffocating wave of spirit energy came barreling her way. Shiori's eyes narrowed in confusion. It hadn't come from the direction of the Hollow, so what…? She whipped her head around, trying to locate the source.
"You're toast, pal." Came a voice from behind her. All Shiori saw was a flash of black and white, before the Hollow was howling in pain and writhing on the ground, oozing green liquid as half of its tentacles were now severed from its body.
A figure dressed in a black shihakusho landed lightly in front of her, crouching to absorb the shock. As they straightened up, Shiori was able to see a gigantic, curving sword arcing upwards to rest itself on a strong shoulder. It was an image that she had been brought up to be wary of.
…To fear.
She felt her body shaking violently, her hands rendered incapable of movement as she realized what this meant. Her eyes clouded over, hearing the screams all over again. The blood-drenched battlefield. The sickening thuds of swords finding their mark and blood spattering onto the dewy grass.
…A zanpakuto.
It's a shinigami.
Her heart nearly stopped as the figure turned its head around, her eyes meeting the sight of bright, orange hair and a serious, permanently frowning face.
"Sorano Shiori. What the hell do you think you're doing here?"
It was Ichigo.
Shiori stood up shakily, closing her eyes tightly and knowing that this could mean the end. All she ever stood for, all she ever lived for…she was at the mercy of the Soul Reapers, yet again.
She had no choice.
Shiori slowly held out her arm, her Quincy charm dangling from the end of the delicate bracelet. It spun and winked in the fading sunlight, and Ichigo's eyes widened.
Her fate- sealed.
-OOO-
Reviews would be much appreciated! Next chapter is already on the go, but like every other good writer out there, I'm nothing without you guys.
Ciao~!
