And so I humbly present to you the twelfth chapter…yadda yadda yadda…and guess what? Ishihime, that's what! Sorry for those of you who were waiting for it…I wanted to get Yume's trial-thing out of the way as soon as possible. It's a major little battle, so we actually get to learn about part of the extent of her powers…in the next chapter. In this chapter, I just wanted to focus on building relationships.

Yes, Uryu's a bit…off…in the beginning of this chapter. It's because he's a sleep-deprived man. I figured that he's the type who doesn't make any sense to anyone, not even to himself, when he's tired. I just couldn't make him the type of guy who's irritable when tired. I just couldn't. (And sorry for you guys out there, I know not all guys are like that when they're tired. Just the guys I know. Gee, how lucky, huh? XP)

The lucky winner for our disclaimer is….well, why not Soifon? She's going to appear quite a bit in the next chapter, anyways!

Soifon: Kimsa Ki-Lurria does not own Bleach.

Me: ……That's it?

Soifon: -is confused- Well, isn't that what I am supposed to say?

Me: Well, yes…but usually people say things other than that…like crazy psychopath things and mini rants an'….stuff…

Soifon: …Well…I'm afraid I don't…rant.

Me: Awww. Fine then, for a lack of rant, you get extra pwnage by Yume on you next chapter.

Soifon: Is that the only reason you pitted me against her? So Yume could…inflict 'pwnage' upon me?

Me: -squirms- …Maybe…

Soifon: -sigh-


Twelve

Strawberry Vanilla

Orihime Inoue, when presented with the chance, could be quite insane.

Uryu, when faced with Orihime while she was in this 'unstable' state, could be quite perplexed by her frightening behavior…to put it mildly.

Orihime was currently flouncing around the fourth division for lack of anything better to do, laughing and giggling at anything that she found particularly funny in the littlest, simplest ways. Like that splotch on the wall. Apparently, according to Orihime, it looked like a cape-wearing dog riding a unicycle. Without a helmet. Or that little dust bunny in the corner. It tickled her fingers when she picked it up and cradled it in the cusp of her hands.

Uryu allowed himself to be dragged by her around the large division, completely and utterly resigned to his temporary fate. At eight in the morning, he did not exactly feel like protesting against anything; he would not have rebelled even if Orihime insisted that he help her cook up breakfast for the entire fourth squad. Which, in reality, was a possibility that might not be too far off.

When they'd stepped into the fourth division the previous day, after hearing Yume's judgment passed by Yamamoto, they had immediately been sent to Unohana's quarters, where she then accepted them for a short chat and cup of hot tea. Uryu had declined the beverage, and Orihime had accepted but burned her tongue, an incident that she still lamented to the present moment. Unohana had given them several searching looks while asking what their abilities were; she knew what Orihime could do, as she had been one of those who'd gone to Hueco Mundo in a rescue party, but she wanted to know if there was anything else the pair of ryoka could do. Anything like sewing, for instance; apparently, they had great need of a seamstress to help create and mend uniforms for the shinigami in their squad. Uryu had volunteered; he severely regretted the action now, though. When Unohana said they had 'great need' of someone who could sew, she really did mean great need. The bespectacled Quincy had spent over half of the remaining part of the day stitching and repairing clothing, and, after the task was partially done, had been relieved of his duty to help Orihime in the kitchens. After the dinner they had produced, he was sure the fourth squad would never ask for their culinary aid again.

Still, it had been fun, cooking and baking with Orihime. Though he was tired enough to simply drop to the floor and lie there for the remainder of the night, Uryu found great comfort in her presence. Her bright and tireless spirit was what fueled him to continue dragging on through his exhaustion, and he found that it was only after they had finished cooking that he actually began to feel tired again; Orihime's exuberance had driven away all thoughts of weariness during the process. But, of course, even Orihime's unending cheer was not enough to keep the hard day's work from catching up to Uryu. After they'd finished cleaning up after themselves, he'd managed to get in a little more sewing squeezed in before retiring for the day, and had finally shuffled off to bed at three o'clock in the morning. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was, quite literally, "out like a light." His sleep was comfortable, deep, and pleasantly undisturbed.

And then, of course, he was woken up at eight in the morning by Orihime's distinct smell of honey and flowers and her airy voice right beside his head. It was not the most unpleasant way to wake up, no, not in the least, but still…eight in the morning was very early for someone who'd worked nonstop the day before.

So now Uryu walked slightly slumped over and wordless behind Orihime as she bounced from hallway to hallway, tirelessly scampering around shinigami who, like him, were just beginning to wake, or others who had gone to bed slightly earlier than the two and returned her greetings with cheerful amiability. They hadn't been here long, only half a day or so, but Orihime had already implanted herself in the fourth squad's familial ranks. It did not surprise him.

"Ishida-kun, I'm hungry. Are you hungry?" Orihime asked, reaching her arms out in an airplane's position as she smiled brightly at a passing shinigami. Uryu shook his head.

"No, not really, Inoue-san," he replied. "We can get something if you like, though."

"Mmm," Orihime murmured, sticking out her tongue as she thought, "I want to eat something interesting. Something yummy. But I don't want it to be hot…my tongue still hurts from the tea from yesterday. Hmmm…"

She placed her arms back at her sides and stared down at her burnt tongue sadly, keeping it poked out just a little bit between her lips. Uryu glanced at it. It was very small and very pink. Cute.

Feeling a flush stain his cheeks bright red, he clumsily pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and stood a little straighter. He was tired, working on an impressive total of five hours of sleep. He must not be thinking straight.

"I'm sure Unohana-san has something cool for you to eat," he said in a deceivingly calm voice.

"Alright," Orihime said, pulling her tongue back into her mouth. Uryu blinked. She did it so fast, like a lizard flicking its tongue in and out, in and out. Maybe she was part lizard. Wait…what was he thinking? He needed sleep, or food, or something, fast, because his thoughts were beginning to make less and less sense.

"I think I want…ice cream!" Orihime interrupted his bewildered train of thought. "Yes, ice cream! With…ummn…cherries and a little sprinkle of wasabi and soy sauce and…hummmn…"

Or maybe we could just get vanilla…Uryu felt like suggesting. But, giving Orihime another glance and seeing just how much she enjoyed it, he let her fantasize about what kinds of ice cream she would be able to mix. He was not even sure that Soul Society had ice cream, in the first place.

"Let's ask Unohana if she has ice cream, first," Uryu said, catching Orihime's attention as she continued to ramble off a list of…interesting…ice cream combinations. The girl bobbed her honey-haired head up and down and followed him as he made his way to Unohana's office. People were already mostly up and about, minus the few shinigami who preferred to sleep in. However, with the beginning of the war less than two weeks away, there were very few of those. Everyone was going somewhere, doing something; it all made Uryu wonder what the rest of their group was doing at the moment, contributing to the cause. Heck, it made him wonder what he was contributing, and why. Hadn't the shinigami wiped out his entire clan?

Unohana, as it turned out, did not keep ice cream in stock. She did say, however, that there were several small creameries located near the eighth division. It was a long way to walk, and they wouldn't be able to make it there, buy and eat their ice cream, and get back before ten o'clock unless Uryu used Hirenkyaku, the Quincy equivalent of a shun-po, but that would simply be a waste of needed energy. Energy that he was dangerously low on. Luckily, Unohana found a reason for them to travel towards the eighth division, anyway; she needed them to deliver several packages of newly-tailored uniforms (thanks to Uryu's hard work) to help contribute to the division's low supply.

Orihime was willing to take the opportunity, as it meant she would be able to get her ice cream, and Uryu, though he dreaded the thought of walking nearly three miles, assented because of the delivery. So it was that they stumbled out, both of them, with their arms filled with two bundles of shinigami uniforms each, to walk all the way to the eighth division, for two ice cream cones, and a contribution to a war that Uryu was not even sure he should be participating in.


Yume was bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored.

Letting out a long, drawn-out groan, she pressed her cheek against the cool, smooth surface of Byakuya's desk and sighed. It was a good thing he wasn't looking; he probably would have gotten mad, though of course he would not show it. But no, Byakuya was over by the door, talking to yet another seated shinigami from his division. Yume had tried listening in on their conversations more than once before, but had always been bored out of her mind by what they said. Maybe Byakuya purposely made it boring so she wouldn't want to listen in. Or maybe he was just boring.

"Byaaaa-kuunnn," Yume called, still slumping over the stoic captain's desk. She stared in front of her, studying the neatly-placed inkwells and crisp, folded papers. Just like him: clean, precise, and not a speck out of place. Boring.

Byakuya ignored her call, continuing his conversation with the shinigami before him. Yume could tell the man respected his captain a lot, maybe even feared him; she could hear the slight tremors in his voice when Byakuya began to grow short with him. She yawned, arching her back a little before shifting her cheek against the desk again into a more comfortable position. Yume knew Byakuya would stop talking soon; he wasn't one for conversation, and tried to keep most to a minimum of two minutes. If it lasted much longer than three, he grew irritated. He hid it well, but there were those little signs that betrayed his annoyance: the tiny lines around his mouth, the way his speech grew even more clipped and short, a slight darkening of his already-shadowy eyes. It might take a person years to notice such little differences, but Yume had had experience.

Don't speak of that, Setsuna's cold voice cut into Yume's thoughts. Yume let out another yawn and shifted lazily in her casual position again.

I'm not speaking of it, I'm thinking of it, she returned, and giggled when Setsuna snorted in her head.

You complete and utter child, the other girl rebuked her. Just…don't have anything to do with that topic again. The past is the past. It's over. Done with. Gone. We don't have to worry about Dono-san or Skinner or any of those people ever again.

Sounds like you're the one who's having a hard time 'letting it go,' Yume pointed out blandly. That's kind of harsh of you, to lump Dono-san in the same category as Skinner.

The girl's bright eyes dimmed, her mind floating far away from the present moment as a memory came, swift and fluid. A smile, sarcastic chuckle, a long-fingered hand on her head as its owner ruffled her hair like a parent amused with his child…

Dono-san taught us everything we know, Yume thought quietly. We should be grateful.

Grateful! Setsuna repeated incredulously. Yume, you know what he did? What he wanted to do with you, what he had planned for all of us? It's better that we're never going to see him again!

Hmm. Maybe, Yume replied. She blinked, her eyes regaining their shine as Byakuya finally finished talking with his subordinate and turned back into his office, where she sat slumped over his desk.

But then…I kind of miss him…

"Yamazaki, please lift yourself from my desk. I would rather you not slump over it."

Yume blinked in surprise at the sound of Byakuya's calm voice, and found herself staring at a white, slender hand pressed against the desk she was currently slouching on. She studied it with interest and a small smile, noting the elegant way Byakuya's fingers were shaped, the paleness of his skin as soft as flawless, creamy porcelain.

"Bya-kun has girl hands," she said with a giggle. Byakuya's hand immediately left the desk, and he pinned it at his side forcefully.

"Yamazaki. My desk."

With a tiny sigh, Yume forced herself to straighten and sit up in her chair. Byakuya walked around the desk to sit in his, where he immediately began to sort and sign various papers in their perfectly neat piles. After a silent moment, Yume drummed her fingers on his desk, hoping to catch his attention. He ignored her. She frowned and drummed harder, but still the only noise was the crisp shifting of paper.

"Bya-kun," she said. There was no answer, of course; Yume wondered if he was still angry with her for being assigned her supervisor. She bit her lip, hard, and rolled her eyes at his stubbornness. It wasn't like she wanted to be stuck with him all day. Sure, Byakuya was an interesting person. He just chose to be so mind-shockingly boring.

"Byakuya-kun, are you mad?" Yume asked.

"There is nothing to be mad about," came the quiet, collected reply. Yume perked up in her chair; she'd gotten him to talk to her!

"Are you mad because Yama-sama made you my warden?" she asked.

"I am not mad, Yamazaki."

"Because I would be mad, if I were you, and I was assigned to watch someone I barely knew, and whose sister had tried to attack you. But if I was assigned to someone, me, just myself, I think I'd be happy, because it'd mean I got to get to know someone more, you know? And I think —"

"Yamazaki." Byakuya had closed his eyes after she'd started to speak, obviously trying to calm down before he did something irrational. She could tell he was irritated; there were the lines around his mouth again, and, as she watched, his chest expanded widely several times with deep, calming breaths.

"Yeah?" she asked sweetly, pretending not to notice that he was annoyed with her. He opened his eyes again, and turned his head, ever so slightly, to stare somberly at her.

"I am not mad, Yamazaki," he said quietly. "I am simply trying to finish signing my papers."

"Then you don't care that Yama-sama assigned you to watch me?"

Byakuya returned his gaze to his papers and lifted the pen in his hand, continuing to write even as he spoke. "If Yamamoto-taichou wants me to perform a duty, I have no other choice but to comply. It is part of my responsibility as a captain under him."

Yume smiled and tilted her head at him. "Duty's pretty important to you, isn't it, Bya-kun?"

"Yes," he replied stoically. She could hear the firmness in his voice. "Duty is what binds everything into place, what gives us a purpose and the ability to live up to that purpose. Without duty, we would not be a great society; we would be lawless animals with dangerous powers and abilities, nothing more, and nothing less."

Yume simply stared at him for a moment, blinking as he continued to sign and fold papers, proceeding with his task as if he had never spoken. She grinned and let out a tiny, lilting laugh. "Neh, that was pretty deep, Bya-kun! I wouldn't think of you as that kind of person. But I guess you're pretty good at hiding things like that, huh?"

Byakuya looked up at her in silent surprise, wrinkling his eyebrows by a fraction as he frowned. "What?" he asked.

Yume laughed and jumped up from her chair, reaching her arms for the ceiling as she twirled and stretched at the same time, her feet tumbling clumsily beneath her in a crippled ballerina's dance. "Nothing, nothing!" she said. "I was just thinkin' out loud. You know? You ever do that, Bya-kun?"

Byakuya slowly shook his head, staring stoically at her with somber black-grey eyes. "No," he replied.

Yume shrugged her shoulders and ambled away from him, towards the opposite wall and the large window it supported. "Neh, never mind," she said. The main thing is, I got you away from that topic.

Rubbing one ankle against the other, she stared out the window with a dull sigh. She was bored again, now. Byakuya had returned to his work, albeit hesitantly; she could tell he was a bit perplexed by her behavior. Peering out at the expanse of the sixth division, or what she could see of it from her vantage point, Yume let her eyes wander. Almost everyone was staying inside, working hard to somehow prepare for the war looming on the horizon. If anyone did go outside, it was to hurry somewhere else; everyone had a destination, something in mind that they had to do. Everyone but her. She was stuck inside, staring out a window at a freedom that she could be enjoying, if only Byakuya weren't so god-freaking boring

A sudden burst of bubbly laughter caught her attention, and Yume's eyes snapped over to the corner of her limited vision. She saw two figures walking down the path between the building she was in and the one across from her, one of them clothed in white, the other in a pink shirt and pale skirt. A smile lit her face as she recognized Orihime and Uryu, both of them holding folded shinigami uniforms in their arms. They were walking side by side, Uryu with an embarrassed half-smile on his face, Orihime with her mouth open wide in bubbly laughter. Yume grinned and glanced at Byakuya, briefly considering the possibility of simply barging out of her imprisonment to join them in their merry-making. But looking back at them as they drew nearer, she noticed the way Uryu's cheeks were tinged with a faint blush, and how his eyes wandered towards his feet whenever Orihime smiled at him (which was often), his face growing even redder when she did. Orihime seemed oblivious to his embarrassment; she continued to ramble on about whatever she was talking about, giggling whenever she thought of something funny.

Yume pulled away from the window with a small smile, watching silently as they continued down the dusty street, until she could no longer follow them with her eyes. Then, she grinned abruptly, perking up and whirling to face Byakuya.

"Bya-kun, I wanna go for a walk."


Orihime let out a surprised squeal, clutching her temple and squeezing her ice cream cone in her other hand. "Aaaah! Brain freeze!" she shrieked.

She and Uryu were sitting on a bench near the little shop that sold ice creams in the eighth division. The shinigami selling the frozen goods had looked bored, like he'd had nothing better to do than wait for customers, when he really should have been somehow preparing for the upcoming war. Still, as long as it stilled the rumbling in his stomach, Uryu couldn't have cared less about what the man was supposed to be doing.

There weren't many people around, and those that did show up were always rushing somewhere, on their way to get something important done. In other words, Uryu and Orihime were alone on their little bench in the middle of the eighth division. The fact in itself was enough to make him slightly self-conscious. He did prefer their solitude to the stressful rush he'd recently experienced, though. There was something peaceful about this moment, something calming in the light breeze shifting their hair about their faces and Orihime's contented humming as she hungrily lapped at her ice cream. Leaning back against the bench's solid frame, Uryu let a haze of tranquility slip over him, savoring a moment he knew he was lucky to enjoy.

"Neh, Ishida-kun," Orihime said to his right, "you're not going to ask the man for some extra toppings?"

Ah, yes — toppings. Toppings, toppings, toppings. It looked like Orihime could never get enough of them. She'd asked for a strawberry ice cream, which seemed innocent enough, but hadn't even considered stopping there. From there it had been a long swirl of chocolate syrup mixed in with the strawberry, a thick drizzling of hot, almost molten soy sauce, a sprinkling of chopped lima beans (who knew why the ice cream shinigami even had them, in the first place?), a scattering of brightly-colored candy sprinkles, and a cheery-red cherry on the very top of the ice cream's little swirl. All in all, Uryu had to admit it was an impressive display, if somewhat daunting. He hadn't been able to believe Orihime would actually be able to eat the entire thing, let alone stomach it, but she never ceased to surprise him.

"Ah, no, Inoue-san. This is fine," he replied, looking down at his own ice cream. He'd chosen vanilla; just plain, familiar vanilla, a flavor he'd come to prefer for its simplicity. Orihime had disapproved of his choice, insisting that it needed some sort of zest to it, a spray of color or form of seasoning. Uryu had politely declined, fearing what would happen if he let her persuade him. He would probably have to hurry for the nearest bathroom before he even took a second lick. Besides, what was wrong with vanilla? It was simple, sweet and uncomplicated; it didn't need anything added to it.

Orihime hummed as she licked at her ice cream, picking up the cherry by its stem with her teeth. It disappeared into her mouth, and when it popped back out again, all that was left was the green stem. Orihime giggled and removed it, moving on to eat the hardened drizzling of soy sauce coating the ice cream. Uryu watched with something alike to horror as she consumed it full-heartedly, not even wincing at what he knew must be a repulsive taste. Considering it was Orihime, though, the bizarreness of her treat probably only made it tastier to her.

Seeing him staring at her ice cream, the honey-haired girl mistook the expression on Uryu's face for interest, and all of sudden, the blue-eyed Quincy had an up-close view of the offending dessert. He blinked in surprise and pulled his head back a little bit, wrinkling his nose at the smell.

"Want to try some, Ishida-kun?" Orihime asked. "It's really good!"

"Ah," Uryu said tactfully, backing up even more at the prospect of actually tasting the atrocious ice cream. "I'm sorry, Inoue-san…I don't particularly like strawberry."

"Aw," Orihime pouted, pulling the ice cream back to herself. "Why not?"

"It's too strong of a flavor," Uryu answered, tasting his own frozen treat. "I prefer vanilla."

Orihime brightened, a happy smile lighting up her face. "I do too! But not just by itself…with all sorts of toppings, like hot sauce and cheese, and even pepperoni. I think strawberry is my favorite, though; it's so sweet, and I don't think it's too strong of a flavor at all."

Uryu nodded silently, absorbing the fact and swallowing it reluctantly. He hadn't necessarily been talking about the flavor at all, and what bothered him was that he didn't know if Orihime had or hadn't been, either. The Quincy paused, staring down at his own dessert-breakfast, which was beginning to melt in his hands. Orihime had offered him hers; should he offer her a taste of his ice cream? Would she decline, or would she do something unspeakable to it, like add cheese or pepperoni?

In the end, the words slipped out before he could stop them. Uryu held out his own ice cream, silently offering it before speaking.

"Would you like to try mine, Inoue-san?"

Orihime giggled and, to his complete surprise, turned as bright a red as the cherry she had eaten not too long ago. "Yes please, Ishida-kun," she said, reaching out to take it in her other hand.

A loud, high-pitched noise sounded from behind a nearby building, making both Uryu and Orihime jump. They exchanged twin expressions of questioning confusion. The noise had sounded much like a female squeaking very loudly, and Uryu frowned at the thought that someone might be spying on them. He slowly got to his feet, and on a complete impulse, called out the name of the person he most expected to be hiding behind the building.

"Yamazaki-san?" he said.

The same person who'd made the noise let out a low, loud groan. "Aww, see what you did, Bya-kun? They've found us out."

Uryu was not surprised to see Yume step out from behind the building, a sheepish smile on her flushed face, but he was surprised to see Byakuya follow, a stoic mask hiding any kind of emotion from the glacial captain's face. He remembered that Byakuya was supposed to be supervising Yume, but he hadn't thought him to be the kind who would actually accompany her on spying missions.

"Kuchiki-taichou, you didn't actually…" he said, pausing before he could utter the word 'squeak.' Byakuya gave Uryu a chilly, unreadable look, but there was no missing the sharp glint in his dark grey eyes.

"No," he said firmly. "I was not the one to make such a childish noise."

"Childish?" Yume protested, looking back at Byakuya as she walked forward to meet Uryu. "Hey, I was surprised and happy! Let me squeak every now and then."

"What were you doing spying on us?" Uryu asked dryly. Yume's grin grew even more embarrassed, and she rubbed the back of her head.

"Who said we were spying on you?" she asked. "Maybe I wanted an ice cream and…tripped over a rock and squeaked."

"You were spying?" Orihime asked in surprise, rising from the bench. She looked over at Byakuya, her grey eyes wide. "And you too, Kuchiki-taichou?"

Byakuya turned his emotionless gaze on her. "No," he said again. "Yamazaki wanted to go for a walk, and promised that if I let her go she would stop distracting me while I was working. It was too good to pass up."

"Hey!" Yume squawked in protest. "I'm not that bad."

Byakuya closed his eyes silently, pointedly ignoring her, but Uryu read the message loud and clear: yes, you are. Yume pushed her lower lip out in a pout and folded her arms over her chest with a short hmph. "Well, maybe I wouldn't have to be such a 'distraction' if you weren't so boring," she muttered under her breath. Byakuya continued to ignore her presence, remaining as silent as a stiff, marble statue.

Uryu cleared his throat, wanting to disrupt the awkward moment, and Yume suddenly aimed a wide grin at him. "Sooo, Ishida-kun," she said in a teasing tone, "what were you doing all the way out here, all alone with Inoue-chan?"

The dark-haired Quincy felt his face turning hot and quickly busied himself with his glasses. At his side, Orihime smothered a tiny, embarrassed smile and a soft giggle. "N-nothing, Yamazaki-san," Uryu replied, trying to sound unruffled by her suggestive comment. "Unohana-taichou asked us to deliver several uniforms to the eighth division, and Inoue-san was hungry, so we stopped for an ice cream."

Yamazaki's smile would have easily put the Cheshire cat's to shame. "Riiiiiigggghht," she said. "And I just came over here for an ice cream, like I so truthfully said I did." The blue-eyed girl wandered over to Orihime's side and looped an arm over the taller girl's shoulder.

"So, Inoue-chan, what'd you two really do while I wasn't here? You can tell me. Was Ishida-kun trying to be kinky with you?"

This last sentence was whispered in Orihime's ear, but Yume had no skill in being quiet, and Uryu heard it loud and clear. Even if he hadn't, the stunned look on Orihime's face and the way she turned deep red from the roots of her hair to the tip of her toes would have given her away. He felt himself turn even redder, and Yume gave him a wide grin. There was nothing remotely innocent about it.

Orihime raised her eyes to his, but looked immediately down at her feet when he returned her gaze. He did not miss the tiny smile that she tried to hide by biting her lip.

Byakuya just stood there like his normal silent self, taking it all in with a slightly bored expression.

Yume spotted the melting ice cream in Orihime's hand and abandoned her goal to make Uryu uncomfortable. "Are you going to eat that?" she asked, pointing to the strawberry-and-chocolate treat. When Orihime said no, the girl immediately took it from her and vigorously began to eat.

Uryu remembered something that held some importance and turned to Yume with a somewhat suppressed and sly smile. "Yamazaki-san, isn't there something you're forgetting?"

Yume looked up at him over her ice cream, pausing in the act of licking some of the soy sauce off. "Uh?" she questioned.

"Your trial starts at ten o'clock. Are you sure you're not going to be late? Shouldn't you be training or somehow preparing for it?"

The ice cream, which had been precariously placed in the first place, teetered off its cone and fell with a wet splat on the ground by Yume's feet. The blue-eyed girl let out another loud squeak and rushed to Byakuya's side.

"Bya-kun, what time is it?" she asked frantically. "Am I going to be late?"

Byakuya paused, thinking before giving his answer. "It's been about an hour and forty-five minutes," he answered smoothly. "Your trial starts in less than twenty minutes."

Yume blanched considerably and gripped the sleeve of his captain's cloak, tugging insistently on it. "Then we've got to hurry, come on! We can't be late! Bya-kun, you know the way, right?"

"Yes…"

"Then let's go! Ishida-kun, Inoue-chan, you coming?"

"Of course, Yamazaki-san," Uryu replied, now feeling slightly guilty for bringing up the trial in such a brusque manner. Yume beckoned with one hand, and the trio followed Byakuya as he walked away, Uryu discarding his dessert as they went. He looked to Orihime as they broke into a fast walk, straining to keep up with Byakuya's long stride. She looked at him and gave him a big, bright smile, and he could not help but feel thankful that she was not so embarrassed about Yume's comments that she would avoid him.

"Hurry, you two!" Yume called from a little ways up ahead. "Hurry!"

"Coming!" Uryu called, and quickened his pace.


Mayuri had been waiting in the competition grounds for a while now, concealed in the crowd of shinigami that had showed up to watch the new ryoka fight against the 2nd division captain, Soifon. He could not help but chuckle quietly to himself; what a perfect opportunity to observe his new specimen, Yume Yamazaki! There was nothing she would be able to hide now, not with old Yamamoto on her case. And if she did somehow manage to conceal things, he was sure that he would reveal them eventually. He could even use her friends to get to her, if he needed to, though he really preferred to use that as a last resort. With luck, he wouldn't need to go that far.

The twelfth division captain glanced down at a small clipboard he had brought with him, just in case he wanted to take notes on Yume's performance, and jotted down the first few sentences.

"Subject: Yume Yamazaki

Known facts: not much."

But not for long…


A/N: Well...that was actually my longest chapter yet. O-o

Next chapter will be…you guessed it, the trial! Soifon vs. Yume. Will Yume win? Will Byakuya ever warm up to his "charge?" Will I ever be allowed to drink coffee again? All will be revealed in the next chapter! Well, not the coffee thing…though I may include it in my disclaimer. Hmmn, that's an idea…

Leave a review, please please please! It makes me sooo happy. And if you're too lazy to review, well…nothin' much I can do about that. Except say this: kaaarrrmaaaa. :D

-Next chapter: Competitions

P.S. Death Note came out in theaters for two days over here in America! Hurray! I'd seen it before, but it's different to see it on the big screen. I was a very happy fan girl for about…oh, two hours or so. I could see Ryuk's entire outfit because the screen was so wide and big…my mom went to see it with me, and the first thing she said she thought when she saw Ryuk come on the screen was, "Oh, boots! He wears pointy boots!"

Just a little thought to leave you with: Ryuk wears very pointy boots.

:D

-Kimsa