Okay, it's official.

It is so much easier to write when you have an outline.

I've had a basic one done for this story, but I did a full one for HisWish, Fulfilled, and I kept wondering why that story was so much easier to write than this one. I thought that it might have more to do with the plot, or the action, but then I realized that it was the guideline. My thoughts were already in order for my other story, so I didn't have to ponder over what should go here or there.

So I started working on the outline for The One-Month Experiment too, and… just… wow.

It's so much easier!

I haven't finished the outline yet, but I've got the next few chapters properly mapped out, and boy am I glad for that.

'Cause things are getting a bit… complicated.

Read on and you'll understand what I mean.

Master File Word Count: 74,507

Master File Page Count: 186

Again, without author's notes.

And I still don't own anything

Light filtered into a slightly disheveled apartment, causing one of its sleeping occupants to wake.

Orihime's eyes groggily opened for a moment before closing shut again as she groaned and rolled over to shield her senses from the offending sun. Normally she welcomed the morning, but right now she just wanted to go back to sleep. Her muscles were stiff with the after-effects of so much spent rietsu and the healer felt drained in ways that were wholly unfamiliar to her. Even her occasional secret training sessions didn't leave the young girl quite this delirious the next day.

She had just about mastered the first Hado and would probably only need a few more shots to get the little strip of paper to rip off completely. Ichigo, on the other hand, still seemed to have a ways to go. He had at least managed to only dent the boulders instead of reducing them to rubble. Still, it was an exhausting experience. A part of Orihime's mind remembered some comment Urahara had made yesterday about Kidou wearing her out more because she wasn't actually a Soul Reaper, but it wasn't until this particular moment that she remembered it.

The tired girl allowed herself a little indulgence as she lounged in bed, seriously considering staying there all day. So much had been happening recently, and in all honestly Orihime simply hadn't had the time to process it all. The last week felt less like a few days and more like a few months. And the worst part was that people were starting to notice. Orihime was fairly certain that Uryu wasn't the only one suspicious of Ichigo. She had seen some of the odd looks Chad and Tatsuki would send her gender-bent friend sometimes, and it worried her.

The most troubling thing, however, was Ichigo himself.

As much as she hated to admit it, Orihime was afraid that the Substitute wasn't adapting well. Every day he seemed to be just a little more on edge, a little more subdued, and a little less like the confidant young man she knew so well…

Orihime's thoughts were interrupted by the nearby alarm as it finally went off.

With a resigned sigh Orihime forced the last of her sleepiness away. She was a responsible girl, and more importantly they had a test in Math today. As much as that lazy part of her may want to, Orihime knew that she couldn't just skip school because she was a little worn out. She had gone to class in much worse shape than she was in today.

She even went to school the day after she got back from Hueco Mundo.

Something about the normalcy of class always calmed the young healer. In a sense, it was the one thing that hadn't really changed. They had lectures, and gym, and lunch, and all of her friends were there: It was the one constant in their everyday existence ever since that fateful day nearly a year ago when Rukia Kuchiki had come into their lives and turned their whole world upside-down.

Sighing at her train of thought, Orihime quickly gathered her clothes, dressing in her room rather than the bathroom since she had showered the night before. When she considered herself presentable enough to enter the common room of her apartment Orihime was surprised to find that Ichigo actually wasn't awake yet. Her current 'roommate' had taken it upon himself to try and wake up first and make breakfast. It almost felt like a little competition between the two of them, and usually Orihime would jump at the chance to cook for the Substitute, but before she could get to the kitchen the healer heard something from the other side of the room that made her shiver.

A moan.

It was a strangled and tortured whimper, like the sound alone was painful make, and Orihime quickly turned in the direction of the chilling noise to find Ichigo, lathered in sweat and panting shallowly, his feminine face set in a grimace of sheer agony. The healer drew closer to the suffering teen and noticed how his muscles were all taut, his body rigid despite the obvious fit of shivering that was trying to overtaking him. Taken aback by the sight of Ichigo Kurosaki in such a pained state, Orihime belatedly realized what she was seeing.

Ichigo was having a Nightmare.

It never occurred to her that Ichigo could have Nightmares.

In her mind, the Substitute, even gender-bent, was untouchable. He was strong and brave, and he never let anything get to him. He could stand up to anyone, and anything, by nothing more than force of will.

So the idea that he could suffer from a Nightmare just like everyone else was… preposterous…

… Wasn't it?

But here he was, groaning and shaking, moaning and hurting…

And she was just watching!

That woke Orihime out of her shocked, and slightly frightened, stupor.

Ichigo was hurting, and she needed to do something to help him.

Now.

Biting her lip nervously, Orihime knelt down beside the distressed Ichigo, quickly but gently setting her hand on his shoulder before shaking him and calling his name.

The effect was instantaneous.

The spring-tight muscles all contracted at once as Ichigo went from horizontal to sitting up, eyes wide and wild. For an instant Orihime almost thought she saw a lighter color than she was used to reflected in the momentarily panicked orbs, but Ichigo quickly closed his eyes again, visibly forcing himself to calm down. When the gender-bent teen finally managed to at least partially tame his ragged breathing he looked back to Orihime, and the girl was relieved to see that the irises were their normal chocolate brown.

She pushed what she thought she saw aside for the moment as she tried to find a way to comfort Ichigo. She hadn't removed her hand from his shoulder, and the skin beneath her palm was practically freezing. It was only then that she noticed that his entire body had not been shaking from fear but from cold. Ichigo was still shivering, and Orihime instinctively grabbed the blanket the Substitute had been borrowing and wrapped him in it before rushing off to the kitchen area to make some warm tea.

She had no idea what had brought on the strange fit, but by the time Orihime returned with a steaming cup Ichigo seemed to have recovered some. As she offered the drink to her ailing friend, the gender-bent teen shot her a grateful look before drinking some and sighing with deeply aching relief. Eventually Ichigo managed to find his voice again, and even though the words were hoarse and quiet the first thing he said warmed the young girl's heart a bit.

"Thanks Inoue."

"Y-you're welcome."

Orihime saw a tired smile twitch its way onto Ichigo's lips, and her concern only grew. For a second she contemplated not asking, but the haunted look in his eyes and the small tremors that still paced up and down his chilled flesh made her change her mind.

"Ah… D-do you… want to talk about it?"

"N-no…" Ichigo shivered again, though Orihime wasn't certain it was from the cold this time, "I… I don't think I can… a-and I wouldn't even know where to start…"

"O-okay. Do you want to stay home?"

Ichigo shook his head before getting up, thanking her one more time before assuring her that he would be okay. Orihime watched as the visibly shaken Ichigo gathered his things together and slipped into the bathroom, presumably to take a shower.

The healer watched him go, sympathy and sadness warring with themselves in her eyes. A part of her was glad that she was able to be there for Ichigo, even if it was just a little bit. But another part of her was terrified at what she had just seen, and yet another was deeply depressed that he wasn't willing to open up to her and let her try to help.

And deep down, in one of the darkest parts of her heart, Orihime couldn't help but think that, if she were Rukia, maybe Ichigo would have told her what was wrong.

Across town the light of an opening Senkaimon, invisible to the average human eye, filled a small alleyway barely a block from the Kurosaki Clinic. As it dissipated, a petite Soul Reaper with raven black hair strode forward, heading straight for the home of Ichigo Kurosaki.

She was loath to admit it, but Rukia Kuchiki was glad to be back. Her gigai was where she left it, wrapped in a blanket and stored in the shed at the back of the Kurosaki residence. As she quickly retrieved the fake body, entering it and trying to shrug off the cold in its limbs, something started to nag at the petite Soul Reaper. Something just wasn't quite right, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Sighing before locking the shed back up and making her way to the front of the house, Rukia quickly attributed her odd feelings to apprehension. This most recent return to the Soul Society had been brutal on her nerves. Even though the war was over there was still so much rebuilding and reorganization left to do, and politics were starting to come into play again. Petty rivalries and alliances between noble houses were manifesting now that they no longer had a common enemy threatening their general way of life, and she was unfortunately being dragged into the middle of it.

And all because of Ichigo.

There was a lot of mystery surrounding the last battle of the war, presumably a battle between the Substitute Soul Reaper and the Traitor Sosuke Aizen himself. The official report only states the broadest possible overview, with no detail or even the confirmation of Aizen's death. The only person that knew for sure what happened back then was Ichigo Kurosaki.

And he wasn't talking.

And Rukia wasn't about to ask.

Even if every noble family in the Soul Society begged her to.

As the petite Soul Reaper approached the door of the Kurosaki household, she let ought a despondent sigh. Everything had become so ungodly complicated recently. Ichigo had never been quite right after that last battle. He looked broken, and tired, and Rukia honestly didn't know what she should do to help. The normal tactics used to cheer the Substitute up didn't seem to work, and in the end the noble was forced to just give the teen his space and let him figure it out on his own. It took a while, but she thought he had finally been getting better recently…

But it was also possible he was just putting up a strong front so everyone wouldn't worry about him…

It was at that moment that Rukia Kuchiki prepared to knock on the door of the Kurosaki household, only to have it swing open with Ichigo's sister Karin on the other side.

"You're back."

The simple statement rocked Rukia back for a moment. Was it pure coincidence that Karin had opened the door just as she was about to knock? The petite Soul Reaper wanted to think that it was, but the lack of shock on the young girl's face and the way she kept looking around Rukia, expecting to find something that wasn't there, told her otherwise.

Then Karin spoke again, and what she said sent a tiny trill of fear down the Soul Reaper's spine.

"Where's Ichi-nii? I thought he'd be with you…"

"He's not here?"

"No, but the fake one is."

At that comment Rukia quickly checked her surroundings and sure enough Ichigo Kurosaki's rietsu was gone. Some of the energy lingered in the area, but it was like the last vestiges of light in the sky that remained after the sun had set.

Then Rukia realized that Karin had noticed Kon, and immediately panicked into doing damage control.

"Uh… D-don't be silly! T-there's no such thing as a fake…"

Karin sighed before painting an annoyed look on her face, and Rukia found herself mildly intimidated by the young girl before her.

"Don't bother lying to me. I already know most of it. Ichigo takes off with you sometimes, and I know he has a good reason for it so it doesn't bother me. So now that that's cleared up, are you gonna tell me where he is?"

"Ah… well, I don't know. I didn't take him with me when I left. I was needed back home for a… personal matter. How long has he been gone?"

"Almost a week. Dad's at a conference so it's just been me, Yuzu, and the fake Ichigo for a while now."

"I see… When is your father returning?"

"He called and said he should be back Sunday, but that he had an errand to run so he might not be here until the afternoon."

"Hm…"

Rukia nodded her understanding and silence fell between the pair, each trying to think of what to do next. The only think they knew for sure was that Ichigo was gone, and they had no idea where he went or why.

And then Rukia remembered.

Kon was here.

Setting her face in a mask of determination, the petite Soul Reaper looked to Karin for a second before trudging into the house, muttering under her breath.

"I may not know where Ichigo is… but I sure as hell know how to find out!"

Oh yes, Rukia is back!

This was an angsty chapter, so I actually had to wait for my brain to come back from the happy, fuzzy place to the dreary, disturbed place that my mind usually only goes to when I go to bed hungry and have nightmares.

My nightmares are scary shit.

I don't get those 'go to school naked' nightmares, oh no! I get those 'running through an open air maze of glass panels in broad daylight while being chased, and caught, by a monster that wants to kill you by slowly pressing its metal hand into your stomach harder and harder until you die' nightmares. Or the 'giant centipede that breaks into the subway car you're in and proceeds to bite into the top of your foot through the stomach of the man sitting next to you as you feel the gastric juices burning your flesh and the centipede's jaw re-adjust to get a better grip' nightmare.

Oh yes, I would gladly take the 'naked in front of my class' nightmare over one of those.

Any.

Friggin'.

Day.