A/N: My Ulquihime inspiration has been suffering as of late. Kubo's giving me nothing to recharge with, and other fandoms are sweeping me away. But I'm still trying! You will notice two new one-shots on my profile page: Flinch and Unmistakable. In other news, I adopted a cat! Also, my birthday is on May 24th! I'm turning 23, and I think it's time to start making attempts to get into graduate school.
Warnings: We're doing something different with today's chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any other copyrighted material.
Tell Yourself
By: Princess Kitty1
Proximity
November 7
"Then Keigo-kun said that he wasn't imagining things, he'd really seen a ghostly woman in her late thirties wandering down the hallway. And Kurosaki-kun comes out with," Orihime lowered the jelly-filled pastry from her mouth and did her best impression of the shinigami, "Keigo, you can see spirits, remember? And Keigo-kun got upset and muttered something about it being creepy anyway."
Ulquiorra handed a bag full of groceries to the half-deaf old lady across the counter. "Woman," he said, turning to Orihime, "I thought you had to work today."
Orihime, who was seated on the counter in her school uniform, blinked at him. "I took the day off." She broke into a grin and flushed pink. "Actually, I couldn't remember the recipe for the sweet breads so I was too embarrassed to go in! I didn't want to cause them any trouble."
"Ah." In one syllable he somehow managed to simultaneously lecture her about her health and express his concern that perhaps she wasn't healing as fast as the doctors hoped she would. By saying nothing in return, she chided him for worrying too much.
Orihime watched Ulquiorra work the cash register, his hand habitually coming up to stop the drawer from shooting out and hitting him in the stomach. From what she'd heard, the machine had been malfunctioning since before he'd started working there, but Urahara had yet to bother replacing it. Orihime took a small bite of the pastry. "Ulquiorra-kun,"
"Hmm,"
"I know this may sound sudden, but I was giving it a lot of thought, and," she took a deep breath, "I want to cut back on my hours at the bakery." He looked at her again. "There's really no need for me to work so much. Your paycheck covers most of the bills, and when you add it to mine… we've saved a lot of money between the two of us."
Ulquiorra closed the register drawer. "You could have cut back earlier," he said.
She gazed at her hands. "I guess? I didn't want to take advantage of your kindness – eep!" Orihime squeaked when Ulquiorra grabbed her chin and turned her head to face him. He was glaring at her, annoyed, but more to the point, they were practically nose to nose. "Alright! I'll take advantage of your kindness!" she cried, her skin bursting into color.
She'd expected him to let go of her immediately, but Ulquiorra appeared to have come over distracted, and his hand lingered. What was going on? Orihime's heartbeat was accelerating unnaturally fast. Her thoughts flew into the danger zone, her eyes flickered to his mouth…
And then Ulquiorra wiped a spot of jelly from her cheek and pulled away from her. "You will be able to focus more on your recovery," he stated, before promptly disappearing into the back hallway. He needed to get one of those snacks for himself, so he wouldn't go searching the woman's lips for any crumbs she might have left behind.
November 10
"That one. Definitely that one," Orihime said, motioning with her finger for Ulquiorra to turn around. "See, it's not so baggy in the back like the other one was. There's nothing to do about the fact that you're naturally skinny. Any attempts to conceal it make you look like you're wearing hand-me-downs."
Ulquiorra straightened the long-sleeved shirt he was trying on. "I do not see why I need more sweaters."
"Because it's winter, and you've got like two that I bought you on a peasant's salary last year. Isn't this one much nicer? Look, the fabric is better so it won't come out of the washing machine a heap of thread." Orihime pushed him back into the changing room. "Next shirt!"
"We have been here for an hour," Ulquiorra complained, but she wouldn't hear it. She flapped her hand at him until he disappeared into the cubicle with a resigned sigh.
According to Tatsuki and Chizuru, going clothes shopping together was married couple behavior – which was, Orihime suspected, the reason they hadn't come along. They were totally on to her. She'd politely reminded them that Ulquiorra was her responsibility, which they'd railed against, claiming she made him sound like a dog.
The door opened and Ulquiorra stepped out in a white button-up shirt. "The sleeves are too long."
Orihime walked up to him and lifted his arm. "Yeah, but when that happens you just fold them back like so." She rolled the sleeve once, then did the same to the other, freeing Ulquiorra's hands. "There! What do you think?"
"It is perhaps more formal than necessary."
"What's wrong with formal? You don't have anything formal, and what if tomorrow you're summoned to meet the emperor? I'm not sending you to the emperor in a cheap t-shirt."
"Why would I be summoned to meet the emperor?"
"Humor me!" Orihime cried, reaching for his collar and fixing it. "You'll need a tie."
"Excuse us," a voice sang out to their right. Two employees pushing a wheeled clothing rack were trying to get through, offering them apologetic smiles. Orihime stepped closer to Ulquiorra without thinking, her hands sliding down from his collar to his chest in the process, evoking a sharp intake of breath from the former Espada. He remained motionless until the employees had passed by, then separated from Orihime as if she'd burned him.
"No ties," he said gruffly.
Orihime held up a finger. "Not even one?" The dressing room door slammed in her face.
November 15
"It's so cold!" Orihime drew her scarf tighter around her neck. "And worse, I think it's starting to rain."
The day had been a dreary one, breaking the marathon of sunny skies and tolerably crisp autumn weather. It was the kind of cold that snuck its way past fabric, penetrated skin, and chilled the very bones.
Ulquiorra had gone to work prepared, however. He carried an unopened umbrella that he handed off to Orihime without a second thought. "Protect yourself."
"What about you?" she asked, holding the umbrella in front of them before she opened it.
"We do not have long to walk, and besides, it is just a drizzle." But even as he said this, the sky broke open and the light rain turned into a downpour. Pedestrians ducked into shops and under awnings. Orihime frowned at Ulquiorra and thrust the umbrella back at him. "Keep it," he insisted.
Orihime put a hand on her hip. "You're going to get sick!"
"Not if you walked faster."
Her eyes narrowed. "Did you just sass me?" Ulquiorra kept his gaze averted in a way that suggested he had, but would never own up to such childish behavior. Orihime snapped the umbrella closed and used it to jab him in the ribs. He grabbed the tip and pushed it away. She tried to wrestle it from his grip, but appeared to have forgotten that Ulquiorra was a skilled swordsman; before she knew it she had her back against a cement wall and the tip of the umbrella pressing into her chin. "No fair," she grumbled.
"It was a valiant effort, "Ulquiorra assured her. He withdrew the umbrella, opened it, then held his hand out to Orihime. "You will have to stay close. It's not very wide."
She took his hand, hoping he would dismiss the blush on her cheeks as weather-related rosiness.
November 18
Orihime sat beneath the kotatsu as she stared at her class notes, chewing on the end of her mechanical pencil. She was falling asleep, if truth be told, but she wanted to get a decent amount of studying done before she turned in for the night.
Occasionally she would glance up at Ulquiorra, who was watching some kind of television documentary. Wasn't he cold? She'd invited him to sit under the kotatsu earlier, and he'd refused, for reasons unknown.
Come to think of it, he had been distancing himself since the rainy day. Or was she imagining things? She knew Ulquiorra well enough to tell his brooding from his good moods, and it seemed to her that he'd been taking measures to put a few feet between them at all times. Had she upset him? Intruded on his personal space a little more than he was comfortable with? Should she apologize?
"Ulquiorra-kun," she began, then wasn't sure how to proceed.
Ulquiorra looked at her. "Do you need help?"
Orihime shook her head once and focused on her notes. It had been almost a week since she'd last forgotten anything, and her memories were all in the right order. Her next doctor's appointment would probably confirm that she'd made a full recovery, so she could rely on her own effort to study for her upcoming English test.
To her surprise, she heard the television click off. Ulquiorra stood from the sofa and came to her side, disregarding the real-or-imagined barrier that had very recently sprung up between them. "I'm fine," Orihime said, but made room for him anyway.
"Something is troubling you."
"Not… really. I thought for some reason that you might be mad at me. You're not mad at me, are you?"
"No," Ulquiorra replied, "I am not." He had simply been confused by the slight changes in her behavior. Because he was biased, he thought he saw more to her increased proximity to him than there probably was. And because it was too much to bear at times, he had imposed a little bit of distance.
Unfortunately, he was helpless against her pull; one glance and he'd come back to her side as if he had been summoned. The relief that he saw on her face made it that much harder to wander away. He realized that on some level, she wanted him to be near her, and the implications were haunting him.
He wondered how much longer his restraint would last.
/TBC/
