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Kuchiki Byakuya was not impressed, to say the least.

"The discordance and misconduct among the inmate population last night reflects our own incompetence in handling a…"

Orihime let his voice drone out, shooting Renji – who was standing behind his shoulder – a sympathetic look. The higher-ups had not reacted well to the riot, even if it was an electrical problem and not the incompetence of the staff that had led them here.

If you asked Orihime, the staff had worked just fine. Perfectly, even. Renji had doubled down on any and all inmates, rounded up the security, and handled the situation without a single death on their hands. That was a win, in her book, but Kuchiki Byakuya did not seem to be the type to settle on matters related to security.

When the staff meeting came to an end, Orihime met Renji at the snack table.

"Coffee?" he asked, lifting the pot he was using to fill his own cup. His forehead and arm were wrapped in bandages, but compared to the other guards, he seemed relatively alright – spare the bags under his eyes.

"I've got it, thank you," she beamed, waiting patiently for him to take his fill. She leaned against the table and regarded the crowd. "That meeting was rough. I don't know how your brother-in-law could be so mad when you did the best you could to handle the situation!"

Renji chuckled, passing over the coffee pot before mimicking her position against the table. "If you thought that was him being mad, you should see him when we have anti-death penalty protestors come out. All things considered, that was him being ecstatic," he said, giving Orihime a slight grin when she frowned. "He's got to be tough, it's his job."

Orihime smiled, pouring over her own steaming coffee into a little cup. "I'm just saying, Abarai-san, he should give you credit where it's due. It was scary last night."

"Meh, everyone stepped up to the job and followed lockdown procedures, 's not just me," he said modestly, with a shrug. "Speaking of, I heard from Shirogane that Kurosaki was in the infirmary with ya the whole six hours– "

Orihime tried her hardest not to wince when a little stream of hot coffee trickled over her finger.

"– he didn't get himself into any trouble, did he?"

Renji's tone was curious, but Orihime's heart picked up a rapid pace nonetheless. She shakily pushed the coffee pot away, ears burning at just how fast word got around the penitentiary. When she turned to Renji, however, she shook her head and smiled. "No, he got caught up in the crowd so I gave him shelter in the clinic until the riot died down."

That was the truth, anyway. Part of it. She only hoped Renji wouldn't ask her what they did during that time, because she was a terrible liar and she really didn't like lying to her friends in the first place. The faint sting of lovebites on her thighs served as a little reminder, ebbing away with the memories of what it was like to be with Ichigo when everyone was looking the other way.

"That's nice of you," Renji was saying noncommittally, but Orihime couldn't help but feel like there was a brief, questioning flicker in his eyes. It passed just as quickly as it arrived, however, and his features loosened up again. "Either way, you passed your first real riot. You're a big girl now, by prison standards." She giggled. He straightened up and made space for her as they walked out of the meeting office. "Rukia was saying we should have you over for dinner or something this weekend. How's that sound? I make a mean tataki."

She brightened immediately, then felt the slow crawl of guilt in her belly. Renji had been so nice to her the entire time she was here...a small part of her felt cruel for lying to him like she did. It wasn't like she could tell him the truth, but a part of her wished she could.

"I'd love to, Abarai-san," she replied softly.

He grinned. "We don't mind if you bring a date y'know," he said. "Rukia was on my ass for not setting you up with any of my so-called gazillion friends yet, but I told her I didn't want to scare you away."

Orihime smiled, but felt her heart clench with this unnamable yearning. Enjoying dinner with her co-worker's family, deciding on things to take as a gift, laughing over dinner time conversation – these were things she would love to enjoy, even more so with Ichigo as her date, and the fact that he chose to be here when they could have had all that made the ache worse.

She shook her head as soon as the thought arrived, feeling ashamed at her selfishness. Ichigo was an honorable man with his own moral code; even if she didn't like it, she understood it and it was selfish of her to want him to throw all that away just so they could be together. Deciding this, she regarded Renji firmly.

"Thank you for inviting me, Abarai-san," she said confidently. "I will be there with copious amounts of homemade apple juice and plenty of stories about the goriest fingernails and internal organs I've had to pull out in my short term as a doctor."

Renji shook his head with a wince. "You and Rukia would get along like a house on fire."

"So that's what the correct idiom is?" Orihime said suddenly, remembering the strange look Ichigo had given her only a week ago when she misphrased it.

"Eh?" Renji turned over his shoulder.

"Nevermind!" she squealed, falling in line with him as they ducked out of the building.

x.x

When Orihime returned to her office, the place was swamped with patients. Several inmates had been grievously injured during the riot, and the lack of beds was proving to be a little difficult for all the day doctors. P.I had been called off for the day, seeing as the place was too cramped to breathe.

"Kyoraku-san is at bed #4," Hanataro was telling her as she came up to him. They both charged down the ward together, Orihime already shrugging on her coat and trotting to keep up pace. "Baton to the gut when he tried disobeying a guard who said he couldn't come visit Ukitake-san. Possible blunt abdominal trauma."

Orihime winced, before nodding. "Got it. Thanks, Hanataro-san."

Hanataro nodded and took off along the long ward corridors again. Orihime came up beside Shunsui's bed, greeting the nurse at his bedside.

She settled her stethoscope on his chest, shooting him a small smile when he came to. "Airway is clear," she said to the nurse, a moment later. "Do we have his blood pressure, yet?"

"Normal, Doctor-san," the young nurse quipped, showing Orihime the charts where Shunsui's details were recorded. "Urine samples showed no bleeding, either."

"Good! We'll just need to keep him steady on crystalloids for a day or two, then," Orihime cheered, looping her stethoscope back around her neck before smiling at the nurse. "I've got it from here, Ogida-san, thank you!"

Ogida nodded, before slipping away from the beds to go tend to another patient. When he was out of earshot, Orihime frowned a little sadly at Shunsui's crumpled figure.

"Don't give me that look, Doctor-san," he dismissed with a lazy smile, stroking the greying hairs over his shoulder. "The guards aren't always very kind to peaceniks like us, it's alright."

Orihime shook her head. "That's still no way to treat a distressed inmate, Kyoraku-san," she said, pushing him slightly so she could check for swelling or tenderness. When she fixed gazes with him again, she squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "If it makes you feel better, I was here all night. Ukitake-san was perfectly alright."

He might have seemed nonchalant, but his airy grin didn't belie the relief in his eyes that flashed temporarily at her words.

"Aw, you're a sweetheart, aren't you?" he cooed, trying to sit up. "I'm not worried about Ukitake. Old chap's still got a good few years left, I can tell. Oi, Ukitake!" he called, leaning over slightly to regard the vegetative figure. "Don't make the nice doctor worry about us, ne? Quit being lazy and get up already."

Orihime laughed sadly, feeling her eyes getting misty at how long some lovers had to wait, how tenderness seemed to bloom in a place as harshly stone-edged as the penitentiary. After the savagery of last night, it still relieved her to see love blossoming so unashamedly, so calmly.

She left Shunsui in favor of checking up on other patients. On the far end of the room, by the wall, Shinji was sitting up with a cast slung around his arm. He seemed to be staring pensively at the wall.

"Hirako-san," she said, a little surprised. "I hope you're not in any trouble?"

Shinji's grin split wide as he regarded her. "Doctor Hime-chan!" he exclaimed. "Boy, am I glad to see you! I was so concerned for your safety last night!"

"Oh, I was quite alright, Hirako-san!" she chatted, crossing her arms against his bed. "I was mostly worried about the men here getting themselves hurt."

"Oh you are too good to be true, my love," he cheered in an equally bright tone. Then, his eyes fell into an uncharacteristically somber crease as he leaned forward quietly, dramatically. "Although, you see, I was more concerned about that vent you've got open there."

"Huh?"

Orihime looked curiously at Shinji; he pointed to the vent in the corner of the room – which had not only been opened, but also tracked mud in over the carpet.

Shinji watched the doctor carefully, cataloguing every minute reaction that passed her face at the sight of the opened vent.

Orihime, however, felt a strange nervousness coil in her belly at the sight. The only people who had been in here last night were her, Ukitake and Ichigo. And she had wondered how Ichigo had gotten here so fast. Could it be…?

"Ya can never trust a con, Doctor Hime-chan," he said sagely, snapping her out of her thoughts as he nodded in great somberness. "Never know if you're just a means to their little endgame, y'know." Then he shook his head, as if to shake off the ominous mood he had set. "Eh, c'est la vie, darlin'. It's not like any god-fearing soul in here would want to hurt a hair on your pretty head, much less use you for their own gain! That's unthinkable, forget what I said!"

He cackled – and Orihime tried laughing with him – but her focus drifted back to the vent, a horridly heavy weight dropping in her stomach. Could it be..? The denial slowly followed – of course not – but the slither of doubt had snuck in, spreading like a slow poison despite her fortitude.

She shook her head and took off.

Shinji watched after her with a growing smirk.

x.x

The next two days passed without consequence.

Patients rolled in speedily, only to either be admitted into a bed or sent straight for surgery to Tokyo General.

Orihime was neck deep in work, even as the number of patients began dwindling. Yet, as she went about her business, her gaze kept shifting over to the now-closed vent. Knowing what she knew now about Ichigo and his innocence hardly surprised her. She had suspected it for a while, even. But the presence of the vent, admittedly, came as a shock to her.

For the most part, she knew Ichigo was sincere. That his feelings were genuine, whatever feelings they might be. But the small part of her, the one that had bad experiences with lovers that always wanted a little more, a little something beyond what she was ready to give – that was the part of her that bubbled icily in protest and doubt.

She sighed, watching her hands blur under the steady stream of water.

Orihime always tried her best to keep good faith, but that was always easier said than done, especially for someone like her – high on insecurity, low on the faith that people wanted her for her. It was instinctual – it had happened too many times before for her to write this one off as a coincidence.

After all, she was only a doctor in prison. And between the two of them, only one had professed their love that night.

She had thought that was okay, that Ichigo wasn't the type to say such things openly without preamble, but her fears had been set in stone and nothing could stop the spinning anxiety from whirling into a tornado in her stomach. Now, she wondered if there was an underlying reason behind his hesitance – one that she hadn't been privy to.

Is he using me to escape? she asked herself, not liking the subsequent grue that glided through her body. Surely not?

"Phew, that was the last one," Hanataro announced from behind her, snapping her out of her daze by the running water. "You know, we're pretty clear and steady now. Might be a good time to call the P.I back in?"

Orihime stopped the tap and dried her hands, willing her heartbeat to still into something steady. Something that was recognizable and pre-Ichigo.

"Actually, Hanataro-san," She turned over her shoulder, surprised at how steady her voice sounded, "I think I'm going to take my break now. Do you mind taking over P.I for today?"

If Hanataro was surprised, he didn't show it. He just smiled understandingly. "Of course, Dr. Inoue. You should definitely clock out, it's been a day and a half, these last few days. You deserve some rest, too."

Orihime nodded. Then, she grabbed her purse and her pager, quickly waving goodbye to Hanataro as she booked it out of the infirmary.