I was pretty excited about these following few chapters but I feel like people's interest in this story has kind of fizzled? Either way, I'm still excited, considering we're nearing a lot of Big Things that I'm just itching to write! Hope you guys like this one!

Something was wrong.

That was the first reaction Ichigo had as he walked through the infirmary doors. Spare a few filled beds, it was mostly silent and empty in there.

Ichigo jerked his head around casually, but his ears strained to hear the lilting, cheerful voice that was typically associated with this otherwise dull place. On the door was her name, 'Dr. Inoue Orihime' in bold, but she was nowhere in sight to prove it.

Ichigo watched Hanataro for a moment, then, when he saw that the nurse was busy, he craned his head to spot her around the corridors. Nada. There were the day doctors, a few inmates, a janitor or two. But no Orihime.

"Dr. Inoue went out on her break, you just missed her. She should be back within an hour or two, though," Hanataro said cheerfully, making Ichigo jerk slightly at the sudden noise. He thought he was being inconspicuous, but clearly not, considering Hanataro had noticed.

"Hmm," Ichigo grumbled, following Hanataro inside the clinic. Orihime's absence made him a little queasy because a) she never usually took breaks and b) she never usually took breaks when he was on P.I.

"The riot brought in a lot of patients," Hanataro explained, looking over his shoulder. "I'm sure she's fine, she might just need a breather before she comes back in."

Did he have something on his face? This was getting ridiculous. It was awfully ignorant for him to assume her being gone had something to do with him. She was a doctor, she was busy - she was allowed to take her leave any time she damn well pleased and he couldn't say shit because he didn't own her.

That's what the rational side of his brain screamed. The other one, the one plagued with doubts and a healthy dose of cynicism, couldn't help but feel small; and hate himself for feeling that way in the same breath.

Did she...not want to see him anymore? Had he done something wrong? Had they taken things too fast?

"Kurosaki-san, these floors aren't going to wipe themselves!" Hanataro trilled from behind the broom closet.

It's not about you, asshole, he told himself firmly, trudging up the ward to go wipe those damn floors. She, if anyone, deserved a break and he sure as hell wasn't going to make this something it wasn't. He wouldn't. He poured all his focus into wiping the floors squeaky clean, not once letting himself worry or ponder about her whereabouts.

Orihime didn't come in for the rest of the morning he was there.

x.x

In the wake of the storm, sunny weather had kicked in. Ichigo kicked a clod of soil as he wordlessly came up to Chad, shoulder-to-shoulder. He had returned from a dull P.I hour, just in time for the daily walk in the courtyard.

"P.I fucking sucked," he announced, as a greeting.

"Dr. Inoue wasn't there?" Chad asked, bumping Ichigo's elbow with his.

"Am I that obvious?" Ichigo retorted, shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You don't go there because you like wiping the floors," Chad pointed out kindly, guiding them to a little section away from the other inmates.

They leaned by the chain-link fence, Chad facing inwards while Ichigo turned to regard the little strip of walkway between the parking lot and the main tunnel that led to the penitentiary. The same tunnel they'd talked in all those days ago, where he'd made her laugh for the first time.

Ichigo strained his eyes to spot the cars, trying to guess which one was hers- if it was even in the lot. Then, he decided he was being creepy and looked away.

His eyes fell on a gurney with a white blanket draped over the top, rattling across the gravel as it was escorted by two, grim-looking guards. It didn't take a genius to guess that the body was being carted to the morgue. He gulped, forcing his eyes to look away.

"I wish you would've told me about Abuelo." He jerked his head towards Chad. "I get why you didn't, but I'm your best friend, man. Made a vow to fight your battles for you, didn't I?"

"Thanks Ichigo," Chad replied, giving him a smile. "You're a good man."

Ichigo sighed. "I don't know about that, Chad," he admitted. Chad quirked his brow, nudging him to spill. He shook his head. "I'm not exactly in a 'normal' relationship and it just kills me that I'm fucking this up somehow and I don't even know what I'm doing to fuck up. I just...am."

"You love her," Chad said, the statement sounding more like a question than a fact.

Ichigo closed his eyes painfully. He did. He should have told her he did, right when she said it, but he let the moment pass and now he couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. That it was his fault.

"She'll come around," Chad assured gently, petting his shoulder.

"You don't know that," Ichigo said, a little petulantly, rubbing his brows with one hand.

"I've seen the way she looks at you, Ichigo," Chad insisted. "She'll come around. Be patient."

Ichigo heaved a long sigh, then shook himself out of his funk. There were other things they could always talk about that didn't involve Chad worrying about him. He half-turned to regard Chad with a sly grin. "You're getting married, though," he said, elbowing him. "Decide on a best man, yet?"

"Who do you think?" Chad shot back, with a sincere smile. Ichigo grinned, staring at his feet with the bittersweet pang of happiness that, even if he might have to give up whatever he had with Orihime, he could at least bring his friends the joy they deserved for putting up with him and having his back.

"Dr. Inoue could be a bridesmaid," Chad added, raising a bushy brow like he could read Ichigo's mind.

Ichigo actually let out a short laugh at that, turning once again to regard the walkway. "She'd look nice in white," he admitted, avoiding Chad's gaze as he suddenly felt a bout of shyness trounce his cheeks. "Or pink. Or whatever it is bridesmaids wear, who the hell knows?" She'd look great in a burlap sack, but that was just Ichigo's totally unbiased opinion. "Your boyfriend says we can't be together, though. Prick."

He was only half-joking, but he could see Chad give him a knowing smile. "He's a closet romantic, he'll come around."

Ichigo scoffed at the bizarreness of the situation. Their impending escape still didn't feel real to him, just some foggy, faraway dream that Ishida was supposedly spearheading. And so he wasn't too worried about it, choosing instead to work on the things he could do. Like spend time with Orihime, if he ever saw her again.

"Seems like that's all I'm waiting for people to do these days," he muttered, turning fully at the prospect of not seeing Orihime anywhere. That was when his eyes fell at a far table, where Iba and Renji were sitting with a giant poster behind them. "Chad, I'll be right back," he said suddenly, feeling himself charging forward before Chad could murmur his assent.

He darted up to the table, only just catching up to the tail end of a conversation.

"I told you we weren't going to show anything with 'intent to incite violence,' Ikkaku," Renji was saying with a tired sigh, while Yumichikka was being ushered away by a hollering Ikkaku. Behind him and Iba, the huge poster read 'Movie of the Week - suggestions.'

"I ain't inciting shit! I just wanna see a firefight like a normal guy, the heck is wrong with that?" he was yelling as he marched away. "I swear I'll beat your ass, Iba!"

Iba groaned and leaned back in his seat, peering at Ichigo, who was next in line, through his sunglasses. "Been a while since you asked for a movie, Kurosaki," he noted.

"And before you ask," Renji interrupted, tugging his ponytail. "Al Pacino is 'intent to incite violence,' alright? I'm sorry, kid, but it's still off the list."

"Besides, don't tell me you're on for good behavior," Iba narrowed his eyebrows at Ichigo until they disappeared into the rim of his glasses.

"I got my ass jumped last week," Ichigo said impatiently, running a hand through his hair. "That's automatic 'good behavior list', last I checked."

Iba and Renji regarded each other, then shrugged.

"So," Iba leaned forward and picked up a pen to write down Ichigo's suggestion for 'Movie of the Week.' "What will it be?"

"Godzilla," Ichigo stated bluntly, crossing his arms and looking away as both Renji and Iba gaped at him.

"That would fall under," Renji lifted a sheet and frowned, "sci-fi/horror, wouldn't it? Horror is off-limits, according to the Warden's previously revised list. Besides, there's gore in there, so that's technically 'intent to incite,' too."

Ichigo scowled. "It's Godzilla, man. The shit is CGI."

Iba raised his brows. "Didn't know you felt so strongly about sci-fi, Kurosaki."

Ichigo raised his hand in a wave, already ready to head back. "I don't," he called out. "Just...try not to get this one shelved. It'll be a good watch."

If she shows, he thought, as he walked away.

Renji and Iba exchanged confused glances behind his back, then scribbled 'Godzilla' below the list of suggestions.

As Ichigo began heading back towards the clearing, he felt an arm wrap tightly around his shoulders.

"Ichigo!" Shinji trilled, giving him a toothy grin. "How's it hanging, old friend?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. Ishida had warned him of this, but he hadn't known how truly desperate Shinji must have been if he was approaching Ichigo in the courtyard like this.

"I don't know what to tell you, Shinji," Ichigo said bluntly, lightly pushing his arm off his shoulder. "We're not escaping. Even if we were, it wouldn't be with you."

Shinji raised his eyebrows. "See I wouldn't be talking like that if I were you, Ichigo," he said lightly, but there was a warning edge to it that Ichigo could decipher clear as day.

He snorted. "Why's that?"

Shinji stayed rooted to his spot, running one hand along the shortened bangs of his hair. "Well, you never know," he said with an exaggerated shrug. "You and I might have to end up working together sooner than you think."

Ichigo shook his head, falling in line with the other inmates.

Shinji watched after him, feeling his lecherous grin grow wider by the minute.

x.x

Orihime's faith in the world, in people, was one of the things she prided herself on. So, when she needed reassurance about the good that was out there, she knew she could always depend on the one cynic in the world to play devil's advocate and get her back on track.

"Phew. When you said guy talk I was really hoping it would be some boy-next-door business major who you met at a bar downtown or something. Not a fucking inmate."

Orihime banged her head against her steering wheel, letting out a sniff in perfect synchronization with the soft 'honk.' "I don't go to bars," she pointed out.

"Right. Completely forgot who I was talking to here for a sec." There was a long pause, and Orihime could just tell that Tatsuki was this close to snapping.

"Orihime, what were you thinking?"

There it was.

"Tatsuki-chan, I'm already this close to a meltdown right now, okay? I don't need you to add to it!" She blew heavily into the napkin, no qualms about Tatsuki hearing her.

"Sorry. Listen, are you absolutely sure he was the guy who used the vent? You don't have any evidence to the contrary?"

Orihime considered this for a moment, biting her lip.

"The speed with which he arrived to get me - it's the only theory that makes sense, Tatsuki. Besides, if anyone else had used that vent, don't you think we would have known about it? We were in there for six hours. Other than Ukitake-san, Ichigo and I, there was no one else in there."

"You're sure?"

"Ninety percent. Benefit of the doubt."

Tatsuki scoffed. "Make that ninety-five."

Orihime groaned, throwing her head back "Tatsuki, the entire night we were together, he never once tried to pull anything on me. He didn't run, or escape or coax information out of me. The whole time, it seemed like he only had my well being in mind. That's the only thing convincing me there's more to this story than what I know."

There was an ominous pause. Then,

"You keep saying together. Did you guys have sex?"

Orihime's face turned scarlet. "T-that's not relevant-"

"O-ri-hi-me!" She winced, holding her phone away from her ear. "Argh! Did you at least use protection?"

Orihime's face pulled into a deep scowl that could have rivalled Ichigo's. "I know you're trying to protect me right now but you're sounding very condescending, Tatsuki-chan. I'm a doctor, remember?"

Tatsuki ignored her. "Was he forceful? Violent? Persuasive?"

Orihime smoothed a crinkle down her long skirt, trying to stifle a pout. "He was really gentle and maybe even a little hesitant. He kept checking in with me during, and- and he held me after, Tatsuki. It felt good." To be seen. To be loved, the way she and Ichigo had been with each other.

She heard Tatsuki take a deep breath.

"Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Here's what I need you to do. You're gonna tell the guard what you discovered - the nice guy, with the big red hair, what was his name?"

Orihime sniffed. "Abarai-san."

"Abarai-san. Then, you're gonna head to the closest store, buy a waist strap and a pocket knife - by the way, do you know how to make your own gas bomb? I feel like that might be useful in a close combat situation because I'm not really satisfied with the level of training I gave you before I sent you to Seirei-fucking-tei."

"No to all of that, Tatsuki," Orihime interrupted miserably. "I don't know what to think about Ichigo right now, but I know for a fact that he would never, ever hurt me in the way that you're implying."

There was another silence. Orihime blinked a few times, trying to clear up her blurry vision.

"Look, I hate to play devil's advocate here," Tatsuki began, "but you've rambled about how much you and this guy connect and how you think you've been able to get through to him for at least an hour now and I have to ask: has he ever made you do stuff for him?"

'"Stuff?"

"Sneak in something for him from the outside, bribe you with kisses or pretty words so he could use your phone?"

Orihime frowned. "No. We usually just talk. Last night was the first night we, um, slept together actually."

"And this vent thing? You're absolutely sure this is the first time you've noticed a red flag?" Tatsuki asked.

Orihime nodded, not realizing Tatsuki could see her. Ultimately, Ichigo was the perfect gentleman and she was sure, whether her heart would give out or not, that he was doing his best. Whatever 'best' meant for him.

She suddenly realized Tatsuki was still talking.

"...Orihime, at the end of the day, this guy is a con, alright? You can't trust him, that's a given." Her voice softened. "I know you've been working really hard over there and I'm so proud of you for risking your big, dummy heart to help people but take care of yourself, okay? I'd hate to see you get caught in the crossfire of whatever this guy's got going on."

"Thank you, Tatsuki-chan," she whispered. She couldn't decide where her heart was at the moment, but she knew her mood had slightly improved upon talking to Tatsuki - like always. And she knew she could always trust Tatsuki with the gravest of secrets, the perfect fallback she needed in a moment of crisis.

"And whatever you do, do not confront him about it. We have no idea how he could react."

"Okay," Orihime replied hesitantly, hoping it seemed convincing enough. There was another moment's silence. Orihime watched the line of prisoners heading back in from their daily walk, wondering if she could spot the flash of orange anywhere. If she should.

"So," Tatsuki blew out a breath, finally snapping her out of it. "Was Kurosaki any good in the sack?"

Orihime nearly dropped her phone.

"Tatsuki!" she shrieked.