Hi everyone! I've missed this story so much, and I feel so good after writing more of it.

I hope this chapter reminds you why any of us are even here to begin with ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters!

The warmth of the fire was what lured me to sleep.

Among the snores and grunts of sleeping northern men, I dreamed vividly of Ichigo. He sat alone in the tiny restaurant overlooking the square, a book on the table in front of him.

I watched him from across the empty room, his attention wholly transfixed on the words before him. I studied the furrow of his brow, and the way his hair brushed the shell of his ear and realized I'd never had the chance to observe him so closely. In all the weeks I'd known him, I'd never been in a room with him where his attention was not already consumed with me.

I'd never been allowed to mark the natural curve of his lower lip, how even when relaxed it pulled slightly up in the corners. Suddenly, red bloomed in his cheeks, and laughter rumbled from his throat. It made me take a step toward him.

And then halt as the young waitress appeared at his side, setting a plate of food atop his book. He looked up at her and beamed in a way I'd never seen before. Ichigo so casually wound an arm around her waist and she sat easily in his lap, as if they'd done so countless times before.

A darkness loomed, from around me and inside me and swallowed me up.

...

Blood dripped from the tip of my finger where I'd pricked it on the dagger in my grip. I stared as the blood flowed down the digit.

"Careful, little one,"

I didn't look up at the voice, "It's just a small cut,"

"And yet still it bleeds." The voice was close behind me now. Then the wielder of it was kneeling before me, squeezing the tip of my finger until I flinched back and the blood hit the floor.

"See, Flower, even small wounds can hurt you."

"Leave the bastard be, Sora." That voice made me flinch harder than any pain.

But the kind voice spoke again, drowning out that fear, he smoothed my hair from my forehead, "Be mindful, Orihime, don't let the wound fester."

...

I fell into my own body, as if from a great height. I was standing on a balcony in nothing but my skin, the morning sun warming every piece of me. I felt fingers glide their way up my arms, raising goosebumps in their wake. I was leaning back against a strong chest, my head dropping back as lips skimmed the sensitive skin of my neck.

"Will you remember me while I'm away?"

I wanted to lurch away from the voice, my sense of self straining as my body moved without my consent, against my will. Turning to look into Grimmjow's face, softer than I'd ever seen it, kinder. He smiled down at me, as my hands came up to cradle his face, my thumb lightly tracing his lips. My attention caught on my fingers, perfect, uninterrupted skin stared back, hands too soft and gentle to have ever held the hilt of a sword.

"I will remember you with every blink of my eye and breath of my lungs," I promised in a voice not my own.

And when I strained upward, to replace the tracing of my thumb with my lips, I screamed and screamed. With not even an echo resounding.

I awoke the next morning with a kink in my neck and a throbbing behind my eyes.

My mood did not improve given the fact that the sun was barely visible past the clouds and the men were heaving against the door in an attempt to get it open.

I stepped beside Cuyler, rubbing at the knot where my shoulder met my neck, "What's all the fuss about?'

"Blizzard came through while we were all sleeping." Cuyler explained, aggravation in his own voice, "It must have been a long one, the snow is covering the stairs, we can't get the door open."

Calligan's face was beginning to turn purple as he used all his might, and substantial body weight, against the door to no avail. I asked,"Why does the door even open outwards?"

Cuyler sighed harshly, "Do you think I built the tower?" I hadn't even turned to look at him before he amended, "I'm sorry. I didn't get much sleep last night."

I kept my attention on the effort to free us as I said, "Was it the snores or the smell that kept you up?"

The teasing was lost on him, "Just some odd dreams. Nothing a long walk can't fix,"

"You wanna try it?" Calligan snapped back.

I waited for Cuyler to lash out, but he only said, "Even if I did get it open you'd still take the credit. Might as well let you finish what you started."

"You might be an old man by the time he moves it an inch," Jacob said.

"Older," I stressed.

Cuyler snapped his neck to look at me, "I don't see you waking up to save the day."

I pulled my gloves from my coat pocket, pulling them on, "I thought I'd give you men the chance to earn your bravado before I stripped it away."

I walked up the few steps to get to the long landing. The narrow window was cut from the stone jaggedly and sat a few feet above my head. Easily enough I leapt and pulled myself up onto the sill and jumped down; the snow was cushion enough.

My hair was dripping and my tunic was soaked but I got the door open within a few minutes.

"Your prince has come to rescue you, fair maidens," I bowed deep, "Fear not, I will not harm you."

They all cheered, then quickly ran out to do their business.

"If I was a foot shorter and a hundred pounds lighter…" Calligan started.

Cuyler snorted, "You still wouldn't have been able to do a pull up,"

The humor and sense of victory quickly died out as Cuyler examined the road. The snowfall made it impossible to get the wagon through, and it would take days to shovel out a trench wide enough.

"Looks like the sun will be strong today, we can only hope it holds out. We get any more snowfall, we might have to abandon the cart altogether."

"We only have one more tower left, could we make it on foot?" I wasn't sure whether I'd prefer a yes or a no. If I never saw a fleck of snow again, I would worship the Gods diligently for the rest of my days. However, if we could place the witchfire and make it back to the town in a few days time it would put me on the fast track back home.

"It would take a good tracker, there won't be a road to follow." Cuyler examined the cart once more, "And we would have to split the party. We don't need all the remaining witchfire to complete the task, someone would need to stay back and guard what's left."

I considered, "You know these lands, you should take however many men you need and I will stay back to watch over the rest."

He was already shaking his head, "I don't want to leave you alone here."

"I won't be alone,"

"That's what I'm worried about."

I paused, glancing into the faces of the men gathered near the entrance of the tower. They were not watching us, but their bodies were pivoted in our direction. "Do you believe I have anything to fear from them?"

Cuyler looked as if he had an answer on the tip of his tongue, perhaps the answer he wanted to be able to give me but with a moment of thought, he swallowed it down. "I'd rather be prepared for anything, than be ill prepared."

It sounded so much like what I'd tried to teach Rylee. Sounded so much like my own voice inside my head, telling me to find the words unspoken, the twitching of eyes or the pursing of lips. It was that voice that would never, not even for a single moment, allow me to know peace.

"Do you have one among them you would trust alone with the witchfire?"

"I do."

I took a deep breath, and with my exhale, relinquished my sense of control, "Alright. These are your lands, your people, I will trust your judgment."

He only nodded, "I'll send them out immediately. It should only take a day or two for most of the snow to melt and we will follow them home."

There was little for the few of us left behind to do. The first few hours I spent gathering wood for our fires, and accidentally gathered enough to last us long after we returned to town. After that, there was still too much time left in the day to sleep, though that was all I wanted to do.

The men left behind began to build forts made of ice and snow to pass the time. Though Cuyler warned them that all of the liquor had been sent with the larger party to the next tower, so their numb limbs and wet clothes would have no source of reprieve once they tried to sleep.

It mattered not to any of them.

I spent the rest of the day sitting on the cart with the witchfire, which kept me surprisingly warm, and watched them have their frozen fun.

When the sun began to set, Cuyler came to sit with me. "If you can survive a few more minutes more out here, I have a surprise for you,"

"You've got my attention,"

He moved in close, whispering, "We just have to wait for the last of them to head inside."

"Is this a surprise I want, or am I going to have to punch you in the stomach?"

He bellowed out a laugh so loud he nearly missed the cart on his way to sit, "No physical violence necessary. This time,"

He withdrew his jacket just enough to show the neck of the bottle of whiskey hidden inside. I raised a brow and he put a finger to his lips, "I snagged it before they left. I figured if anyone deserved it, it was us."

I snickered, and Cuyler peeked over my head, "Okay, the cost is clear." he popped the cork and offered me the bottle, "No glasses for the dishonest. Care for the first swig?"

Taking the bottle, I took two mouthfuls, grimacing as I gave it back, "Yeah, still tastes like piss."

"Beggars can't be choosers." He drank, "But when you're right, you're right."

"I never really drink back home, so I'll have to trust your judgment on when I should be cut off."

"You have my word. I might ask a few embarrassing questions first but after that, you've got it." He grinned as if joking but I had no doubt he wasn't.

My breath fogged the night air, "Seems unfair," I took another gulp, "I should be able to ask you whatever I want while we are both sober then,"

"I'll be sober the entire time, but go ahead and ask me whatever you'd like."

I hadn't thought I'd get this far. I had quite a few questions that came to mind but I was much too sober to ask them, fearful I'd actually remember the answers.

"Maybe I should just ask you what you plan to ask me,"

"That wasn't a question,"

I just stared at him, while taking another sip. It began to warm its way into my lips and chest, I hoped my fingers would be next.

Cuyler thought for a moment, "I'd ask what you really think of my little brother, I don't think I've gotten a real answer any other time."

And he wasn't about to, "Then what do you think of him?"

He took the bottle back, drinking, "He and I are very different, he can get under my skin like any of my brother's can, but he's never known when enough is enough. Regardless, he's family."

"A very diplomatic answer," I said.

"I've had plenty of practice,"

I continued drinking, hating the taste but loving the effects. "Perhaps I should ask what you think of me then, since I feel I haven't gotten a real answer on that either."

He quickly grabbed the bottle back, chugging more than he had this entire time. When he came up for air, he handed it back. "You know how I see you,"

"Tell me again,"

He searched my expression, and I felt I had lost control of it, "You're like a sister to me. I've always seen you that way, which is why I'm confused why suddenly I-" his exhale fogged the space between us, "It's been too long since I've seen you, I guess I'm still figuring how to navigate adult you."

I hummed around the bottle.

"I'll wait to ask you once you'd had more to drink," He grinned.

"I don't think you want to know the answer,"

"You're probably right,"

He took the whiskey back, and held it in both hands, as if he were protecting it from me and himself from the truth it would pull out. "Already out of questions?"

"Why have you never married?" I asked, seriously.

He laughed, "You have no shame, you know that?"

I shrugged, waiting. When he didn't immediately answer, I probed, "There was never anyone you fancied?"

"Of course, there have been many."

"All of them fleeting?"

"I've just always felt it suffocating. The notion that once I make that sort of choice, there is nothing short of death that can change it. And I-" He sighed, "I don't want to become my parents. There was never any love between them, only obligation."

"Is that a choice you're even allowed to make?" He lifted a brow in question, "You are the heir to the north, surely your father expects you to have a lineage of your own?"

"I don't think he has ever put much thought into it. Before you, he never even mentioned any of us marrying."

"And your mother's never brought it up?"

"Oh, now she is a different story. Any of us even look too long at a woman and she's imagining what her grandchildren will look like." His tone was full of affection, "Though, I don't think even she would have anticipated one of us marrying the Heir. She had her hesitations, but I think after this trip that's all behind us. Rylee has always been her favorite, so you could have had horns and a tail and she would have loved you."

I felt the need to defend her, "She would never love one of you more than the others."

He just shrugged, not even bothering to argue.

"You don't think you will ever marry, then?"

"Never say never. Who knows, maybe I'll walk into town in a few days and meet the girl who changes my mind about it all."

He made it sound like I would have to grow horns and a tail before that happened.

"What about Rylee? Has he ever…. Well, has he ever been with another woman?"

Cuyler laughed a bit awkwardly, his hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. "That's something you'll have to ask him. He never brought anyone to family dinner if that's what you're asking."

It wasn't. I wanted to know if he would have certain expectations of me, or have any preconceived notion of what I desperately did not want to give him.

Cuyler bumped me with his shoulder, "Don't think too hard about it,"

"I won't." I promised.

"What about you? Was there anyone you ever wanted to marry?"

I see we have moved onto his round of questioning, "My experience with men has never been that of being courted."

His expression seemed doubtful, "What has your experience been then?"
"I train them to kill, and I'm never very nice about it."

"Sounds like something a few men I know would be into,"

I laughed under my breath. I felt I should probably change the subject, given that I was engaged to his brother but didnt know how to do it organically.

"There was never anyone you fancied?"

My heart jumped into my throat, "Using my own shameless questions against me?"

"All's fair and all that,"

I stared into the stars, suddenly wishing I could disappear into them. "I am human, Cuyler, despite the stories."

He gasped and bumped my shoulder again, "You dog! What's he like, this boy who caught your heated attention?"

My cheeks felt so hot I'd bet they could melt the snow, "I've never acted on it!"

"The poor soul, I doubt he ever suspected."

"I wouldn't put it past him,"

"Ah, so he is still around. That must be… complicated?"

I could tell he was trying to lead me into telling him more, and it might have been the whiskey still warm in my chest but I never wanted this conversation to end. "A bit,"

"What's he like then? I have to know the kind of person you'd express interest in,"

Now I was laughing nervously, "I don't know, what do you imagine him to be like?"

He took another mouth full, before handing me the bottle for me to do the same, then he rubbed at his chin, deep in thought. "Tall, of course. I imagine he wouldn't have much interest in military matters, that would be too on the nose. Someone artsy maybe? Like a chef to cook you good food. He would have to have a big personality, so he can fill your silence. Am I close?"

My head felt fuzzy, and I couldn't stop the excited buzzing of my limbs, "Surprisingly, yes."

"I've had too much experience in these types of things."

"Evidently," I took another gulp, feeling so heavy yet entirely weightless. "He is much too good for me,"

Cuyler grabbed the bottle from my hands, drinking, "I doubt that very much,"

I looked down at my hands in my lap, the useless, empty things, "He has seen so much of the world, he has experienced so much. I have never felt so inexperienced as I do when I am with him." I laid back, gaze following the path of the clouds and sky, "I wish I could bottle up his voice and carry it with me always so I could listen to his stories wherever I go,"

"It sounds as if you've known him for a long time,"

I smiled, "No. But I will know him for the rest of my life, and I fear it will not be enough."

"I didn't know you were capable of such beautiful words."

"You do not know me as well as you think you do,"

"If I felt for anyone the way you feel for this mystery man, I do not think I would have such reservations about marriage."

"I would," I say, "I would much rather wake up each day and choose, than wake up each day with the choice already made for me. You are right to fear the absence of love, I can tell you that it is no way to live."
"Orihime, I think you are drunk,"

"I am,"

"I don't think I should let you tell me anything else,"

"You should not,"

I did not realize my eyes were closed until I felt a rough finger brush a snowflake from my eyelashes. "Tell me one more thing, and then I will be the man my mother taught me to be, what is the name of the man who holds your affection? Tell me so I can come to terms with it,"

Except it was already too late, I was already on my way to oblivion, but I shouted it inside my mind. Shouted it down the bond hidden deep in my mind.

Ichigo.

.

.

.

Fangirl screeeeechhhh

Is this moment of acceptance all you thought it would be, because I cant believe it myself, my baby is all grown up accepting things :')