Disclaimer: I do NOT own Bleach or any of its cahracters

Let's jump in-

There wasn't anyone on the roads as I walked through the city, perhaps they were all in bed, or maybe they were wise enough to not leave their homes this night. The wolves now danced within the walls of my home, but they would soon stalk into the streets, trying to find a few sheep who were foolish enough to scamper away from their safe stone homes.

I was glad for the silence, the only sound of my dress brushing against the dirt path. My red cloak covered most of the pearly white gown, but I could see the dirt slowly making its way up the hem. Perhaps it should have bothered me. But, after tonight, I'd never put on this wretched dress again. Let the dirt destroy it.

The usually mind clearing stairs seemed to go on for eternity, and I wished more than I ever had before that I could fly. Though I suppose if i was gifted with flight, I would have soared far away from this city long ago, away from the cage of its walls. No matter how many times I made the climb, my legs would never be use to it. They shook as I stood on the edge, looking out towards the unusually dark city, though the High Court gleamed with light, looking as if it was made of glass instead of marble.

I went to sit on the ledge, as I had a million times before, when a quiet voice in my head halted me.

'There is a world outside these walls.' It told me.

So instead, I turned on my heel and walked to the other side of the great wall, until I was looking out on the endless desert. The moon and stars impossibly bright, shining on every speck of sand, making them individually sparkle. And it almost looked like the sea, as the wind moved the grains gently, like waves flowing out in the deep, untamed ocean.

I sat, though my ridiculous dress made it nearly impossible, my legs dangling, staring out into that curious world, that was possibly beautiful. A world filled with paintings and flowers and seas... I was twenty one years old, and I had seen none of that world. Had only left these walls when war and traditions had demanded it. What was out there? Was it indeed beautiful like my dreams told me it was? Or was it just as cruel and ugly as the world I already knew?

Her legs must open as wide as her mother's.

The cool night air suddenly seemed chilly against my heated skin. So many things to worry about. So many lives on the line. And yet those words occupied my immediate focus.

How pathetic.

"I am walking up behind you, do not be alarmed. Do not fall off."

And yet another thing to be depressed about. Ichigo sat gracefully beside me, leaning his back against the thick cement barrier, one of his long legs also dangling off the ledge. I avoided his eyes as he faced me fully. He'd been there, I knew he had heard everything. He always seemed to hear everything. My fingernails were suddenly extremely interesting.

I wondered if i would ever be in the same space as him without being humiliated or bloody by the end of it.

"When I was younger," He began, swinging his leg, his foot lightly knocking against mine. "I worked in a flower shop- yeah a flower shop. Super manly, right? Well, all the other boys thought so too. Which is why they threw so many rocks at me."

I looked up slowly, unexpected agitation bubbling in my stomach. "They did what?"

He snickered. "Yeah, but it's alright. Since I made all their sisters fall in love with me." I sighed heavily, eyes rolling, and he rose his hands in front of him, palms out. "No, I'm serious! I gave those girls so many flowers they just couldn't help themselves."

To be given flowers must be quite an affectionate thing in Bellator. Though, imagining it- a young Ichigo, with his same snarky words and alluring smirk, handing a small girl a solitary flower- I couldn't blame them. The image alone was enough to evoke a sliver of a smile from me and he continued softly. "My point is, sometimes people won't like you, sometimes they have valid reasons, and sometimes they have an idea of you that can never be changed." He knocked his foot against mine once more, a silent request.I watched him silently, not bothering to hide the slight devastation that was trying to swallow me whole. He would see it even if I hide it beneath the mask, and I was too drained to care. "But there will also be people who look harder, who will dig their way under the surface, and see you for who you really are. Cherish those people, Orihime, they are preciously rare."

"Is that why you learned to fight? The boys with the rocks?"

Ichigo paused, his blue eyes losing the brightness as he considered his next words carefully.

I didn't try to rush him. I remembered the way Hisagi had cried, I knew Ichigo had a darkness inside him that was hidden deep beneath the laughter and smiles. I turned forward once more. I wondered what kind of terrible things happened in Bellator. I wondered if they were any different than the horrors within these very walls. I had always imagined it as a perfect place, fit for only perfect people, who lived out their happy lives in peace and safety; bellies full and skin unblemished.

But I suppose bad things happen everywhere, to anyone, at any time.

What a world.

It took Ichigo roughly ten minutes to find his courage, and his words. "When my father died, my mother found comfort in liquor. And cigarettes. The drinking calmed her down and the smoking kept her quiet but, when she mixed them together, when the smoke mingled with her drink, she became unhinged. She would burn me, kick me, slice me open. And then, when she awoke the next day, when she looked upon me, at the unhealable terrors she had left on her own child, she'd turn to her drink and begin anew. And even when I got older and stronger, even when I could have stopped her, I let her do it. It was easy to forgive her, I'd always understood how hard it probably was for her, to look at me and see so much of him."

What could you say to something like that? There weren't any words in any language, in any time, that could possibly heal such a deep and festered wound. I knew better than any. And only for one brief, selfish moment did I allow myself to feel comfort in his tragedies. For we had unknowingly shared something no one could see, scars that went beneath our flesh and into our very bones. Scars so entwined with us that we would take them with us into our next lives. And because he had shared so much, had left himself so bare before me, I decided to trust him with my tragedy as well.

"Training to be Heir had been hard." I began, bracing my mind for the upcoming swarm of repressed memories. "I don't remember when it started really, looking back I can't recall a time when a sword wasn't in my hand. I never knew if the ache in my body was from my bones growing or from the beatings. Yes, it had been hard... but after the trails, I thought things would be different. I had defeated my brothers, I had proven myself, and now life would be easy. What a child I was." I picked at my dirty nails. My mind screamed at me to stop, but I ignored it. "Not even a week later I was thrown into the pits. There are a lots of monsters that dwell in that place, monsters hidden beneath human faces. My shoulder wasn't healed yet, it slowed me down, but still I fought." I defended. "Fought until I couldn't see, until I was sure I would die from the exhaustion alone, but in the end it didn't change anything. Once my strength was gone it took no time at all for them to over power me. They stripped me and strapped me down, there were three of them I think, I've found that I can't quite remember that bit. Though everything else haunts me still But I do know that I had never known pain like that. Even with the beats and the trials, I never knew such a pain existed. Not just my body but my mind and my soul bled that day."

Sudden and unstoppable tears streaked down my face. But they were not brought on by sadness. No, I had cried all of those tears many years ago. I had choked on my anger until it was all that was left.

"I don't know how long I was down there before Clark came. I remember being embarrassed, I remember trying to cover myself. Though, he didn't look at my body, he stared into my eyes. To this day I still wish I'd known what he'd wanted to see that day, wish I could have known what to force into my eyes, but whatever it was he saw, it wasn't enough. I was tortured down there for weeks, every inch of my body was cut open, my fingernails ripped out. They left my face alone though, it's the only part of me that has remained unscarred. Appearances have always been important to him." I brushed a finger down my cheek, where I could still feel Clarks nail cutting through the skin. "At least they use to…" I shook it off. "It's taken me years to figure out what he had wanted to see in my eyes that day. Nothing. He'd wanted me so broken beyond repair so that, even with the gashes and the pain, I would look at him with no feeling in my eyes, to feel nothing at all. For me to see that death would have to be earned.

"And even when the torturing stopped, I didn't leave that cold, dark place. I healed down there, my body growing a new; away from the light. I don't know what I had been before it all, but who she was doesn't matter, the real Orihime Inoue was born down in those pits."

I looked at him then, my strength returning at last. I would not be ashamed of what had made me who I was, I would not hide behind my past. I decided instead to wear my tragedies as armor, instead of shackles. I could never admit what I expected but it was not to find his face, normally so controlled, covered in tears. His eyes, usually laced with mischief, shined with deep emotion. Not pity, thank the Gods, but remorse. Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks at the sight but I refused to break his stare, I couldn't let go of this moment quite yet. I had never told a soul about my time down in the pits, and sharing such a deep, broken part of me had me feeling more vulnerable than I had in years. But I welcomed the unknown feeling, it was so rare for me to feel anything at all.

"And of the men?" He asked, venom filling his voice. "What became of them?"

I knew nothing human showed on my face as a smile formed on my lips. "I took them apart. Piece by bloody piece. Kept them breathing as I took everything out of them, until there was nothing left, until the Gods themselves couldn't possibly put them back together." It was the worst thing I had ever done and was perhaps the fondest memory I had. Kept tucked away into the darker parts of my mind, where the demon within me could savor every detail. "They had taken something so important, so pure away from me. And so, I'd taken their lives as payment."

"Good."

One word, whispered to me over the wind, was all it took.

"Orihime, there you are!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin, my face flying to the sound of a male's voice. I found Ryley, heaving himself over the barrier, his long limbs awkwardly steadying his weight. Panic rising, I whirled towards Ichigo, only to find him already gone, leaving nothing but stone before me. I laid my hand against the barrier he had been leaning against, the warmth his body left behind the only indication that he had been there at all.

My attention was still on the stone when Ryley plopped down beside me, bumping his shoulder against mine. "I was looking for you, what brought you so far from the celebration?"

I discreetly wiped the tears from my cheek before bringing my hand to rest in my lap, looking out into the dark world before me. "I've never been one for parties." I stated, simply. Not entirely a lie. "I'm not exactly social, if you haven't noticed."

Ryley relaxed at my joking tone, going as far as to grab my hand, weaving our fingers together, before he laughed. "Who needs parties anyway."

I felt strangely embarrassed by our joined hands, wondering if Ichigo was watching from wherever he'd disappeared to. I couldn't feel his eyes, but I'd come to realize these most recent months that I only felt them when he allowed me to. He could easily stick to the shadows, but he always appeared when he wanted to banter, when he wanted to play.

"Do you miss the North?" My mouth said suddenly.

He blinked, then snickered. "Well, yes- and no. I suppose I just miss the comfort of being in my own home. Being a guest can become rather tiresome after awhile. "

"You're not really a guest, this whole kingdom will be yours soon."

"No, it will never be mine. It will be my wife's. My kingdom will always be the cold eternal winter up in the mountains."

I could understand his point. If I had been married off to a foreign court, to go live in a strange new kingdom, I would have always felt like an outsider. I squeezed his fingers, "I'm sorry, Ryley. I realize I've selfish, not even thinking about what you're leaving behind." He sat up straighter, as if he would object, but I continued. "Perhaps we could visit the North? I'd also like to see it again." Not entirely true but I wouldn't mind a month or two away from my responsibilities, from my father.

His face lit up, and it fueled my decision. I suppose I had been more selfish than I'd realized, for something so small to bring him such happiness. Then his smile faltered slightly, he looked down at our joined hands, his thumb caressing my skin. "Would the king allow it? You have so many duties here."

"I can be convincing when I want to be. Besides, I belong half to the North now, whether he likes it or not." I was downplaying it. I knew it would take long hours of paperwork and meetings, to free up my schedule for such a long trip. But it was a small sacrifice in comparison to all of his.

"Do you..." he lifted our hands so he could brush the back of his hand across my cheek, "Do you really feel that way?"

So much desperation in that question, though I could sense the trust layered in within it, as he handed me a tool that could shatter his heart. Yet I knew, no matter how I answered, he would find a way to accept it. But there would be no point to hurt him, when we were forever bound to one another. Words could wound as deeply as any blade, and they were the only weapon I refused to use.

So, as his lips neared mine, I whispered the only word I could, "Yes,"

I could feel his breath on my mouth, and my eyes closed. His soft lips inches away- when a clatter of swords and spears falling to the stones had us jolting apart.

The wooden storage rack was lying on its side, all of it weapons scattered around it.

"Perhaps the wind?" Ryley suggested, as he got up, walking to lift the heavy case back onto its legs.

I mumbled my agreement, looking around as I moved to help him.

We made quick work of the mess. And Ryley once again took my hand, and- with the moment gone- I let him lead me to the long staircase. We chattered easily, walking through the city. As we passed people lowered their heads, some smiling at our entwined hands.

But I couldn't lose myself in the conversation, my mind was still on the top of the wall. And I had no doubt that the 'wind' was now trailing behind us, keeping his night colored eyes trained on our backs, until we disappeared within the court's walls.

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Oh Ichigo you sly, jealous dog you.

This was a heavy chapter I know.. But I somehow feel lighter after writing it.

Till next time-