It's been a while hasn't it? Well im back with another chapter for you all to read an enjoy, but before we delve into the chapter itself, there's something id like to take a moment to discuss with you all.
By now, I've been contacted by a number of reviwers informing about the new Bleach light novel, Cant Fear Your Own World, which takes place after the final battle with Yhwach but before the final two chapters. It's gone into detail about many things, such as the origins of the soul society, the soul king, and other interesting things.
I want you to all know that I have been aware of it for sometime. Some of the things mentioned may be used in this story down the line, so you don't have to worry about that...There is one thing however that I will absolutely not be doing. the novels attempt at "fixing" Bambietta's current situation...Needless to say I feel that it crashed and burned in hell with that attempt.
I am not a fan of how Bambietta was treated in the light novel, which tried to make her relationship with Giselle more "acceptable" and "willing"...But no amount of writing that novel could have sold me would convince me that this is a "healthy" relationship. It's abusive, make no mistake. I know Bambietta herself was no angel...but to try to make something like that "acceptable"...is personally insulting to me as a fan of her character.
I'll be doing a much, MUCH different take on Bambietta and Giselle in this story. Something that I hope fans of both characters can appreciate. A much more healthy relationship. While I may enjoy many of twhat some consider the "questionable" moments in Bleach's cannon such as the Final Getsuga Tenshou...This relationship is not one of them. If your expecting a repeat of that here...Well, I would rather die.
I will be using things from CFYOW...But not that. Not in a million years.
But that's enough about CFYOW. Let us return to the Life and Death of Erza Scarlet.
"How is it now?"
The holo-image, an ethereal, pale blue projection, flickered and glitched. Nozomi saw the image of the plan they had been working on turn on and off rapidly, a dozen times within a second, before it finally died off, the projector going dark.
"It's getting a little better?" she said encouragingly.
"That means it's still not working," muttered Urahara. The scientist was on his hands and knees, fiddling with the home-made projector he'd made from scratch in his lab. He was sweaty, and he'd long since discarded his hat, and it was anything but a dignified look for him with his face down and his rear end up, face all but glued to the small plinth where he'd housed the custom-made device.
Even so, Nozomi couldn't help but smile as she saw him there, muttering curses under his breath as he struggled to get the technology to work. He was a genius. A genius stifled by a lack of resources, but a genius nonetheless, and seeing this brilliant man hard at work, doing what he loved… it made something stir inside her. She felt like she could have watched him for hours.
He'd worked on it for a couple of days now, before calling her in to have a look. She wasn't sure what spare electronics he'd requisitioned, but it seemed to have consumed most of the space in his lab, as his pet projects usually did. Wires, electrical casings, couplings… there was technology here she recognized from home, some of it clearly spiritual in nature. Other parts were alien to her, probably human in design.
"Come on, you ridiculous piece of junk…" Kisuke muttered. "Do not make me run across town to get a new part again! Oh- shit!"
He swore to himself again as there was a spark. Some electricity seeming to have burned his finger; the rogue scientist flicked a hand with a hiss of pain, before quickly returning to his labour. This disregard for personal health, this total commitment to his project… Nozomi knew it would freak out most people. Personally, she found it admirable.
"Need any help?" she asked. "Anything I can get?"
"No. No," he said distractedly. "I think I almost got it…"
"You've said that before, I think." Nozomi said mildly.
"Surely not."
"Three times, actually."
"Oh. Well, I'm right this time."
"You've said that before, too."
"Young lady, I know what I'm doing."
"I am starting to question that," said Nozomi, a chuckle under her breath.
"I am completely and utterly in control of the situation," said Urahara, completely heedless of how much he was tempting fate- and superstition aside, the irregularity of his work made such a statement a little ridiculous on its own, "and I am all but finished in creating the bare essentials for this stupid piece of junk!"
"If you say so," Nozomi said, watching with intrigued skepticism.
To her surprise, the holo-image flickered back to life, fluctuating a couple of times before finally stabilizing.
"How about now?"
"Good, actually," Nozomi said, impressed.
"Ha!" said Urahara, finishing his fiddling before closing up the casing, standing up with a grin on his face.
"What's it for?" said Nozomi. She was no stranger to holo-projection; in fact, it was a common enough feature in the science department she had left behind. The image she looked at, though, was indistinct. She could get the sense of cubic shapes, but it was all a bit… fuzzy.
"Behold," said Urahara, thumbing a remote. With some effort, and a few more muttered curses, he managed to manifest the image he had been looking for.
"Karakura Town," said Nozomi, fascinated, observing the model. It was a very accurate model of Karakura, albeit not highly detailed, rendered in digital blues and whites.
"No. No," said Urahara, shaking his head. "Look closer. It's more than that."
Normally, with most people, Nozomi noted, he'd happily launch into a long explanation of his accomplishment in an informative manner that left no doubt about his superior knowledge on the subject. For her, though, he asked her to deduce it for herself.
"It's…. Karakura, centered around the areas richest with spiritual matter," she said, furrowing her brows. "It stops at the perimeters we guard. There's not much to the outskirts of the city. Is it part of a defense plan?"
"You're getting closer," said Urahara with a smile, shaking his head. "Look again. What could you do with these plans?"
Nozomi focused, putting the neatly structured layers of her artificial brain at work, scanning through the data at a speed normal souls could only dream of.
"It's… a theoretical model synchronizing the entire area with the kind of spiritual wavelength that the Soul Society exists on," she said, wide-eyed. "With enough reishi as fuel, you could temporarily move the city premises into a non-permanent part of the Soul Society itself, leaving the inhabitants behind. This… it's quite brilliant. I'd never have thought of that."
"I know," said Urahara, a little smugly. Nozomi let him have the moment of self-satisfaction. He'd earned it, as far as she was concerned.
"Is this something you intend on going ahead with?"
"The commander is keen on avoiding civilian casualties," said Urahara, "and the captain-commander would very much like to deny that scheming bastard the opportunity to form the King's Key. When the battle comes, it'll take place somewhere he cannot touch his prize without first killing us all."
"That's incredible," Nozomi murmured, staring, her gaze fixed. That the idea could be conceived was not too strange, but that one man had managed to construct a working model of it… the amount of data processing something this enormous would take was something only somebody like Nozomi could appreciate.
"It's a very rough model," said Urahara, with semi-genuine modesty, "but, well… I believe it will be necessary."
"How much is there left to finish?" said Nozomi eagerly.
"About… oh, eighty odd percent is left," Urahara muttered casually.
"And, how much time will it take to finish?"
"Alone? Quite some time."
"Use me," Nozomi said eagerly. "You know how much I can do, what I can process."
"I was counting on it," said Urahara with a smile. "We're together in this, after all."
"I'll make a call to the Gotei," she said. "I'll see what help I can get from there. This will be of vital importance-"
"None of Mayuri's goons," said the scientist sharply. "I do not trust him further than I could throw him."
"Of course not," said Nozomi, "but there is quite a lot of technical equipment we could use, right?"
"…That would be helpful, yes."
"I'll petition the captain-commander," said Nozomi. "If anyone can get his ear, it's Erza, and I have her ear."
"Thanks," said Urahara sincerely, "although I've got that part covered. I'll run the idea past him this evening."
"Then I'll make sure to do my part," said Nozomi, eager to be of help.
"I couldn't do it without you," said Urahara with a nod, quite sincere. "You've become quite… essential as of late."
It took Nozomi a second to realize that she was blushing.
"S-so," she said, "the idea is to first envelop the entire area in spiritual energy? But, where will we get the power?"
"I thought you'd never ask," said Urahara with a grin. "We'll draw it from all sorts of places, of course. We'll need some generators for that…"
As he launched into a complex, technical explanation of his theory, Nozomi listened, enraptured, only briefly cutting in to ask a question or clarify here and there. This was, despite the severity of it all, fun.
Orihime was surprised to find Rukia waiting for her after school, in a gigai, looking every part the normal human girl. She had finished her duties for the day and had decided to spend some time of her own with a friend.
Nevertheless, Orihime considered it a welcome surprise; Tatsuki had run off for training with Yoruichi, and it was nice to have somebody to walk home from school with. They walked together, talking first only of inconsequential, everyday matters, like the subjects at school, tests, what so-and-so had said to his girlfriend at lunch…
It was Orihime who first fell silent.
"Orihime?" said Rukia, surprised. "Something the matter?"
"It's nice, this," Orihime said, looking around her. She paused.
"What do you mean?" said Rukia.
"Look around," said Orihime. "The sun is shining. It's a beautiful summer day, and it's warm without being too hot. We're walking home together like we're just a couple of normal girls. How… long can we actually do that?"
Rukia sighed. "War is a heavy burden to thrust onto children," she said, shaking her head.
"I made my choice," said Orihime, "but… lately, I've been wondering."
"Wondering about what?"
Rukia's tone was attentive, curious, concerned. She was quite the actress when she needed to be, but right now, she seemed to wear her emotions on her sleeve. It was easy to forget that she was a hundred and fifty years old sometimes, a veteran of conflicts Orihime could only imagine.
"I'm… stronger now," said Orihime, "than I was before. I can do more than ever. I don't need to be afraid of any old hollow. But… what's coming next is going to be so much different. I've seen these arrancar… Grimmjow, even when he was weak and sealed down, he was frighteningly strong and fast. Ruthless. And he was one of the better ones. He had to be. This war…"
"It's natural to be afraid," said Rukia reassuringly. "Only a fool would face something like this without fear. We shinigami are no different. I won't disrespect the choice you made by telling you that you could sit on the sidelines- but still, you won't be a frontline fighter. As a healer, your role will be-"
"I'm not afraid of fighting," said Orihime, abruptly interrupting Rukia. "I am afraid of dying, but I've been close enough before that I can manage it. I think. I hope. But… what I'm really afraid of isn't that."
"What is it, then?" said Rukia, surprised.
"I'm afraid I won't be of any real use," she said, shaking her head. "You have good medics. You'll have a whole division of them ready when the battle comes. I'm not experienced. My abilities… they have their limits. I'm strong, but compared to people like Ichigo… I'm nothing."
"Orihime…"
"What I'm afraid of," said Orihime, taking a deep breath, "is that I'll get in the way. That people will have to go out of their way saving me. That I'll be more of a nuisance."
"You'll never be a nuisance," Rukia said firmly.
"You say that, but we're friends," said Orihime, a small smile on her face.
"You are unique," said Rukia, "not just as a person, but in what you can do. Believe you me, you will be needed, and the people you save will be grateful."
"That's what I'm trying to tell myself," said Orihime with a sigh.
"Listen," said Rukia, shaking her head, "you can't compare yourself to people like Ichigo. He's a freak of nature. And kind of a knucklehead, if we're honest."
"A nice knucklehead," said Orihime with a giggle.
"He is," Rukia said, smiling at the thought of him, "an idiot, but… the right kind of idiot. And more importantly, not the kind of idiot you should compare yourself to."
"It's hard not to, you know," said Orihime. "He was first in it. I've known him since I was a kid. He was the only point of reference we had for a while…"
"Trust me, he's an anomaly." Rukia muttered. "Actually, about that…"
"Yes?"
"I've read the reports about that mask he can use these days," Rukia said, the concern in her voice intensifying. "I've seen it from afar when he trains. It is… a dark power. Do you know anything about it?"
"Why would I?" Orihime said, surprised.
"I don't know," said Rukia, shrugging. "You two seem close. Friendly."
"We're not that close," said Orihime, hoping the change in her tone wouldn't be spotted. He had been on her mind a lot as of late, and the way she thought of him was… changing.
"If you say so," said Rukia, leaving it at that, "but I was wondering… when did it happen? The hollow thing?"
"Visored," Orihime corrected her. "That's what they call it."
"Visored?"
"Like a knight's visor, I think," said Orihime thoughtfully. "Just think of it… he's sort of like a knight, in bony armour. I guess he'd need to ride some sort of bony horse as well. With bone armour. And fire in its eyes, and cyborg organs and a laser beam on its head-"
"Focuse. Focus," Rukia said with a chuckle. "A… visor, you say?"
"It's the hollow made manifest, he said," Orihime nodded. "It's all about will. He has to struggle with it all the time. He has to carry such a burden, so much more than me…"
"How, though?" said Rukia. "How did it happen? He wasn't like that… before."
"I'm not sure," said Orihime, "but… there was this one thing."
"What?"
Orihime sighed. "I guess it's not a secret… well, not to somebody like you, at least."
"I won't insist if it's private."
"No, it's alright," said Orihime, shrugging. "Some time ago, like a month, I was staying over at his house. I found him up at night, and he looked like hell. Harrowed. He told me all about it. A hollow in his head, trying to eat his mind. He made me swear not to tell anyone at the time. Said he had to work it out himself."
"I told you, if it's private-"
"Everyone knows now, don't they?" said Orihime, shrugging. "He clearly doesn't care to hide it. Plus… you're a friend. You wouldn't take this somewhere it doesn't belong."
"I swear it," said Rukia firmly.
Orihime giggled.
"You almost sounded like your brother there," she said, shaking her head, "all serious and honourable."
"D-don't be ridiculous," Rukia muttered. "I could never…"
"Any-waay," Orihime continued, "it ate at him. Obviously he fixed it somehow, but… I think it's part of him. I think it's something he'll never get away from. It's made him strong, though. So very strong…"
"I told you, don't compare yourself to him," Rukia muttered absent-mindedly, digesting what Orihime had said. "He wrestles with this… all the time?"
"I think so," said Orihime. "I don't think he talks much about it, except with those people who train with him. Except to me. He talks to me about it, sometimes."
"It sounds like you're the one he relies on, then," said Rukia with a sage nod, "for something that's incredibly important to him."
"We're good friends."
Rukia gave her a strange look, then nodded. "Friends."
"Of course. What else?"
"Nothing," said Rukia innocently. "Only, it sounds like he leans on you a whole lot."
"…Anyway," said Orihime, aware of where the conversation was heading, "that's um, that's about all I know. Even with what he's telling me, I don't understand too much. I don't know where it came from, or how it works. I know it's made him very strong, very fast- maybe it's why he's so unusually powerful."
"Maybe," said Rukia, sounding intrigued.
"You don't think he'll get into trouble, do you?" said Orihime anxiously, "I know how the Gotei feels about hollows…"
"I believe your mother would tear anyone who tried to approach him with a blade apart," said Rukia, "and for what it's worth, even my revered brother has made no report that I know of, and he is not one to hide dissatisfaction with something like this. These are strange times, Orihime. A lot of people who were supposed to be executed, myself included, were spared. The times are changing… hell, we even have an arrancar on our side. When the war is over, I doubt they'll go back to those old ways. The Gotei values its heroes, and Ichigo, although not formally one of us, will have fought alongside us. He'll be safe."
"Good," said Orihime, relieved.
"Well then," said Rukia, "I think we're almost there."
"Stay," said Orihime, smiling. "I'll make tea. We'll talk. Like I said, these times are limited, so… I want to make the most of it while I still can."
Rukia nodded. "I'd like that," she said.
Together, the two of them headed to Orihime's home, the severity of their conversation dispelling as they drifted into lighter topics of conversation.
"…and that leaves the outer rim. My team has gone through the data set three times- nothing out of the ordinary."
"So, you're delegating, at least," Erza noted, taking a sip from her mug of tea. Soifon was running through another security report, finishing it up with the same meticulousness Erza had come to expect from the little captain. She paid it the same due diligence she did anything else, despite the fact that nothing of note had happened, no irregularities or even a hint of enemy activity. Not that she could fault her for that; professionalism aside, they were facing an unparalleled threat.
"As much as is necessary," Soifon said with a nod, leaning back in her chair. It was a very slight sign of weariness, that even the indomitable commander of the Stealth Corps had her limits.
"Are you getting enough sleep?" asked Erza.
"Sufficiently," Soifon assured her. "I've taken your orders seriously, commander, even if it means having to remind myself of their necessity."
Erza nodded. "Good. So… that's it, then. Nothing new?"
"Thankfully, no," said Soifon, shaking her head. "Whatever Aizen's plan is, it involves keeping quiet for the time being."
"Frankly, I wish he'd get on with it," Erza muttered. "The wait… it is starting to frustrate me. We can plan for battles forever, but deep down, I want them done with. Death, violence: all these things I can handle, but the wait? It grates at me."
"I understand," said Soifon neutrally, "but it will do you no good to nourish these frustrations. It is what it is. It might even be part of his game, making us sit here on edge. But, if we must wait, we will wait for as long as we have to."
Erza sighed. She shrugged, and leaned against the doorway. "You're right, I suppose. Well, I suppose you've got work to do…?"
"If you want to talk, I could spare a minute," Soifon said, her tone the verbal equivalent of a shrug. "We are not currently overburdened. What's on your mind?"
"Oh, nothing specific," Erza replied. "I was just wondering… how are you and Yoruichi doing?"
"It's resolved," said Soifon, a little hesitant.
"If you don't want to talk about it…"
"No, I can," said Soifon. "It's just that the topic is a little…"
"Sensitive?"
"I'd have said 'sore,' but that works, too."
"So…" Erza said, pausing to think for a moment before continuing, "are you two- are you…?"
"I'm not one for innuendoes usually," Soifon noted dryly, "but this time… well, it's new. I'm not quite sure what words to put to it. It's… complicated."
"You're not sure what to make of it, or how to feel about it," said Erza with a nod, feeling a pang of familiarity.
"Yes."
"So…" said Erza, throwing her hands up quizzically. "I mean…"
"Please, don't act like you have no idea what's going on. That should be me," said Soifon dryly. "I'm not like you in this way, at least, because… I saw it coming. I just figured now was not the time. You know, with impending death and all that business?"
Erza nodded. "Love's not exactly logical."
"Which is sort of the problem," Soifon muttered, "and that's not even the biggest one."
"I'm afraid to ask which that one is," Erza said sardonically. "There's a list to pick from. Like, what is it like falling for somebody you used to really hate?"
"You put it mildly. For most of my life, I was dedicated to killing her."
"And, that's not the biggest one?"
"The wounds…" Soifon said, slowly shaking her head, sifting through her thoughts, "they are as they are. I can work on them. But… even deeper than that, there's the fact that I was born to be her servant. It was beaten into me. I can't escape the feeling. That… that doesn't seem healthy, does it?"
Erza shook her head. "I understand. Two people together, they should think of each other as equals."
"Even if they're not."
"Even if they're not." Erza nodded. "Even if one is smarter and more accomplished. How can you respect somebody you think of as inferior to you?"
"I don't know that I can do that," Soifon muttered, shaking her head. "Deep down… deep down, when I am with her, I still feel like I am the little girl serving her lady. There's nothing I wouldn't do for her, no matter what she asked. I question if that's actually a good thing."
"You'll work it out," said Erza.
"How do you know?"
"Nobody knows," Erza countered. "Nobody knows how this whole thing actually works, because everyone is different. But, people still make it work, all the time. Flawed, ignorant people still make love work for them. I don't know how, but they do. If they can, so can we."
Soifon gave her a strange look. "I can't go on this way, though," she muttered, "not… just adoring her."
Erza nodded. "So, think about it. Talk to Isane, maybe. Process it. Step out of her shadow, no matter how hard it is. Whatever you have to do, do it. Because… I think it's worth it."
"Do you know?" said Soifon, looking Erza in the eye. "Do you know that?"
Erza paused, hesitant to make any definitive statement.
"When you look Hinamori in the eye and fall asleep next to her," said Soifon firmly, something very keen in her voice, "do you know this is right? That this is what you want from life?"
"It took some time," said Erza. "This whole thing is new to me, too. But… by now? Yes, I am sure. I do know. I… have real feelings for her. I'm not sure how, but I know. I'd stake my life on it."
"You would, wouldn't you," Soifon muttered. "All of this…"
"Let me guess- give me a hollow any day, but sorting out this emotional crap? No thanks," said Erza with a wry smile.
"Are you a mind reader now, hmm?"
"I've thought the same, many times now," Erza said with a nod. "The hardest things in life aren't the ones we practice for. They're also worth the effort. It's hard, but… when it's done, you're glad you did it."
"I certainly hope so," Soifon muttered. "Maybe I'll get lucky and die fighting."
A little taken aback, Erza said, "Was that a joke I just heard you tell?"
"Don't get used to it."
"Morbid, cynical, and to the point," Erza said. "That's you, alright."
"I'm no cynic. I consider myself more of a pessimistic realist."
"Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe," Erza said with a shrug and a smile. "Anyway, I actually do have things to do- and so do you, I bet."
"True enough," Soifon said. As Erza turned around, Soifon stared out into space, murmuring to herself, "Step out of her shadow…"
She would probably have to. No- definitely.
"Focus."
"I'm trying," Ichigo muttered. He had come to the headquarters after school, as Byakuya had been out on patrol in the morning, and they had set about their business in the spacious cellar.
Captain Kuchiki Byakuya, stiff pain-in-the-ass that he was, had proven a surprisingly bearable teacher. He had little patience for anything he perceived as laziness, distractedness or carelessness, but other than that, he was nowhere near as bad as Ichigo might have expected. Stern, demanding, not at all encouraging… but also highly skilled, knowledgeable, and single-mindedly dedicated to his task.
"I went over this before," said the captain, "and I hope I will not have to repeat myself."
"I got it. I got it," Ichigo said defensively. "I remember the words. Basic theory, right? You set yourself at peace, you take command of your spiritual energy…"
"And then?"
"I draw a circle in my mind, and envision myself inside it. I feel still, at peace, and I feel the spiritual particles move in me, like I feel my heart beating. Then, by force of will, I make them… move?"
"Not move, boy," said Byakuya. "You make them change. You exert your will onto a part of your spiritual energy, which will form the fuel for the spell."
"How, though?"
"Imagine the particles as little pieces of rock. By strength of arm, you can turn a rock upside down. By force of will, you can do the same with spiritual particles."
"And, that becomes… fuel."
"It converts the energy you put out into energy that is malleable for the framework of kido. For the spell to work, it needs more than just raw energy- it needs the right form of energy. This is what makes the demon arts a subtler form of power."
"I've always sucked at this…" Ichigo muttered.
"Try again."
Ichigo breathed in, and sat down cross-legged, as if meditating.
"Breathe in, and out. Be at peace."
Ichigo, who had never much liked being ordered around, much less ordered to be at peace- it seemed such a self-contradicting idea; peace was not something you were meant to force onto yourself, right?- made an effort not to snap out some kind of smart-mouthed comeback, and instead did as he was told. It irked him a little, being ordered about like this, especially by Byakuya… but, then again, to be fair, Erza was a harsher taskmaster, and he'd pulled through that.
And, the thought of more power, he had to admit, was not unappealing. And, you couldn't get there without taking the first step…
Peace. He breathed in and breathed out, eyes closed, trying to blank out his mind. A month ago, he might have found that challenging, but the intense willpower his visored training had bestowed on him made this part, at least, child's play. Soon, he was breathing in and out peacefully, almost as if asleep.
"Good," said Byakuya, and to Ichigo, the captain's voice seemed distant, almost intrusive now.
"Take the next step."
Ichigo reached into himself, trying to sense for his very own energies. Like air travelling in and out of him, his lungs growing and shrinking with each breath, like the slow, steady beat of his heart…
As he focused, he sensed it. It was like hearing a sound never before noticed, because it was always there. It was like staring into the palm of his hand, noticing every little crease and slit in his skin, like staring into his fingerprints and seeing every little swirl…
He felt the thrum of his own power. Like a beehive, ceaselessly rustling around without end, billions and billions of particles all moving too quickly to be perceived individually. He could feel his own spiritual atoms at play, restless even when at rest. The sensation was incredible, almost enough to break his concentration. He had sensed things like it before in particularly focused moments, but he had never gotten this close a look.
Knowing he could not gaze at his own navel all day, as fascinating as it was, he envisioned the image of himself in his mind, then drew a circle around it. It became all he could see, all he could perceive. Although his body was quite still, he felt a slight tremor in his spiritual image, as if something had rustled it. He focused again, drawing on the circle.
Will it to work. Overturn the stone.
He focused again, on the circle, pouring energy into it. He didn't know how he'd done it; it was intuitive. If this was how it happened, then it was no wonder Byakuya could not explain it better. It would have been like explaining colour to a blind man. Ichigo focused, his will manifest, and in accordance, a small part of him seemed to move.
"Good. Now-"
The captain's voice, which had seemed intrusive before, was like the rumble of a thunderstorm in Ichigo's ears, and his concentration broke. Nearly losing his balance, he had to prop himself up on his hands. Angrily, he shook his head.
"I almost had it!" he said angrily.
"Yes. You must do better."
"Look, you-" Ichigo began, but before he could say something irritable, he was cut off.
"Hard at work, I see."
"Commander," said Byakuya, standing to attention as Erza approached.
"I thought I'd come and see what progress you are making."
"Not a whole hell of a lot," Ichigo muttered. "I'm sitting here on my ass, getting to be one with everything, and it's still not working."
"Commander," Byakuya said, "progress is as could be expected. Learning the basics of kido is a monumental undertaking. Even a prodigious student would need over a year to master the basic framework."
"Captain Kuchiki is right," said Erza, nodding at Ichigo. "You must do better."
"Damn it, you heard him," Ichigo muttered irritably, getting to his feet. "You expect me to master this shit?"
"Commander," said Byakuya keenly, "I assure you I am doing the very best I can. This will take time."
He really wanted to please her; Ichigo sensed it. Whatever could be said about the man, he took his punishment seriously.
Erza gave them both a scrutinizing look. Pausing, she at last said,
"That was not a bad effort. I expect you'll manage to manifest basic kido transformative energy within the week?"
"Certainly," said Byakuya, seeming relieved. "Young Kurosaki is performing above expectation."
"Which I'm sure you didn't set very high to begin with, hmm?" Erza replied. "Don't give me that look- I'm sure you did. I taught him how to use a sword, and he can be very stubborn. I'm glad to hear he's changed for the better."
"So… it's okay?" Ichigo said, a little perplexed, and surprised to be praised- surprised, and mildly offended; neither of them acted like he was even in the room.
"It's like he said," Erza said with a shrug. "This discipline takes years to master. Many shinigami perform very poorly at it, even post-graduate, fully trained soldiers. You are doing as well as could be expected."
"Might have told me that before…" Ichigo muttered.
"As you were," said Erza, ignoring his complaint. "You still have an hour to go."
Ichigo grunted. He had hoped that would be it. Seeing Byakuya's demanding eye turn to him again, he sighed, and sat down again, slowly clearing his mind. This was going to be a long road to walk…
It was evening, and Orihime had said her good-byes to Rukia a few hours ago. With Erza still out- late hours at the office, she supposed- that left her on her own, which had suited Orihime well. She had spent a lot of time thinking about the future, about what to do with her life; about the future and her place in it, if any- the possibility was real, she knew, that a lot of people she cared about might die. That they might find themselves on the losing side, and at the mercy of a man without mercy.
These thoughts had frightened her before, but after her talk with Rukia, she had a newfound resolve. She had to face these thoughts, because they were a potential reality. Much as the shinigami acted assured of victory, it was not a sure thing at all. They still stood up tall, and Orihime, at the end of the day, only wanted to stand with them. Like Erza would, looking danger in the eye without a thought of retreat. Even as a healer, as a supporter, that was the path she had chosen, and she was not about to walk away from it.
Sometime during her unusually focused, unusually grounded reveries, she had gone to the refrigerator for a snack, and realized they were out of milk. Orihime had shrugged, put on her shoes, and headed out for a quick milk run. The store was just around the block. She really thought nothing of it. Danger was not on her mind. This was Karakura, her home. This place was safe. It was watched over by the best of the best, including the person she trusted the most, her mother.
It was on her way back that it happened. Orihime, walking by herself, lost in thought with a small bag holding a couple cartons of milk under her arm, didn't realize it at first. It took a good few seconds before she realized that the alley she was cutting through had gone very, very dark. It felt cold, and she felt a great power, frightening even at rest. A second later, she saw him, stepping out of the shadows.
With pale, white skin to match the spotless white of his uniform, he looked like an angel of death. A bony protrusion formed half of a helmet on his skull, and the black of his hair and two straight, green lines running down from his eyes were the only contrasting colours on this ghastly white apparition. The lines under his eyes gave him the appearance of a sad clown, but he was anything but funny to look at, even for a mind as imaginative as Orihime's.
The bag clattered to the ground, milk spilling on the street, wetting her shoes. Orihime didn't even notice. She stood paralyzed, staring him in the eye. After what seemed like an eternity, he took another step forward, seeming to tower over her. He stood a few paces away, and although his face was entirely neutral, although he had taken no hostile action, not even spoken at her, Orihime found him terrifying.
"Inoue Orihime."
The voice was dry and unemotional, a perfect fit for the espada's pallid appearance.
"You're- you're Ulquiorra Cifer," Orihime said. She was trembling, and it took all of her willpower to lock eyes with him. She wanted to run. A very large part of her screamed at her to do just that, but she knew that it would make no difference. He'd catch her before she had taken her first step.
The others are here! She reminded herself. This place was guarded.
"You are well informed."
"My mother keeps me up to date," said Orihime, terrified, just about managing to keep her voice steady. "Listen, I don't know what you want, but there are captains here. Several. You should know that. Whatever you want with me will mean fighting more than one of them. So, you had better think twice-"
"They will not come," said the espada, with the finality of a tombstone in his voice. "Do you think this darkness is ordinary? I can conceal myself if needed. The space around us warps. It will not even be visible to anyone looking right at us. Nobody comes for you, Inoue Orihime. I will leave here unnoticed, just as I arrived here unnoticed."
Orihime grit her teeth. He might be bluffing. Then again, he might not. Either way, it was irrelevant- she was at his mercy until anyone could help her.
"What do you want? To kill me?"
"If I did, I would not have wasted any time talking to you."
"So, what do you want?" Orihime demanded. She felt like she was choking, like she was drowning in the immense power the arrancar radiated. She was a tiny little fly, stood next to a god, one that could kill her with a flick of his wrist.
"You have love for your friends, do you not, Inoue?"
Ulquiorra raised a hand, and beside him, there manifested, loosely, in what looked like wisps of smoke, the picture of Ichigo. He let the image hover for a second, before it changed, this time to the image of Tatsuki. Then to Chad, then to Uryu, then to her mother.
"You are to come with me without resistance, or I will kill them all, one by one."
Orihime shivered at his voice.
"You will not speak to anyone. You will not seek help. You will return here, in twenty-four hours, and come to Hueco Mundo as Lord Aizen's hostage, or each one of them will die. You," he said, his power rising a little. Orihime, already terrified, sunk to her knees, overwhelmed by the raw power. Helpless, she stared into his eyes. They were cold, like a shark's, the merciless gaze of a killer. Orihime remembered Grimmjow; she had seen up close one of Aizen's most vicious killers, but even at his most frightening, even at his most threatening, he had still seemed somehow human. The god-like arrancar in front of her seemed entirely alien, inhuman, like something drawn from some primal nightmare. As she stared into his eyes a sense of helplessness overtook her. She quivered with fear. Everything he said, she realized, was the truth. He could kill everyone she loved if he wanted to. If he could find her this easily, then he could do the same to anyone else. To Chad. To Uryu. To Tatsuki. To Ichigo. Even… to Erza.
Orihime realized her shoulders were shaking, and they resisted all attempts to come under her control.
Ulquiorra reined in his power a little, taking a step closer. Orihime still shook with fear, still felt unable to move, still felt like she couldn't breathe. He looked down on her, like death itself staring down on its next victim.
"One day," he said, "at which point you will surrender yourself. If you fail to do so, everyone you love will die. You have their lives in your hands. Do not be careless with your decision, Inoue Orihime."
Then he stepped back into the darkness, and seemed to fade away. The darkness lifted, and the oppressive presence of the espada was gone. Orihime, still shaking, broke into tears. She had tried to be brave, tried to stand up to him, but she was still just a teenaged girl, and he was… horror given form. She stood on all fours, her chest heaving, overcome with fear.
She couldn't let them die. She couldn't be the cause of that, no matter what. There was no choice!
Momo yawned. She had almost finished her work for the day, and she was exhausted. She had gone on a long-winded patrol, followed by hours of division paperwork. Helping run the division from a distance was an unending labour, but it was the cost of having followed her captain here. Momo did not complain, but she found herself wishing for a reprieve sometimes. Currently, she was slumped on a couch in their headquarters, taking a well earned rest.
After a few minutes of just resting her laboured mind, recuperating from the stress and pressures of everyday life, her thoughts inevitably strayed one way and one way only, as they had for the last couple of days: Tobiume's riddle.
No matter how much she thought of it, she couldn't wrap her mind around it, couldn't see a way out. It was not the first time the whimsical spirit had posed a challenge like this; as a kido-based blade, its nature was subtle and required a keen understanding of the magic it employed and the spirit's own personality. So far, with varying degrees of effort, Momo had risen to the challenge each time.
But, now? She felt like she had hit a brick wall. "Be yourself": what sort of riddle was that? Usually, the riddle itself contained some kind of hint, an answer she could infer if she thought hard enough, but… was she not herself already? She had tried to think about what Tobiume could have meant. Had she changed? Had she been more herself before, only to change? What did it mean by that?
Momo tiredly shook her head. It was frustrating to have come this far, only to be stopped in her tracks like this. Wearily, she leaned back in the couch, almost drifting off into sleep. It was unprofessional, of course, but Momo was tired and irritated enough to not care.
She might have nodded off, or she might not have; she wasn't sure. What she did know was that the sound of voices talking brought her back to full consciousness. It annoyed her a little at first- but what was she supposed to do, tell her co-workers to keep quiet while she slept, on the clock?
Unwilling to stand up, and unwilling to go back to work just yet, she settled for sitting back. A few more minutes, then she'd get up, finish her work…
"…and I guess what I'm saying is, I've had some… realizations as of late."
Momo blinked. It was Captain Soifon's voice, coming from the room next to the one Momo sat in. It lacked, somehow, the sharp edge it usually had.
"I'll admit I am a little surprised," replied a second voice. It was Isane's, mildly surprised but tentatively pleased. "With all due respect, you have never struck me as the sort of person who likes to talk about her problems."
"That's because I'm not," said Soifon neutrally, "but people do change. Perhaps I am making an exception. I am not sure. I hope I am not intruding on your time."
"Not at all," Isane said hastily, her tone reassuring. "I'm on this expedition to care for all of you, physically or mentally if needed."
"Good."
"You were talking about… Miss Yoruichi?" said Isane, an invitation to keep talking in her voice.
"Yes. I confess, I've known about this for some time, even if I denied it. It's… difficult."
"In your situation, I can only imagine it would be."
Momo, in her half-dazed state, questioned whether she should be here at all. This sounded like a private conversation. She got the distinct impression that she was listening in, taking part in something she had not been invited to take part in.
But, another part of her felt very curious. The harsh, no-nonsense commander of the Stealth Corps, opening up like this?
She shouldn't. Then again, she wasn't listening in, not really. This was not a private space. The door was open- in fact, all it would take for Momo to come into view would be standing up, maybe taking a step forward. She wasn't hiding herself. If the captain had been keen on privacy, Momo reasoned, she might have tried a little harder.
That, and Momo was still tired.
Unsure if she was right to do it or not, Momo continued to listen.
"If I understand correctly," said Isane, in a tone that Momo recognized as her professional listener's voice, "you were raised from a young age to be her personal bodyguard."
"True," Soifon said, a hint of distaste under the neutral, matter-of-factly tone she kept. "Imagine what that does to a mind. It's… the way things were done back then. Still are, in some families. I could talk about that for hours if I really wanted to."
"Do you?"
"No," said Soifon dismissively. "That's a topic for another time… if I even want to go there. What it means, though, is that I spent my most formative years defining myself after her. I existed to fulfill her needs, and hers alone. It was my sense of self, a tool to somebody else."
"Go on."
"I might have been happy if that had gone on for all my life. Of course, it did not. She left, and… it hurt. It left scars. The point here, though, is that more than ever before, I defined myself according to her- after that, that meant being a lawful, loyal, by-the-numbers agent of the Gotei, to set an example opposed to her lawless, disloyal one. I was less concerned with being me than I was with being what she was not. I never thought about it this way, until… now."
"You find this unhealthy?"
"Perhaps. Is it?"
"It's not about my opinion," said Isane, "but rather, what you think. Is it?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. It set me on a path that served me well. I like doing what I do. I like working, and I like serving. That's not so bad."
"But, I get the impression you still have some issue with this."
"Being with her…" Soifon muttered, before pausing for a while. "I can't go back to being her servant girl. That I don't think is healthy."
"Does she ask that of you?"
"She would never," Soifon said sharply. "She always hated that. It's not her that is the problem, it's me. In my mind, I still… I still think of myself that way, sometimes."
"So, what is it that you want?"
"To be my own," said Soifon, "to define myself according to me, not according to somebody else. If I can do that… then it could work. Even though we're very different, even though she's… fickle, easy-going, even if she seems shallow sometimes… it could work."
"It seems like you have a good idea of this already," said Isane.
"I suppose I do."
"A lot of people have the answers already. They just need to vocalize it. That's what I'm here for."
"I don't know how, though."
"It may take some time to unpack," Isane said hesitantly, "but I think I can help. If you want, that is."
"…I'll think about it."
Momo, who had almost drifted back to sleep, felt a little odd hearing the words. To be your own. To not define yourself by somebody else…
What was so wrong with that? She thought, anger briefly flaring up. What was wrong with a little dedication? Why wouldn't you want to live for somebody besides yourself?
Then, she stopped herself in her tracks, biting back the ire. The captain hadn't been… wrong, as such. Everyone was different. If she wanted to go her own way, well… let her.
It was ridiculous. This was nothing to get upset about. This was Captain Soifon's personal issues, not hers, and she had work to finish. Still feeling oddly annoyed, she stood up and walked back to her desk with energy she hadn't known she had.
Work to be done. Things to do. A zanpakutou to figure out. This was the least of her concerns, wasn't it?
Her shoulders had stopped shaking. That was something, at least. Orihime, her shoes still soggy with spilled milk, had managed to pull herself together, stand up, and begin walking back and away from the alley where it had happened. Her mind was racing, still overwhelmed with raw emotion. She had stared into the face of death, and it had frightened her like nothing had since the Soul Society's many terrifying encounters. No- not even that seemed to compare, here and now just in the wake of this encounter. She had fought battles with her life at stake. She had seen the decaying corpses of the slaughtered Central Forty-six. But, in the case of the former there had at least been some sense of hope, and in the latter, disturbing as it had been, it had just been… dead people.
She had stared into the face of Ulquiorra Cifer, and seen the dead, merciless eyes of a killer. She had looked, and seen death. Power, the likes of which outstripped anything she had ever seen before. It felt inconceivable that such raw force could even exist. It had outstripped Ichigo's. It had outstripped Erza's. If this was what was waiting for them, how could they possibly win? How could she possibly do anything but obey? How could any of them do anything but give in and beg for mercy?
But, as she stumbled through the city streets, slowly and dazedly like a drunkard, a small, defiant part of her mind began to rear its head.
Doing the right thing is worth it, it said, even if you die.
Erza wouldn't have given in, would she?
As the fear began to subside, just a little, she started to think. There had to be something going on. The espada could have killed her, easily. It would have devastated everyone around her. But, he hadn't. He'd threatened her. Why was that? There had to be some reason. Men like Aizen, she was sure, did not do things on impulse.
Then again, she had no doubt they did not idle threats, either.
If she told anyone, he was sure to try to kill her friends. A chill ran down her spine as she thought of the deathly white spectre again, and she leaned weakly against a wall, breathing in and out. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him again, felt his power, his ruthlessness, that voice that had spoken with the inevitability of the grave…
How did people deal with this? This kind of fear? It was overwhelming, like a tide of darkness threatening to swallow her whole.
A choice had been thrust upon her. It wasn't fair, or reasonable, or good, but that was life. Whether she was ready or not, whether it was fair or not, she had to make that choice.
Swallowing down a wave of fear-induced nausea, Orihime forced herself steady, and stood up straight. She balled her fists, grit her teeth, and looked into the distance. One step at a time, she began walking. She walked not toward her home, but toward the Kurosaki residence.
Ichigo was struggling with mathematics when he heard the noise of the front door opening and shutting- his mother was still adamant he not let his schooling slip behind at all- and he was honestly grateful for the distraction. He sat alone in the living room; his father was still working, his mother was out, and his sisters were in their respective rooms.
"Hello?" he said, looking up from his books. There was no response, and for a while Ichigo heard nothing at all. Furrowing his brows, he looked toward the door, a little out of his vision. He was just about to attempt to sense for who it was when Orihime came into view. Ichigo blinked. She looked haggard. She had a brow-beaten look about her, staring down into the floor. Something about her entire way of being usually exuded a kind of carefree cheer, but it seemed gone. He thought he could see a bit of red around her eyes. Had she been crying? For some reason, he noted, she was barefoot.
"Hi," she said meekly, a weak smile spreading across her face. For the first time in his life, Ichigo thought it looked fake.
"You look like shit," he said bluntly, forgetting entirely about his textbooks. "Are you… okay?"
"I'm fine," Orihime said dismissively.
"If you say so," Ichigo said skeptically, not sure what to make of this. What was he supposed to do here?
As he hesitated, Orihime sat down next him by the couch, leaving just enough space between them that it wouldn't be awkward.
"Seriously," said Ichigo, turning to face her, "are you… okay?"
"I… had a bit of a breakdown," said Orihime weakly. "All of this… you know, the war and all…"
"I- I get it," said Ichigo, nodding along. He felt stupid, stumbling through his words. He was not the consoling type. Tatsuki, she'd know what to say, or his mom, or Erza… but she had come to him. Why him, of all people? "It's, um, it's hard on all of us…"
"It's not as hard on all of us, right?" said Orihime, looking him in the eye. "It's not so hard on you. You're really strong, Ichigo."
Ichigo, painfully aware that he was more than a little dense in this area, quickly replied. "It's hard on me too. I just sort of… deal with it." Was she feeling weak, or something? Like she wasn't good enough?
"That's what makes you strong, isn't it? You can deal with it. You can deal with anything."
"I'm staying afloat, but that's about it," said Ichigo with a shrug. "I guess what you mean by 'strong' isn't how hard I can swing a sword?"
"That, too, but yeah," Orihime said, shaking her head. "I, um, I worry. About you. About everyone. People might die. I might have to watch people I love die. I might even be the cause of it."
Ichigo took a deep breath. This, he sensed, was a time when he very much needed to say the Right Thing. The problem was that he had no idea what that was. Perhaps foolishly, he opted for the truth.
"Maybe," he said with a shrug, taking care to look her in the eye. "I'm not gonna lie and say there are no risks. If it comes down to it, I'll do my damnedest to protect you and everyone else, but… maybe I won't be able to. Maybe it'll kill me. Maybe it'll kill all of us. I don't like to talk about it, or think about it, but it's the way it is. But, the thing is, we got no choice. We didn't start this. That bastard Aizen brought it to our door, and I know I'm not going to look back at it and say I did nothing when it went down."
"There it is again," Orihime said with a small smile. This time, it seemed sincere.
"What?"
"That strength," she said.
"It's nothing," said Ichigo, shifting awkwardly.
"It's not," insisted Orihime. "You're afraid, but you're still going to do the right thing, even if it kills you. That's strong, Ichigo. That's why I admire you so much."
"…Thanks," he said, pausing uncomfortably. There was something about a direct compliment from her that somehow made the whole situation even more difficult, and he wasn't sure why.
Orihime pulled her feet off the floor and hugged her knees, staring into the floor.
"That's you," she murmured, like she was talking to herself. "You'd do anything for your family, for your friends, wouldn't you?"
"Sure," said Ichigo, giving her a strange look. Something was off about her.
"Even if it hurt. Even if you died."
"…Yeah."
"Even if it was really difficult?"
"Orihime, what do you mean?" Ichigo said, frowning harder than ever. "Is there something wrong? What's going on?"
"Please answer the question," she insisted. "For you, most of the time, 'anything' would probably mean fighting really, really hard, risking your life to do it. But, what if you had a choice that was a lot harder than that? You know, one that wasn't obvious? What'd you do in a situation like that?"
Ichigo gave her a long, scrutinizing look. He wanted to ask her what was wrong again, but she had sounded insistent- she wanted to know, and he sensed he would get nowhere until he had given her an answer.
"I…" he began, thinking carefully. "I'd try and think about what made the most sense, and do that. Even if it was hard."
"Doing the right thing isn't easy. If it was, everyone would do it, all the time," Orihime said. She sounded distant, and Ichigo felt like he wasn't even in the room.
"That's Aunt Erza," he said, nodding.
"She's right." She stared into Ichigo's eyes, her stare suddenly intense. "I trust her. Don't you, Ichigo? With your life?"
"I- er, yes? Look, Orihime, what's going on?" Ichigo insisted, his patience run out and his concern running over.
"I'm fine," Orihime said. She turned to look at him, and this time, the smile she gave him was false again.
"No, you're not," he said sharply. "It's okay not to be, but don't hide it."
"You have to trust me on this one, okay?"
"Listen," said Ichigo, dogged concern in his voice, "I know I'm not Tatsuki or Erza, but… if something's wrong, you can always come to me. You know that, right?"
"I do know that," said Orihime, and stood up, "and don't put yourself down. You're not a bad listener."
"Orihime?" Ichigo said. He was about to stand up, face her, but before he could move, Orihime had leaned in over him, one hand on his shoulder.
"Everything's going to be okay, Ichigo," she said, her voice barely audible. "Thank you."
Their faces were just inches apart, and Ichigo, in his confusion, realized that if this went on, he'd end up blushing. Before he was put through the embarrassment of it, though, she leaned in closer and kissed him on the forehead.
This time, Ichigo really did blush.
"H-hey, what…?" he said, befuddled.
"I'll see you around," said Orihime, suddenly seeming calm. "Like I said, just trust me. I'm fine."
Ichigo just stared blankly at her. It was only when the front door slammed shut behind her that he stood up, and cried,
"Hey, Orihime!"
Orihime walked out the door, shoes in hand. She knew what she had to do now.
Omake
This time, it was a laptop flying through the air, and Momo was lucky to have come there in time, or the device- which was Urahara's property, and Momo was not in the mood to explain why they had to reimburse him for destroyed technology- would have been smashed against the ground. As it was, Momo leaped through the air, catching the computer before it could hit the ground. She caught it, falling to the ground without much grace. Nursing an aching shoulder, she approached Grimmjow's little nook. Volumes of Berserk were stacked by one of the rocks with surprising neatness; in fact, she was a little shocked he hadn't thrown them all away if he was in this kind of mood.
"You gotta be fucking kidding me, woman!" snarled Grimmjow as she approached.
"What is it this time?" Momo said, a little exasperated. "Did his friends get killed again?"
"No, thank fuck," Grimmjow spat, "and don't fuckin' remind me!"
"Alright, alright…"
"I read all the books, like a sucker," snarled Grimmjow, "and I even went to surf that inter-web thingy, 'cause for whatever reason that was where the rest of the damn series was."
"Was the ending bad?"
"That's just the thing," said Grimmjow, infuriated. "There was no ending! The fuckin' thing left off in the middle of nothing!"
"…Ohhhh," said Momo. "Oh, right."
"Oh right what, woman?" Grimmjow demanded. "I gotta fuckin' know! Does Guts get to slaughter that asshole Griffith? What about the world being fused with the demon world? What about Casca, will she ever get her mind back and start kickin' ass? What about that retarded child that keeps following them? Or Farnese, or Serpico, or Schierke, or that dumbass wannabe kid? Damn it, woman, I gotta know!"
"…See, here's the thing," said Momo.
"I do not like the sound of that," Grimmjow growled.
"The series is… ongoing."
"Ongoing?"
"It means the one who draws and writes it makes one chapter at a time, which is published in a magazine, only later collected in these volumes."
Grimmjow blinked. "What kind of stupid-ass idea is that?"
Momo swallowed. "It… gets worse."
"How could it get worse than this?" Grimmjow cried angrily, tempting fate.
"The update schedule is… irregular. The author often goes in hiatus. He's been writing this series since… nineteen eighty-nine, I think."
Grimmjow blinked. "You mean to fuckin' tell me," he said, in a low growl, "that the lazy fucker has been at it for like, twenty years or something, and he still hasn't finished it?"
"And, he's not likely to finish it any time soon either."
"GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!" Grimmjow howled. "I fuckin' knew you was up to something! You sucker me in with this fuck-balls amazing series with, like, gore and violence and blood and dark shit that makes me wonder how fuckin' twisted humanity is, except it's actually a surprisingly deep story about friendship, camaraderie, trauma, defiance of fate, and desperate hope against the odds with incredible fuckin' characters… only to leave me hangin'! You bitch!"
"I swear, I didn't know," said Momo.
"Liar!" Grimmjow snarled.
Angrily, he sat down to sulk, murmuring to himself.
"Well…" said Momo.
"Not talkin' to you, traitor!"
"While we wait for the story to finish… you could try something else?"
"Fuck off."
"It's fully finished."
Grimmjow glared at her, but Momo took the lack of profanity as a good sign.
"It's a really dark, brutal manga with surprising amounts of depth, just like this one."
"Keep talkin'."
"It's about the vampire Dracula, except he has massive handguns that he uses to fight Nazi vampires, a psychotic monster-hunting priest, and a werewolf."
"I have no idea what those fuckin' things are," said Grimmjow suspiciously, "but you say it's about a vampire with huge guns. And it's violent, yet well written."
"It also features a police girl with huge boobs. Who is also a vampire."
"…God damn it, fine," Grimmjow growled, "if you fuckin' insist."
"I do," Momo said with a smile.
"But, I'm only doin' it because I have to!"
"Of course."
"Alright, gimme that stupid laptop," Grimmjow growled, "but you better not be jerking me around…"
"Trust me," said Momo, "I have a feeling it'll suit you."
Well, Orihime is in a tough spot- one she can't easily get out of. But she already knows what to do... so keep reading, and you'll do too. Let me know what you all think it'll be in a review.
That's all I have for now. Thanks for reading!