A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Reading all your lovely comments gives me warm fuzzies. Next chapter should be coming pretty soon!
Saturday
3:27 p.m.
It had been almost a week since the addition of the vizard's newest member. Hiyori had spent the entire week sulking and avoiding as much interaction with the new girl as possible.
Orihime didn't really seem to notice.
She was sitting on the sofa now, one of her pink shoes lying on the ground where she had absentmindedly pulled it off and dropped it. She was flipping through a picture book, one that Kensei had dug up for her somewhere. It looked to Hiyori like she was just looking at the pictures and not reading, but it had been several, several years since the yellow-haired vizard had been around children and she'd be damned if she could remember when those brats were supposed to be able to read anyway.
It didn't matter. Her plan didn't require words, written or otherwise.
She eyed the sofa at a safe distance, scouting out the area. Hachi was the only other one in the room. It was his turn to watch over the girl that afternoon, but she could hear him snoring. Hiyori knew that most of the other vizard were in the room below the entrance, training with masks in private, away from impressionable and easily frightened two-year-olds.
It was the perfect opportunity.
3:30 p.m.
Orihime hummed to herself, looking at the bright, colorful pictures in the book that man had given her. She prided herself with being an expert on picture books, and she flipped through the pages skillfully. Someone else had put books in her hand once, explaining the pictures on the page and reading the scribbles that she couldn't yet make out. Someone else who would sing her to sleep and tell her stories to drown out the yelling and the screaming that had once been a constant background noise in her life. But she could no longer remember what his face looked like.
Her nose twitched as a familiar aroma filled the room and her train of thought was instantly derailed. Could it be? She would recognize that smell anywhere.
It was the unmistakable smell of a red bean bun, recently opened from its package.
Her book dropped to the floor as she carefully slid off the couch and onto the ground to do some investigation. She pushed the book to the side as she looked around.
There!
Lying on the ground not three feet in front of her was a chunk of bread a little smaller that the size of her fist, red bean paste slathered on one side. She toddled forward, picked it up, and happily shoved it in her mouth, whole.
Orihime furrowed her brow in confusion. Where was the rest of it? She looked around again.
There it was! Another piece, identical to the first one. She tottered forward and quickly gobbled it up.
Every few feet she found another chunk of bread and she did the same with each one. Soon she was outside, following the trail, not really concerned where she was going as long as there was food to guide her way. Orihime did not stop to think why her favorite snack was torn apart, each piece carefully placed just a few feet away from each other, the trail leading out the door. She was just doing her job as a fearless explorer.
3:36 p.m.
Hiyori was crouching in the shadow of a nearby building, mentally patting herself on the back at how flawlessly her plan had worked. Never underestimate how much human brats love food, she told herself. She absentmindedly wondered if the same plan would work on Shinji.
She briefly pushed that thought away and grabbed another package from her knapsack. She would lead that kid all the way to town, to another family of real humans who actually wanted to put up with all her crap.
A brief commotion made her look up from where she was digging through her knapsack. She peeked around the corner to verify what was happening, though it was unnecessary—she knew that loud girlish squeal when she heard it.
Mashiro had Orihime in her arms and was cooing at her in a way that made Hiyori want to vomit. Orihime was struggling to get back down and eat the rest of the red bean bun pieces Hiyori had deliberately placed on the ground. From the bags in Rose's hands, she guessed they had just gotten back from grocery shopping for dinner.
Crap. Hiyori decided to cut her losses and sneak back into the warehouse and play dumb about how the girl had gotten out.
She started backing up, mapping her escape route in her head. She froze when she heard a voice behind her.
"Nice try, Hiyori. You know, all you're doing is ruining her dinner."
Hiyori spun around and sputtered indignantly.
"Shinji! What are you talking about?! I'm just going on a walk. What are you doing creeping around here, anyway?!"
"Creeping? You're the one suspiciously hiding behind a building."
"I am not hiding! I told you, I was just—"
Their conversation was interrupted by Orihime's shrieks of delight as Mashiro began energetically tickling her. Rose's attention was focused on the ground, looking at the scattered bits of red bean paste in confusion.
"Whatever," Shinji said over his shoulder, striding in the direction of the warehouse. "You know it's your turn to make dinner tonight, right? It better be something good, not like the normal burnt mess you usually make when you cook."
Hiyori resisted the urge to throw her sandal at the back of his ugly, fat head.
3:42 p.m.
Shinji waved away the enormous vizard's torrent of apologies when he walked in.
"Let's just make sure to put up an extra barrier at night from now on, alright?" he said quietly, eyeing the still giggling girl in Mashiro's arms with concern.
Hachi nodded solemnly.