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Chapter 3: Urahara's Cross, Cuddles and Other Lies We Tell Ourselves

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The rest of the tour had carried on normally enough. Basketball court, workshed, the usual. Renji had saved the cells for the last, chatting with her about the history of the building, the inmates' schedules - which one of them had 'smelly farts and godawfully ugly ulcers.'

Orihime didn't interrupt him to say she was a doctor and was quite used to all things 'smelly and godawfully ugly,' mostly because she was still thinking about Ichigo.

"He arrived at Seireitei shortly after he killed his own mother."

When they returned to the main cell block, Renji stopped her. "I know you're still thinking about Kurosaki, Dr. Inoue."

She swallowed, a thick block jammed in her throat. "I'm not as naive as I look, Abarai-san. I knew when I took on this job that I'd be dealing with all kinds of men." She took a shaky breath. "And I know better than to let my patients' histories outside these walls get the best of me. It would never change my resolve to help them."

She locked gazes with him, so he'd know she meant it.

Renji grinned, holding his hands out placatingly. "I get it, doc," he said. "And I know it's hard to believe, when you meet him. He's a quiet kid, keeps to himself unless you got a bone to pick." They resumed walking inside, but Renji continued his explanation nonetheless. "When he first got here, he pretty much had a target on his back. Most of the time it was his hair, but I think the attitude was what got on the older guys' nerves." He turned to Orihime and pointed at the bridge of his nose. "First week in, the Kenpachi broke it."

Orihime withdrew with a gasp. "That's awful."

"Said Kurosaki walked around like he owned the place, should set his record straight before someone broke it," Renji shook his head and grinned. "Kurosaki goes, 'what, you're gonna set it for me?'" He brought his fist to his own face and aimed a punch. "Next thing you know, they're both in the ER. I think the Kenpachi got thrown into solitary for a week." He sighed and shrugged. "Well, they're kind of friends now."

Note to self, Orihime thought, sometimes prison enemies can turn into prison frenemies!

Satisfied with this little learning, Orihime skipped up behind Renji. When they reached a turning point, she decided to bring up the nickname. She regarded Renji curiously. " 'The Kenpachi?' "

"You'll meet him soon enough," Renji assured. "Guy's got some busted form of TB. Racks up a lung all night long, won't let his neighbors sleep."

They rounded back to the infirmary, just as Hanataro was escorting a hobbling, blonde patient inside. He seemed to be wailing about something incomprehensible to Hanataro, who looked both parts amused and flustered. Orihime waved to him, watched for a while as they began to get settled by the beds.

"Well," Renji said, following her line of sight. "I guess that's my cue to let you go, Dr. Inoue."

"Right!" Orihime cheered, giving him a big smile. Then, it fell into a line with a sudden realization. "Um, Abarai-san. I noticed on the way here that we skipped that big, heavy-duty door. Did it lead somewhere?"

Renji chortled. "Boy, you're observant," he said, before turning grim. "That's the entry to the Maggot's Nest, doc; the holding facility within Seireitei that houses 300 of Japan's most depraved, violent men." He watched her reaction carefully. "If you're religious, then that's pretty much the equivalent of Hell around here."

Orihime did the math in her head, tilting her head up. Then, she pictured hundreds and hundreds of sweaty inmates, flocking in and out of the cramped area behind that door, all sense of personal space overridden by the bodies of other prisoners. 300 was not a small number after all - that was the size of the average Don Kanonji live audience!

"That doesn't sound too comfortable," she said to Renji.

"That's the idea," he replied. "It's restricted staff access, Dr. Inoue, but I still feel obligated to tell you - don't even think about going in there. Even with an escort."

"Yes, sir!" she mock-saluted.

"Alright, I'm gonna let you go. I'll bring Iba around for dinner tonight," he said, with a grin. "Dr. Isane's visiting, so you're gonna have a right laugh at how far he'll make a fool of himself to talk to her."

Orihime giggled, waving goodbye to him. Then, she walked to her office.

Back in A-Wing, Chad and Ishida watched from their top bunk as Ichigo struggled to keep the consistent momentum of his push-ups going. His chest was still sore, but he was determinedly staring at the floor as he huffed out the numbers in small, aching breaths.

"Does he really think he's fooling us?" Ishida asked from his position behind Chad. He had one arm around Chad's waist, his head tucked in the broad expanse between Chad's neck and shoulder so he could see Ichigo better. "This illusion of privacy he thinks he's giving us by...oh, he almost slipped. You should have seen that, Sado-kun."

Chad leaned over a little to watch Ichigo struggle to get back up on shaky elbows. "It's cute," he rumbled. "We should finish up here quickly, though."

Ichigo, for all his general grump and cynicism, always sensed when Ishida and Chad were craving a cuddle or two behind the safety of the clothesline that blocked the vision of what was inside from the outside. And he always pretended he didn't notice; he'd take the floor, claim a need to "work out," leaving Chad and Ishida to have free reign on the top bunk.

And they were grateful for it - even though Ishida would never tell him. But watching him now, with his chest injury, felt a little selfish to Chad.

Ishida nuzzled his nose in Chad's neck. "I am certain," he said, slowly peppering a series of kisses on his skin, "that Kurosaki's muscles will be greatly aided by this little exercise of ours. Surely a man of his caliber can take another minute or two."

Chad grinned. "Hnn." Ishida knew if he wanted kisses, he could just ask, but Chad did prefer it this way, where he phrased it in a way that bullshitted no one - least of all Chad.

They were interrupted, though, by the loud beating on their cell bars. "Wrap it up, boys! Laundry time is over!"

Ishida quickly peeled himself off Chad, ready to slip back into his own bunk before the clothesline came off.

"You guys decent?" Ichigo asked quietly, keeping his head down, but already unhooking one end of the line from where it was tied to the bedpost.

"All good, Ichigo," Chad whispered back, giving one of his infamous thumbs-up. Before Ishida could leave however, he grabbed his wrist. "Uryu, we should tell him about..."

Uryu heaved a sigh, climbing off and settling his feet on the lower rungs of the ladder so that it looked like he was down, but his head was still close enough that only Chad could hear him. "I know, Sado-kun. I'm just waiting for the right time."

Chad held his gaze for a moment, nodded, then turned over his side to continue napping.

Ishida regarded Ichigo briefly, then turned to his own bunk without a word.

"Say, Hime-chan," Hirako Shinji said, leaning forward on elbows with an ingratiating smile. "Do ya happen to have a bandaid lying around here?" He made a big show of looking around, before fixing his gaze at her again and shooting her a wink. "'Cause I think I just scraped my knee falling for ya."

Orihime held back an outrageous laugh behind her hand, feeling her cheeks darken in an embarrassed flush.

"That's doctor to you, Hirako-san," Hanataro reprimanded, running a wet rag over Shinji's forehead. The man had all but barged in here, saying he had a heatstroke - which was more Hanataro's jurisdiction than hers, really - but he'd also claimed he'd recover a lot better if Orihime sat by his side. So here she was, humouring him.

"My bad, Doctor Hime-chan," he corrected, with a grin.

Hanataro shook his head, muttering something that sounded a lot like 'incorrigible' under his breath. He retreated to go bring more water from the coolers, leaving Orihime alone with Shinji.

She regarded him with a hesitant smile, deciding on what exactly to say. Out of reflex, she'd almost asked an inmate once or twice what they were here for - more out of curiosity than anything else - but the handbook said some would be sensitive about it, so she'd quickly learned to hold her tongue. Other go-to questions, 'what do you do for a living?', 'what's your favorite food? TV shows?', 'any pets? A wife?' - all seemed either redundant or depressing to men who hadn't seen the outside of this penitentiary for years now.

But Orihime had never been one to be short of words, all her life. Therefore, she asked,

"So, does Hirako-san have any interesting stories he'd like to share with me while we wait?"

Apparently that was the right thing to ask - by Shinji's book - because he spent the next hour or so chatting away about anything and everything: his cellmates, his week-long vacation in Peru that had abruptly ended after he had a 'minor scuffle' (her brimming optimism desperately tried to believe it was a scuffle of the legal kind), his religious views, his political affiliations. By the time he had cooled down from his 'heat stroke' he seemed resolute on visiting her again sometime soon.

"You see, Doctor Hime-chan," he stage-whispered, behind one flat hand. "I don't intend on staying here very long, so I'm gonna milk every chance I get to spend more time with you."

Orihime tilted her head in confusion. "Are you nearing the end of your sentence, Hirako-san?"

Hirako snorted, then gave her a grin that could have been described as secretive at best, crooked at worst. "Can ya keep a secret, pretty?"

Well, with a premise like that, she was already curious. "Sure."

He looked around at the other empty beds, gave a cursory glance around the room to spot Hanataro. When he sensed no risk of being heard by anyone else but her, he leaned forward and asked, "You ever heard of the Urahara's Cross?"

Orihime bit her lip, considering his words. "I've heard of Urahara?" she offered.

"Then you know he's the mad genius that crafted this place," he said, pointing one finger around the room, and then the roof. His voice had suddenly grown quiet, discreet. "Rumor has it that when the four founding families approached him with plans to build this place, he had a couple o' plans of his own."

"I'm not sure I follow, Hirako-san," Orihime said, slowly.

"Urahara Kisuke crafted this place with the perfect cat-and-dog chase in mind," Shinji explained, arms crossed seriously. "Throw a bunch of prisoners and guards in a building - then, throw in a bone; devise a route somewhere within these walls that'll get a man straight to the outside. If he can find it." He raised both his hands and dramatically spread them apart. "The Urahara's Cross."

Why would someone do such a thing? Orihime wanted to ask, but Hanataro had returned and Shinji seemed suddenly tight-lipped. He stood up and patted himself down, walking himself towards the ward doors. When he turned, he raised his finger to his lips, then brought it down to wink at her.

"So, Doctor Hime-chan," he called out. "You might be seeing me a lot less than you think. Don't miss me too much, okay?"

He raised his hand in a wave, then walked out.

I know I'm updating these chapters really rapidly, but I like how it's coming along and I can't wait for you guys to get further along the story. This chapter, especially, was really fun to write and I'm hoping I can balance the predictability of the plot with some of the...more unusual things I have planned. As always, reviews are appreciated!