A Coincidental Fairytale

Disclaimer: Bleach isn't mine. I wish it was!

AN: A huge thanks to AvaLuna (here's an update! I try!), zebra13 (thank you!), kluxces (also thank you!), aleitheia (thank you very much!), Tamabonotchi (I dig that name and thank you!), mist_dreams (I will try as hard as I can—and is that what I should call you? Thank you so much!), Mooguri Klaine (that's so nice of you to say—I'm kind of hoping it stays like that and doesn't get too OOC!), fishfreak (yeah, I knew you would, too, girlie), and Leena (thanks, and I've got your answer!)! It's a pain to leave reviews (I know! No sarcasm here, I swear!), but you guys really made my day! I did completely change Rukia's part in the last chapter though. I thought it was unacceptable. For anyone wondering, Rukia and Ichigo will meet in chapter four. They'll speak to each other in chapter five.

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1: He Came on a White Horse

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"It's foolish," his proud father would say, "to read silly books about gallantry and true love and destiny. Only children would read fairytales."

"But I am a child," Ishida would mumble as his father snatched the leather-bound book away. "And I like those stories."

"Get over it. You're not a knight, and you're certainly not a prince," Ryuuken would reply. "And even though there may be a princess in this town, she certainly isn't going to fall in love with you and make you royalty. She won't rescue you."

"The stories say I'd rescue her."

"It's your duty to protect her, but it's nothing like the tales," his father would snap. "You will die without her knowing your name. You're an archer. Or you're supposed to be." He glanced at his son momentarily before turning around quickly like he was disgusted with what he saw. Ishida knew perfectly well what it was: a young (barely past six years), scrawny whelp, already equipped with large spectacles over his eyes that overwhelmed his face. If he were Ryuuken, he'd probably be disgusted, too. He blushed, and though his father could not see the red in his cheeks, Ishida knew Ryuuken could sense it. He would not put his face down in shame only because his father would sense that, too.

"There's no room for archers in fairytales," his father mused as he placed the book high on a shelf in the study and far out of Ishida's reach. "And there's no room for fairytales for archers. Instead of wasting your time with myths, you should be focused on the real world. Get back to training."

Ishida obeyed the last command, but his head remained with his father's offhand comment. Maybe the reason his father hated fairytales so much was because he could not appreciate them as a child. Or maybe he hated them so much because they did not appreciate his kind.

Ishida wanted to be nothing like his father. He wanted to believe in fairytales, and he believed the world wanted him to believe in them as well.

Once upon a time

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Karakura Town was a dump, a land for fools, but Ichigo still called it home. Once upon a time (five years ago, actually), it was a growing city, a free market, an entrepreneur's paradise. Then they came and with them came destruction. But while the bustling city was no more, the natives remained and the passing businessmen still lingered. There were many oddities to be found in Karakura Town (a land for fools), and Ichigo figured that only his homeland would have a place on the streets where they still sold horses. Horses! Of all things!

He had decided to go searching with Yasutora Chad, probably his onlyand so his best—friend in the world. Chad understood Ichigo's debt all too well, and Ichigo let their meeting give Chad a chance for a proper farewell. And Ichigo, in turn, knew that his friend would have come with him to save the princess in an instant had it not been for Ichigo wanting Chad to watch over his two sisters. His sisters (well, Karin at least) were tough, but the times were tougher. He may have felt comfortable wandering alone at night, but he was not comfortable with his sisters doing the same.

Five minutes into their shopping spree, Ichigo thought he was pretty damn lucky to have Chad. His amigo knew the area pretty well (claiming that "you have to count those hidden curses and blessings in a place; only the arrogant accept what they can see as all there is to see"), and they had found a horse-seller (Ichigo still couldn't believe it) pretty fast. It was only five minutes later that Ichigo knew that, buenos amigos o no, he was the unluckiest guy on the flipping planet.

"Hell to the fucking no."

The cursed with a cursing mouth. How appropriate.

The salesman inclined his head, a frown on his lips.

"Why the hell not?" he asked somewhat rudely in return. Apparently, the old man wasn't used to dealing with lousy customers or perhaps that was why his business was reduced to a town in shambles, a land for fools. Ichigo didn't appreciate the courtesy either.

"Because I want a black horse. A white horse would destroy my image."

Zangetsu shook his head.

"I know who you are. You have no image. That's why you had to buy a horse in the first place."

Ichigo felt something constrict around his lungs again as he was reminded of an unpleasant time. So even the old goat knew. Breathe, damn it. In, out. In, out. Ah, much better. He was at peace.

"Fuck you, Zangetsu-san," he snarled. Oh, perhaps not.

Clearly, the tall, dark-haired man did not take well to being told to perform intercourse or jerk off by himself. He glowered at his customer who could not glower back per say as Ichigo was glowering already.

Ichigo watched something pass over the salesman's face (probably some nasty retort or worse, the cold hard truth) but eventually Zangetsu just sighed and shook his head. Clearly he was in desperate need of some cash.

"Listen," Zangetsu said, "you need this horse for a mission, right? Not image."

"Yeah," Ichigo said. "I need a horse to rescue this princess in Huceo Mundo--you know, that church-palace thing, I think, by the sea. It's a long journey."

Zangetsu nodded sagely.

"Ah, church palace thing. How wonderfully descriptive."

Ichigo bristled.

"Shut the hell up, old man. You know what I'm talking about. We're too far inland, and I want to shorten my trip. Without a horse, it would be an even bigger ass-pain."

The old man shook his head.

"Either way," he said simply, "you aren't buying for image. So just take the white horse."

"No thanks."

Zangetsu shook his head again.

"Listen," he said. "Why do you want a black horse, anyway?"

"White horses are lame," Ichigo snorted. "Can you imagine? I'd rescue this princess on a white horse. She would never respect me."

"That's true," Zangetsu admitted. "Prince Charming and fairytales seem to have lost their hipness—" Ichigo almost snorted at the irony of unhipness of the word, "—and girls seem to like those brooding bad boys with greasy hair more than the clean-cut good guys of my day." Zangetsu examined his own curly strands. "Nowadays, I could get myself a girlfriend."

"Like hell you could," Ichigo muttered. Chad, who had previously said nothing throughout the entire exchange, gave Ichigo a small nudge. Zangetsu simply restrained from rolling his eyes. Yes, he really needed that money bad.

"It seems you've at least got the mouth of a bad boy," Zangetsu sighed. "But back to the point, do you really need to impress this girl? I thought you just wanted to save her. Isn't that impressive enough?"

Silence.

"Ah. Sex appeal."

More silence.

"Well, you do have an awfully big sword."

Chad broke the next silence with a cough.

"I'm buying a horse someplace else."

Zangetsu sighed again.

"Please don't."

"Look," Ichigo said, "I need to rescue this girl, and it's a long journey, not to mention a crazy pain. I don't need to waste my time chatting away with a sleazy salesperson like you. I want a black horse, okay? A horse that is black. Why do you keep pushing this white thing up my ass?"

Zangetsu winced.

"I only have a white horse."

Zangetsu said nothing more. Ichigo said nothing though if he didn't have that god-damned breathing problem, many an expletive would arise from his more-than-willing mouth. Luckily, his legs were not under the same paralysis. He turned to leave.

"Screw that," he said, finally catching his breath as he pulled Chad along with him. "I don't need a horse anyway."

"You won't be as much as a hero," Zangetsu called. There was desperation in his voice, and Ichigo resisted throwing a coin at his head. He hated salespeople.

"Screw heroes, screw fairytales," the orange-haired man grumbled. "Who believes in that shit anyway?"

-----

Since Ishida, Uryuu Ishida, had decided at only six years of age that he believed in fairytales (secretly, of courseit was against his father's wishes), he was determined to make them come true. First step? Meet the Princess Orihime so that if he died, she'd at least know his name.

Ishida's family lived in the palace. Although Ryuuken thought their position was lowly and, as he often said, "underappreciated," Ishida knew they lived well. Access to the princess was pretty easy: he just had to sneak off to the courtyard at lunch where she was rumored to play. He was a child (he hated to admit it even at that age, but he knew it was true), and his youth served him well since he could find her without the suspicion the guards. He didn't know why he had never thought of it before.

He walked through the open castle (the Inoue's kingdom was airy and clean; he had heard of castles to the east of the sea that were dark and foreboding; luckily this was not one of those), but stopped short of his destination. In the courtyard a kid about his age was playing. He felt relieved because his peer could probably direct him to the princess, but he also felt nervous because that kid probably meant he would, in fact, meet the princess and not even Ishida's archer pride could keep him from thinking (well, knowing, truth be told) that he was dressed like a dork and his spectacles made him look like a nerd (it wasn't fairhis father had them and looked wonderfully handsome). Hesitantly, he approached her (or was it a him?).

"Hello," he said quietly, and the kid looked up at him, eyes narrowed. His own eyes widened. Her hair may have been cut very short, but the girl before him was beautiful even though she seemed a little intimidating. Since she said nothing, Ishida took it as his cue to speak.

"I'm looking for the princess," he said politely though his already-high voice was pitched higher than usual. "Do you know where I can find her?"

"How do you know you're not looking at her?" the girl demanded haughtily. Well, she was certainly confident and one day, she'd break some hearts with that face of hers, but something about her scared Ishida silly. He had a feeling she'd also break some bones, spill some blood-you know, his job and maybe even do it better.

"I-I just know," he stammered. "I just don't think you're the princess. You can't be."

She sat down, arms crossed.

"And why not?" she asked. "I'm plenty cute, aren't I? And I'm smart, and I'm proud, and I can be kind when my subjects are loyal." She gave him the one-over. "And you're not."

"But you're not the princess!" Ishida complained. "And I'm not your subject, I don't think, so why would I be loyal to you?"

"Do you want me to call the guards, you little nerd?"

Ishida stared at the crazy girl. No, he didn't want her to call the guards. His daddy would probably come (or he'd hear about it instantly), and Ishida liked punishment much less than he liked even the person before him.

"You're not the princess," he repeated dully, but he could feel his heart breaking at the possible lie.

"And why the hell not?"

Because you just spoke a cuss word! Ishida thought, but he could only gasp at the impropriety and could not form the words. His fairytale had quickly dissolved into an unbelievable nightmare. From now on he would listen always to his father—

"Tatsuki-chan?" a gentle (and decidedly melodic) voice rang out, interrupting his thoughts. "Tatsuki-chan, who are you talking to?"

Ishida looked to his right, Tatsuki looked to her left, and both saw what Ishida considered absolute and complete perfection. Princess Orihime Inoue, the regal child, the flower girl, the dignified royal, the kindest person and most beautiful soul. Her eyes were huge, her eyelashes fluttered, flowers adorned her flowing hair (it was long), her nose was shaped perfectly for her face, her lips had a natural (though not at all indignant) pout, and over all, she was so beautiful that Ishida knew he was made to serve her majesty.

"Because," he told the girl (Tatsuki-chan), "she is."

Tatsuki smiled with an unnecessary nod to confirm it.

"I see this as the beginning of a terrible friendship," she announced as the princess drifted over.

It was. But it was also the beginning of a blossoming love.

-----

If Huceo Mundo appeared grand many miles off, Rukia didn't even know what to call it now. It towered above her (from the entrance, she hadn't a prayer of seeing the top, and she doubted her own lack of height had much to do with it) and drowned the desert (the desert!) in shade. Rukia knew to admit fear was weakness, but she couldn't help feeling a little afraid. She wished Renji was with her, but of course she had quite literally shipped him off as soon as they reached the shore.

So thanks to her own damn pride, she now stood alone before the massive building with absolutely nothing, save its great walls and sand, in sight. Byakuya probably thought superstitions were silly, but Rukia couldn't help herself (of course she couldn't help herself, damn it all to hell) from feeling that inside the walls she'd find not the living but ghosts. And while the feeling was enough to drive anyone mad, Rukia still wanted to be a success—for Byakuya, for Renji—oh, fuck that—for herself—and so she did what (she figured) anyone would do if faced with a giant door. She knocked.

To her surprise ("Don't show it," Byakuya instructed in her head), it opened immediately and when she saw what was inside it took every fiber of will and common sense not to jump back. Waiting in Huceo Mundo was a scrawny, skeletal man (at least she thought it was a man) with a tall, narrow mask. He seemed to be examining her, but since Rukia couldn't see his eyes, she couldn't really be entirely sure.

"I'm Aaroniero," he said immediately without even the slightest greeting, "and you must be Rukia-chan." Rukia tried not to glare at him. She wasn't a little girl! "Aizen-sama's been expecting you." His mask tilted slightly. "You're not as pretty as we thought you'd be."

Byakuya would be disappointed with her lack of professionalism, but enough was enough. That was downright inappropriate.

"My blade's pretty fine," Rukia retorted. "Since we're on the topic of introductions, I'd be happy to acquaint you two."

Aaroniero just waved her on. Clearly little girls didn't frighten creepy things like him.

"You'll find an escort at the end of the hall," he instructed. "You'd get lost without one."

Rukia held her pride and didn't reply (later she'd realize he probably wouldn't care), but she still marched through the entrance hall, head held high, though even the bareness of the walls, in reality, intimidated her a bit. The building didn't provide much of an escape from the desert outside. It was beautiful to be sure, but it was dreadfully hollow.

The figure at the end nodded briefly at her when she came up close. He looked somewhat creepy too, though at least he had an elegance that the Aaroniero man lacked. He also looked awfully sad and melancholic with black tattoos running like tear streaks beneath his eyes. Once again, Rukia had to repress a shiver.

"You are Rukia," he spoke flatly, once again without even a freaking "hello." She wasn't sure if his voice was going to be soft or indifferent, but now she knew it was indifferent all the way. He hardly looked at her and left her no time to respond. "I'm Ulquiorra. Follow me."

She obeyed practically step for step through the labyrinth. The building complex was awfully damn, well, complex, and Rukia realized to her chagrin that Aaroniero was right: if she wasn't careful, she'd be sure to get lost. Left, right, left, left, right, and straight ahead. Remember it. Keep your cool like Byakuya would.

However, as they wandered—well, it sure seemed like wandering—through the palace and Rukia was attempting to carefully create a map in her head, she heard a sob. Despite every intention to be just like her brother and not give a damn about anything, instinct overtook her and far down the hall they were crossing, she saw a girl—a beautiful girl to be sure with auburn hair flowing past her back and a white dress skimming her body—crying on the ground. A tall man with blue hair—Rukia could only see his back—was speaking to her. But while she could hear the echoes faintly, Rukia couldn't decipher their exact words.

Her guard, already in the next hallway, had stopped. He did not turn around, however, and Rukia doubted he'd noticed the scene.

"Why aren't you moving?"

"A young woman and a man," Rukia began hesitantly. "They're—they're fighting. It looks pretty bad."

"Describe it."

"Well, the woman is on the ground—she's really beautiful, I think—and there's a blue-haired man—I think he's talking to her, but she's crying—"

"A lover's quarrel," her guide interrupted. "Pathetic."

Ulquiorra did not bother to look back, and he began walking again. Rukia practically jogged to catch him.

"But don't you think we should do something about it?" she asked worriedly.

"Of course not," was the reply. "That man is one of the most ill-tempered in Huceo Mundo. But you must understand that his behavior is atypical. Huceo Mundo is a peaceful place."

Rukia did not believe him. Huceo Mundo was a terrible, creepy place, and it was no wonder why no one else wanted the damn job.

"In any case," he added after a moment, correctly taking her silence for disbelief, "Aizen-sama will make sure he is punished if he harms that woman badly. She is a valuable person in our society."

Somehow, this did not make Rukia feel better.

But Ulquiorra clearly didn't give a rat's ass this time, and he said no more. Rukia's thoughts drifted back towards that girl (that girl who, despite that tall man beside her, seemed so alone) as she continued to follow her guide for what seemed like forever. When they finally reached the throne room—a fucking throne room!—Rukia was almost out of breath. It took all her energy to look prepared before this Aizen-sama.

Since the only two "people" (were they really? They were both so pale!) Rukia had met in Huceo Mundo were pretty much freaks, she was actually extremely surprised by how normal (actually, how handsome) their leader seemed. Aizen was sitting in his chair when she came in. He had an ease about him despite his obvious sophistication (well, he wore glasses, anyway). She bowed immediately before her speech. And although she was exhausted, as soon as she began speaking, nervousness took over.

"Aizen-sama," she recited quickly, "I am Kuchiki Rukia. I was sent by Soul Society to hopefully forge some relations with your country, a valuable trading partner. Thank you so much for allowing me to meet you so soon; it is an honor, and I had little idea that I would be facing you before the trip began, though I can assure you I am the daughter of a prominent family and am certainly able to handle these customs. I hope very much that you will not be insulted that I was sent above my brother, but please know that my older brother, the esteemed Byakuya-sama, would very much have liked to be here--"

"Relax, Kuchiki-san," Aizen laughed. Rukia felt herself relax and then blush terribly—what the hell had she been saying? Still, at least she wasn't called "Rukia" or worse, "Rukia-chan." She looked up and saw him smiling. "We appreciate Soul Society's efforts and are delighted to have you. Since our two countries are so close geographically, it would be wonderful to talk business with you and have you stay." He frowned upon further examination of her.

"But you seem awfully tired. When was the last time you slept?"

Rukia couldn't even find the answer.

"A long time ago," she admitted.

"Of course," he said politely, complete understanding on his face. For a minute he looked around pondering, but grinned suddenly as an idea seemed to strike him. "Tousen?" he called. "Gin? Would either of you two like to show Kuchiki-san to her room?"

Two figures stepped from the shadows. Although Aizen seemed okay, the two he called on were in the same vein as the rest of the residents. One of them had a blindfold covering his eyes, and the other looked like a snake. Rukia prayed that it would be no-eyes and not serpent-man who decided to give her a tour.

Unfortunately, she really didn't have that kind of luck. The man with the blindfold stepped back while the other one stepped forward. It's a coincidental world, Rukia thought glumly, and sometimes, I get the worst circumstances.

"I'd be happy, too," serpent-man said, a snicker in his voice. "Yeah, I'd be real happy to, Aizen-sama." He practically slithered over to Rukia. "I'm Gin Ichimaru," he said. "Nice to meet you. I'll show you around." He held out his hand.

Rukia had no choice; she could practically hear Byakuya's demands in her head. She reluctantly shook it.

-----

Far from our poor damsel, in fact, in an entirely different land, a man slowly assembled the last of his boat and pushed it off into the sea.

"You're leaving," Tatsuki said. The water was up to her waist, but she didn't really seem to care.

"Careful with that arm," Ishida noted. "You don't want that cloth to get wet and salty." He hated seeing her like that. She looked so small and so weak. He wished it was his arm that had cracked to pieces in the attacks and not hers.

"Right," Tatsuki agreed but waves could have crashed on her and Ishida knew she wouldn't have cared. She frowned at her friend. "What made you do this?"

"Well," Ishida said simply, "you. The princess. And some memories. I can't sleep very well anymore."

"Are they unpleasant memories?"

"No, they're quite pleasant. That's the problem."

Tatsuki's eyes softened in complete understanding. They were in the same mess together, and when it came to Orihime, they shared the same thoughts. She didn't need to comment on his choice anymore because he knew everything she had to say. She changed the topic.

"You're wearing white. That's the same color as those men."

"I was hoping it would let me blend in," Ishida admitted, "and besides, white's a rather dashing color don't you think?"

"You hope you'll become Prince Charming?" Tatsuki smiled. Ishida shook his head.

"I don't really believe in fairytales, Arisawa," Ishida said dryly. "Those are for children." To his surprise, Tatsuki shook her head as well.

"If Orihime falls in love with you, you'd be a prince, right?" She was serious. Ishida hardly knew what to say.

"If only I had a white horse," Ishida grumbled after a pause, "though I don't know how I'd fit it on the ship."

Tatsuki's smile left her face again. Her eyes almost fluttered shut, though she did, to her credit, keep them open. Ishida knew that she was worried for him.

"The waters are calm today," she admitted, "and the sky is red now. This bodes well for your journey."

Ishida nodded.

"I'm proud of you," she said, "and Orihime's going to be proud of you, too."

And with those parting words, Tatsuki's slight figure became slighter and the starry evening sky opened up wide.

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AN: Against all odds (oh, shoot me now), chapter two is up! The first three chapters are a little slow, but I did include the horse conversation. It was probably better the first time, but oh well. Chad was sort of a salute to Latin American literature (One Hundred Years of Solitude, anyone?) though this is not serious enough of a fanfic for me to really do something like that. Rukia's a terrible diplomat; luckily, she doesn't keep her occupation for too long (and her hosts aren't much better). I hope the pacing isn't too bad (God, I hate writing these chapters). I may go back and edit Ishida's last part (usually, most of my editing comes after the chapter's been put up). Thank you so much for all your support!