Title: Something To Do With My Hands
Disclaimer: There is bleach in the laundry room, but it isn't mine
Pairings: Mentions of unrequited Orihime x Ichigo
Warnings: Angst, Orihime-centric, teenage/adult issues, SPOILERS FOR CURRENT MANGA (chapters 313 and up)
Author's Notes: Okay, CHAPTER 1. Sort of at the beginning and sort of not? If it seems like a rush into her situation, then that's what's intended! I plan on more being figured out as the story goes along. If some things make no sense, don't worry! I'm not entirely crazy and do have a reason for this :) Besides, not everything is as it seems twilight zone music
This is unbeated, and reviews are luffed upon!
CHAPTER 1
The days were even more monotonous than before.
Back then, she was wanted in some shape or form. Back then, she had been "pet-sama" to some, "Aizen-sama's Human Bitch" to others, or just "that woman" to most. Instead, she had just become a girl in a room; a girl they had to feed every once in a while, but otherwise paid no attention too. No visits, no jealous women, no angry vengeful men. Nothing.
Nothing.
Ulquiorra delivered her daily meals as usual, but the threats for her to finish were gone completely. She could skip a meal for days, and he would not say a word. She once refused food the second he came in, but all he did was stare, then wheel the cart back out. That was when she knew she was no longer a prisoner, a captive of Aizen. She was a mouse that had gotten stuck in a trap set for a rat, and out of some sense of cruelty or kindness, they decided to keep in her a box with a hole and throw her cheese every once in a while. Maybe some day they would let her run free in the wild again, but for the moment she stayed in the box.
The days passed at a rate she could not keep track of. The lack of contact with anyone began to slowly drive her mad, so much so that when her meals arrived, she actually initiated conversation with the blank-faced Espada. But she got little reaction.
She spent her time sitting alone in the single beam of moonlight that entered her room. Once it had been a sort of melancholy comfort, but then it appeared to laugh at her. It held even fewer answers than it had the first time, making her crave the light of the sun she once knew even more.
The couch was her bed, and her seat of penitence. She would sit and think, for that's all there was to do. Sit and think, and feel her heart sink lower every time. It was different, it was strange…but it was all too similar at the same time. When she was captive, she would cry for her friends; for the trouble they were in, for the burdens she had given them, for their love and their safety, and most of all their happiness. But now…with no answers to her silent questions and the walls that refused to respond, tears of frustration took their place.
Time passed. It may have been a few days, but it felt like years to her. She wanted to know the outcome of the battle, she wanted to know who survived, she wanted to know why she was still there. She wanted…she wanted to know, and she wanted to hear from anyone, just to be able to feel another being.
However, she wasn't prepared for that day to come.
The large door began to open with a creak. Orihime sat in the corner of her room, hunched up on the floor like a child ashamed to have been found. With her knees to her chest, gray eyes turned towards the artificial light pouring in from the white, white hallway. Was it dinnertime all ready? It seemed early, but for all she knew she may have not been fed for days. She pushed herself up to her feet, out of habit more than hunger. But as she smoothed out skirt over her white hakama, Orihime paused when she realized this was not Ulquiorra's normal visit.
It was not even an Espada at all.
"Hope I'm not interruptin' nothin'."
Orihime stared in a blank-faced shock, if it was possible. There standing in the doorway was a man she had only seen briefly since arriving to Hueco Mundo; a man she never felt comfortable around; a man that even the Arrancar had trouble stomaching, which was something significant to her. Aizen's right hand: Ichimaru Gin.
"Guess there really ain't nothin' to interrupt, huh?" he said, scratching his head, feigning innocence. Her fingers gripped the fabric of her pale outfit, finding a small sense of comfort and security in the fibers. If Gin noticed any of her discomfort, he did not show it, letting the door close behind him with a final grind of rock against rock.
The room was eerily silent for a long moment. Despite Orihime's want of contact with another being, this was one of the last people she would have chosen.
"How've you been doin', Orihime-chan?" the man finally asked in a singsong voice. Gin did not appear to be expecting much of an answer, wandering the perimeter of the room, inspecting each wall as if it were a masterpiece in an art museum. The auburn-haired girl fidgeted awkwardly, watching his every movement. She did not have any good answer to that. How could she tell a man she barely knew that silence made her feel like her grip of reality was slowly slipping away? That she had no idea what day it was, and how long it had been since she last saw her friends? And how it truly broke her heart to believe that they could be dead?
"I'll take that as 'not so good'," Gin offered to fill her lack of response. Orihime's head bowed slightly at that, but her eyes hardened. Part of her wanted to shout for answers, but it was difficult with someone she barely knew, even if she did know that she deserved them. "I've been doin' pretty well, all things considered" he answered the question she never intended in asking. "Guess we've all been kinda busy after everything that hap—"
"Where are—" Orihime stopped after interrupting Gin, who only raised a brow in amusement. She feared some sort of repercussion, but it never came. No, he seemed to be waiting for her to continue. "—…where are my—…Kurosaki-kun, and Kuchiki-san, and—"
"They ain't here."
She stopped. She had assumed as much, but—
"An' they're safe, m'sure."
Orihime's figure visibly relaxed. It was not a definite answer, but they were alive, which meant that somewhere allies were looking them after, most likely. However, it was just once piece to the puzzle. Gin appeared to be done with the topic, though, and continued his inspection of the mainly blank room.
"Why—"
"So many questions, Orihime-chan" Gin teased, turning his characteristic grin towards the girl's rising shoulders. Her fingers tightened on her skirt. She had only asked him one, of course, but Gin had not come to provide answers to her burning questions.
"Why am I here?" she asked anyway. Gin merely tilted his head to the side.
"Shouldn't you be askin' yerself, that? Didn' ya make the decision t' come back with Ulquiorra?" They both knew that was not the response she was looking for, but Gin was never into playing fair. Besides, he did not intend to abolish the haze of confusion that was clouding her mind. It was safer than the reality.
"Why am I here?" Orihime repeated. If she wanted answers, she knew that she had to be firm about it. If Gin would respond to that, however, Orihime had no idea. But she had to try.
The tall man just stared for a long moment. His expression stayed still like a mask, but there was a contemplative hint in the lessened curl of his lips. Orihime stood waiting, her face unsure, but set in her search for answers. He was her one source of information at the moment, and she was not going to let that go to waste. Finally, he turned completely towards the young woman, taking long strides to shorten the distance between them. Orihime took a step back, finding herself against the wall.
"You sure you wanna know?"
She nodded.
Sighing, Gin scratched the back of his head in an uncharacteristic display of uncertainty. It caused the girl to doubt her decision – but no, she needed to know.
"Well," he began, letting his hand drop to his side and once again disappear within the depths of his large sleeves. "To be honest, if we hadn't taken ya back in, you probably would've jus' died out there."
Gray eyes blinked, her head lifting up to match the tall man's gaze fully. "What…?"
"Doncha remember what happened?"
Oh…she remembered.
"Shit! Not another!" he cursed as they reached yet another dead-end. Las Noches had turned into a maze of corridors and stairways, like the fortress was a sentient being intent on making an escape possible. Perhaps it was, but to those who knew the complex would have figured that there was someone changing the layouts behind the scenes. But Ichigo did not.
"Kurosaki-kun—" Her words were cut off as Ichigo took them back down the hall they had entered, Orihime bouncing uncomfortably on his shoulder. Aizen had left an open invitation for someone to rescue her, and though she held no more significance with the ex-Shinigami, Ichigo had still found his way to the fifth tower to retrieve her.
But it did not look like they intended on making escape easy.
"W-wait!" Orihime asked, but got no response. The orange-haired boy was set, even as Orihime could see a stairway appear where a wall used to be. It was endless, and seemingly impossible. She wished she could have done something to help.
Finally, in a fit of frustration, Ichigo decided to take a more forceful road. Zangetsu was swung against a solid wall, creating a makeshift pathway. He continued the strategy, Orihime having to duck and cover her head as best as she could behind his shoulder.
Just when it felt like the walls would just keep appearing, the last one fell. And so did they.
From nearly ten stories up, they took a tumble out of the white walls of Aizen's fortress. Shun Shun Rikka shot forward to make a shield in hopes to cushion their fall. Ichigo's arms curled around her, bringing her to his front and ducking her head. He set a foot down to try and catch himself in a stance in the air before they hit the ground, but a sudden blast of sand – like a bomb went off beneath their feet – shot around them.
Her vision went black.
Orihime looked pensive, feeling only more questions grow in her mind than answers. She looked up at Gin, who for once was not smiling. He did not look sad, but she was saved, for a few seconds, from his usual teasing. The man rolled his shoulders, looking off to the side like the following information was no skin off his back.
"We found ya layin' in the sand. Even though Captain Aizen said he don't need ya anymore, guess he found ya nice enough t' not let die or nothin'."
Gray eyes widened. "But, Kurosa—"
"He was gone," Gin said plainly, turning his gaze back to Orihime.
The girl was shocked. Utterly shocked. How could Ichigo have been gone? He wasn't still out there, was he? If he were, then he would have been dead by then. No one could survive that long without food or water, even Ichigo. No, he couldn't still be there. But Ichigo wouldn't have left without—
"Don't ya get it?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "Yer friends left without ya."
The room fell down on her.
The air was crushing her down, leaving an even heavier weight of a horrible realization. No, there was no way they could have left without her, but Orihime felt her resolve crack under the information. It should not, could not be trusted, coming from a man who was not known for being trusting, but she had nothing else to go off of, and no theories to offer. Why would they leave her…? They had all fought so hard to rescue her, hadn't they? She knew they had. Ulquiorra had even said so. Then why…did the not see her? What had really happened with that blast? Did Ichigo…maybe he was dead. Blown to pieces, leaving nothing behind. Maybe her comrades had assumed she was as good as dead too.
She felt like throwing up.
Kurosaki-kun…
"Now, now" Gin said to finally break the silence, his usual mirth reappearing. "I didn't come in here t' ruin yer day" His words did not register for a moment. Orihime slumped back against the wall, wanting nothing than to just fall to the floor and cry, but she had enough to hold onto, some small hopes, to keep a sense of dignity. But for how long, she could not say.
"Ain't ya gonna ask why I decided t' come and visit?" Her eyes were dull when she brought them back up to Gin's face, looking but not really at him, unfocused. Her lips opened only slightly, then closed. She was not going to ask, but Gin was feeling nice enough to tell.
"I got somethin' fer ya" He reached inside his large cloak, turning around for a moment, before facing her once again with his hands behind his back. "Wanna guess?" he asked, jiggling his shoulders to indicate what he had concealed behind himself.
Orihime just stared, not wanting games. She held onto herself, feeling her body slump further against the wall.
"Please…" But she was not sure what she was pleading for. Mercy? No. If this was mercy, then Orihime would have chosen to die alongside someone she would rather have die herself than ever see him hurt.
"C'mon Jus' a 'lil guess?"
Orihime closed her eyes, looking like she was in pain. "…" But when she reopened them, there was a set determination. "I don't know." What was there in Hueco Mundo, anyway? "Sand?" Her voice shook a bit, but she did not break eye contact with the silver-haired man.
Gin was pleasantly surprised at her response, and showed such with a widening grin. "Nope, but since ya decided t' humor me, I'll show ya" Bringing the item out, he held it out to her with his right hand. Orihime stared. And stared, looking confused and yet not entirely upset either.
"It's a notebook." A questioning gaze was lifted to his eyes, and Gin only shrugged. "Figured ya wanted somethin' to do. Should I take it back?"
"N-no…" Orihime reached out and quickly took the book. She ran her fingers over the torn paper cover, coming loose from its metal spiral binding. A pen was tucked in the spine, black and plain and quite uninteresting, but to Orihime right then, it was a sense of normalcy that she had not felt in ages.
The room was quiet as she turned the pages, and Gin watched in silence. There were notes, random lists and chores, things that had to be done. Phone numbers taken down and reminders of appointments later on. It had clearly belonged to someone else before, and was not in a script she recognized, but it seemed like pieces of art to her contact-starved mind. People had existed…and lived a life apart from this gray, gray world of empty beings and lonely halls. People had errands, and families, and a world full of color.
It was a connection to humanity. She felt herself on the brink of tears. Unable to look back up, she simply closed the cover and held it against her chest.
"…Thank you, Ichimaru-sama…" Her voice was small and weak, but found enough strength to speak all the same. Gin only shrugged.
"Found it why we were down in Karakura." That made her heart stop. "Dunno why I took it, but figured since I had it I might as well find somethin' to do with it, eh?"
He found it in her hometown…it was too much to take in. Everything he had said – from Aizen's supposed mercy at feeding her when she was nothing but a burden, the thought that her friends had left her behind, or worse died, and now a connection to the life she once led, a normal life – it was just too much.
Gin spoke again, but Orihime did not register a word. He made a graceful exit, the sway of his robes the last sound she heard before the door to her cell slid shut.
In the past, Orihime had cried often for her friends. For their woes and their pains, and the burden that she had been, and how she could not help when they most needed it.
But with a notebook clutched to her chest like a lifeline and her heart in her stomach, the auburn-haired girl finally cried for herself.