Spoiler: There will be a spoiler to the end of the film "V for Vendetta" (which I don't own, by the way), although not exactly explicit. So if you haven't yet seen this amazing movie, I encourage you to!
Ichigo swung around his massive sword, returning the black zanpakutou to its position behind his back. After a long game of cat and mouse, he had just finished off a rather powerful Hollow that had been crawling around the city. The Hollow was significantly stronger than the ones that would appear regularly in the human world, and the extra time it took to vanquish it was making Ichigo late for supper.
"Great, now I've gotta put up with that idiot's complaining," Ichigo grumbled half to himself, half to his short shinigami companion. "How much do you wanna bet that even if I tell him I was caught up with a Hollow, he'll still attack me? The guy's a lunatic!" However, the redhead's ranting, oddly, was met only with silence as Rukia briskly walked past him towards the Kurosaki Clinic. Ichigo frowned, following.
"Oi, Rukia," Ichigo continued in a more pensive tone, despite his friend's distant attitude, "isn't it weird how powerful that Hollow was? Ya don't usually see 'em that strong." Rukia just continued walking ahead of him, facing downwards as if she wasn't hearing a word he was saying.
"And it just kept running away! I've never seen a Hollow run away like that one did. And he wasn't chasing after something or anything…" Ichigo grumbled, amazed over his friend's continual lack of reaction. Usually, Rukia would have already cut him off and told him to stop complaining, or would have offered some kind of explanation, or would just have justified it by saying that his skills were unrefined. In any case, instead of getting a cheeky remark, Ichigo was getting the cold shoulder, and there was only one possible reason for that: Rukia was stressed over something serious.
Ichigo hadn't noticed anything odd with her behaviour that morning; Rukia had been her usual self. But then, when Ichigo saw Rukia at lunch, she was all spacey. Even before he had arrived, Chad had later told him, she had been keeping to herself, and seemed to have been deep in thought ever since she had spoken with Orihime in the classroom.
"Oi, Rukia," Ichigo attempted again tentatively. They were just around the corner from the Kurosaki residence, Rukia walking mutely a few paces in front of him. The annoyance at her silence had long since subsided, and every moment that passed made the Vizard that much more worried. And Ichigo was now worried enough to break the awkward silence. "If there's ever anything you need to talk about… I'm here, okay?"
With only a small hesitation, the small shinigami continued her brisk walk. Arriving before the Kurosaki Clinic, she jumped lithely through the window of Ichigo's room, closing it silently behind her.
"Aww, come on Ulquiorra!" Orihime pleaded as Ulquiorra held her hands behind her back. Her struggle against his firm hold on her wrists was in vain. "You're a growing teenage boy! I know that you must still be hungry!"
"No." Ulquiorra answered curtly as he pushed Orihime forward and onto the living room couch. She was sprawled out beneath him, her fiery hair a beautiful contrast to the deep blue of the couch. "I have been well fed, and I will not eat another bite. Now stay here while I get rid of all this food." Releasing his hold on the girl, he gracefully made his way back to the table, Orihime hot on his tracks.
"It's not fair, you know," Orihime huffed as she helped Ulquiorra bring the half-eaten food to the kitchen. She was surprised to see him actually lifting something; Orihime had imagined him the type to pass off ordinary work to others, asserting something about not 'dirtying himself with the affairs of trash.' "Whenever I didn't want to eat, you forced me."
"That was to keep you alive," Ulquiorra retorted monotonously. Although his countenance was as cold as ever, he was enjoying the girl's crazy antics. Her round pouting face was inexplicably adorable. "If I eat anymore of your food, my stomach will undoubtedly burst open."
"But you said that you liked it!" Orihime stopped Ulquiorra from throwing the food in the garbage, and instead put the leftovers in a Tupperware and into the fridge. Ulquiorra, now completely recovered and as sharp as ever, followed suit with the rest of the plates.
"Orihime, I said that it was palatable. There is a difference." Orihime laughed at his deadly serious remark, earning herself a pointed glare from the emerald-eyed teenager. The food put away, the redhead started to wash the dishes by hand.
"Do you feel any better, Ulquiorra?" Orihime smiled brightly as the slender man leaned on the counter beside her, reading the label on a can of tomato soup. She couldn't tell if he looked intensely concentrated on the fine printing or utterly disinterested.
"My body is still rather sore, but it is bearable." Ulquiorra answered distractedly as he placed the can into the cupboard.
"You'll be all better once you've had a nice warm bath and a good night's sleep." Orihime handed Ulquiorra the wet plate and a dish towel. "Do you mind drying?" Ulquiorra nodded almost imperceptibly and grabbed the two objects into his hands. The former espada never would have thought that he would ever be reduced to doing the dishes. Cleaning was for trash. But he couldn't let Orihime do all the work alone…
"There's someone that I want to introduce you to at school tomorrow, Ulquiorra," Orihime said conversationally, although the glee emanating from her was hard to miss. "Her name is Arisawa Tatsuki. She's my best friend."
"Un," Ulquiorra remarked quietly to show that he was listening.
"She's the closest thing to family that I have," Orihime continued, the memories bringing a smile to her face. "I met her when I was in Middle School. Ever since then, she's always been by my side."
Orihime look to the side, and her eyes met Ulquiorra's. "Tatsuki has always protected me. Kind of like you do. I'm sure that you two will get along great!"
A heart-warming smile spread across Orihime's face, the sincerity of her voice making Ulquiorra even less eager to go to school the next day. "I can't wait to see her again; I've missed her so much this last month."
The two finished the dishes in comfortable silence, each retreating into their own thoughts. Working together, they were soon done, and Orihime led Ulquiorra from the kitchen.
As he sat on the couch, Orihime searched through her hallway closet, where she had stored her late brother's cloths. She had never had the heart to throw them out. They were very poor when her brother was alive, so there was really nothing else to remember him by than his cloths. And, even now, when Orihime knew that Sora was resting in peace in Soul Society, she just couldn't bear the thought of taking everything that belonged to him and putting it in garbage bags. She could never go through with it.
The redhead shuffled through the closet for a few more minutes, noticing for the first time that none of her elder brother's cloths actually matched. Well, they had lived on coupons back then…
Giving up on finding anything remotely stylish, Orihime extracted navy blue sweat pants, stiff cotton boxers, a white button-up shirt, and a black pull-over sweater. Satisfied with the mismatched fruits of her labour, Orihime returned to the living room, where Ulquiorra was eying the childish décor critically, planning a complete renovation.
"I'm going to run the water for your bath," the redhead started, holding the bundle of cloths out to him. "Once you're done, you can change into these."
"Very well," the Arrancar replied sombrely as he took the bundle from Orihime's delicate hands.
"And, um…" Orihime looked down as she wrung her hands nervously, pulling Ulquiorra's attention off of the package on his lap. "Just so you know, in the human world, boys and girls aren't supposed to see each other naked… So, could you please have a little… discretion?"
"Where do you think you're going, you ungrateful son?" Isshin had been even more flaky than usual ever since the final battle against Aizen. He used seemingly every opportunity to bring up Ichigo's 'warrior upbringing' and the need for 'shinigami family bonding.' For precisely this reason, Ichigo was headed upstairs.
"I'm going up to my room to sleep," Ichigo snapped, losing his patience yet again. He carried with him a plate of teriyaki noodles, his 'midnight snack.' "I've had a long day!"
"You never spend any time with me! What would your mother think? Masaki–" The shinigami's wailing was cut off by an abrupt facial impact with a toaster, courtesy, of course, of Karin.
"You know he's got that girlfriend of his up there, so why are you trying to interrupt?" Karin questioned in a level tone, the heel of her foot digging into her father's crying face.
"Girlfriend?" Yuzu's eyes light up with curiosity, as she looked up from the bubble-filled kitchen sink.
"Karin," Isshin kneeled before his daughter, awe-struck. "You can sense Ichigo's girlfriend's presence, too? You're so amazing Karin! You'll surpass your ungrateful brother in no time!" His face swelled with unbridled pride as he tackled Karin into a bone-crushing hug, only to be knocked out by a solid punch the next moment.
Up the stairs, Ichigo's face reddened in the hallway's darkness. "I can hear everything you guys are saying…"
Well, Ulquiorra was in the bath. And Orihime honestly hadn't lied; the heat did relieve him of his soreness. The sensation of having his every muscle relax as he was submerged beneath the hot water was entirely new to him. There had been showers in Las Noches, but they seemed entirely different than the shower-tub that Ulquiorra was in at the moment. The shower that he had had in his private bathroom was essentially a powerful sprinkler whose jets used intense water pressure to blast off all blood and sand from his toned, steel-like Arrancar skin. Unlike the human concept of bathing, there was no need for such shameful things as colourful loufas or lilac-scented soaps.
Hot steam was circling over the bubbles of the bathtub, completely clouding the mirror of the small pink bathroom. Letting his ebony hair flow freely in the water beneath him, the pale-skinned Arrancar's long legs were draw up so that his knees were above the water. The bathtub was too small to fit his outstretched legs and his torso at the same time. To Ulquiorra's side, a cheerful yellow ducky bobbed up and down slowly with every slight ripple of the water.
The Arrancar was secretly very proud of himself. Ulquiorra had flawlessly executed the human art of 'pooping,' just as Orihime had explained (in her own way), demonstrating once again his warrior prowess when faced with adversity. Ulquiorra was confident that he could handle anything his worthless gigai threw at him.
There was, however, that one condition that had not yet been rectified. Urahara had told him that if he had any problems getting used to the Material World, he should ask Orihime or someone with authority, like a teacher. The droning principal had advised him the same way. The Arrancar figured it was worth a try…
Ulquiorra mentally went over the events of the day. From the human girl's visit in the morning to Orihime's supper in the evening, the former espada realized that he had made a lot of progress. The grey-eyed girl seemed to trust him, to hold some sort of emotional attachment to him, even. Without even offering an apology, the sins of his past were forgiven by none other than his former captive.
What Ulquiorra found the strangest, however, was that he enjoyed the idea that she had feelings for him. He found himself wanting her to look at him, to talk to him. She drew him in, and the emotionally- distant approach that Ulquiorra had planned to tackle this challenge with was quickly forsaken for a more fulfilling alternative.
The emerald-eyed Arrancar soaked in the water for a long while after washing his hair and body as Orihime had instructed. He reclined in the lukewarm water, unable to think of anything but his Orihime. He never would have thought that someone could smile so much. Her laughter was warm and inviting, her eyes playful and shining, her hair like the fiery halo of an angel…
Dissatisfied with the tepid water, Ulquiorra sat up in the tub and reached for the faucet, thoughts of Orihime's radiance never leaving him…
Half-way through lunch period, Ichigo had finished filling Tatsuki in on the events of the last few months, and had gone to find Rukia. He didn't really have anything to tell her (hey, he wasn't a messenger), but found himself seeking her out without even being aware of it. He realized this when he found her sitting with Chad and Ishida, and, although he thought it was strange, he just shrugged it off. He wasn't exactly the profound type.
As he strode casually over to his friends' table, Ichigo noticed that something was off. Rukia's eyes were clouded over with… worry? Anxiety? Frustration? Chad was silently staring at something down the street, but there was a certain edginess about him that was out of the ordinary. As for the Quincy, he seemed to be deep in thought, and mumbling something that the others were only half listening to. Joining his nakama at their table, the confused Ichigo asked them what they were looking so freaked out about.
"Orihime seems to have taken Ulquiorra somewhere," Ishida stated simply, his voice clipping. Ichigo's eyes widened, before they were buried beneath his furrowed brow. That was definitely not good. At least it's not the other way around… "I was just thinking whether or not I should pursue them…"
Ichigo leaned over the table and followed Uryuu's gaze down the street, where he saw Orihime holding Ulquiorra's hand and leading him quickly away from the school. Confused, Ichigo leaned back. That's weird, Inoue never skips class…
It was then that Ichigo noticed that Rukia, who was sitting across from him, was looking directly at him with purple eyes wide as saucers. For some reason, she looked really shaken up, and he couldn't for the life of him decipher the look in her eyes.
"Oh, ya," Ichigo said, almost as a diversion, looking away quickly. Something weird was going on. "Tatsuki dropped by Inoue's place this morning. Apparently, Ulquiorra wouldn't let her in 'cause Inoue was sleeping. Tatsuki was about to beat the crap outta him, but Urahara appeared outta nowhere and stopped her."
"So Urahara is protecting the Arrancar…" Uryuu's suspicions were confirmed, which meant that Urahara was likely using Ulquiorra as a test subject… The Quincy was contemplating the possible intentions of the troublesome shop owner when something else hit him belatedly. "What? Ulquiorra spent the night at Inoue-san's apartment? He could have killed her!" Why is this idiot treating this so casually?
Ichigo scowled at his shouting friend. "Obviously he could've killed her," he stole a glance at Rukia. "But he didn't, so stop yelling."
"Do you not comprehend the gravity of this situation," Ishida shot back, before he calmed himself down. "This is the Cuatro Espada we're talking about! You should show just a little more concern for Inoue-san!"
"Well, there's more." Ichigo, ignoring Ishida's outburst, noticed that Rukia had spaced out on him again, so tried once more to get her attention. "Urahara thinks that Inoue and Ulquiorra are in love."
The moment that the words were spoken, everyone reacted strongly. Rukia's eyes once again became saucers; it was beyond shock, inexplicably, the look on her face was more akin to injury, further confusing Ichigo. Uryuu froze over and bristled, spitting with a mouth full of vitriol the words 'that isn't possible.' Even Yasutora's eyes widened, his jaw dropping slightly.
"What do you think we should do… Rukia," Ichigo baited. Although he would never admit it out loud, the only reason he asked her this, instead of going off and doing whatever he pleased on his own, was because the look on Rukia's face worried him. She seemed to be struggling with something, and it looked like it was tearing her apart. The men at the table waited a long moment for Rukia's response.
"We… should just leave Ulquiorra and Inoue alone for a while," the shinigami murmured, sunlight caught in her raven hair as she raised her eyes to meet Ichigo's expectant gaze. Her violet eyes bore into Ichigo's brown eyes with a flicker of the fierce passion she was known for. "If they are in love, then it's cruel for anyone to try to get between them. They're going to be having enough problems as it is."
"Kuchiki-san, you can't be buying this," Ishida replied, the cool back in his voice. "We have no reason to believe that either of them loves the other." Uryuu was really itching to give that Arrancar a one-way ticket to oblivion. If left as is, the situation could only mean trouble for Orihime.
"I am… absolutely certain… that Inoue loves him." The words seemed difficult for her to say, and, for no apparent reason, Rukia's cheeks blushed a light pink as her gaze drifted cutely to the side. Yasutora smiled knowingly, as Ichigo's scowl intensified. It was at that specific moment that Ichigo realized that he would never understand women.
Rukia wasn't able to look Ichigo in the eye for the rest of the day, and she barely uttered a word to him.
In the other room, Orihime carefully placed the snacks on the low living room table, fidgeting over their positions and placements. There were salt and vinegar chips topped with red bean paste, Pringles with a dipping sauce of English cream and crushed M&Ms, as well as cheesed pickles. The movie was already in the DVD player, ready for Ulquiorra to emerge from the bath. The ever-grinning Orihime had also brought her big navy comforter to the couch, although not without clumsily bumping into everything in her path.
"Everything's finally ready for Ulquiorra's first movie night," Orihime exclaimed brightly to herself, throwing her hands above her head in celebration, her vibrant hair doing a playful jump. "I hope that he likes the one I bought!"
Choosing the perfect movie had taken a lot of effort. Orihime figured that Ulquiorra would probably only go for a thought-provoking movie, which further limited her choices in the small movie stand of the supermarket. On top of being pressed to return home quickly to feed Ulquiorra, Orihime had to worry about what kind of message the movie conveyed. She didn't want to inadvertently make him feel unwelcome, or make him think that she thought badly of him because he used to be a bad guy, or anything. Orihime had no doubt that Ulquiorra would pick up on all of the film's themes.
Luckily for the redheaded teenager, she had found a picture that seemed to be both thought-provoking and gracious. And on top of that, it was an action movie! Orihime plopped herself down on her fluffy comforter, quite literally bouncing with excitement. She couldn't wait to see how Ulquiorra would react to the film.
A full twenty seconds of restless fidgeting later, Orihime decided that Ulquiorra was taking too long, and made a beeline to the bathroom to investigate.
"Ulquiorra," Orihime called gently from just beyond the bathroom door. "Is everything alright in there?" After ten seconds, when there was no response, the confused redhead gently pressed her ear up against the door. Straining her hearing, Orihime heard the powerful spray of the showerhead's jet, and the occasional sounds of an irregular banging.
Startled by the odd noises, Orihime called out to Ulquiorra in a loud voice, but was replied only by the sound of glass shattering. Her eyes widening, the redhead busted through the unlocked door, almost gasping at the sight before her.
The showerhead was whipping around the small bathroom violently, banging forcefully against the wall of the shower and the glass mirror a few feet away. The cheap utensil was propelled by an obscene amount of scorching water that had already soaked every inch of the room. The washroom was like a sauna, and was clouded by an extreme amount of hot misty steam.
Amidst it all, a startled Ulquiorra was standing a few feet in front of the door in his boxers, seemingly edging towards the door while looking at the scene before him wide-eyed. He was torn between the kill-anything-that-threatens-you attitude of an Espada and the maybe-I-should-call-Orihime attitude of someone who had never before worked an Earth shower.
On impulse, Orihime rushed to Ulquiorra's rescue. The showerhead was known to be unable to handle much water pressure. The grey-eyed girl dashed towards the plastic showerhead, trying to latch onto the tube without getting hit by the head's violent and erratic motion. Water soon soaked the teenager's clothing and hair, the hot spray blinding her momentarily and causing her to jump back. As she retreated, she almost fell backwards on the soaked white tiles. Deciding on a new approach, the redhead hesitantly approached the utensil gone haywire, reaching her arms out when she thought the shower's tube might be within reach.
Ulquiorra, gathering from Orihime's actions that the phenomenon he was witnessing was indeed abnormal, strode quickly to the other end of the washroom and turned the faucet of the tub, effectively cutting off the water. The showerhead went limp just as Orihime, with a burst of resolution, was reaching up to it, and it fell ungracefully on her forehead.
Before the object could reach the floor, however, Ulquiorra turned back around towards Orihime and caught the offending object easily. The showerhead in hand, Ulquiorra looked down at Orihime as if questioning what had just happened. Orihime just squinted, rubbing her head as she mumbled to herself.
"Owie… I-I'm so sorry, Ulquiorra, it's old and does that sometimes. Are you alright? Did it hit you?" The redhead, her eyes wide, finally turned her head shakily towards her guest, to see him standing like a ghost in a cloud of mist. The ghost dropped the shower head.
"It seems that you were the one who was hurt," Ulquiorra answered monotonously as he instinctively reached out his now-empty hand to rub the girl's head. Orihime, her already-wired nerves startled by the sudden action, tried to step back quickly, only to slip on the wet floor with a yelp. In an attempt to catch the stumbling Orihime before she fell, Ulquiorra caught her wrist and tried to pull her back into a vertical position. Tripping yet again, Orihime fell forward towards Ulquiorra this time, causing both to tumble down into the bathtub. They were a mangle of limbs as they careened downwards awkwardly to the sound of Orihime's high-pitched scream. There was a huge splash as the water burst over the edge of the bathtub.
Orihime's eyes were screwed shut, bracing for an impact that never came, and her drenched orange hair covered her eyes. Unaware of her position, Orihime opened her mouth to let out the bath water that she had taken in as she had screamed. The water was squirted out onto Ulquiorra's bare chest as he watched her incredulously.
Sitting up in the steam-filled room, Orihime wiped the water and hair from her face, and then opened her eyes to another shocking sight.
The redhead was straddling the hips of a half-naked, although submerged, Ulquiorra, who was giving her the particular blank glare that conveyed how idiotic he thought she was. His inky black hair was in a mess, strands streaking his face uniformly down to his deep frown. He was still gripping the edges of the bathtub awkwardly, in the same strenuous position that he had gotten himself into by braking Orihime's fall with his body.
Orihime broke out in uncontrollable laughter as the tension in her body was released all at once. Entirely forgetting about being embarrassed, she couldn't help but find humour in the whole situation.
Watching the girl laugh at him to his face, even in such a ridiculous position and with his hair in disarray, Ulquiorra was still able to muster a glare that promised her a slow and painful death.
"What do you think you are doing, Orihime?" Ulquiorra asked, a definite edge in his stiff tone. Orihime just laughed harder, tears of mirth flowing from her eyes as she held her stomach.
"My… shower attacked you!" Orihime managed between gasps for air as she continued to laugh at the helpless Arrancar. "You look so silly!" Orihime ruffled Ulquiorra's hair playfully, ignoring his pointed stare.
Ulquiorra couldn't believe it. No matter how familiar she was becoming with him, she should still possess the common sense not to laugh at him like this.
"Your make-up was washed away," Orihime ventured as she laughed even harder, tenderly wiping away some of the black that was leaking down his cheek. "We'll have to go buy you some of the good water-proof stuff!"
The Arrancar had half a mind to shove a hand through her throat… well, perhaps that was an exaggeration, but Ulquiorra certainly wanted to get back at Orihime for his humiliation. In his perplexing frustration, the pale Arrancar did something that neither he nor Orihime would have ever expected. He splashed Orihime's face, none too playfully, with some of the tub water. There was an incredulous silence, as Orihime stared at the soaked Ulquiorra with wide grey eyes.
"Stop mocking me immediately," Ulquiorra uttered dryly, reinforcing his action. Another silence.
"Ulquiorra, did you just splash me?" Orihime spoke with a blank face and a tone so serious that it was eerie coming out of her. And then that mischievous twinkle appeared in her eye, as she cracked a playful smile, as if she had just accepted a challenge. "I, the master of water paintball?"
"Wha-," the confused Ulquiorra started, but was interrupted by an abrupt, faster-than-lighting splash in the face. Ulquiorra, clearly not amused, wiped the water out of his eyes just in time to see Orihime dashing from the bathroom. It's about time that I teach this woman who her master is…
Ulquiorra rose from the bathtub and strode out of the washroom with a warrior's resolution that didn't match his wet appearance, or his near-nakedness. The moment he got to the hall, he raised his right hand instinctively to catch an object that flew at him from the kitchen. Looking down, Ulquiorra saw that it was a pink plastic… something. "The rules of the game are simple: whoever gets their opponent the wettest wins! Your base is the bathroom; mine is the kitchen. Begin!"
Promptly, a weak squirt of water was just able to reach his frowning face from beyond the kitchen's island. The top of a head of orange hair popped up for just a moment to check her aim. Ulquiorra looked down at the bright pink object in his hand, and he knew what he had to do.
Very well, Orihime. Never mind that we are both already soaked to the bone… I will defeat you at your own game, under your own terms. And then my authority over you will be absolute...
Entering his room silently, almost as if it didn't belong to him, Ichigo walked over to his desk and set down the plate in his hands. Surprisingly, he didn't hear any stirring within the walls, not even from Kon. A moment later, he discovered why. The loud-yet-lovable Mod soul was currently rocking back and forth in the corner of the room, fear rolling off of him in waves.
"Wow, what happened to you?" Ichigo called from the other side of the room, leaning casually over his desk. He looked down at his furry friend with a curious scowl.
"Co-co-come closer," Kon stuttered dramatically in a whisper. "It was… horrible!"
"What happened? Did you do something to make Rukia flip out at you again?" Ichigo already knew the answer, but couldn't help asking. He had never seen Kon look so shaken up. What's wrong with people today?
"Shhh!" Kon hushed vigorously, jumping up to grip Ichigo by the collar, then whispered conspiratorially in his ear. "She doesn't want to be disturbed."
Ichigo gripped Kon by the head, pulling off the plushy's bear-trap-like grip on his shirt. "Ya, I kinda figured that."
"You don't understand, you idiot!" Kon pressed while struggling under Ichigo's firm grasp. "Something must've gone horribly, terribly wrong! There is no other reason for such cold words…"
"You probably just got on her nerves," Ichigo concluded after a moment, throwing Kon over his shoulder carelessly, and then letting himself fall over onto his bed. Man, was he tired.
"But I didn't do anything wrong!" Ichigo shot the stuffed lion a glare.
"Well, I didn't do anything out of the ordinary!" Kon crossed his plush arms stubbornly, sitting on the floor by Ichigo's bed. A few moments passed in silence.
"Ya didn't do something stupid like feel up Orihime-chan in front of Nee-san, did you?" Another silence.
"What?" Ichigo exploded, red to the tips of his ears. "Why would I do something like that?"
Kon shrugged. "'Cause she's hot?"
"What does Inoue have to do with any of this anyway?" Ichigo breathed deep, wary that Rukia might bust through the closet door at any minute and beat him to a bloody pulp for being too loud.
"Isn't it obvious? You do this daring romantic rescue and sweep Nee-san off her feet, and then you go behind her back and do the same thing with Orihime-chan! Nee-san must be jealous," Kon explained matter-of-factly. Almost as an afterthought, he added, "You're a two-timer."
"Stop talking nonsense," Ichigo cringed at the picture Kon was painting. Damn Kon for dragging him into his perverted fantasies. "Rukia's not stupid enough to think like you. Whatever's bothering her, it definitely isn't that."
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure, my friend. I've seen the way that Nee-san looks at you…" Kon raised an eyebrow suggestively at the embarrassed redhead.
"Alright, that's it, you're coming out." With no more as warning, Ichigo shot his hand down Kon's plush throat and extracted his soul pill. Placing the capsule carefully on his night side table, Ichigo turned off the light, allowing the night to flood the room. Slowly, the Vizard undressed, feeling hyperaware of Rukia presence just beyond the sliding closet doors. What could possibly be bothering her so much?
Sighing, the redhead crawled back into bed, exhausted over the day's drama. He turned to face the wall of his room, away from the closet.
"If you get hungry tonight, there's a plate of teriyaki noodles waiting for you out here." With those words, clear in the darkness, Ichigo closed his eyes and tried to force his worries out of his mind.
"Aha!" Orihime shouted triumphantly as she recklessly rounded the corner of the hall, shooting water out of her water gun madly.
"You missed again," a voice sounded calmly from behind her. Orihime swung around instantly, but she was too late. Ulquiorra poured a bucket of water over her head, distracting her for long enough for him to ghost silently back to the bathtub for more ammo.
The redhead dragged herself ruggedly back behind the kitchen island, hoping that it would provide some level of cover. Orihime leaned against the side of it, breathing heavily as she brushed the hair out of her determined grey eyes. Anyone who had ever played sports with Orihime knew that once she got into the game, there was no stopping her.
Sensing something, Orihime's head shot up, and, of course, Ulquiorra was ready for another round. His emerald eyes impassive, despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he let the water in the bucket trickle menacingly onto Orihime's surprised round face. Jumping to her feet, the redhead threw herself onto the sink before her in a flurry of orange and clutched the water jet tightly, pointing it, in a gesture just as menacing, at the Arrancar.
"You're done, Ulquiorra," Orihime declared with a victorious smile, as she tightened her grasp on the object she held like a gun. In a swift motion, she turned on the tap to full blast. She was soaking wet; if she didn't get a good shot in now, Ulquiorra would be the winner.
"I will never lose to you," Ulquiorra shot back tonelessly as he positioned himself for the final attack, his eyes set on his kill. Those eyes of hers would always make him rise to her challenge, and whoever came out of this last battle the victor would be the one to claim ultimate triumph.
Ulquiorra made the first move. With all the skill and grace of a former espada, he dove over the kitchen island, and pushed down Orihime's armed hands. Now leaning over her, effectively cornering his target and eliminating the possibility of escape, with his other hand, Ulquiorra swung the bucket of water towards the girl, throwing the water out onto her. At the same moment, however, Orihime stealthily snuck her hand into the sink and pulled out her secret ace: a huge bowl now overflowing with the tap's water, which she flung at Ulquiorra with full force.
When the dust (or, rather, the water) settled, both Ulquiorra and Orihime were soaked to the bone and panting for air. Their faces were just inches apart, and big droplets of water flowed down their faces and dripped from their hair, noses and chins.
"Should we call it a tie," Orihime questioned between pants, blinking away the water drops on her long eyelashes. She felt totally drained; as much as she wanted to, she was unable to continue the game. Ulquiorra must have been the toughest opponent Orihime had ever faced (which made sense, she supposed, seeing as how he was the former forth espada and all).
"For now." Ulquiorra, despite his unprecedented desire to claim complete and absolute victory, knew when it was time to stop. His gigai was stubbornly complaining over all the stain he was putting it through. If he were in his true form, however, Orihime would never have stood a chance against him, Ulquiorra asserted internally, as he nursed the wound in his newly-relevant ego.
Beyond all of that, though, Ulquiorra was looking forward to his next round against Orihime. That determined look of hers had never failed to make his blood boil, and he was glad that he was finally able to actually act on his aggression on equal ground with her. Even better, she never backed down once. She had no one to protect her against him, and she didn't want anyone to protect her. That was the Orihime Ulquiorra wanted to see.
Ulquiorra leaned further over the counter as he sharply took in a breath of air. It was then that he noticed that Orihime was swaying ever so slightly, her eyes half lidded.
"I'm hungry," Orihime decided as she slipped off of the counter, out of Ulquiorra's grasp. He gazed at her questioningly, and realized that she looked really tired.
Shaking off the thought, the slender Arrancar strode back to the bathroom to get dressed. As he did so, he noticed the state of the small apartment. It looked every bit like the battle-ground it was. Furniture was tumbled around chaotically, the floor was littered with water guns, bowls, glasses, and other weapons of war, and, of course, everything was soaking wet.
After taking his time to dry himself off thoroughly and finally getting the rest of his cloths on, Ulquiorra put significant effort into washing off all of the black make-up on his face. He did not want Orihime laughing at him again. He had never really minded it when Grimmjow or the other Arrancar had laughed at him, but somehow for Orihime it was different. He had burned with an unfamiliar feeling: embarrassment. Even though he knew that Orihime had never meant to be insulting, that she was just being playful, and that, in any case, he shouldn't allow her to have that measure of control over him, Ulquiorra couldn't help it.
When he was done, he found Orihime, in pink pyjamas, curled up on the couch, wrapped in her comforter and snacking on some of the leftovers from supper. A simple white towel held up her dripping wet hair in a twist. When the grey-eyed girl noticed Ulquiorra coming down the hall, she beckoned him over with an inviting smile.
"I almost forgot!" Orihime, the picture of ease, moved over on the couch, making room for Ulquiorra to sit down next to her. "I prepared everything for a movie night. Do you want to watch with me, Ulquiorra?"
"A movie?" Ulquiorra was familiar with the word; Aizen had what Gin had called a 'movie room' where he had spent hours on end watching footage of battles past, studying the enemies and their tactics. Ulquiorra couldn't help but scoff at this; for all his planning and his overbearing confidence, the dictator had failed miserably.
Ulquiorra had a hunch, however, that, judging from Orihime's peaceful demeanour, the human definition of 'movie' was slightly different from Gin's.
"Yup," Orihime sang with a sweet smile. She lifted the comforter off the other side of the couch, motioning for Ulquiorra to come sit with her beneath the navy blanket. "It's a Western movie, and it seems really good. It's about this terrorist that fights his government for the freedom of the people of his country. I think that you will be able to learn a lot about humanity from it!" Ulquiorra just stared for another moment, before taking his seat next to Orihime and allowing her to wrap him in the comforter.
"Why do humans watch 'movies,' Orihime," Ulquiorra questioned, as he resisted the urge to snuggle into the couch's warmth. "Ichimaru spoke of movies as an assembly of battle footage."
"Well, that's not really how it is here, unless it's a documentary on World War II, or something." Orihime reached over the side of the couch to hit the light switch, and then turned around to face Ulquiorra completely. Her eyes sparkled in the faint blue light of the television screen. "For humans, movies are an expression of their culture. A good movie is like a snapshot of what it means to be human."
"I see that humans are rather self-centered," Ulquiorra remarked monotonously. Orihime brought her index finger to her chin and inclined her head upward, considering his statement.
"No… I think of it more that, like, to understand anything in the human world, you have to understand how humans are. It all comes down to human nature, you see. But most movies that try to capture that end up failing miserably, so filmmakers usually stick to the boring, everyday stuff." As she spoke, Orihime's thoughtful attitude dissipated, and she suddenly became very excited. "The best movies, though, are action movies! You should see the cool things that people can do with special effects!"
"After all the fighting you have seen, you can still watch something like that and take pleasure from it?" The Arrancar's question was serious.
"Well, I suppose something will be different, but I hope that I'll still be able to enjoy action movies despite everything." Orihime diverted her eyes; she had never considered that. The last time she had seen a movie had been before she had left for Soul Society. Between then and now, there had simply been no time to. Between then and now, she had been kidnapped. And now she was about to watch "V for Vendetta" with her kidnapper…
"In any case, the 'action' you have seen on the battlefield should be much more enthralling than anything a human and a computer can construct." Ulquiorra sensed a downturn in Orihime's mood, and for some reason it was making him uncomfortable. His emerald eyes focused on her troubled grey eyes. "Unfortunately for you, however, you will not be able to watch a close fight again for a long time. All of your nakama are past the point where a Hollow in this world could inflict any serious harm upon them."
Orihime had to giggle at that. It was almost like he was trying to comfort her. "That is unfortunate. Are you sure that you don't want to fight anyone? You were here only one day and you already managed to make everyone angry with you…"
"That was only because they failed to understand my purpose here," Ulquiorra replied briskly. He was going to have to face all those irritating people again the next day at school. Why was it his fate to have to mingle with trash?
"Well, you have to understand, they're just worried about me. You can't blame them for caring about their friend." Orihime watched Ulquiorra in the darkness for any reaction, but the only movement he made was to draw his legs up onto the couch. He looked more laid-back than Orihime had ever seen him.
"I suppose that that would not be incongruous with their characters. Your nakama obviously hold 'friendship' in high regard." Ulquiorra repositioned himself beneath the comforters so that he was facing
the redhead. "Although I cannot relate to the depth of their concern, I understand that you would be unhappy if there were to be conflict between them and I. For that reason, I will not instigate anything."
"I don't think you need to do anything to instigate their anger," Orihime replied with a giggle. "Just the way that you've been so close to me has gotten them nervous. But I guess that that's their problem." The redhead shrugged casually before looking up to Ulquiorra questioningly.
"But, Ulquiorra," Orihime started, genuinely intrigued. "Why me? You said that you were drawn to me from the beginning, and that's why you convinced Aizen to kidnap me, but why were you drawn to me, of all people?"
"You, 'of all people'? Are you blind?" Ulquiorra stared at Orihime with the incredulous variation of his blank glare. "Your beauty is unparalleled."
"Wh-what?" Orihime stuttered in shock, as a blush rose to her face. "Th-that's flattering, but are you saying that you kidnapped me because you think I'm pretty?"
"You could say that," Ulquiorra agreed, as if it didn't make him sound like a crazed stalker. "But it wasn't your beauty that fascinated me. It was your eyes."
"My eyes?" Orihime questioned, unsure what to make of these new revelations. "What's so special about my eyes?"
"Your eyes are so expressive that I felt that, by looking into them, I could see into your very soul," the Arrancar explained as his emerald eyes delved into Orihime's, as if to punctuate his point. "There is something so inherently entrancing about the display of emotions dancing in your eyes. I feel as if I am unable to look away.
"I knew from the moment I first saw you that I had to have you," Ulquiorra continued in a hushed tone, as Orihime gazed back at him with a blush on her face. They leaned unconsciously towards each other. "Since then, not a minute goes by where I am not reminded of you. Your image haunted me until I finally possessed you, but, even then, I was unable to let go of my obsession. As it turned out, your overly-expressive eyes were a cruel irony."
"What do you mean?" Orihime murmured softly in the dark.
"No matter how much I sought to understand your essence, it always eluded me. Whenever I thought that I understood you, you would surprise me." Ulquiorra raised a skeletal hand to Orihime's cheek, and gently traced the line of her jaw. "Even now, you amaze me. I never would have thought you capable of such strategy and fearless execution."
"Hah, I really don't know what to make of all of this," Orihime admitted with a nervous giggle. "But, to tell you the truth, I've been thinking about you non-stop for the last twenty-four hours, but that might have just been because I've been so worried about you…" Her voice drifted off, and there was a pregnant silence.
"I would also never have thought, Orihime, that you would be strong enough to overcome the fear and pain I subjected you to so quickly." His voice was nothing but a murmur in the half-dark, almost as if it wasn't even there. "I must commend you."
"Thank you," Orihime answered, her eyes shining. "And thank you for today, Ulquiorra. Seeing you in such a different situation, all while you're the same person as always, it really made me feel like I can believe in my convictions. I knew all along that I was right about you." The two just gazed deeply into each others eyes for another long moment, before Orihime broke the silence.
"So, are you ready to start the movie?"
Although it took a while, Ichigo was finally able to relax, his exhaustion forcing his spirit into a heavy slumber. However, just as he soon as he was able to fall asleep, it seemed, he was awake again, staring blankly at the ceiling above him. Ichigo was still tired, but it no longer seemed overpowering; instead, he felt like he was dreaming.
The teenager was wondering what had woken him up when he noticed a figure standing by his window. She was slender in her childish pyjamas and graceful in the gentle moonlight. Her indigo eyes gazed at the moon as her feminine brow furrowed slightly. Ichigo no longer saw any confusion in her eyes; instead, a myriad of other emotions could be seen, changing in such rapid succession that the one blended into the other.
"Oh, Ichigo," Rukia murmured, with just a hint of surprise, as she turned her head slowly to face her friend. "I'm sorry that I woke you."
"It's alright, Rukia," the Vizard murmured back, as he sat up and tried to clear the sleep from his mind. "What're you doing up so late?"
Rukia turned back to the window, closing her big eyes despondently with an audible sigh. "I'm just… thinking."
"What have you been thinking about that's so terrible that you had to ignore me all day?" Ichigo questioned after a moment, a light scowl on his face. "You know that you can talk to me about anything."
Glancing back at Ichigo sadly, Rukia smiled an uncharacteristically weak smile. "This is different, Ichigo."
"How is it different," Ichigo questioned firmly, rising from his bed. "You're worried about something. What is it?"
"I can't tell you," Rukia replied, somewhat defensively.
"Why?" Ichigo was becoming increasingly frustrated. "Did something happen in Soul Society? With Byakuya?"
"No, nothing happened in Soul Society. And Nii-sama's fine," Rukia looked back out the window. It was painful for her to see Ichigo's worried face, and it was all because of those feelings that she couldn't quell…
"Then, what is it?" Ichigo asked again, struggling to lower his voice to a whisper. Now that Rukia was actually talking to him, he wasn't going to let her slip away. Suddenly, the Vizard remembered what Chad had told him earlier that day. "Is it because of what Inoue told you in class today?"
Rukia's eyes widened. "How do you know about that?"
"Chad told me," Ichigo stated. "You've been worrying everybody, you know. Don't you remember the promise we made in Hueco Mundo?" Ichigo took a step closer to his friend, scowl firmly in place. He paused, waiting for Rukia to meet his steady gaze.
"We're in this together. Until the end," Ichigo proclaimed in a firm tone, his unshaken eyes and stature doing more than his words to convey the depth of his certainty and sincerity. Rukia closed her eyes yet again, crossing her arms demurely.
"Those words have a different meaning for me than they do for you," Rukia replied in a hushed tone. "And that's exactly what has been bothering me."
"Hun?"
"Ichigo," Rukia called out suddenly, more of her usual assertiveness in her voice. "What do you think of Ulquiorra?"
"I don't trust him at all," Ichigo asserted immediately. "I don't care what Urahara says, there's no way that guy's just here 'cause he likes Inoue. We can't really do anything until we talk to Inoue about it, though. But what does that have to do with anything?"
"What if," Rukia started again, her violet eyes combing over Ichigo's face, analysing his every reaction. "They are in love? Would you approve?"
"Well… uh," Ichigo was taken aback by the question. Were they even considering that as a possibility? "I don't know, I seriously can't imagine that guy having actual feelings… I didn't see anything in him that would make me think that he's capable of that kind of thing."
"What if he is capable of feeling, and he's nicer than he seems to be? Would you approve then?" Rukia demanded steadfastly.
"Well, if he turns out to be less of a bastard than he seems to be," Ichigo decided, unsure where this was all going. "And he's the one she wants, than… sure?"
"It doesn't bother you that he's an Arrancar and she's a human," Rukia questioned again, brow steady.
"Well, he's in a gigai, so being an Arrancar doesn't really have much to do with it…"
"But the fact is that, at heart, he is an Arrancar. He doesn't belong here. He's a Hollow and she's a Plus," Rukia pressed, even under Ichigo's confused frown.
"Well, I'm saying that that doesn't really matter, not to me at least. I mean, Grimmjow isn't really that much different than Kenpachi, or, really, anyone from the 11th Division," the redheaded Vizard replied. "Where are you going with this, Rukia?"
"What do you think of me, Ichigo?" Rukia gazed up at Ichigo with eyes full of apprehension. Silence reigned.
"Geez, Rukia, as if you don't know…" Ichigo grumbled, feeling slightly uncomfortable after getting over his initial surprise. It wasn't easy for him to tell a girl that she's probably the most important person in his life without making it sound like some sort of love confession. "You're… a really important friend to me. You're my nakama."
Rukia smiled, a flimsy, fleeting thing. Really, what had she been expecting him to say? Whispering a 'thank you,' the shinigami drifted back to the closet, and slid the door shut behind her without looking back.
Ichigo sat back down on his bed, wondering what in the world had just happened. Maybe it was just because he was tired, but the conversation had made absolutely no sense to him.
Shaking his head, the grumbling Ichigo got beneath his sky blue blankets, deciding he'll think about it the next day.
"Aww, that's so sad!" Orihime murmured sadly into her tissue as she dried her tears. "He didn't have to die!" A sob turned into a yawn.
"I would argue that he did," Ulquiorra challenged monotonously. He found it very odd that, unlike the last time he had heard Orihime cry, he did not feel like his insides were being torn to shreds. "He was an element of that era just as much as the High Chancellor was. He needed to die along with the era that he shaped."
"But…" Orihime tried to get her retort past her tired lips. Her eyelids were becoming heavy, and the tears weren't helping. "It's not fair. And eras…" She was interrupted by a yawn.
"You should sleep." Ulquiorra watched as the already half-asleep redhead leaned against him on the couch, practically snuggling against his side as she stretched out into a more horizontal position.
"Aren't so clear-cut… that…" Orihime drifted off, her words becoming an incoherent muddle. Ulquiorra was content to just watch as the tension in her brow slowly dissolved, and her breathing became deep and regular.
It was already rather late, for a school night at least, but Ulquiorra wasn't tired. He knew that Orihime was undoubtedly trying to convey a message by choosing that particular movie. His mind was alert as he tried to decode the innocent redhead's intentions. After a few minutes, Ulquiorra realized that he wouldn't be falling asleep any time soon.
The slender Arrancar rose from his cosy, although too-warm, seat on the couch, and scooped up both Orihime and the comforter she was wrung up in. Ulquiorra was detecting a pattern; it was the second night in a row that he was tucking her in. The teenager idly wondered who had taken care of Orihime before he had come along.
Ulquiorra gently placed Orihime onto her bed, careful that she be totally comfortable. Even in the darkness of the bedroom, the emerald-eyed Arrancar could have sworn that the angel was alight. No matter where she was, what she was doing, Orihime always shined. Ulquiorra turned to leave the girl to sleep in peace.
"But, what about us, Ulquiorra?" Orihime's small, distant voice reached him, full of sadness. Ulquiorra walked silently back to the sleeping girl's side and looked down at her with eyes clouded with longing.
"We were spectators, Orihime," Ulquiorra whispered, allowing his fingertips to gently graze the curve of the young woman's cheek. "This era belongs to us."
With those soft-spoken words, the Arrancar ghosted slowly out the door, looking back at the doorway to see that Orihime was once again fast asleep.