Urahara Kaito, Orihime knew intimately, was a broken and utterly ruthless man. Whoever he had once been was lost to jagged edges and brittle-glass poise, kindness hidden behind bared teeth and threats that resonated just a little too well.

She had seen the monster beneath his jovial mask, the bloodlust and cunning and knowledge that gleamed fever-bright in his pale eyes. She had watched him ruthlessly carve Chad to pieces, try to carve her to pieces, all in the name of training.

(All in the name of survival.)

Kaito would do it again in a heartbeat. Would smother his kindness and bare his teeth and tear them to shreds in the name of keeping them alive. To him, the ends justified the means.

(What were a few more jagged edges in a man already made of them, after all?)

But she had also seen him smile, warm and loving, at his father. Seen the wistful edge in his eyes at the way she and the others interacted. Felt the way he hovered, just outside their circle, wanting but forever denying himself that final step into their midst.

Kaito was a broken, ruthless man, but he was also a man who was healing, aided by his father and the others in the shoten. And the more he healed, the more he wanted, and the more ruthlessly he denied himself.

(It raised her ire, that he could believe himself so unworthy of them, after everything he had done for them.)

(But she knew he words wouldn't reach him. Not now. Not yet. So she bit her tongue and strove to show him what he meant to them. And then cried in Tatsuki's arms late at night over the looks of wary confusion she got whenever he noticed.)

Orihime had not missed the way his monster was lurking so close to the surface, here in Soul Society where he had been born and from where he had recently fled. She had not missed the way Kurosaki and Ishida were working together, keeping Kaito calm and in the now; she was so proud of them, of the way they worked together, so different from the way they had begun.

They were Kaito's right and left hands, and the only one who didn't seem to notice was Kaito himself.

(And didn't that just say everything necessary about his self-awareness and self-worth. Of how little he considered himself a part of their group.)

(She hated it when Tatsuki was so very, very right.)

So when he approached her as she was healing a few of the regular souls of the Rukongai, Orihime did her best not to tense. How lost within his memories was he, how feral was he? She didn't know what to expect, and she hated that sensation.

"How long will you be?" he asked her.

She turned towards him, sizing him up as best she could; the blank emptiness had once more faded from his mien, and he seemed to be steadier, but he was good enough with his masks that she remained wary.

(He wouldn't attack her, not here, not now, not with his gaze so clear and his hands at ease. But who's to say what would happen if she angered him? If she drew his monster to the surface once more?)

(It wasn't only her life on the line. It was Kaito's too.)

"Not too much longer! I should have him healed up in a few more minutes," Orihime answered with a smile, choosing the path of least resistance and letting Kaito make the call to move on immediately or not.

Kaito hesitated and looked towards the sky, then down towards the group around her, and hope rose in her heart. He was considering them, weighing what he could see against things only he knew.

(Was it too much to hope that he permitted her this?)

"To heal the rest, I mean," Kaito finally corrected her, gaze turning from the Rukongai souls and back to her. "Especially those that need it badly."

"O-oh!" His words startled her, despite her hopes, and she couldn't help the warm, thankful smile, nor the relief that spread through her mind at the permission to continue at least for a while. "Maybe an hour or two?" And hopefully that would be enough time, and that he didn't judge it to be too much time; Kaito wouldn't hesitate to drag them away if he did, wouldn't hesitate to tell her no.

But he simply accepted her words. "Very well. Ishida?"

"I'll stay with her," Ishida replied with a nod.

Orihime kept an ear on their gentle banter as she returned to her task, unable to resist the warmth that bloomed in her chest at their easy camaraderie. Why it was Ishida specifically that Kaito relaxed around, Orihime was unsure, but she wasn't going to question it. Anything to draw him further into their group—

—well, except the sniping they were starting to devolve into. Orihime rolled her eyes, then flicked the nose of the boy she was healing when he giggled at her expression and pressed her finger to her lips. The boy clamped both hands over his mouth, eyes sparkling with laughter, and Orihime composed herself.

"Boys," she admonished Ishida and Kaito, turning to give them a look and her best 'wrangling Tatsuki so she didn't murder Chizuru' smile. "Don't you have something better to do?"

Their confusion had her holding back a giggle by the skin of her teeth, and it was all she could do to maintain her wrangling smile properly. Kaito gave in with a quick, teasing grin at Ishida, and then retreated to leave her alone with Ishida. Once he was out of range, Orihime couldn't resist her laughter any more, and broke into cheerful giggles that the young boy started to echo.

"And that," she told the boy mock-seriously, "is how you keep two headstrong people from devolving into a brawl."

The boy laughed and nodded, and behind her Ishida made a despairing noise that had her giggling once more.

Still, there was something left to be said, and Orihime turned back to Ishida. "Thank you," she told him through her giggles. His confusion should not be amusing—

(Ishida, too, disbelieved his inclusion, despite latching desperately onto it and not letting go, no matter how aloof he tried to pretend to be.)

—but his expression was, and she had to struggle to contain herself so she could explain. "For helping Kaito-kun feel better, and for staying here with me."

Ishida's smile was tiny, a bare, uncomfortable quirk of his lips that she knew was born of his discomfort with being thanked. "You're welcome."

She smiled at him once more — a friendly smile, this time, not a wrangling smile — and turned back to her healing. She had a lot to do, and only a few hours to do it in, after all.

(She wasn't going to squander this chance.)