A/N: Happy Independence day everyone~! This would indeed be the fifth installment of Oblivion, and I want to thank everyone for reading! For anyone who was worrying about it, (I've gotten a lot of questions about this for some reason) I will most certainly NOT be discontinuing this story! It will be written in full, most likely having the final chapter posted on the 1st of August.

I hope everyone enjoys the chapter… I foresee trouble for Ulquiorra and Orihime in coming chapters…. Muahahahahahah!

Old Friends?

Tatsuki sat on the top step of her front porch, worried out of her mind for Orihime. At some ungodly hour of the morning she had randomly run from the house chasing a strange melody that had flowed from the darkened forest…it was now past midday, and if Chizuru was right, and there was a ghost or a demon haunting the woods, there was little chance of the brunette getting her friend back in one piece. The martial girl shook her head, ridding herself of such thoughts. She didn't really believe in such things… not really… and if they did exist, the patron deity of their village would get rid of it, right?

A flash of golden orange caught Tatsuki's eye at the edge of the woods some distance from where she herself sat. Jumping to her feet, the girl looked closer.

There was Orihime, holding onto a pale hand and being guided to the edge of the trees and onto the path. The hand belonged to the figure of a man, but all that Tatsuki could see of him from the distance she was, and from his standpoint in a pool of deep shadows, was that he had loose, shaggy dark hair. His face was hidden from her by that curtain of black locks as he said something to Orihime. The red head grinned widely and shook her head, tightening her hand on his momentarily before letting go. She said something else, his shoulders rinsing and falling in a sigh that seemed both slightly sorrowful and mildly annoyed before he replied and turned away, vanishing into the trees with almost terrifying ease.

Tatsuki ran down the steps, sandals flopping against her heels as she hurried to her friend. Orihime faced her at the sound, looking mildly confused. She was in perfect health, not like the last time she had disappeared; the only thing that could be said was wrong with her was her dirty feet. She hadn't even gotten any tears in her kimono, which most people with sight failed to accomplish when in the forest, which was a veritable tangle of brambles in some places.

"Tatsuki?" the blind girl guessed, reaching out with shy fingers. The dark haired girl gripped her fingers tightly in response.

"Where have you been?" the girl berated her friend, relief washing through her, "I thought I told you not to wander off last time you got lost!"

"I wasn't lost this time!" Orihime shot back with unexpected ferocity, stomping her foot in an unwonted display of frustration, "I knew exactly where I was going and who I was going to! I'm allowed to go visit who I want, aren't I?"

"Alright, alright…." Tatsuki soothed. Orihime didn't bring up the man in the trees, so Tatsuki didn't ask, wanting to avoid upsetting her friend further. The red head pouted in the opposite direction for several minutes on the way back to the brunette's home, remaining silent the whole way there. Finally she huffed loudly and linked arms with Tatsuki.

"I can't stay mad at you…" she grumbled, still looking the other way with furrowed eyebrows. She suddenly looked shocked and pulled her eyebrows up forcefully with the tips of her fingers and held them there for a moment.

"Why did you do that?" Tatsuki asked, utterly perplexed.

"I don't want my eyebrows like his! I like my eyebrows the way they are!"

"Who are you talking about?"

"The… the guy! Argh! Why won't he tell me his name?" Tatsuki jumped at Orihime's sudden outburst; the girl was very worked up today, she noticed.

"You mean that pale guy who was with you before?" she wondered as the pair went up the steps to the house.

"Just now? Yes. He's pale?" without waiting for an answer, she continued, "I talked to him for a long time… about how much I love this place, and all the people. I don't think he understood very well though…" Orihime said disappointedly shaking her head.

"Why not?"

"Well, I asked him, and he said that he has no one. When I told him that it was sad for him to be alone, he didn't know why that would upset me. He doesn't seem to get along with people very well, although I find him agreeable, if a little too honest and straightforward." The red head sighed, stepping through the door that Tatsuki had opened for her and finding her way to the table before sitting down. Tatsuki did the same, seating herself across from her companion as the other girl unwrapped the cloth from her head.

"Wait, I'm confused; what do you mean he has no one?"

"He doesn't have any parents, or siblings, or friends, he said. He lives by himself in the forest, away from the village, and…" she halted for a second, and took a breath, "when I felt his face, I found scars. He has a sad type of face, without laugh lines. Oh, and eyebrows like this."

Orihime demonstrated by putting her pointer fingers low over her piercing gray eyes, setting her mouth in a grim line and allowing her lids to droop so that her face gained the sullen, worn appearance of a person who has been trampled by humanity and fought their way to the top only to stand alone and realize that nothing awaits them.

"His scars went like this…" she continued, tracing her fingers down her cheeks, almost like tear tracks.

"You're sure that they were scars?"

"I'm positive! They must have been deep, because the skin was a little bit raised."

Tatsuki fell silent, thinking upon the colorless man she had seen, and how interested Orihime was in him. The brunette figured that if at all possible, she should have a chat with the mystery man, and find out if he was worthy of her best friend.

Because if he wasn't, she'd kick his ass.

…..

"Hey, kid, what do you mean our order isn't finished?"

The shout attracted the attention of people outside of the shop for about three buildings down, from Ichigo's perspective at least. He ground a fist into one hip to stop from shooting something back at his customer that would more than likely harm business.

He glared up at his patrons, who were even stranger than he, as far as hair and eye color.

The first, closest to the door, was a man who seemed to be from the continent. He was tall, head brushing the top of the doorframe, and skeletally thin, with stringy black hair, and an eye patch. The visible eye was slanted sharply, its glare dangerous, made even more so by the wide grin of insanity that was painted on the man's face. He was dressed in a white top that buttoned up to his throat, with dark pants that cinched around the top of his calves. His forearms and lower legs were bound tightly in strips of cloth. He was the least odd of the trio, much to Ichigo's despair.

The second was a woman with a bust to rival Orihime's. In fact, the two women seemed very similar, but for the newcomer's height, and hair that was colored almost identical to tea leaves, a dull, woodsy green. She also had a strange pink mark that was almost scar-like across her cheeks and nose, and what was undeniably a scar gouging across her forehead. The magenta marking reminded Ichigo of the black streaks down Ulquiorra's face, and for an instant he wondered if the markings were tattoos before turning his attention back to the woman herself. She wore a shockingly scant kimono that was hardly more than a kosode, showing much cleavage and covering only half way down her thigh. Her green eyes were wide and innocent as she hid behind the third person, the one who was shouting at Ichigo.

The third was another male with broad shoulders and rippling muscles that Chad might have been envious of by the way that they seemed to contain a sort of catlike grace and strength rather than just straight brawn. His hair was a wild shade of unnatural blue, as were his eyes. His gaze was narrowed in anger as his lip pulled up in a snarl, showing oddly sharp teeth. His eyes were highlighted by cobalt markings on his lids. His dark navy colored shirt was worn open, gray pants bound by a sash at his waist. He seemed to be the one in charge, or at least the only one who was really willing to put up a fight for the blades that Ichigo had yet to finish.

"Like I said, I've been working on a blade for a local!" the blacksmith reiterated, an edge creeping into his voice.

"We placed our order first!" the blue haired man snarled, taking a step forward. Ichigo simply raised his gaze and crossed his arm, not budging.

"I didn't expect the sword I'm repairing to take so long; I apologize. I completed the repairs to the other order yesterday, so there is a chance I can finish your order in half a week. There is only one blade that I haven't completed. If you're willing to come back for it, you can take the other two swords now."

"Come back for it?" the larger man growled, "Che! We're in a hurry brat, we don't have time to-"

"Grimmjow," the tall man by the door spoke softly enough, but the man who was addressed halted his speech. Grimmjow, Ichigo guess by his reaction, looked back at the human skeleton. The lanky man jerked his chin in the direction of a wall behind Ichigo. All four of them looked where he pointed, and their eyes alighted on a blade hanging in the rack.

"That can't be…" the woman murmured, cocking her head.

"Murcielago?" Grimmjow's voice was harsh with surprise, "That's not possible!" his gaze whipped back to Ichigo and he lunged, gripping the front of the smith's leather frock with one fist. "Where'd you get that?" he snapped.

There was a slight scuff by the entrance as a man, head bowed low, walked straight past the man by the door, past the woman, ignored the one called Grimmjow, and addressed Ichigo.

"Smith, is my blade repaired?" he asked, "And six, put him down. I find it annoying that your idiocy hasn't changed in the time I spent, gratefully, away from you."

"Ulquiorra-san!" the woman shrieked joyfully, jumping up and down with glee, "We thought you'd died! Oh how good to know that you managed to find someplace to live!"

"Well?" Ulquiorra asked, staring sullenly at Ichigo.

"Oh, uh, yeah, hold on," the blade maker turned and grabbed the sword off the wall, severely disconcerted by the acquaintance between the four other people in his shop. It didn't seem to be a very good relationship, at that. He handed the sheathed blade to the shortest and palest man in the room and waited for him to draw the weapon and inspect it.

"Acceptable work," he said. He strapped the blade to his hip and handed Ichigo the proper amount of money before stalking back toward the exit. The man at the door bowed mockingly to Ulquiorra, smile widening. The shorter man nodded in return, and just before he left, he called over his shoulder.

"Three, five, six, if you are at an utter lack of places to stay the night, my home is open to you if only for the fact that your deaths would be troublesome. You know where to find me." With that, he disappeared into the crowds.

The three looked at each other, the tall man shrugging at the other two before slipping out.

"Wait! Nnoitra-kun!" the woman cried after him, "Ooh, Grimmjow! How will we find him?"

"Shouldn't be hard, that guy's a freak. Grab the swords and pay the kid, Nel."

The woman danced up to Ichigo, breasts jiggling. The boy blushed furiously as the kosode pulled open a bit further. Thrusting the sheathed swords at the one called Nel, he averted his gaze, knowing that if he were caught looking at another woman, he would be decapitated by Rukia, Byakuya, and Renji to boot.

He accepted his payment and sighed with relief as the last of the strange group left his shop.

"What a bunch of weirdos," he muttered, turning back to his forge. He had better things to do that think upon a demon and his companions.