"So anyway," Orihime said, balancing a spatula in one hand while rearranging the spice rack alphabetically, "did you know that in some cultures, eating spicy food on rainy days is supposed to bring good luck? I think I should make Ichigo spicy tuna muffins next time it rains! Or maybe I could invent a new spicy muffin recipe! Jalapeño chocolate marshmallow cupcakes!"

On the other end of the line, Tatsuki's sigh was loud enough to rattle the phone speaker. "I can't believe that you own a bakery."

Orihime just giggled, brushing a stray piece of hair from her face. "Oh, Tatsuki! I know that not everyone likes what I like, but-" Orihime said as she wandered into Ichigo's home office to tidy up. Her phone was still glued to her ear as she glanced around at the usual chaos—papers, notebooks, and…

"-Muffins," she said aloud, freezing mid-step.

"What?" Tatsuki asked. "What muffins?"

Orihime blinked, staring at the plate of perfect, golden muffins sitting on Ichigo's desk like some kind of smug baked-goods trophy. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she found her voice. "Tatsuki-chan, I was going to bake Ichigo muffins earlier, but when I asked him, he said he didn't feel like any. But... but here are muffins now" she whispered into the phone, as if revealing a scandalous secret.

"Wait, what?" Tatsuki's voice sharpened. "You didn't bake them, did you?"

Orihime shook her head, though Tatsuki couldn't see her. "No, I didn't! But someone else did." Her eyes narrowed as she inspected the muffins like a detective at a crime scene. "They look… delicious."

Ichigo, oblivious to the muffin-related crisis unfolding behind him, glanced up briefly. "Oh, Sakura gave those to me," he said casually before returning to his work. "She said she baked too many and didn't want them to go to waste."

Orihime stared at him. Then at the muffins. Then back at him. "Sakura… from your university?"

"Yeah," Ichigo mumbled, his pen scratching against the paper. He didn't even look up.

Orihime's grip on her phone tightened as she slowly backed out of the office, her smile a little too wide. "Tatsuki, did you hear that? Sakura baked him muffins!"

"Oh, I heard it," Tatsuki said darkly. "And let me tell you, Orihime, that's not just baking. That's targeted baking."

Orihime tilted her head, frowning. "What do you mean? They're just muffins."

"They're never just muffins!" Tatsuki exclaimed. "This is how it starts. First, it's muffins. Next, it's cupcakes with personalized frosting. And before you know it, she's sneaking bento boxes into his lunch bag like she's his wife or something!"

Orihime blinked, sitting down on the couch in the living room. "That's… really specific, Tatsuki."

"Because I've seen it happen!" Tatsuki growled. "Muffins are a gateway snack. You can't trust them—or her."

Orihime laughed nervously, but the knot in her stomach tightened. "Ichigo would never…" she started, but the words felt hollow.

"I'm not saying he would," Tatsuki replied quickly. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't keep an eye on her. Muffin-baking is highly suspicious."

Orihime sighed, glancing at the calendar on the wall. Two weeks until the wedding. Two weeks until she officially became Orihime Kurosaki. And in one week, her bachelorette party—a chaotic event Tatsuki had insisted on planning—was supposed to happen.

"Maybe I'm just being silly," Orihime said softly, more to herself than to Tatsuki.

"You're not silly," Tatsuki said firmly. "You're just… too trusting. Which is why I'm here."

"Thanks, Tatsuki," Orihime said, smiling faintly. "I'll talk to you later."

After hanging up, Orihime leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. Why did she feel so… weird? She trusted Ichigo. She knew he loved her. But those muffins…

Shaking her head, Orihime stood up and forced herself to focus on the boxes still waiting to be unpacked. She wasn't going to let a plate of baked goods ruin her day.

But deep down, she couldn't help but wonder: was she up against something far more dangerous than muffins?

The days leading up to Orihime's bachelorette party were… strange. No matter how hard she tried to shake it off, a niggling suspicion followed her around like a stray puppy.

Every time Ichigo's phone buzzed, she flinched slightly. What if it's Sakura texting him? she thought. Every time Ichigo came home with a packed lunch, she eyed it like it might explode. Did he really buy that, or did she slip him a muffin-flavored bento?

But Orihime didn't say anything. She loved Ichigo. She trusted him. And she told herself, over and over, that this was just her imagination. She wasn't the type of person to get jealous over muffins. That would be ridiculous.

Right?

By the time the day of the bachelorette party arrived, Orihime was more than ready for a distraction. She stood in her bakery, wiping down the counters and humming to herself as she prepared to close up for the evening.

Ichigo was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching her with his usual half-annoyed, half-amused expression. "So, this bachelorette thing… Tatsuki's not planning anything weird, right?"

Orihime blinked innocently. "Weird? Like what?"

"I don't know," Ichigo said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Like… strippers. Or… whatever else happens at these things. Just… don't do anything weird, okay?"

Orihime giggled, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "Don't worry, Ichigo. Tatsuki said it's just a small gathering with snacks and karaoke. Nothing weird!"

Ichigo looked unconvinced but gave a small smirk anyway. "Alright. Have fun."

"I will!" Orihime beamed.

She practically skipped to her old apartment, humming a tune as she thought about her bachelorette party. She'd been looking forward to this night for weeks. When she opened the door, the noise inside hit her like a cheerful bomb.

"There she is! The Muffin Queen herself!" Tatsuki shouted, raising a sake bottle in the air.

Orihime froze mid-step. "Muffin Queen?"

"Oh, we'll get to that," Tatsuki said ominously. "Come in, sit down, and prepare for the roast of your life."

Before Orihime could respond, Chizuru lunged forward and clasped Orihime's hands. "Orihime-chan, you're so radiant tonight! Are you sure you want to marry Ichigo? I mean, you could still elope with me. I'm emotionally prepared to be your wife."

"Chizuru, stop drooling on her," Rukia groaned from her spot on the couch, shifting her heavily pregnant body to get comfortable.

"Ladies, ladies!" Rangiku cut in, dramatically flipping her hair as she lounged on the armrest of the couch. "Save the violence for later. Let's get to the good stuff first."

She turned to Orihime. "So, Mrs. Almost-Kurosaki, if you ever need tips on keeping things spicy, I've got you covered. I've got some moves that'll make him forget how to frown for at least a week."

Chizuru raised her hand. "Can I borrow those moves? Not for Ichigo, obviously. For… research purposes."

"Everyone, shut up!" Tatsuki yelled, banging a bottle of sake on the table like a judge with a gavel. "We're here for something serious tonight. And no, it's not Ichigo's tragic inability to smile."

The room quieted, all eyes on Tatsuki.

"This is about muffins."

There was a beat of silence before Rangiku snorted. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me. Muffins," Tatsuki said grimly. She turned to Orihime. "Tell them what you told me."

Orihime hesitated, wringing her hands. "Oh, um, it's really not a big deal—"

"Tell. Them." Tatsuki demanded.

With a deep breath, Orihime explained the story. How that Sakura girl had baked him muffins and how they'd mysteriously ended up on his desk, looking suspiciously golden and delicious. By the time she finished, the room was dead silent.

Then:

"Oh, hell no," Riruka said, narrowing her eyes. "That's a declaration of war."

"Exactly," Tatsuki said, pointing a finger at Orihime. "I told you it was suspicious!"

"But they're just muffins!" Orihime protested weakly.

Rukia scoffed, leaning back on the couch. "There's no such thing as 'just muffins.' Not when another woman bakes them for your man. That's Muffin Rule #1."

"Muffin Rule #1?" Orihime blinked, confused.

"Yes. Muffins are a gateway pastry," Rangiku said almost the same thing Tatsuki had told her. "First, it's muffins. Next, it's brownies. Before you know it, she's baking him full-on soufflés and asking him to taste her custard. And I don't mean the dessert kind."

Chizuru choked on her sake. "Oh my God, I want to marry Rangiku-san."

"Join the club," Riruka muttered, refilling her glass.

Orihime waved her hands frantically. "N-no! I don't think Sakura meant anything by it! She's really nice and always helpful—"

"Oh, she's helpful, alright," Tatsuki said, rolling her eyes. "Helpful with her oven mitts and ulterior motives."

"Exactly," Rangiku added, smirking. "She's probably sitting in her kitchen right now, perfecting her muffin recipe while whispering, 'Soon, Ichigo will taste my batter.'"

Orihime's face turned a shade of red usually reserved for stop signs. "R-Rangiku-san!"

"I'm just saying," Rangiku said, shrugging. "Women don't bake muffins for just anyone. Muffins are loaded with subtext. And carbs."

"I hate to admit it," Rukia said, shifting uncomfortably, "but Rangiku's not wrong. When I first baked something for Renji, he practically proposed on the spot. Men are idiots when it comes to baked goods."

"So what do we do?" Chizuru asked, practically vibrating with excitement. "Are we planning a counter-muffin attack? Do we sabotage her oven? Ooh, can I disguise myself as a muffin inspector?"

Tatsuki grinned. "No, we keep it simple. First, we drink. Then, we plot. And then…" She trailed off dramatically, raising her sake bottle. "We destroy her."

The group erupted into cheers, clinking their glasses as they laughed and poured more sake. Orihime, caught somewhere between amusement and mild panic, tried to protest but was quickly swept up in the chaos.

By the time the first karaoke song started, the sake was flowing, the laughter was booming, and Orihime had officially gone off the deep end.

Her face was flushed as she stood in the middle of the room, waving a half-empty bottle of sake in the air like a victory flag. "No one," she slurred, pointing at no one in particular, "can touch my Ichigo!"

"Whoo!" Tatsuki cheered, slapping the table so hard a plate of wasabi chips nearly went flying.

"Preach it, bride!" Rangiku yelled, holding her glass high and nearly spilling its contents.

"I mean, muffins?" Orihime said, her voice rising an octave. "Muffins? Who does she think she is, with her… her perfectly golden tops and fluffy insides?"

"Yeah, screw those tops!" Riruka shouted, though it wasn't clear if she was talking about muffins or something else entirely.

"And screw her fluffy insides!" Rangiku added, winking.

The group burst into raucous laughter, clinking their glasses together as Orihime dramatically threw herself onto the couch next to Rukia, who was sitting with a plate of pickles balanced on her belly.

"Listen, ladies," Rukia said, her voice slow and deliberate, the way people talk when they've had way too much to drink but still want to sound profound. "You know what you need? Soul Society law."

"Law?" Tatsuki squinted at her, tilting her head like a confused puppy. "What law?"

Rukia waved a hand vaguely. "There's this paper… thing. You write stuff on it, and then it becomes official. Like, 'Renji isn't allowed to eat cake,' and bam! He can't eat cake. We can use it against Muffin Bitch Sakura."

Orihime gasped, clutching Rukia's arm. "You mean… we can make it a law that Ichigo can't eat muffins from anyone except me?"

Rukia nodded sagely, or at least as sagely as someone who was hiccuping between words could manage. "Exactly."

"That's genius!" Tatsuki shouted, pounding the table.

"Let's do it!" Rangiku declared, stumbling to her feet. "To the Soul Society!"

How they got from "let's do it" to "let's open a Senkaimon while drunk" was anyone's guess, but a short while later, Rangiku was standing in front of a swirling portal, poking at it with her sword like it was a particularly confusing puzzle.

"Are you sure this is how it works?" Chizuru asked, squinting at the portal.

"Absolutely," Rangiku said, though the fact that she was holding her sword upside down didn't inspire much confidence. "I've done this a million times."

"Wait," Rukia interjected, looking vaguely alarmed despite her flushed cheeks. "Humans can't pass through a Senkaimon without a proper—"

"Details, details!" Rangiku interrupted, flailing her arms. "We're doing this! To protect Orihime's love from Muffin Bitch Sakura!"

Tatsuki raised her glass. "To love! And to laws that stop muffins!"

"Let's gooooo!" Orihime shouted, clutching her sake bottle like a trophy as they all stumbled into the portal without a second thought.

The journey was a blur of swirling lights and drunken giggles, and before anyone could process what was happening, they found themselves stumbling out onto soft, white sand.

"Uh…" Tatsuki blinked, looking around. "Why is it so sandy?"

"And dark?" Orihime added, clutching her bottle of sake like it was a lifeline.

"Welcome to the Soul Society!" Rangiku announced dramatically, throwing her arms out.

"No, no, no," Rukia said, rubbing her temple. "This isn't the Soul Society. This is… Hueco Mundo."

There was a long pause as everyone processed it.

"How did we even end up here?" Tatsuki asked, turning to Rangiku, who was swaying dangerously close to falling over.

Rangiku shrugged. "I don't know. I was aiming for Soul Society. Maybe the Senkaimon was drunk too."

"We're all going to die," Chizuru muttered, collapsing dramatically onto the sand. "But if I die here, at least I'm surrounded by beautiful women."

But Orihime, instead of panicking, seemed… nostalgic. She turned in a slow circle, smiling softly. "You know… I kind of missed it here."

"Missed it?!" Tatsuki exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "Missed the land of sand and monsters that try to eat your soul?!"

Orihime nodded enthusiastically, her face alight with drunken joy. "Yes! It's so peaceful at night. And… and I really miss Nel-chan! And Halibel-sama! Maybe we should find them!"

"Find them?!" Riruka echoed, staring at Orihime like she'd grown a second head. "Orihime, are you serious?!"

"Yes!" Orihime declared, cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting into the vast, empty desert. "Neeeel-chaaan! Halibel-samaaa!"

The others stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded. Then Rangiku shrugged and joined in, raising her voice with a grin. "Neeeellll! Haaaalibeelllll! Where are you, girls?!"

"Are you all insane?!" Rukia hissed, looking around nervously. "Do you have any idea what could hear you out here?! This is literally Hollow central!"

"Ichigooooo!" Tatsuki suddenly bellowed, raising her arms dramatically.

"We're not calling for Ichigo!" Rukia snapped, glaring at her.

"Why not?" Tatsuki slurred. "He's good at punching stuff! And he's Orihime's man, right? Right!" She threw an arm around Orihime's shoulders, nearly toppling them both over. "Tell 'em, Orihime! He's your man!"

"Yes!" Orihime shouted, her cheeks pink with a mix of alcohol and determination. "He's mine! And no one—especially not Muffin Bitch Sakura—can take him away from me!"

"Woooo!" Rangiku cheered, twirling in the sand and spilling half her sake. "That's the spirit!"

And somewhere in the distance, a low, guttural roar echoed through the desert, but none of them seemed to notice. They were too busy laughing, shouting, and stumbling through the sand in their impromptu search for Nel and Halibel.