AN: In case you missed it, I published a chapter before this one, titled "Chapter 09: Argentinian Specials", replacing an earlier AN chapter announcement. (The said AN has been moved to silverquord . deviantart . com, for those who are interested ) The mentioned chapter may not have properly alerted people who were following this story. If you don't know what an "Argentinian Special" is, then I'm sure you haven't read the chapter yet. If so, then read the previous chapter first before reading this one.

Thank you for all the people who have taken their time and left their honest reviews. Hats off also for the helpful corrections/elaboration of language etc. Appreciate it! :)

For this chapter: This is a drastic change from my regular approach and in hindsight, could come across as out of place for some of you. But despite this, it remains one of my favorites to-date, strange as it may seem. Even stranger since I've decided it was painful for me to write this. Take a look and see if you will agree with me. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters are owned by Tite Kubo. All other entities and intellectual properties mentioned herein are proprietary to their respective owners. Otherwise, the idea of this story belongs to the author - me.

Shades Of Gray

Chapter 10: U Is For

"The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong."

-Mahatma Ghandi, Indian Philosopher, Advocate of Nonviolent Protest

Awkward.

That was the perfect word to describe Ishida Uryuu's situation at this very moment.

Right after they've dropped off Grimmjow to his flat, and making sure Orihime's blue haired colleague managed to stumble into the right door, it happened. That all too familiar moment when one is suddenly loss for words, and silence creeps up; the beginnings of an uncomfortable, uneasy moment when you weren't sure how to be polite to someone, and everything felt alien, and unfamiliar. Uryuu had closely followed Orihime from behind, hoping for her to speak out and initiate some conversation, but was surprised that she continued to keep her silence. Stepping into the lift of the high class serviced apartment, only the elevator music hummed as they stood apart, waiting for the lift and its barely audible machination drones to finally arrive at the ground floor.

It followed them, and wordlessly, the only thing Uryuu could do was to match Orihime's slow pace as she walked out of the building and towards his car. Almost as if mimicking action per action, their car doors simultaneously closed with a loud, eerie thump.

And then there was silence, and darkness.

There was only one singular thought that crossed his mind as he sat woodenly at his side of the driver's seat, taking a quick glance at the only remaining passenger for his car tonight:

What now?

The unease spread over him as he tried to shake off the feeling. Between the both of them, it was always his auburn haired passenger, Orihime, who carried the conversation. Uryuu could go on, for hours, discussing a medical dissertation with his peers, or an intelligent debate on the political state of the country and its weakening economy, with an absolute stranger, but to ask him to make small chit-chat was something he could not pull from the depths of his being. Bad enough he was in an unfamiliar situation, even worse, now he was faced with a quiet, silent Orihime seated beside him. He glanced at her solitary figure.

Despite his personal problems earlier in the evening, before he arrived at Benihime, his current situation now with her seemed, by far, a larger one.

Orihime was quiet. He didn't understand why, and wondered ... if the current situation they were in, was wrong. It was not usual for her, without her bubbly giggles and strange conversations, and he wanted to break the silence - anything, just to get things moving into a direction. Any direction. The silence was awkward.

That sentence in itself was strange, since silence was Uryuu's best friend. It didn't take a lot of effort to gravitate towards this state; the gang usually went out together, and even during the times spent studying back in Todai, that loudmouthed Ichigo was usually somewhere in the vicinity to make a ruckus. It was then easy for him to take the sidelines and disappear into the quiet, unassuming background.

And now, that same silence betrayed him. He was alone with Orihime in an enclosed, dark space - to his sudden realization, a first, despite their long friendship - and was quickly realizing he was not used to, or all that comfortable with.

He edged nervously in his seat.

There was no background to fall back to; he was foreground. He desperately searched for a thought as he cleared his throat once to cut the growing silence, but it was all in vain. The awkward, traitorous silence was sucking up ideas in his head and throttling all manner of conversational trivias directly straight into an abysmal black hole. But in the mere moments that passed afterwards, fortunately he quickly caught a lingering thought before it disappeared into oblivion.

"So... Inoue-san... " He quickly glanced at her unmoving silhouette, "what do you feel like right now?" He paused, waiting for her response. Sensing no answer forthcoming, he slowly added, "Dessert, you said... Would you like to head back to Urahara's?"

There was a pause in the air. But after a short moment, he was relieved to finally be delivered with a response.

"I don't feel like crowds after tonight," he heard her soft reply. The scene before him had an appearance of someone being encumbered by the hollowness of silence and darkness. But was she? He saw Orihime quietly fingering the leather upholstery of Uryuu's car, an appearance of how one would look when trying to figure out where one actually was, looking uncomfortable, but trying to be natural. His lips slowly thinned.

But despite these thoughts, he heard her as she quietly added, "One crowd was already enough, don't you think?..."

"... Anywhere is fine."

Uryuu looked at Orihime, her face away from him, staring out of the window. His eyes tightened. Well, if the night was going to be like this, he might as well make sure she enjoyed what she was going to have for dessert, even if present company - him - wasn't going to be spectacular. He was many things other people were not, but while that gave him an edge on certain things, what he wasn't, is proving to be a serious disadvantage now. He wasn't like the others. They were comfortable in idle banter, and even that fool Ichigo could magically make conversation out of thin air. He, on the other hand, could never carry a conversation even if his life depended on it.

He bitterly sighed. All these years with Orihime, and one would've thought he could have at least prepared something in his usual repertoire of organized filing cabinet of "engaging topics" to carry a conversation with her. He was probably the longest friend she's had, next to Tatsuki. That was also probably the only reason why she was here in his car right now.

On the other hand, she was his longest friend, ever. As if that counted for something. His grip on the wheel tightened a bit.

Yes, he was a friend, but he wasn't oblivious to things around him. He wasn't brash. He wasn't loud mouthed. He wasn't orange haired, and his name definitely wasn't Kurosaki Ichigo.

He steadied himself. No. No. This wasn't the time, or place. He must've been more tired than he realized, to have a stupid thought like that cross his mind now. He hasn't had the best of weeks, and exhaustion was creeping up to him.

Regardless of what he thought just now... he is still her friend. He knew Orihime, and that counted for something.

"No crowds, and dessert," he voiced slowly.

Yes. She would like going there, he was sure. "I know just the place."

He took the wheel to a destination he had in mind. Now with something to occupy him, he backed his car up from Las Noches driveway. He turned the car right and slipped into the main road, concentrating on getting to their destination.

Orihime was tired - the day had been a long one, and her mind, still recovering from a bout with a large piece of steak, was slowly trying to fill itself back in with the events of the day. She was emotionally and physically tired, but after the quick discussion with Uryuu a few moments ago, his strangely tense voice, she suddenly realized her friend was trying to get her to respond. Pay attention Orihime, she told herself. She closed her eyes to find a semblance of orientation, chiding herself for her insensitivity, and finally, turned to look back at the man in the driver's seat.

Tailored black suit, crisp white long sleeves underneath. Unbuttoned at the top, Uryuu's hair was slicked back more than usual. Add a tie and he would have been right for a formal social function. She quickly snuck a glance at the backseat, and saw the shape of what looked like the shadow of a tie thrown carelessly in haste. She wondered where he had been before coming over to meet them... and in this case, her. Everyone would've made fun at him if he showed up the way he was dressed now. The Ishida she knew would've changed before coming over to meet them. He didn't like to include his other affairs with them, she knew. He must've been more out of it than usual to have slipped on this fact. Her brows quickly knotted in thought.

Automatically, her eyes travelled to his face. Tense, and tired. Then it all made sense. Seeing a worn out looking Ishida was strangely different, and Orihime was sure she didn't like what she was seeing, Uryuu looking the way he did. He seemed almost… weary.

But she knew it wasn't the right time to ask. Ishida never felt comfortable openly speaking about his problems. Orihime picked something about herself instead.

"I'm sorry, Ishida-kun... it's just that my head is still slightly spinning," she answered honestly, looking over at him and at the same time, laughing softly at herself. While she adjusted herself, trying to settle into the stiff seat of an unfamiliar car, she added, "Maybe you're right, I shouldn't have taken up Argentinian Specials tonight," she offered an apologetic smile she hoped he could see.

She noticed his shoulders slightly relax. Was he really so wound up? I should've noticed earlier.

Uryuu's thoughts, on the other hand, went off in another direction, but a positive one this time. All thoughts of tonight's uncertainties quickly vanished as he heard her explanation. He inwardly breathed a sigh of relief for the silence that was broken. In his relief, he uttered the first thing that came to mind.

"After that entertainment over at Urahara's, I fully agree,... Princess," he joked... and stopped in aghast.

... Did he just say that? He groaned at himself and cringed. That sounded.. stiff. That was certainly an outstanding piece of conversational material.

He heard her giggle. "Ishida-kun, please stop. You sound strange and funny. You're not gruff enough to pull it off like Grimmjow."

He had to admit he was curious about her blue-haired colleague. She bantered to him as if he was one of the gang. Despite the fact that he had the look of an absolute delinquent, towering and threatening, and if he was entirely being honest, was probably as well developed as Kurosaki, she treated him … well, like one of them. It was uncanny. It was odd to see her with Grimmjow slung across her shoulders for support. She shouldn't look like she belonged even anywhere near the vicinity of the blue-haired man, but in all honesty, she did.

"So… 'Grimmjow'? Is he one of your colleagues over at Arrancar?"

"Yes! he's one of them! How'd you like him Ishida-kun?" Uryuu could hear the excitement behind the voice. Like a person who was proud about her friend. She was actually proud! What in the world would give her the idea that any of Arracar's employees were even worth of pride?

Curious, but cautious at the same time, he decided to be factual. "Well, there wasn't much to like, by the time I arrived, he was already lying down on the table."

Another giggle. Each time her responses made him a bit more curious. He continued to split an even amount of attention to her while he made sure he still kept his eye on the road, not wanting to miss anything, or get them into an accident.

"Oh well, yes, I guess. That really wasn't the plan. I was supposed to meet him, and I heard from Yoruichi you've been coming over there, so I thought maybe you'd have time to catch up, and maybe meet some of the 'goons' you thought it was working with at Arrancar."

Snickering evil grin? Towering Neanderthal? A potty mouth? Of course he was not a goon… NOT.

"He still looked like a goon, Inoue-san."

"Oh he's not that bad. I mean, I didn't expect him to come around with a bandage wrapped all over his head," she said brightly.

"Yes, you were muttering something about people hitting each other. That doesn't sound very safe to me."

She feigned a pout, but could still see her eyes gleaming with excitement. "They're decent around me!"

He paused. Was this normally how she talked about him, Tatsuki, Renji and all the others, with her other friends? But ... they're normal. Arrancar was not normal. He suddenly decided to be cautious about his response. "Well, it won't be long before they're fighting with each other around you. It's not safe," he pointed.

There was a few seconds of silence. He thought he may have made a mistake of being too honest about his comment, and sounded as if chiding her, but before he could retract his words, Ishida was cut off with a deflated sigh from the woman next to him.

"You sound just like Ulquiorra-san," came a mournful reply.

He stopped. He wasn't sure if that was a good, or a bad thing. The long pause before her response wasn't typically Orihime; Nothing curbed her enthusiasm once started. Her quick manner change made him suddenly more curious with the new name that gave Orihime a pause.

"Ulquiorra, Ulquiorra.. ah, now I remember," he added, deciding to get to the bottom of things. "Wasn't he the one you mentioned who got into the fight and started it all?"

"He was stopping them from fighting… he just did it the wrong way, that's all, I suppose," he heard her quietly laugh, oddly, as if there was some private joke involved. "He's a bit temperamental," she explained patiently.

He wasn't convinced. Nothing usually stopped her. "So having a person hit the other two helps the situation?"

"Well, it stopped them from fighting, didn't it?" Orihime chirped. He glanced at her, unsure of her thoughts. Her last comment sounded forced, but she looked like she just believed what she said.

The conversation wasn't going the way he was intending, especially not when she seemed to be defending the one who caused the situation in the first place.

He cleared his throat. This was familiar ground, but a ground that he knew he didn't feel entirely comfortable with. He often tiptoed around her when she insisted on the innocence of others. He always kept quiet, and was glaringly aware of what she was getting herself into. Her understanding, her excuses for others was not something he was patient with, but rarely did he show his opinions. He left that to Kurosaki. Surprisingly, despite their animosity towards each other, both of them felt the same way and protective about her. It was well and good that Ichigo was more vocal about his opinions; that meant he didn't usually have to voice out his.

But it was different now, like so many things tonight. Foreground. It was only him and he had to actively deal with it...

... But not now. Not yet. He had to deal with so many things tonight, and now wasn't the right time for change. Uneasy about the topic of conversation, he tried to switch the subject, instead. "I didn't realize the others weren't around when you invited me."

"Oh yes, I tried to tell you, but you hung up on me," he saw her nod beside him.

"You never asked me out before," he murmured softly to himself.

"Well, it wasn't really out, I was going to get you to meet Grimmjow-kun, but he started drinking, and then Urahara suggested taking on the specials. It wasn't kind of what I was expecting," she answered honestly, not realizing his last comment was not meant for her, nor catching on what he was trying to say.

Silence.

Unperturbed, she continued on. "I don't think I've ever ridden this car with you before, Ishida-kun."

Ishida uncomfortably cleared his throat.

"I had to take care of some of my father's business earlier in the evening and drive it somewhere."

"I didn't interrupt you, did I?"

"No, it's fine. I was on my way out, actually."

"It's kind of flashy, isn't it?"

He glanced at her and gave a small smile. "I suppose you can say that. It's not entirely the car of my choice, though."

She looked about. "Oh, don't say that. It's quite spacious," she jumped about her seat, wriggling herself as if trying to get into a comfortable position, "It's a bit stiff, but I think I could probably sleep here comfortably! ...uhm, I kind of roll around a lot in my bed."

Ishida chuckled. "Well, let me know if you are in need of accommodation, I can lend you the passenger seat for a few days."

"Do you think the leather will soften in time? It's a new car, is it?"

"Yes, it's a new one, Inoue-san."

She crinkled her nose. "Figures. It smells like a new car." She thought for a while. "I think I prefer your old one better. It was nice and cozy, even though it didn't have this much leg room," she declared.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, your highness, I don't think the old one will be coming out in the future."

"You're intentionally doing it again, Ishida-kun. I told you it doesn't suit you! Saying "Your highness"!" she chided in humor, before she immediately quieted down again, and took again a succinctly half serious tone, resolved in finding out why her friend looked so worn. "So you're saying this is your car now?"

"In a manner of speaking…" he trailed off.

"Do you like it?" she pushed, still smiling.

"It's actually not a matter of what I do, or do not like…" he answered in what seemed suspiciously in bitterness.

"Oh, … "

"... I see," she answered.

He paused at her response, and glanced from the wheel and eyed her quietly. "Do you?"

Uryuu saw her nod. "I think so…. But well, we just have to accept and make the most of what's handed to us, right? Right?" she urged on.

He closed and blinked his eyes slowly. Oh, Orihime. Always trying to see the brighter side of things.

"Most likely," he replied in a non-committal way, and shrugged.

Orihime stopped. The reply didn't fool her. Ishida was quiet most of the time, but she could always tell the difference when he was not comfortable with discussing something. It was his eyes. His eyes would slightly shrink, the edges almost tensing up when he was about to say a less than truthful comment. As if... he didn't entertain the thought of voicing out the truth, but didn't deem it appropriate to keep quiet and ruin the conversation. Add the obvious sarcasm with the snide remarks during his banters with Ichigo that she always saw with him, it was clear that he was unhappy about something out of his control right now. On occasions, she would also notice the same mix of expression, albeit in a much lesser degree, when he was posed with a question that he was not at liberty to say his mind, especially when he was in conflict with them.

It wasn't because she paid attention to Uryuu in minute details, but after years of knowing each other, she was sensitive in catching on slight nuances of her friends. She was a friend, after all. What use would it be if she only noticed the obvious signs?

"Think of it this way, you could pick up nice pretty girls with it?"

Ishida gave a quiet chuckle. "Is that how you think of me?"

"No, not really, but I'm just trying to make you feel better about it," she smiled, "Ishida-kun is far more chivalrous and gentlemanly than to be picking up girls in the streets," she pointed out, "and besides, you have standards higher than all the height of Tokyo Tower. I'm sure not just any girl would do."

"Well it's nice to know Inoue-san thinks so highly of me," he chuckled. "You may have to tone down the compliments a bit, I don't want to get a big head getting compliments from pretty girls saving steak ridden guys that I've just picked off the streets."

"Hey! No fair! I'm not just any girl! Take that back!" she threw a crumpled clump of tissue at her friend.

"Back down, Inoue-san. I concede."

Orihime smiled. She liked it when she got a chance to spend time with Ishida Uryuu personally… he was typically quiet and contemplative with others, but for some strange reason, she found it easier to talk to him when chance did bring just the two of them together. He was a solemn, private man by nature, and sometimes she thought, cautious to a fault, almost as if he was in a separate world from the rest of them. Responsibility weighed on him like a blanket. And having met his father a few times, she thought she understood a little of it - both men were almost carved from the same mold: strict, disciplined, having a strong sense of responsibility. Even down to the way he dressed on a daily basis – there was an orderly, proper sense of practicality and taste. Typically brash with his own gender, yet he treated women with a sense of respect, honor and a strange sensibility and sensitivity – she liked that about him. Despite the fact that her imagination and habit slid to the fantastical side, he still listened. He was, in many ways, a perfect gentleman. She could be her silly self and he would still treat her like a lady. She liked that a lot.

She heard him clear his throat again.

"Alright right, we're here." He drove into a non-descript parking lot. She looked curiously around, recognizing that they were not anywhere near the bright, flashy neon lights of the Karakura shopping district anymore. It was dark and quiet outside, and the only lights around were from a small, dark timber constructed structure across from where they parked.

Then she noticed the red, green and white motif, and recognized it immediately.

"Gaucho's?" she looked at him excited.

"I figured you wanted some gelato ice cream and cheesecake, Inoue-san."

"That's wonderful, Ishida-kun!" Without warning, Uryuu found himself being wrestled like a broken doll as she gave him an excited bear hug. Neither was it demure nor gentle, but what mattered to him was her enthusiasm.

Apparently, she wasn't off the fat high. Oh gods, and here he was, bringing her to an Italian ice cream parlour. Sugar high. He could feel himself blushing slightly. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. He tried to regain his composure and outwardly brought back his usual demeanor… in contradiction to the turmoil that was building up inside him.

He felt her still jumping up and down and attempting to squeeze the life out of his neck in sheer glee. He feinted a cough and turned to her.

"All right, hop off, Inoue-san. Since you've already had your dream dinner, we might as well make sure you cap it off with an appropriate dream dessert."

"Very funny, Ishida-kun. I like this place."

"I know," he replied firmly, but somewhere at the back of that reply, also softly. Of course he knew she did.

It was a universal fact that if Orihime disappeared in a busy street in the middle of a crowd, the first likely places to check where the ice cream shops, doughnut stands or cheesecake establishments within the vicinity. They were Orihime magnets. The highest attraction factor being the ice cream parlours, where four out of five chances, you would find her in, attempting to decide the best flavor for the day. Gaucho's was one of the finer ice cream establishments in Karakura – they have authentically made gelato, with a slight Japanese assimilation on it, having a few selections of slightly less than conventional flavors. It was certainly far from crowds, which in hindsight, he reminded himself, were good for quiet but comfortable dates. Just like she wanted, he repeated to himself. Quiet and away from the crowds. NOT a date.

He looked at the bubbly woman beside him, and continued to push aside the idea of what was edging in his thoughts right after they dropped her friend off at his place, leaving the both of them in a car that he already acknowledged he was uncomfortable with: that tonight was definitely NOT a date. They had, after all, once as a whole gang, crashed into the place when he took them there, and while the ladies were all appreciative and satisfied, Kurosaki and Abarai made a small nuisance of themselves during one of their bantering sessions. Needless to say, he did not offer to bring the whole boatload of friends to the establishment anymore. He knew the owner, and it was one of the more embarrassing experiences he had outside their rowdy circle of friends. On two more occasions, he had brought Orihime and Tatsuki back here, merely to appease the former, for her ice cream cravings. The said girl was blissfully taking large scoops from a dish that reserved for a serving for two people, while a short-haired Tatsuki laughed at her friend's absolute lack of grace.

Uryuu tried to convince himself, minus her puking blue haired colleague tonight, this was pretty much the same thing.

This was, of course, denial to the infinite degree.

"What are you having?" she turned to him, asking.

"I think I'll just have coffee, if you don't mind. Sweet isn't really for me."

"But what's the point of coming here when you're not having any?" Orihime pouted.

"They equally have good coffee here, Inoue-san," he pointed out. "So its not much of a lost cause."

"Oh, alright."

"How about we go up to the counter look at their selection?"

"Really? Lets go!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him on to the counter. And during that time, he tried to remind himself despairingly: Uryuu, this is not a date.

This was not a date. It was madness.

He continued to stare at Orihime as she scooped the dark spotted black sesame gelato and popped it into her mouth. She then followed it with a snow-white coconut flavored one, and proceeded to dig in with a light red raspberry scoop.

Then she squealed in glee.

The evening innocently began when, after standing in front of the counter for five minutes, the auburn haired girl declared that she couldn't decide which flavor to order. But after a minute, she had picked what he thought were five random flavors, until after discovering much, much later, of the madness this innocent selection was about to ensue. The five gelato cups where placed onto their table together with his Italian roast coffee, where in a strange twist of humor and hindsight, was contained in a French press.

After pouring the coffee to his cup, he dropped a spoon of demerara sugar, and was still stirring when he noticed Orihime lightly humming to herself. Curiosity peaked, he kept himself by the sidelines, and continued to observe while she shuffled the cups in what he thought was a certain order and all the while still wearing a glowing smile. He was still watching her intently, his hands bringing up the steaming cup of black coffee to his lips, when it started - Orihime suddenly brought up her spoon akin to a conductor's stance, tapped them on the wooden tables twice, held it up for a moment, and like a songstress nightingale, she burst into a rhythmic poem:

A black, E white, I red, U green, O blue: vowels,

I shall tell, one day, of your mysterious origins:

A, black velvety jacket of brilliant flies

which buzz around cruel smells,

Gulfs of shadow; E, whiteness of vapours and of tents,

lances of proud glaciers, white kings, shivers of cow-parsley;

I, purples, spat blood, smile of beautiful lips

in anger or in the raptures of penitence;

After the third verse, he was forced to sputter out his coffee in surprise for the poem that housed a rather morbid description of the first three vowels.

Too excited with her game, she continued on, scooping the sublime light green lime, and then extended her arms to pluck out a small taste of the baby blue blueberry gelato, continuing on:

U, waves, divine shudderings of viridian seas,

the peace of pastures dotted with animals, the peace of the furrows

which alchemy prints on broad studious foreheads;

O, sublime Trumpet full of strange piercing sounds,

silences crossed by Worlds and by Angels:

–O the Omega! the violet ray of his Eyes!

Then she paused and nodded to herself. Orihime was about to wave her spoon again when he interrupted her self-imaginary merry making. He had to, if he was going to keep his sanity. He was not planning to go through the rest of the alphabet that described them in ridiculous colors and matched with the level of morbidity that the first five vowels provided.

"What… what insane poem is that?" Ishida sputtered, his careful dignity going up in flames.

"It's not insane, Ishida-kun. It's a French poem called Vowels," she explained patiently, all the while still twirling her spoon with her slender fingers, up in the air, as if an orchestral tune was still playing at the background.

"It's morbid and strange!"

She pouted. "Does not, Ishida-kun. It's a poem I learned when I was young… it helped me learn English. Here, maybe you'll like the French version better!"

Without waiting for his consent, she raised her imaginary baton-spoon again in a dramatic fashion, and then, he assumed, started reciting the same thing, only in French. She did another round of professional conductor scoops, and at the same time, popping each gelato flavor into her lips as the poem went on.

He had to admit, hearing Inoue Orihime suddenly springing forth voicing French was the most ... interesting... thing he's ever seen. Never mind that he didn't understand a single thing, but his eyes suddenly found themselves glued at each syllable being uttered, her lips strangely and sensually twisting shape, causing stirrings of the most oddly embarrassing revelations that other parts of his body was giving approval of. It didn't help to see her enjoying her little game of sing song, as she recited the poem in French with a refined, rhythmic gusto of an enthralled poet. No male human being should ever have to suffer the exaltation of a nightingale in full song as the woman in front of him, even for a poem that had vowels as a subject matter.

He was still left in his stupor, when after finishing the French round, Orihime looked at Ishida squarely in the eyes and said, "très bonne? Ishida-kun? Oui? Oui?" Seeing no immediate reaction, she giggled.

"It's not much, but it's the only French I know. Ishida-kun? Ishida-kun?" she looked at her friend, who was staring at her in a strange manner. She waved her baton-spoon in front of her friend. He seemed to be somewhere else. She quickly picked up his small coffee spoon, and tapped his nose lightly, trying to get him out of his strange reverie. "Maybe you want to try it out yourself, Ishida-kun?"

"A..Absolutely not!" he stuttered, thinking that she was offering him to raise his spoon like a baton and burst into her idiotic poem. He didn't mind her singing it, but he minded very much if he had to. He would rather let Kurosaki beat him up than be caught in such a situation.

"But they're really quite good." She pushed the symbolism of shivers of cow-parsley onto her bespectacled friend in good humor, and added in all sincerity, "I promise this one is not morbid or strange. The coconut was quite good, honest. It's not too sweet. I think you'll like it."

He stared at the cup in front of him and glanced back at her smiling face. He sighed. He was probably never going to see ice cream the same way again. Trust Orihime to do that.

He looked down again at the threat of the snow-white gelato, trying his best not to think of a cow-parsley and the dirt beneath it, or avoid recollecting an image of black velvety jacket of brilliant flies.

Before he knew what was happening, Orihime had suddenly scooped up a spoonful, and edged it inches from his face, waiting for his next action. She looked like a ray of sunshine amidst the dim lighted corner they were in, beaming as if there was nothing wrong. There was nothing wrong in this picture, is there? … Is there? He thought desperately.

The dancing flame of their candle lit table was mischievously taunting him, daring him to think otherwise.

There was nothing else to do but to accede to the her wishes. He squeezed his eyes shut and took the coconutty dessert straight into the linings of his tongue, feeling it slowly melting away on immediate contact of warmth, and similarly cooling the roofs of the onset of his dry, parched mouth. Mixed in with the aftertaste of his Italian roast, it was what the summary of his life with the woman seated in front of him: cool, exotic, and yet, so bittersweet.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she chirped, oblivious to what has just occurred.

He nodded, stupefied in the least. She would have to be the most wonderful tyrant that ever existed in the history of humankind.

He coughed again. He was certainly coughing a lot tonight.

"Yes, mildly sweet," carefully offering his opinion.

"I thought so too. It's nice, no?"

He nodded frantically. What have I gotten myself into?

For a while, he sat in silence while she continued to hum to herself, enjoying her ice cream. It was a comfortable silence that he enjoyed. It was not everyday that he got to spend time with her, and even more so now that she had been away for a whole semester from school. The three of them would meet at least once per week – it wasn't very hard to see each other along the university's hall ways, they were studying in similar fields, after all. He found his time from school work much easier to handle during the times that they did meet. After she was gone, both he and Kurosaki still did hang out, but it wasn't the same without her bubbly laughter. In time they were concentrating more on their own work, and sometimes he thought, bordering on burnout.

She was sunshine. She brought it with her rather easily, and was quite infectious. He missed it. Looking at her, he realized that he hadn't felt so at ease for the past three weeks during the summer break.

"So, Ishida-kun, how have you been spending your vacation?"

"Mostly at home and in Karakura General Hospital, as always. I've been helping out with some of my father's administrative duties since senior high."

"How was it?"

"The hospital basically could run by itself with minimal supervision, but he had to attend a three day medical conference earlier this week, so I had to personally help manage some of the day to day operations. The other day I had to deal with some delayed supply deliveries. It is quite mundane, really," he elaborated in a no-nonsense tone. He didn't sound quite excited by it.

"He specialized in heart surgery, didn't he?"

"He rarely does any surgery work nowadays, except for special cases. If he does, I'm not really allowed to assist. He's basically relegated me to grunt work." He said in a tone that was half bitter, half weary. "Not much of a vacation really. Occasionally he brings me along to one of two pharmaceutical conference… its mostly a lot of drinking and sales people pitching their products."

"I'm sure you'd have learned a thing or two, Ishida-kun. Your father probably wants to start you slow."

"It's not really a medical experience to be working under your father, Inoue-san. You would have probably had a better time, if you actually decided to accept an intern post there," he pointed rather flaccidly. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were getting more out of your position at Arrancar, than I was with mine."

She chuckled.

"What's so funny, Inoue-san?"

"I actually like working there, Ishida-kun. They're a very interesting company."

"Seriously? Kurosaki and I were worried you were going to get hurt."

"Well, the workplace dynamic is quite challenging."

"Challenging, as in, brawl fights in the office?"

"It's not an everyday occurrence, no. I started out with Syazel, but he wasn't really managing me. But I took all your advice and tried to talk to the CFO, and he provided me with a decent budget to put up the team building. It was quite interesting to see how energetic my colleagues are. They gave me a hand on everything, and I managed to team up an intoxicated Grimmjow with one of my colleagues - Ulquiorra - for a wall scaling/paint ball session. He's quite proficient at scaling walls, so I decided to team him up with Grimmjow-"

Uryuu had an impressive image of her blue haired colleague drunk and trying to manage to scale up the wall.

" - the thing is, I guessed that Ulquiorra doesn't really like to lose, and I was right! So he ended up carrying Grimmjow on his back while scaling the wall –"

He had a hard time carrying her friend this evening to the car, and he wondered if he could try and scale a wall with the large, drunk man behind his back. Probably not.

"- But he tied himself to Grimmjow, so when they reached the top, Ulquiorra-san couldn't get rid of him and was hit with several enemy paintballs! I got a shot too… it wasn't very nice of me... but ... " she giggled, unable to suppress herself." ... it was pretty funny! " By this time, Orihime was laughing.

Ishida made a mental note not to get into Orihime's bad side. She could be unwoefully cruel hearing how she intentionally set things up so that this Ulquiorra suffer a cruel fate. Having been hit relentlessly by paintballs is a huge blow to the male ego. He could already imagine the sight of a poor guy covered wholly in paint.

"The poor guy. What did he do to deserve this?"

"It's not about deserving, or not. He's a perfectionist, I think. And a bit obsessive compulsive. And very very cold," she whispered to him conspiratorially, "I had a hard time trying to get him to interact with me and get a response, so I decided to throw an unknown factor into something he was proficient in, and see how he would cope with change."

He added 'unintentionally but extremely sadistic' to the list of unexpected things from Inoue Orihime. Definitely not recommended to get on her bad side.

"And how did he take it afterwards?" Uryuu inquired curiously.

"He-" and suddenly stopped. She remembered him taking a step towards her, his icy cold eyes looking down. And then she remembered having to move into his office the day afterwards, and she was locked in there ever since. Something she had to put up again, next week.

"- took it as expected," she finished lamely.

Sensing the sudden mood change, he decided to press on. This was the time to change. He avoided discussing things with her, and giving his opinion. But nothing usually stopped her cheery disposition, yet in a short moment, he thought her eyes took on a depressing, clouded aura, almost a resigned note.

He knew sometimes she hid things from them. About how she really felt about certain things. They were easy to spot, after being around her for so long. He usually didn't comment much, because the gang were always there to keep things away from her, but it was different now. Very different. They weren't always around her anymore, not since she stopped going to Todai last semester. For the first time in their ten year friendship, he prodded her on and voiced out his concerns directly.

"He sounds like a dangerous man, Inoue-san. Maybe you should keep away from him," Uryuu warned.

Clueless to what he was saying, she continued. "Oh, but I can't do that. Our boss specifically wanted me to work on him."

Her answer irked him. Was she listening?

"Maybe you should step a bit further from him when you do need to assess him then," he pressed a bit further, trying to get her to listen, "So far you've told me he's temperamental, obsessive compulsive, perfectionist, cold, and by accounts, he sounds strong, if he managed to bring Grimmjow up a wall and tied in his back. I myself had a difficult time carrying Grimmjow myself. That is a dangerous mix, Inoue-san."

She glanced at Uryuu, a bit surprised at suddenly hearing his opinions tonight. But it didn't matter... he ... didn't understand. She always knew Uryuu was protective, even if he always kept quiet. If only she could step back, but she couldn't, even if she wanted to, being stuck in his office. But something was also nagging her. Ulquiorra was like puzzle you needed to solve. He was smart, calculated, disciplined, rational – but he also didn't add up. He didn't make any sense. His comments, his views, his impressions, even his eyes – it was all wrong in many ways. And the scars. After moving into his floor, she found herself glacing occasionally towards the Cuatro, and wondering about the scars… they bothered her. No one gets scars like that. They were very deep scars, and more than once she has wondered how he had gotten them.

She remembered how he was singlehandedly working on the gene sequencing matrices, and thought how pivotal it would be if he actually did learn to work with others. Ulquiorra was like a gem tucked away in a mess of the attic, uncleaned and covered in dust. A bit of polishing here and there, and place the gem in the right setting, and it could be the best discoveries in years.

She answered slowly. "I promise to be careful, Ishida-kun. I just agree with our boss though, he has a lot of potential."

"Everyone has potential, Inoue-san. It's just a matter if we want to nurture it," he eased back slightly, satisfied to hear the slight seriousness in her tone, "Take yourself as an example. You work hard for your studies. If you, or other people, didn't spend enough time, I doubt they would have gotten into Tokyo University."

"I know. But he is different. Did you know he was working on gene sequencing all by himself? Without a university degree, at all? He managed the first scan in three months. I bet he can even work faster if he tried. Most of the times he actually looks bored. Bored!" she laughed.

"He's probably slacking off when you saw him… I mean, how often do you see him anyway? If he was as private and inaccessible as you say he is, its not much, right? I mean, it's mudane in my father's office -"

"No, he always looks bored, Ishida-kun. Eight hours a day, five days a week. I sit across him, and there's nothing to do, so I just look at him -"

"What do you mean, eight hours a day? What do you do, hound him?" He was confused. Inoue was not prone to exaggerating. Sure, she had an extremely overactive imagination, but she tended to tell the truth when it comes to numbers. When she said eight hours, she usually meant eight hours.

"…. But there's not much to do in his floor…."

The man had his own floor? "His floor? I thought you were working with this Syazel guy that actually ignores you?"

"Yes, I was… but the boss wanted me to work on Ulquiorra-san, and I was transferred last Monday to his floor… and he's unresponsive and all, and so there's nothing to do sometimes, its always just me and him –"

His temper was rising fairly quickly after hearing this. "Just the two of you? Are you locked up in his office?"

"No, no… Its not really locked up.. I mean the place is quite big, its just the whole floor for ourselves, not counting the server room and the toilet, of course… so there's plenty of space…" she trailed off when she saw Ishida's face.

"Did I say something wrong, Ishida-kun?"

"Inoue-san, you are working at Arrancar Corporation," he pointed out, trying very hard to keep his voice controlled, but was having a difficult time anyway, "Contrary to what I told you before, I know for a fact the guys there have records in the system. Not just one, but several records, likely. My father has crossed paths with them in the past, and it's not a pretty picture, from what he's told me. And now you're telling me you are locked in alone in a whole empty floor with one of them, who seems to be emotionally unstable and in your words, and I am sure this is from your perspective, which I have to say, has always been forgiving, you described him as temperamental. Is there something wrong with that picture?"

"Uhm… he's not as bad as you think he is..." she whimpered.

Ishida was frustrated to no end. She was so dead set on giving excuses for other people, even when they were clearly in the wrong. He hated the fact that for years, he had to watch while she gave a string of excuses to people who were clearly not deserving. People who bullied her with her atypical hair, guys who tried to accidentally "bump" into her, whistles, hearing men talk about her in the locker room, ... just because they thought they could get away with it. Orihime never found fault in them, she never got angry. So called people who tried to be friends with her because she was popular, then throwing her aside like a rag doll when they've gotten enough social status from being with her. If he and Kurosaki weren't around to keep them off, it would have been a lot worse. But the heartbreaking thing was that she took it all in with a smile, even though he knew she was clearly hurting. And most of all, he could not stand the way it turned out with her brother's 'accident'. She constantly kept smiling, her eyes saying otherwise, and just let things off.

It was all too much for him. He wasn't going to let her make excuses anymore. She forgave too much for him to handle...

... And everything spilled out before he knew what he was saying.

"You forgave the drunk man that collided with your brother's car!" He raised his voice in frustration, unaware that he had suddenly stood half way up his seat, almost looming over his friend. "I know, Inoue, my father told me! In my book, and the law for that matter, that was a criminal act. You should have pressed charges, but you didn't. You even tried to drop the charges when it went through! And you are telling me this person is 'not as bad as you think he is'?"

"That's.. that's… different…it was an accident…." she stammered.

"Your colleagues, and specifically, this Ulquiorra, sounds like an 'accident' waiting to happen. Tell me Inoue, tell me how it's different from the drunk man that murdered your brother," he challenged coldly.

A flood of guilt poured into Orihime. She missed her brother desperately, not hours earlier, feeling the weight of loneliness, and finally thinking that she had her emotions under control. And then her friend, the one she was worried about, the one in front of her, was reminding her of what's left of her right this moment. And telling her she was wrong. That it was somebody else's fault. Hearing murder. Floodgates of guilt poured out, one that was kept bottled up inside for months and months since her brother's hospitalization, and becoming worse each day since he passed away.

"My... my brother had leukemia long before he got into the accident! He could've cut himself while cooking, he could've fell while fixing our roof, something!" She croaked, tears stung in her eyes, and she knew her cheeks were dampening, but she couldn't stop, not after hiding everything in for so long, "And no one would know! He told me he was feeling weary for the past few months, and I just stayed in Todai and studied, not even bothering to come home for the breaks to check what was wrong with him. It's not the driver's fault! Its not his fault!… Its… its…"

She broke down to ragged sobs, unable to finish what she wanted to say.

Uryuu stopped.

When he saw her tears, he suddenly realized what he had horribly done. And he hated himself. He was now officially the same as the perpetrators that hurt Orihime. How was he different from all the others that callously made her cry? Even with pure intentions, he overstepped his bounds. He should've been better than that. He was supposed to be her friend. He had just effectively pushed her away and accused her because of his own problems, his difficulty coping with her. He lashed out because he couldn't stand and handle his own emotions. And even worse, he knew, Inoue would still be forgiving him in the end for something that he has messed up. It pulled at the depths of his being. She would forgive him, he knew… she wouldn't be Orihime if she didn't. He was utterly shameless, and he disgusted himself. He pulled up a full reverse to avoid making a bigger mess than what was already done. The eggs were thrown and broken, and there was no way he could put them back. All because he was impatient. He was unforgiving, he never understood.

"I'm sorry, Inoue-san. I.. I didn't mean to say that…" his apology dragging him along pinnacles of sharp edged rocks. She hid her face away from him. She was vainly trying to hide her sobbing, but it was useless.

How do you fix something that was inadvertently caused by yourself?

After a short silence of indecision, Ishida awkwardly stood up, and slid to her seat and placed his arms around her. He felt her move up to his chest, and her sobbing quieting a bit. It didn't make him feel better. In fact, he felt worse.

"I'm really sorry, Inoue-san," he said, unsure of himself, "I was just really worried, I didn't want any harm to come to you. It wasn't right for me to bring up some things. Its not your fault…"

"Its.. its okay, Ishida-kun," she sobbed quietly, "I know you didn't mean it…" He was at loss for words as he felt her curl up further against him, hiding her face, her real feelings from the world. Despite what he just did, she still trusted him. And his arms automatically held on tightly, to reassure her.

And then he understood. For every ten people who didn't care, there was one who could be turned back to care, only if one gave them the chance. And Orihime was the ultimate forgiver. For that one out of ten who went wayward, her forgiveness and understanding taught them humility and patience, and gave them the chance to redeem themselves, properly, without coercion. It was a far better way than to throw people to jail to be judged.

And right then, he knew he was different, because he was one out of those ten.

He consciously wrapped his arms around her - this time in a firm, steady embrace, and if he were to think about it a little deeper, almost possessively.

When he was young, he thought he knew a keeper when he saw one, because unlike everyone else, he was not tempted by pretty pictures. Despite his stoic exterior, he always saw things past their superficial appearances, just like he knew Chad was a loyal friend, Kurosaki, despite their bantering, was solidly dependable, as well as the rest of the gang. And he thought he knew Orihime Inoue was a keeper. And here he was, all this time for ten years, thinking the girl in his arms was special. But he was always angry when she did what frustrated him the most,… and now he realized that it was that very same thing that made her exceptional. He realized now in those ten years of knowing her, he was utterly blind. She wasn't special. He looked down at the soft, flowing orange crowns on her head, and knew.

She was a keeper, alright; He was holding on to the best treasure humankind had to offer.

"Are you sure you will be alright, Inoue-san?"

He looked at her as she was about to open the door to his car. During their way back, she settled down and started to make jokes about being overly dramatic, but he didn't mind anything. He was just glad he had the chance to drive Orihime home, unsobbing, and tear-free.

"I will be fine, Ishida-kun. Don't worry," she said, flashing her brightly lit trademark smile at him. He supposed it was to be reassuring. It worked, somewhat anyway.

But not enough.

Before she could step out, he grabbed her hands. She looked back to him with question in her eyes.

He tried to muster as much seriousness as he could manage, and coming from him, a specialist in looking serious all the time, every time, it was strangely determined. But he wanted to make absolutely sure she understood.

"Inoue-san. I'm really sorry about how I acted tonight."

It was almost a plead. He knew it, and he knew that she knew.

He saw her brown, doe eyes soften, like the colors of pools of fresh earth dug out, just before the morning dew disappears. He used to love looking at how they flit and change moods that accompanied her crazy ideas, but now more than ever. He needed her to understand.

"I know, Ishida-kun. I understand. I will be fine," she answered back softly, and squeezed his hand reassuringly.

Right then, he knew things were going back, to be all right between them, and if he had any say, maybe he can make it even better. He smiled. He knew the smile reached his eyes. He never felt better in his whole life.

"Okay," he responded back to her, and a steady nod. And he let go of her hands.

He watched as walked up to her porch and fidgeted for the house key from her bag. When she went in and he heard a soft click of her doors locking, he pressed the button to roll up the car windows, and slowly backed out of the driveway. Soon afterwards, he recalled what he was considering earlier, during their drive back to her place. It was imperative he did, for his peace of mind.

For his sanity's sake, he was going to have to find out exactly how 'temperamental' this Ulquiorra is.

AN: Rofl... Poor Ulquiorra now has two people on his heels. And to think he hasn't done any moves on Orihime yet... *grin*

I loved this chapter for the fact that even though Ulquiorra isn't physically here, he was still in a large chunk of the sections, and even managed to drag both Uryuu and Orihime into an argument. What the heck! No ulquihime romance yet and already dominating the story? Ulquiorra, you are good. *snicker*

Next: Orihime comes back to the office, determined to face her oppressor. But not before she falls sick... and gets a strange sort of pampering.

Reviews please.. yes I know its odd to have Uryuu's POV, but I'd always like to get your opinion! Please share! Also, I will try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible.