A/N: I hope you're enjoying this fic despite the slow updates. Happy 2019!

Disclaimer: BLEACH and its characters belong to Kubo Tite. (Did anyone watch the live-action movie released on Netflix recently?)

Chapter 31 - A Warm Winter: Part Two

A brief flurry of snow marked the night of Christmas eve in the heart of Tokyo. Ichigo looked out the window of Orihime's studio apartment just outside Shibuya, wishing he could be outdoors basking in the rare occurrence. It hardly snows in Tokyo. When it does, it's mostly in January, that once or twice, pithy showers that melt as soon as they touch the ground.

The skies were clear and in the well-lit distance he could make out the bone white high-rise apartment complex atop Roppongi Hills. It was distinctive, exclusive and expensive. And he had been to one such home in the complex not too long ago, going in and out of the highly secure compound so often that he began to wonder in hindsight how no one had seen him. Ichigo hadn't exactly been conspicuous about his visits, choosing to don just a regular pair of shades and a baseball cap as part of his usual get-up. There was no big deal about him going to a colleague's place in his free time, right? But as a result of whatever happened then and there, Ichigo had caused a whole lot of trouble to people. He hated trouble and he hated it even more when people around him were bothered as a result.

Ichigo looked across the road and saw a black Honda Civic parked on the side with its window wound down despite the cold. Those damn tabloids! Only they would have the tenacity to trail a boring guy like him once they caught scent of something that wasn't even true to begin with. It had only been two days since he spoke with Renji, and the redhead quickly arranged for Ichigo to be seen with Orihime more often. First the dinner, then a not-so-conspicuous goodbye embrace three blocks down from the restaurant, and now this—making sure he was seen entering Orihime's apartment late at night and not leaving until the next morning. Tatsuki, who was Orihime's manager, made sure that Ichigo's half-sneaky entry to Orihime's home was well captured. Everything was mere trouble and it took time away from Ichigo to spend precious time with his family. But who was he to complain? Ichigo's gaze yet again strayed to where Ulquiorra stayed, wanting to blame the raven for all of this but instead found himself wondering what he was doing at this time. The actor briefly imagined exchanging a civil round of Christmas greetings with his co-star, which was surely futile because Ulquiorra didn't look like someone who celebrated anything. His attention soon shifted to the green of a Christmas tree and somehow, because he was tired, for a moment he thought the vibrant teal of Ulquiorra's eyes far rivalled that of the festive green. Ichigo reached for his phone and scrolled to his co-star's name, his fingers hovering above the keypad. What should he say? Anything outside of the movie seemed unnecessary, the only thing still tying them together was the dinner next week.

Ichigo: Dinner next week is confirmed yea? Anyway…thought I should wish you merry Xmas. So well, have a good one.

"Kurosaki-kun? I made tea. Do you want some?" Orihime's voice floated from the kitchen, making Ichigo jump.

"Yeah, thanks," Ichigo called back. Without hitting the send button, he quickly slid his phone back in his pocket. He'd think about it later. Besides, which part of Ulquiorra Schiffer suggested that he was into Christmas? Ichigo was sure to look stupid in front of him, and that was the last thing he needed. He took one last look at the paparazzi gathering at the front of the condominium before closing the Venetian blinds. News travelled fast this side of Tokyo.

As Ichigo made his way over to the dining area, he saw several long coats of maroon and forest green styled in straight boxy cuts, hanging above the dryer in the balcony just behind the kitchen. Ichigo felt guilty again. Orihime had been terribly obliging of his request to change her dinner plans suddenly, and acceded to donning a certain type of outfit for the time being. She wore her usual cheery smile as she played the part of his loving girlfriend in public, while pretending to be shy when they were caught on camera holding hands as they left the restaurant.

"Sorry for the trouble," Ichigo said as he sat down across from Orihime and wrapped his hands around the tea cup, three-quarters filled with freshly brewed Earl Grey.

Orihime smiled. She pushed a plate of white chocolate raspberry cookies toward the actor.

"It's just tea and some bites."

"And at this hour. Looks like you're set to waste the night away. Merry Christmas, Inoue." Ichigo raised his cup to Orihime.

"Merry Christmas, Kurosaki-kun."

They drank their tea in silence, enjoying the linger of bergamot in their mouths. On the TV was some variety countdown show with the year's hottest pop artists performing their Christmas singles as the hours closed in on midnight. The volume was soft, almost forgettable, but it made the atmosphere less awkward, as Ichigo had hoped, since it was just him and Orihime in her apartment.

Orihime spoke after a while. "Kurosaki-kun, I hope I didn't ruin your plans."

"More like I ruined yours. You could have been hanging out with your high school friends. But you're kinda stuck here with me."

Orihime couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"N-Nothing." The model covered her mouth with her hand. "It's just that…you sound so unlike your usual self."

Ichigo put down his cup and sighed. "Hey. I was truly sorry for the trouble I put you through. You should be having fun out there now."

"I've always spent Christmas at home. My brother and Tatsuki-chan sometimes come over that's all. Please don't worry about it."

Ichigo scratched the back of his head, not quite knowing what to say.

"Besides, I had fun shopping yesterday!" Orihime continued. "I don't usually wear these straight long coats, but Tatsuki-chan picked some really nice ones for me. They're a good fit with what Abarai-kun asked for!" She swayed her shoulders lightly, as if twirling in a coat she was trying on. "A person who wears these clothes must be very stylish. I kind of envy them, you just have to put on a coat like this and you instantly look good."

"That's complete nonsense. There's nothing fanciful about these type of coats."

"Oh…they are really popular now! Don't you know, the long coat with scallop sleeves and boxy structure worn by Matsumoto-san in her latest drama was sold out? It's by Chloe so it naturally costs a lot, but she wore it so well that even I was tempted to place an order for it too! Speaking of Matsumoto-san, she's starting a new prime-time variety show. It's targeted at women in their 20s to 40s, and she has asked me to co-host the beauty and fashion segment!"

"People don't look good in these coats," Ichigo muttered under his breath. He bit into the tea cookies hard and fast, forcing the crunch between his teeth to silence his mind from revisiting the night at the parking lot with his green-eyed co-star, and all the other tiniest of misadventures tying their reluctant selves together, again and again.

"You're right, Kurosaki-kun. So on the show, we'll give tips on dressing that suits different body types, and how to shop for clothes that enhance your natural physique. It'll be filmed live." Orihime placed her hands on her lap, a habit she couldn't shake off whenever she was nervous. She had something to tell the actor, but she didn't know how to go about it. Right now she was taking the long route, but eventually, before the night ended, she'd tell him. Orihime continued, "Matsumoto-san says it's just like acting. For the 20 minutes that I'm on, I'll just need to act the part of a variety host, and I'll need to sink into the role quickly because we don't get fed lines often. I'm really excited about this but to do it well, there are many things I need to work on…" she paused, bashful as to what she was about to say. "That's why I think Kurosaki-kun is so…amazing."

Ah dammit coats. The straight, boxy kind. The type that Ulquiorra likes to wear. Green, grey, and sometimes navy or black. What about white? Does he wear white coats? Like a doctor? Ah. Who cares.

"Kurosaki-kun?"

No really. It's Christmas, maybe he'll wear something that brings out the teal in his eyes? Maybe something…auburn? Does he have something in that? Wait. Why do I care again? No I obviously don't. Because who cares—

"Kurosaki-kun?"

It took Ichigo moments before he realized the model's gaze was on him. "Eh?"

"Are you OK?"

"Y-Yeah. Why not?"

"Sorry, I must have said too much and bored you."

"Nah, it's not that." Ichigo hastily wiped at his mouth. He was sure Orihime was staring because he had cookie crumbs dotted over his face. "I was thinking. I mean, it's great, how your career is developing. Acting is one thing, and variety shows are another thing. It's tough to deal with the producer because it's natural to want to let your personality show." Ichigo's voice came out more shrilly that he'd liked, and at once he thought it best to just shut up and fill his mouth with tea. In one long drink he emptied the contents of his cup.

Orihime nodded slowly. "Recently I appeared on a variety program. I knew the answers to some of the questions, but the producer told us to not say too much."

"I know what you mean. They will hate for you to outshine the hosts and main celebrity guests. It's shitty as hell and a bloody waste of time. But if you see it another way, it's just another role for you to play in front of people."

"That's why I think Kurosaki-kun is so amazing," Orihime repeated, her tone soft and shy.

"Oh? I think there are many others out there who are doing a way better job than me though."

"I'm not saying this lightly! I've seen the really senior actors at work in my recent dramas and I'm always so amazed at how quickly they disappear into their roles. I thought I had learned a lot from watching them until I stepped onto your set." The model lowered her gaze. "To be honest, I was blown away by what I saw."

Ichigo's smiled wryly. "Was that good or bad?"

"It was great. You and Ulquiorra-kun…" Orihime paused, "…have so much chemistry together."

"You call that chemistry? It's more like toxic—do not go near!"

"N-No, Kurosaki-kun. I really mean it! After seeing the filming, I cannot imagine anyone else in your role."

In truth, Orihime found it painful to recall the filming that morning. In between the intense lip-lock and hungry caresses, their gazes dripping with want and hopelessness, their skin starved of touch. But she also recalled, amid the sensual displays, when both men broke apart to gasp for air, how their eyes had for the briefest of moments, met and turned soft, and how their mouths swiftly touched again, as if to hide a smile that threatened to breach the artifice of the set-up.

Across the table from her, Ichigo's mind wandered off again, yet again—at the memory of that heated scene together and all the others before, but without him in them. He thought about other people whom Ulquiorra would have embraced in the movie; another person who was not him going to Ulquiorra's house, possibly growing closer to him, someone other than him being privy to the raven's private life, someone else whom Ulquiorra would have kissed in the kitchen that one night, then days later, inching toward greater intimacy in the swimming pool under a heady mix of real and reel. A ball of unease unfurled somewhere deep inside Ichigo, a strange sensation wrapping tightly around him. He hated that. He didn't need that. He wanted to squash that feeling with his fingers, and deny its existence altogether.

"Kurosaki-kun, did I say something wrong?"

"W-Who wants to see him with anyone else! I for one am not interested. That's for sure!"

Inoue's eyes widened. "S-Sorry. I didn't mean that."

Ichigo realized his outburst and quickly corrected himself. "I mean, who else could be as unfortunate as me! Man, I'm not watching Autumn Chrysalis when it's out. Give it another five years and I won't even remember that I was ever in this film!"

"But you have put in a lot of effort for this."

The actor nodded, a tad too vigorously for Orihime's belief. "That's the way I am. I treat every project the same!"

Then, as if the verbal assertions took a great toll on him, he veered off into silence, his mind a thousand miles away. As Orihime watched him, her own heart sank in the realisation that the man sitting right across from her was fast becoming unreachable. But it gave Orihime the push she needed. Her hands remained folded neatly on her lap, a habit she couldn't shake off whenever she was nervous. She gauged the actor's response, waiting until he had cooled down after his little tirade about Ulquiorra. It wasn't until several moments later, when Ichigo returned from the washroom, his face refreshed from a light wash, that Orihime decided to broach the topic.

"Kurosaki-kun, I have something to discuss with you."

"Hmm?"

"I know there are still ten months before the contract is up, but I've been thinking lately if we can terminate it earlier. I once asked Tatsuki-chan to check the legalities, and we should have room for negotiation since we've passed the minimum 20-month mark."

"What's the rush? Can't we just wait until the contract runs out next October and decide what to do next?" Ichigo looked at Orihime. Then his eyes brightened. "Don't tell me…"

"Eh? Kurosaki-kun?"

"You found someone!" Ichigo grinned impishly. "Is that right, Inoue?"

Orihime's hands at once flew to her face, flushed pink with embarrassment. "O-Of course not! There is no one like that! Please don't misunderstand!"

The actor's grin diminished slightly, but his expression was visibly more relaxed now. "Well then, since there's no particular hurry, let's just keep to it for now. Both of us have got some serious work lined up next year, and we'll need all the focus we can get."

"But it's not fair to you," Orihime protested. "I read the papers. I read the forums. People are calling you nasty names for no reason."

"I can't control what other people think."

"This arrangement is clearly giving you trouble!"

"It'll all blow over soon."

"B-But you can't even explain yourself because our management is really strict about these kind of things."

"To be frank, I don't care. I just happen to be the gossip of the week, and the shitty thing is I got you involved."

"But you didn't even have to do this. Not now, not two years ago."

"Not you too, Inoue." Ichigo threw his head back against the chair. "Renji said the same thing to me. What's it with you guys?"

"Because it gives people the wrong impression," Orihime blurted out despite herself.

"I don't know what you're trying to say. But like I said, it works perfectly for me. So unless you think otherwise, don't worry about it. OK?"

Orihime didn't say anything but gaze intently at the actor, who raised the cup to his lips before realizing that the cup was empty, and put it down, his fingers still lingering on the ear of the cup, not knowing if he should refill his cup or just leave it as it is. Orihime noticed that this was the fourth time Ichigo did this. Ichigo's reaction towards the whole affair surprised Orihime. The idol-turned-actor had always been hotheaded and peeved whenever he noticed the paparazzi tailing him, even when it was an arranged date with Orihime. She remembered how hard he'd tried to suppress his irritation just so he'd maintain his public persona, one carefully crafted by their agency. To see him react so nonchalantly towards the rumours, it was either that he really didn't care, or he was distracted by something more important. Probably a mixture of both, Orihime concluded as she studied the face of the man who sat across the table from her. Well, if she couldn't help out for his work, she could, at the very least, nudge him towards some sort of realization.

"Say, Kurosaki-kun. Do you believe in people falling in love, even when they know it's not real?"

The unease seated deep within Ichigo began to stir again. Despite the December chill that occasionally flitted through the gap in the windows, his palms were clammy.

"That's not possible."

"Maybe they don't even know that it's not real to begin with?"

"That's even more ridiculous. How can you not know?"

"But," Orihime protested, "in truth you are free to like whoever you want. No one should criticise you for that." Noticing Ichigo's apparent discomfort with the topic, Orihime quickly added, "It's just that I recently heard about two of my co-stars on the drama starting to date." The actor visibly relaxed at her admission.

"Don't most of these couples break off after a short while?"

"Some end up marrying each other!" Orihime piped up. "I don't really see any difference between feelings that grow on the set and feelings which you nurse outside of the studio."

"Inoue, you…" Ichigo started, then changed his mind when he realized the model was only being earnest. He sighed. "I mean, don't you think such…feelings are invalid? You know the purpose of your role is to fall for that person, and if you really go ahead and fall for them, it's just really weird, like you're borrowing someone else's affection and acting upon it."

"Maybe it's the quality of the time you spend with each other on and off the set that triggers such feelings."

"So what you're saying is, in real life you would have avoided that sort of person at all costs. To even like that person in the remotest sense is just impossible, because you don't even want to be their friend at all? There's nothing likeable about them."

"And yet you find yourself incredibly drawn to them as time goes by. Is that right?" Orihime's eyes lit up. "You can't help but wonder if they think of you this way too."

Despite himself, Ichigo's mind drifted back to the bone-white high rise apartments atop Roppongi Hills, where he first caught a glimpse into how his and Ulquiorra's fates could still have entwined in an alternate life, had their families stay intact.

"Sounds exactly like a badly-written teen drama," he scoffed.

The model's smile grew wider. "Sounds a lot like destiny to me."

"Don''t you find it too convenient? Actually falling for someone just because you're paid to do so? That's stupid and a complete waste of time."

"People fall in love unexpectedly all the time, but it doesn't mean that they have misplaced their feelings. Kurosaki-kun," Orihime continued softly. "I think a person's feelings shouldn't be disregarded so easily."

That closed off the night. They sat there, gazes half-turned to the TV, each lost to their own thoughts as the low hum of the variety program steadily filled the silence.

Ichigo had one busy Christmas. After his overnight stint at Orihime's apartment and their late night chat, he took a 3-hour nap in the living room and left at the break of dawn for a quick magazine shoot, had a bento brunch by himself in the car before heading to downtown Tokyo's most popular radio station, where he was arranged to pre-record an one hour segment called "Night with the Stars".

By three p.m, he was finally freed from his showbiz obligations. He returned home, tired yet eager to test out a new recipe he had in mind for the new year dinner. He had thought of it while chatting with the radio staff on hotpot meals in Kyoto. "Ichi-nii, you're getting ahead of yourself! It's not the 31st yet!" Karin had exclaimed loudly as Ichigo added fresh yuzu peels into the shabu-shabu base to give the usual savory soup a more tangy bite. He even mixed grated radish with yuzu chunks, red chilli and soy sauce to make the dip, and personally, he was pleased with the outcome—just the right amount of sweetness with a slightly spicy kick.

After dinner, Ichigo volunteered to watch the house while his family headed out to the local shopping arcade to bask in the Christmas lights. He was exhausted, utterly tired of people, and just wanted to kick back with the latest Unohana Retsu novel. Despite reading it twice, he was sure he had missed out certain things because of his tendency to skim through in the first read. It was narrated in the first person perspective by someone who claimed to be a murderer, and delved into many twists and turns before the truth was somewhat unravelled. He was dying to discuss the ending with other fellow readers, and had taken to the web forums to battle his theories out, but he felt deeply unsatisfied by the responses online. Since the book release, there had been talk of it being adapted for TV, and naturally, the overwhelmingly popular first choice for the narrator was none other than Ulquiorra. He'd make the perfect anti-hero, with those limpid green eyes that held so much within and yet in the same space, said nothing at all. But, remove him from the screen, as Ichigo had learned, those same eyes carried a whole other yard of emotions. He was just as human as they come, and like any other person, he could fall in—

At that thought his insides churned again. Christmas was ending in three hours but there was something he hadn't done yet. Ichigo reached for his phone and opened the short text he had drafted last night. Should he? Should he not? Ichigo felt lame for even thinking about it. Simple—send it or don't. Besides, it didn't mean anything. He wasn't expecting anything either. A reply from Ulquiorra? No way. Maybe he just needed to get that text out, so he could get over it.

With a surge of bravado he deleted the original draft text, entered a new one, and hit 'Send' before he could change his mind.

Minutes before midnight, a message beeped on his phone. Ichigo had forgotten to mute his phone and the loud chime jolted him awake. He'd fallen asleep with the Unohana novel spread open on his face, and was pretty sure he would continue his slumber in a more comfortable manner, had he not unlocked his phone out of reflex and noticed two new message notifications from Ulquiorra.

Ichigo rubbed his eyes. Ulquiorra?!

The actor squinted hard at the screen. The message at the top was indeed the one he had sent to the raven.

Ulquiorra: What does 'salty' mean when describing a person?

Ichigo re-read the message to make sure that the sender was indeed his co-star and not some random contact he'd saved under the wrong name. His hands even shook a little, he thought pathetically.

Ulquiorra: Can you explain?

Ichigo: Oh ho ho.

Ulquiorra: Yes, hello.

Ichigo: Don't you know? It refers to people who trample on the joy of giving by not returning festive greetings.

Ulquiorra: Your eloquence astounds me at times.

Ichigo: You don't know how hard I try to impress you ;-)

Ulquiorra: Sent an image

It was a photo message—Sakana sniffing at a Christmas tree-shaped snack with a look of slight disdain. The corners of Ichigo's lips quirked upwards.

Ichigo: Sheesh. Is this your way of returning my well-meaning gesture?

Ulquiorra: You can choose to ignore it.

Ichigo: So salty person. What did you buy for Sakana-chan? Did she eat it in the end?

Ulquiorra: It's a chicken biscuit. Mother gave it to her. She said even if I do not celebrate Christmas, I should consider Sakana's feelings. Since Sakana finished the bag of snacks, I assume she is into Christmas as well.

Ichigo: Speaking of Christmas meals, I had fried chicken. I don't know why but they taste so good on this day.

Ulquiorra: That is an illusion brought on by advertising and a heavy dose of seasoning.

Ichigo: What will I do without you bursting my little bubbles?

Ulquiorra: I would suppose you have someone to spend time with in these false constructs.

Ichigo: False constructs? Ha. My life's real as hell and I had to work today! But I was quick enough and got home before dinner. I even tried a new recipe for next week. It's not bad. I think.

Ulquiorra: What for?

Ichigo: Huh? Don't tell me you forgot?

Ulquiorra: I did not. There is just no need to go to such extent.

Ichigo: Someone's gotta live up to your sky high expectations, and you can always drop by before the weekend to have a taste.

Ichigo: Just saying…in case there's anything you don't like. But only if you want, of course!

Ichigo: And if I happen to be free!

Ulquiorra: I'm in Hakodate now.

Ichigo: With your mom? She stays in Hokkaido, right?

Ulquiorra: Should I be concerned with the amount of information you have on me?

Ichigo: Yeah. Don't piss me off, or I'll sell you out on the Internet!

Ulquiorra: I look forward to seeing you hit a new low.

Ichigo: You're nasty. Ah well…what am I supposed to expect of you? It's the festive season and you're still the same.

Ulquiorra: I take pride in being consistent, regardless of when and where.

Ichigo: Fine, you win. You've got character consistency. You're at the perfect place for winter. Ahhh…it must be the perfect festive mood over there, spending the holidays with family. And quieter I bet.

Ulquiorra: Mother mentioned you. She asked why you weren't here.

Ichigo's heart started to pound in his ears. At that very moment, he couldn't be more thankful for the distance between them. He tried to steady his nerves with a deep breath, but he felt his hands turn clammy instead.

Ichigo: So…what did you say?

Ulquiorra: Next time.

At that Ichigo sat up, his eyes wide with surprise and the tips of his ears tingling with a warmth that came from nowhere. He must had turned up the room heater too high. Before he could think up a reply, a new text from his co-star popped up.

Ulquiorra: Don't get me wrong. If I had not said that, Mother would not have let it slide.

Ichigo: Damn! I was all ready to pack my bags and get on the next plane to Hakodate. Never mind, I have next time, right?

Ulquiorra: As usual you have a tendency to get ahead of yourself.

Ichigo: You asked for it! How is your mom doing?

Ulquiorra: She is fine, and very lively as always.

Ichigo: That's great. I don't have to ask about you. You always look like you're having fun.

Ulquiorra: Are you envious?

Ichigo: What? No!

There was no response from Ulquiorra. For ten minutes, Ichigo stared at his phone like a moron, wondering if the raven got tired of texting him.

Ichigo: Oi. You fell asleep?

Another wait ensued and Ichigo seriously considered the idea of calling his co-star when a new message from Ulquiorra appeared. It was a photo, one of Hakodate-yama taken at night. Rated as a top attraction in Hokkaido, the view from the small mountain sloping down the lights of the historical Hakodate Port and surrounding town houses was something to behold, especially with a loved one in tow. At that, he felt his face grow hotter. He really needed to get off his bed and turn down the heater.

Ulquiorra: A picture.

Ichigo: Wow, I wouldn't have known if you haven't told me. Did you go all the way out to snap this for me?

Ulquiorra: Keep dreaming.

Ichigo: Actually, I'm dreaming of the sunset view of Motomachi sloping down to Hakodate port.

The younger actor waited for fifteen minutes before a new message popped up. Another picture—the sunset view of Motomachi, where you can see the sun meet the sea amid powder white rooftops.

Ichigo: Is this your way of wishing me Merry Christmas? :-)

Ulquiorra: I happen to have these photographs in my phone.

Ichigo: You're such…a tourist.

Ulquiorra: Mother sent them to me earlier.

Ichigo: Mrs Schiffer has great photography skills!

Ulquiorra: Your attempts to curry favor with my mother are laughable at best.

Ichigo: Boo hoo. Even if you wanted to, you're officially one day late! Well, if I were there, I'd definitely have beautiful dreams. Maybe I should really book the first flight out tomorrow. Been a while since I was there.

Ulquiorra: What about testing out your new recipe? You will need to make adequate preparations for dinner in a week's time.

Ichigo: Eh? You were singing a different tune just now!

Ulquiorra: You're creating expectations in me.

Ichigo thought it absolutely ridiculous how hot it was under his blanket. With great effort, he pushed himself off the bed and turned down the room heater.

Ichigo: And you're a total slave driver. Did anyone tell you that before?

Ulquiorra: I must admit that your powers of imagination grow stronger by the hour.

Ichigo: If that means I'm a creative being, I gladly accept it!

Ulquiorra: Do you now think you are the protagonist from the latest Unohana Retsu novel?

Ichigo: He's deluded. Not me, obviously. But you gotta admit, that's one hella way to introduce yourself at a police interrogation.

Ulquiorra: I just finished it.

Ichigo: Heh. Not bad. I'm on my third reading. Sounds crazy but each time I read it, I see something new. I just can't put it down. No wonder Unohana took 5 years to write this.

They began a lengthy conversation about the novel, and then about the author, and then about how they came to read her. Ulquiorra in the third year of college when he was browsing a bookstore idly a week before the finals—earning a snide 'you must be real popular in class!' from the younger actor; and Ichigo nary a year ago when Renji signed him up for the audition of Autumn Chrysalis. Before they knew it, it was already two in the morning.

Ulquiorra: It's late. I am turning in.

Ichigo: Err? It's only two.

Ulquiorra: I suppose the habits of a vampire have not left you.

Ichigo: Ooh. Go on, judge me by the roles I've played, you raving psychopath who murders people for shit and giggles.

Ichigo yawned until his eyes were runny with tears as he continued typing away on his phone. He would lose consciousness anytime from now, but for some reason, he just couldn't put his phone down. Perhaps he just didn't want to end the conversation. Not yet. Not when the words between them were flowing, pumping foreign sources of heat into his body every now and then. At least, Ichigo mused with a tinge of pride, his heartbeat now resumed its regular rhythm and that queasy stir deep inside had subsided. As he thought, it was just an one-time sensation caused by the heat in his room.

Ulquiorra: Your bark is just as weak as your bite.

Ichigo: I don't bite! I'm more of a ruffian who happens to be a pretty decent samurai.

Ulquiorra: You should substitute 'decent' for 'unrepentant'.

Ichigo: Decent in personality, great at battling!

Ulquiorra: A few battles against weakened opponents and you are already trumpeting your own horn?

Ichigo: You're just jealous that I have the better fighting scenes, ha ha ha.

Ulquiorra: It is not arduous to land strokes on people trained to fall by your sword.

Ichigo: Hmm. Come to think of it, you're right. It's not the fighting that's tough. It's being an idiot that bugs me.

Ulquiorra: What is difficult about playing yourself?

Ichigo: Oi. When did I say it's me? It's just that the more I think about it, the bigger an idiot I feel that shithead Murakami is.

Ulquiorra: In which form of idiocy does he differ from you?

Ichigo: A miserable idiot who did a crap load of things so he could say something in the end.

Ulquiorra: What words could be difficult for an idiot to spout?

Ichigo: Words that he should say before his life gets taken away! If I were him…

Ulquiorra: You would have said them without fail?

Ichigo: Yeah. It's embarrassing as hell but if you're never going to see that person again, why not?

Ulquiorra: So it's a question of personality, not method.

Ichigo: And circumstances. You know. If that idiot and the other idiot live in our times, and if they are texting right now…

Ulquiorra: The idiot, as you say, then has no reason not to hold back his words.

Ichigo: That idiot is hopelessly frank, so he will just put it very bluntly. It's ridiculous how simple and incredibly cheesy what those words can be.

Ichigo closed his eyes, rocking away from the lure of sleep and entered an imaginary place. Long ago, in another life, running away from his home before finding himself at a bookstore just north of the town centre, where he first met the light of his life. All the books they shared between them, the late night conversations that were solely theirs and carried all the baggage from their past and present that spilled into the future, the sake they had drunk to forget all of that. What he had done in desperation to return to the one person he truly cared for, all the words he should have said but could never, for he was just a brute born into the aggressive samurai clan in Chosun, and since young it was beaten into him, that actions were worth a thousand times more than words. But no one taught him that actions could be misread and sometimes, you just need a moment's pause to say the right words and patch the wounds. A fuzzy feeling began to rise in his throat, and then—

Be with me.

The fuzzy jump in his throat jolted Ichigo awake. Shit! What did he just do? It was too late to delete the message—it was immediately read but there was no reply.

Ichigo: His words, not mine!

Ulquiorra: I know.

Ichigo: It's what that idiot Murakami wanted to tell that asshole Takamatsu, ok?!

Ulquiorra: I can hear you all the way from where I am.

Ichigo: Yeah, good. Ah, I woke up too early today. I can barely feel alive anymore.

Ulquiorra: I'm turning in.

Ichigo: Me too…I'll see you next week then.

Ichigo clutched the phone to sleep, his fingers raring to send another text but he stopped himself. Thankfully, there were no more messages from the raven. He should not be texting him anymore. At least, not for now. His mind was caught in a blank and he almost did something stupid, something so incredibly dumb. He should had just gone to sleep. When he closed his eyes, he could still feel his heart slamming against his ribcage. How the hell did their conversation come to this? But it had flowed so naturally, leaving him totally unguarded. How was he going to fall asleep at this stage? As Ichigo tried his utmost to force down the unease creeping up on him, he knew one thing for sure—dinner next weekend with Ulquiorra was going to be a challenge.

Elsewhere on the other end of the line, Ulquiorra kept his gaze on his phone, his mind alert, and his heart, still for so long, began to eke out a rhythm unbeknownst to him. He himself scrolling through the lengthy chat, stopping at a particular line. He read it, over and over again, first in his own voice, then in Takamatsu's, then in Murakami's, and finally, almost abashedly, in Ichigo's.

The actor caught sight of his own reflection in the screen—unfamiliar, like that of a complete stranger staring back at him. This wasn't the first time he fell prey to such tendencies, no thanks to a particular carrot top.

Did Ichigo know what it really meant? No. Of course he didn't mean it, not as Kurosaki Ichigo himself. Ulquiorra Schiffer was not Inoue Orihime. No wait—he meant it, in all his trademark brashness, but that was between two people who dwelled in the pages of a book. But this message, now caught and stored in his memory, had became too personal, too close for comfort.

Ulquiorra held up his right hand and studied his palm, which was trembling ever so slightly. He noticed that the scar had thinned and could even be mistaken as one of the lines on his palm. How long has it been? Three months? Strangely, it didn't seem that long ago. He could close his eyes and return to the kitchen that night, to that particular moment when Ichigo bandaged his injured palm, and continued to let it rest on his hand while they talked of an alternative universe where they would still rudely bump into each other.

The actor regretted how he had not removed his hand from the younger man's grasp, because then he wouldn't have trouble imagining something small enough to fit in his hand. It should have been something innocent and tiny like a chick, roosting in the heart of his palm. And then he would close his fingers around it gently, careful not to crush it. Because he had failed to do so then, because he had succumbed to a moment of weakness, all he could now picture was Ichigo's hand in his.

End note:

The places mentioned in this chapter are found in Hakodate, a popular seaside resort town in Hokkaido. I was researching for a trip recently and ended up searching for Hakodate sunsets. It's breathtaking—Japanese streets and snow against the yolk orange sheen of sunset. I hope to go there, squeeze among the tourists, and see it for myself someday!