Okay so first off, is spell Ishida as Uryuu, not as Uryu. You can do it either way but I picked Uryuu in acknowledgement of the translation and accent mark I can't do.

Also this takes place at Halloween at a lavish Masquerade party i have no reasonable explanation for. I'm thinking this is going to be about 3-5 chapters, kind of the same length as Almost Lovers.

Fingering the edge of her dress, Tatsuki Aswari could not help but realize that this was a terrible terrible idea.

It was not just that she was at a costume party, which she was. It was far more that aside from the woman next to her, she had no idea who anyone was. She would have thought a piece of fabric would not have made it impossible to see someone's identity but the truth was that it was not simply a piece of fabric. It was fabric and lighting and the cloths she knew her friends would never be caught dead in had it not been the fact it was Halloween. Orihime had insisted that the moment they walked through the doors they split up, a decision that Tatsuki was seriously regretting agreeing to go along with.

"Orihime I don't think--" she began.

"Tatsuki you're gonna be fine!" Orihime said with a smile, "okay! I'll see you later!"

Tatsuki watched Orihime run off with a sinking feeling churning in her stomach. This idea was even worse than when she had originally agreed to it. All she wanted to do was snatch her best friend back and leave. She hated parties like this, and yet here she was, stuck at one. Part of her told her to leave, to just go home. She could lie about it all later. But the larger part of her demanded she stayed. She was going to go through the archway ahead, into the ballroom and she was going to attend this party. The nerves in her stomach increased tenfold at the thought of putting one foot in front of the other.

So that was exactly what she did.

Tatsuki was many things, but she never had been and never would be a coward.

Stepping through the archway, she stepped out of her regular life and into something that looked like it belonged in a dream. Gold and white decorated the room, a canvas to the brilliant costumes. These were not like any costumes she had seen before. These were works of art, living, breathing masterpieces that moved with grace she knew she could never fully replicate. She was sure that Ichigo himself could be standing next to her and she would not have recognized him. Tatsuki shook her head, trying to clear it but found it impossible. The warmth of the room, the glow of the lights, the array of colors, it was all overwhelming. For a moment she felt as though she had a neon sign above her that said she did not belong, as she caught eyes darting towards her and then returning to their partners.

It was a moment until she realized the eyes were mostly male.

She knew her cheeks were flushed where her mask exposed them at the exact same time she cursed her best friend for picking her dress for the party. Orihime's was a creation of white and gold silk that seemed to have been made for her. It hid what needed to be hid and allowed the rest to be displayed to its full potential. It had taken her a moment, maybe two, to find the thing. Tatsuki, on the other hand, was far more picky. Every dress was too frilly, too flouncy, too--too wrong for her. It had taken her the whole day before she had announced furiously she was going home and Orihime had found the dress she currently found herself poured into.

"Its a masquerade," she muttered, echoing what Orihime had joyously called to her,"no-one's supposed to know its you."

She told herself she agreed to the dress to get out of more shopping, not because of how it looked. Now she was wishing she had stuck around a bit longer to find a dress that was a bit more successful at telling people who she was: that she was someone they didn't want to mess with. This dress was clearly conveying the wrong message.

The dress was blue and green and gold, held up by narrow straps. The fabric was textured as well, it was crepey, the dress looking as though someone had stolen a wave to create the dress. The bust was low enough to expose the upper swells of her breasts and the back sat well below her shoulder blades. Though snug on her bodice, the dress fell to the floor in a wave of fabric. The dress was sheer, though, the slip underneath covered what needed to be. But it left most of her legs bare, if one looked hard enough, something that people seemed more than willing to do.

Her hair had been pulled back and the mask on her face was silver. The only other pieces of color in her ensemble were the ruby earrings dangling from her lobes and the red shoes on her feet. Lower than most heels, they still caught her eye as they peeped out from underneath her dress. But the kicker of the ensemble was the fact she was in makeup, the one thing she knew would really hide her identity. The most masking part of that was the red on her lips. The ruby lipstick had tasted odd when she had put it on but the transformation had been instant. Between the dress, the mask and the lipstick, she looked nothing like herself.

Taking a deep breath, Tatsuki forced herself further into the room, trying not to feel as if she was an outsider. She had wanted to look at least partially like everyone else but now she would be happy just to not be stared at like some piece of meat. Hopefully another woman would come in and their attention would be directed elsewhere. Though trying to not to be aware of the eyes on her, she glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes caught those of a man standing across the room at the moment his eyes found hers.

Dressed all in black, he should not have caught her eye. In fact, she didn't think he would have had he not been glancing at her. She looked at him more carefully. Though dressed in black, the suit he wore was not cut like the others. It was more snug on the bottom. The top half was cut longer in the back, more like the old fashioned frock coats she had seen in school books. A white cravat was on his chest, held there by a silver object that looked like a cross and a circle. His mask was not black though but rather a pale blue, his eyes beneath it, the color of the midnight sky. Tatsuki swallowed thickly, her fingers tightening in the fabric of her gown as she quickly looked away from his eyes before glancing back up once more.

Part of her wanted him to look over at her, part of her wanted him to disappear back into the crowd. Part of her wanted him to come over. What troubled her the most was that she wasn't sure which she really wanted to happen.

Uryuu glanced up again, just to make sure he was not imagining things. But no, the woman in the wave like dress glanced up at him again before looking down, her cheeks still stained a faint pink. He had seen her across the room, her dress separating her from the rest of the crowd. He was always one for frills and ruffles but the sight of such a deceptively simple dress, his eyes had been caught. He found himself glancing over twice at her. He simply hadn't expected her to look back at him. But she had, her eyes meeting his before she blushed darker and looked down again. He found himself intrigued, despite the fact he had sworn he was only going to stay for five minutes.

He had been dragged there, unsurprisingly. And he had sworn he was going to stay long enough to have enough evidence to give a believable lie the next day. He had donned his mask and gone into the room, looking around at the people gathered there. Unfortunately some of the costumes had been so intriguing he had wandered deeper into the room, his eyes effortlessly finding the special stitches and fabrics. And then he had glanced up and seen the woman in the dress that looked like she had stolen the sea. It was so simple, deceptively simple, and yet he had found himself drawn to it. To the woman who wore it. And she had looked back at him. Uryuu was not entirely sure what to do with that.

Tatsuki turned around, her cheeks burning. She had to find Orihime. Or someone. Someone who could tell her what the hell she was supposed to do. Was she supposed to let him come to her? Was she supposed to walk over to him? Tatsuki glanced over her shoulder to see him moving slowly through the crowd. He was coming over. Her feet moved automatically towards him. It seemed silly to just stand there and wait for him to come to her. As he approached she realized how tall he was. Taller than her. He also moved very fluidly, navigating the crowd rather seamlessly. His hair was held off his face, in a style she couldn't remember seeing worn by the boys in her class. But then again, her hair was pulled back and pinned so much she knew it didn't look anything like she normally did. Finally they reached each other.

And kept walking right by.

Tatsuki inwardly groaned as her feet took her right by the boy. She didn't know if he stopped, only that she kept going with no destination in mind except far away. She had no idea what she would have said to him anyway and the last thing she wanted to do was make an outright fool of herself. So she moved into the crowd of people milling around and hoped that maybe if they swallowed her whole, she could pretend it was the ground.

Uryuu's feet slowed as he reached the girl but she walked right past him, authority in her every step. His own feet paused after she moved past him as he turned around to watch her walk away. He had been sure she was walking towards him, their eyes had met after all. But then she just kept walking right by. In spite of that, as Uryuu watched her move quickly through the crowds, he could not help but be amused by what happened. For the first time all night, he felt like smiling as he watched her move past him. Uryuu was a man rarely intrigued, but that was exactly what he found himself. Very very intrigued.

He watched her as she made her way through the crowd until he lost sight of her. For a moment he considered leaving. But there was something about her, something that made him move through the crowd to find her. She wasn't hard to spot at all, the dress she wore was ingrained in his memory. He found her quite easily, off in one of the quieter sections of the room, standing by the windows with her eyes out on the city. For a moment he considered turning around and walking away. But he did not. He moved forward, he moved towards her.

Though her back was to the room, Tatsuki heard someone approaching. A quick glance behind her and she felt her eyes widened.

It was the man in the blue mask.

He was too close for her to leave that quickly. Not to mention the only place to go was back into the thick of the party and that was the last place she ever wanted to be. So she had no choice, no time to make one either as he walked over to where she was standing. Tatsuki gulped and turned around, looking out the window longingly at the world outside as she heard him approach. Finally he was nearby, just past her right side. Before she could think about leaving again, he spoke.

"I suppose you do not like parties like this," he said.

Uryuu watched as her spine became erect. He was just glad that he was not going to have to grab her, he thought for a moment she was going to throw herself out the window. But she didn't Instead she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and turned around to face him.

He hadn't realized how short she was.

Not tiny, but she was certainly petite. Even so he could see the definition in her arms, the way she held herself. She held herself like someone who was aware of their body. He would have guessed she was a dancer or a fighter, though from the way she raised her chin to look at him, defiance in her eyes, he decided if it came down to it he'd put his money on fighter. She looked up at him, as if she was used to looking into the eyes of men taller than her.

"Parties like this? No, can't stand them," she said, "not that its not fun to be someone else for a night," she added quickly.

"Oh?" he looked at her, intrigued, "do you not like who you are?"

"No, its not that--" she sighed, trailing off, feeling unsettlingly feminine.

"What is it?" he asked. She looked at him.

"I have no idea who you are."

They both knew that was the truth. Neither had any idea who the other was, that was the whole point of the party. Even if behind their masks they were still the same people, the masks made it seem as though they were not. To everyone else in the room, she was the girl in the wave dress and he was the man in the black suit. Nothing more, nothing less. At the moment, to each other, that was all they were. And for some reason, the fact was oddly comforting.

"I have no idea who you are either," he said, "but I don't like these parties any more than you do. You look like you could use an ear," he said, "and so could I."

"Oh really?" Tatsuki put her hands on her hips, "why do you need an ear?"

"I just found out the girl who I was in love with for years will never love me back," he said, "there's another man," Tatsuki lowered her hands, "its like," he shook his head, "its like she's the sun. But this other man, he makes her shine in a way that none of us ever could."

"Sounds nauseating," Tatsuki said.

"It is," Uryuu agreed, "but I'm trying to be happy for her. Even if all I want to do is kill the guy with my bare hands."

"Try it," Tatsuki advised, "maybe it will work."

"It won't," he said, "believe me, I've tried."

"Bummer," she said, "well if it makes you feel any better, I got dragged to this thing by my only friend in the world right now."

"Only one? Did you kill the others with your bare hands?" he asked, his tone dry.

"No," she said with a smile, "I wish," she added, her voice turning serious, "no," she took a breath, "they left me," he looked at her, "just left. Never told me why, not really. They just went away. And you know what the real kicker of it is?" he shook his head, "they came back. Like everything was okay now. Like they hadn't just up and gone when I needed them the most. You know, I'd been there for everything. Every tear, every missed class, everything. I was there. And then, just suddenly, I was nothing. Nothing but someone to be put aside."

"That sounds terrible," he said, "friends should be people you can depend on."

"Yeah, people who don't make you wear things like this," she said motioning to her dress.

Uryuu wished he could find the words to tell her that she looked pretty in that dress. But they seemed to fail him. It was so easy to talk to her, easy to tell her what he hadn't been able to tell anyone else. And it seemed as though the same was true for her. He doubted she had told her friends what she felt like, that it felt as though she had abandoned them, anymore than he had told the people he cared about how it felt to have the girl he loved choose someone else.

"Do you dance?" she asked abruptly.

"No," he said automatically.

"Great," she said grabbing his hand, "lets go."

Uryuus eyes widened as she grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the dance floor. He quickly caught up with her, but allowed her to keep his wrist in her grasp. She marched them onto the dance floor with determination that made him think that she did not really know how to dance either. But, surprisingly enough, when they got there she turned to him on the outskirts of the floor and swept a critical eye over him as the song finished and people stopped to clap politely. The beat began, a medium tempo song and she stepped close to him, putting one hand on his shoulder.

"Now, you put your hand--" she began.

That was as far as she got before his hand was at her waist, the other grasping her free hand and he began to move them across the floor to the music. She followed his lead precisely, while maintaining the illusion that she was doing nothing more than floating.

"You said you couldn't dance," she said.

"I said I did not dance," he told her, "not that I couldn't. My father insisted I learn."

"My parents as well," she said, "lessons?"

"Private," he replied, "you?"

"Private. I wouldn't have been caught dead at a dance studio."

He smiled at that as they continued to move along the floor, lapsing in and out of an oddly easy silence. Both knew they had clues to who the other was, both were aware it would probably not take much to figure out who the other was. But neither felt the desire to do anything of the sort. It was nice, to pretend that they were perfect strangers. That before their eyes met they hadn't ever met before. As Uryuu moved them to the music he looked down at her and asked another question, though it was not a fight to strike up the conversation once more.

"So you would never be caught dead in a dance studio," Uryuu said looking down at her, "would you be caught dead dancing?"

"Not without a mask," she said, "or, at the very least a reason. I never understood people who danced for no reason."

"What are your thoughts on a victory dance?" he asked.

"Stupid," Tatsuki replied promptly, "and very telling as well. If you have to gloat, then you didn't really win the fight at all."

"How very confucian of you," he said.

Tatsuki raised an eyebrow at that. Most people their age in school didn't know confucian philosophy, not enough to identify it in everyday life. The boy she was dancing with was a riddle of things, he was a puzzle. Part of her was glad she didn't know who he was. She imagined if she had already had a preconceived notion of him, she would be questioning everything. Now, pretending he was nothing more than stranger, it was nice to meet someone who was new. Who seemed different than the boys she knew. For the first time in a while Tatsuki found she didn't want to hit him.

As they moved, Tatsuki slowly became aware of just how nice it felt to be dancing with him. She kept up with the beat and his steps, following him like the lessons had trained her to. But what felt nice was the subtle things. The way his hand felt on her back, not too high, not too low. And he did not let it just rest, his fingers were firm against her skin, warm against her skin. His other hand was warm in hers as well and oddly smooth. She had felt his other hand when she grabbed his wrist and that was calloused. Though she found it odd, she pushed it aside, trying to focus instead on something else.

But all that came to mind was that she did not really mind that people were looking at her anymore.

Uryuu was also rather surprised at the girl he danced with. Not just that she danced rather well, but also how she danced. She clearly was trained but the way she moved so naturally, it was clear she was trained in another kind of movement, one that required her to be quick on her feet. From the callouses on her hands, he was certain she was a fighter. Quickly he pulled her a bit closer and pushed her out, turning his wrist. She seamlessly spun around before coming back to where he was, her hand going back to her shoulder. She did not miss a beat throughout the move, executing it perfectly.

"So I take it you are a fighter," he said.

"I'm a damn good fighter," she replied, "what about you? Do you fight?"

"When the occasion calls for it," he told her.

She laughed outright at that. She could imagine a boy who danced and lost girls to others would only fight when the occasion called for it. He looked at her curiously.

"I'm just wondering what kind of occasion calls for it. I'm guessing you're a fight-only-to-save-the-world kind of guy."

Uryuu smiled. That as exactly the kind of guy he was. The calmest of the friends, that was what Ulquiorra had called him. That was what he was. At least, on the outside.

"My teacher was very adamant about control," he said, "learning when not to fight was just as important as learning how to."

"So I'm guessing you don't enter com--you don't spar," she said quickly.

"I did not say I fought hand to hand," he told her.

"So you're a weapons kind of guy," she said. He nodded, "so tell me, Mr. Weapons, what happens when they're all gone?"

"Punch the opponent, go and get them back," he deadpanned.

"Well you sound like quite the tactical genius," she said.

He smiled but didn't tell her she was wrong. Tatsuki had a feeling she wasn't. He seemed like the kind of guy that could plan an attack and execute it in a battle. They were quiet once more as they continued to move to the next song, though it was a much slower one. The mood on the dance floor slowly became romantic. Despite the company, Tatsuki felt herself slightly disgusted by the couples swaying side by side next to them.

"Its kind of silly to make such an artificial moment," she said.

"I agree," Uryuu replied, "though I'm sure there are photographs to prove you wrong."

"Yeah, I know," she said, "I always thought it'd be more fun for something spontaneous to happen."

"Like dancing with a stranger?" Uryuu said, surprised at his own boldness.

"Yes," she said, matching his tone.

He smiled at that, a gesture she could not help but return. He had a nice smile as well, one that seemed to show more in his midnight eyes then it did on his lips.

The rest of the night was little more than a blur. It seemed like no time at all passed to either of them. They spoke, they danced, but neither revealed any superficial detail that would lead the other to realize their identity outright. But as time wore on, it got closer to midnight, when the party goers would take off their masks. Though they kept up the conversation, their eyes found their way to the clock more and more. Finally, the music stopped.

"Ladies and Gentlemen--" the man began.

Tatsuki turned to her mysterious partner. She had sworn never to be a coward, fought not to be one. But she had never been more scared to let someone see her face in her entire life. This guy, he knew that she had taken dance lessons, that she felt abandoned, that it was her in this get up. He would know that and when she took off her mask, he'd know who everyone else thought she was. She couldn't do that. She couldn't have anyone associating who she let herself be tonight with who she was the rest of the time. He looked down at her as she took a deep breath and raised her eyes to his.

"You know, I, I don't think we should do this," she took a step back, "so, um, yeah. I'll see you around--if I know you. But whatever, because, you know, we won't know--" she shook her head, "I'll see you around."

Picking up the blue of her skirts she turned and pushed her way through the crowd towards the exit. Uryuu watched her run, knowing it was hopeless for him to he was not sure he wanted to go after her. He did not think that her knowing who he was was that brilliant of an idea either. She knew things about him now--things he did not want anyone knowing. He could have followed her, but it would mean nothing. She did not want him to know who she was and he was going to have to respect that. He could not force her to reveal anything, no matter how much he wanted to hear who she was from her lips. Even if he did catch her, it would mean nothing.

She would already be gone.

"Goodbye," Uryuu murmured.

All around him, people pulled off their masks, laughing at the people they were in the company of. Uryuu did not reach for his, allowing the illusion to remain. He had no-one he particularly wanted to show his face to anyway. Down the street, Tatsuki leaned against the building, catching her breath. Reaching up she yanked her mask off, the ribbons snapping at the harsh gesture. Holding the fabric in her hands, she looked at the lace and squeezed her eyes shut.

If this was a fairy tale then being the Princess officially sucked.

So the Confucius reference is to the principle of self betterment. Where the ideal person finds what they are looking for within themselves rather than in the outside world. .

This is my first Uryuu/Tatsuki fic.

Please review! You read the chapter, I hope you liked it! Please let me know! But don't be flaming about any other couples. I don't care. Focus on this awesome crack! ship!

Please review!