ext_265180 ([identity profile] thunderwitch.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] tampered2007-10-20 10:17 pm

Log; Complete

When; Oct. 18th, morning
Rating; G
Characters; Cirucci {[livejournal.com profile] thunderwitch} & Orihime {[livejournal.com profile] soten_kisshun}
Summary; After a revelation courtesy Luppi, why don't you get the girl to fix it for you if you think it's so ugly, Cirucci gets Orihime to restore the sign of her pride, missing all this time.
Log;

It was the most wonderful idea. It was the most beautiful, the most amazing idea, and Cirucci Thunderwitch was drunk on it.

Walking was too slow, running was too slow, sonido was too slow, pushing faster and faster until she arrived at Orihime's apartment, taking half a moment to compose herself. She didn't know why it hadn't occured to her, why it hadn't, but it never had, not until last night.

Stop that, you'll make it un-pretty. Luppi had smirked, prying her fingers from her breast where they'd dug in over her scar, speaking of the Espada, the ones she hated above all others. It's already ugly. Everytime she looked at it she was reminded of her disgrace, her shame, knowing that there had once been black ink where now was only discolored, puckered skin. Well... Slow, gentle teasing. Can't she fix it? That girl?

Cirucci's breath had stopped.

"Orihime?" She rapped once on the door, then another, not willing to wait. There was somethign decidedly off about her, too nervous, too excited, too hopeful and far too bitter, standing there with one hand itching to touch the sign of her shame, whether to hide it or caress, even she wasn't sure.

>>>

The red-headed girl sat in her apartment, looking out the window into the light of the morning. It was decidedly more quiet here than it had been before; Tatsuki's loud voice, and jovial actions not around to shatter the silence, and make the space less dreary. Though, the last days had been touched by a little excitement--the zombies, and discovering the fact that Aizen lived upstairs. She'd gone up there for tea; and it seemed so very familiar--a replica of Sombre de Las Noches. But, having tea with him, at least had been enjoyable and given her something to do.

She really missed Tatsuki.

A tiny sigh escaped her lips, as she leaned back into the chair she currently inhabited, closing her eyes. She couldn't allow the lonliness she felt to overtake her. It wasn't all gloom-and-doom, it couldn't be. There was a little darkness now, but something interesting would come along. There was still much to do in this City; she just needed to gain the inspiration to go and find it.

Suddenly, a sound echoed through the stillness, sounding more like the toll of a bell than what it was in actuality. Orihime turned her attention to the door, raising from the chair to go and see who had come calling at this early hour.

And sometimes, the City finds you.

>>>

When the door opened, Cirucci could hardly contain herself. It was so wonderful and amazing and she could possibly even show genuine affection now, reaching for Orihime's hands, clasping them a moment and patting before she simply picked the human girl up by the waist and half twirled before setting her down, purple eyes wide in excitement and delight.

"O~ri~hi~me~" She crooned happily, rocking on her heels, small boots making soft thumps on the floor, her hair curling messily around her face, unbrushed, her uniform somewhat skewed, pulled on in a hurry, one garter looser than the other but she didn't care, not if this girl could fix what was undeniably gone, bring this pride back for her.

"I need you to heal something for me, pretty please?"

>>>

Orihime blinked a little. It wasn't surprising that Cirucci was there, per se, as she saw the fluffy-skirted Arrancar much more than she did a lot of people in the City. What surprised her was the excitement in the Thunderwitch's face; the almost child-like anticipation--like one would see upon the face of those who had just lain eyes on the bounty of Christmas morning. It was the hope of something untold, that could turn any heart to wonderment. But, what could possibly make Cirucci, who normally held a cool smile, and a calm countenance (albeit gentle for the most part) become so overwhelmed with such enthusiasm?

"Sure, Cirucci-san, what is it?" Her words were soft, as usual, and kind. Whatever she needed to heal, it must be important, to make the arrancar woman so joyful. She moved, to allow Cirucci to come farther into her apartment, offering her a place to retire as Orihime used her talents.

>>>

Flouncing in to the human girl's apartment, Cirucci laughed, half skipping and, heaven forbid, twirling on her toes. She turned to face Orihime again.

"Luppi thought of the most amazing thing, you see, darling, and I really, really, want you to help me!" Her small hands went to the breast of her uniform, undoing the snaps with a precision that spoke of experience in taking off that dress for more reasons than to sleep or change clothing, as she spoke baring the scar on her left breast, the slightly discolored patch of puckered skin in the distinct shape of a five.

"What you did for Grimmjow..." Her voice quieted a moment, afraid that perhaps she couldn't, what if she couldn't, her eyes darkening. "Can you put that rank back?" Sharp nails traced along the skin, over scar and the faint imprint of teeth and marks from nail and tongue, her pride and respect stripped away.

But... if she could have it back...

>>>

The girl's eyes widened. So that's what it was. Orihime thought she understood, at least to some extent why the Thunderwitch had been so very excited now to come to see her.

She wanted to get back something she'd lost long ago. A symbol of her pride. A symbol of what she once was, what she used to have. It was a simple task to replace it--a rejection of the damage done to the skin, to retract it to an earlier state--as she had done for Grimmjow in her first moments in Las Noches.

Finally, the girl nodded. "I can do that, Cirucci-san." Her eyes raked over the potchmarked patch of skin, the stripping of the number rather evident upon the pale flesh. She raised her hands to sit infront of it, eyes closed, feeling the familiar warmth leak through her hands, radiating out upon that spot--the pale orange glow glittering in the low light of the apartment. I reject.

>>>

Cirucci bit her bottom lip, and it was nearly imperceptible, but her fingers trembled, whether in excitement or fear it was unable to discern. Her number. She could almost hear Dordonii cautioning her against this, Dordonii was too bound by the rules they'd been forced into, as she was, and yet... this step was so easy for her to take, to want to take. This number was... had been everything to her. It was beautiful, and proud, and it was everything about her that had garnered respect before the skin had been razed, the black mark stripped away. But, now... to have it back...

If she had a heart, it would have swelled, even knowing that she could never breathe a word of it to anyone. If Nnoitra found out, she had no doubt he would kill her. If the other Espada found out, maybe they wouldn't kill her, but they'd mock her, jeer her weakness for needing it, for wanting it, and yet- Still-

She wanted it more than anything.

>>>

Orihime let out a small breath, as the results of her healing began to show. A '5' was appearing slowly but surely out of the area of razed skin, like oil rising to the surface of water. As the orange glow droned on, more and more of the etched calligraphy appeared, until there was no evidence that the number had ever been taken from her at all. The woman laid down her hands, and the light abruptly stopped, the room becoming dim once more.

"...It's finished, Cirucci-san." The girl said in a muted tone, almost reverent. She knew she'd never know the true depth of what the numbers meant to those who had them adorning their flesh beyond the basic fact of rank, and pride. But, it was obvious to all how important it was to the dress-clad Arrancar, so Orihime felt that that fact was enough of a reason for her. She looked up toward the Thunderwitch's face, a smile deeply set upon her own.

>>>

Cirucci's small hand rose, traced the number as a small smirk of a smile quirked on her lips. Nail scraped over the black ink, and she was actually speechless, staring at it as a parent would stare at a child, as a lover would stare at the one they loved, the most caring expression she had ever displayed, but it was soon gone, hidden deep behind pride and haughty importance, reluctantly drawing her hand away from her breast to resnap her dress, white fabric concealing her pride from sight.

"... Don't tell anyone, mm?" She whispered gravely, doing up the last snap. "... If the Espada find out-" She left it hanging, knowing the girl would infer what would happen to her, after all, it was she who treated her more serious wounds once the boys finished using her.

>>>

Orihime nodded once. The other girl needed say no more than that. Orihime knew how the arrancar treated each other in normalcy; over something like this....she didn't even want to think about it.

"I'll keep it our secret, Cirucci-san." The smile she had gained a good bit of warmth, as she stood from where she was sitting. She would have kept the secret anyway, but after seeing Cirucci's expression when she realized the number was once again upon her breast, she felt there was an even greater reason this time. Something that could give her that much happiness--and make her act and feel in ways that Orihime never had seen (or thought she would ever see) before--needed to be preserved.

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