Chapter Text
As the group stumbled in the alleyway, Urahara cheerfully clapped his hands.
“Ladies, I’ve opened a portal directly to my shop. How about we relocate this bachelorette madness to a more… uh… controlled environment?”
“Controlled?” Rukia hiccupped, still holding her phone. “You mean boozier.”
“Exactly,” Urahara grinned. “Let’s go!”
The portal shimmered open, and the group—Rukia, Orihime, Tatsuki, Rangiku, Chizuru, and Riruka—stumbled through, still riding the high of cosmic near-death. On the other side, the cozy interior of the Urahara Shop awaited them, complete with dim lighting and a stack of mismatched futons in the corner.
“Welcome to Club Kisuke!” Urahara announced, dramatically spreading his arms. “We’ve got sake, snacks, and entertainment galore. You’re free to continue your bachelorette party here!”
“Hell yeah!” Rangiku yelled, immediately snatching a bottle of sake from a nearby table and popping it open.
“This is perfect,” Orihime said dreamily, looking around the shop. “It’s, like… rustic chic.”
“I LOVE IT,” Rukia shouted, spinning around with her phone in hand. “#PartyInTheShop!”
Urahara disappeared behind a curtain and reappeared moments later dragging a karaoke machine. “I thought this might liven things up,” he said with a sly grin.
“Oh my god,” Chizuru said, her eyes lighting up as she grabbed the mic. “This is my moment. Get ready, ladies.”
“Get ready to regret your eardrums,” Tatsuki quipped, but she was smiling as she flopped onto a futon.
The party ramped up quickly. Rangiku and Orihime, now fully immersed in their drunken haze, were belting out duets to old love ballads while Chizuru provided backup vocals that were more screaming than singing. Riruka tried to pull Rukia into a dance-off, but Rukia was too busy livestreaming.
Urahara stood to the side, sipping tea from a cup that definitely didn’t contain tea, and occasionally tossing out karaoke suggestions.
Then, as if on cue, the exhaustion of the day hit them like a freight train. One by one, the girls collapsed where they stood, sprawled across the futons and shop floor.
“Out like lights,” Urahara chuckled, carefully stepping over the unconscious bodies.
At that moment, Yoruichi appeared in the doorway, raising an eyebrow at the scene. “What happened here?”
Urahara shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. “They needed a break. I just… facilitated it.”
Yoruichi crossed her arms. “You drugged them, didn’t you?”
“Drugged?!” Urahara gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Yoruichi-san, I would never! I simply… provided an environment so comfortable, so relaxing, that their bodies naturally gave in to exhaustion.”
“Uh-huh,” Yoruichi said, clearly unimpressed.
Urahara leaned closer, his grin widening. “Let’s just say, they’ll wake up tomorrow feeling refreshed. And hopefully too hungover to remember how close they came to annihilating the universe.”
The next morning, Orihime stirred awake with a groan, clutching her head as a sharp, pounding headache threatened to split her skull. She blinked blearily, squinting against the morning light spilling through the cracks in the blinds.
“This… doesn’t look like my apartment,” she muttered, rubbing her temples.
As her vision adjusted, the scene before her came into focus. The girls were scattered around the room like casualties of an all-night war. Rukia was snoring softly with her phone still clutched in her hand, the screen faintly glowing. Tatsuki was sprawled out on her back, one arm draped over her face. Rangiku was lying face-down on the floor, an empty sake bottle nestled lovingly in her arms like a teddy bear. Chizuru had somehow ended up half under a futon. And that was probably Riruka's foot sticking out under those blankets.
Orihime’s brow furrowed as she tried to piece together how they’d ended up here. “This… isn’t… my apartment,” she repeated to herself, slower this time.
Carefully, she stood up, her movements sluggish as she tried not to wake the others. Her bare feet padded quietly across the tatami mats as she slipped out of the room, the aroma of coffee guiding her toward the kitchen.
As she entered, she was greeted by the sight of Urahara and Yoruichi sitting at the table, casually eating breakfast. Urahara was cheerfully munching on something while Yoruichi sipped her coffee.
“Good morning, Inoue-san!” Urahara said brightly, his tone so chipper it made her headache worse.
She winced, clutching her head. “Good… morning?”
Yoruichi glanced up, smirking. “Rough night, huh? Here, sit down.” She gestured to the chair across from her, sliding a mug of steaming coffee toward Orihime.
Orihime hesitated before sinking into the chair, cradling the mug in her hands. “Thank you… um… how did we get here? And why?”
Urahara chuckled, adjusting his hat. “Well, after nearly unraveling the fabric of reality with a black hole, I thought it best to bring the party to a less… destructive location.”
Yoruichi snorted. “By less destructive, he means here, where he can keep an eye on you and ensure you don’t accidentally summon Satan or something.”
Orihime blinked, her headache making it hard to process their words. “We… did what?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Urahara said, waving her concern away. “All’s well that ends well! Besides, you all seemed to enjoy yourselves, and that’s what matters, right?”
Orihime frowned, her gaze dropping to the coffee in her hands. “I’m not sure Ichigo would agree…”
“Oh, Ichigo.” Urahara chuckled. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear about the bachelorette party that almost ended existence as we know it.”
Yoruichi grinned. “Don’t worry. He’ll probably just lecture you for three hours and then hug you or something. That’s his style, isn’t it?”
Orihime groaned, burying her face in her hands. “This was supposed to be a normal party…”
Yoruichi laughed, patting her on the back. “Sweetheart, there’s nothing normal about you or your friends. But that’s what makes it fun.”
Orihime peeked up at her, her expression torn between embarrassment and resignation. “Do you think the others will be okay when they wake up?”
“They’ll survive,” Urahara said. “Though I’d suggest a strong breakfast and some water. Maybe hide the sake this time.”
Orihime managed a small smile, sipping her coffee. “Thank you… for taking care of us.”
Urahara tipped his hat with a mischievous grin. “Always happy to help. Besides, you ladies are endlessly entertaining. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Just then, Rukia waddled into the kitchen, looking like she had been dragged through a battlefield. Her hair was sticking up in random directions and her pregnant belly seemed to accentuate the pure exhaustion etched across her face. She plopped into a chair with a groan, clutching her head.
“Why is my mouth so dry?” she muttered hoarsely, grabbing the mug in front of her and taking a long sip of coffee without even asking whose it was.
“Good morning, Rukia-san!” Urahara said, his voice still annoyingly cheerful. “How’s the mom-to-be feeling after last night’s… festivities?”
“Like someone used Senbonzakura on my insides,” she deadpanned, glaring at him over the rim of the mug. “And stop talking so loudly, or I’ll use it on yours.”
Yoruichi chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “You’re looking radiant, as always.”
Rukia shot her a glare. “If ‘radiant’ means I look like a Hollow chewed me up and spat me out, then sure.” She rubbed her temples. “I don’t even remember how we got here. Is everyone still alive?”
“More or less. Though I'm not so sure about Hirako-taichō” Urahara murmered the last part more to himself, pouring her another cup of coffee
Rukia snorted but said nothing, sipping her coffee. After a moment, she pulled out her phone and squinted at the screen.
“What the hell is this?” she muttered, her thumb swiping as she stared at her notifications.
Orihime leaned over curiously. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve got about 300 new followers on social media,” Rukia said, her voice equal parts baffled and horrified. “And a message from Renji asking why I’m trending. What the hell did I do?”
Yoruichi burst out laughing.
Rukia read aloud, her voice dripping with disbelief. “‘#BlackHoleBachelorette, #PregnantAndFabulous, #RukiaVsTheVoid, #SenkaimonSelfies…’” She glared at Urahara.
“Don't look at me like that. I was not involved in those hashtags” Urahara said innocently.
She stared again at her phone like it had personally insulted her, her thumb frozen over the screen. “What… the hell is this?”
Orihime, peeking over her shoulder, paled as she caught sight of the livestream. “Oh no… oh no, no, no. Is that—oh my god, is that me?”
“Yup,” Rukia replied grimly, her voice hollow. “And there’s more. So much more.”
Orihime whimpered. “What did we do?”
Rukia scrolled through the chaos on her phone, her face cycling through horror, embarrassment, and resignation. “There’s a video of a black hole… wait, is that Aizen? Oh god, Orihime, you’re naked on my brother!”
Orihime gasped and clutched her head, her headache intensifying. “I don’t remember any of this! Why am I naked?!”
Rukia didn’t respond, clicking on another video. Her face twisted in confusion. “Wait, is this Grimmjow fighting a demon? Where even were we?”
“I have no idea!” Orihime wailed.
“There a video of you riding a Hollow like a mechanical bull?!”
Orihime turned as pale as the porcelain teacup on the table. “No. That can’t be real. Tell me that’s not real!”
“Oh, it’s real,” Rukia said flatly, her finger hovering over the video. “And it’s in 4k.”
Orihime dropped her head onto the table with a groan. “I can’t go home. I’ll just stay here forever.”
Rukia sighed, setting her phone down for a moment. “It’s just a matter of time before everyone sees this. It’s out there. We’re doomed.”
As the morning sun climbed higher, the rest of the group began to stir. The groans and curses of hangovers filled the air as Tatsuki clutched her head like it was about to roll off her shoulders. Rangiku mumbled something about never drinking again, while Riruka woke up halfway on top of Chizuru, who was drooling in her sleep.
Rukia, still scrolling through her phone, sighed. “Good morning, disasters. You might want to sit down for this.”
Tatsuki rubbed her temples and glared. “Why? What happened? Why do I feel like I got run over by a Menos Grande?”
Orihime, already seated with her coffee, pointed weakly at Rukia’s phone. “We… uh… might have livestreamed… everything.”
Rangiku sat up. “Everything? What do you mean everything?”
“Everything,” Rukia said flatly, clicking through the videos again. “From the black hole to the gillian rodeo to… whatever the hell this is,” she said, holding up her phone.
Rangiku squinted at the screen. “Is that me opening a gate to Hueco Mundo?”
“Oh, it gets worse,” Rukia muttered, swiping to the next video.
Tatsuki sat up straighter as fragmented memories started to hit her like a freight train. “Wait… the law paper! Muffin Bitch Sakura! That’s why we did this!”
“Oh god,” Orihime moaned, burying her face in her hands. “We did go looking for that stupid paper, didn’t we?”
“Yup,” Riruka said grimly. “And in the process, Rangiku opened a gate to Hueco Mundo.”
Rangiku gasped. “That explains Grimmjow! He saved us!”
“And then we went to Nel and Halibel,” Tatsuki added, her eyes widening. “Oh god, I remember the drinks. Why were there so many drinks?!”
Rukia grimaced. “And let’s not forget you riding a Gillian, Orihime.”
Orihime groaned louder. “Stop bringing that up!”
Chizuru, now awake and grinning like an idiot, cackled. “She rode it like a pro though!”
“And then,” Rukia continued, ignoring her, “Rangiku opened a gate to Hell.”
The room went silent as they all stared at Rangiku. She blinked, her hair disheveled. “I mean, I might have done that. It’s a blur.”
“You did,” Rukia confirmed, scrolling to a video. “And then another gate to some other dimension—no idea where that was—and then another to the Soul King’s Realm.”
Riruka perked up slightly. “Oh, but we didn’t go there, right? Because you opened a Senkaimon to Soul Society instead.”
“True,” Rukia said, leaning back in her chair. “And that’s when we wrecked Mayuri’s lab.”
Tatsuki winced. "We trashed everything.”
“And then we ruined my brother’s koi pond,” Rukia added, her tone dark.
“Oh, right,” Rangiku said sheepishly. “That was before Orihime kneed him into the noble jewels.”
Orihime looked like she might cry. “I didn’t mean to! I slipped!”
Chizuru, still barely awake, smirked. “Slipped right into greatness.”
Rukia rolled her eyes and continued. “Then, Urahara saved us from Byakuya’s wrath. And then…”
The room went quiet again as the memories hit everyone at once.
“Oh my god,” Riruka whispered. “The black hole.”
“Yup,” Rukia said. “Thanks to you, Rangiku.”
Rangiku pouted. “I just wanted to prove Urahara wasn’t so smart. Turns out he is.”
“And then Aizen saved us” Rukia finished, slumping into her seat. “We literally had to rely on Aizen Sousuke to save the goddamn universe.”
Orihime, perched awkwardly on the edge of her seat, fiddled with the hem of her shirt as her eyes darted nervously to Rukia, who was glaring at her phone.
Rangiku broke the silence, stretching with a lazy grin. “You know, for a night that involved a black hole, Aizen, and Grimmjow fist-fighting an actual demon, I’d say we did okay. No arrests, no fatalities.” She paused. “Though I think we emotionally scarred Byakuya.”
“We also livestreamed the whole thing. It’s just a matter of time before everyone finds out.” Rukia shot a glance at Orihime. “Including Ichigo.”
Orihime flinched so hard she nearly spilled her tea. “Do you think he saw it? Oh no, what if he’s upset? Or—or worse, what if he’s disappointed?”
Tatsuki snorted. “Honestly, if he is mad, it’s his fault. This all started because of Muffin Bitch Sakura.”
Orihime tilted her head. “You think so?”
Tatsuki scoffed. “Of course. Muffins are the ultimate passive-aggressive power move. She’s marking her territory, and Ichigo’s too oblivious to see it.”
“Muffins are basically edible threats,” Rangiku added, swirling her tea like it was a fine wine. “It’s like, ‘Here, have a baked good while I steal your fiancé.’ Classic bitch move.”
Rukia nodded solemnly. “It’s psychological warfare disguised in pastry form. You don’t have to explain anything to Ichigo.”
Orihime blinked, trying to process the idea that baked goods could be weapons of mass manipulation. “I… I never thought of it like that.”
Rukia leaned back with a sly smile. “Speaking of Ichigo, you still haven’t told me how he proposed. Spill it.”
"Yeah." Tatsuki said. "You didn't tell me either. You're always saying that you'll tell me some other time."
Orihime fidgeted nervously under the others’ expectant stares, her hands twisting in her lap.
Rukia raised her eyebrows, her patience hanging by a thread.
“Just tell us already.”
Orihime flushed a deep red and waved her hands frantically. “I—I can’t! I promised not to tell anyone. Everyone who was there had to swear!”
Rangiku tilted her head, giving Orihime a sly smile. “Swear to who? Ichigo?”
Orihime squirmed, looking like she wanted to melt into the floor. “It wasn’t Ichigo… it was Uryuu-kun’s dad.”
Tatsuki blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
Rukia leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “Why would Uryuu’s dad need to be involved in Ichigo’s proposal?”
Orihime froze, realizing she’d already let too much slip. “Uh… well… there were complications.”
Rangiku smirked. “Go on, Orihime. What kind of complications? Spill.”
Orihime groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I can’t! I’ll get in trouble!”
Tatsuki rolled her eyes. “What kind of trouble? What’s he gonna do?”
Orihime peeked through her fingers, her face bright red. “He did threaten something about property liability if anyone talked…”
Rukia sighed. “Orihime, you’re not making sense. Just… give us one detail. Something.”
Orihime hesitated, her gaze darting around the room. Finally, she whispered, “There was… a helicopter. And German chanting.”
Rangiku raised an eyebrow. “A helicopter?”
Orihime shifted uncomfortably. “It… it didn’t land right. Urahara-san said it would, but then it tipped over. There was an explosion. And Ishida-san got really mad because it scorched his lawn.”
Rukia stared at her. “Why was Urahara involved?”
Orihime winced. “He… he built the ring box. It was supposed to open with a button, but… it kind of…” She trailed off.
Tatsuki leaned in, her voice sharp. “What, Orihime? What happened?”
Orihime sighed, defeated. “It exploded.”
“Exploded?!” Rukia exclaimed.
Orihime nodded miserably. “It was minor! Just a little explosion. But it knocked Ichigo into a-” she held her mouth. "Oh God I already told too much."
Rangiku snorted, barely holding in her laughter. “This sounds like the worst proposal in history.”
Orihime shook her head frantically. “No! It was… it was really sweet!”
Tatsuki raised an eyebrow. “Sweet? You just said Ichigo got blown up. How’s that sweet?”
Orihime fidgeted again. “Well… there was a cake.”
“A cake?” Rukia repeated, her skepticism clear.
Orihime nodded quickly. “But it was… um… it wasn’t supposed to fall.”
Rangiku slapped the table, laughing now. “What else happened?!”
Orihime’s face turned even redder. “Kenpachi-san showed up. He thought it was a wedding and got mad that no one invited him. And then… well… the helicopter almost hit him.” She clamped her hands over her mouth, realizing she’d gone too far. “I can’t say more! I promised Ishida-san I wouldn’t talk about it!”
Rukia was shaking her head. “And you really think it was sweet?”
Orihime nodded earnestly and smiled. “Yes! Ichigo got down on one knee!”
But that is a story for another time.