The Next Top Model: Soul Society

  Chapter 25: Classics Photo Shoot

  The sound of hammering echoed across Seireitei just as dawn broke that morning, sending a certain Quincy's hangover headache to a new level.

  At the site of the noise was Ray Migel, in jeans and a sesame colored cotton shirt, standing with Ikkaku and Hisagi as he oversaw the construction of the three outdoor sets. His assistant ran up to him as he looked over the crews already sweltering in the day's early heat.

  "The set dresser needs your decisions," the assistant said, bowing quickly to the two shinigami.

  "We're still waiting on Kensei," Ray said.

  Hisagi and Ikkaku looked to each other.

  "He's not coming," Hisagi said.

  "What?" Ray put his hands on his hips. "No one told me that. We have to have a third! We'll be set to shoot in a few hours." He looked to Rukongai in the distance. "I can't believe this place hasn't got a single talent agency. Why no Kensei?"

  Hisagi cleared his throat. "Cracked ribs."

  "We need a third." Ray looked around, then recalled something. "A guy gave me his phone number before we left Tokyo ... but he wanted to judge, not model. Definitely a type." He sighed, mentally wincing at the thought of Grimmjow. "Do you two know anyone who could fill in?"

  Hisagi shrugged, looking to Ikkaku. "What about Ichigo or Renji?"

  Ray shook his head. "They judged; Tara would never allow it."

  "Ahem," the assistant said, looking hintingly to Ray.

  Ray nodded, flipping through the pages on his clipboard. "Hisagi, let's see your legs."

  Hisagi took a step back, hand going to his side, only to recall he was unarmed. "My legs? Why?"

  Ikkaku snickered, pointing at him.

  Ray pointed at Ikkaku. "Now that, that was perfect, Ikkaku."

  Ikkaku glared at Ray. "Perfect for what?"

  Ray's attention was back on Hisagi. "Up with the skirts. Let's see your legs."

  "It's not a skirt!" Hisagi snapped. "They're hakama pants."

  Ray bobbed his head to each side. "I didn't realize you both were in the military here."

  Ikkaku and Hisagi crossed their arms over their chests.

  "What of it?" Ikkaku asked.

  Ray grinned. "I didn't know we were so close to the military base." He pointed a pen at Hisagi's pants. "Let's see your legs."

  "Hell, no," Hisagi maintained.

  Ray shrugged and crossed something off on the clipboard. "That's a no to Robin Hood." He nodded to Ikkaku. "You're already barefoot, that's a plus."

  Ikkaku raised an eyebrow suspiciously at Hisagi.

  Hisagi frowned. "What about his legs?"

  "He'll be fine," Ray mumbled, looking at his clipboard as his assistant grew anxious. "Okay, do you two know anyone else who can stand in for Kensei?"

  After a moment, Ikkaku nodded. "I'll get you someone."

  Ray grinned wider. "That'll be great, Ikkaku. How're his legs?"

  Ikkaku chuckled. "Usable."

  Ray nodded and looked to his assistant. "Pocahontas is out." He marked on the clipboard and handed it to the slighter man. "This is what I want." He turned back to Ikkaku and Hisagi. "Okay, I need you back in two hours, with the third model."

  Ikkaku and Hisagi moved off toward Seireitei, Hisagi already questioning the bald man.

  "Make sure he's photogenic, too!" Ray called after them, only to see a tall shapely figure scantily draped in colorful scarves approaching him from another direction. "Aye, not Kuukaku again," he mumbled.

  She hastened her pace as Ray turned away. "Hey! Ray-man! What's this about the drain being in the wrong end of the pool?"

  Ray tried to outdistance her to the opposite side of the construction area.

  "Ray!"

  "Tara mail!" Orihime called, waving the purple and gold envelope later at the Shiba house, hopping in place. She was immediately joined in the kitchen by Yoruichi and Rangiku, already dressed in tank tops and shorts in the growing heat. They both leaned over her shoulder to see the note.

  "'One shot left to decide the final two,'" she read. "'One chance left to impress the judges. Be ready at ten, and make it count, because one of you will be eliminated,'" she said slowly. "'Love, Tara.'"

  They all three looked to each other.

  Rangiku glanced at the brass clock on the wall. "Half an hour."

  Yoruichi lifted an eyebrow. "Last chance."

  Orihime was rereading the note, frowning uneasily. "No challenge first? Straight to elimination?"

  The two other women nodded at her.

  Yoruichi smiled and crossed her arms. "This is it. Almost the end."

  Orihime fingered the note's gilt edges, rereading the loopy penmanship. "What do you suppose the photo shoot will be? There's no clue this time."

  Rangiku leaned against the wall, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. "It's so hot out today I hope it involves water."

  Yoruichi and Orihime nodded in agreement.

  Half an hour later the limousine pulled up before the busy site of the constructed sets. The three contestants climbed out of the car, looking eagerly to see what little they could of the partial mock-ups of what appeared to be several ancient civilizations and the inside of a historical townhouse. Yoruichi, Rangiku, and Orihime looked to each other as they met Ray Migel - now dressed in dark jeans and a gray cotton shirt open over a white tank top - near the row of curtained off wardrobe and make-up stations.

  "Hallo, ladies!" he called, grinning at the three of them.

  "Hello, Ray!" they chorused.

  "Hmm, not many left," he said, taking a deep breath. "Feeling the stress, girls?"

  The contestants nodded.

  "Well, good, keep it and use it to drive you through the next few photo shoots. The winner of this competition will have to get used to the stress of constant travel, long hours, strange locations, strange people, foods, languages, all of it," he said. "You never know where the next shoot will be, and you have to be ready for anything."

  The contestants nodded again.

  "Good." Ray rubbed his hands together as his assistant joined him. "Throughout this competition you've learned about lighting, movement in natural lighting and how to find it, speaking before the camera, and generally how to sell a product. One final challenge. Today we're going to see which of you - which two of you - can persuade to the camera. We want to see you convince the camera of an emotion, without speaking. Use your eyes, your face, your lips." He waved a finger at them. "That doesn't always mean sexy or pouty. And, to help us with that," he said, taking the clipboard the assistant handed him, "is Acclaim Books Classics Illustrated new romantic line of graphic novels."

  Orihime made a slight whimpering noise. "How graphic?"

  Ray shook his head. "Not adult graphic, princess; graphic as in illustrated. Like manga."

  "Oh," Rangiku said.

  "This should be easy," Yoruichi said with a nod.

  Ray held up a thin book displaying The Three Musketeers on the cover. "Acclaim Books is adding the romance stories of Pocahontas, Caesar and Cleopatra, Gone with the Wind, Robin Hood, and a version of The King and I to their list, and you're going to be posing for the cover art today."

  The contestants squealed and giggled.

  Ray smiled. "Now since these are romance lines, you'll be posing opposite a male model, so it'll be important to keep in mind you are part of a couple."

  Orihime's smile dropped a notch, Rangiku's eyes grew, and Yoruichi looked around curiously to spot said models.

  "They're not here yet, Yoruichi," Ray told them. "Each of these stories centers around a romantic story, and each contain a strong scene where the heroine tries to convince her leading man of something. In Gone with the Wind we have Scarlett begging Rhett not to leave her at the end of the book; in The King and I we have Anna persuading King Mongkut to give her residence outside the palace, and Cleopatra convincing Julius Caesar not to return to his wife in Rome. Your job is to capture that moment of pleading or convincing well enough in a ph
oto that artwork can be created for the books."

  "Do we have to learn lines?" Rangiku asked.

  "No lines, but you can speak just a little, if you like. These are stills only, girls, not video, so any persuasion should come from your expression and body language, not your choice of words." Ray grinned at them. "Ready for your assignments?"

  The contestants nodded.

  Ray looked to his clipboard, and then to Yoruichi. "You get to show us the temptress Cleopatra, Yoruichi. Orihime, you're the belle of the ball as Scarlett, and Rangiku, you're our independent and lovely lady of letters, Anna Leonowens. Now, each of you will get a summary of the story," he added, holding up three booklets with boring black covers, "and head on over to wardrobe and make-up where our geniuses will recreate your historical looks."

  Rangiku spent the next thirty minutes in wardrobe and make-up being laced rib-tight into her crinoline style dress of mild yellow silk and lace, white taffeta petticoats making the skirt stand out in a wide hoop around her, long sleeves snug to the wide modest collar stretching across her chest, which actually did little to lessen the emphasis, a pearl and coral choker at her throat, a gold watch fob dangling from her waist. Her strawberry-blonde hair fell along her neck in curls, accented with gold and blue cloisonne combs at both temples, lips rouged and eyes made-up thick with mascara.

  She fanned herself with the small silk fan, feeling the day's increasing heat as the hair stylist gave her hair a final pat. She carefully touched a comb. "This thing weighs a ton," she said, moving carefully on the small satin shoes that weren't visible beneath her skirts. From nearby Orihime and Yoruichi both watched, the first in similar garb, complete with a fan.

  "No wonder they were always fainting back then," Orihime said, her slender form packed into an equally tight puffy-sleeved bustle style dress of raspberry black satin and black embroidery, fanning herself industriously with the black starched lace fan.

  Nearby Yoruichi waited in a considerably lighter costume, consisting mostly of a white linen tunic with long skirt slit thigh high on each side and wide ornamental collar of gold with blue and red enamel in lotus design across her chest. Her eyes were lined with sweeping black liner. "They look heavy, and warm," she noted. "Can you even breathe?"

  Both Orihime and Rangiku shook their heads.

  Orihime frowned, considering Yoruichi's adornments. "I want an armband, too."

  Yoruichi looked to the gold cuffs that encircled her arms depicting viper designs, and then to her bracelets and anklet. "Now this I could get used to."

  Ray joined them as Rangiku gave herself a final glimpse in the make-up station mirror and attempted taking a deep breath.

  "Fabulous, ladies, just fabulous," he said, smiling and nodding. "Now remember that we only need you to look persuasive, to convey it in your eyes, your face, without words. That's what modeling relies on; expression, not words."

  They all nodded, Yoruichi's gold disc earrings bobbing.

  "Rangiku, you're up first," Ray said.

  Rangiku looked at the set when they reached it, a backdrop constructed to resemble the interior of a nineteenth century Siam palace drawing room, long swags of transparent pink and blue silk draped from the ceiling against the walls, pierced and cut copper panels partitioning either side of the set, a painted black and white marble floor underfoot.

  "This is the palace room set," Ray told her, "where you're going to hold the King to his promise for a private house for you and your son."

  Rangiku held up her booklet. "Do I get a son, too?"

  "No, not for the cover. Just you and the King." Ray gestured behind her. "Here's your King now."

  Rangiku turned to see Ikkaku, and would have laughed if she could have breathed. She managed a giggle.

  Ikkaku stood scowling in his short pants and cropped jacket, both of thick red velvet decorated with gold flecks, trimmed in yellow chenille. On each ankle was a gold cuff, his feet bare. "You're wearing enough material to make two kimonos, Matsumoto," he said with a short laugh.

  She rolled her eyes and fanned herself faster. "Why am I so overly dressed and he's so ... so Ikkaku?" she asked Ray.

  The fashion shoot director shrugged. "He's perfect for the part."

  She committed a shallow sigh, her posture bolstered by the whale bone corset. "By the book?"

  Ray nodded. "By the book. Let's get you started."

  The cameraman and photographer took their spots outside the set as Ray positioned the models.

  A few moments later Rangiku and Ikkaku stood looking back at Ray, both with their hands on their hips, semi-sour looks on their faces.

  "Stand a little closer to him, Rangiku," Ray said, "and put your arms down."

  She did this, looking to Ikkaku.

  "Anytime, Rangiku," Ray said as the photographer nodded to him. "Remember, persuasion."

  Rangiku looked to Ikkaku. "You promised me a house outside of the palace. Where is it?"

  Ikkaku frowned. "I don't know."

  "No," Ray said. "Rangiku, you don't have to say it; show it. Show us imploring, in your face."

  She frowned at him for a moment, and then turned back to Ikkaku. Her face softened, and she stepped closer. Ikkaku looked wary, and stepped back.

  "No, you're king, Ikkaku. Don't run away from her," Ray said.

  "I'm not running," he said.

  Rangiku smiled. "You promised."

  Ikkaku haughtily looked away from her.

  Rangiku batted her eyes, which Ikkaku ignored.

  "You have to look at her," Ray directed.

  Ikkaku looked back to Rangiku, who began fingering the yellow collar of her dress, a seductive smile crossing her face.

  "What good is a King who won't keep his promises?" she murmured, eyes holding his, the smile never leaving her lips as the photographer clicked photos.

  Ikkaku's stony expression began to slip, eyes following her finger.

  Her hand dropped to the small white decorative buttons on her dress, fingertips fumbling with them, then she looked to Ray in frustration. "How am I supposed to persuade him if I can't undo these silly buttons?"

  "If you can't ...? No, not that way, Rangiku," Ray said quickly as the crewmen chuckled behind him.

  "Can I touch him?" she asked Ray.

  "No," Ikkaku answered.

  "The King and Anna didn't have that kind of relationship," Ray said, grinning as Rangiku moved in on Ikkaku.

  She sighed, looking back at Ikkaku with intent, whose eyes were still on the non-functioning buttons beneath her fingers. She dropped her hand and his eyes rose to hers as she leaned closer to him. "A house," she said softly, lips barely moving. "A small house, just outside the palace, a brick house, like you promised me ..."

  "Much better, Rangiku," Ray said as the photographer finished off the set. "That's it for your frames."

  Rangiku backed away and sighed, trying to catch her breath in the confines of the corset as Ikkaku hung there for a second before leaning away, scowl snapping back into place.

  "Am I done?" she asked Ray.

  "You're done," he said, grinning as Ikkaku grumbled something and walked off the set.

  She sighed, both hands reaching to the back of her dress, straining the yellow silk across her chest. "Somebody cut me outta this thing."

  Ten minutes later it was Orihime in her raspberry black bustle dress, its wasp waist cutting off her oxygen, her long flowing skirt wrapping around her bustled form as she positioned herself before the mid-nineteenth century townhouse interior near the open Federal style door, out which a fog was rolling along. The backdrop was painted in cream wainscoting, the burgundy and gold Oriental carpets underfoot. She was still trying to regulate her breathing, her cheeks pink from the heat, when Ray motioned to her.

  "Looks good, Orihime," he said. "Very believable as Scarlett toward the end of the film. Here comes your Rhett Butler."

  Hisagi walked onto the set, scars and tattoo covered with make-up, looking dapper in his Restoration Era charcoal co
lored coat and trousers, string tie at his neck, black felt hat on his head, and fake mustache bridging his upper lip. He grinned back at Ray, and then looked to Orihime, who was blushing fuller now.

  "Handsome guy, Hisagi," Ray said, smiling. "Now, stand beside Orihime, as if you're getting ready to leave out the door, which you are."

  Hisagi took his place between Orihime and the door. "Hi," he said to her.

  "Hi."

  "You read up on the story, right, Orihime?" Ray asked as he found his spot between the cameraman and photographer.

  "Yes, Ray!"

  "Good. Now you're to persuade him not to leave you, you want to work out your marriage. Got it?"

  She blushed a little more. "Yes."

  "Okay. Whenever you're ready."

  Orihime looked to Hisagi, timidity hinting her voice. "Please don't go."

  Ray shook his head. "You're not selling it, princess."

  Orihime looked up at Hisagi, eyes growing larger, lower lip trembling a little. "Please don't go. We can work it out."

  Hisagi cleared his throat, looking uncomfortably at her as the photographer snapped photos.

  "Don't rely on your words, Orihime," Ray told her. "He's about to walk out of your life forever."

  Orihime nodded, and then looked back to Hisagi with desperation. "Don't leave me! I was wrong!" She clutched the lapels of his jacket tightly in both hands, pinning him to the doorframe as fog rolled by outside the door. "Please don't leave, Hisagi-san!"

  "I won't," he said, returning her rapt attention.

  "No, Hisagi, Orihime," Ray called. "You don't give in, Hisagi, and, Orihime, you're supposed to use your facial expression to make him stay, not manhandle him."

  Hisagi looked from Orihime's hands still embedded in his jacket to Ray. "But I think Rhett would stay."

  Ray shook his head. "Unhand him, princess, and try it again."

  Orihime unclenched her hands and Hisagi straightened his jacket.

  "Go ahead, Orihime," Ray said.

  Orihime smoothed her dark skirts and looked back at Hisagi. "I like the mustache."

  "Oh, thanks," he nodded with a slight grin, then cautious as she took a step toward him again.

  "Please, don't go," she said with a sniff, eyes moistening. "Please stay."

  Hisagi nodded, and was still nodding when Ray called to them that they'd finished their frames three clicks later.

  "Relying a little too much on dialogue and not on body language and expression," Ray said. "But good set."

  "Thanks," Orihime said, hiccupping from her tight bodice. "...Excuse me."

  Ikkaku stood outside the curtained off changing room, listening to the grumbling that came from over the side.

  "... on such a short notice, and my first thought was of you," he called over the curtain, now relieved to be in his shinigami robes again. "Besides, it'll help you redeem yourself as a man."

  Yumichika ripped back the side of the curtain and glared back at Ikkaku. "I don't need to redeem myself as a man."

  Ikkaku grinned, chuckling as he surveyed his comrade's attire, from shin-covering greaves to short tunic peeking out from beneath the leather pleats, to form-fitted anatomically-detailed breastplate, a broadsword in the scabbard at his side. Under Yumichika's arm was an iron helmet, a scowl on his face. "Your armor has nipples."

  Yumichika growled something and started off to find Ray. "I hope it's Orihime."

  They found Ray at the last set, which had walls of slate gray, draped with white sections of linen from the pillars carved with hieroglyphics, and decorated with Egyptian furniture and motifs, wall torches lit despite the blazingly hot and bright afternoon. To one side was a painted mural with fake balcony, beyond it a small fuzzy-looking pyramid. Yoruichi was already there, looking only slightly wilted in her long white skirt and wide jewel-toned collar, dark hair long and straight, hanging in gold beads at the ends, gold diadem and earrings glinting. She looked at him with surprise, and then laughed.

  Ray grinned. "Good to see you again, Yumichika. Nicely arrayed."

  "Hi, Ray," Yumichika said. He looked over Yoruichi's costume. "Cleopatra?"

  "Uh-huh. Caesar. That works," she said with a nod.

  Ray held up his hands as the crewmen behind him adjusted the lights. "This should be old hat to you, Yumichika. You've worked before the camera quite a bit." His attention went to Yoruichi. "You've seen the other shoots, so you know what we're looking for. You want him to stay; he wants to leave. He's going to leave. Use your face, your eyes to convey to the camera that you want him to stay."

  Yoruichi nodded and stepped to the balcony painted on the mural. Yumichika took his place beside her, grinning a little as she returned him a sly glance.

  "Make him want to stay, Yoruichi," Ray directed as the cameraman nodded to him and the photographer got into position. "This isn't video, so there's no sound. Use your face, your body - but don't handle him."

  Yoruichi looked to Ray. "Not at all?"

  "No," Yumichika answered.

  "Go when you're ready, Yoruichi," Ray told her.

  Yoruichi stepped closer to Yumichika, tossing her black, gold-beaded hair over her shoulder, eyes half closed as she looked up at him. "How can you go back to her and deny me you?"

  Yumichika clutched his helmet tighter to his side. "We don't have to speak lines."

  "I know that, but maybe it would help." She smiled. "Is it?"

  "...No."

  "I don't see any entreaty in your expression," Ray called. "Show him with your eyes you don't want him to leave."

  Yoruichi sidled closer to Yumichika. "I am Egypt. No one leaves Egypt until I allow them to."

  Cameras rolled, snapped.

  "Is that a threat?"

  "No. I'm trying to get you to stay," she said, eyes lingering on his lips as he attempted a scowl.

  "I'm leaving."

  Gold eyes flashed brighter. "I'm carrying your child, Yumichika. You can't leave now."

  He looked sheepishly to Ray and then back to Yoruichi as her hand slowly slid up his breastplate. "Miss Yoruichi..."

  Ray cleared his throat, grinning. "Can you even feel that through the armor, Yumichika?"

  "... No."

  Yoruichi's sly smile turned more playful, leaning against him. "Don't you want to stay here with me?"

  Yumichika remained silent, expression fixed and guarded until the photographer had finished his roll of film.

  "That's it," Ray told them, chuckling at Yumichika's resistance. "You almost changed history there, Yoruichi."

  She tossed him a smile, and then one to Yumichika as she backed away. "Maybe there wouldn't have had to be an Antony."

  Ray took a deep breath, shrugging at the photographer who was grinning. "Well, Yumichika didn't give in." He waved over the other two contestants, who were now back in their shorts and tank tops. "Good photo shoots today, ladies. Tonight you've got the final panel before the finale. I just want to say good luck to all of you, and goodbye to one of you," he added, looking to each of them. "Whichever one that is."

  "Thanks, Ray," the women said in unison.

  He held out his arms. "A hug?"

  They nodded, and gave him a big hug.

  Miss Ray held still as the props girl used a pair of toenail clippers to remove off the fourth point of his tiara, leaving only three.

  "How ignoble," he said with a sigh, looking to Uryuu beside him at the judges table that evening. "Toenail clippers."

  "Tsk, tsk," the props girl clucked, filing down the tiara nub and giving it a quick polish "That's what happens when you wear it out on the town and I can't get to it."

  "It matches my silver heels so well." Miss Ray smoothed his black sequined tank top, giving Uryuu a closer look as the props girl left. "You don't look as green as you did at noon, brother. Feeling better, are we?"

  Uryuu started to nod, but thought better of it. "Yes, thank you."

  "This weather is unbelievable," Tara said, fanning herself with a white feathery fan. "Taking
the curl right outta my hair." She sighed heavily, and then looked down the table to where Toshirou Hitsugaya sat on the opposite side of Virgil. She perked up a smile for him. "Are you in the junior league of the military out here? ROTC or something like that?"

  Hitsugaya gave her a sour look. "No. I'm a captain."

  "O-o-oh," Tara said with an exaggerated wink to Miss Ray. "A captain. How nice."

  "He is," Uryuu said with a nod.

  "Okay," Tara agreed, nodding with another wink.

  "I'm not sure you can appreciate what we do here," Virgil said to the guest judge. "While the competition is about beauty, it's also gauges poise, confidence, runway walk - which our own Miss Ray coaches - and commercial marketability. I know that sounds like a lot, but we -"

  "I can understand it," Hitsugaya said curtly, teal eyes on the doorway as the contestants arrived. "Only three left?"

  "Oh, that's my cue," Tara said, hopping to her feet, straightening her deep purple sundress and scurrying before the table. She smiled widely at the contestants dressed in coordinating white sundresses. "Hiya, girls!"

  "Hi, Tara!"

  "Wow, only three." Tara shook her head. "Not many left. Just the best. Soon to be two." She took a few moments to do her usual recitation of glamorous prizes and moneys to be won, and then gestured behind her to the table and introduced the judges. "And today, as our special guest judge," she said, drawing out the last few words, raising an eyebrow gratuitously, "is Captain Hitsugaya."

  Hitsugaya raised a hand in greeting, unsure.

  Rangiku smiled at him, waving a little.

  Virgil waved back at her.

  "Today you had one of the hardest photo shoots to date," Tara said to the remaining three contestants. "Invoking an emotion without speaking at all. At all. Not easy, is it?"

  The contestants all shook their heads.

  "No. It's all in the eyes, the mouth, the body language," she said, striking a few self-serving poses and facial expressions to demonstrate her point. "It's a skill hard to learn, but valuable to have as a model. Let's see your best shots."

  Tara hurried around the table, nearly ruffling the guest judge's hair with her elbow as she went. She sat down and looked up. "Come on down, Rangiku!"

  Said woman did a powerful walk down the carpet, stopping before the table, casting a stunning smile at them.

  "Girl got rhythm," Miss Ray said.

  Rangiku gave him his own smile.

  "Your photo shoot today had you portraying Anna in The King and I, and you had to convince the King to make good on his promise," Tara said with a nod. "Let's see if you succeeded."

  They all looked to the screen as Rangiku's photo appeared there, with her leaning ever so close to a decidedly distracted and vulnerable Ikkaku - not a look he usually wore - her blue eyes fastened on him beseechingly.

  Hitsugaya tried to force a scowl, but found himself grinning, just a little, at someone else getting the brunt of his vice-captains attentions.

  "Very good, nice proximity without contact," Tara said.

  "Uses her space - and his - but doesn't invade," Virgil said with a nod.

  Tara smiled at Rangiku, her left eye twitching slightly. "Thank you, Rangiku. Next up, Yoruichi."

  Rangiku passed Yoruichi on the carpet as the dark-skinned woman approached the judges.

  "Today you got to be one of the most famous women in history," Tara said, raising an eyebrow. "How was that for you?"

  Yoruichi nodded, smiling. "I liked it."

  "And you got to work opposite Yumichika."

  Yoruichi laughed a little. "He's much better as a male model."

  Tara nodded and looked to the screen. "Let's see your best photo."

  On the screen appeared Yoruichi's photo. In it she had one hand on Yumichika's breastplate, gold eyes lingering on his, diadem and hair beads glittering in the torchlight.

  "I see seduction, not pleading," Miss Ray said.

  "Seduction could make him stay," Yoruichi offered.

  "She's got a point," Virgil said.

  Tara nodded. "Thank you, Yoruichi. Let's see Orihime!"

  Yoruichi returned to line as Orihime did her bouncy walk to the table, smiling at the judges.

  "You got to be Scarlett of Gone with the Wind, begging Rhett to stay," Tara said, a lilt in her tone.

  Uryuu frowned, sitting straighter at the table.

  "Let's see your best shot," Tara said.

  Orihime nodded as her photo appeared on the screen. In it she was leaned to Hisagi, hands clutched in his charcoal jacket lapel, her eyes pleading with him to stay, and mouth obviously caught moving.

  "It's a good photo," Virgil said fairly, "but it would have been better if you did the speaking with your eyes instead of your mouth."

  Orihime nodded.

  "The lines between you and the male model are great," Tara said, nodding at the photo, "your heights, body language, his reaction to whatever it was you were saying."

  Uryuu studied the photo closer, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

  "Thank you, Orihime," Tara said with a smile. "Okay, ladies," she said, standing and addressing the contestants, "you're dismissed while the judges deliberate, after which we will decide who goes on to the finale, and who goes home tonight."

  Once the judges were alone at the table, Tara set the first photo before her. "This is a very tough shoot they did today," she began. "We tend to communicate with our bodies and faces, but mostly with our voices, and taking that away to portray an emotion like stay is difficult." She tapped the photo of Orihime. "This girl nailed the desperation of being alone, the desolation of don't leave me, but in every photo she's got her mouth open."

  Virgil nodded. "If this were a commercial she'd be perfect."

  "She is perfect," Uryuu said, leaning across Miss Ray to see the photo.

  "But she didn't do the assignment," Miss Ray reminded.

  "It's a good photo," Uryuu said.

  Tara looked down the table to the guest judge. "What do you think, Captain?"

  Hitsugaya looked a little uncomfortable. "She wants him to stay and she's telling him. She's a pretty girl, but if she didn't do the assignment ..." He shrugged.

  Virgil considered the photo. "Orihime has had some excellent photos. This is also a good one, but it doesn't fit the needs of cover art."

  Tara nodded and put the photo back in the pile and set another out. "Rangiku."

  "Can I see that one?" Hitsugaya asked.

  Virgil grinned and passed the photo to the guest judge.

  Hitsugaya studied the photo in-depth, a smile twitching at his lips as he looked at the beckoning look on her face. "She's in. He'd give in," he said, pushing the photo to Virgil.

  Uryuu nodded. "And she's not pawing at him. Not physically."

  "Oh, she's pawing at him," Miss Ray said, nodding. "Just she's doing it with her eyes. That's cover art."

  Tara nodded. "He's right, and that's what the photo shoot was about."

  Uryuu shook his head. "It wasn't pawing."

  Tara and Virgil both chuckled.

  "The shoot was about pawing; just not the verbal or physical kind," Virgil said.

  Uryuu reddened a bit, and looked to the photo Tara brought out of Yoruichi.

  "Now that is pawing," Uryuu said with a nod.

  Hitsugaya frowned at the photo, his cheeks pinking a little.

  Virgil half shrugged, grinning. "It's pawing on several levels, but he's resisting. He's not convinced to stay. The other two male models, they were giving in."

  Hitsugaya looked closer at the photo of Cleopatra. "Are we judging the male or female models?"

  Tara giggled, fanning herself with the feathers. "He's got a point. The women, of course." She looked up and down the table. "Well, have we come to our decision?"

  After a long moment, everyone nodded.

  Three nervous contestants stood before Tara, looking back at the judges table five minutes later. Tara waited before the table, looking to each
of them in turn. She took a deep breath.

  "Before me stand three beautiful young ladies, each with what it takes to be The Next Top Model," she said softly. "But only one can win this competition, and one will be going home tonight. I have two photos in my hands, and the name of the girl I do not call, must go back to the Shiba house, and pack to go home."

  The three contestants hooked hands together, smiling hopefully at each other.

  "Today's challenge was tough, and it separated the best from the very best," Tara said, pausing. She turned the first photo over. "Rangiku!"

  Rangiku let out a shrill shriek, and did an excited trot down the carpet to receive her photo from Tara.

  "Congratulations, you're still in the running for The Next Top Model," Tara said with a smile.

  "Thank you!" Rangiku stood to one side of the runway carpet.

  Tara looked down the carpet. "Orihime, Yoruichi, please come down here."

  The last two contestants approached the super model.

  "Lots of good photos from both of you," Tara said, looking to each. "Yoruichi, good photos, killer runway walk. Week after week, strong photos, but sometimes too much. Too strong." She looked to Orihime. "Sweet, sunny smiles, a raw naivete' you've managed to use to your advantage. Beautiful girl, but is that enough?" Tara sighed, and after a dramatic pause, turned over the last photo. "Yoruichi, you're still in the running for The Next Top Model."

  Yoruichi took the photo, smiling.

  Orihime sniffed, not entirely shocked, forcing a smile. She wiped her hand over her eyes, not quite crying.

  "You did so good, girl," Yoruichi said, turning to hug her.

  "Thanks," Orihime whispered into her hair, and then looked to Tara, refusing to cry. "Thanks, Tara. I had a lot of fun."

  "You've had a lot of good photos, princess." Tara hugged her quickly. "Good luck."

  "Thanks." Orihime looked sadly to the judges table, waving to Uryuu, who waved back and then visibly slumped in his chair.

  Rangiku motioned the Living girl over and gave her a tight hug, planting a kiss on the top of her hair. Orihime turned and left the room.

  And then there were two.