The night stars glistened as the young girl crossed the crosswalk at the corner of Waterlily Road and Seventh street. She tightened her jacket around her, wrapping her arms around herself as she gazed up at the pitch-black night sky. She could already spot the Big Dipper, just like back at home. She'd always loved that constellation. It was so simple. That was what made it lovable.

She shivered, pulling her jacket ever closer, bringing her dreamy gaze away from the stars to look forward. Man, for a fall night, it was so cold! She wished she had worn something a little warmer; a mini skirt, thin white shirt, and light jacket wasn't going to cut it tonight.

Nonetheless, she was happy she'd gone out that night. It was so good to see her aunt again. It had been so long, and her homemade cherry pie was as delicious as, if not better than, she remembered. Her aunt seemed happy to see her, too. As much as she hated to admit it, her aunt was getting old. Having company wasn't as common as it used to be, and it really didn't help that she had moved to Japan for, quote, "a new journey whilst I can still experience it" unquote. The girl always pondered this. America was a big country. Couldn't her aunt have "a new journey" there, without having to pack up and move halfway around the world to Japan? She usually shrugged this question off. Her aunt was, ahem, "eccentric" in a lot of ways, so asking questions about her choices was like trying to train a cat to fetch. Pointless.

She veered a bit to the right and rested her head on her father's shoulder, whose eyes twinkled behind his spectacles in the light of the nearby streetlight as he smiled at his daughter. As they continued to walk, the girl's mother, who was at her left, smiled and ruffled her daughter's beautiful white hair.

The girl, revealing her devilish motives for resting her head on her father's shoulder, snatched the paperboy hat off her father's head, revealing the messy caramel-colored hair that he had concealed. He gave a small laugh and reached to retrieve it, but his daughter held it out of his reach and gave a mischievous smile.

"Iie*."

He cocked a brow. "Why?"

"Because you look better without it," she said, brushing away some imaginary dust from the hat.

"Very funny, now give it back."

"I'm serious! Your hair looks fine. Now quit worrying about it and let's buy some ice cream."

"Okay, for one, no ice cream. It's too late. Two, my hair does not look fine."

"Iie! Oretta awai tsubasa! Arigatou! Kawaii!*"

"No fair! Don't speak Japanese when I don't know it yet!"

"Well, learn it then."

The girl smirked. She had become fluent in Japanese with the help of her mother, who knew the language like the back of her hand, and enjoyed speaking to her father in Japanese to confuse him. Even though she usually just said random words, like she had just done, she sometimes spoke in Japanese to her mother while her father was in the room and wanted to say something that she didn't want him to hear. It always amused her that she had become fluent so quickly, while her father was still trying to learn. She often rubbed it in his face, but in reality was very thankful for being bilingual. Her visits to Japan to see her aunt were made much less frustrating for her, since she could understand what the locals were saying.

"She's right about your hair," the man's wife said, joining the conversation. "It looks fine. Anyway, I like your hair."

"I know you do," the man said with a smirk, snatching the hat away from his daughter playfully when she wasn't looking. He fixed it on his head. "I just like it better when there's a hat on it."

They all laughed. Picture perfect family. Picture perfect life. The mother was from Japan herself, her short black hair and small, skinny build revealing her heritage. Her pale, porcelain skin was pleasantly warm to the touch. She had ice blue eyes to match her daughter's, and her height was a little on the short side. The father was American, six foot tall with messy, caramel-colored hair and an outgoing nature. His hazel eyes often took refuge behind his glasses. The daughter looked almost exactly like her mother, save the hair, and she was often mistaken in her visits to Japan as a Japanese citizen. Her snow white hair was definitely an outstanding, unique feature, but it didn't stand in the way of the perfect image of her family. She was often praised for it, adding more happiness to the already joyful and content family. No scandalous affairs. No domestic violence going on behind closed doors. Just the most perfect family there had ever been and ever would be.

Little did they know, that picture perfect image was going to be destroyed in a matter of seconds.

The man's smile faltered as he stopped walking, staring at the sidewalk he and his family were headed to. The two women, lost in the lust for the warm, heavenly pillows and blankets of the hotel they were staying in, which was only a block away, didn't notice the man stopping and kept walking. After a few steps, the girl's mother noticed her husband trailing behind and stopped as well, turning her head to lay her gaze on her husband. Her daughter noticed this and twisted her neck like her mother did to look back at her father, stopping so that the entire family was at a standstill.

"Dan," the woman said, using her nickname for her husband, "what is it? If you haven't noticed, we're kind of in the middle of the street."

The man just stood still, still staring at the sidewalk. A cold wind blew, making the environment less warm and happy than it was a few seconds ago. It was more... cold. Uncomfortable.

Unsafe.

Everyone's clothing flapped in the wind ominously. A streetlight flickered, as if it knew that there was something amiss as well. The man's gaze never left the sidewalk, almost as if he was in a trance. The silence was deafening. The girl pursed her lips in suspense. Her father almost never acted like this. He was always so lively and talkative. Him standing like the living dead in the middle of a street, not talking at all, immediately sets off sirens in one's head. Any person who had ever exchanged words with him at least once knew this wasn't normal.

"D-do you see that?" he whispered.

The two women both turned their heads to the front again, only to see that there was nothing on the sidewalk that the man referred to. They brought their gazes back to the man, looking at him like he was crazy.

"What are you talking about?" the woman asked, turning her body so that she was facing him entirely. "There isn't anything there but some litter and a fire hydrant, if that's what you're referring to."

"No..." the girl's father said. "That... shimmering."

The woman put her hands on her hips. "This better not be another joke. You really are telling them too much. They're getting annoying."

The woman turned and began to walk in the previous direction, not paying any attention to the sidewalk. The girl rolled her eyes and turned her neck back forward, beginning to follow her mother. Dear Kami.* More jokes. Just what they needed. It was true—Her father seemed to have developed a fetish for jokes and pranks. It was getting repetitive and irritating.

"No," the man said. He grabbed his wife's wrist and stopped her yet again. "Chou, I'm serious. I'm getting a bad feeling about it. Let's go another way. Please." You could clearly hear the concern and protectiveness in his voice. His daughter turned around, seeing that her parents were stopped yet again.

The woman pulled her wrist away from his grasp. "Daniel!" she exclaimed, using his full name. "Seriously! Enough is enough! We're all tired; let's just go back to the hotel already and get out of the street!"

The girl sighed, crossing her arms and looking left and right to make sure that there were no cars coming. She loved her parents. She really did. But when they got into a debate, which was a lot, they tended to take a bit. It wasn't out of anger or anything. They were both just very controversial people. The debates weren't even fights. It was more like a little debating exercise that you might have in a high school debate club. Nothing more, nothing less.

As her parents went back and forth, the girl cast her gaze to the sidewalk to check out the spot her father was getting so worked up about. Upon closer inspection, she realized that the area was shimmering, like the air on a hot day back home. Huh. So her father was actually telling the truth about that. What could it be? It wasn't hot... In fact, it was downright freezing, for autumn. Then again, it is Japan, The girl thought. This place is weird.

Just then, there was a voice of a girl, viciously yelling in Japanese. The girl, standing in the street with nothing else to do at the moment, instantly translated the words in her head to "You stupid MOD! Do that again, you die! Dear Kami, peek up my skirt again and there'll be worse than death waiting for you!"

A window suddenly broke at the building marked "Kurosaki Clinic," and a stuffed lion flew out of it. It slammed into a telephone pole, and slid to the ground, sprawled like a rag doll. Weirdly, it then stood up and rubbed the back of its head, as if trying to soothe pain. The girl's voice that was heard coming from the room before began to speak again. Although she was not shouting this time, the window was now broken, so every word she was was now audible. Again, bored out of her mind, the girl shifted her weight from foot to foot as she translated the female's words again.

"That idiot! Kami... We've got an order! Ichigo! Grab your stuff and let's go! It's at the park across town!"

A short, raven-haired girl wearing a Japanese schoolgirl uniform jumped out of the recently broken window, landing on the ground flawlessly. She began to sprint away as the second figure climbed out of the window. This one was tall, with weird spiky orange hair, and was wearing a Japanese school boy's uniform. He started to run after the girl, pulling a badge out of his back pocket as he rounded the corner after the girl. The stuffed lion jumped.

"Wait!" it yelled in Japanese. "Rukia onee-chan! Wait for me!" It began to run after the girl and boy, and its shouts were still heard after it rounded the corner. The girl sweat-dropped. Yup. This place was weird.

She was still partially stunned by the talking stuffed animal. Cute little robot toy, maybe? As she understood, in Japan it wasn't that uncommon to have tiny little trinkets like that; the ones that spoke, walked, etc. But still... It was weird how advanced it must have been to be able to respond like that. The things it said weren't really recorded, it seemed. It responded to the actual things that the girl said. It also knew exactly where to run, rather than wandering aimlessly like most toys. The one girl also called it a MOD... Was that maybe what the toy was called? Hm. Crazy, crazy Japan.

The girl directed her attention back to the weird shimmering on the sidewalk. Checking again for traffic, the girl picked up a pebble and threw it at the shimmering spot. This was a little test. If the pebble became distorted as it entered the shimmering area, that proved that the air was the thing that was being strange. But instead, the pebble did something that the girl didn't expect.

It bounced right off the shimmering area.

The girl widened her eyes. Whoa. She picked up another pebble, this time throwing it harder.

It bounced off again.

The girl cocked her head. Weird. Crazy. Insane. Maybe her father was actually right about there being a bad feeling about the sidewalk. Taking a different crosswalk would be smart. Very smart.

She turned and stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets, walking back to her parents, who were still debating. Kami, these people could be on Vh1. That was all that Vh1 showed, right? People going back and forth on pointless subjects. Endlessly. This was getting funny. They could really make some money from this. But not now. They'd have to wait to get back to America for that. For now, the girl was going to try to convince her mother to go another way back to the hotel.

Walking up to her parents, the girl tried to restrain her laughing as she stuck her hand in the middle of the space keeping them apart. She closed her eyes.

"I agree with Dad," she said expressionlessly. "We should take another way home."

Her mother's mouth opened and closed like she was a fish out of water, baffled that she was in a two-on-one deal. She had lost the debate.

She shrugged. "What's the big deal with taking another way?" she asked, obviously confused. "I really don't see any problem with going the way we were going to go!"

The girl sighed. "It's just got some creepy stuff going on with it," she said. "Watch this."

She picked up another pebble and lobbed it at the sidewalk. It went straight and bounced off the building that was in its way, landing on the concrete with a clack. It didn't bounce off the air like it had done earlier. Actually, the shimmering was gone; there was just clear air in the spot now.

"Huh," the girl said. It was more of a statement than a question. "I guess it's safe now. Come on, Dad." She began to walk towards the sidewalk again.

What none of them realized was that the thing that had caused the shimmering spot was still there; it had only moved so that it had a better chance of attacking them.

The girl's mother crossed her arms and smirked. She hadn't lost the debate at all. She had won. She began to follow her daughter, smug that she was apparently right.

The girl's father still wasn't so sure.

He put his hand on his daughter's shoulder, effectively stopping her for the time being, letting his wife keep walking. "Please," he begged, "help me convince your mother. You saw the blurry, shimmery spot too, didn't you? We should really take another way."

"Why?" the girl asked in reply. "If you saw it too, you should also see that it's gone. I think we're good for now."

"I know it's gone," he said. "But I've still got a bad feeling."

The girl was about to answer, but very suddenly, a shrill scream resounded over the area.

The two, previously in a very serious conversation, whipped their heads to the sidewalk. But, there was nothing there. That was the disturbing part. If there was nothing there, that meant that even the girl's mother was gone. Nowhere to be found. Missing. The girl and her father both did a quick turnaround, desperately hoping that the woman was somewhere in sight. She didn't appear to be anywhere. The scream sounded again, and the girl directed her attention straight up.

She immediately wished she hadn't.

The blurry spot was right in front of her, and her mother was suspended from what seemed to be nothing. She was holding onto something solid in front of her neck, although it looked as if there was nothing there. She looked almost like she was choking. She was gasping for breath, trying to scream for help. Her legs bicycled as she hung mercilessly by her abdomen and throat. She coughed, like she was trying to get rid of something that she was choking on.

But what could she be choking on when she was suspended ten feet up by what looked like only air?

"Mom!"the girl cried out, not sure what to do. She and her father could only watch with wide eyes and shuddering breathing as the woman they both loved was strangled. The girl clenched her fists and brought them both up to her breastbone, calling her mother again. She looked around, urgently whipping her gaze left and right to see what could possibly causing this. But there was nothing in sight, and no people were even around to witness the terror and help them.

With a yell, her father was quickly yanked up next to her mother, making the same reactions as his wife was: signs of choking. It was almost as if they were both being held up by two giant fists that clenched around their throats, trying to kill them without mercy. "Iie!" the girl yelled. "Dad!" He kicked his legs and managed to choke out a warning to his daughter.

"Mi- ack! G-get away—save yourse- urg!" he hacked, his coughing and choking getting in the way of his words. His glasses were knocked away, and they hit the pavement with a sickening crack as the frames and lenses shattered.

The girl's breath hitched in her throat, not believing what she was seeing. This was a dream! It had to be! It couldn't... It couldn't be real! She flipped her cell phone from her pocket, attempting to call for help. To her utter horror, it was dead. She looked up to her parents, who were still bicycling their legs, coughing and hacking as they seemed to be squeezed even tighter. The girl yelped in surprise and pain and three claw marks ran across her palm, an invisible force sending her phone soaring into a tree and shattering. She stepped back in fear, but before she break into a sprint for her life, she felt more claw marks create themselves on her side as she was sent flying into the pavement, rolling and bouncing from the force of the attack. She winced every time her skin met the rough pavement, and with complete panic and horror, one thought played through her mind over and over:

"What the hell was that?"

She skidded to a painful stop, slamming into a metal streetlight pole. Her vision shifted from blackness to blurred images as she shakily stood up on bloody legs. She held her head and felt a warm wetness she immediately identified as blood. She brought her hand away and held it in front of her face. She couldn't see very well, she figured she had a concussion, but it was hard to mistake the dark red on her hand, blurry vision or not. She stumbled a bit forward, but regained her composure at the last second and barely prevented herself from falling. She held her forehead with her bloody right hand, letting her other one dangle.

Alright. It was time to get out of here. Get some help. Maybe soothe the searing pain in her scalp-

"Mi-Miyu—irk!" he father choked out, trying to call her first name, but failing to say it. "Look out!"

The girl only the had the chance to turn her head before the drunk driver in the speeding car hit her straight on.

She opened her eyes blearily, shielding them from the morning sun with her right arm. She pushed herself into a stand, but immediately regretted it. Her body hurt like no one could imagine. Her arms were stiff and bloody. Her legs felt like gelatin. She could barely think straight from the pain, and she probably looked better than she felt. And considering the pain, she probably looked pretty banged up.

"Ugh..." she thought. "Everything hurts..."

She felt as if she had been hit by a car. (A/N: Ha ha! You get the pun there? Because she was actually hit by a—ah, forget it. This isn't the time for jokes, I guess...) Ugh... Where could she go to get help?

Gingerly lifting her arm away from her face, she found that across the street from where she sat in the grass was a sign that read "Kurosaki Clinic." A clinic. She could get help there. She could get away from this pain. She stumbled and shuffled over to the entrance and pushed the door, which came open with a small ding of a bell. She stumbled over the small step into the building, and rested her hand on the side of the door frame. She took another cautious step into the clinic, removing her hand from the door frame for a split second before quickly placing it on the wall just inside the entrance. She clenched her hand into a fist and put more of her weight on her forearm than her hand, trying to stop the pain from the three long scratches that were on her palm for some reason. She let her left arm dangle helplessly. She couldn't move it.

She looked up, breathing in the sanitizer smell. At least that was comforting. The sanitizer smell wasn't so bad. That thing that bothered her was the glare from the polished linoleum floor from the fluorescent lights above. Her eyes seemed really sensitive, since she was so dizzy at that moment. She blinked a couple times, then directed her attention to the desk at the entrance. At the spot where a doctor would usually sit, there was a little girl, looking to be about eleven, with strawberry blonde hair and a sweet face dressed in a cute little nurse's uniform. The girl wondered if she was really a nurse. She just looked so young... She groaned and closed her eyes again. Why were the lights so bright to her? Why did her head feel like it was split open? Why... Why was everything blurring...?

The little girl looked up at the sound of the groan. Her eyes widened when she lay her gaze on the girl that had just walked in, and her hands went straight up to her mouth. "Oh my..." she started quietly. "Oh my Kami!" she exclaimed louder this time. She took off down the hallway. "Dad!" she yelled. "Dad! Get out here right now!" The girl closed her eyes and began to lean fully on the wall, easing her back onto it and sliding down a bit. Her knees were forced together just to stay standing. Huh. Did she really look that bad? That little girl sure did freak out...

Just then, another small girl who looked about the same age as the one before with black hair and a baseball cap walked out of one of the numerous doorways in that hallway. "Yuzu!" she called, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her shorts. "What's with all the..." she turned her head to look at the girl in the doorway, "...yelling..." Her eyes snapped wide. "Dear Kami! Are you okay?" she cried, yanking her hands out of her pockets and running to the new client. The girl shook her head no and slid down the wall a little more. "Well, you came to the right place!" the little girl exclaimed to the elder one. She pulled one of the new girl's arm over her shoulder and began to lead her down the hallway. "How did you get so torn up?" the little girl asked.

"I... It's... hazy." the older girl replied.

"That's okay," the young girl said kindly. "As long as you're safe and get better, that won't matter for now. Now come into this room here..."

The little girl led her into a quaint hospital room and gently sat her on the crisp white sheets. "You stay here," she said. She poked her head out of the room as the girl lay down, wincing every time she moved a body part wrong. Which she did quite a lot. She was finally able to get her entire body on the bed, and she clutched her left arm with her right, sure that it was broken.

"Ichigo!" the girl yelled. "Get in here while I get Dad!"

The girl bolted from the room just as an orange haired boy sauntered in, his hands in his pockets.

"What do you need me for?" the boy yelled out the door in the direction that the little girl had run. There was a distant "Just watch her!" from the end of the hallway, but the girl was so focused on not passing out when her vision went back and forth from blackness to being blurry that she wasn't really paying attention.

As soon as the boy saw her, his calm exterior vanished. His eyes widened. He stuck his head out of the door. "Dad! If you're not in here in five seconds, I'm gonna kick your ass!" He immediately pulled his head back in as a man rushed into view, carrying a woven basket full of any medical items needed for an immediate surgery. He was followed immediately by the two little girls that the girl had seen earlier. As soon as the man saw the girl, he widened his eyes, just like everyone else had. Really, did she look that bad? She knew she felt bad...

The man rushed to her side, not missing a beat. He began to pull items from the basket expertly, and he set his eyes on her.

"I'm going to need you to try to stay awake for me, okay?" he said. "I only want you to close your eyes if you absolutely can't keep them open any more. Are we clear?"

The girl could only nod feebly.

"On a scale from one to ten," he said, bringing form his basket a bag of cotton balls and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, "with one being no pain at all to ten being completely unbearable, how bad would you say the pain is?"

The girl winced and bared her teeth as he pressed a cotton ball soaked with alcohol on her left arm. "The unbearable one," she said, squeezing her eyes shut in pain as he took the cotton away. "Definitely the unbearable one."

"Can you move this arm?" he asked, signaling to her left arm.

"I don't think so..." the girl answered, tears welling up in her eyes.. "I... I think it's broken..."

The man brushed some hair from her forehead and smiled reassuringly. "It's going to be alright," he said gently. "You did the right thing by coming here. You're going to be fine."

The girl smiled sadly. "Arigatou...*"

She fought the urge to close her eyes and fall asleep as best she could. She really did. But the promise of rest was overwhelming, and before she could do anything, her body became completely relaxed and her eyes closed, leaving behind the images of four concerned faces as she drifted to a deep sleep.

As the morning sun poured through the windows, the girl's eyes fluttered open to reveal that she was still in the clinic she had gone to.

And the orange-haired boy was staring her straight in the face.

Seeing someone that close to you when you first wake up from a deep sleep can really scare the living daylights out of you. So you can imagine the surprise and panic running through the girl's veins and she bolted into the sitting position and slammed heads with the boy. They both reared back in pain, holding their foreheads and muttering curses of their own creation. The boy was the first to retaliate.

"Oi!*" he exclaimed, still holding his forehead. "What the hell?"

The girl's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, not believing what she was hearing. "That's my line!" she cried incredulously. "You were the one who was in my face as soon as I woke up! What the heck were you doing that close to me anyway?"

"I was just doing a little check-up for my father!" he defended. "You were asleep for two freaking days! It's not like I expected you to wake up anytime soon!"

The girl's eyes widened. "Two days?" she nearly screamed.

The doctor rushed into the room. "What's with all the yelling in he-" He stopped when he saw the girl was sitting upright and looked about as steamed as a lobster. He smirked. "I see that you're awake," he said.

"Oh my gosh!" the girl gushed. "I'm so sorry for yelling in here, I-I wasn't thinking and-"

The man immediately flew to her bedside. "It's fine," he said, cupping the side of his mouth with his hand as if he was telling a secret, though making his voice loud enough that everyone in the room could hear. "My son here doesn't communicate with girls all that well."

He let out a strangled cry as he was sent flying to the other side of the room by his son's foot.

"What did I tell you about saying things like that to complete strangers?" he said angrily.

The girl smiled, letting loose a small chuckle as she watched the father and son go back and forth. This seemed like it would be a very interesting family. Those two girls she had seen the day before had to be that man's daughters. She laughed as the man seemed to try to encourage his son, telling him that not being able to talk to girls was normal and that he wouldn't be a virgin forever. The boy just kicked his father and whipped around to look at the girl, who was still giggling. He angrily pointed at her.

"WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT?" he cried out angrily, shaking with fury. The girl only giggled more.

"Don't you see, my son?" the man said, practically floating above the boy. "She finds you funny! Maybe you won't be die a virgin after all!"

He was pummeled again, sent flying out of the room when his son's foot met his chin.

"IT'S OKAY, ICHIGO!" the man yelled, sticking his head in the room and giving the lamest thumbs-up sign that had ever been done. "ONE DAY WE SHALL BOND AS FATHER AND SO-"

He was interrupted as the boy threw a slipper at his face, packing enough force to send the man flying.

"Yuzu!" a sobbing voice cried out from the end of the hallway. "Ichigo's being mean to Daddy again!"

"You probably deserved it," another voice said in monotone.

"Karin! That isn't nice!"

"Oh, you know that he deserved it, Yuzu."

The girl gave another small giggle, catching the boy's attention.

"Quit laughing!" he said, his cheeks tinged the slightest pink from the embarrassment of being called a virgin in front of a stranger. "Just take the pills on your bedside table already!"

With a look of cute confusion, the girl glanced at the end table by her bed. On it was a little orange bottle filled with small white pills and a glass of water. The girl picked up the little bottle and attempted to open it, bringing her other hand to the lid, and with a shock found that her left arm was tightly wrapped in a hard cast. The bright purple almost hurt her eyes. Feeling quite silly, she looked up at the boy with the orange hair, who was lazily staring up at the ceiling, as if contemplating something important.

"Um..." the girl started feebly. The boy brought his gaze to her. "Can you... um... help me open this?" She held up the bottle and shook it a bit.

"Oh, right." the boy said, seeming as if he had just realized that she wouldn't be able to open the bottle on her own. "Sorry." He waltzed up to her bed and took the bottle from her, easily popping the top off with a quick twist. He stuck his thumb and forefinger into the bottle and brought them out, holding two of the tiny white pills. He placed them in her open palm and twisted the bottle cap back on with the flick of his wrist as the girl popped the pills in her mouth, reaching for the water. She felt the cool glass hit her palm and closed her hand around the cup. She swiftly brought it to her lips and swallowed a few gulps of water, bringing the drinking glass away from her with a satisfied ah!

"Good," the boy said, looking her straight in the eye. "You'll need to take a couple of those every four hours. One of us, as in my sisters, my father and I, will come and remind you every time you need to take them, just in case." He turned on his heel and began to walk out.

"W-wait!" the girl called. The boy stopped and turned. "Well, I've been here for nearly three days, haven't I?" she asked. "But I still don't know your name."

"And?" the boy asked without interest.

"It's terribly rude for me to stay somewhere without knowing everyone's name!" she said. "So, would you please tell me your name?"

"Kay..." he said hesitantly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "My name's Kurosaki Ichigo. That guy you see me get in fights with all the time is my father, Kurosaki Isshin, but call him whatever you want. He's not really deserving of an honorific. The little girl who's kinda tomboyish all the time with short black hair is my little sister, Kurosaki Karin, and the other little girl is Kurosaki Yuzu, who is Karin's twin."

"So..." the girl said. "All the staff here is family? Just the four of you?"

He smirked. "You can say the four of us, but I'm usually pretty much useless when it comes to all the medical stuff. Most of the time I'm just told to resume the fetal position and stay out of the way, though they sometimes have me do a couple of check-ins and pill reminders when they're busy."

"Harsh," the girl said.

"I really don't mind," Ichigo said. "I wouldn't know what to do anyway. And your name is...?"

"Oh," the girl said. "My name is..." She widened her eyes for a second and then scrunched up her face in frustration. "My... My name is..."

What was her name?

A look of pure surprise and confusion spread across her face. "I-I don't know."

Ichigo looked mildly surprised. "Where do you live?" he asked. "You are Japanese, aren't you?"

She buried her head in her hands. "Oh my Kami... I don't know!" she said incredulously. She began to shake her head is if in denial.

Then it hit her.

"Mm mmf muh mff mnfa mff?" she said, her words muffled because she hadn't bothered to take her head out of her hands.

Ichigo looked at her strangely. "What?"

She brought her head from her hands. "I have that disease that makes you forget everything, don't I? Amnesia?"

Ichigo sighed and walked to her bed, sitting down on the edge, careful not to make her have to move in any way to let him sit down. He brought his hands together and folded them in between his legs, bowing his head a bit. He looked like he was about to deliver some bad news that he really didn't want to say.

"We were afraid of that." he said solemnly. "Due to the extent of your injuries, we concluded that something really bad happened to you. We aren't really sure how you got here, because all we know is that you came into the entrance of the clinic as beat up as you could possibly be. Of course, we couldn't really ask you about it, because you were out cold. You had some head trauma, and my father thought that there was a really big chance of amnesia, or worse."

He looked at the girl, locking amber with ice blue.

"I guess we should be pretty glad that you didn't get the 'or worse' part of the deal."

The room fell silent, the silence clogging the ears of the girl. The last sentence Ichigo had said rung in her head like a siren over and over.

"I guess we should be pretty glad that you didn't get the 'or worse' part of the deal."

This meant... Then she was... It was overwhelming for her. It was too much to take in at once.

"This means..." she finally muttered softly. "I... I won't know... I won't remember anything... And I... I'm..."

Understanding that the girl felt scared and alone, Ichigo gave her a small smirk. "I'm afraid so," he said. "But you've got nothing to worry about. If you came here alone, your family is probably looking for you now. Tell ya what. Once you're ready to get up and go places, my father will take you down to the police station and report you. Then, you should be able to find your family and be on the verge of finding your memory."

Before the girl could process all of this, there was a distant "Ichigo! Get down here for breakfast or you're not getting any!" Ichigo stood up and gave the girl a curt nod.

"You should get some rest," he said. "Father's orders." He headed for the door.

"Uh, Kurosaki-san?"

He turned his head to look at her again.

"Thanks."

He smirked and turned forward, sauntering out of the room and down the hallway until he was out of the girl's sight. She laid down again, deciding to take Ichigo's advice and get some sleep. As her eyes heavily grew shut, she heard the distant yells of the men fighting and the cries of the little girls to stop and smiled. What a weird family. A weird, crazy, fun family. Nonetheless, she was sure they were growing on her fast. And the promise to go to the police station was a wonderful thought. Maybe this whole thing wouldn't be as bad as she previously assumed. Maybe, just maybe, she would be able to get her memory back.

She hoped.

Author's note!

Alright! Finally! I finally rewrote this! For those who came back and reread the new version...

I thank you with all my heart! Free virtual kitten and virtual cookie for you!

For those that are just joining us and have no idea what I'm talking about...

Aw, what the heck? You guys get cookies and kittens too! Just for coming and checking out this story for the first time!

And I will admit it. I completely came up with the street names at the beginning out of nowhere. I like water lilies and the number seven. So yeah. I really don't know what street Ichigo lives on...

I really enjoyed writing this story! The characters were so charismatic this time! Please review! Please please please please /goes into a long succession of pleases/

Oh, please review! Pretty please! You will get a free shout out from Hanatarou if you do! He's just so cute!

And please check out the poll on my profile! I REALLY need some help making a decision! And only one person's voted... and that person voted for the "I don't care" option... Sometimes I wonder why I even put that choice on there...

A whole nine ¼ pages! That's how long this was! With 6921 words, too! That's a lot better than the first version, which had three pages and about 1691 words... big difference.

Oh, sorry if I confused any of you with my Japanese words! (And for those who know Japanese, just ignore this) For those who don't know the Japanese words I used in this chapter, here's a little encyclopedia: (In the order that they appeared)

Iie: Japanese for "no"

Iie! Oretta awai tsubasa! Arigatou! Kawaii!: I know this confused some of you. As said in the story, she likes saying random sentences to annoy her father. This phrase literally translates as "No! Your fragile folded wings! Thank you! So cute!" 0.0 Yeah. Completely random.

Kami: This pretty much means "God." So when the characters say "Oh my Kami!" or "Dear Kami!", they are really saying "Oh my God!" or "Dear God!"

Arigatou: Japanese for "thank you"

Oi: Japanese for "hey" (Example: "Oi! Come here!" means "Hey! Come here!")