"Get out, ya dumb broad!" The bouncer tossed the woman through the back door and out into the alley, "And don't come back! It's bad enough yer always comin' in drunk, but yer the only one we get complaints about; none of our other girls' clients ask for refunds." With that he retreated back into the building, slamming the door in her face. The woman said nothing, merely pulling down her left eyelid, sticking out her tongue, and then flipping the bird at the door.
Stupid brothel... She didn't need them anyway! Hell, she could make triple now that she didn't have to give a cut to her pimp! Yeah, that sounded pretty good...
She needed some cheap wine to celebrate her new independence! So one trip to the liquor store later she was one her way to getting rightly soused. She didn't even bother waiting until she got home to her deadbeat husband before letting the liquid courage grace her lips; all he would do is swipe one of her bottles (she bought two) and get himself too drunk to bother going to work the next morning. Not that he did that often anyhow, she brought in more than he did, even when he did bother to earn any money. Hell, she could probably treat herself to a few nice things now that she'd have more money than just the amount for the rent. Oh yeah, and her good for nothing little brat, him too. Maybe she should put a little away so she could send him off to military school or something, so long as he was out of her hair sooner rather than later.
She'd almost reached her street when she finished the first bottle, giggling as she staggered down the sidewalk. She was thinking of all pretty things she's be buying soon enough, when the heel on her shoe suddenly snapped off, tripping her into a pile of garbage bags. She clumsily picked herself up, muttering curses under her breath as she did, and soft crying almost escaped her notice. She dug through the trash for a moment before she found the source of the wailing.
Wrapped tightly in a wicker basket was a baby, not even a year old.
Maybe it was the booze making her not think straight, or some latent maternal instinct fighting to be heard, but something inside her told her not to leave this baby out to die.
...eh, she'd have enough money to keep the little thing alive, at any rate. Besides, she'd always wanted a pet. Leaning against a fence for support, she picked up the basket, cradling it in her arms (she put the other bottle in the basket so she could use both arms) as she carried it back to her pathetic excuse for a home.
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
15 years later...
Orihime was walking back to her apartment, after heading out to the store to buy some groceries. She was in good spirits, having done well at school that day, and having had a run in with Kurosaki Ichigo, the boy with the frowny face. For some reason she had this nagging doubt in the back of her mind that something bad was going to happen soon, but that was to be expected when rain was in the forecast. So she hummed a little nonsense tune, making up nonsense lyrics as she walked, and thinking about what new "radical culinary adventure" she'd make for dinner.
So lost in thought that she didn't notice the car speeding towards her, not until it was almost right on top of her.
She barely had time to scream, however, as she was suddenly pulled by her leg out of the path of the car and flung into a telephone pole, her shopping bag flying down the sidewalk and spilling some of its contents. When she was finally able to think straight again, the car was already speeding off into the distance, and whoever had pulled her to safety was long gone as well. Her leg hurt where she was grabbed (it was starting to turn black and blue), as did her arm where she'd hit the pole, though not quite as much. However, her arm was bleeding; probably cut on one of the edges of the base. She retrieved her shopping bag and grabbed the new First Aid kit on the bottom, pulling out the gauze, disinfectant, and Ace bandage.
For most of her life her brother had done most of the cooking for her. After his death (and once she started living on her own) she quickly found that cooking wasn't as easy as her brother made it look, and she quickly became proficient in dealing with minor cuts. While some might say her cooking left something to be desired, she had since been able to make her own meals without injuring herself 99% of the time.
Which was why she even had a kit on her in the first place, because most of the stuff in her old one needed to be replaced anyhow.
Once her arm was taken care of she attempted to stand up again, grabbing the pole for support. She succeeded, finding that as long she didn't put too much pressure on the injured leg she could still walk reasonably fine. After picking up her spilled groceries (most of it was fine, though the produce was slightly bruised) she continued on, even meeting Kurosaki and the new girl in the park on the way.
Still, even though nothing else happened on her way home, she couldn't quite shake that feeling of foreboding, like the incident with the car was the prelude to something worse.
Corruption level: 0.2%