Okay so welcome to the new story!

Now I've done a similar thing in a few other stories with memory erasing taking place--which is always fun. but for this story I wanted to take it to a completely new level with EVERYONE getting their memories kind of erased.

The title for this comes from the album I'll be working off of. I'm going to do something like with 'Silent Force' but this time it will be with AFI's Decemberunderground. I love the album and I'll be working off of it. I might also use some stuff from Tea Party's "transmission" or a few other songs, but that's going to be the main one.

Now this isn't going to be a "Silent Force" rip off. They're going to be different stories. But as much as I love the mechanics of Silent Force with the 1 album/1 story, lets just say I see my writing back then I think its a bit *ahem* different. So I'm going to try the same premise with a different story and my evolved writing style.

So enjoy!

With a crack, the board shattered.

Completing the rotation, Orihime Inoue firmly planted her feet on the ground, her eyes looking at the man standing across from her on holding the two halves of the board. He smiled and straitened up, holding them by his sides. He straitened up, offering her the barest of smiles. Orihime did not move, remaining in her fighting stance, her hands ready to block whatever came her way. After a moment, she realized the man was waiting for her to move. Shaking herself she forced herself to move, to get back into a relaxed stance, pressing her hands to her sides. She bowed to the man, a gesture he returned. The few students gathered nodded their approval before turning and walking away.

"Very good," he said, "you have improved greatly. Where is it that you said you had trained before?"

"Oh, well, I picked things up," Orihime said with a smile, "here and there," she trailed off.

"I see," he said, "continue to improve as you have. You are a credit to your instructors, whoever they may be."

"Thank you sir," she said formally, bowing once more before she turned and left the main room for the locker rooms.

Grabbing her cloths, Orihime quickly walked into the bathroom with the bundle tucked safely under her arm. She undid her uniform and changed into her normal cloths, as fast as her adrenaline fueled movements would let her. Orihime didn't like small spaces, not in the least. It took her two tries before she managed to get the buttons on her jeans to cloths, another three for her to get her socks on properly. Grabbing her hair back into a ponytail, Orihime did up her hair with the elastic looped around her wrist. Grabbing her uniform, Orihime turned to the door of the bathroom.

The lock seemed a million miles away.

It was a small thing, simple and silver, but somehow in that moment it seemed a hundred times more complex than anything she had seen before. Orihime clutched the uniform to her chest as she looked at the lock. In an instant the world was reduced to the pounding of her heart, to the struggle it had become to inhale steadily. Everything else, everything else was little more than foolishness. Nothing else could possibly matter. Orihime felt like she was drowning. In the space of the small cubicle she was drowning. Gasping she took a step back, trying to find space where there was none but all that happened was the back of her knees hit the toilet. Automatically her knees buckled as she sat down hard on the toilet, barely even realizing that the lid was closed.

Bending over, Orihime put her head between her knees, forcing herself to breath. She focused on that, trying to zone out everything but her breathing. She kept her eyes open though. She couldn't bring herself to close her eyes. Darkness would do the exact opposite of helping her in her current state. Exhaling, she waited a moment before she sucked in air once more, trying to stop herself from panicking further. Slowly, only when she felt she was ready, Orihime raised herself up and stood up. The bathroom door was just that once more, a bathroom door. And the lock was once more just a simple piece of plastic. Everything was as it should be. Taking a final deep breath, Orihime smiled faintly and reached out towards the lock. Her fingers touched the cold metal and turned the lock easily. Pushing open the door, Orihime looked at the bathroom. A few women stood at the sink and she could hear more just past the bend where they stood changing. Holding her uniform a bit looser, Orihime took a step forward.

And plunged into oblivion.

"And then what happens?"

Orihime sighed and looked over at the therapist sitting in the chair nearby. She surveyed Orihime from behind a pair of wire rimed spectacles, her face somehow both open and closed off at the exact same time. Orihime turned her gaze back to the ceiling, shifting against the couch cushions in a failed attempt to get comfortable. Unsurprisingly it did not work. The therapist waited patiently. She did not click her pen or tap her foot or even uncross to recross her legs. Until their allotted time was up, the therapist would show no sign of impatience or dislike or any emotion really. And just as the therapist's face was two things, Orihime found she both liked and disliked the alloted span of time and the therapist who she dealt with during it.

"I wake up," Orihime replied, "I fall and I wake up."

"I see," the therapist replied, "and this falling is common?"

"I guess," Orihime said, "but in the dreams with the white castle, I'm going upwards rather than falling. But either way, I always wake up before I see any of their faces."

"But your sure there are other people? People you know?"

"Yes," Orihime said, "I know them but I don't know how I know them. i never see their faces," she let out a breath, "I look for them though. I stopped a man on the street the other day. From the back I thought I knew him."

"And did you?"

"No," she said, "well I knew him, but I didn't feel anything when I saw him."

"How did you know him?" she asked.

"We went to High School together," Orihime said, "but I don't think I said one thing to him during it," she shook her head, "his name is Uryuu Ishida."

"And you never interacted with this Ishida?"

"No," Orihime said shaking her head once more, "nothing past 'hi'."

"You said you've said you didn't have many friends in High School," the therapist began.

"No-one has friends in High School," Orihime said, "not real friends anyway," the therapist nodded as though that made perfect sense, "I just--I want these dreams to stop," she pushed herself up on her forearms, "can't you give me something?"

"Orihime," the therapist looked at her patiently but Orihime knew what her answer would be.

Letting herself fall back on the synthetic leather of the couch, Orihime looked back up at the ceiling and tried to count the swirls in the plaster. She was not going to get sleeping pills and without sleeping pills she was going to get no relief for the strange dreams that continued to torment her. It was pointless and if she was not ordered to be sitting there, Orihime knew that she wouldn't be. But she was and thus there she was, sitting there talking about feelings that didn't really need to be talked about. The rest of the therapy session was quick and relatively painless. The therapist seemed to know Orihime wasn't going to go deeper into her feelings anymore than the therapist was going to get out her pad and write the young woman a prescription.

It was a pretty day out, much nicer than it had been in the office of the therapist.

Orihime walked home from the therapists office, though it took her the better part of an hour. She opened her apartment door with the two deceptively simple locks on the outside of her door. On the other side, however, it was a completely different matter. Locks practically lined the door from top to bottom. Chains and deadbolts and even a keypad all gave the illusion of security. Her windows all locked in two different places. Orihime felt comforted by these things, comforted and yet at the same time she seemed to instinctively know that there was something out there that would be stronger than any locks she could put on the door. Still, with all the metal they had to, at the very least, slow whatever came for her down.

Maybe then she could run.

Reaching up at her throat, Orihime pulled off her scarf and put it on the chair nearby. Her jacket followed but her shoes remained on. Walking into the kitchen, Orihime opened her refrigerator and rooted around until she found the bottle of water she was looking for. Lifting it to her lips she closed her eyes and let it fill her mouth, trickling down her throat. Drinking greedily, she lowered it only when the bottle was almost empty. Leaning back against the refrigerator, she let the water dangle by her side as she took a deep breath. Opening her eyes she looked up at the smooth ceiling above her head. No swirls, no crazy, just endless smoothness. Lowering her head, she let her eyes move across the clean and simple lines of her apartment.

A sound stopped her.

Honestly she would not have heard it if she hadn't been so content in the quiet. But she did hear it, the sound of metal being hit--being rung. Orihime's eyes widened at the chime. Sense's instantly on alert, Orihime slowly moved forward, placing the bottle of water on the countertop next to her. Her hand slid across it until she found the handle of one of the cooking knives in the block nearby. She didn't dare look, didn't dare let her eyes stop their sweep of the space she could see. Silently she pulled it forward, wincing at the soft sound it made as the steel pulled free of the wood. Slowly she moved forward, taking care to place her feet as softly as she could. Rounding the corner of the kitchen, she pressed her back to the wood and stopped, settling herself as best she could before she leaned out an looked around the corner.

There wasn't anything there.

Stepping out full, Orihime still kept the knife close to her as she walked hallway was a dead end and, because of habit, all her doors were locked. There wasn't anywhere that a person could have gone. Walking down the hallway she kept her eyes out for anything. Brow furrowed, she looked around trying to figure out what could have made that noise. Something throwing off the light caught her eye. Frowning, Orihime walked forward a bit more quickly, stopping at the discovery. It was situated just so--perfectly so that if the light hit it correctly as it had been, she would have missed it completely.

Spinning, suspended on a thread so fine it seemed invisible, was a silver bracelet.

Orihime reached out, her hand stopping midway as she snatched it back before she reached out once more and caught the silver object that twisted high above her head. It took one touch for the thread to snap and the bracelet to land squarely in her palm. The silver of the metal was tarnished and dirty, the chain that would have connected the two halves was broken. Fingers curling around the object, Orihime turned around, her eyes casting about for who--or whatever had put the object in her way. But there was not a thing or person in the apartment except for her. All the doors were still locked, all the bolts still bolted. No-one could have made it into the space she was in. But still the hairs on the back of her neck did not settle. Something was off, something was wrong.

Turning to the first room, Orihime reached around her neck for the key she'd always kept there, the one key that could undo every lock. Pulling the chain over her head, she slid the lock into the key and turned it, opening the door. There was no-one there. Retreating from that room she turned to the next one. Opening the door to that room, she once again was greeted with nothing but empty space. But who would have strung the bracelet up there? They couldn't have come in while she was out, not without tripping one of her alarms. A final sweep of the bathroom still presented nothing. Orihime sighed and set the knife on the sink edge. Raising her eye she looked at the woman who stared back at her.

Orihime Inoue did not like what she saw.

Taking a deep breath she leaned forward and blew out, using her breath to fog up the mirror and her reflection. When she was certain her reflection was lost to the puff of her breath, Orihime stepped back. Something caught her eye though. In the corner of her breath, there was a smudge, as if someone had pressed their finger to the mirror. It disappeared, her breath only having revealed a fraction of it. Heart pounding, Orihime leaned forward and exhaled, blowing until the steam from her breath revealed the rest of the message. As soon as it did Orihime wished with everything in her that it hadn't. Written in an almost formal and certainly elegant hand was a single, short message. Short enough to only be one word, one terrifying word.

Run

Taking a step back, Orihime's back collided with the tile of the wall, jerking her into action. She ran out of the bathroom, turning towards the main part of her apartment and the door. But her feet wouldn't move towards that. There was nothing there but all the same Orihime knew that she couldn't get out that way. Something moved, brushing against her shoulder. Orihime gasped and twisted away, pressing herself against the wall. She couldn't see anything but somehow she knew that there was something there. Oh why hadn't she checked the bathroom first? Now she had no-where to go. The same strange thing brushed against her other arm, only this time Orihime could have sworn she felt fingers. Reacting on instinct she ran forward. Another invisible hand reached out to grab her but she shoved it aside, racing as fast as she could towards the only clear thing she could see: the far wall of the hall.

It dead ended, her rational mind and her eyes knew that, but the flight instinct had taken over and this was the only place she could run. So she did, she ran as fast as she could towards the only space she could see. She didn't realize as she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. As she ran towards it, she didn't slow or stop, if anything she gained speed. Every brush she felt of invisible hands or sleeves she dodged or pushed against, but none seemed to catch her. If the two second run to the end of her hall was the only fight she was going to get then fight she was going to. As the wall came up, Orihime spun around, intent on doing something--on doing anything to save herself. She knew when her back should have hit the wall, when her fight should have been over. She knew it.

But it didn't happen like that.

One moment she was ready to hit the wall, to press her back against it in a failed attempt at fighting.

The next she was falling.

She had a glimpse of her apparently deserted hallway, filled with invisible monsters before her view swung to her ceiling as the wall she had planned on flattening herself against simply was not there. Her ceiling was but her eyes found it shared her view with the impossible blackness of another place. Her feet tripped and on pure instinct her arms swung out to find something to grab onto. For a second they brushed against the invisible hand but Orihime forced herself to keep going as she careened backwards, the knife flying out and skidding across her floor. Whatever ground lay behind her--if any did--it was not level with her. All that lay behind her was emptiness. But instead of simply falling, the surprise, confusion and shock seemed too much. She did not remain conscious long enough to discover if there was a floor somewhere underneath her--or if there was a floor at all.

And, just as she had in her dreams, Orihime Inoue fell into oblivion.

Confused?

You probably should be.

But don't worry, it'll be cleared up! In an interesting and dark/twisty way. And YES before you ask there are going to be multiple pairings in it, but I'll tell you right now I'm going to be giving the Shinigami/Arrancar more love. So get ready!

As always, please review! Especially in the beginning it helps me kind of feel out how long the story should be and, well, if there should be a story at all. So lemme know what you think! If you don't wanna review you can PM. Oh, but just a note, if you're going to im me (which people have been doing a lot of recently) I am one of those people who leaves AIM running even when I'm not there. So just keep that in mind.

But as always, I prefer reviews!

So please review!