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Prologue.
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I can't say that I've ever taken a plane ride before. Ever since I was young, it was either by car, bus, train, bicycle or even just walking. If anything, the closest I've ever been to one was whenever I looked up and saw them fly by overhead. Despite being miles above me, I could just faintly hear the roar of its engines and the saw the white trails that it would leave in the sky, like it had piece of chalk drawing into the blue with a material the same as the clouds.
Really, whenever I had thought about flying in a plane before I would feel lightheaded and a bit warmer, and my hands would give the smallest tremble. It's not that I'm scared or anything…just nervous. Or maybe more like anxious at the thought.
I mean, living my whole life in one place and suddenly in a matter of a day I'm going to be half miles away, across an entire ocean, no less!
Of course, the flight itself wasn't too exciting, really. I really appreciated the airline's consideration when they provided a pillow and a blanket—since the air conditioning was actually a bit more than I was used to—but sitting in an aisle seat with hundreds of other people, with nothing to do but wait for the plane to shakily land after turbulence, the frightful take off and fierce rumbling of the cabin when we would cross what the pilot called "jet streams". And as we ascended, I could feel pressure building up in my eardrums, making it a bit hard to hear and definitely uncomfortable, but luckily the old man sitting next to me was nice enough to give me a stick of gum to chew which really worked! I guess he's flown a bunch of times or heard that trick somewhere, but still, I said my "thank you" and he simply nodded back in reply.
But to think that nowadays airlines have television screens at the back of everyone's chairs! It was so cool that I was totally lost in fumbling around for a bit for the first few minutes. The old man sitting next to me had a good laugh when I accidently changed the language settings to Arabic so I had to wait for a flight attendant to help me change it back. Now I admit that I'm not too good with technology. Heck, I don't even own a cell phone.
I think that I began to whine out loud when I went to one screen, because the kind old man next to me chuckled a bit. I couldn't help but blush but he was nice enough to help me out again.
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It was around dinner time; we had the choice of having either salmon or chicken with their unique side dishes when I heard "And…what brings you…to Japan, miss?" The old man had eventually gotten around to asking me as he took his plastic knife to spread a bit of butter on his bread.
"Well, I'm actually part of a Study Abroad program for my major…I mainly want to be a teacher, though!"
"Oh, a teacher…you know, in Japanese, teacher translates to 'sensei'…" We had continued exchanging translations which had before we even realized it ourselves a sort of competition to see who knew what of the other language.
"Yes." The old man said in an interrogative manner as though it were a difficult question.
"Hai." I nodded and smiled broadly much to his approval. Looking toward the screen in front of me, a digital map displayed the path the plane had taken along with an estimated time of arrival and other bits of information, but what excited me the most was that the islands were already in view on the map.
This was all anew experience for me away from what I had grown from but also a chance for my first practical use of five semesters of Japanese classes.
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As I entered the terminal, the sound of a bustling airport filtered into my ears. Unlike the relative quiet and droning of the plane for the last few hours, what lay before me was…loud.
I continued walking ahead, with my backpack snug and carry-on luggage tugged behind me, into the wide and high ceiling of the Arrivals terminal. All around me I could hear names called out, people cheering as they spotted a family member and the muffled speaker announcing in three…no, four languages about a car being illegally parked at the Departures terminal drop off.
Looking around, a bright strike of orange had caught my attention, making me forget for a moment that someone was picking me up. As a small crowd passed by to clear my view, it seemed that the orange "patch" seemed to be moving. To be more specific, it was the hair of the boy moving walking toward me.
And then I noticed that in his hands piece of white printed paper, on it was written a name in katakana, although it was hard to read since it was lowered.
Immediately the man furrowed his eye brows at me, as though he were reading my mind. In response, I gave off a sheepish "eep".
"Ore no kami ka?" He asked in a jaded way, as though this were a common occurrence for him. Standing there expectedly for an answer, it was obvious that he became a bit impatient with me and my lack of a response. "Is…it-a…mai…hay-lu?"
Now I was quite surprised with that unexpected bout of English from him, but thinking again, it shouldn't have been since he was part of my host family, right? Well, I think…
"Shi-shitsureishimashita…" I quickly apologized with a small bow. "I-I guess it might be the jet lag?" It wasn't a complete lie. I mean, his orange hair had struck me as different. Not to say my own hair color wasn't considered really "normal" per se, since I had been dying it since I was fourteen. Actually, I'm not really sure what my hair color is anymore.
…I was sure that I spoke with as clear and concise Japanese as I could in my tired state, since I did manage to pass my finals even after a marathon of House the night before. Giving a small but awkward smile, I nervously combed my hand down my hair, realizing it being a bit frizzy from being pressed against a chair for more than ten hours and my lack of a shower.
"Oh." He finally said. I guess… Scratching his chin, it seemed that the spiky haired man had dropped the subject as he reached out to take my luggage. Again with that bit of surprise I lurched away from his grasp, something that seemed to be perplexing to him.
Without saying a word, the orange haired man reached into his pants pocket to reveal my picture, the one I had submitted to the Study Abroad Program. Geez, yet another embarrassment for me…
Keeping my glance in the opposite direction, I simply rolled my luggage over to him as I finally was able to read the sign; it was in fact, my name. Without a word, he began to walk towards the luggage turnabout with my back lugged right behind him.
"Uh, Inoue Orihime-desu." I introduced myself with another smile, walking with rushed steps closely after him until I was finally able to be side-by-side.
"Kurosaki Ichigo." He replied distractedly, focusing on avoiding the rush of people weaving to and fro. With a quick glance at me, I managed to see his clear brown eyes before he looked ahead again.
And with that, I was officially in Japan.
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Author's Notes: I will not apologize for taking so long to publish/update on fanfiction. I will not make any promises to try to make it up to you guys by making some kind of update schedule and risk watering down whatever quality I would've had had I taken my time instead. I've let a lot pile onto my plate for the last few years, so I've got to focus on that.
I will apologize though for not at least updating my profile to address these priorities in my life, since apparently a few of you will think/have that I've been dead the past while...which is kind of weird to say...
Anywhoo, this story idea came to me a while ago after rereading http://www(.)onemanga(.)com/Bleach/237/17/ and http://www(.)onemanga(.)com/Bleach/237/18/ because it is one of the most adorable things I've ever read. It's just that I've never had the courage to do it justice until now. Make sure to remove the parentheses from the links, btw.
legalities
Bleach is property of Shonen Jump and created/drawn by Tite Kubo
