Note: Kind of an unusual story behind the story for this one. One of the scenes was written for a completely different story that has been abandoned, so the order is way out of whack. Well, I'm sure no one finds this interesting. Sex. Explosions. Messy kisses with tongue. More sexy. Full frontal nudity, like all the good bits. Whole lots and lots of sex. There. Those words should bring the interest back.

...It isn't? Shucks.

Story flirts a bit between T and M Rating, but I chose T; please let me know if you disagree.

Probably one-sided IshiHime, definitely one-sided IchiOri, and light IchiRuki. IshiChad from neither side but I'm sure there is an unintendedl subtext that yaoi fangirls can use to put words in my mouth. Yeah, that's what people want to read in a note like this or a summary, amirite?

I'm not too happy with how this turned out, as I often am, but I'm glad I was able to finish this story. Enjoy it or hate it with great passion!

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

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Impurification

---

Without mercy, the stench of blood, doubled with the smell of pained sweat, hit Orihime and she flinched. So troubling was the face of defeat.

Tick tock, tick tock. Be quick, his time is short.

No, must not be afraid, Orihime. He wasn't scared when he took the blow for her. In the middle of a chaotic battlefield, in the Winter War, an enemy broke past him and headed straight for Orihime. She figured she was doomed but he ran like the wind to block a finishing blow when she couldn't defend herself...again...Got to be more brave. More like, got to bebrave, in the first place. She wasn't a little girl any more.

Tick tock, tick tock. Don't make any mistakes; don't have time to afford any.

Distantly, she heard Ishida's stifled groans as she regained her composure and resumed the task at hand. First, she removed his not-quite-white coat...shuddering at the sheen of red underneath...but soon all thoughts of gagging from the sight of his ripped entrails were lost as focusing her mind and directing her spirits assumed full concentration.

Tick tock, tick tock. Turn back the clock, give him more time.

An image of Ishida Uryuu entered her mind, of him as she knew the Quincy before his stomach was mutilated and ruined. This is what mattered most in her healing, she found: having knowledge of what the person should have looked like before whatever...accident befell them. Hence, performing medical operations on her friends, those closest to her, were the easiest of all for Orihime, in more ways than one.

In particular, she could heal Kurosaki with hardly a broken sweat. Err...sort of, since the anxiety she would experience from Kurosaki being injured made her sweat bullets. At least the healing was "easy," though.

Before Orihime, magic worked itself on Ishida's abdomen. Similar to a video being rewound, blood flowed back into his body, and then threads of sinewy flesh snaked over the archer's ruptured viscera, quickly covering it with a fine mesh of healthy, spreading skin. His lesser wounds gave way without any scabbing, and scars from previous battles disappeared to boot. Even the cracks in his glasses experienced this amazing reversion, once again appearing brand new.

Furthermore, the ragged breathing slowed to a normal pace. The light cover of sweat from his fever cleared away, as well. Now, Ishida felt as great as he did mere hours ago, before he stood in front of the gates of hell.

Amazed, as everyone touched by Orihime's miraculous hand is, whether they want to be or not, Ishida sat up and looked at his benefactor in wonder.

"How are you feeling? Better now?" inquired Orihime with an unusually brisk tone, putting a firm hand on Ishida's shoulder and locking onto his eye. She entered full doctor mode. Startling, how much more mature she appeared now than a few minutes ago when Kurosaki was under her metaphorical knife.

Ishida broke eye contact and hung his head. "...Yeah...You're amazing, Inoue. It's like I can't even remember being hurt now...of..."

Despite herself, she was flattered. "Really?" she asked, but looked suspicious at his uncovered stomach. "You're sure there's nothing wrong? That it's fully healed?"

Tick tock, tick tock. Time to start up again.

"Yes...I...You're unbelievable...Inoue. Much more than..."

Tick tock, tick tock. This course of Fate has not been averted.

---

What this girl does is not healing. She does nothing to truly help those that she offers...salvation...to. While it may seem she creates a miracle upon first glance, the true horror beneath her efforts will always surface, eventually. You see, healing can be done in two different ways: regeneration or repair. For the individual cells in our body, it is their Fate to die and be reborn once again. Death is integral to the process, and necessary for the new cells to usher in. Just as it is in the relationship between the spirit world and the Earth. Of course, most of us cannot afford to die, since we so selfishly cling to life, thus reparations must be done when rebirth is not an option. To repair is to attack the calamity at the source, to burn whatever malady it is out of your body. A prolonged battle that returns things to how they were.

---

The cicadas chirped wildly that day. Above all else, that is what Ishida would remember; the deafening din of their frenzied, incessant singing.

Why their noise stood out so strongly made little sense to Ishida. After all, Inoue was there. Normally, Inoue's presence superseded every other peripheral sense. Definitely, the sound of of a clock ticking, slowly, steadily, was drowned out. Many other details in the classroom were lost, as well. Ah, not to say that Ishida did not notice how Inoue looked! Far from it. Really, every single, individual strand of orange hair, her focused blue eyes, the way her white shirt clung to her chest with heavy perspiration, all that stood vivid in his mind. For whatever reason, though, those little insects' mighty song overwhelmed everything else, even his brief glimpse of her creamy, white thighs.

Aurally, nothing in the cicadas' buzzing sounded different than normal from a casual listen...yet, that day, there was...something...in their songs that almost made it reverberate like an elegy. Disgusting. They seemed so pathetic to Ishida.

Powerful light from a setting sun in a red sky blinded he and Inoue to accompany the cicadas' chorus. Perhaps it would have been best to close the curtains, shut the windows and turn on the lights, but neither he nor Inoue would choose to needlessly waste energy like that. Also, it was hot. Probably the hottest day so far that summer. Anyways, the school possessed no air conditioning so the windows had to stay open, otherwise the two risked getting heat stroke.

And Ishida would not let Inoue take an unnecessary risk like that.

Suddenly, the cicadas' sang at an even higher intensity. A hint of desperation could be detected in their tone. Slowly, the sun crept closer to the horizon while still sending blazing white rays of light into the room.

Heh. Maybe Ishida did get heat stroke then, because his words to Inoue would never have been spoken if he was in an ordinary state of mind. Nah, not heat stroke. Possibly that cheap cafeteria sushi he ate for lunch played a role since his stomach ached something fierce...No. Most likely, those damn cicadas and their damn screeching had something to do with it.

"Inoue," he abruptly spoke her family name.

She blinked. "...Huh?" Neither had spoken for some time; both had been placed under a spell by the cicadas' never-ending melody...Lost in their sewing...Yet Ishida had broken it. "Oh!" Inoue nearly leaped out of her desk. "What is it, Ishida?"

"It's Kurosaki," he elaborated with tight lips, uncomfortably aware of the light that name lit in her eyes when he or anyone mentioned the man. Only for that man.Was he insane to bring up the topic he knew should never be brought up before her? Don't answer that. "Getting close to him...is not a good idea. Not since we came back here. He's dangerous around anyone other than Rukia. No one else's presence can help him tame that Hollow of his...Please, don't try 'healing' the Hollow again...It's his problem, not yours."

The sun's rays hit the back of her head, causing shadows to hide Inoue's eyes. Under Ishida's analytical gaze, a slight flaring of nostrils was not missed. He could see her lips move, yet his ears heard nothing from her. Lightly, Inoue's body shook for a second before stopping.

Cicadas filled in the void of the brief silence with that enthusiastic dirge.

A sharp pain hit him in the abdomen and, immediately, Ishida regretted his actions. He lowered his head in shame and the heat from the room--or was it from Inoue?--engulfed him. Why did he have to to tell her all that? Yes, it was the truth, he knew it, but who cared to hear such words? Lies were all the more comforting, no matter how deceptive they might be. They made Inoue smile. Great, now Inoue likely wouldn't want to show up to the Handicrafts Club again.

"...I know." He looked up and saw Inoue. Huh? No tears were in her eyes, only resolution...Far more than he expected..."I know, Ishida," she repeated herself, "I've always known. How could I not? I know Kurosaki best. Trust me," she pleaded softly but it wasn't begging, "I believe more than anyone else that Kurosaki can solve his Ho...his problem, on his own. If anyone is capable, he is! For sure. Though, I would do anything if Kurosaki..." she trailed off.

And Ishida went silent, too. Yet, he kept his gaze locked with Inoue's.

No tears filled the rim of Inoue's eyes, but they still looked sad to Ishida. Or did they? Maybe he was only projecting his own feelings onto her, or just seeing what he wanted to believe she felt.

"...But," Inoue went on, "thanks for being concerned about me, Ishida."

And the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile, creating a stunning display of beauty at dusk. Dancing to her smile's tune, Ishida's pulse quickened and his insides lurched.

What to say? This conversation was too dangerous. Ishida had been prolonging it, and wasn't even supposed to start it today. Going further could only end in ruin. She wasn't prepared to hear what he wanted to say next...nor was he ready to say those condemning words.

In the crimson air, the golden orb of light shrank ever smaller. Conversely, the cicadas shrieked in a record-breaking symphony.

"Damn it!" Ishida cursed, taking advantage of this development. "Can't they shut up for one second?"

"Can you blame them?" Inoue asked, squaring in on Ishida. "Don't you know? The cicadas spend seventeen years underground, and only have ten days, at most to roam around before they die. What's wrong about them living when they finally get the chance to? This is their once in a lifetime opportunity."

Ishida looked askance at her. "Of course I know that! What do you take me for? I am, after all, the number one student in the entire school. Still, they have no reason to be so loud. They've always annoyed me. They interrupt my studying, my sleep, eating." He stared emphatically at Inoue." Time with my friends. Cicadas should learn how to become adults properly so they needn't be so obnoxious in their mating season."

"I think they're amazing," sighed Inoue dreamily, and she turned to watch the yard outside the window. Where the cicadas were performing their concert, quite likely. "Waiting a whole lifetime for an opportunity of love...voicing their desires for all to hear...I wish I could also..."

She trailed off again, and he was fixated on her words. At last, a cool breeze swept through the room and Inoue's hair billowed in it gently. But Inoue and Ishida were too busy listening to the cicadas to have noticed the wind. Too preoccupied looking out the window to share a glance.

Did everything Ishida say have to work against him? No, he was just inconsiderate. "...Foolish..."

To be honest, Ishida was not sure who he was referring to.

...Eventually, the sun vanished below the city and darkness spread forth.

Ishida put a hand on Inoue's shoulder, trying not to pay too much attention to how nice it felt. "We should probably get..."

Shocked, he paused. His words echoed noisily against the room's walls.

The cicadas had stopped their tenor. Only the dull beat of a clock remained to fill the void.

Both students froze. Ice filled Ishida's stomach.

"...They're dead," Inoue whispered, staring outside. The cicadas, that is.

Quickly, Ishida shook his head. "No. They can't be. While cicadas do die shortly after they finally find a mate and reproduce, it's impossible that all of them could have done so at the same time."

His explanation was true. However, Inoue did not appear convinced. Another problem with the truth: people often refused to believe it.

"Come on, let's go," he pulled on Inoue's arm and dragged her out. Staying would only do harm and, besides, it was late.

Yes, those cicadas had chirped like mad all day, yet there was no need to be spooked by them finally shutting up.

But, thinking harder on it, Ishida figured their singing wasn't so intoxicating because it was so excessive. No, he probably couldn't get it out of his mind since the silence when they finally stopped had been so eerie. So frightening. When their hopeful cries ceased, it was difficult not to lose hope, too.

Surely, this was an...

While walking with an arm around Inoue's shoulder, Ishida suddenly cried out and collapsed to the floor...Luckily, Inoue was not pulled down with him.

The ice at the pit of his esophagus had turned to fire and threatened to burn away his entirety. A memory of a battle, scant few months ago, flashed in his mind, and the feel of steel piercing him with it. Could this pain be...?

...No. Impossible!

"I-Ishida!"

Inoue cried out, and a pleasant warmth, opposite of the scorching heat in his abdomen, caressed his head as Inoue drew him to her lap.

His glasses must have fallen off at some point, as the expression on Inoue's face above was blurred. "...What the hell is...?" sputtered Ishida, every syllable intensifying the unbearable sensations in the middle of his body.

"Shhh. Quiet, don't speak," hushed Inoue, lightly caressing his head. Already, the agony was lessening. "I don't know what's happening to you, but I'll make things better. Relax"

But that sounded completely wrong to Ishida's ears and did not ease his mind. He was the one who should be doing the...

Silently, only the noise of Inoue working hard to stop his suffering and a damn clock filled the dark classroom.

...Dammit. Where did those cicadas go?

---

On the surface, it would seem this girl is curing those in her care, but the reality could not be removed further away from this notion. Turning back the clock...it is neither repairing nor regenerating the wounds. By stopping death, it denies an essential process of rebirth. Choosing to run from the battle against calamity, how could her methods possibly be considered repairs? No, she provides no path to resuscitation by any means.

Only an escape from truth...

---

Hidden in the woods, Ichigo viewed his new world with wonder.

The trees were green before, that's what Ichigo thought, but they seemed so much more colorful now. Each individual leaf was suddenly a work of art that stunned him; each vein a masterful stroke of the brush, with highlights provided by the bright morning light. A faint smell of dew seconds ago now assailed him as a potent aphrodisiac, enticing his nostrils. Bothersome before, the chirping of the forest critters became beautiful orchestrations to his ears.

Miraculously, the golden-haired goddess next to him--still heaving from exertion--had done the unthinkable: Kurosaki Ichigo was reborn anew.

Staring at Inoue, the creator of this impossibility, his eyes widened further. "I...I don't believe it!" he gasped.

She grinned and put a hand behind her head. What a true friend. He was glad he finally swallowed some of his pride and asked for a little help.

"How is this even possible?" asked Ichigo, pinching himself. Oh yeah, this was no dream.

"It was simple," giggled Inoue. "At one time, it wasn't part of you, so that's all I had to think of."

Uh...

"...Huh? I don't get it. How does that explain anything?"

Inoue pursed her lips. "It's like an anime...Mechs aways get upgraded. All the time. Like, how Super Dimensional Space Station Omicron XS did in this really cool episode to defeat Grand Overlord Perseon's battleship. Ishida's and my favorite episode..." Her voice got excited with the memory of awesome laser beams and sweet explosions..."But the blueprints for the original still exist, no matter what upgrades are built in. And all I did was think of those blueprints for your bodyand readjust your main capacitor and..."

Ichigo's face blanked. This made even less sense than one of Rukia's drawings...Okay, perhaps Inoue wasn't being that hard to understand.

"Okay, okay!" he stopped her...her whatever-she-was-talking-about. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. Ha! He's gone now, that's what matters. And it's all thanks to you, Inoue. Really, your powers are truly amazing."

Her face crimsoned. Kind of cute, he thought, like Yuzu got whenever he complimented her cooking. But Ichigo didn't think Inoue should be this shy about her abilities. Truly, she was spectacular.

"Oh, it...it was n-nothing, Kurosaki," stuttered Inoue. She brushed dust off her uniform that didn't exist, and took a deep breath. "I would do anything for you..."

"Why should you do that?" The Substitue Shinigami's expression darkened. "I screwed up so badly in Hueco Mundo...Real bad..." Inoue's lips moved to deny, but not quickly enough to avoid being cut off by Ichigo. "You're not in my debt, Inoue. You don't need to do anything for me. No, I am the one that should be thinking of a way to repay you for all the times you've pulled me away from the edge of death." He smiled at her. "Yeah, I owe you."

Stunned, Inoue could think of no reply. So all she could do was her best to match Ichigo's smile.

"Come on, we should get out of this forest," he suggested. "Rukia and everyone will be wondering where we are."

She agreed. "Y-Yeah. We wouldn't want any rumors to spread..."

"Eh, why would anyone start rumors?" replied Ichigo, clueless, as he initiated a brisk pace through the woods...and set himself well apart from Inoue without realizing.

"I'm not sure..." Inoue laughed oddly.

He didn't get her at all. "Well, I gotta thank you again, Inoue," his words oozed true sincerity. "Really, I appreciate this so much. I'm more thankful than ever and it's tough to think of the words...but it means the World to me!"

Excited, Inoue closed the gap between the two. Almost to the point of bumping elbows. "Like I said, Kurosaki, I'd do anything for you."

In response, Ichigo scowled at her...but it was obvious his heart simply wasn't in it. "I already told you that you don't owe me a thing, Inoue," he exasperated. Thinking of a certain reunion at school, or maybe at home, he felt more certain of this than ever. That asking for assistance was the right choice. "Getting rid of that...that fucking Hollow, Inoue, I finally don't need to worry anymore."

Nothing had ever scared Ichigo more than that freak. Or, rather, what the loss of control could entail.

"That's...really great, Kurosaki!"

"Yeah." He beamed. "At last, I can get closer to Rukia without being plagued by thoughts of that monster destroying her."

As soon as ground was made, the distance between the two grew anew and the girl next to Ichigo tripped, falling flat.

The hero that he is, Ichigo did not hesitate to be concerned. "Whoa! You all right, Inoue?!"

"...Yeah," mumbled Inoue, slowly pulling herself to her feet with a grimace. Smiling seemed the last thing she would do now.

Strangely, Ichigo did not seem to care about her plight as much as he should. A...distraction...a force that he imagined--since it did not exist--tugged the back of his eyeball, and Inoue's ample cleavage revealed had Ichigo's full attention. The false pulling gained strength.

"...Er, Kurosaki?"

Oh, he was staring. The pressure on the back of his head went away, not that Ichigo believed it was there in the first place.

"Right, let's go!" He pushed past Inoue, forgetting about her little pratfall.

For the rest of the walk back to school, Ichigo was at an impasse. He did not dare look in Inoue's direction, but he could not face her, either.

Rukia.

So, he focused on a tower rising from Karakura High School. A clock tower...? Had that always been there? Ichigo lived near the school all his life, but he couldn't recall there being any...No. No. He could. It had always been there...

...Ding...dong...

---

Running away from pain, agony, suffering, will never cause you to feel amelioration. Yes, it may appear to better one's self for a time, but a memory of the anxiety will linger and never fade away. Obstinate, this recollection will persist and make itself ever louder. Your ears can be plugged, but the mind cannot be silenced so easily. This girl tries her best to close your conscience's mouth for you, rather than opposing the pain, rather than healing you--and she does mean well!--but it is simply a naive immaturity, on her part.

---

Loudly, the string snapped in two and a distorted note echoed in the room.

Frustrated, but not enough to curse, Chad stared at his bass guitar, now with only three working chords. Well, no use complaining about. Quickly, Chad untied the string and threw it out, then rummaged in his guitar case for a replacement. Using large, almost-clumsy fingers--unfortunately, too big for lead guitar--he attached the new chord to his bass. Satisfied with the repair, Chad plucked the chord, listening intently to the sound it made. After pulling the other strings, he plucked the new one again, his ears carefully noting the pitch. Thinking hard on the notes, he made adjustments to the pegs. And he started the process again.

Tuning could be tedious, but Chad always enjoyed it. Enjoyed getting involved with his music. Being alone with it. That's why he was practicing in the school by himself, after hours, in an empty room, without any students to disrupt his internal harmonization. Of course, being with the band would have been better, but Chad felt increasingly uncomfortable being in large groups since his latents powers emerged.

And today he found the most unusual room to practice in...

Midway through his tuning, a trapdoor burst open and a tall, thin man dashed up, inside Chad's newfound sanctuary. After checking both directions of the hallway, the intruder slammed the door shut, closed his eyes and sighed in relief. Relaxed, the student clutched his stomach and slid down to the floor.

Surprised though he was that someone burst in on him, Chad was even more astonished to realize he knew this bizarre, bespectacled person.

"...What are you doing, Ishida?"

Ishida's eyes popped open in alarm and he hurried to stand up. He only then realized he wasn't alone.

"S-Sado?!" He gaped. His glasses had slipped down the bridge of his nose. "I was..." Ishida began in a bluster before calming down and pushing his glasses up. "...What are you doing here in the tower? I thought no one else would be..."

Precisely and with no flourishes, Chad strummed his out-of-tune bass. Then, he looked at Ishida, expectant for a counter...Hmm, maybe it was weird to be playing in a dark room next to a giant bell, actually...

Not anticipating such a quick reply, Ishida's mouth flapped before his wit caught up to his mouth. "You see...I came in here for...for sewing supplies! Ha ha ha!" His chest puffed up and he laughed uproariously.

There was no way Ishida could be telling the truth.Chad knew this, but preferred not to pry and chose to make no comment yet.

Instead, he resumed work on his bass.

Awkwardly, both hung around the empty room. The twanging of Chad's bass was the only sound and, occasionally, Ishida would glance down at the trapdoor from the bottom of his eye--apparently concerned with what may or may not be on the other side.

To pass the time, Chad figured, Ishida abruptly asked a question. "Hey, Sado, do you know where Inoue is?"

"Inoue?...You need her for something?"

"No! I don't need her or anything like that." He clutched his stomach possessively. With pride. "But I do wonder where she is...not with Kurosaki, right...?"

"Haven't seen either of them, so I wouldn't know."

"I see...Sado, have you been feeling any weird pains, lately? Not so much pain, but the...memory of it?"

Chad's right arm twitched and a different string split in half.

Damn...! Of all the...!

"...Why do you ask?" Chad calmly replied, firmly choosing not to let the newly broken string bother him for another moment. He decided that energy would be better spent fixing it

A pause.

"...No reason."

There. All done. The bass was good as new again. Good thing he didn't get frustrated with it.

Oh, Chad should answer that question. "No. No, I haven't felt anything like that."

And the silence returned, though it was soon hidden by Chad tuning his bass yet again.

"...I have to admit, Sado, I'm a bit curious. Who are you trying to play like?"

Chad stopped tuning to talk.

"...A Mexican," he reluctantly answered.

"A Mexican? Which one? I'm not too familiar with Mexicans that play electric guitar."

It's a bass. "I'm not trying to make music that sounds like anyone else's. I just want it to sound distinctly Mexican, while creating my own style." Which is tougher than it sounds when you play a background instrument most audiences ignore.

"...Sounds difficult without anything to base yourself on."

"Heh."

"What?"

"You two are really alike. That's exactly what Ichigo said when I told him this."

Ishida glanced at the door and prepared to fire a retort...

...Then he clutched his abdomen tightly and began shaking furiously.

"Hey! You all right? Ishida?!" Chad rushed to offer assistance.

But Ishida batted it aside, clenching his teeth. "No, it's all right...I'm fine, this happens once or twice a week. Nothing to worry about...it'll...be...over...in...a..." Suddenly, his convulsions stopped. "Second. See, nothing wrong." And he waved a hand to ward away Chad.

"...There's blood all over your shirt."

"What?! That's never..." Ishida looked down in shocked confusion. Seeping through his uniform, a red stain rapidly spread from the vicinity of his navel. Not even pausing to watch in horror, he swung his head up to regard Chad with narrowed eyes. "Don't tell Inoue about this."

Surprised, Chad looked at Ishida in askance. "...Don't tell her...? Are you..." An epiphany was reached. "Ishida, are you hiding from her?"

"...It's for her own good, Sado. I think I know what's been wrong with me these past few months, and it would destroy her to learn that her...She...After the disaster in Hueco Mundo...that she can't..."

As Ishida rambled off, Chad simply listened as he spoke so removed from his personality. Silent and unjudging.

"Just...don't...don't get her to help, Sado." Confidence returned to Ishida's inflection. "I couldn't stand to have her help me again...You understand this, don't you, Sado?"

Yeah. Lost battles, trust slipping away, wasted efforts and crushing defeats throbbed vividly in Chad's recollections. He could understand Ishida a lot better than he liked. Better than Ishida.

"Argh!"

It seemed Ishida's illness would not rest long.

"...You know what, maybe I should get help," Chad decided, and ignored Ishida's protest as he slipped down the trapdoor.

Distantly, a sharp, twitching sensation in Chad's right arm slowly took over his conscience.

Along the way, down the tower, he bumped into someone unexpected and the twitch burst open.

---

This childish course of reasoning is unsurprising, considering the cruel hand Fate has dealt her. From the beginning, she has experienced suffering first hand...Yet, by some twisted design, she never discovered what it meant to tackle her issues head-on, to heal herself. Always, someone else stood in her place and delivered respite to her. Her brother...her best friend...a giant...people keep on jumping in to prevent the spear from reaching the girl's heart. Even now, she looks for a man to play the part of the prince to her princess. Clearly, this history has made an impact on her powers, her almost-uncanny imitation of healing. As her remedy came externally, so too has she been unable to grace herself with benevolence.

---

At the Kurosaki residence.

"Hey, Ichigo, what time is it?"

"Time? Since when did you care about these things?"

Her reply was no request. "You're not going to laugh, Ichigo. Trust me, you don't want to laugh."

"What the hell would I laugh about?" Perplexed, he abrasively voiced his confusion.

"Just don't laugh!"

"Fine."

Intake. "I need to know when the Chappy Happy Hour starts!"

Three seconds: a second for the information to process on Ichigo's face, another for his ribs to crack in a fit of laughter, and one more for Rukia to smack him upside the head.

Red-faced, Rukia snarled, "I told you not to laugh! There's nothing wrong with liking bunnies! They're cute!" Apparently. "So tell me the time, already!"

Still chuckling softly, Ichigo looked at Rukia. At her eyes, shining with excitement despite him lacking her enthusiasm towards Chappy and rabbits, in general. At her mouth, no longer turned down in anger. At those lips, so pink. At the middle of her blouse. Laughter. Her skirt. More laughter. At her...!

He shook the malaise out of his head. "Check the clock, yourself." Like, it was not hard to do.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. You can tell time." He thought she could, at least. "You don't need me to do everything for you."

Bad choice of words, Ichigo.

"That's not it, idiot!" Rukia nearly whacked him again. "The clock in your closet doesn't work."

Ichigo blinked. "In my closet...? What were you...?" He threw his hands up. "Never mind. I don't want to know." Or that's what he told her. "I have a clock in there?"

"Yeah, but it's stuck at one time. It's stopped. It's useless. See?" Rukia bounced to the closet and pulled the busted alarm clock out. Much more closely than necessary, she thrust it in front of Ichigo's face.

The short hand pointed at one, the long hand at the seven. Neither moved, and had not for nearly two years.

"Oh, that," he remembered now. "The night you first came here, it stopped. Took me a couple of days to notice. I threw it in the closet and forgot about it."

"Why not just chuck it out?"

"I thought about that, but didn't want to...Didn't seem right. There's something...special about that clock. It has an air of...destiny...around it."

Rukia snorted. "Destiny? You actually believe in that sort of thing?"

"What? Hell no!" Denied Ichigo, adamantly. He could never believe in Fate...most of the time. "It's just, that clock felt special, since..."

He didn't finish, but Rukia kind of understood. Even now, the clock felt different in her hands. How? Just did, don't ask.

However, one thing did not make sense to her.

"...But what makes you think this broken thing is like destiny?"

Ichigo scowled, not really wanting to explain himself. "Well..." he thought about it, "it's stuck at one time. One moment, and that's always where it will be. Like it was meant to be there. The cogs turned specifically for one moment.You can change a normal clock's hands to a certain moment, but it will just continue and tick on later. But this one...it was as if it was supposed to be captured in that one time for all eternity."

Comprehending (in a way), Rukia nodded. "I get where you're coming from, Ichigo..." But. "...but I'm still mad at this piece of junk."

"What? Why"

The clock shook as Rukia's grip on it grew stronger. "I found it a long time ago. I believed it worked. I just noticed it didn't work a week ago." Go on. "When I missed Chappy's show."

...That's it?

Unsympathetic, Ichigo shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, at least it's right twice a day, unlike a clock that's been turned back a couple hours." Which is constantly incorrect.

Wrong thing to say, though. That's two for two this day, Ichigo. "So what?!" Rukia exploded. "I missed the special festival episode of Happy Happy Bun Fun thanks to this piece of junk!"

Furious, Rukia threw the clock at the floor in anger. Cogs broke loose and a gear popped out. Glass shattered. Nonetheless, the hands remained in the same place.

...Whoops.

"Sorry, Ichigo!" Rukia raced to apologize, not meaning to break the broken clock further. "Lately, I've been feeling weird for no reason, kind of like...well, it's hard to explain..."

Yet, Ichigo did not appear angry. Instead, he looked at Rukia once and quickly turned his head to face his door.

"No, don't worry about it," he dismissed the incident with a wave of his hand. Still looking away from Rukia. "You're right, Rukia. It was a piece of junk. Broken."

"Ichigo...I..."

He moved to the door."I'm going out, Rukia. I can fix this so don't worry about it." Rather, Ishida or Chad could fix it. "It's after six o'clock, by the way, so your show already started."

"...Fine, be a jerk!" Rukia snapped, getting that he wanted to be alone. But she added, "We'll have a nice, long talk later."

"...Whatever."

Rukia started to huff and Ichigo sensed a tirade of epic proportions, but she was cut off when he slammed the door shut behind him. Out of Rukia's sight, a hand quickly went up to clutch one of his eyes.

He needed to get away.

From her, especially.

He was too dangerous.

It felt like an iron fist was reaching through the back of his head to squeeze his left eye.

Inoue's "healing" did not work. That monster was still a part of him...!

"Hey, Ichi, what do you want for-"

Oh, his sweet little sister. Had to get away from her, too.

"Going out. Seeya."

And he brushed by her. In the distance, he could see Karakura High School's belfry. It drew his eye. Where his friends there? Yeah. Must be. That's where they always hung out together. Had to see Ishida. Or Chad. For sure.

For sure, he needed to speak with Inoue about a tiny problem.

---

The saddest part of her pure, though misguided, intentions is that they must grow up, just as much as this girl must. Her false salvation is a juvenile dream, one of many she has. It is also her most dangerous, being the most seductive and easiest to fall prey to. Nonetheless, this girl cannot delude herself her whole life. One day, she must wake from the illusion and grow...become an adult.

If only the knell did not need toll and awaken the whole world at the same time...

---

At seven o'clock, the bell in the clock tower began to ring.

Everything appeared normal at Karakura High School, but that served only to heighten the sheer unnaturalness in the air. None of the structure was damaged in any way--rather, it was in a state of the utmost pristine. Students still went about as usual, though slowly and relaxed. Bit more than usual, but as expected from people lingering so late at school. At the approach of sunset. It was hot...but it wasn't stifling. A few cicadas sang softly in the background, when they weren't being drowned out by the tolling bell.

Normal for this time of day and year.

...But not.

Orihime walked through hallways in a fit of confusion. A wretched, sick sensation ate away at her instincts. Her friends seemed to be avoiding her; Ishida started skipping the Handicrafts Club and Kurosaki had never been alone with her since she cured his Hollow problem, not too long ago. This worried her immensely. What did they want to hide?...Even worse, what if they were being hidden?

Ding dong. The clock rang crisp and clear.

And what about the clock? Why didn't anyone else ask about it? It was baffling. Karakura High School never had a clock tower before. It was not built with one. No construction crew arrived to add one. The belfy never existed until today; it simply appeared with no reason. Yet no one questioned its presence. All the residents at the school Orihime had met so far acted as though it always was there. So...wrong.

Yes, she knew she had friends that should also be astounded by this mysterious, new clock tower. Alas, Orihime had not met them yet that day. Sado, Rukia, Ishida...Ichigo...all four were mysteriously absent, even down to their reiatsu. Quite strange, that.

The bell tolled, the interior of the school somehow magnifying its volume, sending a sense of dread down Orihime's spine.

Her dark premonitions began when Tatsuki phoned her early in the morning, complaining about a headache, saying she wouldn't be able to make it to school. Rising early, skipping school because of a tiny ache. None of it fitted Tatsuki. She immediately offered to help, but Tatsuki refused.

That definitely did not make Orihime feel better.

"Stay out of the way. You can't fight!"

Words spoken to her countless times by too many people returned to the forefront of her memory, unwanted. By all her friends, really, in their own way of trying to protect Orihime. Why couldn't they understand she needed to contribute, just like they did? Didn't they remember how it felt to be left behind?

Ohhh...where could they be?!

Ding dong ding dong.

...The clock tower, perhaps? The center of the weird atmosphere, resonating from every pore of the school would be the perfect place for her friends, also acting so weird, to be...Yes...

"You are too weak, Inoue. A shield, but not one that can withstand blows for very long. Eventually, you will crumble and become only a reminder that your friends failed. It is best for you to stay behind."

Another man's warning, not as kindly put as Kurosaki would have put it. However, Orihime agreed with every word...a bit too much, too easily, probably...and accepted them as reality, but that did not mean her heart ever could handle it well.

...Ding...ding...ding...ding...

Faces blurred as she rushed to the apex of the miasma. The cursed clock and the fiendish bell. Blurring, fading, blending into one silly color. She bumped a few, most likely. Mixing together, blurring some more. Tick tock. Tick tock. Thump, another bump. Gotta go faster...but couldn't...?

A hand pulled at her, stopping her before the bells could ring again. A face that couldn't be smudged away

...Who was this?

"Inoue...he needs help," Sado pleaded, gripping her shoulder strongly with his right arm. "You've got to help him. Both of them."

"Who do I...?" she started to ask, until she looked at Sado and her eyes widened. His right arm, the one grasping her, was shaking. The white sleeve stained red and dripping crimson to the floor. "What happened to your arm?!"

Around them, the occasional passerby didn't seem to notice Sado's wound. What...?

Ding dong...drip drip...ding dong.

"Nothing," he gruffed, tightening his grip and wincing. "It's nothing!" he repeated when she began shaking her head in disagreement. "It's nothing compared to him...both. You need to help them, not me."

...Ichigo was hurt?! Could his Hollow have...? Impossible.

Drip drip.

No time to think about that. "...But, but," she protested. What was going on? How did this happen to Sado? Ah, that's not too important. "You're hurt, Sado!" That was important.

She couldn't ignore something in front of her like this.

"Don't worry about it," he dismissed his wounds. "I'm going to Urahara for help. It's not that serious." He let go of Orihime and pushed her away, in the direction she was originally heading. "Go to the clock tower...help them! Please...Inoue!"

Clock tower? Her eyes narrowed. So it was...

Ding, ding, ding.

First, though, she needed to make certain. She looked at his injury. "You're sure you'll be okay, Sado?"

"Yes...just go!"

Fine. With no more hesistation, she left Sado behind and dashed up to the third floor. Was it her, or was the hallway there longer than normal? No time to think on it...A trail of blood guided her path, though no one else could see it; this motivated Orihime to hurry. Cicadas sang, or she thought they did. Maybe that noise was simply her own beating heart, the anxiety she felt for her friends was so great.

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding! The clock sped up. Or was it slowing down? Whatever the case, this was too surreal.

Ichigo...Ishida, whoever, she was coming for you. Hold steadfast until then!

Just as the bell made one final, mighty din, she reached a door that should not be there. Could not be there.

But it was, and she could sense her friends nearby. Their pain. Coming from behind the door. She could almost hear their horrid gasping this close to them.

Then, Orihime heard her shoes slosh and noticed she had stepped in something sticky. Looking down, she could see something dark and wet sliding out through the bottom crack of the door. The sun's low position did not allow much light to reach that low, but, with a sick sense of awareness, Orihime knew what the dark puddle must be and who it must belong to. Sado wasn't lying, after all. Not that she didn't believe him before.

Behind her, the occasional student would pass by, still entirely unaware. The hallway felt warmer. With the clock silent, the cicadas seemed to grow louder. So did her pulse.

Strangely, despite how frenzied her flight mere seconds had been, Orihime glanced up and saw her hand shaking with fear of the unknown, inches away from the door's handle. Maybe she had made a mistake.

"Just remember that you can't turn back once you make a step forward in this world. You can never turn back."

Memories of a woman, one Orihime respected and almost liked as much as that man she always hung out with, came back to her. She cowered away from the woman's stern look, at the time, but it wasn't so scary anymore. Her hands continued to waver a hair's breath away from the handle.

Not to be forgotten, though, the distant wailing that could only belong to her friends reached new levels. Standing apart, one high-pitched shriek, in particular, struck Tatsuki to the core.

What the hell was she doing?! Disgusted, she scowled at her shaking fingers and the door. At that point, a dull ache started throbbing in her chest. Stop! This was why they kept telling her to stay behind the front lines! Prove them wrong!

Cicadas taunted her with feverish singing.

...Cicadas...

"The cicadas spend seventeen years underground, and only have ten days to roam around before they die. What's wrong about them living when they finally get the chance to? This is their once in a lifetime opportunity."

Her own words Could she have forgotten them so soon?

This was her once in a lifetime opportunity.

Ignoring the fierce fear in her mind, she hesitated no longer and nearly blasted the door apart.

Inside, a flight of dark stairs--...wet stairs?-- that wrapped upwards along the disturbingly-narrow, square walls. In the middle of the narrow spire, gears spun ceaselessly, grinding for eternity, powering the exterior clock and ringing the bell at fixed intervals. Barely any illumination graced this bizarre, heretical chamber--what was there came from the doorway and fissures along the walls--yet there was still enough to see. As for the staircase, it was built along an old-fashioned design, contrast to the modern school the clock tower had invaded. It had no rails for safety and seemed threatening, as a result. While this room looked so old, there was no dust to speak of and it all smelled...new, if anything. Hot as it was outside, it was incredibly cold in here. Walking inside was like leaping into a frozen lake. Furthermore, the cicadas' song became lost within this tower...She missed those little insects...

Splash, splash.

...But who cared about cicadas and how the stairs looked when a surprisingly large pool of blood was at the bottom of the belfry?

Her eyes went white, and her face paled. She should have known about it since...yet, it still disturbed her to see the puddle.

Who...?

Who got hurt to lose so much blood?! She knew who but didn't want to think their names.

How many?!

Ugh, why was she standing around when her only useful skill was needed?!

In a flash, she was going up the flight of stairs, nearly slipping on the slick surface but never falling. No matter how much the gears shook the tower; she would not lose to building. Above, she could hear muffled groaning...Getting louder, louder! Faster, faster! She almost bumped her head on the trap door at the end of the staircase, but Orihime stopped in time to pause and fling it open then spring up to the top floor of the clock tower.

To a scene beyond her nightmares.

Ding dong. Ding dong.

...On one side of the room, Kurosaki, black energy swirling around him as he banged his head against a large, silver bell. A mask--that shouldn't be there!--was in the process of materializing on his face. Countless cuts on his body dripped crimson, but only two or three of them should have kept him from standing. At his feet was his physical body, discarded.

Why didn't her Rejection affect the Hollow?! He said it was gone! Why did Kurosaki lie?!

Ding dong! Ding dong!

...Looking away from that...thing masquerading as Kurosaki, she saw Ishida, leaning against a chair. For the most part, he looked whole and in excellent shape. However...his face was whiter than those Quincy getups he often wore (not now, though), and it would seem a fever had taken hold of him; his breath was coming out in strangled bursts. The man was struggling to stay conscious. More importantly, though, there was a gaping hole in his midsection bleeding profusely! For far too long and more had spilled out of the wound than should have been possible, judging from the ridiculous puddle below. And...that injury seemed oddly familiar...

...How did he get such a major injury...? Oh, it was tough to even look at!

Ding dong! Ding dong!

What the two were doing at the top of this shaky clock tower together, or the why, Orihime would never know. Soon after the trap door flung open, both men reacted to her. Ishida's efforts to keep his cool eyes open grew more strained, and Kurosaki...

"Inoue!" He screamed, painfully. The voice was the same that lifted her heart on so many occasions and was not, at the same time. Just like the last time he took off his veil and became a Vizard. "Why didn't your Healing work?! I...something's...!" He licked his mouth with an unnaturally long tongue and his voice went deeper. "I...want to touch...!" And his eyes, beneath that frightening mask, went lewd.

Luckily...or not, really...Kurosaki coughed up a mouthful of blood and she never learned what he wanted to touch.

Why...What was wrong with her Prince? He wasn't attractive like this! This was too much to take!

...Reject it...

Reject it all!

"Inoue...that won't..."

But Orihime was too busy concentrating on using her powers to listen to the desperate Ishida.

Imagine Kurosaki. Imagine Ishida. Orange hair. Rectangular glasses. Standard school uniforms. A silly, in her opinion, scowl. An emotionless expression that was far from an indicator of how the youth really felt. And no mask. No gaping hole! No blood! No more! No more!

Power took off from her emotions, her fear, as always, and soon her spell would revert the world to how it was. To how it should be. As her abilities should be.

Orihime breathed a sigh of relief as, instantly, Kurosaki returned to his normal self and, thank god, Ishida became healthy once more. Accordingly, the two boys looked shocked by how soon their pain went...

Ding dong! Ding dong!

"No, Inoue, it's no use..."

Before Ishida even finished his warning, he could no longer speak on account of his closed--she thought it had closed--injury...reopening...? Next to him, a stunned Kurosaki hardly had time to look at Inoue in awe before the Hollow took hold of him again.

...That is...

...What was happening?

Her powers...didn't work? Orihime was at a loss. If she couldn't heal...what could she do...?

No!

She was imagining things!

Reject again. And again. Again! And again! As many times as it takes!

So that's what Orihime did.

And...same result.

Every time.

What was wrong with her?! Those two needed her help!

"...Inoue...Don't worry about us..."

...Huh?

Ishida stood up straight...The bell stopped, and the belfry was no longer shaking. Cicadas were singing loudly...What was Ishida doing...? With a horrible wound like that...he was going to kill himself!

In the middle of the room, Orihime was unsure whom to run to...but faced Ishida. "No, stop it!" she yelled at him. He would kill himself if he kept going like this!

Meanwhile, Kurosaki fell to the floor. At last, agony overwhelmed the Hollow, too.

But Ishida still stood. Orihime's gaze fluttered back and forth, between the two. "It..." he coughed violently and staggered. "It...doesn't matter if I die." Yes, it did! Couldn't he see that?! "So long as...you don't, I don't..."

Her vision lost its clarity. The room and the two inside went out of focus...Great, was she crying again? Of course...

"Stop talking!" she ordered Ishida desperately. "I'll stop this...this madness! Just rest and I can help you both!"

Brightly, despite the darkness, Ishida smiled. Looked as though he realized something very important.

"Yeah...I'm sure you can..."

Phew, he was finally talking...

...He was no longer standing...

...He was collapsing to the floor...?

The cicadas went silent and the room's stillness became more pronounced than ever.

"Ishida!"

She made her choice and ran to his fallen body.

"Ishida!"

She shook his body, but he didn't move. At all.

No...He couldn't be...

No, she refused to think it and give up. Yet, that was running away...

Running away...That wouldn't do, either.

He didn't run away, did he? He stood as long as he could. For her, no less. Couldn't she do the same?

"I..."

Instead of escaping, Orihime should be embracing this pain...Rather, battling it.

"...I..."

All around her, there was so much agony. Orihime could feel it.

She took it all.

"...I...re..."

It hurt so much, this pain.

...But it was also...strangely...empowering...?

"...I re...I...I...repurify!"

Light flared from Orihime, coruscating the entire room in a blinding array.

---

However, all will not be for naught! For this realization, this breaking of pretense, this maturation of the soul, will be healing for this girl. When the dam bursts and she is forced to recognize her deceit as it is, her soul will be purified. Then...and only then...she will finally know what it means to be reborn, to repair herself. At this point, her panacea will not be fake at all. In turn, what she does for other people will become blessings without taint, as beneficial to her as the ones under the knife. She will bloom, then, and shine on as a beacon of hope. Brighter than the sun and eclipsing the moon.

---

"...Hey, Uryuu."

"What is it, Orihime?"

"You'll protect me from now on...right?"

---

...But how long will it take for summer to arrive and the springtime of her life to truly end?