A/N: A few scenes in this story are shared with the anime. This chapter is probably the most redundant; it might seem like a carbon copy at this point, but trust me when I say that won't last for long. :) And to answer the previous review, this story will end just before the start of the Soul Society Arc – though, if there's a lot of interest, I might decide to extend it.
2. Pinocchio
Tatsuki stood motionless, staring up at the skyward monstrosity with wide eyes.
A loud crack – like the splitting of a bulletproof window – jolted her from her stupor. Jagged black lines sprouted from the edges of the rift in the sky, shooting down to the ground and all around. They pulsed like veins, trembling violently – and then, four white spikes burst through one, emerging just below the mask. They closed around the edge of limbo, grasping the blue expanse like a sheet of fabric, tearing the gap open wide. The mass of shadow began to move into reality, stepping forward with a giant, pointed boot. The white sole landed with a boom.
All of that was more than enough to get Tatsuki to move. By the time the footfall shook the ground, she had dashed into the nearby trees, turning behind one of the trunks and pressing her back to the wood. She peered out past the edge of her hiding place, scaling the towering beast with her eyes, stopping upon the metal spikes that formed a dog collar above the hole in its body.
That wasn't the monster from before. Not even close! The freaking thing was huge! Taller than the office build–
A flurry of automatic gunfire echoed through the air. Almost instinctively, Tatsuki's head whipped towards the sound. Through the distant tree trunks were... That looked like a group of people. Two men in weird-looking outfits, a boy holding some kind of club, and a little girl in a long pink skirt.
Firing a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher.
Tatsuki gawked at the far-off scene, her left eye twitching. That... can't be real. Am I going crazy?
A cloud shifted over the sun, contributing to the shade of the trees. The change of light caught her attention, and her gaze flew back up to the masked behemoth.
Her pounding heart skipped a beat.
Not a cloud. Not an illusion. Its feet were only a few steps away. Its head blotted out the sun.
And it was staring down at her.
The word that sprang into her mind was almost foreign.
Run.
But she couldn't. Her body was rooted in place: her knees refused to move. Whether it was pride, fear, or a mix, she didn't know; it never entered her thoughts. There was only her mind screaming at her – screaming that word over and over – and her frozen knees, and her trembling irises, and that hellish face looking down at her, into her, with its beady yellow eyes.
'Well hello.'
A voice – cold, sharp, malicious. A voice she didn't recognize; a voice inside her head. That thing's voice. It was talking to her.
Her knees ground against her frozen legs, forcing a shaky step backward. Move, goddamn it! MOVE!
The monstrosity looked as if it was about to turn, bend down, and snatch her up in its jaws – but, at the last moment, something else caught its attention. As it looked back to the park pathway, a black-cloaked figure dashed across the bottom edge of Tatsuki's view, drawing her eyes back to the ground. The figure leapt towards the creature's cloaked shin, flying with a massive sword held over his shoulder. The blade reminded her of a giant metal fang; still, it barely made a dent in the creature's ankle as the stranger slashed into pearly flesh.
Wait. Not a stranger. She recognized that orange hair; she recognized him. But it couldn't be...
"Ichigo?" murmured Tatsuki, staring in disbelief. Her mouth dropped ajar as the behemoth took a step forward, flinging its attacker off its ankle and down the pathway, out of view through the trees. As the white boots took another tremor-inducing step, Tatsuki finally grabbed control of her body, and dashed through the trees parallel to the thing, struggling to get a view of what had to be Ichigo.
"That was the dumbest charge I've ever seen. What were you thinking, did you actually think that would work?" came a distant voice, sounding more than a bit irritated. Through the passing trees, Tatsuki caught sight of a kneeling Ichigo – and another figure standing just behind him. She slid to a stop, squinting to get a better view of him. Black hair, center parted; glasses; a blue tie against a Karakura uniform... That was the guy Orihime had mentioned. Uchuu. No, that wasn't it. Ukyou?
He placed his hand on the dull edge of Ichigo's sword, opposite the forte (what the hell was Ichigo doing with a giant sword?), and suddenly, an arc of neon blue light – longer than his own height – materialized from his wrist.
Oh, that's right. It's that guy with the laser wristwatch!
"What did you do, Uryu?" came Ichigo's startled voice. "How'd your bow get that big?"
"Never mind that! Just listen! I think there's a way we..."
What the hell were they doing? Discussing a strategy? They were just standing there! Tatsuki wanted to scream at them, to tell them they were morons and to look at what was coming – but the rumble of the behemoth's footfall cut her off. Uryu and Ichigo spun toward the thing, squinting up at the mask at the top of the pillar of shadow. Just next to its teeth, an ominous crimson light sparked into existence, quickly growing into an orb of spinning, crackling energy.
"You've got to run, both of you! If you're hit by that, there won't be an atom left!" came a distant shout – female, from the direction of the group of weirdos. Familiar.
Rukia?
Tatsuki glanced towards the sound, but could see nothing through the trees. Her attention didn't stay there for long: Ichigo, growling like a maniac, was running straight towards the feet of the Pinocchio freak.
"What are you doing?" shouted Uryu. "We need to–"
The mask's jaws snapped open, and the blast cut him off. A torrent of crimson energy shot down towards the ground, crashing down upon Ichigo and bathing the entire area in the hue of blood. Roaring gales erupted from the point of impact, bending the nearby trees, nearly knocking Tatsuki off her feet.
"Ichigo!" she screamed, grabbing onto a nearby trunk with one hand, struggling to keep her eyes open against the stinging wind. The place where Ichigo had been was surrounded by streaming tendrils of red light, but an arc of metal – Wait, that was him! He was still alive under his sword, under that thing!
'A Cero, huh? I wonder how long he'll live.'
Tatsuki's eyes widened. That voice again, echoing along with her fears, her panic. He couldn't keep that up. It was only a matter of time. She couldn't save him. He was going to die right in front of her, and there was nothing–
The shimmering light seemed to shudder – and then suddenly, red was blue, and down was up, and the blast of energy was sailing skyward, traveling up the shadowy tower like a glowing length of barbed wire, ripping into the creature's body. It took a stumbling step backwards, and a purple mist whiffed into the air from between its jaws. Its feet shuffled backwards along the pathway, taking step after step, heels scraping against the stone – until finally, it reached the black gate from whence it came. Its spiked fingers dug into the portal's edge, pulling the sky over its form like a winter blanket. In only a few moments, both it and the gate completely vanished from sight.
And all the while, Ichigo stood there with his sword on his shoulder, staring up at the retreating giant with a cocky grin.
Tatsuki could only stare on in amazement from the trees. Amazed, on one hand, by whatever the hell Ichigo had just done to beat that thing – and, on the other, that he was a suicidal dumbass that had run at a towering monster like David with a slingshot. Not to mention the weird outfit that made him look like some kind of Gothic samurai. She was starting to get a migraine from all this supernatural crap.
And she still had no idea where Orihime was, or even if she was safe! Time to step out there, grab Ichigo by the collar, and threaten to rearrange his face if he...
Wait a minute.
She felt a strange sensation – like someone was watching her, someone far away. The person felt... familiar. It felt like Orihime. But how the hell could she know that?
Careful not to let anyone catch sight of her, Tatsuki peered out from the trees, following the sensation with her eyes. She didn't see Orihime anywhere. Not in the park... No, further. A little bit up. It was telling her that Orihime was in a tree? This was stupid! She had to be losing it– Wait! There was a... Up there!
A good distance away, on an elevated bridge above a road and overlooking the park, she could barely make out a girl that had to be Orihime. Orange hair, looked like a school uniform... That was her. And she was standing with someone, facing him – a tall, hulking guy in a brightly-colored shirt. She thought she recognized him too, but she couldn't make him out that well. Note to self: bring binoculars the next time the freaking aliens attack.
Just at that moment, the neon archer – Uryu, that was it – ran into her view, prompting her to duck behind the tree trunk. She stayed there for a few moments, pressing her back against the tree, unsure of whether she had been seen. Then, cautiously, she peeked out around the trunk – and found Uryu standing on top of a fallen Ichigo, shooting blue arrows into the sky, caught in the middle of some soliloquy that she couldn't quite make out. Thankfully, she hadn't been noticed – because her face was locked into the strangest, most dumbfounded expression anyone had ever seen.
And then Rukia walked into her view, looking down at Ichigo with concern.
Tatsuki's eyes narrowed.
That settled it. Whatever the hell was going on, Rukia had a hand in it – and, by the looks of things, so did Ichigo.
But Tatsuki wasn't about to stick around here and confront them. There'd be time for that later, when they were alone – when Ichigo was alone. As a shouting match erupted between the three, Tatsuki delved deeper into the trees, careful not to let anyone catch sight of her as she slipped away.
That Pinocchio freak had almost vaporized Ichigo.
Too bad for him. Getting pummeled to death would definitely be more painful.
Okay, so let's review.
Okay, I know this sounds crazy... But, earlier today... I think some kind of monster attacked us. Yeah, a monster. Chizuru was holding your arm up and... Oh, that's because she was infected. See, there was this green ooze stuff that the thing shot out with pellets, and it was some kind of mind control... No, this wasn't on Sy-Fy. Listen. We were surrounded – Oh. It wasn't just Chizuru, there were a bunch of them. And I was knocking them out, but Chizuru grabbed me – No not that way! Actually... Damn it, just let me finish. Chizuru was holding my shoulder, and I got shot, and... I think I blacked out after that. But when I woke up, everyone was knocked out, and Chizuru didn't remember any of it. She said something about some guys and a flash bomb. So I went looking for you because I was worried, and I thought you went to the park, and there was this giant black thing with a Pinocchio mask, and a little girl was shooting a rocket launcher, and then I saw Ichigo dressed like a samurai, and...
Tatsuki hung her head. This was hopeless. Even Orihime would think she'd lost it.
She was sitting on her bed, legs crossed, staring at the phone that sat upon the nightstand against the wall. Once she'd gotten home, she'd changed into more casual clothes: khakis and a white sleeveless shirt under an unbuttoned, powder blue blouse. Her school uniform lay sprawled out, wrinkled, on the bed next to her, untouched from where she had thrown it a half hour before.
She knew that Orihime was all right; in fact, she even knew exactly where Orihime was. On her way home, the psychic power (whatever the hell it was – that made the most sense) hadn't let up for a single moment; if anything, it had gotten stronger. Now she could tell the direction and the distance from miles away: she could actually feel Orihime make her way back to her apartment. It was a relief, and, at the same time, a little unnerving. Even though she knew Orihime wasn't actually watching her, it was a little weird having that feeling all the time – like while she was undressing, for instance.
Despite all that, though, she still wanted to call her: to assure herself that Orihime really was okay, and to make sure that she hadn't gone crazy.
Tatsuki tapped the side of her foot against the wrinkled sheets, staring at the gray buttons of the white wireless receiver. Where to begin – that was the problem. She had no idea how much of this Orihime knew, or if she still knew anything at all. In all likelihood (and Tatsuki was speculating here), her memories had probably been wiped out as well – after she had led that invisible monster away from the school, once Ichigo or one of his 'pals' had killed the thing and saved her. But her being on that bridge couldn't have just been a coincidence...
Tatsuki took in a deep breath, exhaled, and reached over to the phone. She knew the number by heart. Just take it slow. Ask her what she remembers, and then we can go down the rabbit hole.
A soft ringing: once, twice, and then the click of pickup.
"Tatsuki!" came Orihime's chirp.
Caller ID: the next best thing to being psychic. "Hey, Orihime."
"Hi. What's up?"
"Uh..." Great time to go blank. "Listen, I–"
"Oh, yeah! You have to hear this!" said Orihime, causing Tatsuki to blink behind the receiver. "Something incredible happened while I was waiting for you!"
"Incredible?"
"Yeah! See, I was standing by where we come in for school – and there's a gate there, right? Well, I was leaning against the wall like this... and Chizuru was over here... and the street was that way, so only I could see it..."
Tatsuki realized that Orihime was walking around the room: pausing, pointing, and acting out the environment.
From behind the receiver.
"And all of a sudden," said Orihime, "there was this big black van with tinted windows, and it drove past the school going so slow. It looked really suspicious." Orihime paused – and then chirped: "So I followed it!"
"What?" shouted Tatsuki, glancing over to her ear – to the phone – in disbelief. "Why the hell would you do that? What if it was some weirdo that kidnaps people?"
Orihime laughed. "Oh, no, it couldn't have been that. It had a satellite dish on top."
"So... Wait, why does that make a difference?"
A confused pause. "Because the government sends down tracking waves to watch where everyone's going. They'd catch him."
Tatsuki slapped her forehead with her free hand. "Keep going."
"Okay, so after I chased it for a few blocks, it stopped outside a house. I think it was the one of that girl that just moved away – you know, the one in our class?"
"Yumi?"
"Yeah! And a bunch of guys in black suits and sunglasses got out. They were walking around with cameras, and snapping photos of stuff." Orihime's voice dropped to a whisper. "I think it was a probe from the Alien Abduction Investigation Committee."
Tatsuki was very familiar with the AAIC. Orihime was their president.
"And right after that, the phone in the booth I was hiding behind rang! So I walked in and picked it up, and this guy with a really deep voice answered. He said, 'Forget everything you saw. You should go home.'" Her voice was stern, but nowhere deep enough to imitate a male. "So, after he hung up... I thought about it, and decided that that was probably best." She sighed. "I wish I was qualified for that kind of stuff..."
Tatsuki had to ask. "Well, what happened to the van?"
"Huh?" said Orihime. Then, cheerfully: "It left."
Of course.
"So I'm sorry that I kinda... ditched you there." Orihime laughed nervously. "You can forgive me, right?"
Tatsuki blinked. "Oh! Yeah, of course."
After all that, Tatsuki had almost forgotten her reason for calling – but now, it was back in the forefront of her mind. Orihime's story was odd, far-fetched and eccentric – and completely normal for her. Tatsuki hated to admit it, but it seemed like her memories had been replaced as well.
"I'm glad," said Orihime, sounding sentimental. "I was a little worried."
And then there was that, which didn't sound normal at all.
"Orihime..." said Tatsuki, quiet with concern. "Did anything else happen today?"
"Happen?"
"At school, I mean."
"... Like what?"
Weird. She hesitated. "Well... I'm not really sure," said Tatsuki, choosing her words carefully. She leaned back against pistachio-green: the color of her bedroom wall. "I think something weird went on after you left."
"Huh? Weird how?"
"Like... You know those guys that broke out the windows near the gym, right? I think they showed up again."
"You don't remember?"
What the hell? "How'd you know that?" asked Tatsuki, leaning forward.
"Oh, uh! Just a guess," came Orihime's rushed response, followed by another nervous chuckle. "'Cause you always forget stuff. Like lunch. Remember how many times we had to share?"
Oh God, Tatsuki wished she could erase those memories. Orihime's lunches came along with a lifetime aftertaste. "I don't think I'll ever forget that," she said, shoving some geniality into her voice.
"See, of course not." She gave a short, intentional cough, as if preparing to quote. "'I'm an expert on unique, exotic dishes. My culinary skills are unmatched!'" And then a giggle.
"Michuru said that, huh?"
"How'd you know?" asked Orihime, blinking curiously, probably.
"Oh, just a guess." Michuru had a habit on putting a good spin on things that dropped like a rock – into your stomach.
"... Secret international food spy..." came Orihime's whisper. Then suddenly: "My recipes! I can't afford a safe!" A pause. "Oh. What were we talking about?"
Spacing out again, huh? "Oh, yeah. I just wanted to make sure you didn't run into those guys, or anything. I think they ran off the same way you walk home."
"Nope, didn't run into anybody," said Orihime – cheerful, and awfully quick.
Tatsuki stared into space for a moment, furrowing her brow. "All right. Listen, I've gotta help get dinner ready, so I'll talk to you later, 'kay?"
"Mm hmm. Seeya, Tatsuki!"
The click of a returned receiver, and the droning buzz of an unconnected line. Tatsuki listened to it for a few seconds before setting the receiver down on its stand.
More than once, that conversation had turned awkward – and yet, she had barely mentioned anything about all the insanity that had gone on today. If anything, she had played along as if she were completely oblivious.
And, despite all of that, Orihime had stumbled over herself at just about every opportunity.
But Orihime was her best friend. She couldn't know. She wouldn't keep something like this from her.
Would she?
Tatsuki placed a hand over her closed fist, setting them in her lap. She stared at them hard, thinking, running over the words. By the time her mother actually called her to help with dinner, several minutes had passed.
She took a glimpse into the mirror on her desk. Then, she stood, opened the door, and headed downstairs.
The next morning, Tatsuki awoke to the beeping of her alarm clock – and a pounding headache.
Not surprising, considering all the crap she'd been through recently. Holding a palm against her forehead, she dragged herself out of bed, muttering as she opened the bedroom door and shuffled down the hall towards the bathroom. She stepped inside, locked the bathroom door behind her, rubbed her eyes sleepily, and began undressing to take a shower. Nightshirt, shorts, panties, socks–
Her heart froze, and her body went along with it, petrified upon a single foot. Her eyes darted around the room in panic – but, after a moment, she caught her breath.
Damn was that 'being watched' feeling weird! It almost seemed like Orihime was right there in the room with her, even though she knew that she was blocks away.
Tatsuki covered herself subconsciously, a faint blush rising to her cheeks as she stepped into the shower. Her hand reached for the curtain, pulling it into place, and then for the shower knob. A spray of warm water shot from the overhead faucet, soaking her spiky, messy black hair. She closed her eyes, tilting her chin upwards, letting the falling drops patter against her forehead. Gradually, she let her body relax, giving into the soothing heat.
This time, I'll protect you!
Tatsuki's eyes shot open – and immediately, she was blinded by water, forcing them to slam shut. She spun away from the faucet, stepping back, covering her face with a grasping hand. Standing hunched over in the small alcove, she opened her eyes slowly, staring into the mosaic floor past her fingers.
I remember.
But she didn't want to remember. She didn't want to hear those words. She didn't want to see those tears again. She didn't want to be the cause. She didn't want to be the one that–
The feeling of her foot crashing into Orihime's stomach.
The side of her fist slammed against the shower tiles – hard enough to shake the wall. She gritted her teeth, trembling, shaking, tensed under the water droplets that poured down her back.
"Damn it!"
Two more strikes would echo through the house before her mother knocked at the door. Tatsuki said she was all right; she managed to get out the words. Ten minutes later, she walked out of the bathroom in a towel, heading towards her bedroom with fresh droplets trailing down her cheeks.
But they weren't tears.
She told herself that.
She caught up with Ichigo first thing that morning.
He was striding down the hall with his usual apathetic gait, heading towards class, acting as if nothing remotely interesting had happened in the last year, much less just yesterday. In fact, no-one at the school seemed to be aware of the danger they had been in hours ago: there were no mentions of weird sightings, no gossip about monster attacks, no strange rumors at all – not that she heard, anyway. Whether it was that their memories had been altered, or that they simply couldn't see any of the stuff, she didn't know. She remembered Orihime saying that she could see the first monster, the invisible one, so maybe most people couldn't see them at all. That was what Tatsuki had come up with, anyway.
Maybe she could get Ichigo to clarify.
"Ichigo!" she called.
Ichigo stopped momentarily, peering over his shoulder, giving Tatsuki a bit of an odd look as she ran up to his side. "Huh? What's up?"
What was that about? He was acting like they barely knew each other. She didn't think they had drifted apart that much in the last year.
Then again, she hadn't thought that his hobbies included fighting freaky creatures from outer space, so the track record wasn't exactly stellar.
"What, I can't say hi?" she asked, giving him a lopsided grin – and a not-so-light punch in the shoulder. As they began to stroll down the hall, she tilted her chin upwards with a smirk, adding: "Or maybe you're afraid of being seen with the only girl in school that can kick your ass."
"Like that's gonna happen," said Ichigo, looking her way with what, for Ichigo, qualified as a smile. "You forgetting that I beat you in our last match?"
"Four years ago. Like that counts for anything." Tatsuki peered up at him from the corner of her eye, smiling. "And I didn't forget. You owe me another round."
"Is that what this is about?" He sounded annoyed. God damn, if there weren't people around, she'd put his whole body in a sling.
"Not really. I wanted to ask you about something."
"Shoot."
"I heard there was a nasty fight in town yesterday. You know anything about it?"
"A fight?" asked Ichigo, a mix between skeptical and curious.
"Yeah. Somewhere in the park." She turned her head, looking straight at Ichigo's face. "I was wondering if you know anybody involved."
There was a slight hitch in Ichigo's stride, but it quickly disappeared with the next step. His eyes slid over to Tatsuki, and then looked forward to the hall. "Can't say I do. This is the first I'm hearing of it."
You're a terrible liar, Ichigo. It'd be better if you didn't do it to your friends.
"Oh, I see..." said Tatsuki, trying not to let her disappointment sink into her voice. "Well, I just thought I'd ask, since you're kinda a directory for that sort of stuff, you know?" Like the Orange Pages.
"Can't say I asked for that, either," said Ichigo, shoving his hands into his pockets, slouching a bit. He stopped outside a classroom door that she was sure wasn't his homeroom. "This is me. I'll talk to ya later, all right?"
So you're trying to ditch me, huh? All right.
"Sure," said Tatsuki, feigning a turn away – and then stopping short. "Oh, hey, one more thing."
As he took a step into the classroom, Ichigo looked back at her, an 'Eh?' expression upon his face – and just after he did, Tatsuki's knuckles slammed into his cheek, sending him rolling into the classroom. He landed against the side of the unmanned lectern, looking up at her with a dumbfounded expression. Her fist was still in the air, as if to cool off from the fiery glare blazing in her eyes.
"What the hell? What was that for?" he shouted, in the standard Ichigo-flip-out manner.
"Payback for the kiss on the cheek!" she yelled back, and stamped back down the hall, towards her homeroom, before he could utter a word. More than a few curious eyes followed her with bewildered looks, but she didn't give a damn. Everyone already knew about that stunt, anyway. Gossip traveled like greased lightning at Karakura High.
But, when she was finally in her homeroom, sitting at her desk, noticing the quick looks and giggles from a group of female classmates that were obviously talking about her, a thought entered Tatsuki's mind.
Was I supposed to remember that?
She didn't know. Which memories were real, and which were just supposed to be real? Which ones did the people around her have? The ones that were real to them were fake to her, and the ones that were real to her didn't exist for them, and the ones that were real to them had to be real but not real for her to seem sane, and this whole fucking thing was giving her a giant headache.
She set her elbows on her desk, holding her forehead with her right palm, staring up at the blackboard as the teacher entered and class began.
Everybody's Pinocchio.