I wanted to stop writing this story, but I decided to keep going. I know it's been awhile. I admit that you stumped me for a little while LittleKittyShaoMao, but I came to the conclusion that I'm just going to go ahead with the story even though I overlooked that little piece of info. Thanks so much for telling me though, and I'm glad you like the story. Sun, your review also spurred me forward. I wrote this with you two in mind. And thank you to my other reviewers, your words gave me the push I needed to complete this chapter. Thanks! :-)

Another thing that I'd like to say- The Sei Ya in this chapter is of my own creation, and a lot of things here are only what I pictured to be in relation to the Quincy race. Don't steal them.

-ST15

Chapter 4: Quintessence

As soon as Shiori had unlocked her apartment door and thrown her school things onto the coffee table, she stalked off to the bathroom and twisted the knob to turn on the bath.

It was one of the places where Shiori felt at peace, temporarily relieved of the stress and responsibilities that came with living alone. Speaking of which, she needed to go grocery shopping soon.

She had an hour until she had to go to work. Shiori thought that some relaxation was in order.

She lowered her head, unzipping her uniform skirt. Maybe she had made the right choice by transferring. The students seemed pretty nice, friendly and welcoming. And there was a sewing class she could attend, this would definitely make her days at Karakura more enjoyable…more bearable.

Pausing to blow a stray lock of hair from her face, Shiori stared into the mirror. She gave up trying to unbutton her shirt and glared deep into the azure eyes of her reflection.

She was suddenly disgusted with herself. What was she thinking? A sewing class? Was that her real priority at the moment?

Being with all those other students, talking with them, going to the same classes. It almost made her feel like one of them.

Shiori attacked the troublesome buttons once more. As much as she wanted to pretend that she was just a schoolgirl, living a normal life and having friends, she knew that she was only kidding herself.

Shiori was anything but normal. There was somewhere she was supposed to be, she could sense it. Somewhere where she would truly feel at home. But for now, that place was just a fantasy.

Her parents were gone, along with the rest of her family. She was stuck living in the human realm, at least for now. It was hard not to feel a sort of…resentment towards her parents for leaving her here to fend for herself, not leaving any clues as to what she was supposed to do.

What was her purpose? She knew deep down that it was ridiculous to be upset at her parents, it wasn't their fault that they were brutally killed for no reason.

Shiori's hands shook as she removed the rest of her uniform and turned off the bath.

She just didn't know anymore. Her mind was in chaos, a whirl of colors and sound. She couldn't even know for sure whether to blame the shinigami for her parents' deaths. After all, it was a shinigami who saved her.

Maybe he had a guilty conscience. But no, the gentleness and emotion in his voice was genuine. Shiori couldn't remember so much his looks, it was the kindness that stood out. A warm, heavenly voice that erased her fears and consoled her. Offered her a safe haven from the hell that life had become.

But when Shiori really got down to it, who could she trust?

Steam spiraled off the glassy surface, ripples marring the perfect water as she slid into the tub. And yet……

It was the Quincy race who had disrupted the balance of the universe to begin with, Shiori found this out on her own. She'd heard the Elders dispute about it when she was younger, and they didn't realize it then. But she didn't fully understand what had been said until she thought back on it when she was much older.

Shiori tilted her head backwards, wet hair dripping on the edge of the tub. She closed her eyes, lost in the memories.

Her ear was pressed upon the sleek wooden door of the meeting house located in the Sei Ya, the Field of Stars. The dewy grass swayed in the night breeze, and Shiori could hear the chirping of unseen crickets.

The shinigami had ordered them to lower their bows, to stop killing the Hollows, for the consequences would be severe.

At first, the Elders thought that the shinigami were threatening them, giving them an ultimatum. This, Shiori reflected, was when one of the younger council members stood up to speak.

Her father.

"If I may…" He inclined his head at the figure sitting at the head of the table, who nodded wearily. "These are my views. I don't believe that they wish to begin a war, nor do they mean to threaten us."

"What utter nonsense is this, man?" Another member seated opposite him looked incredulous. "Of course they want us to stop, they've been seeking our demise ever since we began to channel our reitsu through our bows. They resent that we've come up with this more complete, I daresay more satisfying way to eradicate these…" he made a contemptuous noise. "Hollows."

"Please, hear me out." Shiori's father had patiently listened to the man, but now he needed to make his opinions heard. "They must have a reason for telling us to stop, and I think we should obey. At least, for the time being, until we find out what their true motives are."

It was considered. Shiori's father was loyal and trustworthy, many respected him and his opinion wasn't disregarded. Much time was spent deciding what their reaction should be, whether or not it was dangerous to ignore the message completely.

A vote. A decision. Shiori's father arrived home that night tired and defeated, not answering Shiori's persistent questions. Only one question he answered, and even then it had taken her a long time to perceive its meaning.

She was but a child, after all.

The bloody war, and then the orphanage. Shiori couldn't stop puzzling over the last words her father spoke that moonless night. But when she finally put the pieces together so many years later, she realized what her father had meant to tell her.

"Don't seek to blame others, Shiori. Chances are, they have their own reasons and only want to secure the well-being of the ones they protect."

More droplets of water fell onto the clear surface of the warm bath. But this time, the drops were salty and bitter.

-OOO-

Shiori left her apartment with a feeling of unease. She didn't know why she suddenly felt so cold.

It was a warm afternoon. A soft breeze blew through the tree limbs, making them whisper secrets as Shiori walked by in a daze. Her eyes stung a little, still sensitive to the air because she had cried so much. The last time she'd reminisced so of the life she lived before the orphanage was too far away to recall. Maybe that new school was unlocking her emotions.

Shiori stopped walking, pressing her fingers into the strap of her bag until her knuckles turned white. She could not allow that to happen. Emotions were a sign of weakness. Sentimental fools who wore their hearts on their sleeves…they had no path to walk upon. They are always taken advantage of.

It was something she'd learned a long time ago.

Shiori quickened her pace. Whenever she really needed someone to talk to, there was never anyone to listen. All of the things she felt day after day were always kept bottled up inside. Shiori knew that one day, something might happen to shake the bottled up emotions deep within her. And when that day came, who knew when the cap she usually kept tightly shut might burst open. And the bottle would fizz over.

Shiori didn't know what she would do then. So she just kept hoping that maybe she would be able to find some sort of escape. A haven. Her mind told her over and over again what she refused to believe.

You aren't going to accomplish anything by staying in the human world, are you? If you want to find some answers, then search. But just not here. There is nothing for you here.

Shiori always shoved those thoughts into the furthest depths of her mind before they could take root and grow, branching out before she could stop them. There was something about this town. She had a gut feeling that if she stayed long enough, then she would find what she was looking for.

There is nothing for you here…

Shiori squeezed her eyes shut, pressing forward. She was almost to the shop. It would do no good to start over-thinking. She already had somewhat of a life here. Now if she could just hang on a little while longer, just a little longer.

Nothing.

-OOO-

The door jingled as Shiori let herself in, the miniature chimes that hung in an arch by the door tinkled out an angelic welcome as they always did. Sunflower Seams was a cheery little place.

Of course, the shop was based off of the owner's personality.

The goods, such as spools of thread in a fabulous array of colors, bobbins, needles, even whole sewing machines were all displayed in a casual yet artistic manner. There were packets of ready-threaded needles arranged in a big flower shape on a little round table that had a vibrant knitted tablecloth draped over it. The sewing machines all had hand-sewn covers slipped over them, with different scenes depicted on each one. Those were sold separately, of course.

The scenes were gorgeous settings such as a crescent moon hovering over a silent pond at night, autumn leaves dusting the rich earth, an ocean sunset, a silvery wolf howling. The pictures looked so real, so alive, that Shiori always felt that she could just reach out and be there. There with the waves of the sea lapping at her feet, there touching the wolf's shining fur and listening to his mournful howl…

"Hey, Shii-chan! You could have told me you were here already!" A clear voice that Shiori knew very well by now shook her out of her reverie. Shiori hastily removed her hand from the sewn wolf. The wolf was silent once again. The magic was gone.

"Oh, you were looking at the wolf, huh? That one's actually my favorite." The tinkling laugh came from right behind Shiori now. The laugh that sounded much like the mini chimes that the owner had handmade. It was the owner herself who was speaking now, and Shiori whirled around to greet her.

"Ito-san. I haven't seen you in days. It feels like longer."

Shiori always felt on her guard around Ito, her boss. Ito was so artistic, so creative. If you weren't careful, she'd suck you into her world and then no time would pass. All time would pass. Ito was the cause of many late nights for Shiori. But Shiori couldn't help it. Ito was like a breath of fresh air. You just needed her around, because when she was by your side, life held so much more meaning.

"Shii-chan, I told you to call me Ito. We're familiar enough that we need not bother with titles. Piff. They're useless things anyway. Just waste time and words."

Shiori raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Words?"

"You know, one has only so many words that they have to say in their lifetime." Ito left it at that.

Shiori also felt that a lot of the time, she had no idea what the heck Ito was on about. But she played along. Or else she would lose her job. And that would be bad.

"I always thought that the wolf looked kind of desolate. Maybe grief-stricken. I guess that's the emotion I had in mind when I sewed it." Ito stared at the wolf a moment, lost. "His howl is mournful. I think that only those people who have really known pain in their lifetimes could hear it. Only those people who have suffered could hear that howl, don't you think?"

Shiori looked deep into Ito's catlike green eyes, narrowing her own. It seemed at times that Ito knew exactly what Shiori was thinking. It was almost scary. And that sent Shiori's invisible shields rising up before her in protection, hiding her secrets from view.

Ito was standing behind the counter, watching Shiori with that grin of hers that looked mischievous and conniving no matter what Ito was thinking at the moment. Shiori felt a surge of affection for her quirky boss. It was Ito who'd always kept Shiori from falling apart on the verge of collapse.

"All right, what should I do first?" Shiori tugged on her deep blue Sunflower Seams hoodie. Ito believed that aprons were tacky and cliché. So every time a new worker joined the shop's little group of employees, Ito ordered a hoodie for them in the color of their choice, free of charge. It just further proved Ito's independence, individuality, and strong defiance against the norm.

Ito pushed up the sleeves of her own lime green hoodie, silver bangles clinking into one another. "We've just gotten a new shipment in. Would you please get the boxes from the back and lay out the goods? We're re-opening in five minutes."

"Sure." Shiori started making her way to the back, expertly maneuvering her way through the maze of vivid merchandise all laid out on different shaped tables and carved shelves. Shiori pulled back the strands of heavy beads that hung down the doorway leading to the storage room, and slipped through, leaving the multihued beads to clash together again with a satisfying clinking.

"Let's see…" Shiori surveyed the mountains of boxes of all shaped and sizes. no doubt filled with the many odds and ends Ito constantly sent in for. "I think it was the fine new thread from Kojima Inc." She searched until she found the pile of four boxes stamped with Kojima's logo of 'Kojima' with a single needle running thread through the letters. Fitting her fingers under the first box, Shiori lifted it and began carrying it towards the front room again. It wasn't too heavy.

Ito held the beads back for her as she walked through. Shiori happened to glance downwards as she hefted the box onto the counter by the cash register. "Uh…Ito? What are you wearing on your feet?"

Ito, confused, glanced down. "What do you mean?" She was wearing cute fringed moccasins today, soft-soled and beaded with tiny beads.

"I meant your socks." Shiori gestured towards them, trying not to laugh.

Ito looked down again, this time at the socks. One was black and looked innocent enough, but the other was bright purple. Ito shrugged. "I couldn't find matching ones this morning." She shot that grin at Shiori.

Shiori sighed. "You don't care?"

"Nope. I think it looks unique." For a twenty-eight year old, Ito sure acted like a headstrong teenager of fifteen. Shiori kind of liked it. And with Ito's dark jeans with spiral patterns that she'd sewn on herself, her auburn side-braid and her bright personality, it only added to the picture.

Just then, Ito glanced down at her watch. "Oh, it's time to open again. Shii-chan, flip on that sign at the front before getting those other boxes, okay? Ami and Jiroh should be by any minute to help you. I need to write down a few things."

"No problem." Shiori listened to Ito's footsteps fade away before striding to the front window and flicking on the 'OPEN' sign.

At that moment, the door flew open, bringing in the breeze. "Hi! Am I late?" A voice sang.

Shiori walked back to the storage room as Ito poked her head out from her office next to it. "Ami, grab your hoodie and get over here. I have papers I need you to file. Shipping orders and all that."

Ami pouted. "No 'hello'? No 'how are you'? I'm hurt, Ito." She shuffled her black knee-high motorcycle boots with mock gloominess.

"Yes, well, you've got to step up the pace. We can't have Shii-chan picking up your slack all the time." Ito beckoned to Ami. "Hurry, before Jiroh gets here and you start arguing again."

Ami adjusted her white-blond high pigtails. "It isn't my fault we rub each other the wrong way. He's just a brat all the time." She grabbed her black hoodie and slipped it over her red and black ripped top. It half-covered her gauzy black miniskirt.

Shiori could never understand how such a bubbly blonde could ever have such gothic style. People probably prejudged her all the time, looking only at her clothing. But the truth was, Shiori thought she'd never met anyone so happy and optimistic. Except where Jiroh was concerned, that was.

Ami was eighteen. She was apparently very smart, and was accepted into college a bit early. But Ami had a large family, so she wanted to help pay for college herself, which was why she worked at Sunflower Seams. Shiori had heard all about it from Ito, who sometimes could not seem to keep any secrets for the life of her.

Jiroh was seventeen, and didn't give any reasons for working at the sewing shop. Ito didn't feel the need to ask, she never pressed anyone for personal details unless the person gave them willingly themselves. Which proved fortunate for Shiori.

All that Shiori knew was that he and Ami fought like cats and dogs, making her wonder whether they'd known each other before they came to work at the shop.

When Shiori had finished carrying the boxes, she began setting the merchandise into their proper places. Ami was now taking care of a few customers. The sky is getting dark. She noted as she finished the first box. Night would fall soon.

And it did. As Shiori laid out the last spools of thread in the box on display at the front window, she noticed the stars. They glittered and winked at her from their positions in the night sky. She spotted a glowing crescent moon. It looked so wistful.

With a slow exhale, Shiori made her way into Ito's office and told her she was finished for the night. Ami looked up from a stack of papers, asking if she should stay a little longer.

"No, you two can go on home. I can lock up for the night after I finish here." Ito waggled her fingers. "Now get."

"I wonder why Jiroh never came today," Ami took off her hoodie and folded it. "Not that I care."

Ito rested her chin in her hand. "I'm sure he had a good reason. I'll see you two on Thursday."

"See ya!" Ami skipped out the door, the bells jingling in her wake. Shiori followed soon after. Before she left, she heard Ito singing under her breath. It was sounded like a lullaby, but the words seemed too melancholy somehow.

"I wake at dawn, see another sunrise…I feel not alone but my heart tells me otherwise…"

Shiori shivered. Ito was something else. The way she sometimes read other's feelings…

Shiori grabbed her bag and left, seeing the street deserted before her and the wind starting up again. She began to walk quickly toward home.

Shadows were dancing upon the walls of the alleyways. The streetlights glowed with a soft light. Shiori was instantly reminded of that night. The night she'd been found after that terrifying battle. And that made her scared.

Shiori only heard her own beating heart and her short intakes of breath as she kept hurrying forward towards her apartment building. She only had a few blocks to go.

Just then, she froze. She felt a sudden pressure about her limbs. It was subtle and mysterious, yet she still felt calm. Why? It wasn't a Hollow, she was sure of that.

Then…what…?

Shiori quickly turned her head upward, towards the black velvet sky that was studded with stars. A sudden flash of light caught her attention, burning a glowing trail in its wake. It streaked across the sky, too low to be a shooting star. And as she watched, it flew until it disintegrated into tiny particles of light.

Shiori was trembling. She gripped her arm with her other hand as she willed herself to stop shaking. If that was what she thought it was…

A movement atop a building a few houses before her made her glance that way. It was a slight silhouette of a person, too shadowed to see the face. The figure's clothing rippled in an unseen breeze as the silence reigned once more. And as Shiori strained to see the face, another flash caught her attention from its direction. And before she could react, the shadowy figure disappeared.

Shiori was left alone in the middle of the street, bathed by the glow of the crescent moon.

~Until next time. ;-)