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The following references have been used in the making of this fiction and are subject to modification as necessary at any time as deemed by the author and/or administration of this site. These references may or may not be copyrighted. Credit is given both to the creators and publishers of these references: Mahou Sensei Negima; Izuna: Legend of the Unemployed Ninja; Onegai Sensei; Winter Sonata; Love Hina; The .hack// Universe
"It looks like it's really getting to be autumn..."
Orihime's eyes rolled upwards. The blinding afternoon sun did nothing of the positive sort for her migraine. Even her coffee lacked bite today. She couldn't even think of a harsh mental retort in response to Yuta's painfully cheerful optimism, which was strange because normally she jumped at opportunities to take down varied insults in her mind. If only she still had her bottle of pain pills. She could down the whole thing and die a slow painless death.
How had she been talked into this? She didn't even like Yuta, who was idly sipping his tea. Tempting as the smell was, she had her Triple Cappuccino, trademark of her new style. As empty as the cup were, she could still lick at the few drops of remaining foam and bean juice, savoring bitterly the remaining flavor and inhaling the sweet aroma that floated from the stained white walls. She did not resist the firm hand that eased her head down into a soft, denim-coated lap. Her eyes swung away from Yuta's glowing face. The boy merely sighed and closed his eyes.
She had to admit, Yuta's lap made for a good cushion, and it really was getting to be autumn after all. The remnants of her old shell were still crusting off, and it was nice to bathe in such surreal thoughts every once in a while.
"I can smell your perfume..."
Orihime felt herself blush. It took some effort to avoid a heartbroken sigh, and even more willpower to avoid making obvious the fact that he had put her in an embarrassing situation. It was her uncomfortable grunt that gave her away nonetheless, and as he reached down to stroke her forehead she slapped his hand away.
"S-sorry..."
"No, it's just... boundaries..."
Why did he laugh? It almost reminded her of somebody she knew... Yuta chuckled and leaned back. "Well you're already lying in my lap," he mumbled, "so I didn't think it would be so bad if I just stroked your head."
It was too much of a coincidence. Orihime sat up in anger, audibly huffing to vent out frustration. In a moment of déjà vu she growled, "I'm not a dog! Uh—" This time, she did nothing to resist Yuta's forward advance.
"I like cute things though, and I think dogs are cute."
"I-is..." she murmured, "Is that the only reason you like me...?" It occurred to her that it could be Sado in a mask. Wait, why was she thinking of Sado? Why was she even here?! There were three things that didn't fit. One: She was on a date at all. Two: It was a date with Yuta. Three: She was thinking about Sado. No, she wanted to think about Sado...
Impossible... She cared for him? It sounded absolutely absurd, but right now her pulse was racing. After all, it had been almost five days since she'd last seen Sado. His apartment was empty, and he was never at his band practices anymore (she had gone to the trouble of looking). Her answering machine was devoid of any calls that were remotely Sado-like. She could still feel the grains of dirt that had come from his lips.
Was it because Yuta reminded her of Sado? It was impossible, and yet it seemed so possible since, after all, this weak and talkative boy was perhaps the epitome of all nothings not Sado. I'm beating around the bush, she struggled to focus on the problem at hand.
Bitter, that was how it tasted. She liked the flavor—it was arousing. The first thing her mind wandered to was Ichigo's face. It lingered for several seconds while she leaned back against the park bench, before being dispelled by Uryu's quiet face. No, that too was a delusion. She'd tasted this before. Coffee... whose coffee?
"Who did you see?" Yuta smiled sheepishly. Scratching the back of his head, he contemplated running away or kissing her again. Would he really run without waiting for an answer? A part of him on the inside wished that she would say his name. But he already knew it was going to be somebody else. It was hopeless as it were, and he was just applying salt to his own wound by waiting around for her to decide. But if he could do anything for her, this would be it. He murmured her name softly, doing his best to match her movements.
The voice was suddenly unnaturally deep. Orihime nearly hiccuped in surprise. Does he want me to choose somebody else? Why did he even care?
Below, the water glimmered the deep hue of crimson. As reflections of the sunset glimmered off of liquid crystal, the image of a man running from the other end of the canal gave off a certain impression. Behind the tightly locked couple, a train of bikes rode by, the young children at front gaping at the sheer audacity. It was a public park—not many dared to engage one another so intimately in a public situation.
The hours went by. As it grew dark, Orihime suddenly realized that she was alone. Yuta had long since left her there on the park bench. She could vaguely recall their short conversation before the boy had taken to his heels. He looked unusually cute as he ran off. A strange calm overtook her, accompanied by the sting of guilt.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this..."
Supposed to be like what? A voice in her head seemed to answer her instantaneously.
Rather than answer, Orihime drowned herself in deep thought again. After some time, she replied wearily, "I don't know... I don't know anymore..."
What is it that you don't know?
"Uh—huh...?"
Or are you going to run away from everything again, just like you always do...?
She could still feel Yuta's lips on hers. She was changing the subject again... Tsubaki was probably laughing at her, she could feel it. Orihime felt spiteful: At least Tsubaki had somebody who would comfort him in solace. From the sky above, the moonlight faded away behind the clouds. She could no longer recall what it was that she had been searching for all this time.
Ichigo... she wondered what he was doing now. Maybe she would surprise him with a visit, just leap onto him from the moment he opened the door. How the silent girl so strongly desired to be who she had once been. It would be so much easier to just go back to those days... those Halcyon Days.
"Orihime..."
Alarmed, she flung herself from the bench and turned around. Blackness shrouded her vision, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw further still that the park was just that: black. She was alone, and probably wasn't even allowed to be here at this time of the night. "Hey," she mumbled. "Talk to me..." But as much as she prompted her inner voice to speak again, it would not. She strained her ear for any indication of life other than her own and those of the slumbering residents—to no avail, but comforting in effort alone.
She already knew what her mind was trying to tell her. Yet there was no way to really live with that answer. She was still so caught up, so tangled. Her heart was still chained to the ground, with no evident form of escape or refuge, both appreciated if available. For a moment Orihime really wanted to believe that she could, but...
...her heart was too distracted to think about Ichigo right now.
