She came to on a dark, crowded bus that was slowing clumsily to a stop at an abandoned street. Frowning, she reached out to steady herself only to find a sleeping baby suddenly materialize in her arms. Her arm came up naturally to support the baby's head, but for the life of her, she couldn't recall why she was here on this bus holding a baby.
"Finally awake, are you?" said the passenger sitting next to her. Without waiting for her response or bothering to look at her, he rose and stepped out into the aisle.
"Wait!" she called out in a hoarse voice still gravely from sleep.
"No waiting," another stranger said sternly as the passengers disembarked in a military march. "No waiting," someone repeated.
"Didn't you hear them? No waiting!" shouted the driver, locking eyes with her through the mirror overhead.
"What?" She looked around, noticing she was the only one remaining in her seat.
"I said no waiting. Don't make me push you off."
"I'm not sure this is where I—"
"—Who cares," the driver interjected. "Get off before I make you."
She rose on unsteady feet, feeling terribly light as if she hadn't eaten all day. Come to think of it, she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. With that thought, a yawning emptiness awakened in her belly.
"Sir," she said as she approached the driver. "I think I'm lost."
"Like I said," the driver snapped, "it doesn't concern me. You should leave. Now."
"Could you at least let me know where we are?" She gestured helplessly at the baby. "And I think someone may have left this baby behind by mistake. I—I'm not the mother."
The driver laughed humorlessly. "No," he said, laughter falling flat before he got up and pushed.
His hands collided with her shoulders with all the subtlety of a freight train. She flew backwards, losing her grip on the baby—
Hisana's eyes fluttered open, foot jerking, sweaty hair clinging to her sticky neck. She turned her head sharply to look at the mirror on the opposite wall. There she was, pale skin washed in inky darkness stretched over sharp bone, eyes rendered black by her surroundings. Skeletal. Monstrous.
She was hungry.
Fifty. Fifty-two? How long had it been? How many years had passed since she abandoned the baby crying on the side of the road like a piece of trash?
"Why are we hungry?" she had asked once. "Shinigami, humans, hollows… why are we hungry?"
"You needed something. You wanted something. You failed in life to get it. Even if you have forgotten the object, your soul will not forget the desire even in death."
"What does that mean?"
"Who knows?"