-Hello, Halcyon Days-
Orihime gazed out along the ruined throne room in front of her, chest heaving and heart pounding in her throat. It's over. She thought, trying to calm her racing thoughts, It's finally over...
The heavy scent of blood clung to her nose and choked her throat. The dying curl of an oppressive reiatsu lessened its iron grip around her lungs. She was shaking.
It's over. She repeated. And then, He won.
The thought spurred her into action faster than anything else could. In an instant she was standing, though the wave of relief threatened to topple her. The other people in the room took notice of her stunned movement, a few of them beginning to ask her what was wrong. She didn't pay them any mind.
There was somewhere she had to be.
He had won. Orihime was sure of that. Even far away, she could feel the comforting warmth of his reiatsu, though it was distinctly tired and strained. Orihime's strides gained strength and purpose with each step, determination guiding her to where she was needed. It was without question that he was injured. Of course he was. She had seen the damaged heaped upon him earlier.
No one could hope to fight god and come out unschathed.
It was up to her to heal him.
He needed her.
Upon arriving at the scene, she froze.
He stood, ragged and bleeding and victorious. He turned, catching her eye. Even holding a hand to a wound in his side, even with dark blood matting his bright hair, he smiled at her. Warmth and pride radiating from his expression. She couldn't stop her own smile if she tried.
He took a step towards her
And then another
And then a wall of people in black robes separated them, pulling them apart.
All at once Orihime's happiness shattered as they cut her off from the one person she so desperately wanted to be close to. Rough hands held her back, and she could do nothing but watch as he was dragged away.
A scream tore through her throat, ringing in her ears long after her voice gave out.
The ringing grew louder, transforming into a harsh, chirping tone.
Bee-bee-beep! Bee-bee-beep! Bee-bee-beep!
Orihime's eyes snapped open to the sound of her alarm, mind reeling from the bizarre dream she had been having.
Wait. That was the sound of her second alarm. Which meant—
"I'm late!" She cried as she jumped out of bed, racing to complete her morning routine as quickly as possible. The specifics of the dream already slipping from her consciousness.
She shoved books into her bag haphazardly, pausing only for a moment by the front door.
Am I forgetting anything? Phone, wallet, keys, homework? Check.
Something itched in the back of her mind. She shrugged. Getting to class on time was more important than whatever it was. Her friend was probably already waiting for her.
Sure enough, "Good morning Orihime!" Arisawa Tatsuki called loudly as Orihime locked the apartment door behind her.
"Oh! Hi Tatsuki-chan!" For what it was worth, Inoue Orihime was not having a good morning. But she wouldn't let that get in the way of her own outwardly positive attitude.
The two made idle chatter on their walk to school, meeting up with a few other people along the way. The group talked and bickered until the school came into view and discussion turned fully to the upcoming test and how no one was ready for it. Orihime couldn't keep her mind focused on the conversation.
Waking up late had been bad enough, but the strange feeling from the already-forgotten dream reamined. She was no stranger to odd dreams, it was almost guaranteed with her overactive imagination, but this one left her stomach churning uncomfortably, even though the details had already vanished from her thoughts. Not to mention she realized her lunch was still sitting in her fridge and— oh! Tatsuki was talking to her.
"Helloooooo! Earth to Orihime!" Tatsuki waved a hand in front of Inoue's face.
Orihime blinked, blushing slightly, "Ah sorry! Guess I'm a bit distracted today." She was a bit distracted every day.
"So? What about you, Inoue?"
"Eh? Me? What was the question again?"
"We were wondering how long you studied last night." Ryou repeated.
Michiru sighed, looking concerned, "Are you okay? You seem kinda out of it today."
Not wanting her friends to worry, Orihime waved her hands around and shook her head. "Ah no! I'm fine! I just had a strange dream, that's all. I don't even remember what it was about. Nothing to worry about! Nothing at all!"
Not fully convinced but not wanting to push the issue further, the girls continued their conversation without her; though occasionally threw a few concerned glances at each other.
Despite waking up late, Orihime was glad to see that there was still time before homeroom. Her eyes scanned the small crowd for the handful of people that were her friends. Sado was seated at his desk, looking over some last-minute notes. Ishida was calmly reading a personal book, no doubt all ready to ace the upcoming exam. She moved her attention to the third row desk closest to the window, eyes fixed on the person who sat there. He was currently caught in the crossfire of an exchange between a very animated Keigo and a very disinterested Mizurio.
"Hi Kur—"
The world shuddered. For the briefest of moments, the person she was looking at was a stranger. Orihime blinked, and everything snapped back into motion, her attention slowly tracing up the familiar lines and angles of the desk's occupant.
Polite posture. Soft round features. Large black eyes. Short dark hair. The little curl of a cowlick sticking off the top of his head.
Everything she expected to see.
She gave her head a shake, trying to get rid of the feeling that was the exact opposite of deja-vu. "Hi Kuramoto-kun!" She tried again.
At the call of his name, the boy by the window looked over and offered a sweet smile. Orihime fought to keep the blush from showing. Kuramoto Haruki was shy and bookish, but not stuck up about it like Ishida could be. He didn't talk much, but the few conversations she had with him were charming and funny in such a surprising way. Oh, and she had been maybe kind of crushing on him since they had met.
Orihime was about to walk over and talk more, when the teacher strutted in and started class. Kuramoto sent her an apologetic smile as he carefully pushed Keigo back into his own chair.
The school day went by quickly and without incident. Orihime felt confident about her math test, and Tatsuki had shared half of her lunch out of pity. The hustle and bustle of school was enough of a distraction to pull her out of her foggy thoughts. But then the final bell was ringing and she was following the flood of students out of the building and the strange dream came back to her.
It wasn't the first dream like that she had experienced, she thought with a frown. The past two months had been filled sporatically with similar night visions. All of them were hazy and only half-remembered, but held similar themes of fighting and blood. She felt like she should be afraid in these dreams, but a comforting presence was always by her side, keeping her safe and—
A shock of orange flitted across the periphery of Orihime's vision. She turned, but whoever it was had disappeared into the crowd of people walking down the busy street. A frown tugged at her features. As far as she knew, she was the only person in Karakura with such a bright hair color. Other than the thugs and delinquents, of course. She shrugged and continued on her way home. Halfway there, her phone rang. The caller ID flashed 'Sora' across the screen and her grip tightened a fraction.
It had to have been pretty late where he was calling from. Or maybe it was really early. Time zones always confused her. She quickly pressed 'Accept' and brought the phone to her ear. "Hey Onii-chan! No, you're not interrupting anything..."
-0-
The week slipped by easily. Each day, the feeling left by the not-quite-nightmare faded more from Orihime's mind. Despite that, something still felt distinctly off. As if she had left her apartment and had no idea if the stove had been left on. It nagged at the back of her mind. Something about the world felt strange in a way she couldn't explain.
One day at lunch, she had attempted to talk to her friends about her concerns. They had brushed off the fears and blamed her usual overactive imagination. Even Ishida had raised an eyebrow when she confided to him at the craft club meeting.
Late in the evening on Friday, Orihime found herself walking along the familiar roads and alleys of her hometown. She had no destination in mind and simply let her feet take her wherever. Wherever turned out to be a residential street in the quiet part of town. Her walking stopped at the edge of a rectangle of orange light, spilling out from a modest family building. She stared at it for a long while.
"Do you need anything?" A voice called, startling Orihime out of her haze. A scruffy, dark-haired man stood in the open door ahead of her. "I'm just about to close up, but if you've got a cold or something, I can take a look at it real quick if you want."
She blinked owlishly, finally glancing at the sign above the door: Kurosaki Clinic.
The world spun and Orihime's mind blanked. She had walked by this building before and never paid it any attention, she was sure of it. But something about the name paired with the soft orange glow pricked at her brain.
Kurosaki.
The name was familiar on her tongue in a way that was unexplainable.
She knew that name.
The scent of strawberries filled her nose as her knees buckled beneath her.
-0-
Orihime awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright the second she regained consciousness. This usually wouldn't have been a problem, unless someone else was hovering their face over her to check for injuries or something. Unfortunately, that was exactly the case. She blinked once, rubbing her forehead and glancing over at what— or more accurately, who— she had hit. It was the same man who had been talking to her just before, toppled over and clutching a hand to his bleeding nose. Oops.
She opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could say anything, more people entered the room: A pair of girls looking just a few years younger than Orihime herself.
"Daddy! Are you okay!?" The lighter-haired girl asked, fretting over the man on the ground.
The darker-haired girl rolled her eyes, "He's fine, Yuzu. Quit overreacting." Yuzu wasted no time in stuffing handfuls of gauze in her father's face.
The door swung open again, a fourth person entering the now-crowded room. She had long auburn hair, a shade or two darker than Orihime's own. "What's all the commotion in here?" She spoke, her voice like honey.
The man scooted his way across the floor to the woman's feet. "Masakiiiiii~ My beautiful Karin is being so mean to me!" He cried in fake hurt.
Masaki frowned, but Orihime could see the playful glint in her warm eyes. "Now Isshin, is that any way to behave in front of a patient?" She chided. Her attention turned to Orihime, "Are you okay? You took quite the spill outside. Luckily, you didn't hit your head." She carefully corralled her daughters out the door to let the impromptu appointment finish.
As Isshin got to his feet, Orihime took in the room she was in: a small doctor's office filled with jars of bandaids and drawers of medical equipment. The bed she was seated on was firm with crisp, stiff sheets.
The blood had stopped dripping from Isshin's nose, and he went about checking her vitals.
"Thanks for helping me, Kurosaki-san. S-sorry about your nose." Orihime stutterd, bowing deeply after her check-up had finished
Isshin waved her concern away, scribbling the last of his notes on a clipboard. "Ah, no need to be so formal, I'm just doing my job. You should be more worried about yourself. Lucky I looked outside when I did."
Orihime hummed, thoughtful. Yeah. Lucky. "Well, it's gotten late. I should get going. Thanks again—"
"Nonsense! You said you didn't have dinner yet, yeah?" Orihime nodded, she hadn't felt hungry earlier. "You should eat something before you go. Hypoglycaemia is no joke. Masaki and Yuzu will be happy to have someone else try their newest recipe. Come on."
That was how Orihime found herself shuffled into a cozy kitchen filled with the scent of warm butter and melted chocolate. Karin pulled up a chair for her and Yuzu deposited a plate of cookies and a mug of hot tea. Orihime was surprised how easy it was to fall into comfortable conversation with the family. The girls asked her about hair products and school while Isshin dutifully cleaned up the kitchen, all while Masaki kept a steady stream of snacks headed her way. It should have been awkward acting so at-home around complete strangers, but Orihime found herself relaxing easily around the family; as if she belonged there.
The family of four was almost idyllic, full of more love and warmth than Orihime thought possible. And yet, there was something missing that she couldn't quite put her finger on. At a lull in the conversation, Orihime's eyes were drawn to the stairs that led to the second floor, half expecting someone else to appear from around the corner and join the merry atmosphere. A deep longing sadness tugged at her heart and she glanced again at the empty stairway.
It was fully dark by the time Orihime managed to extricate herself from the warm embrace of the Kurosaki family. She would have to bring some bread from her work to pay back their kindness at some point. But for now, her thoughts were muddied, filled with the same sense of confusion that followed one of her strange dreams. Something was wrong with the world around her. Or maybe something was wrong with her own mind. She couldn't be sure and that uncertainty only made everything worse. She knew her imagination could go haywire sometimes, but this felt like something more. The sensation nagged at her all the way back to her apartment.
After the evening in that lively house, her own place felt excruciatingly lonely. Her own parents had died in a car accident when she was young and her older brother was traveling abroad for work for at least another year. The dark and empty room felt way too spacious for her liking. She felt exposed and observed, the walls peeled back to reveal a thousand eyes all trained on her alone. She couldn't reach her bed fast enough.
She huddled under the blankets, feeling miserable. Her stuffed bear Enraku clutched tightly to her chest. The soft fabric tickled her chin, her cheek rubbing against a rough seam. Huh? Why was there a seam there? Curious, she held the plush at arms-length above her. The fabric was smooth and unblemished. But... she had just felt...
She narrowed her eyes, fingers tracing a path down the front of the bear's face: an imaginary line that ran from the forehead under its left eye. Her focus tightened, narrowing in on that one detail, imagining the seam she had felt, believing it to be real. It shimmered. Then snapped into place. Orihime sucked in a breath, unwilling to blink. It was like her vision had doubled, seeing two Enrakus layered on top of each other: One with a jagged, stitched up seam and one without.
What?
Even after she hesitantly closed her eyes for a second, it stayed.
WHAT!?
"This isn't real." She whimpered, suddenly afraid.
What 'this' was she referring to?
Without even meaning to, she fell asleep; her short-circuiting mind deciding to just turn off instead of dealing with whatever horrible and arcane secret she may have just unearthed.
Her dreams were fitful, worse than before. In them, white corridors stretched on in an endless maze. A great black-winged demon clawed open her chest, ripping out her still-beating heart. The comforting presence by her side was gone—vanished—dead—twisted into something horrible and inhuman. She cried. This was all Wrong Wrong Wrong! He always wanted to protect her; why couldn't she couldn't protect him in return?
She wanted him back!
Where was he!?
Gray-brown eyes snapped open, searching the darkness of her room for something that wasn't there. Her heart hammered in her throat and tears spilled down her cheeks. Cold sweat dotted her forehead as an equally icy feeling twisted its way through her veins. Her lips parted, the whispered word shattered the silence like a gunshot.
"Ichigo..."