Enjoy!

.

.

.

.

Auburn Strands and Red Threads #12

Kisuke paced back and forth in his living room. He mumbled to himself, biting at his thumb. He was growing extremely impatient—worried—frantic.

Yoruichi just left, so he shouldn't want to do anything rash just yet . . . But what was going on? What would be the end result of all this? What would happen to Orihime? Would she be okay? Was she being tortured? Were they breaking her will over a situation that had been blown out of proportion?

No . . . No, they wouldn't do that because, at this stage, it would be highly unprofessional—if not uncalled for. Still, Kisuke could just force her back. With an experiment he used a long time ago, he could quite literally transport her from there to here. But . . . just like last time, it'll be easy for their lab men to trace her spiritual energy back to his place, and there was no telling what punishment they would give in this lifetime.

He groaned, thinking of every possible situation. Maybe it was time he locked her away . . . Maybe—

There was a knock.

Kisuke looked up, ears alert to his surroundings, and the knock came again. He looked to the left corner of the room, where he kept a folding screen, and frowned deeper. There was no way a knock could be coming from there right now.

"H-hello?" a muffled voice beckoned, knocking again.

Kisuke's eyes widened. He rushed to the screen, yanking it aside, and opened the door he kept hidden from view just as another knock started. He stared, eyes uncharacteristically wide.

"Um," the auburn girl started, staring like she didn't know him. Her hand was still raised to knock, and she looked over her shoulder, into darkness, and back at the man in front of her. "K-Kisuke?"

It was her.

He trembled, pulling her through the doorway, and hugged her. She squeaked, the hand trapped between their bodies instinctively clutching his clothes. Her other hand also came up, gripping just below his shoulder.

"How did you get here?" he said on a breath, mostly to himself. "Orihime, how did you . . . get here?"

But then he regretted saying it at all. He didn't want to know. He didn't want her to think about it because she must have seen something. She must have seen him.

"I-"

He pulled her away, shutting the door and putting the screen back up; she stayed in his arms, stumbling slightly as he haphazardly moved about. He had to move quick, not just to distract her, but to send a message to Yoruichi. He released Orihime near the table in the middle of the room, running to his research room. He didn't know why he didn't keep his communicator with him, but it gave him enough time to put distance between him and Orihime for the moment.

He fumbled through papers and pushed over equipment. Finally, he located something that resembled a silver fountain pen. He picked it up, hands shaking, and pushed the tiny button on top. "Yoruichi," he said, voice wavering, "can you hear me?"

He waited. He was going to try again when a tiny, "Kisuke?" replied.

He sighed, pressing the button again. "Come back. Orihime's here, so, quickly, come back."

"She's back? How?"

"She," he paused, lowering his voice. "She came through the door."

There was hesitation.

"What have you told her?" Yoruichi asked cautiously.

"Nothing. I . . . I really need you to come back as fast as you can. I don't think I can-"

"It's okay," she assured. "I just hope you don't mind if I bring along some company."

"Who?" Kisuke bristled, mind racing. "Are you in trouble?"

"No . . . Um, I'll be there in a bit. Try to keep calm."

No more was said. He set the pen down and let his head hang. This should be a joyous occasion, but now he couldn't even face the person he so desperately wanted to see.

He sighed, shaking his head. There was never a problem like this before. Out of all the things he experienced, and out of all the ways he learned to counter them, this was a first, and he didn't need this happening now.

Kisuke turned, suddenly aware of the presence in the doorway. Orihime stood there, clutching her arm. She looked at him, eyes sad, panicked, and confused. His heart thumped painfully in his chest.

"Um," she started, biting her lip, "I-Inuyasha is still there. I should . . . I need to go back to get him."

Kisuke almost jolted. "Go back?" His voice was tight, throat painfully sore. "Orihime, the whole point was to get you out."

"But I think he's hurt and . . . Th-this . . . He wouldn't be in all this if it wasn't because of me."

"Orihime," Kisuke shook his head, "I'll work something out. I'll get him if I have to or . . ." He trailed off, noticing how she wasn't looking at him anymore. She stared at the ground, shifting uncomfortably. He knew it then.

She did see something.

Kisuke hoped—he desperately wished—she didn't see him.

"Kisuke, I'm not in . . . I think something is wrong with me. I think I might not be all that well mentally because I saw . . ."

Kisuke hesitated but figured there was no way he could just stay silent and hope she drops the issue. "You were under a lot of stress. I don't know what's going on right now, but not feeling well in the head after the stress you've been put under is normal. You just need to rest a while."

Orihime still didn't look at him. She fidgeted, a troubled frown setting in place the more he spoke. Her breathing picked up as she let the seconds pass. "Before I came here," she said softly, "a . . . door opened up."

Kisuke waited. He could feel that urge bubbling—the urge to quit before things had a chance to end horribly.

"Someone came to get me."

His insides were jumping, and he didn't want to hear this. He didn't need another reason to just give up.

Orihime looked at him, eyes shimmering with tears. She doubted her own words, "He looked like my-"

"Orihime!" he interrupted, panting, he wasn't sure why. He regretted not thinking about what to say next. "Later. I'll explain it later, okay?"

Her eyes widened, hands clenching at her sides, mouth trying to form words. Kisuke pushed himself off the table and walked towards her, intending to walk pass her to try to find anything else to do, but she latched on to him.

"S-so you know?" Her voice cracked.

He couldn't look at her.

"Was that him?" she pleaded, squeezing his arm tighter.

He knew if he looked at her he'd see tears, but what could he do to stop them?

"Kisuke, please," she nearly sobbed. "Was that Sora?"

Dammit.

"Was that my brother?"

He felt himself shatter. That was an impossible question to answer. Kisuke—not knowing what else to do and feeling incredibly defeated—turned to face Orihime and hugged her tightly. He knew he should say something, but there was nothing he could say to make the current situation any better. For all he knew, saying anything could only make things worse for her, and that was never his intention. She cried, begging for answers—she had to know—it didn't make sense—there was no way he could be alive—please tell her.

"Later," he whispered. His chest tightened with each sob that pierced through his body. "I promise I'll explain it all later."

"B-but I-I s-saw him. I-i-it was like h-he never stopped aging. It w-was like he was a-alive this whole time!"

He squeezed her tighter.

"Why did he leave me? If he was alive, why did he leave me? Did I rely on him too much? Did he get tired of me?"

Dammit.

"I-I-I've missed him!"

Dammit! Why were things falling apart like this? Things never fell apart like this.

The next five minutes passed by slowly. Orihime cried, all the while Kisuke's heart broke. All she wanted was an answer, but it wasn't that simple. This situation required a detailed explanation, and he wasn't ready for that. Plain and simple.

After she calmed down, he walked her back to the living room and sat her down. Her face was red and puffy, and her eyes were even more so. She stared at the table, the look in her eyes distant. He offered to get her a drink, but she said nothing. He stared helplessly for a moment then stood anyway.

"Kisuke," she called softly, voice hoarse.

He turned to her. "Yes?"

"The . . . Captain General told me . . . that I wasn't allowed to see you anymore."

He waited, stomach dropping.

"I think . . . I think I should lis-"

"I'll be back," Kisuke said, rushing to the kitchen.

Where was Yoruichi? What was this about the Captain General, and why was he butting into things? Why was he filling Orihime's mind with . . . Why did he . . .

Orihime was upset with him. She was upset with him because of what she saw, and she wanted an explanation so she won't be so confused. Kisuke was not in a position where giving her an explanation would beneficial, and that was surely being fueling whatever seed of doubt the Captain General planted.

Kisuke ground his teeth lightly. Honestly, it made no sense that old man would be interfering right now when Kisuke hasn't done anything to cause trouble in the Soul Society for who knows how long by this point, and he had no warning that he had done anything wrong. Why did that old fart think to get Orihime involved in the first place? How much do they know if they're using Orihime to get to him? She was about to leave him, and none of it made any sense.

Could he reset the world for that?

Could he start over simply because she didn't want to be around him anymore? He could, but that wasn't fair to her. There was nothing wrong with her life here. However . . .

"Dammit!" He slammed his fist on the countertop. Where did he go wrong?

"Is everything alright?" He didn't have to turn to know it was Tessai.

"I don't know," Kisuke replied firmly.

"I heard Orihime." Tessai paused. "Is it time again?"

Kisuke thought it over. Then, he remembered there was another option. "Do we still have those pills?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Which ones?"

"The pink ones."

Silence.

"I believe we do."

"Bring them to me."

"Kisuke," Tessai said slowly, "they were only tested that one time."

"We used them generously."

"That one lifetime. Things change when-"

"Tessai," Kisuke's voice was strained. "I need them."

Orihime continued to stare at the table.

She was worried about both Inuyasha and Ichigo, but her mind was still very . . . distracted.

.

"It's nice to see you again."

.

Her stomach clenched. Even if he was an older version, that was definitely her brother. The hair was shaggier, almost wavy, and his jaw was more squared, but those gentle, brown eyes hadn't changed. The way he spoke to her, the way he interacted her . . . It couldn't have been anyone else.

How?

Sora . . . died a long time ago. She attended his funeral and kept his picture in her apartment as a reminder. So . . .

.

"It's nice to see you again."

.

"How?" she whispered harshly, eyes shutting tight. How could he leave her, come back like nothing had happened, and then disappear again? Why didn't he explain himself instead of telling her how to come here? Why here anyway? Was she going crazy? No . . . No, because Kisuke knew about this, too—about Sora. Did Kisuke know Sora was alive all this time? Did he know Sora was her brother?

.

"There is a fascination with your family that he cannot seem to shake."

.

What did that mean? Why were there secrets concerning her life?

"Orihime."

She opened her eyes, staring down at her lap. She was clenching her hands far too tightly, and her body had stiffened. She relaxed, looking up at the man in the doorway. He held a blue cup in his hands.

"Are you alright?"

She didn't know how to answer that. She didn't want to answer that. Of course she wasn't okay, but if she spoke, her words would come out harsh. Even if she wanted to come off that way, and she kind of did, she couldn't do it when Kisuke sounded and looked so worried. Was this all a show?

Kisuke sat across from her, setting the cup down on her side. She muttered her thanks; however, being in the same room as him made her extremely irritated and devastated. She no longer knew if she could trust him, and if it turned out this was all a game to him . . . she wouldn't be able to take it. It was her own fault for getting attached to him as if he were actually family, but she had felt so sure that she could be that way with him. She thought Kisuke viewed her as family, too . . .

She picked up the cup, and when she happened to look up, her irritation turned into unease. Kisuke was watching her intently. She didn't know what was going on with him. He seemed to pay extra special attention to her all of a sudden. She grasped the cup tightly; the coolness calmed her nerves.

"I need to get Inuyasha," she mumbled. "And I need to check on Ichigo. They . . . were fighting."

"They were?" His words were distant.

He was still . . . so focused on her. It was unnerving, so she distracted herself by drinking. Even then, Kisuke's eyes never left hers, and she drank longer than she intended. Gasping softly, she pulled the cup away from her face.

She stared at her cup, perplexed.

This juice was . . . very sweet. Addictively tangy.

She lifted the cup to her lips and found she couldn't stop drinking until it was all gone. She gasped for air again when she was done.

"You were thirsty," Kisuke mused, a small smile tugging at his lips.

She blushed, looking away. "About what I said earlier . . . about what the Captain General said . . ."

"I don't want you to leave me," he said softly.

Orihime blinked at the floor. "I'm sorry, but . . . but . . . S-sorry . . ." She swayed, feeling nauseous. Her head felt cloudy, almost heavy. She placed her hands on either side as if she could keep it from falling. Her eyes drooped of their own accord. Her heart thumped; her body wasn't acting how she wanted it to. "Kis . . . Kisuke," she called, frantic.

"I'm right here."

She was cradled in his arms. She hadn't even noticed him moving, so there was no telling how she got into his arms, which only alarmed her more.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm tired of losing you."

She looked up at him, but all she could see were blurs. Who was she talking to? What was being talked about? Where was she? She didn't know.

There was just darkness.

Kisuke watched as her eyelids fell; her expression melted from confused to peaceful slumber. He sighed and set her down on the floor, cushioning pillows under her head. He hated himself for this; he shouldn't have done that to her, but . . . this life was good. He didn't want to start over.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pushing hair out of her face.

A knock came from the door—the door. He glared at the screen in the corner and stormed over to it, pushing the obstacle out of the way and opening the door.

"You must be angry," the brown haired man said as he walked in backwards, "but hold on for a minute."

"Sora-!" Kisuke noticed the boy he was carrying by the underarms. Yoruichi followed, carrying the boy's feet. Judging by the red cloak and the—odd—ears on his head, this must have been the Inuyasha he's heard about. He had gashes all over his body, and his clothes were barely hanging onto him. Surprisingly, his face was not as scarred as his body—the worst damage looked more like a series of paper cuts.

"I have no idea what happened to him," Yoruichi said as she and Sora walked the unconscious boy a few more feet forward before setting him down.

"He fought Ichigo," Kisuke said.

"What?" She looked at him, clearly skeptical. "Him? Why?"

"I don't know, but I know one thing." He turned, ready to confront the major issue, but didn't find what he was looking for. He turned around to find Sora kneeling over Orihime, marveling at her and stroking her face only to switch to stroking her hair.

Kisuke's anger boiled for an intense, brief second, but he couldn't force it to last longer than that. When the brunette looked at his sister with such adoration and wonder, how could Kisuke force himself to be angry?

He sighed, wiping his face. He reached for Yoruichi's hand and gave it a firm squeeze. She returned the pressure.

"Look at her," Sora awed, eyes shining brightly. "She's grown up so much."

"Yes," Kisuke agreed, pulling Yoruichi along as he went to stand beside to the eldest Inoue. "In this life, she's managed on her own quite nicely."

"She even grew her hair again," Sora whispered, caressing the splayed, fiery locks. "I've missed her so much."

"Sora," Kisuke said, choosing his words carefully. "Why did you go after her?"

"What do you mean why?" Sora didn't look away from his sister. "You told me she was in trouble. What did you expect me to do?"

Yoruichi tugged on Kisuke's hand. "Why did you tell him?"

"I didn't expect him to go after her," Kisuke exclaimed. "I was panicking. I needed to talk to someone."

"We had a plan," Yourichi said at the same time Sora said:

"I panicked, too."

"How did you know where to find her?" Kisuke turned his attention to Sora. "You even found her before Yoruichi, so how did you know where to go?"

"Honestly," Sora glanced up at the shopkeeper, "I got lucky."

Kisuke shook his head, his mind overwhelmed. "She recognized you, you know."

"I know." Sora smiled, tears welling in his eyes. "It's great, isn't it? I thought she would have forgotten me by now."

"How could she forget?" Yoruichi asked sincerely. "No matter how many times we do this, she never forgets you."

"Except when I'm the one left behind." He swallowed hard, turning his gaze back to the unconscious girl. He frowned slightly. "Why is she sleeping? I was hoping to talk to her."

Kisuke shifted. Yoruichi looked at him, curious. He was acting strange. She looked back at Orihime and vaguely wondered if he did something.

The blond coughed, "I . . . gave her something to drink."

Sora's brows furrowed, head shaking in confusion. "Something to drink? Why are you being so . . . ?"

The room was quiet—Kisuke waiting for Sora's reaction while Yoruichi was trying to figure out why Kisuke was being so sketchy. Sora was lost in thought because the situation did not seem right, and he didn't know if he was having a gut feeling or if he was just paranoid due to overstimulation. Sora figured it was possible Orihime fell asleep due to all that's happened, but Orihime didn't sleep perfectly on her back—not from what he's observed. Did she faint? That was also possible, but Kisuke said he gave her something to drink. He was being really vague about it, and Sora hated when he did that because . . .

Wait, Sora asked Kisuke why Orihime was sleeping, and Kisuke's answer was he gave her a drink.

He gave her . . .

Sora's head snapped back to the uneasy man. "That pink pill?!"

Kisuke tilted his head apologetically.

Sora jumped to his feet. "Why would you do that?!"

"Uh," Yoruichi looked between them, "which one is that again?"

Sora's eyes squinted, becoming dark. "The pill that makes a person forget the last fifteen minutes of their life."

Yoruichi shot Kisuke a questioning look. "That's such a specific use. Why would you give her that?"

"It wasn't because of Sora, I swear. It was . . ." He sighed. "A very selfish reason."

"Kisuke-" Sora tried to keep his voice even. He took a deep breath before speaking again. "After all this time, I finally get to meet her, and you go and make her forget. Do I at least get to see her when she wakes up?"

"It would . . . be too much for her. She needs more time."

"More time?!" Sora raised his hands but brought them down forcefully. He turned, thrusting a hand in his hair, the other grabbing the fabric at his hip. He wanted to be reasonable, but it was difficult when he's come so close to Orihime only to be taken away again. "How much more?! She's already fifteen! That's more than she was in my time and now you . . ." Sora stopped, huffing. "Fine, fine." He shook his head, sitting down to physically feel himself calm down. "You know what's best." He scoffed, looking away. "Always knows what's best."

Kisuke and Yoruichi sat next to him. It's been a while since they saw him get worked up; the last time had been at Orihime's funeral.

"Listen," Kisuke put a gentle hand on Sora's shoulder. "Honestly, I didn't mean to hurt you, and I'm sorry I'm doing this. I just . . . I promise you'll get to meet her again, okay? There's a lot going on right now, so it's best not to overwhelm her."

"She's going to be overwhelmed either way." Sora looked back at Orihime, distressed. He looked between her and Kisuke, his breathing becoming uneven. "I just . . . want to be there for her like I should've been."

This distressed Kisuke. He had to have faith in his own gut instincts, and he didn't think Sora meeting her would end well in the slightest. However, it felt like a complete overstep on his part to deny family to be united.

"Sora," Yoruichi said, wrapping one arm around him, "you know we love you, right? Kisuke especially cares so much about you, so you know that he's only looking out for your best interests. Just bear with him a little longer." She gave Sora a light squeeze. "I know he can be unreasonable at times, but it always works out in the end."

Sora's deep brown eyes slid to the man next to him. He couldn't fully be angry. It was all thanks to him that he could see Orihime in the first place. "Fine." Sora rolled his eyes and sighed once again. "So . . . who's that guy over there?" he muttered. They all turned to look at the red cloaked boy.

"I believe his name is Inuyasha," Kisuke replied.

"He has fuzzy ears."

"You touched them?"

. . . You wouldn't?"

Kisuke chuckled.

Sora looked back at his sister. "Kisuke," he said curiously, still mumbling.

"What is it?"

"You didn't . . . do anything to her, did you?"

Kisuke frowned. "What do you mean?"

"She's . . . Well . . . She seems a lot more . . . filled out . . . than I thought possible."

Both Kisuke and Yoruichi laughed. Sora stared at them, unamused; he thought they were losing their minds.

Kisuke recovered first, still smiling. "Believe it or not, I think this is natural for her. In all the other times, she's filled out like this."

Sora Inoue cocked an eyebrow. "My sister . . . lives alone . . . looking like this? How is that safe?"

"How is what safe?"

"What do you mean what?" Sora straightened himself, gesturing to the auburn. "Look at her! Sh-she must get hit on by creeps and perverts all the time! You're telling me she doesn't have to have about fifteen locks on her door?!"

"Actually," Yoruichi cracked a smile, "Orihime isn't as weak as you think. She also has friends that won't let any harm come her way. Some are . . . more forceful than others."

Sora stared at Yoruichi with wide, dumbstruck eyes. "Friends? You mean . . . she doesn't get picked on anymore?"

"I highly doubt it," Kisuke said. "She's quite popular, you know."

Sora looked back at the young girl, tears stinging his eyes. "So . . . she's not lonely?" He brought a fist to his mouth, trying not to smile so hard. "She's not lonely . . ."

o0o0o

Kisuke allowed Sora to stay until Orihime started to stir, which usually signaled an awakening in a minute or so.

After Sora left, Kisuke was forced to face a new problem. The old man ordered Orihime to stay away from him . . . Did he know what Kisuke was doing? Was that even possible?

"Where's Ichigo?" he asked his partner.

Yoruichi looked up at him and glanced at Orihime. "If he was still there, then I didn't see him. Why would he have gone there anyway?"

Kisuke turned away from her, staring out the sliding glass door. "Promise you won't get mad."

"Kisuke," she muttered, "did you send him?"

"I meant well."

She stared at him, truly tired of his impatience. "Are you trying to get these kids killed or something? You can't send them off to the Soul Society at your leisure."

"I don't mean to use them."

"So, what did you send me for?" she demanded.

"I . . . figured he'd be a distraction."

Yoruichi shook her head, slightly put off. "We're talking when I get back."

He watched her charge over to the folding screen. "Where are you going?"

"To get Ichigo!" She slammed the door behind her.

He hated to make her angry . . . But, damn, did she look sexy when she was. Maybe she'd yell at him later. Punish him, even.

"Maybe," he chuckled to himself. Ichigo would be okay, though. No way would Kisuke send Ichigo into danger the boy couldn't handle.

Kisuke looked at the sleeping people on his floor; his attention gradually turned to Inuyasha. This was the longest the shopkeeper stayed in any given lifetime, so the presence of . . . this boy was more than just refreshing.

It was a bit unnerving.

Kisuke always saw the same people in each lifetime with few alterations. Sometimes they would have different names, a different parent, a different home town, but it was always the same people with the same souls. This Inuyasha fellow was a new variable all together. What affect would he have, and was it best to encourage Orihime to hang around him? This never . . . happened before.

And there was the issue of that crystal . . .

On closer inspection, he noticed something strange about the boy. He knelt next to him, looking him over.

"His injuries . . . are slowly healing."