A/N: YES! I'm back! After three weeks of waiting in agony, I finally have wifi! So I shall post this extra long chapter in celebration (and also maybe dance around my apartment for a bit).

Honestly though, writing this chapter was a bit more difficult and took a lot longer than the other ones. Some I can write in two or three sittings with minor editing, but I had to come back to this one again and again before it felt right. Kensei/Orihime interactions can be hard to write well, so I hope I did them justice.

Another side note: I am editing some of the earlier chapters. Nothing major, just some typos/minor inconsistencies that I noticed when looking through them again. Enjoy! Your reviews make me a better (and happier) writer!

Saturday

12:12 p.m.

"I don't know," Orihime answered obstinately for the fourth time. "I just did it."

She was curled up on the sofa, wrapped in layers of blankets. All she wanted was to spend a few hours not thinking about what had happened, and veg out in front of the TV with Shinji. She guessed she should be grateful that the interrogation didn't start until the afternoon at least, and that she had been allowed to sleep in.

Lunch had been quiet, though, and slightly awkward. Even Hiyori and Shinji kept their quarreling to a minimum and Orihime ate quickly in a vain attempt to escape the ominous thundercloud darkening Kensei's face that she knew would soon break over her head.

The thundercloud ruptured not soon after and in the deluge of shouting and reprimanding and what-were-you-thinking, she could sense the fear that was floating just below the surface. So she sat and said nothing until the door was slammed and he was out of the room and Mashiro had her arm around her in comfort.

"Kensei's angry," Orihime noted sadly.

"Kensei's always angry," Mashiro replied.

If the white-haired vizard had remembered the word "grounded" from his pre-soul reaper days, that would have been the last word he shouted before he stormed off, leaving Orihime wishing she could find the adequate words to apologize.

Besides, it wasn't his anger that upset her, but his disappointment. She had left home in the middle of the night on her own without telling anyone, and had almost died as a result, the vizard finding her only moments before death could. If Hachi hadn't woken at the exact moment she left, there would have been yellow tape enclosing the house for her this time, leaving her family to cope with the loss. Orihime knew, without having to be told, that it would have been the worst for Kensei.

She had let him down, and she couldn't feel more miserable about it.

So, Orihime resigned herself to sheepishly giving her account of events (to everyone except Kensei, but her instincts told her he was still within earshot), after which Hachi took it upon himself to start questioning.

"But did you say anything?" he probed further. "Any kind of words that seemed especially powerful at that moment?"

"No, I just walked right through it. I didn't say anything."

Hachi was still terribly confused at what had happened. The barrier he put up each night should have repelled not only those trying to intrude, but those trying to leave as well. Even in his sleep, it was not difficult for him to maintain a relatively powerful barrier, so natural it was to him. However, after Hachi had quickly sounded the alarm and the vizard frantically rushed to the entrance, the group had found the barrier still intact and undisturbed.

"When are you going to tell me what's going on?" Orihime blurted out impatiently. "What happened to my brother? Why was my body on the other side of the room? And what was that wall of light that you keep asking me about?"

"All in good time, Orihime," Hachi reassured her. "For right now, let's focus on your last question. The wall of light that you saw was a barrier I created to keep others from finding this place and to keep you safely inside. As we discovered very early this morning, it failed one of those objectives. I would like to find out why."

Orihime, who had no understanding of the concept of kido, was equally flummoxed about the significance of what she'd done. No matter how pretty it was, she couldn't comprehend how the wall of light was supposed to keep her in, so easy had it been for her to leave.

She thought for a moment. "After I walked through the light and turned around to look back, the whole warehouse had disappeared. Is that what you mean by keeping others from finding it?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean."

"But even though I couldn't see it, I still knew that it was there. I mean, I could sense it and I knew I could've gotten back inside after I…err, after I came back."

Hachi stared at her for a moment, his face betraying nothing. "Is that so," he said finally. Orihime stared back, perplexed.

"I wonder… I have a theory," he continued. "But I need to see you do it to be sure."

"Do what?" Orihime asked, as Hachi thrust his arms out in front of him, uttering the phrase that would bring the kido into being.

He didn't really need words, but sometimes it was nice to impress, he mused, looking at the girl.

Orihime's eyes were as big as saucers.

12:28 p.m.

Shinji watched with raised eyebrows as the girl ran back and forth through the tiny Orihime-sized barrier at the largest vizard's prodding. She passed through it with no resistance and each time left Hachi looking more and more perplexed. He had never come across such a predicament in all his years, and years he had in plenty.

"So we're showing her our powers now?" Lisa muttered, materializing silently next to Shinji. Only a few of the vizard, like Hiyori, chose to announce their presence loudly.

"Well, we have to tell her something after everything that happened this morning. It would seem that keeping secrets could be even more dangerous." Shinji replied, his expression serious. "Besides, Hachi thinks she might have some kind of power of her own."

They watched curiously as Orihime halted her efforts, pausing to tug her barrettes loose from her hair at the vizard's request. The snowflake-shaped hair pieces shrunk to the size of toothpicks as she pressed them into one of Hachi's colossal hands. She watched expectantly as he examined them closely, and Shinji wondered if their young, fearless ward comprehended the enormity of the situation she had been thrust into.

If nothing else, he was sure, she had to know with some degree of certainty that her carefree (yet unconventional) childhood was coming to an end, and that nothing would be the same. She had changed, if nothing else. Your first hollow always changed you, especially when it was a relative.

There was only so long they could keep from telling her everything, Shinji knew. And as much as pig-headed Kensei would vehemently deny it, that day was coming sooner rather than later.

11:07 p.m.

It wasn't that Orihime couldn't fall asleep.

After everything that had happened the night before, though, she wasn't sure she wanted to. She didn't know what kind of horror her unconsciousness would conjure, not with the terrifying memories still fresh in her mind. Although she now knew that nightmare had been his doing, she also knew she was perfectly capable of having nightmares of her own.

She slipped out of bed and quietly opened the door to her room, her bare feet silently padding down the hall. Besides, she knew she couldn't sleep while Kensei was still upset with her.

When she got to his door, she softly knocked twice, then twisted the handle when she heard a muted "come in."

The room was dimly lit with just a lamp on a desk pushed up against a wall, she saw when she peeked in. Kensei was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, lifting rather heavy looking weights. He was wearing his familiar tank top and cargo pants, and Orihime absentmindedly thought to herself that she had never actually seen him wear a shirt with sleeves. She pushed the door open uncertainly, unsure of what to expect.

"What are you doing awake?" he grunted, beads of sweat forming at his brow as he brought the weight up to meet his shoulder. The thundercloud from that morning was nowhere in sight.

"I couldn't sleep," Orihime answered, tentatively taking a seat on his bed. "I'm afraid I'll have nightmares."

Kensei sighed and placed the weight on the ground next to the chair. Orihime suspected that even if she used both hands and all her strength, she wouldn't be able to lift it even an inch.

"There's nothing to be worried about, Orihime," he replied, a little impatiently. "That creature's not around to try to hurt you anymore. Besides," he said, giving her a pointed look. "You'll always be safe if you stay inside, not wandering around at night by yourself."

"I know that," she said stubbornly. "But there's still something I don't understand."

"What's that?"

"That creature… the one who called himself my brother… he said I was the reason he became like that. In my dream, it only took a second for him to transform into that thing. What if the same thing happens to me? What if I—"

"That won't happen," he said firmly.

"How do you know that?" she demanded. "How do you know I won't wake up one morning, look in the mirror, and see that creature's face instead of mine?"

Even she could sense the fear in that question as soon as it was voiced.

"Look at me, Orihime," Kensei ordered. "That's not going to happen."

"But how do you know?"

He heaved a sigh, and rested his head in one of his hands, his elbow balanced on his leg.

"That creature that you saw—it's called a hollow. They're monsters that prey on the souls of the dead. A person can only become a hollow if they've been devoured by one or if, after they've died, their resentment keeps them from moving on. Neither of which have happened to you."

"But I'm not dead, and it still came after me!" she protested.

"You're right. Hollows are sometimes drawn to humans with a lot of spiritual energy—people who can see ghosts or have special powers." He leaned forward. "Although technically, by the time that hollow was ready to eat you, you technically were dead. That's why you were able to see your body across the room. And also why you were suddenly able to see that hollow, like you said."

So he had been listening earlier after all, it seemed.

"What special powers? And what do you mean, dead?" she demanded. "And besides, I've never seen a ghost before. Shinji told me he thought they weren't even real!"

"Well, Shinji's a liar," Kensei answered matter-of-factly. "Besides, are you really that surprised to find that out after everything that just happened to you?" He looked at her sternly.

"Not really," she admitted sheepishly.

"You were dead because that hollow knocked your soul out of your body." Kensei continued. "And you're alive now because the chain between your spirit and your body was still intact, so you could return to it. As for special powers… it's different for each person."

"Hachi thinks I have powers. Because I can go through his barrier."

"I know that," he said stiffly. He had been there when they found out the first time.

The enormous vizard had spent the better part of the day examining Orihime's cobalt blue barrettes that she frequently wore. When she asked why, he would merely mutter something about spiritual energy, waving the rest of her questions away. When he paused his inspection long enough to inquire if she remembered getting them, she admitted that she did not, though she had a sinking suspicion she knew who had given them to her.

After several hours of discovering nothing, Hachi finally gave up, claiming that if she had powers, they would reveal themselves in their own time. When he returned the barrettes, Orihime accepted them warily, pinning them to her hair a little more carefully than she had before.

Orihime thought for a moment. "So the reason that hollow attacked me was because I have a lot of this "spiritual energy" stuff? Is that why the first hollows came and… and… ate my family all that time ago, because they were looking for me?"

Kensei didn't answer, and Orihime didn't really expect him to. She kept talking.

"So that's why he was so angry, because it was my fault he became like that. It was interesting. When he was talking to me, he seemed almost torn between wanting to protect me and wanting me to answer for my supposed crimes. In the end, it was his anger that won out."

Kensei shook his head. "It wasn't your fault that that happened, and it wasn't his anger that caused him to attack you," he explained reluctantly. He still wasn't sure she was old enough to have this particular conversation, but here they were anyway. "You saw the hole in his chest, didn't you? Every hollow has one. It shows that where its soul should be is only emptiness. Hence the name hollow. It was the desire to fill that emptiness that made him attack you. He would have done it whether he told himself it was your fault or not."

Orihime sat for a moment, taking it in. Then another thought occurred to her.

"Hold on," she said, leaning forward. "What you said earlier about me being dead… you said I was able to finally see the hollow because I was suddenly knocked out of my body or whatever. So how is it that all of you could see it with no problem?"

Kensei was impressed. The girl was bright, brighter than most others her age. Then again, she had seen more.

The dim light cast a shadow under his eyes as he answered. "We're different. Just like you are."

He wasn't ready to tell her that. At least, not yet. But Orihime was already starting to have her suspicions about why they spent so much time training.

"Can I learn one day to see these ghosts?" she asked. "Without having to be dead, of course," she added as an afterthought.

Geez. He hoped not. She had gotten in too deep already, and he had explained too much against his better judgment. He had wanted her to have as much of a normal life as she could (even while living with such an unconventional family), which was why he had told her none of this before, and, if he could manage, would continue to keep her in the dark about everything else as long as possible. Shinji and a few of the others dissented, voicing their opinions during their late-night meetings (which became more frequent the older Orihime became), but, when necessary, Kensei could summon a tenacity to match both Hiyori and that little orange-haired bean. His persistence won out.

But it looked like that was going to change, especially if she really was developing powers of her own.

Orihime stared him down, her expression becoming more and more stern the longer the question remained unanswered. Finally, Kensei stood up and went to his desk, taking something from the drawer.

"Here," he said stiffly, handing the object to her. "I took this from the room. I wasn't sure if you would want it… as a reminder of your family."

The object he was offering to her was the picture frame that had been knocked to the ground, the one that Orihime had looked at to verify the truth of her brother's words. It was the picture of the family who had raised her for two short years of her life.

She examined the faces of the parents who had mistreated her and the brother who had tried to hurt her, then glanced up at Kensei, who was looking at her patiently, eyebrows raised. She handed it back to him.

"I don't want it," she said. "This isn't my family. Not anymore."

It was the best apology she could have given him. He nodded sharply and took the picture back, placing it face down on the desk. He didn't say anything, but as she watched the tension melt from his shoulders, Orihime could tell she was forgiven, just as she knew she would be.

She stood up, getting ready to leave.

"My real name is Inoue, isn't it?" she asked suddenly, her hand on the door knob.

"Are you going to change it?"

"No," she said softly. "I don't think so."

She left, closing the door gently behind her, and went back to bed.