A/N: Things are starting to heat up a bit. :) Enjoy! Also a big thanks to those of you who reviewed, and especially to those of you who review almost every chapter! You guys are the best :)

2:53 p.m.

She had been wearing them when they found her, Hachi had said.

Two little ice-blue snowflakes diverging gracefully into six points. Orihime couldn't remember a time when she hadn't worn them.

When she was little, Mashiro used to help her dress every morning. Orihime stubbornly insisted on picking out her clothes herself, but begrudgingly allowed the woman to assist her in getting them on. Any toddler her age would need help getting their arms through those pesky sleeves. Not to mention the concept of shoe-tying still baffled her.

After she was properly clothed, Mashiro would sit behind her and comb her hair, humming as she ran her fingers through the soft auburn waves. Orihime adored the feeling of fingers gently brushing against her scalp. The vizard would arrange her hair in all kinds of ways, each one looking more ridiculous than the last. She would pile it in a mop on the young girl's head, or fashion too many ponytails sticking out at odd angles, or smother her in multi-colored ribbons that clashed horribly with orange, and proudly present her to the rest of the family. Kensei would sigh and roll his eyes, Lisa would primly turn a page in her magazine, and Shinji would turn a laugh into a cough.

But no matter how her hair was styled, Orihime always insisted on the barrettes and Mashiro would oblige, pinning them on the wriggling toddler carefully.

It should have been no surprise to the orange-haired teenager that her powers would manifest themselves in this way, through something she had always kept so close to her.

But these—birds? Now that was a surprise.

They circled her wildly, appearing to her as fluttering winged creatures, and she could sense their joy and exultation at having been born.

With a shout, she directed them to Uryu's prone form, willing with all her might that he would be safe from the oncoming onslaught that was mere seconds away.

Three of the sprites darted toward the quincy, moving faster than Orihime could follow with her naked eye. They formed a triad and filled the space in between with a glowing light, forming a physical barrier between the two figures. Orihime had half a second to admire its iridescent beauty before it was struck at close range with a powerful blast. The light blinded her and the force of the attack nearly knocked her to the ground.

And then it was over and they were back at her side, thrumming with satisfaction.

"Birds?" she muttered to herself. "Or—butterflies? Paper airplanes?" They were moving too quickly to make out.

As if they had heard her murmurings, they calmed themselves, hovering in the air in front of her. Then they changed form, unfolding themselves to reveal six tiny human-like figures. Orihime blinked at them.

No more than a few centimeters tall, each one was adorned with a pair of delicate wings of different colors and patterns, folded behind them in a way that reminded Orihime of the origami cranes she used to make with Rose.

But that was where the similarities stopped. Each creature couldn't have been more different from the other. One was large and bald, another had an eye patch, and was one of them wearing a blue swimsuit?

"Ah! Not birds—fairies!" Orihime put her hand up to her mouth in surprise.

A fairy wearing a red tunic and sporting a blonde ponytail flew over to her and perched on her shoulder.

"Good reaction! But we're not fairies," he corrected gently. "We are the Shun Shun Rikka, the Six Shielding Flowers, and we are a part of you—a part of your soul. We've always been close to you, but it was your sheer determination and desire to protect that allowed us to be born just now. Well, that, and some help from Ichigo Kurosaki, perhaps."

"Ichigo?" Orihime repeated, her head spinning. She couldn't imagine what he had to do with the tiny creatures floating in front of her.

The ponytailed man leapt off her shoulder and hovered near her face. He wore an encouraging smile. "That's right, Orihime. And now you and he are the only ones who can see us. Well, along with a few others like him who—"

"You talk too much!" There was a dark blur and a yelp from the ponytailed man, and a delinquent-looking sprite with a bandanna covering the lower half of his face was floating in front of her and had fixed her with a piercing glare.

"Listen, woman! It doesn't matter if you understand who we are or where we came from. All you need to understand is how to use us. Look over there!" He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder.

Orihime's gaze shifted behind him to where the dust was settling from the arrancar's attack. Ulquiorra was still standing there, looking as deadly and menacing as ever. He sword was clutched in his hand and he stared right at Orihime. His expressionless face had hardened somehow—was that caution? Or could it be anger?

"You've already used us once Orihime, let us show you how to do it again!" The ponytailed man was back at her side. "Hinagiku, Baigon, and Lily were the ones who made the shield. You recited the kotodama, the incantation, without prompting—that was very good."

Orihime remembered the feeling of their names on her lips.

"Just tell us how you want us to help you, Orihime. We are a part of you, after all."

Orihime's gaze was drawn to Uryu, where he was still slumped on the ground, much too close to the arrancar for comfort. "I want to save Uryu—he's badly hurt. And I want to drive him away!" She returned Ulquiorra's stare.

"Ayame and Shun'o can help your friend," the bandanna man said. "And I, Tsubaki, will take care of that mask-wearing brute!" He flew in a circle around her, trying to make himself look as threatening as possible.

"Say our names! Recite the kotodama!" they chanted.

Orihime steeled herself and summoned the words.

2:50 p.m.

The arrancar and the vizard eyed each other with contempt.

"Would you mind keeping it down?" drawled Shinji. "You're making an awful lot of noise."

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded from where his feet were still half-encased in ice. "A friend of theirs?"

Shinji took in the scene. A partially frozen arrancar, Ichigo pinned to the ground with a sword through his wrist, and another dazed soul reaper slumped near him on the road.

"Do I look like I am?" he responded coolly.

"Who are you then?"

"Does it really matter?"

"No, you're right," Grimmjow said. He leapt forward, shattering the rest of the ice restraining him, and Ichigo cried out as the arrancar's sword was suddenly and violently ripped out of his body. "Because whoever you are, you're dead! I'm going to tear you to shreds!"

He unleashed an attack in the direction of where Shinji was perched. After the smoke cleared, Grimmjow looked up from the section of the roof he had just turned to rubble. The blonde-haired man was now floating several meters above him.

Shinji let out an irritated sigh. "Are you going to destroy a building every time I dodge one of your attacks? If so, I won't be able to dodge—I'll just feel so guilty! Try holding back a bit when you're fighting, would you?"

Grimmjow leapt forward again, taunting the vizard. "Can't move any better than that?!"

Shinji dodged once more and sighed. "He's obviously hotheaded, this one." And he would know hotheaded when he saw it. How many years had he put up with Hiyori?

He brought his right hand up to his face and particles of light gathered to his fingers. He brought it quickly down to his chin and there was a mask there, suddenly, a bit reminiscent of a pharaoh, Ichigo had always thought.

Grimmjow's eyes widened in surprise and their blades met. Shinji pushed him back, then leapt forward to meet him again. They exchanged a few more blows and the arrancar was a bit unnerved to notice how much more force the man was able to put into each stroke.

"That mask you have on," he growled. "You are one of his friends—admit it!"

"Don't make me repeat myself. Does it really matter?" His voice—it reminded him of how Ichigo's had been when he put that strange mask on—the same, but also different. He could clearly make out the vizard's own voice, but there was a strange timbre that vibrated underneath it.

He was cast back again and alarmed to look up and see line of red light forming, stretching out on either side of his opponent.

"It can't be—a cero?!"

He had less than a second to react before he was struck headlong and hurled toward the ground, forming a crater in the road where he fell.

Grimmjow spat blood, cursing the soul reapers and their strange masks. He hated anything he could not understand, and he had never seen a non-hollow discharge a cero. It went against the laws of the world.

He pulled himself up to his feet, gripping his sword tightly and pointed it at the man. He grinned. He would show them a power they had never seen before. He called the words to his lips.

2:55 p.m.

Kensei cursed, glaring at the arrancar in front of him. He received a massive grin in return.

How he had gotten in the middle of this fight, he wasn't sure. It was a nuisance that was keeping him from getting to Orihime.

He could sense her, not far away. Her spiritual pressure had shifted somehow, in a way he had never felt before. And he could tell that others were nearby as well: one benign, though steadily weakening, and the other dark and malevolent and strong.

He had to get to her.

He cursed again. "I don't have time for this! Get out of my way!"

The gigantic arrancar laughed. He was of a size to rival Hachi, though with his white jacket thrown open, Kensei could make out rows of muscles that the gentle over-sized vizard definitely did not have. His mask was nothing more than the bottom jaw of a skull affixed to his own chin.

"There's no need to hurry, I've got all day," he taunted, grinning widely. He launched a sequence of red blasts at the vizard, which were quickly dodged.

Kensei brandished his weapon, an army knife he usually kept sheathed in one of the pockets of his cargo pants.

His opponent sneered. "What're you gonna do, poke me with that little thing?"

Kensei ignored the jibe. He needed to end this quickly. He brought his free hand up to his face, ready to call his mask into existence—

And was interrupted by a burst of crimson light enveloping the arrancar standing in front of him. Suddenly wounded, he howled and dropped to one knee, bringing a hand up to rest over his chest. Kensei could just make out an angry red pectoral behind one of the massive fingers.

He glanced behind him to see who had launched the offending cero. A woman in a school uniform wearing a bone-white mask with a slit in the shape of a cross stood with her arm outstretched. Beside her was a man sprouting a sharp white beak and long blonde locks.

They nodded at him. "Go!" came the eerie double-voice he was so used to hearing.

He didn't need to be told twice.