Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or its characters.
A.N.: Since you asked for it, here's another chapter. Thanks for the reviews! I'll keep your requests in mind, as I haven't yet decided where this fic will go.
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Orihime awoke in a daze, surprised to look up and a find a bright blue sky overhead; although she couldn't remember why such a thing should strike her as unusual. She was also dismayed to find her body weak and in incredible pain. As she slowly struggled to lift herself from the ground, she noticed something wet pooling around her in the dust, and assumed from the way she was feeling that it must be her blood.
"Happy birthday!" said a cheerful voice behind her. Orihime twisted her neck around in surprise--a move that earned her another jolt of pain--and saw a young boy wearing a worn tunic and leather sandals standing only a few feet away. Drops of what she hoped was water still fell from the wooden bucket he held loosely in one hand. The proud smile on his face showed not the least bit of remorse for having just emptied said bucket over her while she slept.
"Aww, Riku got to her first!" said another child, sounding out of breath as he struggled to carry a second bucket without spilling its contents. A few other children appeared seemingly out of thin air, and Orihime suppressed the rising urge to flee as she found herself suddenly surrounded by so many unfamiliar faces. They're only children, she tried reasoning to herself, although there was an aged look in their eyes that was very out of place in ones so young.
"E-excuse me, but can you tell me where I am, and what's going on?"
The first boy nodded knowingly, as if expecting her reaction. "The hell butterfly just brought you here a minute ago, and we all raced to see who would be the first to wish you happy birthday." As he said this, he made the motion of emptying the bucket on her.
Orihime suspected that she still looked confused, as one of the girls noticed her expression and giggled, then quickly explained, "It's the traditional way to welcome people when they're reborn into the Soul Society. The water is supposed to wash away your old life."
"And wake you up," added the smiling boy.
Orihime sighed as she suddenly remembered flashes of her last moments alive: Ichigo and the others fighting Ulquiorra--or was it Aizen?--while enemies surrounded them on all sides. One of her hairpins--now forever empty of its petals--tinkling faintly as it bounced lightly against the ground. Uryuu and Rukia comforting her as she stared blankly at her severed soul chain.
"No..." she whispered in denial, clenching her fists. "It's not my birthday. It's my deathday."
The grin finally left the boy's face. "You shouldn't think of it like that," he advised her solemnly. "This is a chance for a fresh start. Plus life is better on this side. You don't have to worry about food or finding a place to sleep. You can do whatever you feel like, and as long as you're not bothering anybody, they let you get away with anything."
"This isn't as bad as some districts," remarked the second boy. "The rich folk hire guards, so people usually go elsewhere if they want to cause trouble."
"I- I'm sorry, but can I please be alone? This is too much...too much for me to deal with right now."
The children exchanged glum looks, then nodded and skittered off.
That was foolish of me, she realized as she found herself alone in the middle of the street. They may be my only friends in this world, and I've just sent them away.
"That was very foolish of her," grumbled Hinagiku disapprovingly. "We still need information, and now we have no one to ask."
Baigon gave him a stern look. "Give her a little time to collect herself," he rumbled in his usual deep voice. "It isn't an easy thing, finding out you've died."
"No, nothing fun--or funny--about it at all," said Lily sadly, plopping herself onto a rose petal with a disheartening sigh. "Poor Orihime."
"Yes yes, what happened is very sad," acknowledged the one-eyed fairy with a grimace. "But we can't afford to let our guard down. This is the Soul Society," he emphasized, making sure he had their attention. "You remember how dangerous people are around here. Uncivilized ruffians and pig-riding brutes, and let's not forget the maniacs with swords who we ran into on our last visit."
"But those were our friends!" cried Baigon in surprise.
"Even more reason to be worried. Can you imagine what our enemies might be like?"
Lily pouted. "You're acting all strict and mean, Hinagiku. It's like you're trying to be the leader, now that Ayame is gone."
The tall Shun Shun Rikka crossed his arms defiantly, as if daring them to challenge him. "Well, someone needs to be in charge. If Baigon had his way, Orihime would probably stay locked up in a room somewhere for the rest of her life, safe from harm, only to starve to death. And if you were the one controlling Orihime-" he added, pointing an accusatory finger at the female, "she would live in constant denial of reality and the danger she's in. She'd likely say or do something stupid in front of the wrong person and get herself killed."
Lily looked furious. "I bet you're happy Ayame, Tsubaki and Shin'ou got killed, aren't you?" she said, seething. "Maybe you even had something to do with it-"
Lily flinched as Hinagiku threw back his arm and made as if to strike her, but at the last moment, he found his hand caught in Baigon's vice-like grip.
"You're right about me," the stocky fairy said, maintaining his hold. "My main concern is protecting Orihime at all costs. But you forget, Hinagiku, that Lily is a part of Orihime's spirit, just as you are, and I will not allow you to harm her."
Hinagiku tried unsuccessfully to free himself, then at last nodded acceptance to Baigon, who finally let him go.
"You should remember that I argued against their plan to destroy the orb," he growled, massaging his wrist. "What happened to them was their own damn fault."
Then, as if in response to their sullen moods, the sky inside Orihime's soul began to rain.
Orihime couldn't stop the tears from falling. She noticed people staring at her when they thought she wasn't looking, but no one else approached and offered to help her. It was probably a common enough sight in the land of the dead, and they all had their own reasons to feel miserable.
She fled into an alley and collapsed against a mud-brick wall. Her choking sobs continued until she had nothing left inside her and she was too exhausted to make a sound.
Dusk darkened into night, but Orihime was barely aware of her surroundings. As the children had said, she hardly felt the need for sleep. Unfortunately, hunger was a call her body hadn't forgotten, and as the days passed, she found herself unable to think about anything else. After a week, she finally stumbled out of the alley in search of food.
She soon learned that in heaven, like the real world, nothing was free. The vendors cast her wary looks, and when she reached out to simply to touch a piece of fruit, they swatted her hands away and demanded to see her money. She almost fled back into the alley after the first time, but strangely, she found herself no longer as easily intimidated as she used to be. It was an odd feeling--exposing herself to potential danger and no longer caring what might happen to her. Oh, she recognized well enough what the risks were when she snuck behind an apple stand and swiped a pair when the owner wasn't looking. Even if she hadn't witnessed the consequences the very next day, when a youth was caught for a similar theft and hauled away in chains, in her mind she had no trouble imagining multiple scenarios--some involving killer robots or sword-wielding aliens--warning her what might happen. It wasn't just that she didn't care about herself, but she no longer seemed to care about anything. All of the feelings she used to keep bundled inside her had been released when she cried her heart and soul out in that alley. Or maybe that part of herself had simply washed away with that first bucketful of water.
Her near-suicidal raids on the market vendors were not done out of courage, either. Once, she might have done something equally daring if she thought it was worth the risk, especially if she felt convinced it was the right thing to do. She knew that she used to have a store of courage inside her that she could draw on at need to help her fight back. Used to... She stole food now because it was the only way to stay alive, not because she had something to prove. Now, if danger threatened her, she wouldn't hesitate to run. Her sense of self-preservation had grown stronger than her sense of justice.
It wasn't just her fighting spirit or her ability to feel emotion that had been lost, either. More than anything, what Orihime missed was her determination; her sense of purpose. In the past, there had always been a little voice inside her head that helped guide her decisions, convincing her that she was doing the right thing. Now that voice was silent, and Orihime felt lost. The cold logic that she faced each morning as she outlined what she would need to pilfer just to continue surviving in the Rukongai was a poor substitute for the pride and joy she used to feel when she had accomplished something worthwhile.
Was mere survival enough of a reason to go on? A part of her seemed to think so, because no matter how many times she considered it, she couldn't seem to give up on herself.
Maybe the problem was simply that she no longer had any friends who depended on her, or who she could depend on. She used to have friends--she remembered that much--but as the days passed, she forgot more and more of her old life. Sometimes she wondered if those memories were even real, or just one of her odd imaginings.
Then one day, she happened to draw the attention of a tailor as she passed in front of her shop. The woman called out to Orihime to stop, and asked to see her white dress.
"My dear, where did you get this material?" As she knelt to examine it closer, she remarked, "It is as fine as the silk the Shinigami use for their uniforms, yet I have never seen a thread with such shine."
Orihime had no information to give her, although it wasn't the first time someone had noted the rich quality of her dress. It was one reason some vendors trusted her enough to let her get near their stalls, not expecting someone as wealthy as she pretended to be to need to resort to stealing. Unfortunately, it also made her very recognizable, and she feared that guards might soon be given a description of her dress and be on the lookout for it.
"I'll sell it to you if you'd like," Orihime offered quickly, seeing a solution to both her money problems and her risk of being recognized. The tailor seemed shocked that she would be willing to part with it. That made Orihime hesitate a little herself; the strange material had done a good job keeping her warm at night, despite the cold. Yet she often felt strangely uneasy whenever she looked down at her dress, as if it stirred dark memories from her past.
The storekeeper studied her carefully, as if trying to decide whether Orihime could be fooled into selling it cheaply. "I'll give you fifty silvers for it," she finally said.
Orihime opened her mouth in surprise--it was far more than she would have expected. The tailor must have thought she was ready to protest instead, and hastened to add, "I'd give you more, but I expect you'll need new clothes to change into since you'll be handing me yours. The fifty is what's left after I deduct for them--everything we sell is of the finest quality, of course."
Orihime was shown a selection of apparel, and while she longed to try the beautiful dresses and high-heeled shoes, she knew that she should instead choose something practical for keeping herself warm and able to move freely. She finally settled on navy-blue robes and a comfortable pair of dark leather boots. She was awed by the weight of the coins the tailor handed her, and tried to calculate how much food it would buy her.
"I can't tell you how pleased I am to have a chance to study this thread," the tailor confided. "There's a pair of men I've spotted on occasion who wear robes very similar to this, but I confess I've never had the courage to ask them where they got it."
Orihime looked up from her coins to stare at the woman, who at the same time, seemed to have realized the significance of her words.
"Oh! Maybe you know each other?"
Orihime thought immediately about the friends she remembered having in the past. Were these them? Would she be able to recognize the men if she saw them? Would they recognize her?
"Please, do you think you could show me where you saw them?" Orihime asked her, growing excited. The tailor grinned delightedly, for the excitement was contagious.
"It's so rare to rediscover the people you once knew in life. I would love to help you get reunited with your family."