She was facing him fully now, allowing him to see her whole features.

Blue veins were visible under the thin sheet of paper-white skin, giving her a faint blue complexion. Her eyes were so brown, an otherworldly honey color, accentuated by golden flecks dotting the irises of her eyes. Blue hairpins clipped her long bangs to the side but a few locks had escaped and hung freely over her cheeks. Against the pale backdrop of snow and pine trees, her long caramel hair seemed out of place.

"Are you okay? You look pale."

The sound of her voice sent a violent shiver down his spine, causing his heart to pound. A weird sensation chilled his blood, but oddly, it was thick with something akin to… pleasure. This reaction startled him; he was a difficult person to charm, but with a simple sentence, his reaction was immediate. But this woman shared the same face and same name with the person he was 'obsessing over' – as aptly stated by Urahara – so it should not be surprising.

"Excuse me, are you okay?" She repeated, sounding genuinely concerned.

Ichigo cleared his throat. "I'm fine." Hell no. He swallowed. "Who are you?"

"You mentioned my name. I'm Orihime."

Coincidence. He told himself. This is just one fucked up coincidence. Was he dreaming? Was he having another nightmare while he was awake? With dread, he recognized the similarity of his current situation with one of his many dreams: the snow, the white dress, the woman herself. The only difference was that she was facing him.

The girl frowned slightly, obviously worried. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't look so well… Maybe you need to sit down?" She gestured to her left; there was a stone bench nearby. The view from that vantage point was excellent, providing an unobstructed view of the frozen lake and its surrounding trees. The girl gestured again for him to sit down. When he did not move, she took his forearm and led him to the bench. Ichigo let her, still dazed with confusion.

They sat down next to each other. "Did I frighten you?"

Ichigo blinked and turned to at her. She was staring at the frozen lake, and she looked unaffected by the chill of the weather despite her lack of warmer clothing. She turned her head to look at him, their eyes meeting with an intense impact.

It was unmistakably her. He knew those eyes.

Again, he swallowed and looked down at her bare feet instead, finding her gaze too strong. Her ankles were slender. "You're not wearing any shoes."

"Oh." She dug her feet under the snow. "I love the snow. I want to feel them better!"

"But it's cold. And you're not wearing a coat. You might get sick."

She smiled at him. "Thank you for your concern but I have a strong immune system." She kicked at the snow playfully. Ichigo was still unconvinced but he chose to let the matter slide. "Do you feel better now?" He looked at her and found her peering up at him worriedly.

No, he wanted to say. "I do. Thanks." He said instead. He glanced over at the frozen lake. He could feel her stare and he found it uncomfortable. Startling her, he turned his head and met her wide-eyed gaze.

"What?" He asked. The girl blinked, retreating back, smiling sheepishly.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You…" She licked her lips, her lashes lowering over her eyes.

Ichigo found himself entranced at the sight of her lips. They were red with a pouty bottom lip. The Orihime in his book had the same perfect, sensual mouth. Her lashes lifted, revealing her doe eyes, meeting his half-lidded gaze. They were wide and unblinking, with an unusual depth in them. They pulled him in, and Ichigo felt an incredibly strong magnetism, so strong that it shook him all over. He felt the rest of the world fade away, the sounds dulled until there was nothing but eerie silence.

His hands itched to touch her face, her lips.

"I have to go."

Ichigo blinked and he realized, his heart was beating so fast and his skin was hot. He licked his dry lips, trying to calm the beat of his heart and the frantic rush of his blood.

The girl stood up, her long, dark-red hair seemed to float around her, drowning her pale face. She took a few steps forward. At her fifth step, she paused and looked at him over her shoulder. She smiled. "It was nice meeting you."

"Yeah…" Ichigo continued to watch her intently under his hooded lids.

She returned his stare, blinked slowly and smiled again, dazzling him. "I hope to see you soon, Kurosaki-kun." After another smile, she walked away.

It was only when he was alone when he realized he never gave her his name.

:

Ichigo was looking up to the portrait when Nanao Ise appeared soundlessly from a corner. She stopped and observed him.

"Who is this woman?" he asked.

When the receptionist did not answer, Ichigo glanced over at her; the woman looked surprised. She looked as if she did not expect him to address or sense her presence. He cocked an eyebrow inquiringly. An odd, intrigued look flitted over her sharp features, eyes narrowed as though she was examining an out of this world specimen. The crease on Ichigo's forehead deepened; why was she looking at him like that? Did he say something weird, do something strange?

He watched Nanao rearrange her expression and she asked, "May I inquire why do you want to know?"

Ichigo chose his next words. He could not tell her who he saw. It would sound weird. Moreover, his guts told him not to trust this woman even with the slightest things. He'd have to be careful and pretend obliviousness.

"I'm curious."

Nanao's expression did not change as she studied his face. "This portrait is 237 years old, Kurosaki-san." She said carefully, slowly.

His eyes rounded. "237!"

"Yes. This painting was bought by the owner of Las Anochecerr in an auction in Paris two years ago. This was the most expensive painting ever auctioned that year. The painter, however, was unidentified."

"But…" He frowned. "Do you know who she is?"

Her lips thinned before she replied, "A random muse, I believe."

Random? No shit.

Ichigo stared up to the painting. The woman he met today and the woman in the painting looked exactly the same. They even wore the same hairpins. They had the same hair color, same eye color, same body built, and same perfect lips.

What is going on here?

"You are not the first human who expressed his interest in the woman in this painting. She is quite lovely, isn't she?"

"Yeah… She is." This was the second time he heard the word 'human' with the same distant tone. The first person who uttered the word with the same tone albeit with distaste was the blue-haired man he met during his first day. "I'm sure the other guests find her attractive as well." He added with a shrug.

Nanao did not reply right away. Ichigo turned to her curiously. Her expression had not changed a bit, and he found it peculiar.

"You are the only guest here, Kurosaki-san."

His eyes widened.

"Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes. Please don't be late." Nanao bowed and left.