The next chapter is here! This is where the flashbacks begin.

Thank you all for the feedback, and for adding this to your alerts/favorites. It means a lot, and I hope this story continues to please. So again, thank you :)

I attempted to stay true to the semester system of Japan when it concerns Universities and Colleges, but seeing as it is different from mine, I may have botched it. My apologies if there are any mistakes.

Disclaimer: I own only OCs and the plot.

Chapter 2

March 11, 2011

Sendai, Miyagi Prefecture, Japan

5:12 pm

Ichigo rubbed his temple once more as he listened to the ranting of his father on the other line, weaving through the other pedestrians walking along the sidewalk he currently navigated. You would think it was his first time being away from home with the way his old man talked. Every conversation was twenty-questions. Did he do this? Did he do that? Though technically it was the farthest he has gone, he had been in college for five years now, finishing his undergraduate degree and now pursuing a degree in architecture at the University of Tokyo. He had just completed his first year in grad school, and he was taking a much needed break to travel a little bit. He was experienced in taking care of himself, not that Isshin really understood that. The way he talked to him or about him, you'd think Ichigo was around the age of ten, not twenty-three.

"You've checked into the hotel?" Isshin asked, probably the tenth time that question had left his lips. It was all Ichigo could do not to answer with a smart-ass response.

"Yes." That had been a lot easier than he had thought it would be. It wasn't the nicest hotel, but he didn't plan on spending all of his time there, so it didn't matter. The shower had hot water and the bed as comfortable enough, so he would be fine.

"They didn't give you any trouble?"

"No, it went fine. Piece of cake," Ichigo assured him.

"And you made sure you had everything from the airport?"

"I wouldn't have left if I didn't have all of my stuff," Ichigo muttered with an eye roll. What a stupid question. Honestly, it was as if his dad thought he was still in high school or something.

"You'd be surprised how easy it can be for luggage to be misplaced," Isshin countered, which earned a muttered agreement from Ichigo.

"Even so, I've got everything."

"Are you sure you don't need to rent a car? You'll be there for a week." Isshin's voice changed in an instant, and Ichigo groaned at what he knew was to come. "Oh Masaki! Our baby boy has grown!" He could imagine his father now, plastered against the memorial poster of his late mother. He didn't know why his dad seemed to insist on acting like a child in certain situations, but he had grown use to it. The best way to counter it was always with violence, but since he was nowhere near the man he would have to rely on threats.

"I will hang up on you if you don't shut up," Ichigo warned, sidestepping a couple as he walked down the street. "And no, I don't need a car. I prefer to walk." It saved time and money, and he had long been used to walking everywhere from his days in school. He admitted he didn't know the streets here well enough to navigate without a map, but he was a quick learner. He would pick up the layout in no time at all.

He had just landed in Sendai two hours ago and was already out exploring. He only had a week, and he wasn't going to waste it away in a small hotel room watching mindless television. It was never in his nature to sit still, always moving and discovering new places and things. Already he had seen quite a bit of the city, but he was still looking for one certain spot that had been a key reason for him picking this particular city to visit.

"You're so mean to your papa," Isshin protested, before chuckling. "But fine. Just call me sometime and check in, will ya? Man or not, you're still a long way from home."

"I will," Ichigo promised, smiling a little at the words. He knew that his dad just worried. Though it could be annoying, he did appreciate the support system he had at home, even if it could be overbearing at times. He would make sure to call so Isshin didn't have to fret about his eldest son. Otherwise, he knew Isshin would hunt him down to make sure he was still alive. "But I'm about to get to the Mediatheque, so I have to go. Tell Yuzu and Karin I said hello."

"I will be sure to tell them. Bye Son."

"Bye Dad." The phone call ended, and Ichigo tucked the devise into his jean pocket, coming to a stop in front of his destination. He whistled lowly as he looked up at the building in front of him, not really caring if he was blocking the sidewalk or not. He imagined it was a tourist thing to do, walking around with your face turned upwards to look at the buildings, but if his admiration of the building was a bother, those people would have to get over it. He received a few glares, but they went unnoticed.

The Sendai Mediatheque was a structure worthy of recognition. Toyo Ito, the man who had designed the library/art center, was a genius and as an architecture student, Ichigo had nearly jumped at the chance to go and visit the building.

The sun shone off of the glass walls that rose into the sky, and he could see the famous tubes as he looked through the windows, the spiraling design standing out even from outside. But it wasn't just the design that was intriguing. The building had everything from a library to an art gallery to a theatre to a café and bookstore, making it a popular tourist spot. Ichigo had only ever seen it in pictures, magazines and articles that his professors had shown or assigned for assignments. Looking at it now, those pictures didn't do the building justice. It was a work of art, and Ichigo was excited to go in and take a look around, wanting to commit every inch of the building to his memory.

Even with the tiresome flight, Ichigo had not been able to wait any longer to see the building. He knew it would not be the last time he visited the building during his trip, as it was too much ground to cover in one afternoon, but even as he set out on foot it seemed he was drawn to the building. He could spare a few hours today to explore the building, vowing to see the other tourist spots later in the week.

With a smile, he set off towards the entrance.

X

5:30 pm

"Orihime…Orihime, snap out of it!"

The buxom girl awoke from the daze she had been in, blinking furiously in an attempt to make her eyes focus. She looked up from her desk, seeing her friend Tatsuki, clad in black slacks and a white blouse, standing by her side. The girl raised an eyebrow at her friend, cocking her hip to the side. Orihime's face broke into a wide smile at the sight of her friend.

"Oh, hello Tatsuki."

"You were pretty zoned out there," the dark-haired girl commented, sitting on the corner of the desk and peering at the computer screen in front of the orange-haired girl. She sneered at the excel spreadsheet displayed, her nose scrunching in disgust. "Not that I can blame you. This looks miserable."

Orihime chuckled, looking back towards the computer. "It really is not as complicated as it seems." The lists of people, dates, item numbers, and monetary values were neatly organized in the spreadsheet, rows and columns of information all there in black and white.

"What are you even doing?" she asked, glancing to where Orihime had a box of folders set by the foot of her desk.

"It is my latest assignment as an intern. I'm sorting through the records of the art gallery to make a single list of all of the donors, artists, and buyers." To emphasize the point, Orihime tapped the cardboard box with her foot. "This is the old system, and they wanted me to convert it to a computer file to make it easier to sort through."

Tatsuki's sneer only grew as Orihime explained her work. "Yuck."

"It really isn't that bad," the cheerful girl insisted, adjusting her hair pin. "I've made a game out of it."

"I'm almost scared to ask what that game is," Tatsuki laughed, standing back up to give the girl some room to stand. She knew Orihime had a wild imagination, which probably is what had her losing focus in the first place. She had long ago stopped trying to ask the girl to explain her thoughts, but had just accepted them as they are. It was better that way. Fewer headaches.

"It passes the time," Orihime commented with a smile. "Really, I've just split the different categories into different teams and given a point for each addition to the spreadsheet."

"Who's in the lead?" Tatsuki asked, humoring the girl.

Orihime picked up the yellow note pad situated by her side, finger tracing the tally marks scratched underneath designated teams as she added the numbers in her head. "The Artistic Aggression," she said with a laugh, "So the artists at the moment. Though The Devilish Donations and The Bruising Buyers are not that far behind. It may be a close game yet."

Tatsuki shook her head with a snort, rolling her eyes at the assigned names. "And I thought my job was bad with organizing the new books in alphabetical order. Anyways, are you still planning on coming to eat tonight?"

"Yes, of course," Orihime confirmed with a nod.

"Well it is after five thirty," Tatsuki pointed out, causing Orihime to blink in surprise.

"Oh, I must have gotten sidetracked," Orihime commented, sparing a glance at the clock. She had zoned out longer than she thought. Though the Mediatheque gallery remained open until eight at night, she was only required to stay from the gallery opening at ten in the morning until five in the afternoon. Though the building was popular, there was only so much an intern could do with limited training and experience. Really, the internship was mostly desk work, stuff no one else particularly wanted to do, but she was happy for the opportunity. Her professors had really done her a huge favor in getting this internship for her, fresh out of her undergraduate years and applying to graduate school in art history in the coming year. This internship would give her some experience and hopefully set her out above the other applicants, and she didn't want to let her professors down.

Tatsuki was one of the other interns, though she worked in the library section. She had met her on her first day, and they had become fast friends. The dark-haired girl was from the area, and she took it upon herself to show Orihime around, help her get a handle on Sendai. Seeing as it was Friday, she would have dinner at Tatsuki's house, a growing tradition for the two of them.

As she grabbed her purse, she caught sight of a stack of folders left forgotten on the file cabinet. A small sigh escaped her lips, and she reached for the documents. "Go on ahead Tatsuki and I'll catch up. I have to deliver these folders to the office before I can leave." She was supposed to have delivered them on her lunch break, but she had gotten distracted. Again.

Tatsuki nodded in understanding as she moved to the door. "I'll see you at my place then. Don't let that woman push you around, got it?" the girl commented, giving her a pointed look.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Sure you don't," the dark-haired girl muttered with a shake of her head. "Say the word and I'll take care of it."

"I will see you later, Tatsuki," Orihime said with a laugh, shooing the girl out of the office with a wave of her hand. Her friend complied with a grin, ducking out and heading towards the exit.

Orihime collected her stuff, fumbling with her purse as she pulled her grey jacket on. She spared the desk one last look before heading out. It wouldn't take long to run these to the office, and thankfully the elevators were situated next to them, but she knew Tatsuki's worry of her being pushed around was a real concern. She could almost feel the impending lecture about promptness that the lady at the desk would give her. She was an older lady, one who didn't seem to have any desire to cut the young intern any slack, and she didn't like Orihime at all. She had tried to be nice when she first arrived, asking the woman to go with her to lunch and trying to engage in polite small talk to no avail. This woman, whom Orihime didn't even know the name of since she wore no name tag and hadn't bothered introducing herself, was a terror on high heels.

She quickened her pace, wanting to get this over with. The sooner she turned these in, the sooner she could go eat and forget about this woman.

Unfortunately for her, turning those files in would prove harder than she thought. As she neared the offices, the lady in question was already waiting, leaning against the elevator in her black dress-suit. She knew what time Orihime would leave, probably made a point to write it on one of the thousands of sticky notes that hung around her cubicle, and it seemed she anticipated her departure as it meant she could rip into her once more. With a sigh, Orihime forced herself to smile. Surely she couldn't yell at a cheerful person.

"Hello," she greeted as politely as she could.

"There you are Orihime. Where have you been?" the woman asked, her voice dropping to a deeper tone in her annoyance. "I've been waiting for those folders all day."

She did her best to smile, tucking her hair behind her ear as she chuckled nervously. She was always nervous around this woman. She doubted she would ever truly get used to her. There was just something that made her intimidating. Perhaps the never-ending frown.

"I'm sorry. I was sidetracked with organizing the records, and turning these in just slipped my mind. I apologize for the delay."

"Well hurry up and bring them here," the woman snapped, holding out a manicured hand for the documents as if it was the most boring thing she had ever done. Even in body language, the girl could feel this woman's condescending attitude.

Orihime walked faster, wanting to obey the woman's wishes and get out of there. In her haste, her flat dress shoe slipped on the tiled floor, and she stumbled. She was clumsy, always had been, but she felt her face heat up at showing this side of her in front of this woman who seemed to always look for a reason to call Orihime worthless.

What made matters worse was that the slip served to dislodge the folders from her arms, and the papers spilled onto the floor like water, sliding out in every direction. Orihime gasped, a hand flying up to cover her face in embarrassment as she crouched down, immediately starting to pick up the papers as quickly as she could.

"I am so sorry," she said hurriedly, reaching for page after page and cursing her luck as the other woman began to rant.

So much for getting out of there quickly.

X

5:38 pm

Ichigo had intended to start with the library, but had somehow found himself looking in the art gallery. It's not that he was against going to the art gallery first. He was an architecture student, after all. Art was a very close friend of architects. She had to have basic skills to sketch and design buildings the way he wanted to, so it wasn't that he found the gallery boring. It was more like he was tugged there. He had seen the sign, and on impulse came to this floor. He didn't question his feet, allowing them to carry him through the space as they pleased, and he was not disappointed with the art he saw.

There were not many people here, though he guessed it was common for a Friday afternoon. He figured more people would come on a Saturday or Sunday instead of coming to the building after a day of working. Either way, he was happy for the lack of the crowd. This way he could take his time.

He moved through the gallery space slowly, his light zip up jacket draped over one arm as he moved this way and that, pausing to take in the different pieces that caught his interest. He didn't know many of the artists that were listed on the small tags next to the art, but that didn't matter. There were all types of styles, from the traditional to the contemporary. Personally, he gravitated towards the more intricate and precise pieces, ones that looked thoroughly planned out and with clean, sharp lines, but he also enjoyed the vibrant abstract ones and the softer, more trained hand of traditional portraits. He wasn't too picky when it came to art, able to appreciate it all.

Eventually he was broken from his thoughts with a growl from his stomach, a loud protest at the lack of food he had eaten today. He had a quick lunch once he had left the airport, but it was less than he was used to eating, and it seemed his stomach had taken notice of this.

Glancing at his watch, he saw it was nearly twenty 'til six, meaning he had only been here for around thirty minutes. It was less than he meant to spend, but as his stomach roared once again, gathering the attention of the handful of other people looking through the otherwise quiet gallery, he decided it was time to leave. He could grab some food on the way back to the hotel.

He could always come back tomorrow, though he dreaded the thought of dealing with all of those people. Ichigo was not a fan of crowds. He had friends back home and in school, but large groups of people was just not his cup of tea, especially when he would be trying to take his time in exploring the building. Nevertheless, it couldn't be helped, and he would put up with it. He lamented not being able to stay, but he knew he would be back soon to continue his exploration.

As he headed towards the elevator, pulling his jacket on while he walked, something caught his attention. Or rather, a color caught his attention. Orange. A girl somewhere around his age stood by the main office area. The girl's hair was a bright orange, nearly the same color as his, and he absent-mindedly reached up to tough his own hair. Strange. He had never seen another person with his color of hair. He had always gotten picked on it throughout school, standing out like a sore thumb amongst the other students, bullied and looked down upon for something he had no control over, so running into another with the unique color was a surprise.

Though she wasn't looking at him, he could read from her body language that she was not comfortable. Then again, she was kneeling on the tile floor. Her shoulders were hunched forward, bent down to pick up a sea papers that littered the ground around her. She fumbled with the pages, obviously nervous, and Ichigo's eyes went to the only other person in the area. The lady stood next to her, much older than her coworker on the floor. She looked down her nose and past a pair of glasses perched there, a frown marring her features as she spoke in a harsh tone. She tapped her foot impatiently as the younger of the two hurriedly tried to sort the papers out and stuff them into different folders.

He could only imagine that the girl was being criticized for dropping the folders. It must be very important paperwork for her to be talked to like that. He couldn't hear the words said from where he was currently standing, but he could hear the tone well enough to recognize it as one of disapproval.

It was none of his business. He was a bystander, a tourist at that, and he had no reason to pay any attention. The elevators were just beyond the pair, and he intended to keep walking towards his destination, but he found that the voice of the older woman stopped him. Neither seemed to notice the man as he neared, and Ichigo did nothing to alert them to his presence for the time being. He wanted to see why the older one was sneering so openly at the other girl.

"Can you not do anything right?" the woman complained, shaking her head condescendingly. "It's like you don't have a single thought in your head."

The younger girl remained quiet, but Ichigo caught the way she flinched at the words. He couldn't stop his mouth from turning downwards, his face contorted with a small frown. Those were harsh words for someone frantically trying to pick those papers up. If the other woman noticed her discomfort, she didn't care, as she continued the verbal assault as she examined her nails.

"I told the head of the department that we had no need for an intern, especially one that is as incompetent as you. These documents were supposed to be here at noon, and all you can say is that you forgot?"

"I'm sorry," the younger girl said softly, and Ichigo could hear the way her voice faulted. It was obviously not the first time she had said those words today, and Ichigo figured it would be said a few more times before the older woman was done with her.

"Don't start," the woman snapped, shaking her head. "You could have avoided this situation if you paid more attention."

"I'm sorry," the girl repeated, hiding further behind the hair that had fallen into her face. Ichigo felt a tug on his heart at the sight. She was obviously remorseful, and though that didn't necessarily excuse her mistake, it certainly didn't earn her the right to be raked over the coals by this other lady who wouldn't even help her pick the documents up.

"I swear every year the interns get worse and worse." About the time those words left her lips, he had decided he had heard enough. The words were not constructive. They were mean and insulting, and he could feel all of the hurt he had felt over the years at getting bullied for no good reason surge forward once more. He was not one to stand by when a person needed help.

He cleared his throat as he stepped forward, watching as both of the women looked towards him. The girl's eyes widened noticeably as she caught sight of him. As he approached, she went back to her collecting, her pace increasing at the idea of another person witnessing her mistake. The woman standing beside her seemed much less impressed, if the narrowed glance at his hair was any indication.

"Can I help you sir?" Somehow, he doubted she really cared what he wanted. He knew what she was thinking. He had been considered a delinquent on many occasions, given the color of his hair, and he could practically feel this lady judging him. Her arms crossed over her chest defensively at the intrusion, her lips pressing into a thin line of displeasure.

"No, I was just offering my assistance," he spoke firmly, knowing that he had interrupted a rather delicate situation. The girl collecting papers on the floor had averted her gaze, though the blush had been clear enough even as she shrunk into herself. She was probably embarrassed, and who wouldn't be in her position? She was practically being scolded in front of the whole floor, and the other woman did nothing but make it worse standing there, ranting away.

"You don't need to trouble yourself," the older woman protested sharply, shaking her head.

"It's no trouble at all," he countered, giving the woman a smile that could be considered polite by those who did not know him. For those who did know him, they knew it was a sarcastic expression, but what this lady didn't know would hurt her.

"Surely she is competent enough to pick up the papers she dropped," the woman continued. The girl in question ducked her head even further at the insult, and Ichigo felt his frown deepen at the sight. The fact that this woman showed her lack of respect for the younger girl, while speaking to a visitor at that, bothered him more than it should have.

"Look, lady, I'm just trying to help her out. It's called manners. I won't just stand here watching her struggle with them," he said with a pointed look in the older woman's direction, making it clear that he was referring to what she had been doing when he walked by. The older lady seemed taken aback by the words, probably not used to someone standing up to her, but Ichigo ignored her as he squatted down next the other. His hand reached out to start gathering the papers in front of him.

"Sir," the woman began, but he cut her off with a hard stare.

"I think we can handle it from here," he stated calmly but without an opening for her to argue, glancing at the girl who still refused to look up.

With a sigh, the woman gave up. "Be sure to put them in my folder when you've got them sorted," she muttered, pointing to the plastic containers on the wall as she spoke to the girl before turning on her heel and walking away.

A moment passed where neither Ichigo nor the girl spoke, simply gathering the papers that had been dropped. Ichigo didn't know where each page went, but he still felt the need to help. If he had kept walking, who knows how far the lady would have gone. As the pile on the floor lessened, the girl finally spoke.

"Thank you," she said softly, looking up very briefly to meet his gaze before looking back down. "But you didn't have to do that," she added as an afterthought.

"It's no problem. It looked like you needed some help," Ichigo responded, looking in the direction the other woman had gone. He had to admit, it was a little easier to breathe without her around. "And it didn't look like that other woman was going to pitch in any time soon."

"She's probably just stressed out," the girl mused, tucking a strand of orange hair behind her ear. It seemed to be a nervous habit of hers, as she had done it a few times already in the time Ichigo had been here.

"She was being rude," he mumbled.

"That's how she always is."

"Well, you shouldn't let her talk to her like that." It irritated him how the woman had been bullying the younger girl. Even if she had been late with turning in those folders, she could have handled it better. "No one deserves that dragon lady breathing down their neck."

The girl laughed lightly at that, and Ichigo found he rather enjoyed the sound. It suited her more than the timid voice she had used with the woman. He handed the stack of paper he had collected over to her, and she looked up as she took it, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were bright, and she smiled kindly at him as she took the offered papers.

They both stood, Ichigo tucking his hands in his pockets as the girl sorted the different papers into their appropriate folders. His eyes couldn't help but trace her features. Soft, feminine planes of the face that still held onto a more youthful appearance met his gaze, though she was certainly not a child. Her hair hung down to the middle of her back, bangs brushed aside and held by flower hair pins, matching the color of her knee-length skirt. The white collar of her button up blouse peeked from underneath a grey cardigan. Being the hormonal young man he was, he couldn't help but notice her figure and curves, but his father had raised him to be a gentleman and he quickly averted his gaze, hoping she wouldn't catch the small blush that had spread across his cheeks at the thought of her catching where his eyes had looked. She was beautiful, seemed to be a genuinely kind girl, and Ichigo found that he wanted to know more about her.

The woman had called her an intern, and he felt the need to question her about what she did in the building he admired so much. Perhaps she was a student from around here and could show him the city. Or maybe she could at least give him a proper tour of the building. It would be a great help to have someone who knew what was going on around here helping him navigate. Maybe not today, since he was leaving as it was, but possibly within the coming week.

When she had it all sorted, she placed them in the container on the wall that the woman had indicated and sighed in relief, happy that it was finally turned in. She turned back, smoothing the folds in her skirt where the material had wrinkled from picking up the papers. "Thank you, again…" She trailed off, her nose scrunching as she frowned. Ichigo caught the hesitation, realizing he had never supplied his name.

He immediately stuck out his hand, a sheepish smile gracing his features. "Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Ichigo Kurosaki."

"Ichigo," she repeated, a smile touching her lips once more. "I'm Orihime Inoue."

"It's nice to meet you Orihime," Ichigo said, testing out her name on his tongue. "Are you on your way out?" he asked, nodding towards the elevators. She looked to where he had indicated, tugging her jacket closer as she adjusted her purse.

"Um, yes, I am. But I don't need to bother you any further," she started, a hand coming up to wave off the offer, but after seeing how the other woman had pushed her around, Ichigo was hesitant to not accompany her. "I can see myself out."

"I don't mind," he insisted with a shrug. "Besides, if you walk alone, who will fight the dragons?" he added, smiling when the girl laughed once more. He could get used to that sound.

"I suppose you are the only dragon-slayer in the building," she mused playfully, her face lighting up with the smile she gave him.

"Then it's settled," Ichigo insisted, gesturing towards the elevator. "I am heading out as well, so I can walk with you."

"Alright. Thank you," she said, giving into Ichigo's offer and turning towards the elevator. He fell in step with her, stopping at the metal doors and pressing the button to call the elevator car up to their floor.

5:46 pm

They were waiting for the elevator to reach them, Ichigo's mind looking for a way to open a new conversation with the girl who stood beside him, when the first tremor struck Sendai.

The next chapter will start the events of the Earthquake and Tsunami.

Let me know what you think.

Much love,

Meg