Princess of Death

by JamJackEvo

A Hollow attacked her. Ichigo didn't get the chance to save her. But she didn't die, even when her soul was severed from her body. However, the most mysterious event of all was the changes in Orihime, for a dormant power had awakened within her and she was reborn... as a shinigami. IchiHime

14. 6 17: To The End

­­­­­Date written: 07/08/09 – 23/08/09

Posted on FanFiction: 24/08/09

A/N: This is currently my most epic chapter ever. I'm quite surprised that it has gone as long as this. I guess there were more contents and loose ends to tie up before I start thinking of going to the next sub-arc. I was tempted to add a kissing scene, but that would be too fast for their relationship, and I don't think that can be considered 'realistic.' It only happens in movies and melodramatic romance novellas, from what I can recall. I'm taking their progress slowly, but at least we get to see some inner insights that indirectly lead to their subsequent pairing up. I built a lot of character in Orihime in this chapter, though I'm still unsure if it's executed correctly and efficiently. Whichever the case, I'm glad to say that this story has finally reached the 100,000 word milestone. One goal down. My now two current main goals for this story: Become the longest Bleach fanfiction story in this site, and reach the 200,000 word milestone before the end of the year.

Some of the readers were saying that I should keep Orihime's Shun Shun Rika because . . . er, actually I don't know why. But then again, those six little fairies have already been implemented into the storyline long before I finished the outline. I didn't want Orihime to become super powerful, so I debated over shinigami powers and her Shun Shun Rika. Needless to say that the inner debate was won unanimously by both. Though I find that having those fairies will make Orihime much more powerful than normal, there is just no way for me to remove them. But because of her shinigami heritage, the fairies will go through radical changes than what you're familiar with. And they won't make an appearance until the next two or three chapters, either.

And congratulations to Anime Insaniac for being the first to point out the title pattern of Chapters 11 – 14, whose titles I've taken from My Chemical Romance's 2nd studio album, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge. Well, this is the end of the Grand Fisher sub-arc, so I'm hoping to end it with a bit of a bang. I even get to use the chapter title for a fitting end on Ichigo's POV. And who knows, maybe in the future I'll be using songs from The Black Parade as well. The songs in that album do have a motif on death.

---

--- CHAPTER 14 ---

6-17: To The End

11:50

Rukia had finally arrived at the place where Ichigo, Orihime, and the Hollows were fighting. She had been watching the two shinigami fight and had been surprised of the power this version of Orihime showed. Rukia found her fighting style when she fought the black-masked Hollow quite graceful, but most of it was now gone. She came to this conclusion when Orihime showed wanton brutality by, first, throwing the black Hollow towards the other Hollow.

Grand Fisher. She knew of that Hollow. Most shinigami did. After eluding the efforts of her fellow shinigami for fifty-four years, Grand Fisher made a name of itself in a few of the gossips in the Shinigami Academy and the lower-ranked shinigami. When she had first heard of that Hollow, she wanted to learn more of it, but the intel around it was scarce since not only was Grand Fisher elusive, it was also dangerous for shinigami to fight. Out of the few attempts in trying to purify Grand Fisher (which was a very tasking job because the Hollow Radar cannot sense individual Hollow signatures; also, the radar only works when a Hollow enters the Material World), only two had survived. It was only by pure luck and cowardice that the two shinigami had lived to tell their grueling encounter with the elusive Hollow, but they were able to tell the others that Grand Fisher was merciless in battle, leaning more on a psychological level of fighting than physical.

And Rukia was finally seeing the truth in those cowards' words. She had seen the giant poster of Ichigo's mother downstairs only once while making her way out of the house. Merciless as the cowards said, Grand Fisher used the image of Ichigo's mother against him. The way the Hollow was getting into Ichigo's head was undoubtedly low, and she couldn't stand for it. But it seemed that Orihime was beating her to the punch, but her method of engagement was questionable. She also didn't like the way the girl was openly flirting with Ichigo, not because she had any interest with the guy. It was just that now was not the right time for flirts when a threat was still around.

At least Grand Fisher was dumb enough (or rather agitated at being treated like dirt by Orihime that it didn't really think before it acted) to scream in indignation, thus alerting the two orange-heads that the fight was not yet over. Ichigo dashed away from the attack while Orihime blocked it. And with his instant reaction from the imminent danger, he had forgotten to keep hold of his zanpakuto, so it was now in the hands of the brown-eyed Orihime. Orihime said a few words at the Hollow—or maybe it was the image of Masaki, Rukia couldn't be sure—before she readied Ichigo's zanpakuto and threw it at the lure. Grand Fisher swerved its lure from harm's way, only to be in the receiving end of Orihime's own zanpakuto as she thrust it like a spear at her enemy's appendage.

The lure's scream was unexpected, and Rukia could feel the pain lingering within the pitch of the woman's voice. She looked instinctively at Ichigo and saw him covering his own ears. He must be suffering much more than she could comprehend. She had never known the pain of losing a parent, being alone in Rukongai (tr. Wandering Soul City) during the early years of her life.

When her agonizing screams ended with sudden silence, Rukia was almost hesitant to believe that Orihime had charged forward again and bore a hole through Grand Fisher's front teeth, piercing the interior of its mouth, if she hadn't seen it with her own two eyes. The rain made it hard for her to hear whether or not the Hollow was screaming in whispers, but she only needed to confirm it with how Grand Fisher opened its mouth, only to choke on blood caused by Orihime's nodachi cutting open arteries in its gums or tongue or maybe even both. And during this whole thing, Rukia couldn't escape this weird feeling in her gut that it was not yet over. The Hollow had been subdued and close to being sent to Soul Society—all it needed was a little more crack in its mask. Yet she somehow knew that something was missing. Something—

Orihime jumped back just before a mass of shadow bit down on Grand Fisher's upper body. And Rukia found the origin of that weird feeling. She was so entranced over the earlier fight that her mind had unconsciously pushed back the knowledge of the black Hollow, which was still in their vicinity, alive and most certainly hungry. She had read from the Academy textbooks that Hollows don't necessarily target only human souls to satisfy the never-ending hunger within their being. Shinigami souls were rare for them to capture and eat, but some had already been able to grow strong enough to feast on lower-level shinigami and academy students. But what intrigued her was the Hollows' acceptance of cannibalism. Like the tribal beliefs of humans in the distant past, Hollows often partake in hunting down and eating their own species to grow stronger, to calm their hunger, and to be marked as one that had transcended from a weakling to a being that could conquer and survive.

'The strong shall live and the weak shall die.'

This is what the Hollows residing within the Hollow World do to keep on living. Their instincts rely on the hunger in their hollow hearts, pushing them further into a sort of madness in which the desire to satiate the emptiness within them by any means necessary was all that mattered to them. If others thought it was taboo, they wouldn't care. If others said that eating each other could kill you, they still wouldn't care. All that mattered was satisfaction.

And satisfaction was a feeling a Hollow could never reach. It was a vicious cycle that should've ended with the extinction of the Hollows, but with every purification courtesy of a shinigami—or getting engorged by its own brethren—another soul or two would replace the lost creature.

The black Hollow roared after eating Grand Fisher. Something black and snaky was pouring out of its mouth, dividing into more of itself as they crawled their way towards the edges of its elongated jaw. The Hollow began to expand and form itself into a round, black bubble, growing bigger with each second passed. The snake-like things seemed to have dug inside the Hollow, so they weren't affected by the black creature's sudden body expansion. The black Hollow became rounder and bigger before her eyes.

"Get down!" Orihime yelled as she tackled Ichigo to the ground. Rukia only took a moment to contemplate the cause of the girl's urgency; she then quickly hid herself behind a wide tree as the bubbled Hollow burst into a rain of black goo. The sound was like an explosion of loud fireworks, for Rukia heard ringing in her ears when the spread of the goo had stopped. And the once loud noise of the rains patter with the ground turned into nothing more but the sound of a mild downpour.

Rukia moved away from the safety of the tree's fat trunk. The rest of the place was covered in black goo that was slowly eating away on the bark of the trees, the leaves and branches of the shrubs, and the life of anything it touched. She had no idea what matter of substance could create this kind of effect on anything it made contact with. Acid was a plausible answer, but there was something more than that. She wanted to take a sample and let Urahara take a look at it, but she was afraid on what the oozing, black liquid might do to her if she touched it.

Orihime and Ichigo were, thankfully, safe and untouched by the burst, though Ichigo looked a little flustered as Orihime got off of him. They both turned back to the Hollow, and Rukia followed in their example.

She gasped. Her eyes weren't deceiving her, but this was a sight she couldn't possibly understand. If she thought that things could not get any weirder, then she was undoubtedly wrong. For all the years that she had been serving Soul Society in sending lost souls to it and purifying Hollows from their own emptiness, not once had she seen a Hollow with a mask that wasn't white. Sure, there were some Hollows who had unique tribal markings that all came in different colors and shades, but this was a different mask altogether. A Hollow's mask's base color had always been white; you would never see a Hollow without having the majority color of its mask as white.

What stood there on brown, desolated grass was a human-shaped Hollow with a completely black mask. But that was not the only oddity. The hole every Hollow had was still present in this black-masked Hollow's torso, but what set it off from normal was its . . . its . . . incompleteness. The hole this Hollow had was in the shape of a half-circle.

Snapping out of her shock, Rukia's mind went into overdrive. Whatever intel she had gathered during the past few weeks were utterly useless when trying to decipher this large puzzle, and she was certain that there were a lot of missing pieces. But at least she knew of one person that might be able to explain the existence of a Hollow with a black mask, which had previously shrouded itself in a black cloak-like covering that you couldn't see both its mask and hole. She looked at her cell phone again, needing reassurance that what she was seeing was really a Hollow and not some kind of new creature that could be a threat to Soul Society and the real world. The blip on the radar sent her a wave of relief, but it also made her slightly tense in the arms as her grip on the phone tightened. Relief was for it being a Hollow; tense was for the fact that it was still a threat with unknown capabilities.

Soul Society would need to be informed, but how to approach the subject would be quite a hurdle to jump over. Rukia felt it was in her duty to inform her superiors about the supposed threat, but she also felt that it was not a good idea to tell them without researching a little about the creature. Her word of mouth alone wouldn't be able to convince the higher-ups; they could even label her sighting as delusions and forget all about her warnings twenty seconds later. That was the way of Soul Society, one of the many flaws she had found irritating for the job of a shinigami. And with her being a few weeks late in reporting back wouldn't help her case. It would likely be the ammunition they would use to convince others that she was only making excuses of her tardiness, trying to lower down the sentence for those who come back way past the report deadline. She already knew what the punishments that awaited her were.

Still, she needed more information before presenting her report to Soul Society, punishment or not. She had to start with photographic evidence. Mentally thanking the 12th Division's Research and Development Institute for installing her phone with a camera feature, she immediately set to work in getting some high-resolution pictures of the black-masked Hollow. The only problem now was . . . this was her first time using the camera feature . . . and it was taking her longer than necessary to set the thing up.

When she finally did get it to work (32x zooming included), she accidentally clicked the shutter just as when Orihime clashed with the Hollow, sword to forearm. The picture showed on-screen was a side view of the two's clash, revealing Orihime with a feral grin and the Hollow's black forearm adorning red and brown zigzag tattoos. It was here that Rukia found another comparison between before and after of the strange Hollow's transformation. From afar, one would think that the Hollow's body was covered in shiny soot-colored skin due to the shine from the water wetting it, but if one were to look much closer they would see that the Hollow was actually covered in fur and the shine was only a few white strands of fur mingling with the masses of black strands. Rukia speculated that maybe the tattoos it had were dyed to the fur rather than its skin. It surely would make more sense that way.

But with all she could observe from one mere photo, she doubted it would be enough for valid evidence to prove the truth of her future report. However, it was difficult for her to capture a photo with only the Hollow in it since Orihime seemed determined to fight it without rest.

Out of the many pictures she had taken until the battle was relatively over—so to speak—there were only two pictures of the Hollow without Orihime in it.

---

The tears were cascading from her gray eyes. It had been a while after Orihime and her zanpakuto's spirit had been silent with each other, and she was feeling much better now than when she first heard of the grave revelations. Orihime didn't really understand the need for secrecy, but there had to be at least a reason for it; a reason for the kimono woman to not tell her anything about things she mustn't dabble into. And with that thought, did that mean that her real parents were dangerous people, that she was sent away for adoption by her biological father to protect her from his enemies? If so, who were those enemies?

There were a lot more questions Orihime wanted to ask, but her voice seemed to have become too dependent of the silence that she couldn't start with the interrogation. And while she just sat there, crying out a few more tears from the loss that wasn't completely a loss, the kimono woman sat elegantly and quietly. Her stare was towards the cliff, where down below was the gray mist that housed the graveyard of swords. It was like she was waiting for Orihime to ask her next question with patience and a clear mind rather than force her into asking them right away. The kimono woman was a serious woman, Orihime had already noticed that, but she didn't notice how far her seriousness went in a depressing situation like this. Her answers were always direct, wasting no breath for unneeded words. And calm. Very calm. If only Orihime were that calm.

Hoping to follow on the woman's maturity, Orihime wiped the tears away and stifled another sob.

"We don't have much time left, child," the kimono woman informed. "Emi is already fighting the last foe, and I'm at my limit."

Limit? "What do you mean limit?"

"Do you remember what I said to you in the beginning? I am slowly being consumed into your blade, and when that occurs, you and I will no longer be able to communicate until you achieved your shikai."

"Then why didn't you tell me sooner? We could've talked about a lot of things before you had to go." Orihime sounded frantic, afraid. But afraid of what?

"You needed time to grieve for their deaths," she answered. "I decided you should at least know about the fate of your parents before I go."

"You make it sound as if we'll never see each other again."

The kimono woman looked squarely at her. "No, it is more like a feeling that we won't be seeing each other for a long time. I have faith in you, child, but you are just not yet ready to achieve that level of power."

Leaving her questions aside at the moment, Orihime requested something else from the woman. "Then tell me your name."

The kimono woman smiled, as if she had expected her to say those exact words. "Ama******." Her gaze was then back at the cliff. "Judging by your slight deflation, your ears are still deaf to my name."

"Then how?"

The woman said nothing.

"How can I achieve shikai?" Orihime elaborated.

"Through slow, easy steps," she said nonchalantly, leaving Orihime in confusion. "Your first step would have to be controlling Emi without me."

A shiver took hold of her shoulders, tracing what felt like a cold hand down to her shoulder blades. She now realized what she was afraid of: Keeping herself in control of the body without support from her zanpakuto's spirit.

"But how do I do that?" Orihime asked.

"Have you not noticed that most of your fights were won single-handedly by Emi rather than yourself? You have found your will to fight, yet you're still trying to fight your enemies with a dull blade. And while you fight with the reverse-edge, she fights without restraint with the sharp edge. Emi is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because without her, you wouldn't have survived this long with your turmoil."

Orihime knew what she was talking about. It was the time when she had been scratched in the back by a Hollow, landing her in the Kurosaki clinic for a few days. While Dr. Kurosaki had been busy keeping her body alive, her mind was inside her soul (or was it her consciousness visiting the inner realm of her mind?) and being given a test to find her will to fight before the time limit was up.

"In truth, that little episode was caused by the backlash of your powers resurfacing all in one time through a source that would've been harmful to your body. Emi thought it was her chance to kill you, but I was able to find the flaw in her attempt. I could have stopped her myself, but if I did then you wouldn't have had a chance to develop yourself. It was a risk I wanted to take because I honestly believed you would find what you needed." She stood from her seat and walked to the railing. Orihime's eyes followed her movement. "Your reiatsu had still been relatively controllable, and you were slowly adapting the exceeding amount of power. But the injury that reeked of the dark aura of Hollows made your body go into a defensive frenzy, countering the contamination. If it weren't for Emi's existence, your soul wouldn't have been able to survive the powerful backlash of spirit energy working frantically all over that wound."

"What is this contamination?"

"Humans rarely survive after being injured by a Hollow, that is if they ever survived an encounter with one. When a shinigami is the one injured, their high level of reiatsu acts as a repellent to the harmful effects. Your body was still adapting, so that immunity had been both your savior and almost destroyer."

"And now my reiatsu is under control?"

The woman nodded. "Emi is also a curse," she continued, "not only because she had tried to kill you before, but also because of what she is. I must ask that you do not trust her, Orihime."

The way she ordered it was quite stern, making it clear that this was no laughing matter or something to not get serious about; she even called her with her first name. It was only the second time she had done that. But there were still some things Orihime didn't understand.

"Why? Just what is she?" Orihime asked.

"I cannot say more than what I already told you."

Orihime was about to say something, but she was interrupted.

"But she did try to kill you, so wouldn't that suffice your distrust of her?"

Orihime closed her mouth. The woman raised a valid point. Not only that, Emi currently took over her body and she had no idea how to regain it.

"Moving back to the original topic," the kimono woman said, "you will need to get her out of her control. To do that, you will need to demand her to come back here by your willpower alone."

"Willpower?"

"This is your mind and soul, child. Everything, including myself, is yours to control without restraint. You're the ruler of your own will, and nothing must stand against you."

"But what if she'll kill me?"

She chuckled. "You do not need to worry anything of the sort. She and I had a . . . 'heart-to-heart talk,' you could say, and I finally got her to see things my way. If you were to die, then she would, too. And what Emi seemed to fear is death itself. She would do anything to stay alive.

"But that does not mean that she won't find ways to pull you into the deepest depths of your own mind, and gain full control over your body. Be vigilant as well as cautious, child, because I will no longer be there to bail you out."

Orihime watched in horror as the kimono woman climbed the railing as if she were about to jump and commit suicide.

"Wait!"

"My time is almost over," she said to her. "And so is yours." She looked over her shoulder, smiling affectionately at Orihime like how a mother would smile at their daughter. "Be strong, Orihime. Many trials await you."

Orihime choked on her next words. She couldn't say a final goodbye before the kimono woman jumped from the railing and into the gray depths below.

She felt lost and broken, not really knowing what on Earth she would have to do to get the older woman back. She almost lost hope until the kimono woman's parting words echoed inside her head.

Be strong, child. Many trials await you.

It gave her reassurance and a desire to fulfill the woman's faith in her. Orihime understood how much trust the kimono woman was putting on her, and she hoped that she wouldn't let her down.

Your first step would have to be controlling Emi without me.

Yes, that should be her objective first and foremost. Orihime couldn't really do anything while being cooked up inside this inner world. And she knew just how to push Emi out and back into the depths of her mind.

Moving her hands to her chest, her left in a fist and her right enclosing it, she bowed her head as if she was praying. Closing her eyes, she whispered these words: "Lend me your strength, and I will lend you my will."

A feeling inside her, as if the wind picked up from somewhere beyond what her mind can fathom. It was like velocity. Speed faster than any living being could go. And she had entered some kind of wormhole that was sending her to wherever the other end led to. She somehow knew that she was nearing it. Something like a barrier had halted her progress for a little while, but it crumbled in milliseconds when she pushed on from its resistance. It wasn't until she was a quarter away from exiting this warp-like velocity that she heard Emi whisper something to her.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, princess."

There was a flash of light, and Orihime had a feeling that she was back in the real world. She didn't feel anything different, but at the same time she just knew something was different. It could be the air, the feel of the ground, her wet clothing, or maybe even from her current stance which was quite different from her praying position a few moments ago. On a side note, there was something she was grasping firmly in her outstretched hand; something soft, like jelly. Curious, she took a bigger hold of the object, wanting to know what it was first before opening her eyes again. Along with the soft object, she also felt something else that was—

Wait! Th—thi—this is—!

Orihime opened her eyes suddenly with a yelp. Only then did she realize the scene she was in. And she felt embarrassed, shocked, and mortified all at the same time.

---

11:52

Emi did not like the new enemy. Due to her connection with Orihime and, by extension, her zanpakuto's spirit, she knew what kind of creature she was facing. She had had a hunch about its nature before it feasted on the anglerfish-like Hollow, but it was now clear to her on what that Hollow really was. The black mask explained everything. It was a Hollow she had not met, but only known through the knowledge Emi had taken from the hag in the red kimono. The hag might have been secretive to Orihime but there is no secret she can keep from Emi. Sadly, the same thing can be said if the situation is reversed. That was why the old hag knew about her plans in trying to kill Orihime while she was in a near-death state, and just look where that led her to. She had only been able to make Orihime stronger due to her attempt, and that was a more indignant failure than merely losing her control over the body. But Emi was not that hurt by it. No, she just needed to bide her time. And just when she thought there was no God for someone like her, she had been given the chance to breathe the air of the outside world again just from the presence of the black-masked Hollow.

And she was sure to repay it with a quick death. Even if doing so would most likely end with her returning into Orihime's little mind-world, she couldn't stop herself, as if she was compelled to eradicate scum like the one in front of her. The mere sight of it sickened her, irritated her.

The Hollow stood on dead grass, a side effect from the metamorphosis it took part in. Though Emi was glad that the transformation did not fully awaken the true potential on what these creatures were capable of. She could see the Hollow hole that represented that locked potential: it was just a half-circle. If it instantly became a half-circle by eating only one Hollow, then the angler-Hollow must either have been quite a powerful one (sarcasm) or one who had eaten a lot of souls. Either way, it didn't matter. She had a new opponent to fight.

Without warning, Emi charged straight ahead, swinging her sword from right to left, intending to cut the creature's head off cleanly and precisely. It was, however, blocked by the Hollow's forearm. Emi was impressed by its own toughness. But she was sure she would have been able to cut that arm in half, if not for the nature of Orihime's blade and the Hollow's which cancelled out her profound strength; no matter how much power she'd put into a thrust or a slash, as long as that Hollow kept using its gauntlet-like forearms, she had no chance of cutting it apart. She needed to attack a softer and defenseless spot.

Even with this disadvantageous predicament, Emi fought on. She prided herself with being a person that transcended much further than any others before her. She was one-of-a-kind, she told herself once. And the kimono hag had agreed with her, albeit reluctantly. She would not lose to a half-assed creature like that.

Still, it would be nice if she could have a sword of her liking. Orihime's nodachi was not really a problem, blade-wise, but its nature was different from Emi's preference. But it was not yet the time for her to use that. Too destructive, and obviously too powerful for this Hollow's caliber. It would be boring if it were to have a quick death. That just wouldn't do.

Her blade clashed with the Hollow's forearms for a while before it started dodging her strikes instead. It would also counter a few times before dodging again. It repeated this process over and over. Lather, rinse, repeat. Lather, rinse, repeat. This change of tactics—and annoying repetition—intrigued Emi.

"Impressive hand-to-hand, doofus," she said, standing eight feet away from her opponent while Ichigo-kun watched from the sidelines, apparently still in a bit of a shock at all that happened. She was forced to widen the distance between her and the Hollow when it had gotten close enough to hit the chance opening she made during one of her attempts in finding a weak spot. Thankfully, she got away in time before she was hurt by those sharp black claws.

The Hollow responded with a grunt, which puzzled Emi whether it had acknowledged her comment or not.

Wanting to get an intelligent reply, she said, "You got a name? I, at least, would want to know the name of the lout that gave me a sweat in this spar."

Its yellow-brown eyes narrowed. It didn't answer.

"What are ya, mute?"

No answer.

"Deaf?"

No answer.

"Cat got your tongue?"

Again, no answer.

"Or just plain stupid?"

The Hollow lifted its right hand to shoulder-level, claws out. It showed its palm to her, the fingers spread apart and arched, as if they were in a readied position for the Hollow to scratch an imaginary blackboard. The black creature stayed like that for a long time, its eyes still narrowed at Emi.

Emi kept her guard. There was no telling what the Hollow had for a plan. Ordinary Hollows might not be as sufficient as this one, and that kept her pretty much on full alert. Not only that, Orihime's shinigami form was slowly taking the strain of Emi's pushing it beyond its current limit. If anything, Orihime absolutely lacked the strength and speed Emi would need to fight on full power, though that didn't really mean she was fighting seriously right now. Like before, Emi considered this a spar—a very serious spar. And she was holding back, not just for the sake of lengthening the fight and enjoying it more, but also to keep her own body from collapsing at all the moves she would use. Unfortunately, Emi had already done three slip-ups during the fight, if you include the cut she sustained in her left arm before she moved to this portion of the cemetery. The other two were minimal damage and self-inflicted than another cut wound from the Hollow. It was her legs that were the problem. They wouldn't move as fast as she intended them to be, which caused her to pull her whole body back than just sidestepping her opponent's attacks most of the time.

Orihime seriously needed some leg exercise.

Suddenly, the Hollow thrust its arm. The wind picked up and it headed straight towards Emi.

Emi moved her sword to block, not yet realizing that the attack was wind-based. She realized too late as the strong wind felt like someone sucker-punched her in the face. Her eyes closed involuntarily from the presence of the wind flowing through her face, and her eyes opened up again too late for her to completely block the Hollow's follow-up attack, a vertical claw strike aimed for her head. Her head was unharmed, and so was the rest of her body. The only thing that the Hollow was able to injure was her left arm, which she had used to reinforce the block by pushing her forearm on the blunt side of her sword. The claws, however, were long and curved like talons. One of those long claws struck the blade, breaching through the defense, and was able to scratch her forearm.

The Hollow retreated as Emi pushed it away. When she inspected the new wound, she was a little relieved to see that it was not a deep one. But what amazed her was where she was scratched. The cut wound she had gotten earlier intersected her new cut, creating an X-like pattern. The bleeding was minimal, so she didn't need to worry about dying of blood loss.

Now Emi was mad. If the Hollow wanted to play rough, she would give it rough. But she wasn't able to start getting serious when she suddenly heard a noise from somewhere. It was like a static sound, but more controlled and less chaotic. It was more like the sound made by a rain of pebbles smashing into each other as they reached the bottom. Or maybe it was just because of the rain that it sounded like that. Whatever sound it might be, the Hollow seemed drawn to it.

"Master . . ." it whispered.

It was quiet and distorted from the constant noise of the rain, but Emi heard nevertheless. And her stomach churned uncomfortably, as if the ambiguous name struck her much deeper than any other word. But that wasn't really true. Emi was more uncomfortable of the Hollow's tone of voice when it said its first word in her presence. The Hollow was fully submissive to that noise—Emi was now sure that it was a call from this 'Master'—and Emi had never seen any Hollow looking and sounding that submissive before, even if that Hollow was a black-masked one.

"Hey!" Emi yelled, but she wasn't fast enough to stop her enemy from escaping. She cursed loudly. Trying to sense its presence did not work. It was like it had disappeared from the face of the earth. Or more accurately, it had opened a portal back to the place from which it resided. And she was annoyed as hell because her freakin' opponent left mid-fight just to go back to its goddamn Master! Of all the things it could have done to try and escape death, it would have to be that! And worst of all, the Hollow didn't seem to mind being summoned, as if fighting her mattered only little in its god-forsaken life. And this was an offense she could not ignore lightly.

Fuming for a few more minutes, she had calmed down enough for Ichigo-kun to approach her. Rukia was right behind him; they seemed to have conversed with each other while she was distracted by her frustrations.

"Are you all right?" Ichigo-kun asked. That was so sweet of him, worrying over her.

"Fine," she replied with a sweet smile, though it unnerved him more than easing him, which was her original intention. She needed to take her approach lightly; Ichigo-kun was uncomfortable with her. Better add something to her earlier sentence so as to appear she cared . . . which she did, somewhat. "You?"

Ichigo-kun looked surprised. "Uh, fine, I guess."

She inspected him thoroughly. He had been ragged and torn when she last saw him, but not anymore. She looked meaningfully at Rukia.

The woman nodded, as if answering the question Emi had not even asked yet. "I healed him," she informed.

Emi narrowed her eyes at her. While thankful that Rukia healed Ichigo-kun's wounds, she still didn't like her hands moving all over his body. That should be a special privilege only for her and Orihime, and she'd be damned if anyone else were to come and try to woo her man under her watchful eye. She walked towards her, inching her head closer and closer to Rukia's, which unnerved the woman at the close proximity. Emi didn't care; she wanted to get her message across, clearly and dangerously. When her lips were beside the raven-haired woman's right ear—which was also a position where Ichigo-kun could not see her face due to Rukia's head blocking it—Emi whispered, "The only thing that I can tolerate for you to get close to what's mine is to heal him. Anything else, I consider it you trying to steal him away from me." Her voice then turned menacing. "If I ever find you doing just that, I will kill you." Eyes narrowed, she then growled with gritted teeth, "I will kill you."

She backed away, and saw Rukia's frightened and anxious. She hoped that the bitch got the message.

"Rukia?" Ichigo-kun called. When he saw her eyes narrowed at Emi, he quickly turned to the girl and said, "What did you say to her?"

"I only told her something that Orihime had been thinking of, but was too kind to actually say."

"Lies," Rukia said. "Inoue-san would never think of that threat."

"You're forgetting that I am a part of her, so whatever I said will still be Orihime's."

"Just who the heck are you?" Ichigo-kun questioned.

She smiled. "I am Orihime, and I am not Orihime. But if you insist on a name, just call me Emi."

"What did she say to you?" Ichigo-kun asked Rukia, seeing that Emi wasn't going to elaborate on the 'threat.'

"To not get close to you, from what I understand," Rukia replied, keeping her distance from him, as if the threat was to be taken seriously.

"Why?"

"Because you're mine," Emi answered.

"I'm not your property." He took her answer as some kind of threat because his hand instinctively went for the hilt of his zanpakuto, which was supposed to be sheathed in its scabbard, but Ichigo-kun only touched air. Emi, though, knew right where that ogre sword of his was. Embedded on one of the trees, yards away from where they were. Realizing now that she was the only one with the sword, Ichigo-kun resorted to glaring at her.

Oh how she loved that rebellious part of him. That deep scowl made him look funny as well as cute. She really liked it when her prey was playing hard to get.

"What did you do to Inoue?" he questioned.

Is this an interrogation or something? Why can't the guy ask something about me, instead, like what are my likes and dislikes?

Emi shrugged. "She's somewhere."

She would've made more fun out of their confusion, but she felt the tug in her mind that signified Orihime fighting back for control. The Hollow was now gone, so there was no meaning for her to stay any longer. Guess it was time for her to leave. She believed that it would be another while before she could break free from the confines of the princess's mind-world again, so she wanted to do something to leave her mark this time. Terror and memories wouldn't be enough. She had a different thing in mind. Maybe she could have one last bit of fun with Ichigo-kun, after all. It might also help her in knowing more about the orange-haired shinigami.

"What do you mean 'somewhere'?"

Emi tapped her forehead. "Somewhere in here, and it seems like the little princess is fighting my barriers to regain control over this body." She smirked at them. "We won't be seeing each other again for a long time, I'm afraid. But before princess gets the chance to finally come back, I have a little surprise for you." She inched closer to Ichigo-kun. "Question: What is Orihime to you?"

Ichigo looked taken aback. "What?"

"Indecisive?" Emi frowned. "That just won't do." She soon smiled when he didn't resist her hands grabbing both of his. His big, strong hands were cold from the rain, but also had his enchanting warmth. She liked both. "Do you know how much you rock my world, cutie?"

Taking the initiative quickly, Emi placed Ichigo-kun's left hand on her right breast and his right hand on her most sacred spot. She moaned softly from the feel of his hand on one of her mounds, and it grew even louder when she moved his wrist in a circular motion. The hand touching the thick fabric between those warm and cold fingers and her untouched crevice was less than desirable. Though Emi had a feeling that this was the only place where pleasure was greater than having her breast fondled by a hand other than her own, the fabric acted as a sort of protective barrier shielding her attempt for a chance of finally getting "touched," to a degree. But it didn't really matter much. She was more interested in the effect. Something as profound and delicate and irreplaceable as this feeling other than the desire and lust her actions obviously showed would take more time to develop. She and Orihime may be closer to a stage that must be far more than simple puppy love, but Ichigo-kun's feelings were uncertain and the space reserved in his heart for "The Girl" was still pretty much empty, of that Emi was sure. And she was also sure that once Ichigo-kun got out of his shock (he basically stood stunned and in disbelief seconds after initial contact with her private places, and did nothing to stop her, while Rukia stood where she was, probably debating whether or not to intervene, but eventually decided on the latter because the threat was surely still fresh in her mind), then maybe—just maybe—he'd start thinking of her as a candidate for that reserved spot.

This plan might also backfire—there was always a margin for error for this—but she had confidence over her decision, and how this would entail to Ichigo-kun's reaction once he got it into his head that Emi was disappearing and Orihime was reappearing, while his hands were still firmly planted on her breast and her groin. If it did backfire, then at least Emi was able to gauge out Ichigo Jr.'s . . . ahem, potential, as it stood in attention from all the (ahem) attention; a little fondling and Jr. was up and about. If she couldn't get a place in his heart through normal means, then what was stopping her from forcefully taking it?

"You like?" she asked.

Ichigo didn't look like he heard. His face was as red as blood.

The tug pulled her back from dominant control. She was slowly moving away from the world of reality and into the realm of Orihime's mind-world. Wanting to say some parting words to the girl once she realized the position Emi had put her body and Ichigo-kun in, she said these words: "Enjoy it while it lasts, princess."

When Emi finally felt her senses on reality slowly diminishing to black and nothing, she vaguely wondered that if she were to do these things to Ichigo-kun more often, then would that eventually lead to her and him becoming parents before turning eighteen. Well, now there was a food for thought.

Emi returned to the mind-world with thoughts of what their future children would look like.

---

12:12

Ichigo couldn't think straight. His hands were preoccupied with two things that almost fried up his thought processes. No matter how much he would try to deny that anything indecent had entered his thoughts, there was no hiding in his mind that he could never have imagined that a woman's boob could feel this soft.

This was unreal. Totally unreal. What would happen if he were to fondle the nipp—

No, no, no! Stop thinking about that!

He darted his eyes away from the hand fondling on Orihime's breast, and was about to pull his hands away—

"Kuro . . . saki-kun?"

He flinched. Inspecting the girl's eyes, he was staring wide-eyed at two gray orbs. They looked frightened, confused, and embarrassed. Ichigo had no idea how he could get out of a situation like this, and the only thing that his dry mouth could utter were unintelligible words. He was still pretty much in shock over Orihime's alter-ego's—Emi was her name—boldness that the thing she had said about Orihime coming back was temporarily disregarded while his brain tried to reboot after getting fried. Out of all the things his mind might have been thinking during those generous few seconds of deciding what to do exactly, the thought of Orihime waking up to a scene as . . . misunderstanding as this did not cross his mind at all.

And he was currently paying the price for that.

"Ino—" He stopped to clear out the knot in his throat which resulted in him sounding like a deranged chipmunk on cannabis. "Inoue, this isn't what you think." And to prove that, he quickly pulled his hands away from the two unique organs of the female anatomy, blushing madly all the way. "I—I—I—I—" I am really making a fool out of myself, he finished inwardly.

Orihime looked at the ground and avoided his gaze.

"It's all a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding," he insisted, avoiding looking at her. The sight and the touch were still fresh in his mind, and he was sure that he'd lose the ability to talk again if he were to look at Orihime when he wasn't yet ready to face her. He rubbed the hairless surface of his nape, a force of habit he had gotten; this action helped him calm down somewhat when he'd try to explain something embarrassing to someone.

"It's okay," she whispered.

"Eh?" Ichigo kept his gaze away from Orihime. He heard what she said, and his surprise was obvious even if you didn't get a look at his face.

"I said i—it's okay," she repeated, louder this time. "I know it wasn't your fault."

Breathing deeply and exhaling it out slowly, Ichigo steeled his will and turned his head to look at her. Her head was still down, and her hands were trying to cover up the places where he had touched, as if the shitagi and kosode (df. The under- and over-shirt of the shinigami uniform, respectively) were not enough to make her decent. It was like she was afraid that he'd try groping her again even when she said that it wasn't his fault. But that was beside the point. For Ichigo, it was still him who was at fault. He could blame it all on Emi, but that didn't explain his hesitation at the slightest. Ichigo wanted to say something to Orihime, but something else was holding his tongue hostage.

"I . . . uh . . ." Words couldn't be formed. This situation was as delicate as thin ice; heck, Ichigo even felt like he was walking on thin ice. One false step and it was the cold, blue icy water below.

Neither said a thing. The air around them was quite awkward.

"Are you two done yet?" Rukia asked, breaking the silence. At that moment, it was as if something dark and gloomy had been lifted from the surrounding air.

"Uh, yeah," Ichigo said, hesitatingly. "I guess so."

"No, you are not."

"What?"

Rukia bashed his head.

"OW! The hell was that for?"

"Apologize."

He arched an eyebrow at her.

"You haven't apologized to Inoue-san yet."

"No, no. There's no need," Orihime interjected. "I don't really mind it. It was an accident, so no need for apologies."

"But—"

"Let's just go," she insisted. "I don't want to stay in this place a minute longer."

"We will," Rukia replied, "but not until the idiot apologizes." She jabbed her thumb at Ichigo's direction.

Orihime wanted to convince the woman otherwise about that, but Ichigo agreed on Rukia's order. He still felt at fault for the incident, and the only way he could think of for him to move forward and let the past be the past was to start apologizing.

"I'm sorry," he said before Orihime could say another word of protest. And he gave those two words his honest feelings of the matter.

Orihime paused, looked at him, blushed, and then looked away. She was twiddling on the hem of her right sleeve with both hands. If Ichigo were not feeling sorry for himself, he would've thought of that action as a little weird. Then again, a lot of things about Orihime were weird.

She was silent awhile, nervously fidgeting the hem like a shy person who had no idea about social interactions. "A—apology accepted," she murmured at Ichigo, then said to Rukia in a normal voice, "Can we go?"

Rukia crossed her arms, looking strangely at Orihime. She looked like she was in deep thought for a few moments before her eyes shot out in surprise and a small smile adorned her lips. She had this facial expression that clearly shouted out, "I see," and Ichigo knew that that face was mostly reserved for people who learned of someone's dark secret but had no ill-intentions about it. They instead thought of the realization as the last piece of the puzzle, and were merely smiling in self-gratification for solving the mystery.

"I've told Kon to take your sisters and Inoue-san's body to the nearest shrine," Rukia said. "We will rendezvous with him there."

"Are you sure it was a good idea keeping Kon in charge of my sisters and Inoue's body?" Ichigo asked.

"Did you have something else in mind?"

"No."

"Then I had no other choice. Besides, what's the worst he can do?"

Ichigo already had a reply ready for that question, but chose to keep his mouth shut. It involved Orihime's body and Kon's lecherous tendencies, after all. The girl had already experienced an accidental groping in her shinigami form, and she was already a little cautious of him. He'd be just adding fuel into the fire by saying his remark out loud.

So instead of a verbal answer, Ichigo shrugged.

"Unreliable, I know," Rukia said.

"I didn't say anything."

"Yes, but your eyes were practically screaming it."

You're not a mind-reader, Rukia, he thought, so stop trying. You're only making yourself look foolish.

"Let's just go," he replied.

Before going, they went somewhere nearby to retrieve the lion plushie for Kon and Ichigo's zanpakuto. Thanks to Rukia healing him up while Emi was fighting that black-masked Hollow, his body didn't feel as sore as he thought he would. He didn't ask her anything about that black-masked Hollow, though. Rukia had that look about her that told him he should not, by any circumstances, ask until she was ready. When that would be, he was not sure. And he just knew that he'd be growing impatient at each passing day.

And thanks to Orihime's familiarity of where they currently were, the three were making good progress in getting to the shrine. When Ichigo asked Orihime if she had been to the cemetery before, he was surprised to hear that she hadn't set foot here since she was nine years old.

"Then how'd you know your way around here?"

"Practice," Orihime answered, as if that was enough to make sense of the whole thing.

Ichigo thought it better not to ask anymore. All in all, Orihime was quite a weird girl. But that aspect of hers was something he considered cute . . . and sometimes enigmatic.

---

12:36

The whole Karakura cemetery was vast due to the forest blending with the rows of gravestones. People said that the area had a violent history during the early periods of Edo, and ghosts would often scare visitors during the night. But neither Orihime nor Ichigo believed any of those old ghost stories because of obvious reasons. Whether it'd be day or night, there was always a spirit lurking in every district of the city, unseen by humans. They were exceptions, and as such had already accepted that dead souls walk (or rather float) among the living. The cemetery should be no different yet they had only seen a few of them floating around. And Orihime was sure that the barren field of gravestones was a result of their fight with the Hollows; they'd practically scared off the rest of the wandering souls in the area. If they hadn't fled, she and Ichigo would've performed konso and lead their souls to Soul Society.

The shrine was then at their view. It was small and compact, around the same size of an average gazebo. Apart from its relatively old-fashioned design and age, which may or may not have dated back to the earlier days of the Edo period, it provided adequate shelter from the rain. The door that led to its interior was left ajar, and though they didn't peer through any of the windows, Orihime knew that Kon and Ichigo's little sisters were inside. The door wouldn't be ajar, otherwise.

They entered the shrine.

"Orihime-chan! Nee-san! You're ba—"

The raven-haired woman slammed her palm on the shouter's head and closed it into a fist to secure the pill. The soulless body fell to the floor, but the former was saved from painfully hitting the latter by two orange-haired shinigami. One of them immediately turned the body around and inserted himself into it, merging soul and body together again.

"Glad Pops is not here," Ichigo commented, wincing as he rubbed a hand on one of the many sores on his body.

"I concur," Rukia said, nonchalantly tossing the Mod Soul pill in the air. "It would be difficult to explain our presence here." Catching the pill mid-air, she took the plushie toy on her other hand and fed it the green orb. The lion doll convulsed and its black-dotted eyes blinked.

"I'm back!" Kon announced proudly before a foot stomped him on the head. He was 'eating' the pavement. The rest of what he said was too muffled for anyone to make sense out of.

"Aren't you being a bit too mean to him, Kurosaki-kun?" Orihime asked. She had spotted her physical body while Rukia was preparing for Kon's extraction, so she was already back in her own body but she was currently feeling quite uncomfortable due to her clothes being soaked to the brim. Even her slim-fit denim jeans were quite wet that she felt it was heavier than before. It didn't help that her bra and panties were wet, too. If she didn't get out of these clothes soon, then she might catch a cold.

"Get your freakin' foot off me, you sadist!" Kon yelled indignantly, momentarily getting his face off the floor, only to be rebuffed with another boot . . . by Rukia.

"Be quiet or you might wake the twins," she said.

The plushie gave her an okay sign to signify that he got the message: Shut up or be tortured.

"Good." She took her foot off Kon's head, followed by Ichigo's, and headed straight for the exit of the shrine. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago, right around the time when the three had gotten to their destination.

"Where are you going, Kuchiki-san?" Orihime asked.

She stopped momentarily, but didn't turn to face them. "Verifying a hunch," she said mysteriously. Without another word, she exited the shrine.

"Kurosaki-kun, do you—"

"I have absolutely no idea what she's talking about or where she's going. Frankly, I'd rather not know. The things she does are already complicated as they are."

"I don't think they're that complicated." Though what these 'things' Ichigo was referring to, Orihime hadn't a clue.

"Then you haven't seen the rest of her doodles. Over a century old and she still can't draw worth a darn."

"I think you just need to have an open mind to understand what the contents of those illustrations are, Kurosaki-kun. And I think Kuchiki-san draws like that because maybe someone she looks up to draws in a similar way."

Ichigo was silent for a while. "Inoue . . . I have a hard time picturing someone whom Rukia regards as an idol drawing bunnies and bears on each doodle, no matter what the topic is. If someone like that actually exists, then they're as crazy as Rukia."

"You think so?"

He nodded seriously. "Anyway, how'd you end up with that conclusion?"

Orihime opened her mouth to begin her explanation when a newcomer entered the shrine.

"Oh, so you're finally awake, Orihime-chan," Isshin Kurosaki said, smiling. He set down his backpack on the dry floor, taking special care not to drop it near the footsteps she and Ichigo had made. Orihime then vaguely wondered if Isshin had noticed an extra set of footprints on the floor, but since he didn't show any outward reaction, she put that thought away.

Almost forgetting her manners, Orihime bowed to the middle-aged man. "Good afternoon, Kurosaki-san."

"And a good afternoon to you, too. I hope you'll be able to teach my son more respect to his elders."

"I'll respect my elders the way I always do it," Ichigo said. "And, sadly, you're not even being considered in that group."

"And that's exactly how you lack the necessary training to become a real man, Ichigo." He pointed an accusing finger at him. "Our battles are numberless, but when it comes to the war, you have already lost."

"What war are you talking about, old man?"

"Kukuku. Nothing your feeble, little teenaged mind can possibly comprehend. It is the war to manhood, of course!"

Ichigo looked like he was at a loss for words, but only for a moment before he sighed out loud. "Whatever. I don't want to have any part of it."

"By the way, Orihime-chan, aren't you cold?"

Orihime inspected herself again. The opened door was letting in a mild wind and she involuntarily shivered as the air circulated around the drenched spots on her back. She fought back a sneeze that was urging her to let it out.

"Luckily, I came prepared," Isshin announced as he zipped open the backpack and pulled out two T-shirts.

"Why were you carrying extra clothes in your pack?" Ichigo asked, looking at his father in disbelief.

"Because, unlike you, I watch the news, and the weatherman predicted that there'll be rain a bit before noon. Why do you think I insisted in Yuzu letting me have her umbrella for today?"

"Normally, weathermen don't make presumptions as precise as that," Ichigo deadpanned. "Rather, it still doesn't explain why you'd bring extra clothes when you could've just brought some umbrellas."

"You mind too much about the minor details. They don't really matter anyway, Ichigo, so stop overthinking things. Now you two hurry and change your shirts before you get too cold." He handed them the clothes. His gaze was at Orihime last, and he grinned. "If you want, I'll help you change and—"

"Like hell you will!" Ichigo shouted, kicking his father in the face, which caused Isshin to skid through the floor and out of the shrine, banging his head onto the door strongly as he did. "You can change your clothes in here," Ichigo said to her. "I'll keep the old pervert company outside."

Without having a word to say to him, Orihime let him walk out of the shrine and close the door behind him. It had gone darker inside when the door blocked out the sun that had shone through its opening. She glanced at the twins, who were also wet but fast asleep, and began to strip off her top. While silently wishing that there was a towel somewhere nearby for her to dry her hair up, she did her best to fold her red, flower-silhouetted T-shirt. The T-shirt that Isshin had supplied her with was simply a plain white one with a small red heart printed on the left chest where bold letters were written below it—IT ONLY BEATS FOR YOU. Orihime wasn't sure if this shirt could be considered unisex or something that few men would have the gall to wear.

Before putting the white shirt on, she debated with herself if she should remove the last piece of clothing that covered the top portion of her body as well. There were a few problems she might have to face whether she'd still wear her wet bra or not. For the problems in keeping it on, it would still make her front and back cold (though to a lesser degree) and Orihime was certain that it would wet the new shirt. However, if she decided to take it off, then people might notice. The white shirt had a thin fabric and she had no way to tell whether her nipples would appear as little bumps on her chest or not; it didn't help that they got erect from the cold. Then again, the only reason she was hesitant in going stark on the topside was because of Ichigo, and she knew very well what incident already occurred between them.

What was more embarrassing, letting him touch it or letting him see it, albeit indirectly?

Orihime's cheeks fumed in embarrassment, but a decision had to be made. Gathering her resolve, she unhooked her bra and let it fall onto her lap as she knelt on both knees, her toes planted on the floor, her ankles acting as a makeshift seat for her bottom. Taking a deep breath, then letting it out, she put on the BEATS FOR YOU shirt.

Though shameful this problem was, Orihime had to outweigh the pros over the cons because that was the only way for her to keep herself from catching a cold. She even started thinking that maybe Ichigo and Isshin won't notice the lack of an undershirt. But it was quickly scratched when someone knocked on the door, asking for permission to enter, to which Orihime allowed without thinking, and saw her kneeling on the floor wearing the new shirt but holding a red lace bra in her hands.

Ichigo flushed in embarrassment and quickly closed the door. "Sorry!" he cried from outside.

Orihime couldn't stop the blush from reddening more profoundly in her cheeks. Her being an airheaded might have caused her trouble a few times, but she never had to berate herself because of it before. Well, there was a first time for everything.

Not really knowing where she could put the 34C-sized bra where the men's eyes won't see, Orihime slid it inside the fold of her wet shirt.

Apart from that particular predicament, her butt felt like it was being drenched in water, and there was nothing she could do about her wet panties at all. Isshin was not likely to bring additional clothing other than the shirts.

But then a thought came to her: Is this shirt Kurosaki-kun's or Kurosaki-san's?

"Is it okay to come in now?" Ichigo asked, breaking Orihime out of her thoughts.

"Yes," she answered.

"For real this time?"

She nodded, but then realizing that he couldn't see it due to the closed door, she shouted an affirmative.

"Okay, I'm coming in."

Ichigo entered, wearing a sky blue shirt with white tribal markings on the chest and left shoulder. The colors clashed with his hair, but he didn't really have a choice, did he? He still had his scowl, but Orihime thought it was pretty cute for the Ichigo Kurosaki to have such red cheeks along with that facial expression. It made Orihime think of a very angry cartoon character with steam whistling out of both ears, but they both knew the real reason why he looked so flustered. And she couldn't stop the giggle from coming out of her mouth.

"What's so funny?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

She shook her head, and told him the reason honestly.

"I'm not angry," he said.

"I know. That's what makes it funny."

At that time, Isshin reentered the shrine as well. "How's the shirt Orihime-chan? Does it fit?"

Orihime nodded. "It fits." Though she had to keep her arms in an X formation. She felt very self-conscious about being braless in the same room with Ichigo and Isshin.

Isshin acknowledged her claim and began looking for something else inside his backpack. If Isshin had actually noticed the awkward positions of her arms and the way Ichigo tried to not look directly at her, his blush still present, then he didn't comment on it. But Orihime couldn't help but notice the sly grin on the middle-aged man's face.

"So, what brings you here, Orihime-chan?" he asked casually as he pulled out a bento box and a large thermos.

"Visiting my family," she answered right away. She had planned this out beforehand just in case she'd encounter not just Ichigo. Plus, it wasn't a total lie. She was planning on visiting a particular gravesite after all this, anyway.

"I see. How long has it been . . . twelve or thirteen years?"

"Their thirteenth anniversary won't be until October." Try as she might, she couldn't keep her voice straight. It had been quite long since she had talked about them with someone.

Isshin paused from getting two cups out of the pack. He probably noticed the sadness laden in her reply. "Sorry if I said too much, Orihime-chan."

"No, I'm okay."

"If you're sure." He set down the two cups and poured the liquid in the thermos into each. "Here. Something to warm you guys up."

The two teens accepted the offered cups and slowly drank the warm drink. Tamaryokucha (A type of green tea). Sora's favorite. Whenever he would have a cup of it, Orihime would sometimes ask him if she could take a sip of it. It was sweet and bitter at the same time (due to some additives he also put), but she definitely understood the calming effect Sora mentioned it had. And the taste of the cup of tea in her hands was as sweet and bitter as when she first tasted it back when she was six. It was like glimpsing into the past through her sense of taste.

"Ichigo," Isshin called, handing his son the bento.

"Lunch?" he asked.

Just the mere mention of the word caused one particular person's stomach to growl. The sound echoed through the circular walls of the shrine's interior, like it was the growl of many feral creatures hiding in the shadows.

Orihime blushed deeply.

Isshin grinned. "Haven't had lunch yet, Orihime-chan?"

Orihime looked to the floor while shaking her head. She almost instinctively covered her stomach with her hands to try and suppress the growls, but it was too late and actually doing that action would make her chest 'vulnerable.'

Isshin laughed good-naturedly. "Well, then you can share with Ichigo's. It's the last one."

Ichigo handed her the bento. "You can have it."

"But—" Orihime's reply was cut off by her stomach's second round of growling. The rest of her words died in her mouth, drowned by the sheer amount of embarrassment she was feeling. She didn't know if she could look at Ichigo directly anymore.

"I'm not feeling hungry right now." He didn't comment anything else. He just kept his arm stretched for her to grab the bento out of his hand, and seemed like he would stay that way until she took the box.

Resigning from her protest, she took the box from him, opened it, and ate its contents. Isshin went towards the twins, checking up on them; they were still taking their naps. From the shadows, Kon hid from plain view.

"I can't believe Nee-san left me here," he silently complained at Ichigo, who was sitting at a spot near where the Mod Soul was hiding. He then murmured, "Though I should thank her for leaving me, too . . ." The rest was too quiet for her to hear, but Ichigo reacted in a violent way at the plushie and started choking Kon to death. Instead of death, however, his pill just ejected out of the doll.

I wonder what Kon-kun said that made Ichigo mad?

Orihime wanted to ask him, but he seemed to be evading it, as if he didn't really want to answer that particular question at all. In the end, she let him keep his mouth shut. Orihime figured it must be a guys-only thing.

A familiar ring tone reached her ears, and vibrations coming from her right pocket. It was her cell phone, and she had an incoming call.

It must be Tatsuki-chan, she thought. Taking the phone into her hand, her eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment. She had always been a klutz when it concerned technology, which was why she hadn't had a cell phone until recently when Tatsuki insisted she should have one. Tatsuki had taught her the basics in using her flip-phone, but the explanations were just too technical for her mind to comprehend. Orihime had only nodded in pseudo-understanding, and Tatsuki went on with the other features. Orihime had been so confused that the matter concerning her lying skills were temporarily null, so Tatsuki hadn't noticed her unintentional lie. Now here was the predicament she had put herself into: She didn't know how to answer the call.

"Kurosaki-kun," she called, hoping that he knew how to work this candy bar-sized thing. "It's Tatsuki-chan calling. You should pick it up."

"Why? Isn't she calling you?"

"Well . . . I . . . don't know how to answer the call."

He sighed through his nose. "Here. Let me talk to her."

She handed him the phone. He and Tatsuki conversed for a while, though Orihime could only hear Ichigo's replies and not Tatsuki's. They both said their goodbyes and he hung up the phone.

"Tatsuki said she was worried when you weren't replying her emails."

"Emails?" The word confused her.

"Inoue, do you even know what an email is?"

She shook her head.

Ichigo sighed, through his mouth this time, and began explaining to her the mechanics of how to use a cell phone. It was still difficult for her to grasp the concept, but at least she had a much better understanding of using a phone than when Tatsuki explained it. Maybe it was because of Ichigo. She didn't know; she was not sure. And though she would still have a long way to go before she could start to write her own emails, she was happy enough to see that Ichigo was patient in teaching her.

The twins didn't wake for another fifteen minutes. But when they finally did, Isshin announced that it was time for them to go back home . . . right after they changed their clothes, in which he suggested them letting him do the changing for them.

Ichigo and Karin clobbered their perverted father to unconsciousness.

---

1:17

Ichigo stood on the steps outside of the shrine as the sun shone brightly. It was like it hadn't rain almost an hour ago; there were no dark clouds in sight. But the wet pavement and the dewed leaves of the trees were pretty much the indicators of what transpired during the morning.

It was a good thing that the twins didn't make such a fuss about what happened to them earlier. Rukia had the kikanshinki with her, so Ichigo was left with nothing to remove their memories. But thankfully, two things had happened at the correct moment that the two girls will soon forget all about their 'supposed' experience. Apparently, due to some unknown factor Yuzu had forgotten all about the encounter with Grand Fisher. And according to Kon, Karin had woken up before Ichigo and the others arrived at the shrine. He had insisted that her encounter with the Hollow was only a nightmare, but she didn't believe him then. When she went back to sleep and woke up at the same time as Yuzu later, she immediately questioned her about whether or not she remembered being attacked by some invisible monster, in which Yuzu responded with a bewildered look. Karin didn't need any more convincing that it all must have been a dream. But it was definitely a close call for them all.

The figures of his family were at the distance, already set in going home while he stayed in the cemetery to escort Orihime home. His father insisted he should. It turned out that Kon had to lie on the fly when he came to the shrine with Isshin waiting inside, so he told the guy that Orihime had fainted from the heat. The bad thing about that lie was that Isshin was a licensed doctor, so he would have taken the mention of 'fainting because of the heat' seriously, and risk the discovery of Orihime's 'lifeless' state. It had been harder, according to Kon, to convince the doctor that it wasn't a serious problem. Ichigo should be thanking him for the save, but the plushie seemed to have found his own way of payment for all the trouble he'd been through.

When the perverted Mod Soul told him that he had hidden from the rest when Isshin entered, Ichigo realized that he had also been there when Orihime changed. And if what his eyes had witnessed when he reentered the shrine was correct, that meant the bastard saw her without her bra. He would've killed Kon right then and there, but the mention of him not getting a good look due to the darkness diminished it a little. But that only saved the Mod Soul from death. It didn't, however, save him from being beaten within an inch of his life. And to add more torture for the poor guy, Ichigo had let Yuzu keep the plushie after he shoved the pill back into it. Yuzu was happy with her lost-but-now-found dress-up lion doll even if it was a little drenched. Kon looked at him with pleading eyes, mouthing out, "Don't let her take me!"

Ichigo had smirked, looking quite satisfied. He had even given Kon the finger when no one else was looking.

His thoughts went back to Orihime as they descended the steps and went in a different direction than the Kurosakis. When his father had proposed he should escort Orihime back because he was worried that she might have another fainting spell while on her way home, Ichigo had expected her to say that she was fine on her own and that the incident was just a one-time thing. He didn't mind escorting her back at all, but it would usually take a while for someone to convince Orihime that she actually needed the help; she absolutely abhorred being considered a burden from what he remembered Tatsuki had said during their junior high days. And he was surprised to hear no argument from her except for one mere question: "Is Kurosaki-kun okay with it?"

So here he was, side-by-side with a girl of his age, helping her get back home. But there were more pressing matters inside Ichigo's head for him to be distracted by a high school boy's fantasies. When they were far enough from the shrine, he abruptly stopped, followed by Orihime, who was looking down at the ground while hugging the red shirt on her chest. Probably shy about going braless that the thin fabric of his father's shirt was showing more than was appropriate. Ichigo did the best he could to not get on that train of thought. He had to be serious about this for now.

"Did you need me for something?" he asked her straightly. Beating around the bush wouldn't get him anywhere at this point.

She nodded. "I don't think I can . . . face them alone."

"Who?"

"You'll see." With that, she continued walking down the paved path. A few moments later, Ichigo followed her.

It didn't take more than five minutes to arrive at another area set with rows upon rows of gravestones, these ones looking a little older than from the graves he'd seen near his mother's. He saw Orihime come to a halt at a particular set of graves huddled together as if it was for a family, and knelt down to her knees; she placed the wet shirt on her lap.

"I came to visit," she said to the gravestones, "Onii-chan, Mama, Papa."

A lump formed in Ichigo's throat.

There were three gravestones situated in one row. Each one had a name engraved onto the stone, and Ichigo noticed that all three had 'Inoue' as their last name and were written in the traditional downward format, Tategaki. The one on the left had 'Sora Inoue' engraved, meaning that this was the gravestone of Orihime's brother. The one in the middle had 'Arisa Inoue,' and the one on the right had 'Akagi Inoue.' These were Orihime's parents.

A faint memory tugged at his head, forcing him to try and think back to that moment in time. He was certain it was about Orihime, something about what she said to him, but what could it possibly—

"You're wrong . . . I really do understand what you're going through. I honestly do."

His gaze shot back at Orihime, who was having casual talk with three small column-like stones. He didn't see the point in conversing with open air, since their souls had already passed on to Soul Society, but in some part of him, he did see it. It was faith. And faith cemented both of their beliefs that their message will somehow reach that person to whom they were trying to talk to.

"The person behind me is one of my classmates in school. His name is Ichigo Kurosaki. He may look intimidating and mean, but that's only skin-deep. He's actually quite smart, loyal, and strong. And don't worry, Papa, that's his natural hair color. Just like mine."

Though she had smiled at him when she introduced him to them, Ichigo clearly saw that it was a ghost of a smile. Sadness was in her tone and regret was in her stance. People would normally look at the graves when they converse with it, but Orihime was staring at the pavement before the stones without fail. It was as if she was ashamed to even look at their graves. Or hesitant to face the truth that was right before her eyes.

When Orihime became silent after a few more minutes of talking about things under the sun, Ichigo walked closer to the girl and knelt beside her. "Is this what you wanted to show me?" he asked evenly. Truthfully, he had no idea how to react at this piece of news. He had thought it was weird that Orihime told Isshin that she came here to visit her family's grave; the only family of Orihime he had ever known was her brother, and that was only because he had died in their clinic.

Orihime hummed an affirmative, still looking at the ground. "I haven't visited them since Onii-chan died. Onii-chan had always been the anchor of my emotions whenever we would come and visit Mama and Papa."

"And so you turn to me for emotional support?"

She shook her head. "You're different from Onii-chan, Kurosaki-kun. Whenever I am with you . . . I feel more at ease with myself than ever, like everything will be all right in the world no matter how much sadness floods it. And there's another reason why I wanted you to be here."

Orihime had much more things to say to him. Ichigo could tell. But the depth of it must be overwhelming her emotions, secrets that ran deeper than any physical wound that had ever grazed her skin. With patience, he waited for her to start.

"To start off," she said, finally facing up to look at the two gravestones on the right side, "Mama and Papa died when I was only three."

Ichigo was silent.

"I have only the vaguest memories of them, but Onii-chan had at least told me that they loved me very much. He said that they sacrificed their lives to save mine." Her hands were shaking. "On the day they died, October thirteen, everything came unexpectedly. It was at night, and Onii-chan had gone out with his friends for a party, so it was only the three of us.

"The most I can remember of that day was me playing with my teddy bear, while Papa read a novel and Mama fixed a small tear on her favorite blouse. We were all in the living room at the time. Mama rose from the couch to answer a knock at the door. I must have been curious who could be visiting our home at night—most of my parents' visitors come by during the afternoon—so I went with her. I was not really listening to Mama's conversation with a man at the other side of the door. They were raising their voices, and the soft knocks quickly turned to violent poundings.

"That person shouted and pounded at the door, and I didn't know this much back then, but if that man were to keep on ramming the door like that, it would fly off its hinges. Mama went to call the police, but before reaching for the phone, she told me to go to my room. I just followed her orders; I was near tears when the shouts began to relentlessly ring in my young ears. Words that I shouldn't have learned then were known up till this day. He called my mother a whore and a squealer.

"Papa heard the disturbance and he seconded Mama's orders of my going to my room. The four walls of the room that I shared with my brother did little to mull down their yells and curses. I had felt afraid; not for myself, but for Mama and Papa. I just had this feeling in my gut that whoever was on the other side of the entrance was someone like the devil, and there were sadly no angels to protect them from him."

Tears flowed down her cheeks, and Ichigo put a hand on her shoulder. He felt her shiver at the contact. "Will you be okay?" he asked gently, hoping that the girl won't look away and shut herself from him, but he didn't get any response from her. He somehow knew that the night they died ended in a tragedy that left Orihime with bitter memories, but she was telling him this for a reason. Closure to the truth, perhaps, or maybe someone that can understand what she had gone through? And in that moment, Ichigo remembered his earlier conversation with Orihime, the one before he had encountered Grand Fisher.

Orihime really did understand what he was going through because she was the same way as him. Probably felt more grief than him.

A few moments later, Orihime gathered her wits to continue from where she left off. He could not force her to tell him; she needed to go through it at her own pace. His hand never left her shoulder, and she didn't stop shivering. Ichigo was having second thoughts whether he should put his hand away from her, but if Orihime didn't like having his hand on her shoulder then she would've said so already. He took her silence as an indicator that she was shivering in anxiety for a different reason than his touch.

"I heard Mama scream at the entrance. I didn't think anything else but the scream. Mama never screamed like that, so I immediately got worried. If I only knew that going back to that room was not only a bad idea, but the reason why she was killed, then things would have turned out differently. I don't know." She took a deep, shaky intake of breath and let it all out in a slow and deflating way. "The only thing I clearly remember after that was the knife in that man's hand, covered in Papa's blood; Papa was lying on the floor, his . . . his . . ." Orihime muffled a sob, wrapped her arms around herself, and shivered more strongly than before.

Ichigo didn't know what came over him, but seeing her so vulnerable and in desperate need for support, his arm instinctively coiled itself over her shoulders. She didn't shrug it away, but rather she welcomed it. He wasn't sure if Orihime was consciously aware of his arm over her shoulders, but she needed the comfort more than ever. He pulled her closer to his chest, and said, "It's okay," over and over, rocking her back and forth to let her relax.

"You don't need to tell me, Inoue," he whispered to her. "Don't force yourself to."

She shook her head as she buried it deeper into his chest. Her hands shifted away from her shoulders and onto Ichigo's hand, grasping it tight as if she didn't want him to ever let her go. "No," she said, "I have to. I need to. I—I have to stop running away from this. They're dead. All of them are. Mama. Papa. Onii-chan. Even my biological parents."

Biological parents? He was confused for a moment, but then the possibility of her being adopted came to him. Orihime had mentioned this to him before, but he never really thought much about its possibility of being true. But if that were true, then what Rukia speculated might be more correct than ever. But even with questions answered, it only left him with more new questions. One of them was quite prominent: If Orihime is a descendant of a shinigami, then how come she's alive?

The mysteries just piled up, and Ichigo couldn't figure all of them out. It was frustrating, to say the least, but there was still some progress. He was sure that maybe in due time they would find all the answers they sought and the shadows of whatever history that surrounds Orihime will finally shine in the light. He just hoped that nothing bad would befall upon them before everything was over.

And that was another question he needed an answer to: When will everything be over?

Derailing from his thoughts, he made it back in time to listen to Orihime continuing where she let off.

"Papa's right eye was missing. In its place was a red hole. His mouth was wide open like he was screaming in silence. There was just so much blood everywhere. The man rushed towards my mother, and when she saw me, she began to panic, telling me to go back to my room and lock my door. But I was rooted to the floor, holding onto my teddy bear like a desperate person clutching the last remaining pieces of her sanity. Back then, I didn't fully understand death and murder. But I still saw the fear in Mama's eyes and the glazed undamaged eye of Papa's. I didn't know what to do.

"Everything became black after that. When I came to, sirens were ringing in my ears. The police were already on their way. I felt wet and cold, and my wrists were stinging. I opened my eyes and saw Mama, sleeping . . . or so I first thought. I called out to her many times, but she didn't move or open her eyes. It was when I realized that my wrists were stinging because of the ropes wrapped around it. It was also when I realized that Mama had so much blood on her neck . . . a—and the deep gash."

She snuggled her face to his chest, dampening his shirt with her tears. He didn't mind in the slightest. Her left hand changed places, seeking refuge onto his back, which positioned her whole arm in a one-armed hug on him. He could feel her shiver more than ever; the sobs were almost nonexistent, not by sound but by movement. Ichigo was worried that she might be having a seizure.

"The killer was never found. My memory was so jumbled that I could not even remember his face at all. Their souls would've been able to communicate with me back then, but like Onii-chan, I cannot find them after their deaths. A few days later, Arisa and Akagi Inoue were laid to rest here. Year after year, Onii-chan and I would come here and pay our respects. He always said that Mama had saved me from being killed, but he never told me how. I had confessed to him that I felt afraid of coming here, that it was not because of horrible flashbacks or grief. I was afraid because I just was. I couldn't explain it to him at all. So when he died . . . I stopped visiting. Onii-chan was my anchor, the one who can keep me at ease even with the spiraling emotions invading every ounce of my being. I tried many times, but whenever I came close to this place, I hyperventilate and convulse. It was too much for me to bear."

Ichigo wiped away her tears and tightened their hug with each other. He wasn't sure if it helped, but he at least noticed that her shivers toned down tremendously from his actions alone.

"But because you're here I can visit them again."

"Inoue . . ."

"So you see, Kurosaki-kun, I do understand what you're going through. I go through it every year. I wanted to visit them and pay my respects, pray for them, but . . ." She shook her head. "I don't know why I can't. Is this grief or guilt I'm feeling? Is there a subconscious reason as to why my body is reacting violently to this place that I need someone like you or my brother to give me courage, no matter how tiny it is compared to the ache in my heart? Do you know, Kurosaki-kun?"

He said nothing.

"Please tell me if you know something."

". . . I've always blamed myself," he whispered. He closed his eyes, willing his mind to say everything outright. Orihime had revealed this much to him; it was only fair that he did the same. "Thinking that things could have gone differently if I hadn't tried to save a ghost."

Orihime peeled her face off his chest, revealing to him her unreadable eyes, which were slightly red from her crying. She didn't say anything. She only stared right into his eyes. It was okay for him, though. Her eyes weren't chocolate brown, but they were still entrancing to him. The difference was that he wasn't being sucked into them forcefully until he lost every trace of his control over his mentality. Those gray eyes of hers were calming him in a way, as if the world would end right here and now and he wouldn't really mind as long as he'd keep staring into those misty depths.

"My mother died because I was foolish. It was me who was supposed to drown on that canal that day, but she sacrificed her own life to save mine. And it was all because I wanted to save someone who was already dead."

"You saw a ghost?" she asked, her voice soft and empathic.

He nodded. "Back then, I didn't know the difference between the dead and the living yet, so I thought that it was just a young girl ready to jump to her death. I acted on instinct. All I thought about was saving that girl from jumping. The thought of what might happen to my mother never crossed my mind.

"And after her death, I keep asking myself, 'Why? I'm the reason why she died, so why isn't anyone blaming me?'" His vision blurred for a moment. He blinked rapidly and it returned to normal. "My family was never the same after Mom's death. We all had to grow up, in a sense; try to go on without her. We all faced our own trials, and everyone got through it . . . except me."

He felt her squeeze his hand, and he vaguely wondered if the roles had now reversed.

"While everyone in my family moved forward, I stayed behind, still grieving. I didn't think that I can move forward. There was just no way for me to forgive myself. Everything had been perfect before that day. We were all happy. But I was the one who took away that happiness, and day by day I still wonder why nobody had put the blame on me. It was my fault she died! It was my fault!"

"No, it wasn't!" she exclaimed.

Ichigo almost said You don't understand, but then realized that Orihime should understand him. So why was she saying that it wasn't his fault? Was she just trying to make him feel better? Try and put the blame on someone else?

"Your family doesn't blame you," she said, "I don't blame you, and I am certain that your mother doesn't blame you. I'm sure she had no regrets in saving your life, Kurosaki-kun. She loved you that much."

Ichigo bowed his head low, his eyes closed. His eyes were stinging, but he wasn't sure why they were.

"My brother said that nothing in this world could best a mother's love. If I were given a choice between my own life and that of my child, I would gladly give mine up. It's normal for all of us to grieve the death of our mother, but please, Kurosaki-kun, don't pin the entire burden on yourself."

With a shaky breath, Ichigo asked, "How do you cope with it, knowing that you played some part in her death?"

"I had blamed myself, too, because if I hadn't gone out of my room, then maybe—just maybe—my mother wouldn't have died. But Onii-chan told me otherwise. He told me that there was really no one to blame, and that I should just remember that Mama did the best she could to keep me from harm."

"I don't know if I can forgive myself, Inoue. I just don't know." He saw something wet hit the pavement. Was it raining again? He checked the sky, but only saw few clouds that were as white as cotton. He checked his face with his hand and found his right cheek wet. It was a lone tear.

"Then we'll take it slowly. You've helped me so much today, Kurosaki-kun. Without you here I would not have been able to visit my parents again. You've helped me overcome my fears and grief, so the only way that I can repay you for this is to help you overcome yours."

"Inoue . . ."

"We'll get through this together, Kurosaki-kun." She tightened her hug, and he basked in her warmth. It seemed he needed this. "I won't leave you alone."

Ichigo only nodded, hoping that his emotions wouldn't get the best of him. That lone tear was enough of a sign that he was letting them out of control. This may be a time of grief, but there was no more need to cry. He had Orihime for help, and he now had faith that his mom was watching over them, probably smiling that he was ready to take that necessary step forward.

But he was also afraid. He was afraid that if he were to take each step towards the place of acceptance, he would start to forget all about Masaki. His memories of her were the only things left he had of her. He didn't want to lose them. But looking into Orihime's understanding gray eyes, his fear dissipated in an instant. Whatever the future would bring him, he would have to face it inevitably. And at least he won't have to walk this road alone; he finally understood now. He still had his dad, his sisters, his friends—Tatsuki, Chad, Keigo, Mizuiro, Orihime. They were still with him here in this world.

His grief may be strong, but his commitment with each of them, the connection they created for each other, was stronger. He and Orihime both had the feeling that this will not be an easy road, but it was the only way for them to move forward. The past was now in the past, and the ghosts of their depression quivered as they promised each other this:

There may be tough trials ahead, but they will never back down. They will see it all through to the end.

---

Rukia was soaked. Completely and utterly soaked, but she didn't care. There were matters of the utmost importance she had to do, and worrying about the health of her gigai was the least on her mind. She stood in front of the Urahara Shop, listing all the questions she would need to ask the enigmatic salesman. She had kept her cell phone dry and live inside her pocket, making sure to cover it with her thick handkerchief, which was thankfully unaffected by the rain earlier today. Now she brought it out and already set it in the picture gallery. Everything was set. The only thing left to do was take that final step.

"Urahara!" she called. The place was devoid of any people in the front, but she knew for a fact that the blond wouldn't leave this place unchecked without a good reason. "I know you're in here."

She heard a very audible yawn from the back of the store, so audible that she was certain that it was a fake yawn Urahara deliberately did for an added effect for his entrance. How annoying.

"Who is it?" Urahara asked, wiping the sleep off his eyes. When those same eyes met the form of a wet and scowling Rukia Kuchiki, he looked nervous. "Why Kuchiki-san! Is there something you need?"

"Quite so, Urahara. I have questions that need answers, and it seems only you have them."

Urahara looked confused. "Why me?"

"Because it somehow concerns the discussion we had prior to this."

His eyes widened immensely, then narrowed down as he scrutinized her. "What are you saying?"

Rukia zoomed in on one of the images of the black-masked Hollow on the screen of her cell phone and showed it to him. "Mind telling me what this altered Hollow is doing in the cemetery around noon today?"

He took the phone from her hands and examined the picture. His eyes were still narrowed—an expression Rukia rarely saw from the shopkeeper—and she could see that they move with quick bursts, as if he intended to memorize every bit of detail in that one little picture. She heard a BEEP from the phone. Urahara must've moved to another picture. That wasn't a cause for alarm, but what he said next was.

"Brown eyes," he murmured.

Rukia flinched, but thankfully he didn't notice. Or he might have noticed from his peripheral vision, but decided not to comment on it—yet.

"From what I remembered back then, I was certain Miss Inoue had gray eyes."

"She does," Rukia admitted, seeing that there was no point in hiding the truth anymore. Though she had told the shopkeeper that Orihime was the target of her 'descendant of a shinigami' theory, what she didn't tell him about was the girl's alter-ego. She knew it was unwise to do so, for Urahara might have some answers to Orihime's bipolarity, and that's an emphasis on might because she really wasn't sure whether Urahara could take this as seriously as she was. The matter was that this secret research didn't concern him at all, and she was only using him for reference and additional information. The thought of a shinigami having an alter-ego would intrigue him, sure enough, but Rukia didn't want to trust him with this bit of info. But now that the secret was inevitably out, might as well go full out but keep some more private matters to herself. Rukia almost blushed when the image of Orihime's alter-ego making Ichigo 'feel her up' (if her modern vocabulary was to be correct) flashed in her mind.

"Is this her evil twin sister?" he asked innocently, though Rukia was certain that the guy was not taking this seriously and joking around instead.

Trying to keep her patience as strong and impenetrable as possible lest she'd snap and shout at Urahara to give her proper answers, she sighed and shook her head. "That's really Inoue-san."

She then explained to Urahara the existence of Orihime's alter-ego, Emi.

"Emi . . ." he murmured, then examined the picture on the phone's screen again. His eyes were no longer narrow, but his facial expression showed him pondering something deeply, as if the answers he was seeking lay inside the confines of his old memories. "Hmm . . . an evil persona of sorts. That is a pretty fitting term for it."

"Enough digressing, Urahara. I need answers and it does not involve Inoue-san or this Emi person. Now what do you know about that black-masked Hollow?"

His expression turned grim as his gaze lingered on the picture awhile. "This Hollow has been altered artificially by someone," he said simply, devoid of emotion, monotonous in every aspect.

"Who?" Rukia questioned.

"I only know of the process of this alteration. The culprit of this act is unknown to even me, even if I do have my suspicions on a particular someone."

"And who is this 'someone,' Urahara?" She crossed her arms, found that it was uncomfortable due to how wet she still was, and dropped back to her sides. "That person may or may not be involved in this. That person is already a danger to Soul Society and must be brought to justice."

"If only it were that easy, Kuchiki-san. He is a much respected man by all the people. He manipulates Soul Society like it was in the palm of his hand. It's all there for his taking, and without anyone to interfere. I doubt that people would believe me with such scarce evidence. They sure didn't believe me back then."

"Okay, so our evidence is minimal. But if I were to continue my investigation, then I might find enough to break a fair amount of disbelief from them all."

Urahara shook his head. "That's an ill decision, Kuchiki-san. You'll only get yourself killed."

"I don't die that easily," she replied defiantly.

"Then they will torture you slowly," he answered back, shocking her somewhat. "These creatures have something that resembles the caste system of long ago. To them, the stronger and completer they are, the higher they rank in their little society. What you encountered is classified as the 'bottom' race. Clearly the weakest of the weak. I take it that young Kurosaki-kun had trouble fighting this kind of Hollow?"

"No, he never engaged combat with it. Only Emi did." Rukia wanted to ask him about what he meant about 'completer,' but decided to leave that for later.

"I see. She's quite strong."

"Well, I don't care what you say, Urahara. I'll be continuing my investigations from here on out. This creature is no doubt a threat to not only the Material World but also Soul Society, and if I'm mistaken from what I heard you say, then there are more of these creatures. It is in my duty as a shinigami to not withhold this information to my superiors, therefore nothing you say to persuade me otherwise will work."

He looked grave, but conceded to her determination. "Very well. I'll tell you all that I know about these Hollows, but is it okay if I ask you first about Emi? I want to clarify one last thing."

Rukia hesitated, but nodded in the end.

"Did you find anything peculiar other than the whole eye-color change?"

She thought about it deeply. "The only other strange thing I've seen was her regenerative abilities."

"Elaborate," he requested.

"Inoue-san—or rather, Emi—sustained two scratches during her fight with the altered Hollow. It formed an X on her left forearm. But after the battle, I noticed that it slowly healed until no mark was left. There was no scar to indicate that she had been injured."

He nodded, looking satisfied. "Another mystery solved. Oh boy." He shook his head in amusement.

"Pray tell what this solved mystery is, Urahara."

"It does not concern the topic about the Hollow, and like you I am making my own investigations—though research may be a more appropriate word for it. Anyway, why don't we start with our discussion about the Hollow?"

She nodded, and entered the back of the shop when Urahara motioned for her to do so. Though she was a little disturbed on what his research would entail and what it has to do with Orihime's alter-ego, she needed to take priority on learning more about this new threat. When she sat down on the floor next to the table, Urahara handed her a towel, and she used it to at least dry some parts of her faux body. Maybe it would be more comfortable if she were to revert to her spirit form, but decided against it.

"Where are your employees?" Rukia asked, realizing that it was only her and Urahara, since he was also making tea by himself. Usually it'd be Tessai or Ururu doing that chore.

"Fixing some minor bugs at our little playground in the basement," he answered. "Nothing to worry about." He sat down on the spot opposite her. The round low-end table was the only thing that divided them from each other. "Do you have any preference as to where I should start?"

"The name," she answered immediately. "I'm sure that these creatures have a name."

"Indeed they do. Each race has their own name, but all of them except the 'nobles,' for lack of a better term, were given a general name. The creature that you encountered was one of those weak races. And they are known simply as the Lückenhaft."

---

Kisuke Urahara sighed heavily a minute or two after Rukia Kuchiki left the shop. Throughout his explanation of the Lückenhaft threat, he was on-guard about certain information that must not be revealed to her. What he told her were already dark secrets that no one but the worthy—or foolish—must know about, so there was no need for deep elaborations on some parts. He had a large amount of knowledge concerning those black-masked Hollows, and it was all because of his questionable researches. And from what he learned during those years was that the Lückenhaft strive to being in the shadows, literally and figuratively. Not only do those low-class Lückenhaft shroud themselves inside a cloak of shadows, the whole society of the Lückenhaft likes to have their existence secret. Anyone with actual knowledge of their existence, they terminate with deadly force. He was surprised he had gone on for this long without any of those black-masked Hollows coming after him for knowing too much about them.

Urahara would have felt like he was taking Rukia straight into the chopping block if he had told her everything in more detail. But her life was already in danger no matter how much he'd try to hide things from her. He just figured it would be easier if she were to know what she was up against rather than charge in without knowing her enemy thoroughly. Hopefully, she wouldn't get herself into a situation that will most likely get herself killed. It would be very troublesome if she did.

But then his thoughts changed rails, as his mind was flooded with memories of the past. He once had a friend with an 'evil persona' like Orihime Inoue. He has his speculations over a few things, but the mystery was completely solved when Urahara had met the girl for the first time during the whole Mod Soul fiasco.

She had the same color and shade of gray eyes as her father.

"Who knew you had it in you, Spaceman," he murmured, using the old nickname he gave that person back when they were shinigami in Soul Society. Spaceman used to call him Buckethead in retaliation. The latter nickname was coined because of a particular embarrassing incident involving Urahara, Yoruichi, and a box of kitty litter. He had avoided Yoruichi for a week after that incident. And he really didn't want to remember that incident at all.

"Manager, is everything all right up here?" It was Tessai. He was halfway out of the entrance to the basement. "I've heard you talking to someone in the back for a while. I didn't want to disturb you, so I didn't make my presence known."

"It was just Kuchiki-san," Urahara said, fanning himself with his fan, looking a little more relaxed than he was before. "She came to ask me questions of something she wanted to investigate."

"The Lückenhaft threat?"

Urahara nodded gravely, though he made a mental note to have a talk with Tessai for eavesdropping on private conversations. "But we shouldn't worry that much. If I'm not mistaken, then the daughter will surely follow the footsteps of her father."

"A daughter? I never knew that your old friend had any children."

"He actually had two, though he said that he only knew his eldest child for only three years until the day he died. At least that's from what I remember him saying to me about his life before becoming a shinigami. Do you think I'm starting to go senile, Tessai?"

"Probably."

". . . I was hoping for some comforting words, not a harsh one."

"I was only being truthful of my opinion, Manager."

Urahara sighed and closed his fan. "If only we can be as truthful as you, Tessai. If only."

"Does she share it?"

He nodded. "At least now we know that it is hereditary. Orihime showed the same signs of having the 'evil persona' as her father. Though I'm sure that this inheritance of power is filtered through the combination of material and spiritual molecules that it somehow nullified most of the worst aspects of having the 'persona.' God knows how much trouble Spaceman's 'persona' had been to him."

"Maybe, but that's only speculation."

"Indeed, my friend." He closed his eyes. "But let's just hope that it's correct. I might not be strong enough to defeat her without killing her outright. And that's the last thing I want to happen."

Outside, it began to rain again.

---

Chapter Afterword:

I ran into some trouble about Orihime's cup size. Since I'm a guy, I have no way to tell what her size is, though I do admit that her slim figure kind of accentuates her bust. I researched bra measurements and concluded on some of my findings (I went so far as to measure my own underbust, embarrassing as it was). At least I learned something informative from this research—and it's not just my underbust, thank you very much. You know, in hindsight, there wasn't really a recommendation for me to state Orihime's cup size, but I guess that's just how my muse works. Once I let it go on a particular concept, she just gets too stubborn for me to argue with her and win it. She demanded it, I must deliver it. Does anybody have their own opinions (or speculations) as to what Orihime's actual cup size is?

The canon universe never really elaborated on who Orihime and Sora's parents were, only that Sora ran away with Orihime—when she was only three years old—to get away from their abusive tendencies. They lived together while their parents did not even bother taking them back. When Sora died, Orihime had to take care of herself alone, but at least she had help from some relatives, who gave her a monthly allowance to pay the rent and to buy food and stuff. In this universe, I wanted a change of pace to create a more desirable atmosphere and character development for Orihime. I also wanted a bit of closure concerning her adoptive parents, too.

Oh, and if anybody else is probably wondering. Lückenhaft is a German word. It means 'Incomplete,' from what I can gather.