Date written: 09/05/10 – 25/05/10

Posted on FanFiction: 28/05/10

A/N: You know, in hindsight, it is actually kind of hard trying to do three stories at one time. So much so that procrastination seems to remedy the accumulating stress (which is not solely caused by writing and plotting). Regardless, I'm back with another chapter. Though I got to say that the real action starts next chapter. But sometimes the story must take into account the whole picture than concentrate on a particular spot. There wouldn't be proper character development otherwise.

- CHAPTER 26 -

The World Without Her

Rukia Kuchiki.

It seemed alien to her ears. Before she set foot in the Human World as a shinigami, she was always known as the proud and quiet adopted member of the Kuchiki clan. She didn't make the rules, but she followed them as if they were her lifelines. Pondering over the dramatic change of her self in just two months' time, she wondered where she went wrong. She did what she thought and felt was right, and in retaliation, Fate deemed it a good punishment from Soul Society was in order. She never intended to give Ichigo all of her powers, and if she hadn't a team would more likely find the last traces of her spiritual signature before changing her MIA status to KIA. If given the chance to change the past, she would've been unsure how to proceed. The chance was tempting, but what to do with it was the final verdict, and if she had no clue what to change then the opportunity would most likely be lost.

So there she walked along the maze corridor of Seireitei, with Renji Abarai and Byakuya Kuchiki on her flanks. Shinigami idling around these corridors turned to look at her, betrayal and disdain mixed into their sneers. They must've heard about her crimes already, which she found odd because she didn't even get to defend her actions.

How good would that do, really?

No, no good would come of it, but at least she should warn everyone about the new mutated Hollows she had seen before she came back here, regardless that her research on the Lückenhaft came up with nothing but the pictures she had taken in the Karakura cemetery. All the proof she needed was in the memory stick she had in her backpack. She didn't expect a cut in her sentence or at least a few additional days of life before her execution. All she wanted was to let Soul Society know about their existence.

"Why'd you do it?"

The question derailed her thoughts. She looked at Renji, unsure about what he meant.

"Why did you let a human have all your powers, Rukia?"

She didn't have an answer for that. But it seemed Renji took her silence as an answer in and of itself, and didn't ask anything further. They came to the Fourth Division barracks where she was certain her temporary prison resided, and Renji and Nii-sama took their leave once she was ushered into a room where her soul was removed from the gigai she had been inhabiting. Left with nothing to wear but a white kimono, somehow signifying her stripped shinigami powers, a few Fourth Squad volunteers escorted her to her prison cell. With guards as harmless as shinigami from the Fourth Squad, it would've been easy to flee but Rukia wasn't foolish. People were watching her every move until she was inside her cell, watching for any attempt of escaping. Doing so would just add more ammunition for the Chamber 46 bureaucrats to fire at her case.

Stepping into the gloomy cell with only a chair and a cot for furniture, she faced her escorts and asked where they were taking her gigai.

A boy with droopy eyes and chin-length black hair answered her: "Two officers from the Twelfth Division came to retrieve it. They said something about 'researching the anomalous energy resonating from it,' I think."

"And of the bag my gigai carried?"

The boy's reply made Rukia's stomach sink. "When that guy from Twelfth Division lifted the gigai onto a gurney, he ordered his partner to strip it bare and destroy all the clothes and items, including the bag."

His sleep was troubled, more so when the memories of what happened before he slept invaded the forefront of his mind. This led to involuntarily murmurs while staying unconscious. When he had gotten a good grip on the waking world, he pulled himself through the door between the worlds of real and dreams. There was no fog to hide the one person he had been dreaming of.

"Rukia!" Ichigo didn't sit up when he shouted. And it was a lucky call, too, because he would've headbutted some guy's face staring down mere inches away from him. It took another second to realize the last part, but he reacted the way anyone would have when they woke up like that: screamed his head off.

He pushed the man away, and the man did not resist. He was a tall dark-skinned man, with a noticeable pointed mustache and horn-rimmed glasses. His face would've gotten a below average to plain average in the intimidation scale; a far cry to what his size rated. This guy was as tall as Chad.

The man adjusted his thick glasses, and then said, "Your reaction time hasn't diminished, and you responded accordingly to your body's fight or flight response."

"Where the heck am I?" Ichigo questioned before taking the time to examine the room. He was sure he met this guy before . . . ah! "You're that big dude who's with the sandal-hat guy?"

"Memories fully intact. No harmful side effects at all," the man murmured, scribbling into a notepad he snatched from his apron's pocket. "Though remembering names is still a challenge for him. Again, my name is Tessai, Ichigo-dono."

"Uh, yeah." He didn't know what to say exactly. "I'll be sure to remember this time."

"Be sure you do. It would be a pain to remind you something as simple as a name every time."

Ichigo wasn't sure if he was looking into his sentence too deeply, but he could swear that that sentence implied he was dumb. His eyes traveled all over the room, realizing that he was once again inside the room where Orihime's body, Tatsuki, and Chad had been resting after that fiasco with the giant Hollow, this time with only one futon laid out on the floor than three.

He stood up, or at least tried to. Tessai's hands gripped his shoulders, pushing him back down while sliding him back to the futon. "Don't move too much, Ichigo-dono. Stay right here while I go and fetch the manager. He wants to talk to you."

Tessai stepped out.

Ichigo didn't like the idea of lying around and waiting, so he began rethinking of what happened before he passed out. His hand went to his chest, clutching the white fabric of his shirt. It was a little late to realize, but it seemed he had been moved back into his human body, and he had been wearing his usual nightwear. That was not the really weird thing he was thinking right now. The place where he was clutching had been the wound that man—Byakuya Kuchiki, Rukia's brother—had given him. It had been a fatal one, yet when he checked his bare chest there was no bandage wrapped around it or at least a scar—it would've definitely left something like that.

"I see you're up and about, Kurosaki-san," the sandal-hat guy said from the opened door. "Tell me, how do you feel?"

"Like I haven't been in a battle for my life," he replied stiffly, his mind more on his failure to save Rukia.

Sandal-hat entered the room, leaving the door open. His expression was of the devil-may-care kind, a face Ichigo he had seen on him most of the time, as if this whole affair was more of an entertainment than a crisis to him.

"Oh yeah, did you happen to see Ishida as well? He's injured too."

"The Quincy is fine, Kurosaki-san." Sandal-hat opened his fan and covered half of his face with it like a shy geisha. "His wounds weren't severe, so I doubt he'd die until another two days. Orihime-san healed him on the spot and he went on his way."

"Inoue healed Ishida?" It must've been that kidou thing Rukia had been teaching her, he thought, not realizing that it was more than that.

Sandal-hat ignored the interruption. "He did say some parting words to Orihime-san, though. You should ask her about that."

"Were you the one who healed me?" Ichigo asked.

"Not really," the blond man admitted. "I only carried you here where you can recuperate properly. Lying on the wet pavement during a July rain is a good way to catch a cold, you know."

"Where is she now?"

"In the next room, playing some video games with the children."

That didn't seem as unexpected as Ichigo would've thought.

"She looks quite cute in that yukata I let her wear, too," sandal-hat commented, most likely grinning behind that fan. Ichigo had the sudden urge to beat the guy until he was black and blue.

"Kurosaki-kun?"

The new arrival had his attention, and he couldn't avoid having his jaw drop down to the floor when he gazed upon what sandal-hat had been talking about. It looked like a yukata, but he had never seen one where the bottom part ended at the middle of one's thighs. The rest of her legs weren't bare, however. Orihime also had on a pair of white stockings with frills. The yukata itself was a nice match for Orihime's hair, which had been done into a cute ponytail while leaving her forelocks as they were. It was basically a pink summer kimono with a green inner collar and a similarly colored ribbon attached to the back of an orange obi. The designs of the yukata were slightly complex, but the combination of imprinted flowers—some having red and blue checkered fillings—and the multitude of assorted mono-colored rainbows gave the impression of summer at its finest. Not even mentioning the fact that Orihime's name is tied to a summer festival that had occurred just a week ago.

"Ah, Orihime-san, how's the yukata?" sandal-hat asked. The urge to bash him to a pulp had increased fivefold, but Ichigo calmed himself before he raised his fist.

He averted his eyes from the girl, the blush on his cheeks the only sign of his embarrassment. "What the hell are you wearing, Inoue?"

"Eh? Oh, you mean this?"

Ichigo did not look, only nodded his head, thinking Orihime was pointing at her outfit.

"Well, my clothes got wet when we were in the rain, and I could've gone back to my apartment and changed, but I didn't want to leave you. So Urahara-san suggested I wear this yukata his friend was going to wear for the Obon festival tomorrow night."

"And you're not the least bit embarrassed about it?" he asked incredulously. He knew Orihime could be a ditz, but . . . surely she'd understand that wearing something as provocative as that—

"No, not at all. Should I be?"

Emi. Emi was probably the cause of her lack of shame. Damn her!

"Hey, sandal-hat, is her eyes . . .?" He gestured his own eyes, swirling his fingers for added effect and emphasis.

"Perfectly gray eyes. I would've thought that Orihime-san had gotten used to wearing the yukata after a few hours of wearing it. Wouldn't you be?"

You think I'd be comfortable wearing a summer kimono for girls, ya sicko?

"What kind of friend do you have exactly?" he asked the blond man, pointing at Orihime's general direction. Specifically, he was pointing at her yukata.

"The . . . uh, very outgoing type, you might say." Sandal-hat laughed nervously. "She's always been like that ever since we were kids."

Childhood friends, huh? If this woman were as old and as eccentric as the sandal-hat guy, Ichigo believed it was best that he never got the chance to meet her.

"Where is she anyway?" Orihime asked the shopkeeper. "I want to thank her for lending me her yukata for tonight."

"I don't know. She's kind of shy around strangers."

Ichigo instantly knew the guy was bullshitting. He first described her as outgoing, and then shy? And with such a revealing and moe outfit Orihime was wearing, that was the final nail in the coffin. Though that left Orihime's question open for answers, if Orihime figured out the contradiction in sandal-hat's descriptions of the yukata's owner. Sadly, she didn't, and sandal-hat grinned behind his fan. Again.

Satisfied by the blond's answer—an outright lie like Ichigo had ever seen one—Orihime sat beside Ichigo. She looked serious and remorseful, as if someone were pinning the blame on her. "Kurosaki-kun," she started, taking a deep breath before continuing, "Ishida-kun asked me to tell you this: get better."

Like a doctor telling a man that he was pregnant, Ichigo had no idea how to react or even interpret what had been said. The way it was said, thinking that it actually came out of Uryuu Ishida's mouth, it sounded off. Completely out of character would be a better word for it, but then again, he had only started getting to know Ishida a few days ago. That kind of thinking was too judgmental.

Still, he was curious and wished for an elaboration.

Orihime said, "After I healed Ishida-kun, he said that the only one who has a chance to rescue Kuchiki-san from Soul Society . . . is you. He believes that Kuchiki-san can still be saved, but the person who would be there for her, the one strong enough to defeat all enemies, was not him."

Ichigo looked down, hands clenching, teeth gritting. "I'm the only one, huh?" he repeated sarcastically. "What does he think I could do?" He punched the futon hard, startling Orihime. "Rukia had already been taken to Soul Society! How the fuck does Ishida think that I can go there when I don't even have a goddamn inkling of what to do? As far as I figured, Rukia is far out of our reach now."

"Actually she isn't," sandal-hat interjected. "There is another way for you and others"—he looked at Orihime—"to enter Soul Society. I can do that."

"You can?" Ichigo stood up from the futon. "Well then, what are we waiting for? We need to go there now."

"I wouldn't advise it, Kurosaki-san."

"Rukia is about to executed while we're all just standing here and doing nothing. We're only wasting time!"

Faster than he could blink, he found himself pinned to the ground, with sandal-hat's cane inches away from making contact with his forehead. It would've looked harmless, but the presence the cane started to give out intimidated him, as if it were saying 'I can kill you if I wished it, and right now I'm demanding it.' It didn't feel like an ordinary cane anymore; this intimidating aura around it was more akin to the feel of a blade ready and willing to pierce his head.

"Let me finish," sandal-hat said, the fan gone and his devil-may-care persona momentarily nonexistent. He was all business this time. "I wouldn't advise you to go to Soul Society without preparing yourself. I didn't interfere with your fight because I wanted you to realize your limit."

So the blond guy was there when he had his ass whooped. With the cane still lingering above his face and emitting that anxiety-filling aura, he stayed quiet and let sandal-hat continue.

"Standing here and doing nothing? Wasting time? Don't make me laugh, fool. To attack the shinigami in Soul Society—their home base of operation, might I add—is nothing but suicidal. You didn't last ten seconds with a captain-level shinigami; what can you possibly hold up against twelve others?"

"Then what do you want me to do?" he asked quietly, eyes closed and hands clenched.

Sandal-hat moved away from him. "Ten days," he said.

"Huh?" Orihime and Ichigo said at the same time.

"In ten days, I will be training you and Orihime-san all that you need to know to survive your rescue operation. The standard operating procedure for a captured prisoner in Soul Society is a one month probation before they are executed. So you see, we have plenty of time to prepare. All I ask from you two is ten days. By then, you'll be ready."

"Uhm," Orihime uttered, pausing for a bit before saying, "what will you be teaching us?"

He smiled. And Ichigo rather liked it better when he had the fan covering it. "Apart from getting Kurosaki-san to regain his shinigami powers? That's for me to know and for you two to find out."

The next day, Ichigo went to school without problems from last night's injuries. It took him by surprise that Orihime did not use kidou but a different source of spiritual healing to help him with his wounds. She explained most of what she knew about the Shun Shun Rika that night, even the suspicion that they must have belonged to her biological mother. But at the end, it just left him with more questions.

Moving aside Orihime's suspected lineage for now, he pondered over the offer sandal-hat made. He made it specifically clear that he would not be teaching them unless both were in on this together. Sandal-hat elaborated that he had been watching Orihime for quite some time ever since Rukia told him about her dark persona, Emi. As time went on, he discovered that Emi was getting a better grasp of taking over, and not long after become the dominant side of her psyche. Since Emi is a part of Orihime's soul, there was no way she could be removed, only suppressed. So Orihime had no choice to but to join Ichigo's training because this was also a matter of not being overtaken by her alter-ego.

All of it just made Ichigo want to give up on trying to shield Orihime all the time. Whether it was by her rotten luck or being a natural danger-magnet, he could only soften the blow than prevent it. At that point, he left Orihime alone to make her decision. Sandal-hat wasn't asking for an answer right away, but the deadline would be tonight. It was either they both show up at seven at the shop or they leave Rukia to her cruel fate.

He hadn't spoken to Orihime since they parted ways last night. He wanted her to have the whole night and morning to think over what she was getting herself into. It would be dangerous and most probably life-threatening, but he didn't want to sway her into making the choice he wanted her to take. Having a near death experience made him reflect his past actions, and he realized that no matter what he'd say, Orihime would still be there, behind him or beside him, seeing their ordeal through like true comrades. She didn't want to be treated like fragile glass. Ichigo would do that if she really wished it.

As he entered the classroom, he glanced at the seat Rukia once occupied. Now it was being used by some other student whose name escapes him. His half-closed eyes, tired from the little sleep he had last night, gaze upon each head of his classmates arrived as early as he did. His usual time for school was a half-hour before the first bell; today he arrived an hour and a half before the first bell.

He took his seat without a word. Keigo hadn't come to school yet, so it was pretty much quiet and uneventful. The only students who came as early as he did were the ones who have morning practices. Needless to say, he was the odd sight of the morning, being part of the Go-Home club, but most of the others paid little attention to him. Thank God for small favors. He wasn't in the talking mood to anyone other than Orihime.

The minutes ticked on while Ichigo decided to spend most of what time he had before the start of homeroom by staring at the sky, watching the clouds. That didn't take too long, though; he got bored with the same scenery. He was not really into cloud watching, anyway. The door to the classroom slid open a few times, signifying the arrival of more of his classmates, but it seemed none of them were of his friends. Or so he thought. He heard a chair slid back and a muffled thud, the sound of a student's handbag resting on a desk. This should be familiar to him and should have been distorted by the amount of ambient sounds coming from his talkative classmates, but it carried to his ears like an echo bouncing around the walls of a deep cavern.

Ichigo looked over his shoulder, saw Orihime in her seat. They locked eyes, neither displaying what they really wanted the other to see, and Orihime closed hers before giving a friendly wave. She turned away then and didn't see Ichigo's perplexed face. He wanted to talk to her about Rukia, but now was not the time. It was too crowded now, and they'd barely say everything out in just one sitting. There was no choice but to wait until lunchtime.

"Good morning, Ichi—"

"Not in the mood!"

Ichigo had the mental image of bashing Keigo's head on his desk, but he swept it away. That would be too violent, even for him. Snapping at him first thing in the morning was a rare occurrence in and of itself, and it was also a sign that Ichigo should not be approached while in his foul mood. Keigo had to learn that the hard way once, going so far as to comment that "Ichigo is as scary as my sister during her period." Keigo survived; by then, Chad restrained him before he could lash out at him for making such an insulting remark.

Keigo reacted as intended. He backed away slowly to his seat, "Yes, Ichigo-sama. Let this peasant be out of your sight in no time."

"That's quite mean of you, Ichigo," Tatsuki said after placing her bag at her seat. "You don't seem to be in the best of moods this morning."

No shit.

"Did something happen?" she asked.

For a moment, he looked towards Rukia's former seat before sighing through his nose. He looked back at Tatsuki and said, "It's nothing. Don't worry yourself about it."

"If you say so." There was a few seconds of silence before she added, "Kuchiki didn't come with you today."

Ichigo stiffened. Tatsuki noticed.

"Something did happen," she declared.

"Yes, Tatsuki, something happened." From the corner of his eye, he saw Orihime rising off her seat. "And if you don't want to get incredulous stares from our classmates today, I suggest you don't mention her name at all."

Tatsuki arched an eyebrow, understandably confused at his suggestion. "Why?"

"Because they won't remember her," Orihime answered for him. She nodded at him once before looking back at their mutual friend. "Kuchiki-san committed a crime and Soul Society arrested her last night."

Tatsuki stared at her, then at him, and then at her again. She opened her mouth and said a word which left both orangeheads stunned: "Bullshit?"

Ichigo was reminded of a time when he and Tatsuki were in middle school, and some upper-classman loudly declared his love for her. It would've been a nice confession if the guy took the time to get his timing and place right. Shouting out "I love you, Tatsuki Arisawa! Please go out with me!" in the middle of a busy hallway while Ichigo was accompanying Tatsuki to the cafeteria was a recipe for disaster. Tatsuki, in her very stunned and mortified state, could only utter that one word she just said right now.

And like what he had said to her back then, he replied, "Doesn't look like it, no." The upper-classman had walked away heartbroken when she rejected him.

"But . . . ho—wha—?" Tatsuki stammered.

"Tatsuki-chan, can we just continue this at lunch?" Orihime asked. She seemed to have concluded the same thing Ichigo did. Good, less explanations to be made.

Tatsuki nodded. "Here I thought things would settle down after what happened to us two days ago."

Orihime didn't comment. She was saving her words for lunchtime.

The two went back to their respective seats, leaving Ichigo alone to his own devices. He scanned the room again, trying to listen in on his classmates' conversations, wanting to hear it with his own ears that they forgot all about Rukia; surely some of the boys would make a bit of a fuss with what's-his-name currently sitting in her seat. He heard none a single word about Rukia. Their Homeroom teacher entered a short while later and took today's class attendance. She said something about a surprise announcement she'd be making at the end of school, and that they should all prepare for it. Ichigo didn't care one way or another; more important things were swirling in his head right now. And because of this, he barely listened to any of the lessons for today.

He was eager for lunch to arrive.

Orihime noticed that Ishida's empty seat halfway through first period. It made her worry, but it was not her business to find out why he skipped; regardless, she already had a good idea about his reason. Her eyes panned towards the back of the man she had a crush on. It caused a pang in her heart to see Ichigo look so down in the dumps, as if the world betrayed him for an insignificant reason. Her hand slipped into her bag, grasping at the thing she had planned on giving him later on. She wanted things between them to improve, and she had bought this item around a week ago, back when everything hadn't turned complicated yet. The previous week seemed more like a dream or a time in her life that happened a thousand years ago. They were both fitting metaphors.

Lunchtime came.

She was half-tempted to take the item from her bag and give it to Ichigo, but the timing was not right. When they were done eating, their conversations would have to turn to a very serious topic, and interrupting it with just a simple thing as giving Ichigo a gift didn't seem right in Orihime's eyes. After school, maybe?

Carrying her lunch for today, she grabbed Tatsuki and Ichigo, and dragged them to the roof. She told them that lunch takes precedence to any other thing they have to tackle. She expected Ichigo to retort negatively to her idea, but he decided to be submissive this time and went along with her plan. Tatsuki, being crowded by the majority, gave in easily. Their subsequent lunch was a quiet affair, something Orihime found disconcerting, like they were a trio of death row inmates having their final meal before they walked the green mile. She tried to liven up the tense atmosphere, but nothing really progressed further than deflating the tension to a tolerable level. At least for her.

They were the only students on the roof today. Keigo probably warned others that Ichigo Kurosaki was in a bad mood and was eating lunch here. Ichigo and Tatsuki looked nonplussed about this development, so Orihime had to give in to the majority than go with her feelings and try to defend Ichigo's honor. Besides, more pressing matters were at hand. Their seclusion for this hour was good; nothing would be holding them back for the whole recount of last night.

Tatsuki listened attentively to their story, how Rukia ran away, got captured, played the damsel in distress only to refuse help because it seemed that the shinigami were only after her and Ichigo's death.

"And they just left without another glance?" Tatsuki questioned once Orihime rounded up the rest of the night with their staying over Urahara's shop. With separate rooms, of course.

Orihime nodded. "I think they only came for Kuchiki-san."

"But they stated clearly that they wanted me dead," Ichigo interjected. "They expected me to die from the wounds Rukia's brother gave me." His hand touched the spot on his chest where he felt the most searing pain last night.

"They must've gotten overconfident, I think," Tatsuki theorized. "I mean, if these shinigami are so much the hotshots that Urahara-san and Kuchiki made them out to be, then they must've been underestimating your abilities." She pointed at Orihime. She came to this conclusion because she had his fair share of encountering chauvinist martial artists in tournaments who think they were all superior . . . right before she clobbered them onto the mat and took the win.

"Could be," Orihime agreed. "Or it might've been because Kurosaki-kun's wound was nothing but fatal, and they probably thought that my attempts would be wasted."

"I guess it was fortunate they left before you finished healing me," Ichigo said, although there was something in his eyes that Orihime couldn't really identify. Regret, maybe? Anger?

"Fact remains is that this Soul Society believes that you have died," Tatsuki said. "And I'm sure you two can use it to your advantage if you get Kuchiki back."

"When we rescue Rukia back," Ichigo corrected with conviction.

Orihime nodded vigorously. "And we will."

"So what's the plan?" Tatsuki asked. "You're not just gonna go over there and cause a ruckus, right?"

"Urahara-san said that Kuchiki-san will stay alive for another twenty-nine days," Orihime said.

"Something about preparing her for her execution," Ichigo added.

"So you still got around a month before she gets beheaded, huh? Definitely a lot of time."

"We won't be coming to school after today," Ichigo said, to which Orihime nodded. "We have to train as early as possible."

"I wish I could help you guys," Tatsuki said. She rubbed her hair, as if she were combing it. She still couldn't see ghosts, and her reiatsu had reverted into that of an average human's. Maybe if she had been given the time to develop these powers before she was forced to use it on that day, it would've stayed with her up till now.

Orihime smiled at her friend, snaking one arm over her shoulder and pulling her into a hug. "Just give us your support, and we'll be fine with that. Ne, Kurosaki-kun?"

"Yeah."

A black cat, perched on top of the roof's access door, listened to them quietly. It was glad to see that the two teens who'd be going after Rukia Kuchiki were dead-set on their goal. Urahara should be pleased.

By the time their final period ended, Ochi-sensei went into the class before any of the students could start fixing up the contents of their bags so they could go home. She stood behind the podium, lips splitting into the Cheshire cat's grin.

"Time for that little announcement, kiddies," she said. "Here's a little pop quiz, first."

Everyone groaned.

"Sensei, it's already after school!" one of them said.

"We've just gotten through three quizzes consecutively. Can't we take a break?" another said indignantly.

"The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you all can go home," was Ochi-sensei's answer. The class quieted down. "Question number one: Why did all the teachers give out your summer homework early?"

She was greeted with silence. In the next few seconds a hand shot up in the air.

"Yes, Kunieda-kun? Figured it out already?"

Ryo Kunieda stood up. "I believe that the teachers gave us our summer homework early, not because they wanted to have a head start, but because they won't have another chance to."

This brought some whispers from the students, and some were beginning to come to the same conclusion Ryo did.

"And why we won't have another chance?" Ochi-sensei was still grinning.

Ryo answered swiftly, "Because summer break has come a week early."

"Correct! A perfect score for Kunieda!"

At this shout of revelation, the entire class jumped for utter joy. One even stood up on his chair and yelled "SUMMER BREAK!" as loud as he could. Unfortunately, the chaos that ensued in the room guaranteed for chairs and desks to be shoved by blissful teenagers. Keigo's face met the floor no sooner than when he made his yell. But that did not ripped the grin from his face.

In the midst of everyone's loud chatter of what they were planning for the additional vacation week and while Ochi-sensei was doing what she could to calm everyone down, Ichigo and Orihime shot each other knowing looks. They were relieved to know that school would not be an issue for now.

As the students filed out of the classroom like a stampede of prisoners during a prison break, Orihime told Ichigo to stay in the classroom with her awhile. She already sent Tatsuki to the door, so that things wouldn't get too complicated once she presented the gift waiting inside her schoolbag.

When it was just the two of them, Orihime lost her nerve and fidgeted in her place. This was a lot harder in action than when she imagined it in her head—though maybe the absences of UFOs flying in the sky and pink flowers suddenly blooming around them were factors in her confidence shutdown. This wouldn't be the first time that how she imagined a situation would be a great disappointment of her expectations. She just wanted things to go perfect when she gave him the gift. Just that would be enough for her . . . wouldn't it?

Or maybe you were expecting more than a 'Thank you, Inoue' or a grateful smile? Something more. Something much more. This little voice inside her head was not Emi's but that of her own; an obscure part of her psyche that demanded more than what she was contented with, wanting to suck everything dry and leave behind something that looked like a prune.

I'm fine with what I'll get, she retorted to herself, finding it far easier to fight with herself. Too easy, as if this was the basic norm of the universe and should be expected of her. That thought made her think about Emi's place in her life. Orihime tried visualizing the Big Picture, the giant landscape photo of what she perceived of her life—past, present, and future—but no Emi was to be seen. It was only Orihime standing in the middle of the picture, with all her friends standing right beside her. All of them smiling, even Ichigo, who had one arm wrapped around Orihime's waist. Like close friends. Or like lovers.

That is what you really want, isn't it? the other part of her mind questioned. Not just gratefulness, but also attention. Loving attention from the man who had stolen our heart.

Stop it. I don't what to think it.

Deny all you want, but you know I'm right. She became silent after that. She said what she wanted to say, so there was no point in dragging the internal conversation longer than necessary. Besides—

"So what's the holdup?" Ichigo asked, breaking Orihime out of her thoughts.

"Heh?" was her intelligent reply.

"You told me to stay, wait for the others to leave. Well, we're alone now. Is this about the training? Are you having second thoughts?" He almost sounded hopeful in that last question, but she pretended not to notice.

"No, this is . . ." What was the right word? "Different." Right, point gotten across, but still inefficient. No use crying over spilled milk, though.

Ichigo arched a brow. "Different, how?"

Taking a deep breath and willing the wild thumping of her heart to settle down at least five BPMs, she opened her bag and pulled out the gift. It was a small box similarly measured to the area of a standard playing card and as thick as a deck of said cards. Frankly, it would've passed off as a blue-colored case for a deck of playing cards if not for the red ribbon wrapped around it. She extended her hand towards Ichigo, gesturing him to take the box.

"What is this?"

"Um . . ." Say it. Just say it. It's only three words. Three simple words. That's right, open your mouth and say, "Harrueeaaahh."

Ichigo halted his box examination to gaze questioningly at her. Orihime wanted to find a dark cave somewhere and commit seppuku.

"You say something, Inoue?"

She breathed in, out, in, out. Her heart was thumping a little slower than the piston march it had been doing, but it was still drumming against her chest. With the quiet resonance of the empty classroom and her own nerves forcing her to retreat and regroup even when she was already in the middle of the battle, she listened to its rhythmic beat. It calmed her down much faster.

"Inoue?"

"I'm okay," she answered, realizing that her voice turned out raspy, as if she hadn't drunk for a whole day. She cleared her throat. "I'm just a little thirsty."

"So what is this?" He held out the box.

Here it was, the moment of truth. She inhaled once more, and then blew out the air, purposefully prolonging it. "It's a present for you of course."

"Eh?"

"Happy Birthday, Kurosaki-kun."

Ichigo had a complex look in his face—a weird concoction created from a mixture of surprise, remembrance, and gratitude. "Who told you today was my birthday?"

"Tatsuki-chan told me," she answered right away. It was a simplified version of how she really found out. Orihime learned from Tatsuki that Ichigo's birthday was two days before Tatsuki's, July Seventeen. That was the gist of it; what Orihime omitted from her explanation was that Tatsuki only commented about her being two days younger than Ichigo and not explicitly telling Orihime of his birthday.

Ichigo shrugged at her answer. He eyed the small gift on his palm and asked, "Is it okay if I open it now?"

She nodded eagerly. "Of course! It's yours, after all."

Unwrapping the ribbon wrapped all over the box, opening the top cover, and lifting the object inside it, Ichigo was struck with another complex expression, one that Orihime had a bit of trouble really figuring out this time. It had some bits of surprise—or probably a lot of it—and also bewilderment. She'd admit that it was a strange gift to give, but she was drawing on straws on what to use as a birthday present. She hadn't gotten to know Ichigo all that well yet, and he was quite a private person. Rock music was his favorite genre, but there were so many varieties in that genre (punk rock, hardcore rock, classic rock, country rock) as well as the bands that Orihime couldn't decide which album to buy. Not to mention the possibility that Ichigo could be picky with his choice of music. Orihime wanted a really great present, not something thrown on a whim or a hunch. Which led her to this decisive point.

Ichigo stared at the silver-chained necklace. The pendant dangling at the bottom was a small silver cross with an orange jewel at its center. Orihime had bought the necklace thanks from a friend of her brother who not only sells jewelry but also takes custom-made orders. Her original plan was to buy a '15' pendant, her reason was that it was a misnomer of Ichigo's name—if the numerals were named individually, you'd get 'ichi' and 'go.' But it wouldn't fit well with Ichigo's current age, sixteen. Instead her brother's friend suggested the cross, to which Orihime found it to her liking almost instantly. There was just something about the center jewel that captivated her, almost hypnotizing her. She was sure Ichigo would like it, too. At least she hoped so.

"Well?" she asked. The silence was deafening. She had to break it. "What do you think?"

"It's great. Thanks." He smiled at her, prompting her mental self to swoon while her physical self blushed like a tomato.

When Orihime finally restarted her mental processes, Ichigo was already wearing the necklace around his neck. The pendant hung neatly above his clavicle. Orihime gave herself a mental pat on the back for getting a correct estimate on the length of the chain.

"I'm glad you like it, Kurosaki-kun." She smiled back, although belatedly.

"Come on, let's go."

They exited the classroom and then the school.

When both went on their separate ways towards their respective homes, they packed up some basic necessities for their ten-day training and headed for Urahara Shouten.

The proprietor of the Urahara Shouten waited for the two orangeheads outside his shop. He played with Yoruichi the cat to pass the time, and Yoruichi looked slight offended when Urahara took out the big guns: a stalk of bristlegrass. The bastard knew she was weak against that. Tried as she might, she couldn't help the more playful instincts of her feline persona and was succumb to it. She pranced up and Urahara took that as a cue to wave the bristlegrass back and forth. Her yellow eyes tailed the movements of the stalk, finding the perfect moment to exact her pounce.

Now!

Two paws out, she launched a full frontal assault on the bristlegrass, but Urahara pulled out in time and her paws met the soft, warm ground. She mewed cutely. How humiliating. Once she got herself under control again, Urahara would pay dearly for this transgression. But for the moment, her evilest enemy was making its next move, provoking her into making another blunder. Not this time.

"You're fifty years too early to be able to catch the bristlegrass, Yoruichi-san," Urahara said, as he swung the object of her full attention back and forth, like a pendulum, as if he were hypnotizing her. And Yoruichi really felt that way. Her paws were aching to grab the infernal thing!

She mewed again before making another pounce. Urahara swung the bristlegrass out of her reach. Fine by her, because what she just did was a feint. Reestablishing her paws to the ground was the easy part; changing direction in less than a second without resorting to her shunpo ability was the not-so-easy one. She would've caught the bristlegrass too quickly if she did use shunpo, and where then would the fun be in that? Her feint worked, fooling the blond into thinking his stalk was in the clear.

Yoruichi pounced once more and her claws struck gold. She mewed happily.

"Ah! So fifty years have already passed . . ." Urahara murmured. "How time flies."

"As if that really happened, sandal-hat!"

"Hmm?" He looked up. Yoruichi turned her head, making sure that her claws were still firmly embedded into the bristlegrass. You never know if Urahara would pull a fast one on her in the most unexpected moments. "Oh, Orihime-san, Kurosaki-san, I didn't see you two there. Have you been waiting long?"

"Not really," Orihime answered. "I think it's cute you're getting along well with your pet cat."

"Oh, you misunderstand. Yoruichi-san is not my pet at all."

"Yoruichi-san?" Ichigo echoed, putting emphasis on the suffix. He was probably thinking, This guy must be crazier than I first thought.

"If it's not your pet, then whose is it?" Orihime asked.

"No ones. Yoruichi-san is just my best friend!" Urahara answered too eagerly.

Yoruichi was sure the male one would immediately think of her childhood friend as pitiful, seeing he was desperate enough to designate a cat as his best friend. They might've understood a dog, but not a cat. A black cat at that.

"Right," Ichigo drawled. He shrugged the shoulder bag to a more comfortable position. "Let's get to training."

"Right you are, Kurosaki-san." Urahara let go of the stalk of bristlegrass, dusted his pants of imaginary dust, and did his trademark grin-behind-the-fan. "I would love to start for the both of you, but there's still some unfinished business I have to attend to."

"What kind of unfinished business?" Ichigo asked.

"Nothing serious. But if you insist in training immediately I'll let Yoruichi-san handle this little errand. Orihime-san, would you mind if you help my friend out?"

"No, not at all," she answered.

"How the heck can a cat do your errand?" Ichigo asked.

Which Urahara ignored. "Great! Just leave your bags at the same rooms you've stayed in last night."

Both nodded—Ichigo more reluctantly—and followed after Urahara into the shop, leaving behind a small black cat to play a little more with the bristlegrass. But it soon got boring when the fun out of catching it diminished. Still, her objective with Orihime today would be more than enough to waste hours of the afternoon off. It was also a good way to test Orihime's sensory abilities, seeing that she and Urahara saw her and Ichigo going straight towards Rukia's location without the need for asking directions. Preferably Urahara, in this case.

Only Orihime exited the building. She walked straight towards where Yoruichi was and relayed a message from Urahara.

" 'Mission Start!' was what he said."

Yoruichi shook her head. Leave it to Kisuke to act the childish one. Though she found it odd that the girl did not feel any inhibitions in talking to a cat.

"Well, if we have nothing better to do here, let us go," Yoruichi said, highly expecting a shriek or a mental overload. The latter came true. She then waited for Orihime to reboot her mind after the initial shock of seeing and hearing a talking cat. But the girl's words and overall intake of this situation was completely unexpected.

"Oh my god! You must be Luna in disguise!" she shouted, with gold stars in place of her eyes. She picked her up into the air, as if she were trying to toss a newborn baby. And she was laughing excitedly.

Maybe Urahara was right: Orihime must have inherited her father's spontaneous insanity.

At this moment, Yoruichi the cat couldn't help but sweat drop.

Chapter Afterword:

The summer festival Ichigo referred to when he was "checking out" Orihime's outfit is the well-known Tanabata festival, if you haven't guessed already. It's a festival about the constellations of Altaïr and Vega (referred to as Orihime and Hikoboshi). There are some differences pertaining to the date of the festival—some celebrate it around July 7, others celebrate it around August 7—but since Haruhi celebrated Tanabata in July 7 in the Bamboo Leaf Rhapsody arc, I'm going with that. And since Ichigo's birthday is on July 15, it all comes together nicely. I also took the liberty of changing the timeline a bit, moving it a week backwards, because it's stated that the Soul Society Invaders commenced their operation a little after 1 a.m. on August 8. That would mean, canonwise, Rukia was taken into custody on July 21, while in this fic she was captured on the night of July 14.

The yukata I used for Orihime is one that I've seen her wear in deviantART. Just type 'Orihime' and 'yukata' together, and click this: Yukata Fashion-Orihime by ~Swt-Team. When I saw the picture, I instantly thought that it was an outfit much more fitting for Yoruichi. Or Rangiku.

I also would like to additionally inform that Orihime only "rejected" Ichigo's wounds, but pretty much left his Sleeping Soul and Chain Link as they were. She has the power to reject, but surely there should be a limit of what she can reject; a thought to reject the existence of what she wanted to reject—in this context, the fatal wound—must be the limiter. If she were to have no control whatsoever to that, then wouldn't that mean she'd also be rejecting the existence of Ichigo's arm, the blood flow, the pain receptors which gives him his sense of touch, the body hair, and other things? To me, the way she uses her Shun Shun Rika is all about intent. That's why Tsubaki is considered her weakest link because she doesn't like the offense, just the defense.

And last, but not least, did anyone figure out who is this 'Luna' Orihime referred to? The hint: A talking black cat. Now get a ticket for a trip down memory lane and soon, dawning realization will be subjected upon you. If you're a 90's kid, that is. Ah . . . good times, good times.