(6/28/13)

Who was he, and what did he want with her? Orihime thought as she looked over the young man who was washing his face next to her on the side of the small stream at the back of her old house.

Something stirred in the water and like a flash he grabbed it with his bare hand. He raised the fish in triumph and asked her rather cheerfully, "Do you want some grill fishes, Inoue?"

This and that… He was definitely familiar, but she couldn't put her fingers on who he was.

Orihime shook her head reluctantly. Part of her wanted to know more about him. Part of her wanted to stay away from him. Part of her was amused by him. Part of her detested him. She didn't know where those feelings came from, but such conflicted emotion made her irritated and confused.

"I see." He put the fish gently in the stream. "I'm not surprised that you're not remembering me, that you are confusing, that you doubt me. After all, eight years have passed." He tried to force a smile, "I can't believe we are sixteen now. Look at you, you have become such admirable young lady."

"Listen," Orihime shook her head again, not knowing how to explain to him, "I'm not the one that you are looking for. I have mistaken me for someone you know." If he was indeed sixteen, the girl he was looking for was not her. If he was looking for her, he was not sixteen. But then how was it possible for a man to forget his own age?

The leaves rustled in the wind, the water gurgled against the rocks. The whole universe stood still as he stared into her eyes, each of his word was a confirmation of her existence, "You are her. I can feel it. Isn't the pendant enough proof?"

About that pendant, Orihime couldn't understand why she never noticed it before or more precisely the words that carved in it. For her, it was a part of her, so naturally, like her other part of her body, she never questioned its origin, its existence, its presence. It was just there, the whole time.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Orihime looked at him firmly, her eyes searching for truth in those crystal clear brown eyes, "Who are you? And what do you want from me?"

"I'm Ichigo Kurosaki." He answered with equal seriousness, "and I just want to find my long lost friend, Orihime Inoue."

"How old are you?"

"Didn't you say I'm sixteen?"

"I never said that you are sixteen."
"But you said that you are sixteen."

"But then how come you know that you are sixteen too?"

"Because you are as the same age as me."

"How come a man doesn't even know his own age?" She said with a slight anger in it.

"Yes, I don't know my own age. For me, years are just blury illusions. I couldn't remember how much time has passed. I couldn't remember what I have been doing." He reached his hands for hers, "all I could remember was you. You are the only reason that I keep on going and going."

Letting her hands stay in his was a mistake. Letting her eyes being drawn by his was another fatal mistake, for she was beginning to let herself believe in his outrageous story.

"How did we meet?"

"In the back yard of your house, I was shooting a bird and it flew into your yard, but by the time I got there, you refused to let me take her but insisted of healing her yourself instead."

"How old were we?"

"Five."

"What happened after that?"

"I helped you to mend her injured wings, and then came to play with you every day after that. We healed the bird together, feeding her, finding her a nest, seeking a mate for her, and watching over her and her new family."

"I couldn't remember any of that."

"Coming here," still holding her hand, he led her to a tree nearby. "Look at this, it's still here."

On the tree was a blurred line of word, but she could still read what was carved into it. "Mayo's home. Made by IK & OI."

"We knew how to read and write at five?"

"Just a little bit," he scratched his head, "You were very smart for you age, and I could at least learn how to write our name in abbreviation."

"But how could we put the nest up there?"

"I was a little bit of a climber myself."

"At five?"

"Yes. But we had been playing together for three years. By that time, you and I had learned quite a lot for ourselves."

Orihime couldn't believe it. If what this man said was true, and that she was his Inoue Orihime, then how could she not remember someone she had played with for three years? And there was also the problem of his age. If he was her age, and came from her era, that must mean he was like her, an immortal being, unable to age. She had to test it.

"Do you know anything else about me? Like… my brother?"

"Of course, how could I not remember your brother, Sora Inoue? He was such a strict brother, but he cared about you a lot. He always eyed me whenever I asked to take you out, but he let us anyway after you kept pouting to him. Where is he now?"

That sparked the old wound in her heart, and somehow she began to hate this man. He linked to her past. He could even be linked to her misery, the curse of immortal. He reminded her of all things she wanted to forget. And his ignorance of her pain, his ignorance of his own being, his ignorance of the time itself infuriated her. He was unbound of the suffering of those who was bounded by time. He was freed out of all the strings that tied them humans, only driven by his own wishes and desires. His freedom was what she strived for. It was his freedom that she envied, for while her past tied her up and caged her in, his past pushed him up and kept him moving.

Orihime turned her back and decided to leave. This man was dangerous for her. He raised all of those negative feelings that she didn't want to keep. She wanted to feel good about anything and anyone around her. She wanted to love them and cherished them, but this man irritated her and made her envy him.

"Inoue," he grabbed her wrist, "please don't do."

"Kurosaki-kun, please don't go." She cried, and she wanted to cried louder and louder until he stopped and came back to her, but he didn't stop, didn't turn his head. He just kept going and going while the rain kept falling and falling. She was abandoned, by the one she trusted the most, in a desolated strange land where the wind sliced through her skin with its sharpness and the ground spoil her bare feet with his hardness. She was falling… She wished everything was just a nightmare, and when she woke up again, he would sat next to her, holding her hands, and scowling at her.

She pulled her arm away with all her force. She began to remember now, and it was not pleasant. He was indeed someone she should detest, but why could she forget someone who put such a deep mark in her memories?

Even now, she could only recall fragments of her memories about him. Some of them were full of love and admiration, yet part of them was hatred. Who was him to her?

Before she could further her thought, she felt his warmth over her back, his arms around her waist. "Please don't go, Inoue. I only have you in this world."

It had been so long since she had ever gotten this close to another human being. For years, she was just a ghost of a past, wandering through the present and future. The world she saw was through the mirror. She was a witness, not a living in it.

Feeling his breath steadily on her neck reminded her that she was living again. He was blowing the life into her tired soul.

His energetic passion, his firm resolve, his honesty, his invulnerableness of the surrounding, and even his boldness; she remembered it now. She remembered why she was so drawn to him.

Orihime tenderly and slowly placed the injured bird on her palm. Who would have harmed such an innocent creature?

"Hey," a soft voice startled her. She turned around to see a boy around her age standing shyly next to a tree.

Curiously, she stepped closer to him. "What is this?" She said in a low voice.

"Can you give me back the bird?" He murmured with an even lower voice. She looked around to see if he was trying to keep someone from hearing their conversation, but there was no one there but them.

She leaned closer, trying to hear him, "Can you say it again?"She asked with a slightly louder voice.

"Can you give me back the bird?" He was still whispering like he was afraid someone would overhear them.

"Is anyone around there?"

"No"

"So why do you have to say it so low?"

His face burned red. He stood straight, putting one hand on his hip while one hand placing in front of her in a demanding manner, his voice was rougher with more force on it, "Give it back."

"You are rude; I'm not giving it back."She hid the bird from his sight by placing her free hand over it.

"Mom says taking other things from other is bad. Only thieves do that."

"I'm no theft." She pounded her feet on the ground in anger. "It fell into my yard, and I just want to heal it. You are going to my yard, you are the theft."

He moved his body closer behind the tree. "I'm still here, I'm not over your yard yet. I'm no theft."

"You are a coward."

This time it was his turn to pound the ground with his feet in abashment. "I'm no coward." He stepped closer to her, making her step back and turn to the side so that he could not reach her bird.

"You are the thief now."

"So now you are the coward."He scowled ferociously, not sure on how to deal with her.

"I don't mind being a coward. Brother says it's ok for girl to be a coward. It's best that I should run when I see it fits. That's what smart people do. Only fools like to play heroes and putting their heads into problems."

He opened his mouth in anger then closed it, not sure what to say next, then he opened it again. "Give it back."

"No." She ran toward her house and he chased after her. In a hurry, she tripped over a rock, and fell over. She cried but still tried to cover the bird in her palm. As he came closer, she cried louder and louder, hoping someone could hear her.

"I'm sorry, ok?." He came nearer and gently gave her a handkerchief. "Don't cry." He gently wiped her tears away. "You can keep it if you want."

"Really?" She asked between tears. "You promise that you won't hurt it?"

"Yes, I promise."
"Pinkly promise?"

He scowled but intertwined his finger with hers anyway.

"Inoue, I'm sorry." She felt like her shoulders were burning with his tears, "I'm sorry that I don't know how to protect you." Even her waist hurt with his grip. "I'm sorry that I left." But those pains were nothing compared to the wound in her heart. "I'm sorry that I was a fool, but… I love you."

For those three words were what that hurt the most.

"So… please, don't leave me."