Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Princess of Death ❯ Her Decision . . . ( Chapter 4 )

Date written: 04/04/09 - 13/04/09

Posted on Fanfiction: 17/04/09

Rewrote with Beta: 17/05/09

Reposted on Fanfiction: 21/05/09

--- CHAPTER 4 ---

Her Decision . . .

Orihime didn't speak to Ichigo after his declaration to her at the rooftop. She had been occupied with thinking over what use she would be to him. She was very good in Karate since Tatsuki taught her and even commented that she could be as good as a nidan (Second degree) black belt. But hand-to-hand combat didn't seem like it would be effective in battling Hollows, judging from what she had learned from Rukia's lecture last night. Apparently, to exterminate a Hollow and send it to Soul Society, its mask must be slashed with a shinigami's zanpakuto. To do that she would need to know how to handle a sword.

It was easier said than done, but she knew that it was a hurdle she needed to jump over. Nobody said that the path she chose was going to be easy; Orihime expected it to have many challenges. And apart from her apparent lack of skill with a zanpakuto, she also didn't know how to `go shinigami' as she called it. Her soul was still in her body and there was just no way she could think of that can extract the former out of the latter. But Ichigo and Rukia had been able to do it, so it must be something they knew but hadn't divulged to her. She would need to ask Rukia about this along with her supposed living arrangements with a certain orange-haired male.

Walking out of the school building, she met up with Tatsuki, who was waiting for her. “Come on,” Tatsuki said.

“Sorry, Tatsuki-chan, but I can't walk home with you today,” Orihime replied.

Tatsuki raised a brow. “Why?” It was an obvious question to ask, but Orihime hadn't prepared for it. So what better way than to tell the truth if you can't think of a plausible lie?

“I wanted to ask Kuchiki-san something.”

“Do you know where she lives?”

Orihime nodded; she was about to say “She lives with Kurosaki-kun” but closed her mouth before she could voice out the first syllable. Instead, she said, “So, see you tomorrow.”

Tatsuki nodded back. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

Orihime stood in front of the school gates, watching her best friend walk down the road and turn left to another street. Once the raven-haired girl was out of her sight, Orihime about-faced and bolted towards Ichigo's home. Her run was at a slow pace (more of a jog than an actual run) but she was making good progress in reaching her destination. If she was lucky, she might even get there before Ichigo. Then again, it might also mean she'd get there before Rukia, though she had been aware that Rukia was the first to leave the school.

While making her way to the Kurosaki home, she thought back to the first time she had ever been there. It was not a good memory overall, but it had also been the first time she met Ichigo, and she didn't know who he was until Tatsuki told her so later on. Maybe that was why she had been trying to get to know Ichigo more when she found that out. When her brother had been in that fatal accident, he was taken to the nearest clinic which happen to belong to the Kurosakis. Orihime had rushed to where he was being treated as soon as she found out about the accident.. She was not allowed to see her brother immediately when she got there, but one boy waited out in the hall with her, comforting her and saying that it will be okay. Well, in a typical child-manner; he had tried to show his softer side but hadn't been really good at expressing it so openly to a stranger before, so it didn't really make much headway. But it did make her feel a little better just knowing that someone in the clinic was kind enough to make her laugh. She slowly wondered why she had been so intimidated by his scowl at the time.

When she smiled, she saw him smile back. She wanted to ask his name but the doctor treating Sora came into the hallway and called out to her. It was then that he told her about her brother's death.

“No, you're lying . . .”

When she entered the examination room, Sora laid on the bed, covered with a white blanket from head to toe. The doctor closed the door as Orihime stepped inside the room, telling her that he would give her some time alone. He may have already known that she needed that time to let the information sink thoroughly into her mind. She needed to be alone. Her brother—

“You can't be dead . . .”

—was dead. There was no pulse, no heartbeat, no breath, no life inside his body. Orihime had walked closer to the right side of the bed, clasped her left hand with Sora's cold one, and cried. Nobody had entered the room no matter how loud she cried; she had just wanted to release all the tension, all the sadness, and to acknowledge the cruel fact that there was no one left to take care of her. She was alone in the world. Her brother was gone.

Orihime didn't want to think it, but there may have be something else she was not aware of during her mourning. If what Rukia had told her in her lecture was accurate, then a konso won't happen to a soul immediately after its chain of fate had been severed. Well, that was in the case of locating dwelling souls; it was rare for shinigami to find and perform konso on souls that died less than an hour or so. And it led Orihime into thinking . . . where did her brother's soul go right after he died? If she knew Sora as well as she did, he would have said goodbye to her. He was not aware of her `gift,' but she would've said goodbye to him, ignoring the fact he couldn't see ghosts, if the roles had been reversed. Yet, throughout the days after his death, not once did she feel his presence close by. It was as if he had already gone to the Other Side without saying goodbye, and it was only because of her grief-stricken state that Orihime thought nothing of this back then. If she did, she knew it would have made her even more depressed.

But at least she found the answer to that question on her own. If her brother's soul was not there after he died and before Orihime entered the room, then he must have been taken by someone. And she shuddered at the thought. It would also explain why Sora became a Hollow and hadn't been sent to Soul Society after all this time. And that would also mean—

She suddenly felt a powerful presence nearby that disturbed her. It felt toxic and predatory, like poisonous gas entering and exiting her lungs, leaving a very strong aftertaste that wanted her to gag out her lunch and spit out bits of blood. And at the same time, she felt this slightly heavy pressure pushing her body down, as if she were carrying a half-filled rice bag on her back. Soon her mind felt the familiarity of this presence and understood why she reacted this way.

It was a Hollow.

Not far away, right where the presence was near, she heard a loud collision. Following the presence rather than the curious people heading towards the same direction, she arrived at a three-way intersection. The road perpendicular to the road where she was in was littered with gasping onlookers and a serious automobile accident. Two four-door sedans had been demolished through a head-on collision, clashing metal against metal with such severe force that one of the drivers had been flung out of his car seat and skidded on the asphalt until the friction slowed him down to a halt. Another car, a yellow Toyota Corolla E120, slid out of control as it tried to swerve away from the wreckage of the two totaled vehicles. It went up the sidewalk, hitting two pedestrians along the way. By then, the people with cell phones were calling ambulances and the police. She counted five injured, including the four-member family inside the white 1999 Honda Domani which was a part of the head-on collision.

People were badly hurt; blood was everywhere. And she even saw the newly departed soul of the driver that had been flung out of his car. She stared at him as he was forcefully pushed out of his body, his chain of fate still attached. Two seconds later, the chain broke from the middle, leaving the man to shout in terror and bewilderment. He didn't even know he was already dead.

She then heard a blood-curdling roar from above and instinctively looked up in dread. The white mask was all she needed to see to know that that creature was a Hollow, and it seemed to take a rapt attention on the newly departed soul who trembled at the sight of it.

The Hollow was sitting on top of one of the lower buildings that were around ten stories in height, sniffing the air as if in search of more prey. Orihime wanted to warn the soul to run because the Hollow was about to go after him but the man high-tailed it out of there before she could even turn and face him. That must have been the Hollow's signal to attack because it jumped from the roof and landed like a giant sledgehammer slamming on the road, cracking the black tarmac and asphalt with such ferocity that Orihime felt it like there had been a tremor. Before both the soul and Orihime could react, the Hollow opened its mouth and bit the soul's upper body, its teeth piercing the man's waist like a hot knife through butter. Orihime heard the man's muffled scream as the Hollow took hold of the soul's lower body while pulling on the upper. She turned away when she heard the sound of bone and flesh tearing and being chewed by giant, gnawing teeth. Her thoughts got so curious that it wondered whether ordinary souls spurt out blood like any living human who became victim of being chewed up by giant flesh-piercing teeth of a wild beast. But that was as far as her thoughts went. She couldn't stomach the gore.

Nor could she move. The gravity of the horrors and power emanating from the Hollow stunned her senses that it took almost all of her willpower to just stand on her own two legs, but that was a weak attempt. Her legs were unbalanced and wobbled around like a drunkard's legs. When the Hollow's meal was over, Orihime watched as it walked closer to the wreckage, its eyes staring directly at a person lying on the ground. The person must've been caught unprepared by the Hollow's shaky entrance that he lost his footing. He stood slowly up and looked around the wreckage, scanning the road and the streets with concentration, maybe trying to look for any victims who need help out of the demolished cars. She saw the school uniform and quickly realized that he was from her school. The person had dark skin and was tall in height, more than enough to be considered a basketball player. But only one person sprang into her mind that had dark skin, goes to Karakura High, and was very tall.

“Sado-kun!” she exclaimed, and rushed to where the Mexican giant was picking up an injured crash victim bridal-style.

He seemed surprised at her arrival. “Inoue,” he said, “what are you doing here?”

“I was just on my way to Kurosaki-kun's house when—” She cut her explanation short when she felt the eerie presence of the Hollow close by. She had completely forgotten about it. Through the corner of her eye, she saw the claws in its right hand going for a clean swipe at Sado. She reacted quickly. “Sado-kun! Watch out!”

She tried to push Sado out of the way but her petite arms were too weak for her to completely shove the heavy giant out of harm's way, even when it came to a surprise for the Mexican in question. Instead of pushing Sado away from harm, she became a cushion of the claw's blow as the Hollow had enough strength in its attack to throw both students in the air. Orihime screamed in pain as the claws dug into her back's flesh, producing four bloodied claw marks in an ascending diagonal pattern.

Her back felt hot. The searing pain was unbearable as Orihime bit her lip to refrain her voice from screaming anymore until the pain made her insane. She tried to sit up but the shock of the blow on her back won out, and she dropped back onto the road with blood oozing out of her deeply cut wounds. She vaguely recalled Sado shaking her shoulder, telling her not to go to sleep. She wanted to listen. Oh how she wanted to listen, because if she didn't, Sado might be attacked again by the Hollow and she wouldn't be there to save him.

She felt light. Was this the end?

Kurosaki-kun . . .

Yasutora Sado didn't know what was going on but Orihime Inoue seemed to have incurred a serious injury on her back. He stared at the four deep gashes of both her blouse and her flesh. She needed medical attention, quickly.

He looked around and saw the woman he had been carrying before Orihime pushed him—well, tried to push him—lying on the road, looking like a mild version of Bloody Mary. She wasn't that bloodied before, though, even after he was relatively pushed by some unknown force (it couldn't be Orihime, he said to himself) and let go of her because the push took him by surprise. His grip hadn't been that strong. The extent of the woman's injuries was immense that he somehow knew that the woman wouldn't make it.

“Mister!” he heard someone yell. Sado turned to the source and saw the cockatiel near the wreckage where he found and extracted the injured woman, flapping its wings inside its cage, almost looking frantic, if birds actually have that kind of expression. “Watch out!”

The cockatiel's words meant something dangerous. But more importantly, he had to rush Orihime to the hospital. Where was the danger, though?

A sudden rush of air snapped him out of his thoughts and he instinctively dodged to the left while carrying Orihime in his arms. A second later, he heard a crash and saw a small crater at the spot where he had been. Sado was spooked, though his stoic face masked that emotion. He could vaguely see a sort of distortion on top of the crater. Something that looked like invisible water or air that had taken shape of something . . . big and dangerous.

“Run . . .” Orihime murmured.

He heard her and thought about doing just that. But he began to ask himself, was this the reason why this devastating accident occurred? Was this also the cause of Orihime's wounds? And if this was true on both counts, what can he do about it?

He looked over to the bleeding woman again and instantly knew she was dead. Sado didn't know how he knew that. It was as if he had seen dead bodies before and could immediately recognize the difference between a corpse and a heavily-injured but still alive and unconscious person. It was a strong enough feeling that he couldn't do anything but trust his own judgment and leave the body there. The rest of the victims were being treated, at least until the ambulance came, by bystanders who were rushing to aid their fellow men.

He heard Orihime gasp air, then moaned in pain. Sado was no doctor, he'd admit that, but he was also no fool to not see the full extent of the orange-haired teen's severe injuries. Waiting for the ambulance to take her to the hospital would take too long. If she didn't receive immediate medical attention, she'd die of blood loss.

“Mister! Mister! Are you okay?” the cockatiel asked.

Sado vaguely wondered if anyone passing by would take notice of a cockatiel speaking in fluent and logical Japanese, as if the cockatiel had an actual grasp of what was occurring outside of its cage. Putting the pointless thought aside, Sado adjusted his hold on Orihime to piggyback. He couldn't risk carrying her bridal style like how he did it on the bloodied woman, unless he wanted to aggravate Orihime's wounds. Succeeding in getting Orihime over his back, he nonchalantly noted that Orihime was a little lighter than he first thought.

“I am,” he answered the cockatiel; he now wondered if people would think of him as an escape convict of the loony bin for talking to a bird. But then again, what about the victims and the crater in the middle of the road that came out of nowhere? “You?”

“I am also fine, mister. He's no longer here, too.”

“He?”

“The one who attacked you before.”

Sado nodded in understanding, said no more on the matter, and picked up the bird cage by inserting his right hand's fore- and middle finger into the metal loop on top of the cage. His top priority right now was to get Orihime to a hospital. But due to the distance of the nearest one, he wouldn't make it in time. Waiting for an ambulance wouldn't be beneficial since Orihime was breathing shallowly and his uniform's sleeves were already drenched in so much blood that it looked like he had dyed them red.

“Kurosaki-kun . . .” she murmured.

“Ichigo?” Then it dawned on him. Ichigo's family runs a clinic at their home. And judging by their location, his home wasn't all that far from them either. Sado had two possible choices: a) Wait for the ambulance to come; or b) Take her to the Kurosaki clinic.

He chose the latter.

And thinking back on it, two days after the accident, Sado realized that it had been a good idea to do so. For if he had stuck around until the ambulance arrived, he would've perished alongside ten others, who were engulfed in a sea of flames when the two collided cars blew up in a tremendous explosion that rocked the intersection in shock and terror.

Sado was no action fanatic (he rarely watches TV) but even he knew that cars don't just blow up all because of a collision in real life. He was most certain that the deaths of those ten people were caused by the same one that wounded Orihime.

Ichigo rushed to the entranceway, never minding his father, who was already assessing the dire situation. “What happened?” the teen asked Chad.

“An accident not far from here,” Chad said, looking winded from running all the way here probably. “Inoue got hurt.”

Ichigo wanted to say, `Don't you think I can see that, moron?!' but bit his tongue. This was no time to snap at others because of his big concern. His worries over the injured woman escalated as her head shook left and right, her mouth whispering incoherent words, almost sounding like a mantra of a yet unknown purpose; she seemed to be dreaming. Her wounds were the main concern right now, not her dreams.

“Yuzu, get a bed vacant,” Isshin Kurosaki ordered, then looked at Chad again. “Come on, we need to get this girl into proper care.”

“Dad, I—”

“Not now, Ichigo,” Isshin interrupted without restrain. “Hurry!” he said to Chad, who nodded and carried the still unconscious form of Orihime to the room Yuzu began to prepare.

Ichigo could only stand in the entranceway, disturbed by the fact that he could do nothing to help. What also disturbed him was the Hollow's scent reeking out of Orihime's wounds, proving the real cause of her being hurt. Her injuries were severe and he was certain his Dad would need to stitch up whatever had caused those wounds to gush out so much blood.

“Be safe, Inoue,” he whispered before running down the hallway to where the clinic connected with their house. There was nothing left for him to do than search for the Hollow that did this.

He bolted through the living room, went up the stairs two at a time, and opened the door to his bedroom. There, sitting on his bed with her arms and legs crossed, was Rukia, who was looking at him with a very serious and very grave expression.

“You felt it?” he asked, though it may have been rhetorical.

Rukia nodded. “Yeah. Inoue-san had been attacked by a Hollow.”

“How can that be? I thought I told her not to get involved with me.”

“Whether you'd get her involved with this line of work or not, it still wouldn't matter. Hollows don't care for such trivial things. They only wish to satisfy their own hunger, regardless of what means they use to obtain that feeling.”

“What do you mean `whether I'd get her involved or not, it still wouldn't matter?'”

“So you haven't sensed it at all?” She didn't even raise an eyebrow. Like how Ichigo asked earlier, her question may have also been rhetorical. “I once told you that Hollows are attracted to people with high spiritual energy. The higher the energy, the more Hollows it will attract.”

Realization dawned on him. “Then what you're saying is—”

“Precisely. Ever since Inoue-san gained her shinigami powers, her spiritual energy feels almost as potent as yours. I am certain that was what attracted the Hollow to her.”

Ichigo cursed. “Damn it! Why must this happen?”

“Stop asking `why,' Ichigo. What's done is done, and there's nothing you can do to change it.”

“I know, but I just didn't want Inoue to get involved in this. Look what happened to her when she did!”

“That's not for you to decide!” Rukia yelled, her eyes pulsing with unseen anger.

Ichigo reeled back as if he had been slapped in the face and kneed in the stomach.

“Her powers are hers and what she wants to do with them is for her to decide.” Rukia glared at him. “Not you.”

“But that's . . .” What can he say? That it'd be too dangerous? He knew very well that he was not in control over what Orihime wanted to do, and had no say over her decisions. He could only suggest to her not to be involved but it would be up to her whether to take that suggestion to heart or not. He should have known that Orihime wouldn't listen to him. She was way in deep already, and this line of work involved her whether she agreed to him or not. She'd still get hurt, regardless.

“You understand now?” Rukia asked. She took out her cell phone and pushed some buttons on the keypad. “If you do, then we should go search for the Hollow that attacked Inoue-san.”

He nodded; words were unneeded.

“Often a Hollow cannot be detected by us unless it comes into this world.” Rukia produced a sketchbook and a . . . colorful illustration drawn on two pages. There were three shaded portions each with a different color on the left side of the illustration. The farther left was referred to as `Soul Society;' the middle `Space between;' and the right `Human World.'

Ichigo stared at the drawing with a twitching eye.

“A Hollow resides within the space between Soul Society and the Human World.” She pointed at her trademark Hollow bear, which was in the middle of entering the realm of the `Space between' with a mischievous glint in its facial expression. “While it is there, we shinigami cannot go after it. However, if it crosses the space between and entered the Human World, then our radars will pick up the Hollow's spiritual signature and alert the nearest shinigami to its location. Any questions?”

“None,” he answered, then added, “because your drawings are so incomprehensible, I have no idea what to ask.”

BASH! He got hit on the nose. He yelled in indignation.

“Again, while it is there,” Rukia said, ignoring the orange-haired teen's loud protest, “Soul Society will not be able to detect them. We must eliminate this Hollow before it goes after Inoue-san again or return to that space.”

“What do you mean? It's going after Inoue again?”

“You should realize by now that some Hollows behave like territorial carnivores. Once they settled on a prey, they won't stop until they get their prey. For Inoue-san, it just got a lot more dangerous. When a Hollow feels the reiatsu of a person with strong spiritual talent like her, then there are cases it would go after the person again if the first attempt failed.” She then showed him the screen of her cell phone that displayed a miniature tactical map. Ichigo saw a small blip at the upper right of the screen. That must signify a Hollow.

“So it's going after Inoue,” he said, watching the blip move closer to the center.

Rukia nodded. “Maybe you and your family as well. All this reiatsu gathered in just one place is like a giant bait for Hollows to naturally whiff out in the air. At least this Hollow is alone.”

“Then let's go beat the crap out of that bastard.”

Yasutora Sado sighed as he sat down on a bench near the entrance of the clinic. The floor was polished wood, he observed. The walls were given a white coating of wallpaper, which was quite fitting for a very small hospital like this. The bird cage he carried around occupied the space to his left. The empty corridor showed no solace over the escalating discomfort in him. From inside the room at the end of this empty corridor was Ichigo's father doing his best to save Orihime. His expression from outside didn't have any kind of distress over his classmate's critical condition, but he was definitely worried.

“Mister,” the cockatiel said. Sado made no indication that he heard him, but the cockatiel took it as though he had. “I'm sorry.”

“Hm?” That was unexpected. “What for?” he asked, puzzled as to why the bird would apologize.

“The one who attacked you and your friend . . . and also the one that caused the accident is after me.”

“I see.”

“Then you should just leave me. If you don't, you'll only get hurt again.”

“No.”

“Eh?”

“I won't do that.”

“But mister, you don't understand. He will kill you if you keep me. You mustn't do it. Please, mister.”

There was a change in the air. Sado didn't know why but he felt sudden dread attack every nerve in his body, making him shudder, forcing him to stand up with an unsteady breath. He felt his bowels turn uncomfortably and his lungs constrict like they were being squeezed by some powerful `pressure' emanating from the surrounding air. The air itself felt heavy and he had a little difficulty breathing. What the hell is this?

“Mister, run! He's here! He's here!”

That was all the warning Sado needed as he took the bird cage into his arm and bolted towards the exit. He was positive that Orihime would make it, and knew that it would be all right if he left her. He had no idea who this `he' that the cockatiel kept referring to, but understood that `he' won't rest until he got his hands on the bird. Sado promised his grandfather that he would use his body to protect the ones who couldn't protect themselves. Protecting a bird was no different than protecting a human being. He'd be going against his oath if he accepted the cockatiel's desire to leave it behind.

With heavy steps as the `pressure' thickened around the air, Sado opened the door and dashed out into the street, turning to the right without looking around. He already knew he can't see `him.' What point would there be in looking around?

Sado heard a faint voice calling out his name—no, it was his nickname “Chad.” But the only ones who ever called him that were Ichigo and their male friends. He didn't stop to figure out where the voice was coming from, however. There were more pressing matters he had to take priority of, and any more distractions would have just hindered his progress. He turned down another street and—just like the past three streets he had passed—it was void of any pedestrians.

The `pressure' returned. Sado whirled his body to the left, hitting the wall, right before a rush of air swooped past him like a bullet. He thought he heard a roar coming from up ahead but there was no one else in the street except for him and the cockatiel.

“Watch out!”

Sado looked over his shoulder and saw Rukia Kuchiki, the new transfer student, sprinting towards him, evident fear enveloping her face.

“Move now!” she said, and he complied almost instinctively. He rolled to his right, hitting his back on the opposite wall, and heard a cracking sound. The opposite wall now had four deep gashes, horizontally paralleled. And he thought back immediately to the injuries Orihime had received.

`He' was here.

Orihime woke up to a forest of sakura trees, their blossoms following the path of the mild wind as it sought a purpose to the west. This wasn't what she expected to wake up to. But everything seemed familiar, as if she had been here before. The blue sky. The blooming sakura trees, the petals fluttering against the wind in an intoxicating dance that left her in awe. The soft, green, grass-covered ground beneath her as well.

Come, child . . . come . . .

That's right. This was the realm of the red kimono woman. And if memory served well for her, that would mean she was asleep—or dead—and the red kimono woman would be found sitting right at a bench near the edge of a cliff. Orihime looked over where she knew that bench was and immediately saw the red parasol and then the red kimono of the woman who gave her shinigami powers.

“We meet again, child,” the red kimono woman said as Orihime made her way closer to her. “Although I wish it was during better circumstances.”

Orihime couldn't exactly remember what happened before she entered this place but her mind was tugging like it was something absolutely important and that she must remember. But all she could remember was the automobile accident and also Sado helping one of the victims out of the wreckage of the demolished cars. But what happened after was a blur. She remembered pain, excruciating pain that almost rivaled her experience with the Hollow that tore off her chain of fate, though this pain was prominent on her back instead of her chest. She touched that part of her body and found no problems there except maybe for the little stinging sensations that almost seemed like phantom pains of a long lost injury.

“Why am I here?” Orihime asked, puzzled over why she was here, yet also ecstatic that she was talking to the kimono woman again.

“You are here because you wish to be here,” the woman answered. She twirled her parasol. “Isn't that why you are here?”

That was a little repetitive. “I don't understand. I didn't wish to be here.”

“Oh . . . then you do not know?”

“Know what?”

“Come, child.” The kimono woman stood up from her bench and walked towards the edge of the cliff, resting a pale hand against the railing. “Come here and tell me what you see.”

Orihime followed her and saw the same thing she had seen the last time she had been her: a gray fog. But it was a little different this time. The fog was darker, more . . . tainted, like rain clouds darkening before a storm terrorizes the land. And she felt as if there was a storm coming soon, and it won't be just a simple downpour either.

“Do you see, child? Do you see how it darkened over the time you have awakened your birthright?”

“What's happening?”

“You are the only cause of this, child. And it is only you who can set this right as well.”

“Me? But how?”

“Your inner turmoil,” the woman answered solemnly. “It has caused your control as well as mine over your spiritual energy residing within your soul to lessen. If this goes on any longer, your body might break from the strain and your spiritual energy will leak out so much at one time that your soul wouldn't handle it. In the end, your soul will disintegrate, putting you out of existence forever.”

“I did this?” She raised both hands up to her chest, the left one rubbing the right soothingly.

“Yes. What you're seeing before you is a manifestation of your spiritual energy. The reason why it looks darker is because of your indecision.” She hesitated, took a deep breath, and gripped the railing harder. “Though you want to help your friend and accept the responsibilities of a shinigami, your doubt did not leave your heart. You always asked yourself, `Can I really do this?' `What if I fail?' `Am I sure about my decision?'”

Orihime was quiet. She felt her hands tremble against her bosom. Her left hand kept rubbing her right.

“The truth may hurt but you cannot run away from it.” The kimono woman lowered her parasol and faced the orange-haired female, showing her for the first time the face that was hidden under the fanciful piece of red wood and paper. Her face was as white as the skin of her hands, and she looked like beauty incarnated. Her hair was strawberry blonde—not quite as red as her own, but it was close—and it dazzled and glittered against the bright, shiny rays of the sun. It was done up into a ponytail that reached her shoulders; she used a purple ribbon to tie up the ponytail with. There was also a red, concave hair comb that was stuck just above the ribbon. Her eyes were as mesmerizing as her feminine figure, and they were in the shade of color that resembled Orihime's. Gray eyes that almost looked silver in the proper lighting. Her expression was of utmost seriousness as she continued what she was saying. “You must find a way to solve this, child.”

“I don't know how,” Orihime admitted. “How can I set things right if I am not even sure of what I did wrong?”

“You still do not understand, do you?” she asked. When she didn't hear a reply, the kimono woman said, “Very well. Then you will have to find the answers yourself.”

Orihime wanted to ask her what she meant by that but never had the chance to. What happened next had been too fast for her eyes to follow and she soon found herself tumbling over the railing and into the gray fog that waited below.

Orihime screamed.

In the real world . . .

“Damn! She's losing a lot of blood,” Isshin stated. He was doing his best to keep Orihime's condition worsening, while she dreamt the world that was not a dream.

Suddenly a black figure ejected itself out of Orihime's body, and floated near the door. Karin felt the presence and looked over her shoulder towards the spot where the black figure was. She squinted her eyes and if not for her father's new list of orders, she would've kept staring at the same spot for who knows how long. She felt disturbed, though. Whatever she felt . . . it didn't feel human.

The figure smiled as it flexed its ten fingers, testing out how much control it had over its own body. “Perfect,” the figure muttered; the voice was feminine, laced with seduction and confidence. “This is just perfect.”

`Orihime' in her shinigami uniform exited the room when one of the nurses, Yuzu, opened the door to fulfill her father's orders. Not long after, Karin exited the room as well, taking a tiny glance at the corridor where `Orihime' was now walking through.

“She's not breathing! Yuzu, Karin! Hurry! We can't afford to lose her!”

`Orihime's' chocolate brown eyes turned back towards the room where her soulless body awaited what could be oblivion. She smiled. And also did not seem to care. She was free, for the moment. That was all that mattered. “Good luck, princess. I'll be rooting for you.” She exited the house and quickly ran towards the concentration of spiritual energy somewhere in the distance. “Rooting for you to die, that is.”

If anyone were to see her then, they would have seen the maniacal grin on her face, almost reaching ear-to-ear.