Unfortunate Ubication [Orihime]

“Man, what a day…I sure could use a drink.” A gloved left arm ran its covered fingers loosely through his purple-colored hair as he sighed, a scowl on his face. While working in the marketing department of a major clothing company certainly paid the bills, it hadn’t been his first choice for an occupation. Hell, he’d received an undergraduate degree in aerospace engineering and now he was stuck being creative and trendy. Constantly surrounded by a bevy of fashionable women certainly had its perks for any normal male but Haishiro’s hormones were unusually well-regulated for a young man of his age. Of course, he wasn’t exactly the age he’d noted on his employment papers and government records. In reality, he was a few hundred years old. Go figure, right?

Fingering the white tie he had on, Imitsu reflected on the fact that at least he was forced to be well-dressed. Taking pride in one’s appearance didn’t necessarily mean you were vain and he was of the opinion that everyone should at least try to dress appropriately; otherwise, the world around them would look like a dump. He glanced down, noting uneasily that Yorutsuki was even good at picking out clothing for him. She really was like that annoying as piss little sister that you just couldn’t get rid of. No matter how much you wanted to, she was still family.

Comfortable, classic Converses adorned Haishi’s feet for the walk home while a pair of white slacks from the Armani Exchange fit perfectly around his waist. A thin, fashionable black and white belt from Mango made sure his slacks didn’t sag and up top, a simple, solid-colored black button-up covered his torso. The top buttons were undone and a white, reflective tie was tied loosely around his collar. As usual, a thin, blood-red glove hid the true nature of his left arm. A dark gray messenger bag was slung across his back, its strap going cross-wise from his left shoulder to Imitsu’s right hip. Ear buds from an mp3 player were embedded in his ears as a light trance mix by DJ Tiesto supplied him entertainment on the walk home from the office.

Humming along to the tune, Haishiro suddenly stopped mid-stride as a piercing howl ripped through the air. His eyes narrowed and his heart rate increased slightly. He knew that sound all too well; it was the hunting cry of a Hollow. He quickly looked around and cursed under his breath. There were way too many people around for him to get out of his gigai safely and each second he delayed, that Hollow made its way closer to him. Shit. What was he going to do?

“Just my luck…”

Increasing his pace, Haishi attempted to get out of the congested area onto a more deserted street where he might be able to quickly slay the Hollow without attracting any attention. “What the hell, where’d he go?” He looked this way and that. Having been busy trying to get away from the crowds, Imitsu had lost his concentration and lost track of the Hollow that he was sure was locked onto his barely detectable reiatsu. Damn Urahara for giving him a crappy gigai body. A wave of spiritual pressure struck him from behind and he whirled around, about to exit his gigai when he realized there were still people about. Damn, someone would get hurt if he fought it here and he couldn’t blow his cover. Maybe he could just ignore it…

That idea was thrown out the window when the Hollow rushed forward and attacked. A large, meaty fist slammed into the ground, cracking the concrete sidewalk and sending Haishiro flying across the street. Recovering in mid-air, he landed on one hand and flipped expertly onto his feet, trying to act like the other civilians running in panic. In other words, he looked like a worried buffoon that had no idea what was going on. Quietly, he muttered to himself, “Shit, what the hell am I supposed to do know?”

How quickly things can change! It had been a nice day, to start off, anyways, but things today had become more and more strange.

And it seemed, strangely enough, that these events were tied together somehow. From those broken-masked warriors from before... what did they call themselves? Arrancar?... to the strange behavior of Chido Mira to... This.

Orihime had been walking home, schoolbooks over her shoulder when, suddenly, a hollow appeared right in the street! It had been almost a month since one had bothered her in public... And, it seemed, this one didn't even seem to be coming for her. But then... Who?

With people reacting in a blind panic, it was a little difficult to make out exactly what was happening... But the hollow seemed to be following a well-dressed young man off the street and into an off-street alleyway. Well, there was nothing for it but...

"Get down!"

Almost as she said it, the statement was unneccesary - The man fell, catching himself with all the grace of an acrobat. But that wasn't the point...

"Tsubaki, Koten Zanshun - I reject!"

As she said this, Orihime's orange-brown hair started swaying as if caught in a breeze, as did her school uniform, the little bow-tie in the front becoming looser - She wouldn't have a chance to change until she got home. Unseen, or so she thought, to the young man was a golden glow that filled her hands a moment later, surrounding a sprite with a wrap covering his features. A moment later, this sprite shot forward towards the hollow, slicing it in half before returning to land as a hairpin on her head... Of course, not without complaint and a chiding thwack up the head.

"Stupid girl! You're always wasting my time like this!"

Cringing at the rebuke, Orihime regathered what she could of her composure and ran towards the recovering young man, inspecting him like a mother hen might a chickling that had fallen from the nest.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? I must've gotten confused, sorry about that!"

The scowl deepened. Who in the hell was this? She looked like a mere high school student; yet, she’d dispatched that Hollow as easily as any Shinigami. Impressive, to say the least but something didn’t jibe right with Haishiro. She obviously wasn’t a Shinigami nor was she an Arrancar and her reiatsu didn’t remind him of a Vizard. Was she a mere human? Could it be she was one of those spirit-endowed flesh and blood mortals that he had heard so much about lately? Ignoring that fact for a second, he mulled over the show of her powers just now. The attack had commenced after she’d spoken some sort of incantation and the source of the attack had seemed to appear from her hands; though, it was hard to tell. Haishiro hadn’t had a good angle and he could only piece together what he saw and fill in the holes with conjecture.

A curious feeling swept through him as he made a mental note to learn more about this young female in his spare time. The fact that she was able to fully see the Hollow hinted at a certain level of power that she’d attained and it was abundantly clear that this was not the first time she had encountered a creature that looked like that. There had been no hesitation or surprise, evident. How incredibly odd. Giving a mental shrug, Haishiro turned his attention towards something more conducive to his own well-being.

Both his hands were stuffed into his pockets and he was busy inspecting his clothes for any rips or tears when the mysterious do-gooder rushed over and began to crowd him like an overprotective mother. Ignoring her for a moment, he checked the bottom of his soles and let out an expletive. There was old, stringy gum stuck in the treads of his Converse and try as he might, the gum clung there with a tenacious grip as if determined to forever live underneath his shoe. Giving up for now, Imitsu finally turned to face the young girl and dropped the act of a worried civilian idiot.

Standing up straight with a humorless expression, Haishiro looked at her like she was crazy, “You know, shouting odd phrases and running around like you’re fighting monsters could be a sign of mental instability. I recommend you get that looked at.” Cocking his head to the side, his light blue eyes examined her like a scientist would study a subject, a smile never gracing his lips as they stood face to face.

A light flush coloured her cheeks at yet -another- telling off.. It didn't look like today was a good day for this. If only Kurosaki-kun was... No, this was her own problem now.

"I'm sorry. My friends say I have a very active imagination, and I guess I got carried away, hehe."

Still blushing, Orihime's hand reached back up behind her head to accompany a nervous giggle before bowing deeply towards the rude young man. He may've been a rather mean person, but he was her elder, so she had to be respectful. Still, it was a little odd that he had been singled out by the hollow. Maybe he had some spiritual pressure she just wasn't aware of yet?

"My name is Orihime Inoue. Pleased to meet you... Um. Do you have any idea what it was that started all that commotion back in the street? It seemed like whatever it was really scared everyone... Maybe it was an explosion!... No, too quiet. Were there sumo wrestlers running around?... Umm.."

Orihime took a look back the way she'd come... Nope, no Sumo wrestlers. Looking back towards the well-dressed young man, she shrugged before making a rather innocuous question...

"Maybe there really was a monster?"

“And maybe the bogeyman comes out at night to terrify young children.”

He didn’t hide the fact that he was scrutinizing her. The spiritual pressure coming from her was definitely there and from what she’d said, it didn’t seem like she had yet to detect his. He figured he owed Urahara an apology for saying he’d sold him a faulty gigai body. But, then how did that Hollow zero in on him with such apparent ease? And where had the Hollow come from originally? Imitsu knew that as of late, there had been an increased number of spiritually aware beings living in Karakura Town and the intense concentration of reiatsu had drawn dozens of Hollows but this one had appeared out of nowhere, as if it had been stalking him for some time and finally decided to reveal itself. Times were changing and Haishiro had to make sure he knew exactly what the hell was going on.

Looking at her, he sighed. How could he continue to act so cold towards her? Just look at her! She was so…silly and innocent. Her mannerisms and actions were quite unlike those that he associated with on a regular basis and for a moment there, Imitsu had forgotten that he was in the real world, where factors such as age played a large role in interactions between people. This Orihime Inoue girl was most likely merely being polite to him in deference of his age; after all, he hadn’t exactly been too nice to her. And she sure was right about her overactive imagination. That talk about sumo wrestlers had seriously caused Haishiro to wonder about her mental health.

Withdrawing his right hand, he scratched the back of his head as he tried to force a faint smile onto his face. “Look, that was probably just a gas leak or some sort of problem with some underground maintenance shaft or whatever.” He waved his hand dismissively, letting her know to forget about it.

“My name’s Haishiro Imitsu, by the way. I suppose I can’t leave you out here…I’ll walk you home.” Gesturing for her to lead the way, his eyes scanned the horizon worriedly. Something was wrong, he felt it. What was that old saying? It was quiet…too quiet. It was so cliché but clichés were clichés for a reason, after all…

"The boogeyman? Don't be silly. Kurosaki-kun and Kuchiki-chan killed that one. He looked kinda funny, really."

Orihime allowed this sentence to roll off her tongue as if she was discussing homework with a schoolmate - Not that she took this young man for a student anyways. Not the way he was dressed, anyways. But if he was going to think she was crazy anyways...

"A gas leak? It might've been. It does smell pretty funny, and gas leaks do that, you know."

With each and every word infused with a bubbly, enthusiastic energy, one might have almost thought she was prepared to send this information in to the local newspaper for some sort of prize. For a moment, she pressed her index finger to her lips thoughtfully before simply nodding purposefully.

Sliding her bag down from her shoulder to her elbow, Orihime began digging about in it for something as they began to walk again, back out to the street that would lead her towards home... Home. Speaking of home, she had a lot of homework today. Absent-mindedly, she wondered if she could finish it in time to go to the park to play some Base-cer with her friends, but spoke of a completely different matter - But no less important.

"Are you suuure you're okay? Even if it's just a little scratch, you should at least make sure it's disinfected. That alley was pretty dirty, and you never know: You might lose an arm or something if you aren't careful! I wouldn't want to be responsible for letting that happen, especially after confusing you back there."

His head snapped back to the front as Orihime mentioned the name Kuchiki. If he hadn’t just seen her save his life, Haishiro would have drawn his Zanpakuto against her in an instant. The name Kuchiki brought back bad memories for him, memories that had to deal with being hunted by the sixth division after he’d escaped into the real world. How was it possible that this human could know any member of the Kuchiki clan? It was impossible. And who was this boogeyman that she had spoke of? Had it been another hollow? That could explain a lot.

Haishiro followed silently as Inoue led them back to the main street, presumably on a course back to her home. The more time he spent with her, the more he realized that there was much more to her than she’d let on. Just where exactly did her allegiances lie? Was she an enemy leading him into a trap or was she just genuinely kind and caring? How did she have these powers and how was she familiar with hollows? Damn it. Imitsu had a lot of questions and little to no answers. This was maddening.

Suddenly realizing that she was fussing over him again, Haishi fended her off. “Trust me, I’m fine. I don’t even have a scratch on me, really. You should be more concerned with getting home before it gets too late.” Her comment about him losing an arm momentarily caught him off-guard and he hesitated in his speech before forcing a smile. If only she knew how close she was to the truth…

A shock ran through his body, paralyzing Haishiro where he stood. His mind numbly tried to process this feeling that was flooding through his body. This reiatsu that he felt…it was so familiar. It felt so right. Oh no…was it really her? It couldn’t be…or could it? She was a Captain, after all. It only made sense for the Soul Society to utilize her in combat just as much as any other Captain. He had to go find her. He had to see for himself. If it was her, well, this was certainly going to be an interesting evening.

“Orihime. I’m sorry, but I have to go. An important event slipped my mind.” He gave her an enigmatic smile. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

Turning around, he sprinted back in the direction they’d come from, desperately trying to get somewhere he could get out of his gigai and go see her. Already, memories of their past were crowding his mind. “Yoruichi…do you remember me?”

Orihime smiled gratefully at the man's concern for her wellbeing... Maybe he wasn't such a bad person after all. At his sudden halt, she paused as well, watching him curiously as he excused himself and rushed off. Waiting until he was properly gone before continueing, she remarked quietly to herself aloud

"What a strange feeling... I wonder if he felt that?"

Orihime had barely been unable to avoid physically tensing up at the feel of yet -more- reiatsu exploding in the distance... more strong reiatsu. Sniffing the air for a moment, she shook her head sadly. It wasn't the person she'd been waiting for... Still, she would certainly have to look into all of these strange occurences happening some rapidly. Maybe someone at Urahara's Shop would know something about it?

"I haven't visited in a while... I should go see how he's doing. Homework can wait... No, I can do it there!"

With that matter settled, she set her bags back up on her shoulder and cut across one of the side-alleys, making her way to the little-known (to humans, anyways) candy store that was so much more.