Day 4 Morning

[Sasuke Uchiha]

Bummed. There really wasn’t anyway else to put it. Orihime hadn’t felt like she had been very much help or of much use for the poor, distraught spirit and now, she felt like she had only made matters worse. She knew what it was like to be imprisoned against your will and deeply sympathized with the spirit’s predicament. If anyone wholeheartedly desired to free Teucer, it was Orihime.

The once healer lowered her head and reflected on her recent failure. Just when they were finally getting some traction, she went and messed things up. She wanted to cry she was so upset! Passing through a woodland full of ferns, vegetation, and furry critters scampering about, Orihime came to a halt and began peering around in all directions.

“Oh no,” she said as she placed a finger to her lip, “which way was it?”

Frantic, the girl looked everywhere, searching the woods for the way she had come, but unfortunately, after achieving to only get further lost for a good two hours, the softhearted girl threw in the towel. Tossing the spirit’s mighty sword to the grass, Orihime plopped down next to it and let lose the tears she had been holding back.

“Why?” she gasped in between her sobs, “How could I let this happen?” Streams of tears escaped from her doe eyes, cascading down her delicate face to the singed fabric of her bosom.

“That’s enough, Orihime!” the girl told herself as she wiped her face, “You can do this!” She rose to her feet with renewed determination, “You can help Teucer and he needs you!”

What would Zabajin say? What would Ichigo do?

The girl composed herself, “Okay!” she exclaimed, “Let’s do this!” Patting down the front of what was left of her dress, the girl bent over to retrieve the mighty sword of Teucer, when a sense of panic overwhelmed her.

Gone!

“Where is it?!” the girl cried, “I left it right here!”

“Looking for this?” the voice of Victor Wolfe cooed with a confident, mischievous tone. In his hands, he carried the mighty relic Orihime had used to fend off the likes of Protomouse.

“Oh,” the girl said relieved, “there it is. I was worri-“

“How dare you?!” the ninja appeared from just out of her peripheral vision, “You just run out on us like that?”

“What?” the girl stammered, “Oh, no!” She shook her head and denied the accusation, “That’s not what happened. Is that what you think?” As she spoke her cheeks colored a bright red, “How embarrassing. You see, I wanted to help so badly and I am a healer, that’s what I’m good at. So when the spirit put a defibrillator out there, I went for it. I fought for it; that way I could help… maybe even save some people.”

“How is that embarrassing?” the assassin interrupted her.

“If it is as you say it is,” the ninja agreed, “then everything is fine.”

“Well, umm…” Orihime stammered for a moment before squeaking, “I lost the bracers.”

“You WHAT?!” the shinobi balked in disbelief.

Victor nearly choked at the news. Upset, he voiced as much and groaned, “Awe, hell.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Orhime cried, “Honest, I’ll make it right. I promise!”

The assassin threw his hands up, clearly frustrated, and objected, “That’s not the po-”

“Victor” the shinobi cut the conversation short, his tone deathly serious, “Give Orihime the relic.”

“What? But sh-” the assassin stopped short upon catching the ninja’s eye. Red, blood red, the shinobi’s famous birthright expressed itself freely, dominating his pupils, and charging the very air around him with chakra. “What is it? What’s coming?”

“Do it now, before we all die.” the shinobi barked, took a battle stance, and unveiled his weapon.

Against his own self-interest, Victor Wolfe complied, returned the mighty relic to Orihime, and fell in line, flanking the ninja. Orihime did likewise and the shinobi’s voice boomed over the island’s howling winds, “Get ready, here they come!!!”