02-28-2016, 12:39 PM
A half a second later and she noticed the cartoon gloved fist of the brute above her eyes. Time froze, she gathered herself and realized pain and her were about to become far more acquainted. Shocked, like electricity, she thought she had been in a deep sleep.
She didn’t know where she was, only that she continued to fall on her back, head first, down on something that made a splash sound. Perhaps she had fallen off a cliffside and landed on the edge of where the ocean meets sand. The powerful roar of waves crashing against rocks masked what appeared to be someone chuckling off in the distance. Not aware of where the sound was coming from, Orihime struggled to sit up.
Blood stained hair fell down Orihime’s face as she turned and saw people looking at her. A girl in red asked her if she was alright, and she managed to nod her head, quietly grunting her response. It took her several seconds until after she answered to understand that the red was blood, the color of violence. If in order to save someone, you had to kill someone, are you really saving anyone? her thought echoed inside her cloudy mind.
Orihime told the injured girl that she wasn’t hurt and that she still had the strength to fight. With much difficulty, she was able to find her footing against the crushed gravel. Her eyes never leaving the ground, she noted the substantial puddle of blood she had been standing in. There was so much blood that it pooled and fell off the edge of some of the crumbling landscape like a waterfall. The world felt odd, but she couldn’t place it. What happened? Orihime wondered while she struggled to put the pieces together from before the ambush. Internally perplexed on how they were able to find them and even worse, guilty that she may have led the enemy right to them.
Another question, where was the hero sword? With heavy eyelids, the dazed girl looked around the crash site for the life-saving relic. Luckily, it laid only inches away from her, slightly sunken into the blood-soaked mud, within Orihime’s grasp. As she held her sword up into the star filled sky, the moon illuminated the blood stained metal and cast a dark shadow across her face.
The once magnificent sword’s hilt felt comfortably familiar to Orihime, like she had been its wielder for many millenniums. No wonder the warlock went to such great lengths to protect this precious relic. How she was still fortunate to possess such an incredible weapon, Orihime did not know.
Then the pain started, it felt like someone hit her in the head. It made her dizzy and she couldn’t find the ground. Orihime was standing on the ground but she felt as if she was on a piece land breaking free from the island, any second about to tumble into the devouring black sea below. Almost throwing up, she fell to her dirt covered knee.
After again forgetting where she was, she stayed perfectly still while blood dropped from her ears to the dirt. Very lost and confused, Orihime closed her eyes and held the ground with both hands. Knowing the ground existed was a good comfort for her. Then her head started to vibrate so hard she thought it might fall off. Looking back to the girl, Orihime noticed that she laid still with the same empty expression as the others, she panicked when realized she was all alone. “The others, what about the others?” Orihime struggled to speak with only a pained gurgling sounds coming out instead.
Orihime forced herself to her feet with the rest of her will power and made her way towards the calamity of voices ahead of her. Even though she felt more confident with the sword in her possession, the weight was cumbersome to carry on her shoulder. Unfortunately for Orihime, she kept getting sicker and sicker every step she took. People talking made her nervous as she found it difficult to hold her sword. Was it a friend or foe? How could she know when she couldn’t see through the dizzy blur outside a 4-foot radius? The world got cloudy past her arm and the noise of the predatory early morning didn’t help with the confusion.
A voice cut through all the wilderness with clarity, and it was friendly and familiar. “I can’t tell you how much I owe you.” she heard the voice of the warrior who helped her once before. What was he doing here? she wondered to herself while using her sword to steady herself by wedging it in between crumbling rocks.
No surprise to Orihime, Sasuke was here, if anyone was to survive such a violent assault it was him. How did he know of the oncoming attack moments before it happened? Orihime couldn’t come to terms with how it was possible.
The battered and bruised girl’s heart dropped when she saw Victor laying lifelessly, faced down in mounds of blood-drenched mud and broken branches. No. How could Orihime let something like this happen? What was worse was that he had fallen thinking that she had betrayed them all. The smiling face of Victor appeared in her mind which caused her vision to be clouded with tears.
The look of grief and disbelief on her old allies’ face snapped her out of the guilt she was drowning in. Without thinking clearly he wanted to go after the monsters that did this but Orihime and Sasuke knew too well that it would be suicide and he was just letting his anger get the better of him.
While he held on to the girls still body tightly, pleaded with her to wake up, if anything please wake up. Then to his relief, the girl stirred and called out for the warrior by his name, Trunks. While the life began to fade from the poor girl he vowed to fight the evil spirit for her. The malicious warlock that still had control of this place and their fate was still alive, and in fact, Orihime could feel his presence like he was breathing down her neck.
As the sun crept up the sky and over the restless waves of the ocean bloody massacre that happened here was much worse than previously imagined. The crisp, earthy blades of grass were stained in crimson all across the valley in intricate battle patterns. If it was not for all the violence and bloodshed, this morning could have been very pleasant. At any other time, she could imagine coming to the seaside with an old book in one hand and a hot, sweet cinnamon chai tea in the other. The gentle and salty breeze tickling her face, putting her body at ease. Instead of all that, she stood there, her clothes nothing more than shreds of fabric clinging to the most sensitive areas by blood and dirt with a deadly weapon in her hand.
‘
As much as she felt obligated to rid the island of the evil warlock, the world still felt like it was spinning to fast for her eyes to follow. Hitting her like a sack of bricks, exhausting brought her to the moist ground with the relic lying safely in her lap. She couldn't protect the sword if she found herself fighting for life once again.
Going over the events in her mind, she couldn’t come to terms on how she was holding on by the skin of her teeth. Was this whole mission just a sick and twisted game where the winners were predetermined? Was it fate to die here alone on this disappearing island with this sword still holding on it the hilt with the rest of my strength. No, how could her story end this way? From the beginning of this quest when she was torn away from her new found home in the snowy wonderland, grandfather spirit told her that he chose her because he needed heroes. Heroes with honor and valor to free him from this nightmarish land. Orihime thought herself a hero and up until this point she did every action for the good of saving the restless soul.
No matter what happened she wouldn’t let herself forget who she was and what her purpose is. To help others, no matter the cost like Ichigo would. Orihime filled her lungs with the crisp morning air, which smelled of like musty metal and salt. She came to her feet and prepared herself for what was to happen next.
She didn’t know where she was, only that she continued to fall on her back, head first, down on something that made a splash sound. Perhaps she had fallen off a cliffside and landed on the edge of where the ocean meets sand. The powerful roar of waves crashing against rocks masked what appeared to be someone chuckling off in the distance. Not aware of where the sound was coming from, Orihime struggled to sit up.
Blood stained hair fell down Orihime’s face as she turned and saw people looking at her. A girl in red asked her if she was alright, and she managed to nod her head, quietly grunting her response. It took her several seconds until after she answered to understand that the red was blood, the color of violence. If in order to save someone, you had to kill someone, are you really saving anyone? her thought echoed inside her cloudy mind.
Orihime told the injured girl that she wasn’t hurt and that she still had the strength to fight. With much difficulty, she was able to find her footing against the crushed gravel. Her eyes never leaving the ground, she noted the substantial puddle of blood she had been standing in. There was so much blood that it pooled and fell off the edge of some of the crumbling landscape like a waterfall. The world felt odd, but she couldn’t place it. What happened? Orihime wondered while she struggled to put the pieces together from before the ambush. Internally perplexed on how they were able to find them and even worse, guilty that she may have led the enemy right to them.
Another question, where was the hero sword? With heavy eyelids, the dazed girl looked around the crash site for the life-saving relic. Luckily, it laid only inches away from her, slightly sunken into the blood-soaked mud, within Orihime’s grasp. As she held her sword up into the star filled sky, the moon illuminated the blood stained metal and cast a dark shadow across her face.
The once magnificent sword’s hilt felt comfortably familiar to Orihime, like she had been its wielder for many millenniums. No wonder the warlock went to such great lengths to protect this precious relic. How she was still fortunate to possess such an incredible weapon, Orihime did not know.
Then the pain started, it felt like someone hit her in the head. It made her dizzy and she couldn’t find the ground. Orihime was standing on the ground but she felt as if she was on a piece land breaking free from the island, any second about to tumble into the devouring black sea below. Almost throwing up, she fell to her dirt covered knee.
After again forgetting where she was, she stayed perfectly still while blood dropped from her ears to the dirt. Very lost and confused, Orihime closed her eyes and held the ground with both hands. Knowing the ground existed was a good comfort for her. Then her head started to vibrate so hard she thought it might fall off. Looking back to the girl, Orihime noticed that she laid still with the same empty expression as the others, she panicked when realized she was all alone. “The others, what about the others?” Orihime struggled to speak with only a pained gurgling sounds coming out instead.
Orihime forced herself to her feet with the rest of her will power and made her way towards the calamity of voices ahead of her. Even though she felt more confident with the sword in her possession, the weight was cumbersome to carry on her shoulder. Unfortunately for Orihime, she kept getting sicker and sicker every step she took. People talking made her nervous as she found it difficult to hold her sword. Was it a friend or foe? How could she know when she couldn’t see through the dizzy blur outside a 4-foot radius? The world got cloudy past her arm and the noise of the predatory early morning didn’t help with the confusion.
A voice cut through all the wilderness with clarity, and it was friendly and familiar. “I can’t tell you how much I owe you.” she heard the voice of the warrior who helped her once before. What was he doing here? she wondered to herself while using her sword to steady herself by wedging it in between crumbling rocks.
No surprise to Orihime, Sasuke was here, if anyone was to survive such a violent assault it was him. How did he know of the oncoming attack moments before it happened? Orihime couldn’t come to terms with how it was possible.
The battered and bruised girl’s heart dropped when she saw Victor laying lifelessly, faced down in mounds of blood-drenched mud and broken branches. No. How could Orihime let something like this happen? What was worse was that he had fallen thinking that she had betrayed them all. The smiling face of Victor appeared in her mind which caused her vision to be clouded with tears.
The look of grief and disbelief on her old allies’ face snapped her out of the guilt she was drowning in. Without thinking clearly he wanted to go after the monsters that did this but Orihime and Sasuke knew too well that it would be suicide and he was just letting his anger get the better of him.
While he held on to the girls still body tightly, pleaded with her to wake up, if anything please wake up. Then to his relief, the girl stirred and called out for the warrior by his name, Trunks. While the life began to fade from the poor girl he vowed to fight the evil spirit for her. The malicious warlock that still had control of this place and their fate was still alive, and in fact, Orihime could feel his presence like he was breathing down her neck.
As the sun crept up the sky and over the restless waves of the ocean bloody massacre that happened here was much worse than previously imagined. The crisp, earthy blades of grass were stained in crimson all across the valley in intricate battle patterns. If it was not for all the violence and bloodshed, this morning could have been very pleasant. At any other time, she could imagine coming to the seaside with an old book in one hand and a hot, sweet cinnamon chai tea in the other. The gentle and salty breeze tickling her face, putting her body at ease. Instead of all that, she stood there, her clothes nothing more than shreds of fabric clinging to the most sensitive areas by blood and dirt with a deadly weapon in her hand.
‘
As much as she felt obligated to rid the island of the evil warlock, the world still felt like it was spinning to fast for her eyes to follow. Hitting her like a sack of bricks, exhausting brought her to the moist ground with the relic lying safely in her lap. She couldn't protect the sword if she found herself fighting for life once again.
Going over the events in her mind, she couldn’t come to terms on how she was holding on by the skin of her teeth. Was this whole mission just a sick and twisted game where the winners were predetermined? Was it fate to die here alone on this disappearing island with this sword still holding on it the hilt with the rest of my strength. No, how could her story end this way? From the beginning of this quest when she was torn away from her new found home in the snowy wonderland, grandfather spirit told her that he chose her because he needed heroes. Heroes with honor and valor to free him from this nightmarish land. Orihime thought herself a hero and up until this point she did every action for the good of saving the restless soul.
No matter what happened she wouldn’t let herself forget who she was and what her purpose is. To help others, no matter the cost like Ichigo would. Orihime filled her lungs with the crisp morning air, which smelled of like musty metal and salt. She came to her feet and prepared herself for what was to happen next.
![[Image: Orihime-orihime-inoue-35471187-500-274.gif]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2018/04/09/Orihime-orihime-inoue-35471187-500-274.gif)