Orihime Inoue adjusted the paper bag in her arms as she and Tatsuki stepped out of the craft store, the little bell over the door chiming cheerfully behind them. Inside the bag were foam sheets, reinforced thread, metallic fabric paints, and a strange assortment of odds and ends Uryū had very seriously recommended for a "structurally sound but aesthetically appropriate" custom gi for Tatsuki.
Tatsuki still didn't know exactly what it was going to be like in the end—only that it was meant for her upcoming martial arts tournament. After last year's loss in the finals, she'd been determined to represent Karakura better this time. Orihime admired that about her. Tatsuki always fell, got back up, and hit harder.
They hadn't gone more than half a block when Orihime slowed.
Her smile faded.
"…That's weird," she murmured.
Tatsuki glanced sideways at her. "What is?"
Orihime hesitated, fingers tightening around the bag handles. The air felt… wrong. Not cold, not heavy—just strained, like a rubber band pulled too far. She turned her head slightly, eyes unfocusing as her awareness stretched outward.
Spiritual pressure.
Strong. Violent. Colliding.
A Hollow.
And—someone else.
Her breath caught.
The pressure wasn't clean or steady like Ichigo's. It wasn't sharp and disciplined like Uryū's either. It felt jagged. Unstable. Lightning-static chaos layered over something human and desperate. Two presences clashing hard enough that even the ambient spiritual flow of the city seemed to shudder.
And then—
It surged and wavered.
"Hey," Tatsuki said, stopping too. Her brow furrowed, her posture shifting unconsciously into something more alert. "You feel that, don't you?"
Orihime looked at her in surprise. "You… noticed?"
"Yeah," Tatsuki said slowly. "I don't see anything, but something's off. Like the air just… flinched." She clenched a fist. "That bad kind of feeling."
Orihime swallowed. "There's a Hollow nearby."
Tatsuki's jaw tightened immediately. "Figures."
Orihime focused again, heart starting to race. The Hollow's presence was still there—predatory, cruel—but what worried her more was the other one. The second reiatsu flickered, spiking sharply and then dipping, like a failing heartbeat.
"It's not just a Hollow," Orihime said softly. "There's someone fighting it."
"Someone like Ichigo?" Tatsuki asked.
Orihime shook her head. "No. I don't… I don't know who it is." She frowned, confusion creasing her face. "Their spiritual pressure is strange. It's fairly strong, but it's breaking apart. Like they're forcing it to keep going."
And then it dipped again. Harder this time.
Orihime's eyes widened.
"It's getting weaker," she said, fear bleeding into her voice. "More erratic. Like they're hurt. Badly."
Tatsuki didn't hesitate. She shifted the bag to one hand and rolled her shoulders, eyes already scanning the street as if expecting something to leap out at them. "Where?"
Orihime turned slowly, following the pull she felt deep in her chest. "…That way."
Tatsuki followed her gaze toward the older part of town, where abandoned buildings hunched between newer storefronts.
"Then we don't go home yet," Tatsuki said flatly.
Orihime nodded, clutching the craft supplies like a lifeline. Somewhere nearby, a Hollow was hunting—and someone was fighting it alone.
And whoever they were… they were running out of time.
Orihime and Tatsuki broke into a full sprint the moment the abandoned hospital came into view.
The place looked worse than Orihime remembered—far worse. When Don Kanonji had dragged everyone there for his ridiculous show, the building had been eerie, but intact, like a relic stubbornly refusing to fall over. Now it looked half-rotted, windows blown out, concrete cracked and sagging as if the structure itself had finally decided it was tired of standing.
A black car sat parked out front, out of place and ominously still.
Orihime barely registered it.
The air screamed.
Lightning cracked somewhere inside the building, sharp and violent, followed by the unmistakable concussion of combat. Spiritual pressure slammed outward in uneven waves, making Orihime's chest tighten as if her heart were trying to sync with something it couldn't keep up with.
"There—!" Orihime gasped.
They skidded to a stop just as the hospital itself seemed to convulse.
A boom thundered from above.
The third floor wall exploded outward in a shower of concrete and rebar, two crimson energy blasts erupting from within a split second later like aftershocks. Dust and debris billowed into the air, blotting out the sun.
Orihime screamed.
Tatsuki swore.
A massive chunk of the wall—far too big to still be considered debris—tore free completely and plummeted downward.
And stuck to it—
"No—no, no, no—!" Orihime's breath hitched.
A man.
Black-clad. Limbs pinned awkwardly, body half-embedded in some kind of hardened residue as the slab crashed through the hospital's front archway. Stone shattered. The entrance collapsed inward with a deafening roar, rubble piling high as the impact shook the ground beneath their feet.
The dust cloud swallowed everything.
For a heartbeat, there was only ringing silence.
Orihime's knees nearly gave out.
"That—" Tatsuki said hoarsely, eyes wide, fists clenched so tight her knuckles went white. "That was a person."
Orihime was already moving.
"I—I can still feel him," she said, panic sharpening her voice. She pressed a hand to her chest, eyes unfocused as she searched through the chaos of spiritual pressure. "He's alive—but barely. His reiatsu is—it's fading fast."
And above them—
Something else stirred.
A suffocating, predatory pressure rolled out from the shattered third floor, coiling through the air like a smug laugh. The Hollow's presence was unmistakable now—stronger, crueler, savoring what it thought was victory.
Tatsuki followed Orihime's gaze upward, teeth bared. "So that's where it is."
Orihime swallowed hard, fear warring with resolve. "There's another one still fighting it. Stronger—but hurt. Really hurt."
Tatsuki exhaled slowly, grounding herself the way she always did before a match. Her stance shifted, solid and ready, despite the fact that she couldn't see what Orihime could.
"There's no time to sit around," Tatsuki said firmly. "Come on!"
Orihime nodded, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she looked between the ruined entrance and the shattered upper floors.
Someone had just been thrown out of a building.
Someone else was still inside with a Hollow that was enjoying itself.
And Orihime knew—deep down, with the awful certainty she'd learned to trust—
If they didn't act right now, this was going to end very badly.
Orihime and Tatsuki rushed the moment the dust began to settle.
Chunks of concrete and twisted rebar formed a crude mound where the hospital's entrance had once been. At its center lay the slab that had fallen from above—part of a wall, cracked clean through—and stuck to it was the man.
Strange green oozey ropes of some kind of substance held him in place, not that he could move much after that fall.
Orihime's breath caught.
He looked wrecked— barely alive.
Blood matted the front of his shirt and streaked along one side of his face. His build was lean, almost wiry, the kind that suggested strength earned the hard way rather than trained for show. Thinning blond hair clung to his forehead with sweat, and his jaw was clenched tight—not in panic, but in stubborn refusal to give in to pain. His black leather jacket was scuffed, but somehow still intact, the only thing that seemed to have spared him from being shredded by the fall.
He looked like someone who had already decided he wasn't done yet.
Orihime didn't hesitate.
"Koten Zanshun—" she whispered, her voice shaking but resolute as she knelt beside him. Light flared as her Shun Shun Rikka sprang into motion, weaving their rejection field over his broken body.
Matthew groaned as sensation returned all at once, the pain crashing into him now that he was conscious enough to feel it. His breathing was heavy, ragged—each inhale a fight, ribs clearly fractured.
He blinked, vision swimming, then focused on the two girls crouched beside him.
"…You need to get out of here," he rasped, voice rough but urgent. "Now. This place—this thing—it's not safe."
Not a word about himself.
Tatsuki stared at him like he'd just said the dumbest thing imaginable.
"Are you serious?" she snapped. "You just got thrown out of a building and you're worried about us?"
Matthew coughed, wincing, but managed a humorless huff. "Yeah. Well… I know my priorities."
Orihime's hands trembled slightly as she focused, watching shattered bone knit itself back together under her power. "P-Please don't move," she said quickly. "You're really hurt."
He looked down at the light surrounding him, eyes widening despite himself. "Wait… what are you—?"
The pain ebbed. Not gone, but muted—manageable.
Matthew stared at Orihime now, openly stunned. "That's… that's not first aid."
"No kidding," Tatsuki muttered, arms crossed as she glanced between the rubble and the ruined building above. "Okay, mister. Who are you, and why are you fighting monsters in condemned hospitals?"
He tried to push himself up, immediately thought better of it as a sharp ache lanced through his side. "Name's Matthew," he said through clenched teeth. "And I'm not fighting it—we are."
"We?" Orihime echoed.
His gaze flicked upward, toward the shattered third floor. Worry flashed across his face, sharp and unguarded. "My friend's still in there. He's the one you should be worried about."
Tatsuki followed his eyes, scowl deepening. "Let me guess. Another 'grown man in way over his head' situation?"
Matthew snorted despite the pain. "Yeah. Except this one decided to punch a Hollow with lightning."
Both girls froze.
"…What?" Tatsuki said flatly.
Orihime felt it again then—the erratic, weakening spiritual pressure above them, crackling and unstable like a storm on the verge of collapsing.
"He's going to get himself killed if you don't leave," Matthew continued, jaw tight. "And if you stay, you will too."
Orihime shook her head, tears threatening as she redoubled her focus. "I can't. I won't. He's still fighting—and so are you."
Matthew looked at her, really looked at her now. At the light. At the certainty in her voice.
A slow, incredulous breath left him. "You're… incredible," he murmured. "That power—if I'd had something like that…"
Tatsuki cut in sharply, "Hey. Don't get weird about it."
He cracked a faint smile. "Fair."
The building groaned above them.
Orihime swallowed hard. "Please," she said softly. "Tell us what we're dealing with."
Matthew's expression sobered instantly.
"…A very smart Hollow," he said. "And it's winning."
Above them, something laughed—low, amused, and very much not finished.
Orihime felt her heart sink.
They were already in it now.
Orihime drew in a steady breath and straightened her spine.
She had faced Arrancar in Hueco Mundo, watched captains fall, stood in the heart of wars that had nearly torn the worlds apart. Compared to that, a single Hollow in a collapsing hospital should have been nothing.
And yet.
This felt wrong.
It wasn't just the presence of a Hollow—it was the frequency. The instability. The way spiritual pressure had been flaring and collapsing around Karakura lately. Hachi's barrier should have been holding firm. It always did. The town was protected by layers of careful kido and planning.
So why was this happening again?
Why now?
"Please try to stay still," Orihime said gently, refocusing as she knelt beside Matthew. "I'm going to finish healing you."
Her voice was calm, warm—steady in a way that helped anchor even herself. The Shun Shun Rikka glowed brighter as she poured more intent into her rejection, rolling back fractures, sealing torn muscle, easing the trauma from his fall.
Matthew grimaced, then exhaled slowly as the pain dulled. "You do miracles like this often?" he asked, half-awed, half-disbelieving.
Orihime smiled faintly. "Only when people need them."
She glanced upward again, feeling that erratic reiatsu pulse like a wounded storm. Her jaw set.
"Tsubaki," she said softly.
"Yes, Orihime!" Tsubaki chirped, wings snapping open.
"Please scout the third floor. Let me know what's happening up there."
"You got it!" He shot upward in a streak of light, disappearing through the broken façade.
Tatsuki shifted her weight, eyes never leaving Matthew. There was concern there—real concern—but also skepticism sharpened by instinct.
"Okay," Tatsuki said slowly, "you don't feel like one of them." She jerked her chin toward the building. "So how do you even know what a Hollow is if you don't have powers?"
Matthew let out a dry breath. "Because today's been the worst orientation seminar imaginable."
That earned him a blink from both girls.
"I found out about Soul Reapers, Hollows, the afterlife, and lightning swords in the span of a few hours," he continued. "As far as I'm concerned, it's all demon-adjacent chaos."
He paused, then added more quietly, "I'm a Christian man. I believe in Jesus. So yeah—this is… a lot."
Orihime's expression softened with understanding as she worked.
"But none of that changes the fact that there's a monster in there," Matthew went on, eyes flicking back toward the ruined hospital, "and my friend is fighting it alone."
Tatsuki frowned. "You're seriously planning to go back in there? You can barely sit up."
"I don't care," he said simply. No bravado. No theatrics. Just certainty. "Powers or not, I'm not leaving him."
Orihime's hands slowed.
"…Your friend?" she asked gently.
"Orion," Matthew replied without hesitation.
Something clicked.
Orihime's eyes widened just a fraction, her heart skipping in a way she hadn't expected.
Orion.
The name echoed with memory—Rukia's voice, quieter than usual, spoken weeks ago while helping Uryū with an errand in Soul Society. The human she'd spoken of with confusion, guilt, and unmistakable affection. The married man. The one she hadn't meant to fall for.
That Orion?
Orihime looked back toward the shattered building, sensing that unstable lightning-threaded reiatsu again—fraying, desperate, but still fighting.
"…I see," she murmured.
Tatsuki noticed the shift immediately. "You know him."
"Not personally," Orihime said honestly. "But… I know of him."
Her resolve hardened into something unshakable.
Who he was. What mistakes he'd made. None of that mattered right now.
A human was fighting a Hollow to protect someone else.
Another human was bleeding out and still trying to stand.
And Orihime Inoue did not let people die when she could help it.
She looked down at Matthew, meeting his eyes with quiet intensity. "I promise you," she said, voice firm but kind, "we're not leaving him."
Matthew swallowed, then gave a weak, relieved smile. "Good," he said. "Because he's gonna need backup."
Above them, the hospital groaned again—walls cracking, spiritual pressure spiking wildly.
She held her breath without meaning to as she waited for Tsubaki.
Orihime rose to her feet, fists clenching at her sides as determination surged through her.
Whatever was happening in Karakura…
…it wasn't going to take anyone else today.
Tsubaki returned in a flash of golden light, skidding to a stop midair in front of Orihime, wings fluttering rapidly.
"Orihime!" he blurted out. "It's bad up there!"
Orihime's heart jumped. "What did you see?"
"There's a guy—human, I think—scruffy looking, covered in blood," Tsubaki said quickly, words tumbling over each other. "He's fighting the Hollow directly. It looks like some kind of panther—big, fast—with two weird tentacle things on its back. One shoots energy, the other keeps trying to grab him."
Tatsuki stiffened. "A human? Fighting that?"
Tsubaki nodded emphatically. "Yeah! And he's barely standing. Like—really barely. But he won't stop. He keeps throwing lightning around, shaping it into weapons and stuff. It's wild! He's definitely hurt the Hollow though. I can feel it—she's weaker than before."
Orihime's breath caught.
Lightning.
Her gaze snapped back to the hospital just as a deafening explosion tore through the upper floors.
BOOM.
The entire building shuddered violently, windows rattling, dust billowing outward as part of the third floor collapsed inward. A cascade of rubble followed, the sound echoing like thunder through the street. Brilliant flashes of blue-white light lit up the broken windows, followed a heartbeat later by a streak of violent red energy that scorched through the air inside.
Tatsuki instinctively took a step back. "You've gotta be kidding me…"
Another crash—closer this time—sent a wave of debris sliding down the outer wall. The hospital groaned like a wounded animal, every impact reverberating through its skeletal frame.
Orihime pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the clash of spiritual pressures hammering against her senses. The lightning-filled reiatsu was erratic now—ragged at the edges, flaring too hard and too fast, like someone burning through everything they had left.
"He's pushing himself past his limit," she whispered.
Matthew tried to sit up again, teeth clenched. "That's Orion," he said hoarsely. "That's him refusing to quit."
Orihime's expression shifted—fear giving way to something stronger.
Resolve.
Another explosion went off inside, followed by the sound of collapsing floors and the shriek of twisting metal. The flashes of blue-white light grew brighter, more frantic, punctuated by sharp bursts of crimson as the Hollow lashed back.
The building vibrated under the strain.
Orihime straightened, eyes blazing with determination. "Tatsuki," she said firmly, "stay with him. Make sure he doesn't try to run back in yet."
Tatsuki opened her mouth to argue, then stopped when she saw Orihime's face. "…Just don't die in there."
Orihime nodded once.
"Tsubaki," she said, stepping forward, spiritual energy rising around her like a shield, "lead me to them."
Tsubaki grinned, fierce and eager. "Right behind me!"
As another shockwave rippled through the hospital and lightning split the air inside, Orihime broke into a run toward the ruined entrance—heart pounding, power surging, already preparing herself to join a battle she had no intention of losing.
Not today.