Rain fell softly on Musutafu.
The streets glimmered with reflections of hero billboards and café lights. Between the hum of hovercars and the chatter of students from U.A., a young woman in a pink umbrella walked alone — smiling faintly, though her eyes carried the quiet ache of another world.
Her name was Orihime Inoue.
She was eighteen, living in a modest apartment a few blocks from U.A. High. To her coworkers at the maid café, she was just another cheerful girl — always polite, always kind, always a little… distant.
But behind her gentle smile hid memories of a world where ghosts and hollows once roamed.
A world she no longer belonged to.
---
🌧️ A Memory That Never Fades
Sometimes, when she looked at the orange sky of sunset, she saw his face —
Ichigo Kurosaki, the boy who had saved her so many times.
The boy she loved, who had chosen another.
She had smiled, told him she was happy.
And she was — truly. She wanted him to be.
That night, when the world fell into quiet, Orihime whispered to the stars:
> "I'm glad it was her, Ichigo. Please… keep smiling for me."
And then came the light — a burst of reiryoku, a fading breath, and then darkness.
When she opened her eyes again, the sky was new, the air tasted different, and her soul no longer felt the weight of Hollows.
She had been reborn.
---
🌸 A Normal Life (or Something Like It)
"Welcome home, Master~!"
Her bright voice echoed across the cozy maid café in downtown Musutafu.
Customers adored her warmth — how every smile felt real, how her kindness never seemed forced.
No one knew that her laughter came from a girl trying to remember what happiness felt like.
She lived quietly, avoided trouble, and kept her strange abilities hidden.
Her Shun Shun Rikka still answered her call — six tiny spirits fluttering like petals around her when she was alone.
> "Ayame, Shun'ō… we mustn't be seen," she whispered one night.
"This isn't Karakura anymore. People here… call powers like ours quirks."
They nodded, their faint voices echoing softly in her heart.
She thought she could keep it secret forever.
She was wrong.
---
💥 The Night of the Crash
It happened after her late shift. The rain had grown heavier, the road slick with neon reflections.
Orihime walked home, umbrella in hand, humming softly — until a screech of tires tore through the night.
A small car spun out of control, crashing into a light post.
Flames burst from the hood. A mother screamed from inside.
Without thinking, Orihime ran.
The heat burned her face, smoke filled her lungs, but she pressed her hand against the shattered window.
Her heart screamed louder than her fear.
> "Sōten Kisshun! I reject!"
Golden petals burst from her hairpins — forming a luminous shield around the wreck.
The fire bent backward, the shattered glass reassembled, the wounds of the passengers simply undid themselves.
Within seconds, the car was whole again.
The woman blinked, uninjured.
The child in the back seat gasped, "Mommy… the angel healed us!"
Before anyone could react — before heroes could arrive — Orihime stepped back, trembling.
Her power still glowed faintly, petals dissolving into the air.
Sirens approached in the distance.
She turned and ran.
---
🏥 The Witness
At that moment, a small elderly woman nearby — wrinkled, wise, and carrying a cane — had seen everything.
Recovery Girl had been walking home from a meeting at U.A. Hospital when she saw the miracle.
She squinted, trying to glimpse the girl's face, but the rain and the glow obscured it.
> "That wasn't a quirk…" she murmured.
"That girl — she reversed the accident."
By the time heroes arrived, the mysterious savior was gone — leaving behind only faint traces of residual golden energy.
Recovery Girl would later record the event in a confidential report:
> "Unknown healer. Reality rejection phenomenon. Possible link to Quirk: Rewind.
Must investigate."
---
🌙 Back in Her Apartment
Orihime shut the door behind her, breathing hard.
Her hairpins pulsed faintly, the voices of her six fairies whispering softly.
> Shun'ō: "You saved them, Orihime!"
Tsubaki: "And nearly exposed yourself, idiot."
Ayame: "But wasn't it beautiful?"
Orihime laughed weakly, sinking to her knees.
> "I didn't mean to… I just couldn't let them die."
Outside, sirens wailed — heroes searching for a nameless girl.
Inside, Orihime looked at her trembling hands, remembering Ichigo, Rukia, her death, her rebirth.
> "Maybe… this time, I can save people without fighting."
She smiled softly, unaware that her light had already drawn the eyes of four men who would soon change her destiny —
a winged hero watching from the rooftops,
a masked villain obsessed with purity,
a scarred man with fire in his eyes,
and a decaying hand reaching toward hope.