It was you
It was Sunday, 12:01 a.m. when she woke. The sun shining through her window annoyingly bright. Another day goes by, and I live this secret existence that my family has no knowledge of. She ponders the possiblity of revealing to her parents what she does all day. Eh well time to rise and face the inevitable shine I suppose.
The raven haired girl finally hops out of bed, as if propelled by springs. Normal people put their pants on one leg at a time. I wear a skirt so where does that leave me. The thought was followed by a chuckle, as she searched her always empty room for potential peepers. She found none. She swept up a bag on her nightstand and made for the door. Time to seize this day!
"Mom, I'm heading out!" She called on her way down the stairs in one step, and straight through the door in another. She sprinted a few minutes until she felt she was a safe enough distance away from then she surveyed her surroundings again for peepers. Again she found none. She dove here hand into the bad she picked up before leaving, to pull out a mask. The mask was that of a girl, with blue eyes and a slight smile. The face had no remarkable features, if anything it was plain. Just simple. Again she reached into the bag, this time retrieving a blue wig, with tousled boyish hair. She dawned the attire, and took off for the nearest wall.
I never get tired of this look. She made her way up the wall in a few steps and climb, where she stood atop the small building seeking a higher vantage point upon which to perch. Soon after it was discovering one she made for it like cat. Effortlessly, swift and agile. Now two stories high she could see what she needed to see. hear what she needed to hear. The now bluenette scanned the area for her target, but found none. She close here eyes and became the wind. The sound moving through her as would a breeze.
"Give it back! Somebody, help!" cried a woman from down below. With no hesitation the girl leapt high into the air, to land before the screming lady and her perpetrator, silently. The mans attacking the woman hadn't even noticed the extra.
"You heard her, dimwit. Give it back." the blue hairded girl spoke clearly with out shouting. The man grunted as he turned. Now facing her she sized him up. he was a brute, about 6 foot 7, in a biker jacket and jeans. Wide as a train and probably able to stop one.
"What'd you say." he spoke. his voice was dull and uneducated.
"I said, You heard her, dimwit. Give...It...back..." she reiterated, inunciating certain words. The brute laughed at her,
"Yea, and who's gonna make me girly." the second time he spoke, she noticed something odd. A brooklyn accent? Odd.
"I will. Now this is my final time telling you. Give it back."
"Make me" he boasted. Tempting her out of being docile. She happily accepted the bait. She lunged for the lug who took a heavy, round house swing at her. That punch was tapped, sending it flying right at his own face. Followed by a small but poweful knee. The lummox stumbled back, shocked and in pain.
"What the, I'll murder you, you little freak." Again he charged her, this time with both arms spread wide in a grapple position. Hm, too wide to go past. too tall to go over. guess I'll go through. She thought this as she slid between the thug's legs. On the other side she waited for him to gather his bearings and continue his assult. He turned, confused, and more pissed than ever.
"Enough games!" he shouted "It's time to end this." he reached into a pocket in his jacket, and pulled a switch blade. Swirling the blade expertly in his hand he went at the blue haired girl. Damn it, coward. She avoided his blade in a simultaneous left punch to the nose, followed by a right slap to his ear. Continuing her assault she spoke,
"Weapons are for cowards, and if you're weak enough to use one in battle you truly deserve to die like a weakling." The slap that knocked him off balance, was used as an opportunity to grab the blade. She got it and discarded it to the ground a few feet away. now with nothing between her and her victim she made no light hits. A few jabs to the chest followed by kicks to the legs. He was now grounded and defenseless. At his new position of being on his knee he was now low enough for her favorite move. Leaping into the air she performed a perfect front flip with her strong right leg landing a devastating blow on the giant's head. Unconscious he fell. That was an interesting workout. Oh That's right!
Next to the sleeping giant lay the bag that the girl fought so hard to protect. She picked them up and turned to face the girl. Orange locks cascading over a face built from clouds of heaven stood before her. The orange haird girl held her hand out with many words built up.
"Thank you so much! That was amazing. Who are you. Oh my gosh i'm going to be so late. Who are you, I'd like to thank you."
"Oh it's no problem, i do this kind of thing all the time." She blushed, beneath the mask. "I can't tell you who I am, you know secret identity and all, heh heh, but all that's important is that you're safe now, 'Hime." Crap!
"How'd you know my name?" the orange haired beauty asked, bewildered.
"Oh uh... i didn't." she awkardly lied. "I called you Hime, ya know like princess. that's your name too? Strange." more nervous chuckles came.
"Well actualy it's Orihime, but still thank you. I'll call you the Vigilante. Thank you Vigilante. Would you like one of my treats for saving me?" She mentaly laughed. Wow, ofcourse she'd almost get herself killed over snacks. Where the hell does she put it for that matter.
"No thank you, I'm not much of a sweets person. You said you were late?"
"Oh heavens, yes. Today's the aniversary of the time my best friend saved me and i was going to bring her these snacks as another thank you."
"Well I'll let you be on your way, be safe." she called to the fleeing sweet heart.
"Will do, and you do the same." Orihime called back.
Guess i'm calling it a day early, after only one. Ah well, she's worth it. She maneuvered the roof tops as if they were the lines on her hand. She knew them all so well and she followed them perfectly to her house. She leapt in through the upstairs window that acted as her alarm clock. Luckily she kept it open. Into the room she jumped and in the same movement removed her hero atire. She shouted a greeting to her mother to alert her to her return.
"Mom, I'm back."
"Shout much, I'm right here." she retorted with a loving sarcasm. "So what's the deal with your hair, is that some new modern trend I will never be apart of?"
"My hair...?" Oh! She snatched the wig off of her head and threw it back into her room. "It's nothing. Something fro school" She scrambled to find a logical response. That seemed good enough.
"On a saturday?"
"What's with the 5th degree? Am I on trial here?" The door bell interupted her rant. Saved by the bell. "I'll get that!" she took a single step down the entire flight of stairs again, and stopped at the door, to chech herself for anymore Vigilante residue. Hm, Vigilante. You never know what that girl'll say. Kind of nice though. She opned the door in a swift movement and shared a hug with the girl waiting on the other side.
"Hime what brings you over today?"
"Just stopping by to give you these treats, and say thanks again."
"What a surprise." The two continued their chat as she led Orihime in all the while acting none the wiser.
It was Monday 8:05, when Orihime came running across the courtyard to greet her friends, with a big chesty hug. They stood their waiting, none more that Chizuru. However Chizuru's guardian devil stood close by to ensure that she didn't get too handsy on her morning hug. She did, and that prompted said guardian to take action. She bopped Izuru hard once on the head.
"I told you to stop touching Orihime like that you dimwit." Everything was going as usual with Chizuru taking extra privelges, and being put in her place. When suddenly orihime made an odd sound, and a weird face. She seemed pensive.
"You alright 'Hime?" she asked.
"It was you, Tatsuke."
A/E/N I hand't written in a while but lately have been having a streak of over activity so i manage dto squeeze writing this into that time. I liked this tory I feel as though I wrote out of my usual style. Only one way to know though. R&R
P.S. I don't own this series Bleach. Tite Kubo does. If I made a dime off of these stories their'd be 100 of them. So I could but a soda with the profits. I'm so thirsty. Make that 100 AND 1, ya kno wit taxes and all.