221: Chapter 221 Evening Gown and the Contradictory Body

...In the flickering light and shadows of the cinema screen, Ichigo stared fixedly at the profile of the "girl" beside him.

Mia was still recalling Ichigo's bitter pleading just now, hoping she could resurrect Inoue Orihime. But she couldn't do it. Besides, even if she were resurrected, she would be the hypnotized girl who willingly offered herself to Aizen. What would that have to do with you, Kurosaki Ichigo?

In the end, Mia compromised, accompanying Kurosaki Ichigo to a movie in the capacity of his childhood friend.

Mia could feel this human skin seeping certain traits of Orihime into her—for instance, she was now unconsciously playing with her long blonde hair with her fingers. This was a nervous habit of Orihime's. And when bloody scenes appeared in the horror movie, this body actually produced an involuntary flinching reaction.

"Stop pretending," Ichigo said suddenly.

"It's this skin acting on its own," Mia (Orihime form) irritably tugged at her blonde hair, which was longer than before she put on this layer of skin, the tips already reaching mid-thigh. "Your little girlfriend's physical constitution is too weak, and her mental fortitude is even worse. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been so thoroughly hypnotized by Aizen..."

She suddenly paused. Ichigo's hand was covering the back of hers, his warmth transmitting through the outer layer. Even worse, this body instinctively grasped his hand.

When the movie ended, it was pouring rain. "Orihime's" white dress was soaked through until it was transparent. Mia could clearly feel the subtle changes in the skin under the washing rain—the body became more sensitive, the sway of her hips began to increase uncontrollably, and even the madness shared with Aizen in a hypnotic state last night began to replay in her mind...

"Damn these rotten memories. Is Sosuke Aizen really that thirsty?" she cursed inwardly, only to find herself unconsciously deploying Santen Kesshun to shield Ichigo from the rain.

This guy actually retrieved Inoue Orihime's [Shun Shun Rikka]?! And he even put them on her?!!

The hug came unexpectedly. As Ichigo's trembling transmitted through their pressed chests, Mia (Orihime form) found her hand rising—she had intended to deliver a slap, but the body's instinct changed it into an embrace.

"You won't see her again after this," Mia said before getting into the taxi. Rainwater dripped from her blonde hair onto the seat. "Tonight counts as a final farewell..."

"I know," Ichigo interrupted her. "Thank you."

As the vehicle drove into the curtain of rain, Mia saw him through the rear window, squatting on the ground and weeping silently. Well, this big boy is heartbroken.

Mia turned off her phone and threw her soaking wet self onto the bedroom bed. The villa was pitch black, with only the sound of raindrops drumming against the window.

"Tsk, what a hassle..."

She looked down at her hands—the fingers were slender and soft, with traces of the light pink nail polish Inoue Orihime favored remaining on the edges of the nails. She subconsciously rubbed her thumb and pinky joints; this was a habitual movement of Orihime's, repeatedly touching them with her index finger when thinking or anxious.

The bodily reactions were more stubborn than she had imagined.

Mia reached out to brush away the wet hair clinging to her collarbone, her gaze falling on the standing mirror in the room.

Under the dim yellow light, "Inoue Orihime" stood there, her soaked white dress clinging to her skin, revealing a looming silhouette.

But her gaze was not the soft shyness of a girl; it was Mia's characteristic cold, appraising look.

"...Interesting."

She reached out to touch her collarbone and shoulders—Orihime's frame was a size smaller than hers, the skin felt equally delicate, and the skeletal curves were softer. When her palm covered the curves of "her own" chest, she frowned slightly—this body, which had just experienced its first time, was far more sensitive than her own. Mia felt a bit ashamed; after all, she hadn't tried that sort of thing herself yet.

"...So this is what her sense of touch is like?"

Mia muttered to herself, her fingertips giving an unconscious squeeze. As a result, the body immediately produced a subtle shuddering reaction. She quickly withdrew her hand, her expression somewhat complex.

Outside the window, the faint sound of Ichigo and Tuaner arguing could be heard. It seemed Tuaner had found the Rikka hairpins Ichigo picked up and had placed them on Mia's head.

Mia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to suppress the lingering sense of "unease" in this body.

—Consequently, the body naturally wrapped its arms around its own shoulders, like a self-soothing gesture habitual to Inoue Orihime.

Mia: ...Damn it. I've turned into an innocent girl in a second.

In the early morning, the living room light was dim. Ichigo was slumped on the sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling. Tuaner sat cross-legged opposite him, fiddling with the Rikka hairpins Mia had left on the table.

"Are you still thinking about her?" Tuaner narrowed her eyes. "She's gone."

Ichigo didn't answer, merely reaching for a beer can on the coffee table.

When Mia (Orihime form) walked down the stairs, Tuaner's eyes widened. Ichigo's fingers paused mid-air.

—The "Inoue Orihime" before them had changed into the black evening gown Mia often wore. Water droplets still dripped from the tips of her hair, and her bare feet stepped on the floor, toes clad in black silk stockings curling slightly. But her entire being exuded a sense of languid danger that didn't belong to Orihime—beautiful and lethal.

"Fortunately, my own clothes still fit," Mia quipped to herself.

Ichigo: "..."

He stared at Mia, then looked away, his expression indescribable.

Tuaner spun her chakram in her palm and narrowed her eyes with a half-smile: "Yo~ Are you getting addicted to the role?"

Mia ignored her teasing and sat down on the other end of the sofa, crossing her legs. Her movements were casual and full of Mia's personality, yet the body's instinct made her posture unconsciously carry a bit of Orihime's restraint and primness—the two contradictory traits merged together, creating a bizarre charm instead.

"This is a bit different from the situation with Shihou Tsu before," Mia said, also sounding a bit uncertain as she spoke to Tuaner.

"Shihou Tsu was dead," Mia said, deliberating on how to phrase her next words. "But even though Inoue Orihime was killed by Taotie, I always have the feeling that she's alive."

Ichigo snapped his head up: "Really?!"

Mia glanced at him: "What does it have to do with you? Anyway, her consciousness has been erased. Even if she's not dead, she belongs to Aizen now. Stop thinking about her."

Tuaner whistled: "Ha, so how do you feel right now? Coexisting with Miss Orihime's lingering soul?"

Mia looked down at her slender fingers and sneered: "No, it's simply like wearing a piece of 'living clothing' that reacts on its own."

—Just as she finished speaking, her hand suddenly twitched, like some kind of bodily instinct.

Mia frowned, trying to suppress it, but the body actually quietly curled its fingertips, as if afraid of something.

She kept her expression taut and didn't speak. As a result, both Ichigo and Tuaner stared at her, the atmosphere subtly awkward.

Mia couldn't take it anymore: "...What are you looking at?!"

"Are you..." Tuaner tilted her head, "blushing right now?"

Mia: "?????"

—She looked down and saw her fingertips unconsciously twisting together. This was clearly Orihime's habitual movement when nervous!

Mia became angry from embarrassment and grabbed the beer from the coffee table, taking a sudden swig.

"...Why are you drinking beer?" Tuaner asked.

Mia gave her a cold look: "I'm drinking it."

"...Orihime doesn't drink," Ichigo said suddenly.

"Heh." Mia put down the beer can. "The point is, I am Inoue Orihime right now—I'll drink if I want to."

—But the next second, the irritation from the alcohol caused this young girl's body, which was unaccustomed to drinking, to cough violently. Her face flushed red, and even physiological tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.

Ichigo: "..."

Tuaner couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Oh ho, did the act fail?"

Mia gritted her teeth: "...Shut up!!"

On the balcony late at night, Mia sat alone on the railing, the night breeze blowing through her golden hair.

Ichigo leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, silently watching her back.

"Based on the zanpakuto's ability, there are three hours left," he said softly. "...She will disappear completely?"

Mia didn't turn around: "The involuntary little movements of my body will disappear completely..."

"What if..." Ichigo's voice choked up, "what if I don't want that?"

Kurosaki Ichigo suddenly pinned Mia against the balcony's French window, in a move widely known as a "kabedon."

Mia finally turned her face to look at him. Under the moonlight, those pale gold pupils held a sharpness and coldness that Orihime never possessed.

"You don't want that?!" Mia's silk-gloved hand pinched Ichigo's chin. "I think you're looking for death..."

Ichigo froze.

Mia gave a light laugh and turned back to look at the distant night: "Don't be stupid, Kurosaki Ichigo. You can't save her, just like you can't save anyone."

The wind swept across the balcony, and Orihime's blonde hair scattered in the air before slowly falling back down.

In this moment, her back looked exactly like that girl who used to sit by the classroom window reading alone, always wearing a gentle smile.

But if one looked closely—the way she tilted her head slightly, the touch of irony at the corner of her lips—it was all Mia.

The night wind howled. Ichigo clenched his fists and said nothing.

[Paradise Lost System reminds the adventurer: the current sole protagonist of this dungeon world, Kurosaki Ichigo, is on the verge of collapse. Please do not provoke him. Appropriately extend the role-play or limit it to the time you are wearing Inoue Orihime's skin... Don't mess around, or else your companions will all die!]