37 Fragments of Home

The next morning, Silas arose, seemingly accepting his circumstance. There wasn't anyone he could think of to turn to, so he believed what he saw.

The Visoreds didn't seem like threats. Most of them helped him get around town, hoping it would restore some of his memories. Though it didn't work, he appreciated their caring act.

At the warehouse, not much had changed. Members like Hiyori still treated him like everyone else. If he made a mistake, she would scold him for it. And if he seemed lost or dazed, she reminded him to get back to work. Things became so strange that he started to enjoy their quirky behaviours.

"Hiyori, why don't you take Ichigo to his old school or something," Shinji suggested.

"Why does it have to always be me taking him out to places?!" she protested.

Silas smiled at the two, saying, "Ahora puedo caminar por la ciudad por mi cuenta, para que lo sepas."

Everyone inside looked at him with peculiarity on their faces.

"Was that Spanish?" Hachigen asked.

When Silas figured that they were all looking at him as if he was another person, he was questioned by Shinji on if he always knew how to speak another language. Silas himself wasn't even aware that he had spoken Spanish.

"I'm not sure," he replied. "All I said was that I was able to walk around town on my own now."

Mashiro tried to get him to speak Spanish again, but he wasn't able. Whatever had occurred seemed to have been an anomaly.

Love found a sense of urgency, claiming that he would bring back some magazines written in Spanish for him. Even Rose stated that he would try and sing a tune in Spanish. Their acts seemed sincere, so Silas humbly accepted. He was willing to try anything if it meant his memories would return.

The following day, not only had he not gone to the school, he suggested that activating his Zanpakutō might help him recover.

"I don't think that'd be such a good idea," Hachigen claimed.

"Why's that?" he asked.

"You told us that your Zanpakutō was sealed after a hard-fought battle. Trying to release your powers might cause a backlash in restoring your memories."

Disappointed, Silas agreed to travel to the school alongside Love, Hiyori, and Lisa.

While on their walk he asked what it was like for them being Soul Reapers. Hiyori didn't hesitate to express her detest for Soul Reapers. Only because Silas had testified his knowledge on their past, did she explain to him that it was what had happened in the Seireitei that she held such hatred for them.

Love and Lisa found the subject a tad touchy, having similar feelings with Hiyori. Sensing that the topic was an irascible one, Silas determined not to ever mention things like the Soul Society again.

When they got to the high school Ichigo and his friends would attend a few years from now, they climbed all the way to the top of a building and remained out of sight.

"Well," Love wondered. "Do ya remember anything?"

Silas looked around, smiling. Since he hadn't responded, Hiyori dropkicked his back, pushing him to the edge.

"Why'd you do that?" Silas asked, shrugging it off.

"Because, Baldy! You're just staring off into space and not answering!"

For the first time in what felt like a long time, Silas laughed. His charming features and delicate tone confused the three Visoreds. Though he had lost his memories, he didn't at all seemed bothered or troubled by it. He was like a child without a care in the world.

When his laughter turned to giggles, Hiyori's face began to blush as she asked, "What's so funny?!"

"Ha-ha. It's nothing," he said, rubbing his eyes. "I just never imagined how much you guys cared until now."

The sudden gesture caused Love and Lisa to give a warm smile. Hiyori, who thought Silas had gone insane, pointed at him and said, "Of course we care for you! You're one of us and we treat each other like family."

Neither Love nor Lisa ever thought Hiyori would express herself so openly to someone. That alone strengthened the bond between the Visoreds and Silas.

After a few hours, the group eventually returned home.

Silas wasn't able to recall anything important. Not wishing to make their efforts feel wasted, he offered to cook tonight. Hiyori teased him if he would cook Lisa's favourite meal, causing the latter to blush.

"It's strange," he pondered. "There are a lot of things I don't remember, but I actually know what her favourite food was."

The three looked at each other, happy that they would be served yakitori tonight. The last time Silas cooked it, they begged him to cook more.

Everything seemed to be in place, so he wasted no time preparing the right ingredients. Beans were carefully boiled, vegetables were sliced accordingly, and the chicken was pan fried to perfection.

In the midst of cooking, Rose came home and could practically smell something tangy in the kitchen. He offered to help, but Silas denied, claiming that he needed to start pulling his own weight. That's when Love explained to Rose what happened back at the school. Touched that Silas didn't seem any different than before his memories were lost, they all allowed him to cook undisturbed.

A few hours later, Kensei, Mashiro, and Shinji returned. Their nostrils were engulfed by the captivating aroma coming from the kitchen.

Hiyori had just woken from her nap. Seeing that the three were late and had barely finished their chores, she threatened them that they would be the last to eat the yakitori being prepared. Mashiro began calling her a "meanie" until Shinji took one more whiff of the air and said, "That doesn't smell like yakitori."

Silas finished cooking by placing two large casserole pans on the kitchen table.

"Alright!" he announced. "Food's ready, everyone."

When all the Visoreds came to see the dish, they were each confused as to why yakitori wasn't served.

"Ichigo, what gives?" Love said. "Lisa was drooling all over the floor just now."

"I was not!" she quickly countered.

"What do you mean?" Silas wondered. "I cooked what she liked the most."

On the table were tomatillos with roasted peppers bubbling with melted cheese that was laced with crema. The corn tortillas hidden within the tender chicken breast were practically still steaming. The dish itself both looked and smelled amazing, but it undoubtedly wasn't yakitori; it was enchiladas verdes.

Little had either of them knew, enchiladas verdes was what Silas's wife liked to eat the most.