"How does it feel?"
Orihime started, and spun around. Aizen was standing right behind her, but she hadn't heard him approach.
"Well?" He asked again, his gaze never wavering and his voice soft and calm. A voice that had been the last thing thousands of souls would ever hear.
"I am asking you how it feels to be completely at the mercy of one of the most powerful beings in existence?" he asked again.
"I have removed your Shunshun Rikka, so you have no means of attacking, or defending yourself. Your life is… in my hands."
Orihime could not speak, the words choked in her throat.
"You're afraid," Aizen said, with a slight smile. "Don't be."
He reached out his hand and touched her, his fingertips resting lightly on her throat.
She stiffened. Not out of pain, his fingers were as gentle as a summer breeze; it was in revulsion at the unexpected contact.
Tears, of fear or disgust she knew not which, welled in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. A small whimper escaped her lips. She shut her eyes and turned her head away, ashamed to show such weakness.
'I have to be strong,' she thought wildly. 'I have to be strong like Rukia and Ichigo.'
"Now, now," Aizen chided her softly, in the sort of voice one might use when calming an overexcited child. He took her chin in his other hand and turned her head to face him. "A beautiful girl like you shouldn't cry."
But something in her eyes made his smile fade from his lips and his warm, brown eyes narrow to be cold and hard. One moment he was right in front of her, the next he was standing a few paces away, his back to her.
"Who do you belong to, Orihime Inoue?" He asked; his voice now as cold and as serious as nuclear winter.
She hesitated, caught off guard by the suddenness of his question. "I…er…'"
Suddenly, he was in front of her, backhanding her across the face.
She stumbled backwards, her ears ringing and blood trickling down her chin from a split lip. Tears poured freely down her cheeks and her body trembled.
Blinded by tears, she heard Aizen walking towards her over the cold stone floor. She shrank away from him, until her back hit a wall; still his footsteps came toward her. She hugged her own shivering body and closed her eyes.
'Please,' she thought desperately. 'Please, make it stop!' she slid down the wall and slumped to the cold floor in a pathetic huddle. Aizen stopped in front of her. Then he bent down, a smile on his face.
"I think I'll ask again," he said. "Who do you belong to?" The only answer was a muffled whimper.
"I can't hear you."
Orihime lifted her tear-stained face.
"No," she whispered defiantly.
The Aizen unleashed some of his spiritual pressure.
Orihime tipped her head back and let out a silent gasp as the air thickened and grew heavy. Each breath was like breathing molten metal as the air around her trembled and sweat trickled up her forehead. She could feel the raw power seeping through the pores in her skin and crushing her spirit.
Suddenly, Aizen withdrew his spiritual pressure, leaving her wide-eyed and gasping for air. Then one of the massive double doors swung open and a small, thin figure walked in. Aizen straightened up.
"Ah, Ulquiorra," he said, smiling genially. The 4th Espada stopped and bowed.
"What are your orders, Lord Aizen?" His voice was smooth and expressionless. The gaze of his liquid green eyes was fixed on Aizen. His master, his creator; the one he would gladly die for.
"Take Orihime Inoue back to her room and return her power," Aizen said, reaching down and pulling Orihime to her feet. "Then you will resume your duties over her until I say otherwise."
Aizen gave her a gentle push and Orihime half stumbled, half fell towards Ulquiorra, who put out his hand and caught hold of her arm to steady her. The instance his gaze faltered, Aizen was beside him. Ulquiorra's eyes widened a little, but he said nothing.
You failed me, Ulquiorra," Aizen said quietly. "I told you, to break her." His hand reached up to rest on Ulquiorra's shoulder. Ulquiorra closed his eyes and bowed his head in acknowledgment. "I understand Lord Aizen. Please punish me as you see fit."
Aizen released his grip. "Demonstrate your loyalty to me by tearing out your own eye," said Aizen, a beatific smile on his face.
Ulquiorra opened his eyes in puzzlement. That was no great punishment for him; it was a menial task, a triviality. Lord Aizen knew that, so why…?' His thoughts tailed off as realization dawned.
Almost imperceptibly, his eyes flicked towards Orihime. She had heard Aizen's command and was staring aghast at Ulquiorra in horrified disbelief. The look on her face mad Ulquiorra's missing heart ache; she didn't know about his regenerative abilities.
"Is something wrong, Ulquiorra?" Aizen asked, smiling gently. Ulquiorra's attention reverted back to Aizen. "No, Lord Aizen." With pale fingers he reached up to his face.
It was with a sickly sucking sound that he tore out the glistening orb, viscous white fluid oozing from between his fingers. Even though his eye was tightly shut to hide the gaping socket, dark blood seeped from beneath his eyelid and mingled with the white and green on his cheek.
All the colour had drained from Orihime's face. She felt the bile rise in her throat as she looked at the eye staring at her from Ulquiorra's hand.
Aizen just smiled.