SENTIENCE

Sentience:
(n.) sen·tience \ ˈsen(t)-sh(ē-)ən(t)s, ˈsen-tē-ən(t)s \
1. The quality or state of being sentient; awareness; consciousness.
2. The ability to feel, as distinguished from perception or thought.

Eg: [A heart] Without one, he existed in a state of sentience without feeling, a world of permanent grey.

CHAPTER ONE

Everything changed with a question.

It seemed innocent enough at the time.

"How long have I been here?" she asked him.

She'd long lost track of time since the beginning of her stay in Las Noches. It didn't help that there was no sun to rise and set in Hueco Mundo. Not even the pale, lonely moon shifted from its invariable phase—always a crescent; always. Nothing ever changed here.

The only thing Orihime could use to keep time were the meals he had brought to her…and she'd not thought to count them.

It had taken her ages to build up the courage to ask her question. It's not that he was awful to her—no, he really wasn't! It's just that he was so…unapproachable, forbidding and oh so very intimidating. Even the air around him radiated a crushing deterrent that bid all those who beheld him to stay away. Was it his reiatsu that she felt oppressing her so keenly? If so, and this was the feeling of Ulquiorra at rest, she'd hate to be around him when he was riled up… Could one as perpetually calm and controlled as he even get riled up? She didn't think she wanted to test it. Hence her hesitance in approaching him with her inquiry…

Regarding her in that quiet, dissecting way of his whenever she was unfortunate enough to draw his cold jade eyes to her, his answer was not something she wanted to hear.

"Ah, I see… So, you haven't noticed it yet."

The smooth tenor of his voice set all her nerves on red alert, sending small pangs of apprehension through her, like a primal instinct warning her of a predator nearby. It was not soft as one would expect from such a creature of few words as Ulquiorra. He was firm, almost discourteously direct in his cadence, and it carried, no matter what the acoustics in the room were like. It seized whomever his unlucky audience may be, enclosing them in a tense cage of disquiet. Or at least it seemed that way to Orihime, puzzled over his vague response.

"W-what do you mean by that?" she dared to question further, intent on her answers.

It seemed she'd been here for an eternity already, and she just…she just needed to know. How long? How long had it been since she'd last seen her apartment? How long had it been since she'd last seen Tatsuki-chan? And…Kurosaki-kun? Somehow, in that moment, the answers to these questions seemed like the most important thing in the world to Orihime. And she was looking at the only one who might give them to her.

She tensed when Ulquiorra moved, but bravely held her ground as he came to join her in the pale moonlight spilling in between the bars on her solitary window. The intense weight of his presence was suffocating, and in the light, he almost appeared as an ethereal being the way his colorless skin seemed to glow. He observed her fretful features emotionlessly for a short time before turning that lifeless gaze upon the curved sickle of the moon. She almost jumped when he spoke without turning to her.

"The things in this world hold no meaning." The inarguable certainty in his tone left no room to dispute this statement, even if Orihime had the nerve to try. His eyes then slid back to observe her closely as he concluded, "The human concept of time is not exempt from this… You'd be wise to abandon such notions, woman."

This answer only served to puzzle Orihime further. But when she looked at him in askance, he merely returned to contemplating the moon, as if seeing something she did not. She didn't see how that could be. It never changed, no matter how she looked at it. It never waxed, nor waned. It didn't rise or set. It was always just…standing still.

It hit her like a flying brick to the face.

"Are you saying…that time stands still here?" she trembled out in a whisper.

"At times, perhaps," he supplied vaguely, once again, "at others…perhaps not." He looked down at her. "Then again, perhaps it would be more correct to say it does not exist at all. I've told you already," he closed his eyes and turned away, heading towards the door, "it is meaningless to dwell on such trivial things, woman."

"But…" At her voice of protest, he stilled, and half turned to peer at her out of the corner of his eye. Holding a hand to her chest, a comforting move meant to shelter her from his harsh scrutiny, Orihime began, "My friends in the Living World, they…"

"Do not be concerned. It is unlikely they've noticed your absence yet." His words pierced her heart and shattered her world all at once. Surely…surely it had been days—weeks—already! They would have… "Though much of your 'time' has passed here already, it is to be expected that not even an hour has gone by in the Living World. Your friends will not miss you," Ulquiorra continued, fracturing her hopes even further. He tilted his head at her broken expression curiously. "Surely, you were not foolish enough to expect a rescue?"

"I…" she faltered out weakly, and slowly shook her head. "No, of course not. It…" She averted her eyes to the floor, finding the faded carpet at her feet a welcome reprieve from his hard eyes. "It was my choice to come here with you, after all…"

He turned to her again, seeming a bit too interested in what she had to say now.

"And why did you come?"

'To protect them,' Orihime thought desperately. 'It was all I could do… I'm not strong like the others. This is my only way to keep them safe. If I'm here, there's no reason for them to be harmed.'

But she knew that wasn't the answer Ulquiorra wanted.

"I came to be of use to Lord Aizen…" she replied dutifully but couldn't force any genuine feeling into her voice. For a startling moment, she thought she sounded remarkably like the inflectionless sentinel before her.

"Is that so…" he intoned, his expression lending no insight on whether he believed her halfhearted statement or not. He was so hard to read. Orihime was beginning to think it might just be impossible to guess what he was feeling, if indeed he felt anything at all… "And when that use comes to its inevitable end, do you know what will happen to you?"

A slow, sick sinking feeling took up residence in Orihime's middle. She almost didn't want to ask what she did next, but…she had to know.

"…Are you going to kill me, Ulquiorra?"

"Perhaps," he answered, indifferent to her pained grimace. "Although, it is unlikely Lord Aizen would command me to do so. You are of no threat to us. He is far more likely to leave you to your own devices within Las Noches… However," he added without an ounce of sympathy, "when your usefulness ends, so too does any association between the two of us. I will no longer be obligated to protect you, woman."

"I…I see," Orihime whispered, smiling a little sadly. "I'm sorry. It must be a great bother, having to take care of a human. It was never my intention to inconvenience you."

"It is of no consequence," he dismissed abruptly. "I am merely informing you of the situation. Though I may have no desire to end your life, I cannot speak for the other residents of Las Noches. In all likelihood, you will be hunted and devoured for your soul." There was no compassion in his eyes when he watched her expression fall to dismay, and he instructed, "When this time comes, you will not seek my help, nor will you become a nuisance by pleading and crying as human women do."

"Oh-no, I…" Orihime shook her head quickly. "I wouldn't want to become a nuisance to you—"

"That is wise. Because if you do," he warned, "I will kill you."

For some bizarre reason, despite the absolute sincerity of his words, this made Orihime want to laugh.

'Ulquiorra has just as much trouble dealing with crying women as Kurosaki-kun, it would seem…' she mused privately, unreasonably thrilled at the odd comparison.

She bowed her head, trying to hide a morbid smile. "I wouldn't expect anything less from Ulquiorra…"

With that, he turned once more for the door. But before he shut it behind him, he left her with some parting words.

"If you can, when the time comes, seek out Tia Halibel and her fracción." Then he added, almost as an afterthought, "She's been known to pity useless trash weaker than herself…"

And he was gone, leaving Orihime to the mercy of her tumultuous thoughts and all that she had learned.

At first, she felt outrageously insulted by his words. 'Useless trash'—what a horrible thing to call someone, even if he hadn't directly aimed it at her. He might as well have. She almost wished she'd never asked him anything at all. She would've been happier not knowing what she did now. She much preferred the silent version of Ulquiorra, she decided. His deceptively pleasant face was completely at odds with his words; whenever he opened his mouth, nothing pleasant came out. But then…this wasn't exactly a pleasant place she found herself in.

With a sick sort of jolt, Orihime realized this was Ulquiorra's way of being kind.

The thought made her strangely sad.