Author's Note: Yay for a random UlquiHime drabble! Many thanks to cafra of LiveJournal for inspiring it! This one's for you, UlquiHime LJ community! I may rewrite this one someday from a more narrative standpoint, because I think there's a lot of imagery here that just begs to be exploited.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach nor any of its respective characters, settings, etc. If I did, there would be some definite Arrancar!Hime junk goin' down right now.


"Broken Fence"

"She trusts you."

Even now Aizen's words – uttered in that eerily paternal voice of his – bounced off Las Noches' halls. The reverberating echo was accompanied only by Ulquiorra's footsteps, the soles of his shoes padding briskly through the marble citadel.

"As long as she has trust, she has hope."

Ulquiorra rounded a corner, allowing his thoughts to fall in tune with his steps. Truthfully, he didn't want to repeat Aizen's order like a mantra, but found he couldn't silence it. Instead, he made his feet fall just a bit heavier, hoping the scuffling would drown out the odious chant in his mind.

"As long as she has hope, she is of no use to me."

The somber Arrancar strode down the final corridor, nearing a familiar door. Light peeked out from under the frame, spilling onto the floor in a resplendent golden puddle. A bit ironic, he mused, that the yellow glimmer would only serve to illuminate the dull shades of grey coating the walls.

"Sever it."

He didn't so much as knock before his fingers wrapped around the doorknob, twisting soundlessly. The glare of the bulbs bloomed through the sliver, a widening pillar of brilliance as the door opened. It was blinding, yet he refused to squint.

"Ulquiorra-san?" Orihime Inoue's soft voice called, meek yet strong in that strange way of hers.

He gave her a frank stare and shut the door behind him, his only reply being the soft click of the lock.

"Is it dinner already?" she asked, rising from her seat.

"Sit," he commanded.

He noticed her gulp as she obeyed. "Okay."

Ulquiorra shoved his hands in his pockets habitually, unblinking. He watched for a few moments as she twitched and squirmed beneath his gaze – quirks that bemused him at first, but that he'd now grown accustomed to.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, and felt only the tiniest knot of dread.

Orihime gave him an odd look, barely stopping herself from wringing her hands. "Yes."

Ulquiorra sighed, or at least mustered the closest thing as he could. He motioned for her to rise and approached her, eyes remaining transfixed.

Pity, he thought. I vaguely enjoyed the feeling of being trusted.

Orihime opened her mouth to speak – a prying question, or perhaps something else – but was silenced when his palm flew across her cheek. She stumbled a bit, her feet knocking into the chair.

"W-why?" she stuttered, hand cradling her reddened face.

He provided a quick answer as the backs of his knuckles violently kissed her other cheek. She staggered, tripping over the chair and falling to the ground in a clumsy heap.

"Do you trust me?" he asked again, towering over her ominously.

She looked up, her eyes watery yet devoid of fear. "Yes."

"Stand."

She did as she was told, heaving herself up with as much dignity as she could muster. Ulquiorra immediately stripped it away, delivering another hard slap that sent her reeling. He continued, the only sounds in the room being the sharp smack of skin on skin and Orihime's pathetic attempt at choking back tears.

When she was on the floor again, he prodded, "Do you trust me?"

Tears perched precariously on her damp eyelashes, threatening to spill over. Still, she answered, "Yes."

"Stand."

She found her way up again, having trouble balancing on unsteady legs. Her large eyes searched his, a hazel mixture of desperation and confusion. Those eyes, such masterpieces of emotion and conviction, hollowed him. The next hit he did not regret.

Orihime grew weaker as she lay on the ground, body trembling and lip split. Blood trickled down her chin, speckling her white uniform as she tried to suppress tremors.

He leant over her, trailing lambent fingertips across the cut. "Do you trust me?"

She wiped away her tears with tightly balled fists. "Yes."

Something unfamiliar overcame Ulquiorra, and he wrapped his thin fingers around her neck. Lifting her effortlessly, he had her pinned against the wall and gasping for air in seconds.

"Why can you not lie?" he hissed. "I give you the opportunity to save yourself, and yet you do not lie!"

Orihime's tiny hands clawed at his fingers, her nails scraping and snapping.

"Answer me!" he pressured, tightening his grip.

She sputtered and panted, choking out fragments of words. At last a sentence formed. "My brother told me to never lie about trust!"

Ulquiorra's eyes widened and then narrowed before he released her. She slid to the floor, rasping and hacking and spitting out sweat.

"Stand."

Granting him a weary glance, her nails raked the wall as she searched for a hold. Finally dragging herself up, she shakily supported herself as her eyes scoured his.

"Do you trust me?" he chided, tone low and even.

"Yes," she said. "Do you trust me?"

For the slightest moment, Ulquiorra felt a tinge of sorrow. Then, in one swift motion, he stretched his palm open and struck Orihime's face. It was the hardest blow yet, and left a distinct white imprint on her skin. She fell back and clattered into the wall, collapsing at his feet.

Ulquiorra shut his eyes, considering his report finished.

"Do you trust me?" he questioned a final time.

"Yes," she admitted, choking back sobs.

Kneeling down, he placed a gentle hand on top of her head, despite seeing nothing but darkness behind his closed lids. "Learn to cry or learn to lie," he told her. "There are those who will not spare you."

She looked at him curiously as he left, quietly shutting the door. Surrendering, she allowed an anguished snivel to escape her throat as tears streamed down her face.

However, in spite herself, she smiled a bit. "But there are those who will."

Fin