Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach nor any of its characters. If I did, this wouldn't have happened. Read at your own risk, please.

Flashbacks in italics

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Upon her death, a Shinigami was personally sent for her.

But he protected her – she was not to be found.

Now, two years later, they realized their mistake. They should not have trusted that young, pale man with green eyes and coal hair. That man who was her roommate, and who was not actually a man at all. Because he was none other than the Arrancar, Ulquiorra Schiffer. And he was to be approached will all due care.

Now, they sent two lieutenants. All for her.

Indeed, all to protect her.

"Where is Orihime Inoue's soul, Cuatro Espada Ulquiorra Schiffer?" demanded the one who called himself Renji.

"Ex, actually." The half-hollow replied, casually tilting his cramping neck.

"Pardon?"

Ulquiorra sighed in annoyance.. How much longer were they gonna sit within his domain and pester him? His eyes flicked to the clock on the far wall. 3pm, it read. They've been here for two hours, at least. He supposed he could allow them to stall for another 4 hours at most, before they absolutely have to go.

The female Shinigami, with her dark flaxen hair almost reminiscent of hers, had been staring at him fixatedly the entire time. She hadn't introduced herself, but Ulquiorra knows of her identity like he knew which of Orihime's smiles were fake and which were real: Rangiku Matsumoto. He supposed that it was because his woman had been best friends with her that she felt personally responsible for that previously failed deliverance.

Rangiku stared and stared, large, pleading eyes going ignored. Ulquiorra's mind had drifted to the day that they were first introduced to each other. His woman had been particularly ecstatic, he recalled. It was a day recently snowed, and with the arrival of many friends, they were going to have a cosy Christmas inside.

"Rangiku, Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra, meet Rangiku," Orihime introduced in her lovey, lively voice. She ushered in the guests before heading back to the kitchen.

"Oh my gosh!" The busty Shinigami immediately gasped. Brushing aside his frosty glare, she proceeded to lean her nose into his personal space. "He's so mysterious and hot! Sorta like my Gin!"

"Gin?" He had questioned, and to his satisfaction she drew back.

A nostalgic look overtook her face. "Yes, Gin Ichimaru. Do you know him? You must have seen him."

"Ah, Gin. No and yes to your questions." Even though Ulquiorra had been Aizen's most trusted of all the Espada, about Gin, he knows as much as all the others. Till the end, he wonders if anyone knew him at all since his true intention had never been to aid Aizen in his conquest. "He was unapproachable, untrustworthy and I suppose, a lonely man."

Instead of feeling appeased by his answer, she looked even more regretful. "That's my Gin," she sighed at last.

Ulquiorra watched as she slowly collected herself. In the same way that Orihime sometimes masks her true feelings, the Shinigami gave out an exaggerated whoop of joy before merging straight into the traffic that was for the drinks. He might still be new to the understanding of feelings and the heart, but he had a hunch that there wasn't going to be any alcohol left by the end of the night. He was disgusted that people could ever resort to 'dumbing' themselves.

After the guests had all arrived, the humans initiated the gift exchange event which Orihime had earlier explained to him. They had played several games afterwards – some of them inappropriate – while watching movies and eating food, that was, thankfully, not prepared by Orihime. Throughout the night, he had received wary glances but never any direct hostility, which he was grateful of. Not that he was weak, but because he would rather not ruin something that his roommate is thoroughly enjoying.

At one point in the night, he had decided to isolate himself from the now extremely unpleasant group. He sniffed when a strong alcoholic smell followed him to the couch.

"How long do you plan to stay with her?" A drunk Rangiku settled beside him. In her hand was a bottle of sake.

"I don't plan to ever leave her, if that's what you are asking." He answered plainly, without hesitation.

The woman looked at him with steady eyes. "You do know humans have a limited lifespan, right?"

"Yes, I still intend to stay with her for as long as possible."

"Really," She said with slight astonishment. He says only the truth, why would she doubt him?

Just then, Orihime approached the duo. Rangiku turned to her with a grin. "I'm starting to like this guy!" She had said.

When the party was over and everyone had already left, it was this Shinigami that left last, reeking of alcohol. "Hey! Take care of Orihime for me, okay?" She exclaimed over her shoulder with a jaunty wave. "She really likes you too!"

The woman had blushed, leaning onto him as he nodded quietly. In truth, he had already planned to do so from the start.

"I've told you, didn't I?" He said suddenly, interrupting the Shinigami woman's silent plea.

"What?" She said, hopeful.

"Even if I didn't realise it then, I meant it." He continued. Renji looked to Rangiku for explanation but she was confused as well. He sighed and elaborated, "That I plan to stay with her for as long as possible."

Rangiku opened her mouth, then pursed them, seeming at a loss for words. A strange look overcame her features.

The Arrancar was thankful he had learnt to read emotions, though for times like these it was a curse. He could see pity in her eyes. He clenched his hands in his pockets, anger rising. Why couldn't they just leave him and Orihime alone? It was all his fault, he knew, but he didn't need the pity that was always directed towards him. Always aiming to guilt-trip him…he despised them for it.

"Yeah, but she's dead! It's been 2 years, dammit!" The red-headed one intruded. "If there's anything left of her, it'll just be fragments of the original."

Rangiku too encouraged: "She should be in Soul Society before something bad happens. You can still visit her! Please, Ulquiorra, tell us where she is!"

Ulquiorra kept his silence. He mused how this situation seemed to be identical to the one many years ago. That time, there was a group of them, all so youthful, who went to rescue her from his 'evil' clutches. The Winter War had been a time of great strife, with many casualties – from both sides. He could have been one of the fallen Espadas, cut down by the orange-head half breed, forever unsaved and unrealised, as his ashes drift in a world of monsters. It was only through the miracle workings of a woman that he was able to survive and live through it all. Though not physically human, he was a monster who gained a 'heart' and thus, (after a few negotiations) given the right to live in the Human World. This woman he would later come to love and cherish above all else.

To his annoyance, his reminiscence was abruptly interrupted. "OR we will resort to force," Renji growled.

"NO!" Rangiku intercepted, arms spanning as though to prevent any incoming attack. "No force! He's too strong for both of us. Plus, he's the only one who can tell us where she is."

"Then what do you suggest we do? We ca–"

Ulquiorra uncrossed his legs, interrupting their little argument. "It's late."

"Oh no, you're not sending us away this time!" Rangiku turned her angry glare back at him.

He stared back impassively, patience thinning. "You two need to leave," he said with more force.

Rangiku approached him slowly, asking: "What are you hiding, Ulquiorra?"

In the eyes of the Shinigami, the green-eyed Arrancar seemed to struggle internally for a moment. They noted down the event, to report to Central later.

Finally, Ulquiorra looked up. "Persistent," he commented out of nowhere. "Do you still wish to see her?"

"Of course!"

Renji furrowed his eyebrows. "What are you hiding, ex-Espada?" He questioned warily.

The Shinigami received no reply as Ulquiorra simply walked away. The Arrancar gave no indication for them to follow but the fact that he was not ushering them out the door gave them the clear to stay. Exchanging glances, they followed him to a door in a hidden section of the house. A faint negative feeling settled into their stomachs as they realised there wasn't any infinitesimal sense of reiatsu beyond the door. It was as though a void lived beyond.

Without hesitating, their host slid open the door, and they stepped in, revealing…

"Oh my god, Ulquiorra! What have you done?!" Rangiku gasped out. "To HER, no less!"

Ulquiorra had no doubt she would be horrified. As to the red-headed one, he was still speechless. Damn them, he felt so much guiltier now. He should have just force them out and continue to remain indifferent to their reactions.

"It was never supposed to be like this." He mumbled.

"Then how was it supposed to be like? Ulquiorra, you're a Hollow!" He winced at the jab. Never before had she ever called him out as an otherworldly creature. "YOU of all people should know what happens to those souls anchored! How could you do this? What have you done!" She shakily backed away from him.

Renji, however, was rooted to his spot. The scene before him came straight out of a horror movie. It was incomparable to what the clean-up crew had witnessed in the battlegrounds of Hueco Mundo. The room was trashed with paint on the walls cracking up under dried gore. Piles of dirtied clothing appeared to be strewn around the edges of the room, but in his state of shock, he did not observe too closely. He could see a strange type of glowing reiatsu-proofed chain shuddering, hanging from the ceiling. His eyes followed it to the form at the end of it. There was a Hollow hunched in the corner, it's heaving shoulders rattling the chains tied around its upper forearms.

Even with its back to them, this Hollow had a very noticeable bright orange mane. Its entire body was pale blue and the centre of its back held a very familiar six-pointer flower darker patch. "A monster. You're a monster." His numbed lips formed once he put two and two together.

It was just too…disgusting, to put a name to the creature.

Seemingly stung by the accusations, Ulquiorra lowered his head. "You can still help her," he said next. So quiet and hoarse was his voice, it made them realise how he might actually be suffering. How this animalistic act may have only been done so out of desperation for one last bit of companionship. Or love, since nobody was ever quite sure of his ultimate relationship with Orihime.

"How?" They asked.

Ulquiorra gazed towards them with a 'isn't it obvious' look. "It's dinnertime." He said hollowly. The door made an ominous sound as it closed behind the duo, alerting Hollow Orihime to their presence...

The creature that was once their beloved friend and nakama roared, showing rows of perfect, tiny, red teeth within its face of white bone mask. Her – no, its – claws dropped another bundle of clothing to the floor. Renji's vision finally registered, with tremendous horror, what those things were…as the bundle rolled its head forwards, revealing a half-chewed head.

Hollow Orihime shrieked painfully as it clawed at its hollow hole. Then, its silvery orbs swivelled to them.

"Oh, no..." Rangiku breathed shakily.

Renji, however, did not hesitate as he drew his sword. He shook his head at Rangiku who was backing up against their locked exit. "We have to do this. Orihime wouldn't have wanted to become like this... this monster."

Cold sweat rolling down her neck, Rangiku nodded slowly. She withdrew Haineko and positioned herself next to her partner. They were ready to advance.

That was, until the creature stopped.

And observed them with quiet familiarity.

"Orihime?" Rangiku reached out, murmuring softly, wishing that her best friend would regain her humanity so she wouldn't have to fight her.

The Hollow pulled back into a crouch and Renji immediately screamed for her to watch out.

A sudden golden explosion rendered her blind and unprepared for what happened next.

Once the reiatsu-proofed room was sealed – with the two-more-than-capable Shinigami lieutenants within – Ulquiorra knew the inevitable would occur. In fact, he'd known it for a little more than two years what would happen to him and her if he should act in a way that meant going against Soul Society ideals. He'd just been living a lie, pretending that everything was alright. Pretending that she was his 'wife' and that those trash he had captured were the sumptuous dinner he would prepare for her every night. It was a beautiful lie...while it lasted.

Lost in his musings, he drifted through the empty house until he reached the porch.

Bright sunlight was streaming through the sparse holes left behind by the pink petals of sakura blossoms. The sky was perfectly blue (not the annoying fluoro that was the Sexta's hair) and the clouds and birds that filled it was perfectly in synced with every bit that was happening below them. The Arrancar closed his eyes, surrendering to the moment. She would have called this a perfect Sunday.

Lost in his reverie, Ulquiorra began to hum. Nostalgia and longing filled his senses…

It was a picture-perfect Sunday as the woman leant on the porch railings, the silky hair that trailed down her back occasionally stirring as the wind blew by.

He had taken one look at her before settling down on an empty wicker chair. She had called him out for a 'talk', and judging from her serious tone, he knew it was going to be a long one. This can be further justified by the chilled drink on the table.

"Ulquiorra," she addressed.

Ever the stoic, he didn't deign her a reply as there were no real question asked. He merely stared at her hair, waiting with calm patience for the woman to speak.

"I've said this before…but I…" She stopped and turned to face him. "I want to thank you. For staying with me all these years. It's been so much less lonely and quiet with you around. And every single day has always been the best day.

"I could never ask for anything more." She, Orihime, said.

He could sense the 'but' coming.

"But…" She gave a soft, sad laugh. "The heart does what it wants, Ulquiorra."

His body was numb. Knowing that she wasn't talking about him. Knowing that for the past few years, she hadn't been welcoming him to bed with the same passion and love from her youthful naivete. Knowing that things could just never end rightly between two different species: Hollow and Human. Knowing that he knew all these years, yet still went to great lengths to stay by her side, to protect her and keep her company and a little more…

"I'm sorry I never told you this before…I just didn't want you to act rashly and kill him." The woman continued. "I've been seeing him for eight months now…and we think we're ready for this…H- he," Tears streamed down her face. And though Ulquiorra was by now well versed in human emotions, especially hers, he did not know if those were happy or sad tears. "He proposed and I said yes."

A silence settled in which Ulquiorra contented himself with staring at the sun-warmed floor panels. "When's the wedding?" He asked finally.

The woman's voice was soft with happiness and perhaps, relief. "We're still unsure. But we've been planning to do it on our fourty-fourth birthdays to save costs. It'll sure be a triple bonus, too."

"I see." He had replied, though he hadn't really. His physical eyes had just caught up with the fact that she was not wringing her hands in nervousness, but rather was caressing fondly a silver band of jewellery on her ring finger.

When Orihime Inoue looked up at him, he steeled himself and gave her a sign of his approval. As long as she was happy, then he would be satisfied. It didn't matter what else he thought.

"Oh," the woman had gasped and smiled. "Thank you so much, Ulquiorra!" She looked beyond relieved as she plopped back down to her seat.

He noted that she hadn't hurled herself at him, as she was prone to do in her youth. He supposed that old age could do that to a person; not that he'd know. But twenty-seven years had been kind to her. Where others have gotten wrinkles (Kurosaki) and white hair (Arisawa and the Quincy), she still retained her youthfulness and pure, innocent beauty. Many have said she was the epitome of immortality, but alas, that was not physically true.

The woman closed her eyes and started humming. He was familiar with the song; she had said her brother enjoyed it, when he was alive.

It was a song of companionship found. The brother had found the sister, and the sister had found him, the lonely monster. But now, she sings of a new type of companionship; one who can live and die with her. So, what of the lonely monster by her side?

As long as she was happy, then he supposed it didn't matter what else he thought…or felt.

His keen ears picked up the sound of wailing and screeching. Was it selfish of him to keep her all for himself? Even if it was just two years?

"Growl, Haineko!"

"Howl, Zabimaru!"

His eyes remained close all the while. Even as her pained cries subsided and his heart no longer felt her soul. Even as he felt the tremors of a heavy door bursting open…

"Forgive me, Hime." He whispered.

He dreamt – that for a second – her lithe fingers had danced over the skin of his cold, tear-marked cheek.

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A/N: So that's it for this month and the next. I will continue to post chapters for Reach for the Heart when I have finished the term exams. Please review, all criticisms accepted. Well, WB YEATS, here I go...