Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach!

Summary: "Ulquiorra!" She shouts in her waking moments, realizing that it was only a dream and she had fallen asleep in the middle of class. She flushes, trying to ignore the stares that penetrate her, especially Kurosaki-kun's. UlquiHime, hints of IchiHime, oneshot

This is just a little idea that I came up with. I hope everyone enjoys this! It's not terribly long, just a little oneshot focusing on Orihime's life after the whole Ulquiorra deal. Because I like to think he left a huge mark on her (take that any way you like, lol.) Anyway, please enjoy!


Deluded Into Sympathy


She runs.

Her feet are too sluggish, too slow to keep up with the figure that is simply standing there, gazing at her with those emotionless emerald eyes, his mouth set in a stern line. There is something in those eyes, though, she can see it, even from this distance.

It is almost as if she is running through water, or something even more viscous. Every time she seems to propel herself toward him, he simply floats backward to equal the distance she conquered.

She's getting nowhere, and she knows this.

Her mouth opens and her voice tries to cry out, to penetrate the sickening silence between them. She wants him to speak to her, to say anything, even if it is just a vague, demeaning "woman" that he utters from his lips.

She wants him to be real.

The world around is a blur, full of flurries of white shapes, seamless and wavering around her. Everything is fuzzy - so much so that it makes her want to scream out in aggravation. She needs to see his face, unmarred by the damned edges of her dream. She needs to see it in all its glory, emotionless as she knows it will be.

The ferocity of the emotion in her chest scares her.

Again, she opens her mouth to cry out his name, to tell him to wait. "Stop!" She wants to scream, but somehow, her throat just won't allow her to make the sound.

Her eyes focus on him, and soon, he moves. Not toward her, however. The man is still standing still, a breeze blowing his onyx hair around his bone white features, but he lifts a hand and reaches out to her.

A familiar, heart-stopping gesture.

Instinctively, her hand raises to try to meet his, even though they are so far apart. Her legs are pumping harder underneath her, trying desperately to reach him.

He won't stay in one place.

He won't let her near him!

Her eyes make out the strange blurring that starts at his feet and moves its way up. Powder takes place of his limbs.

He's turning to ash right in front of her eyes.

Only his mid-section remains, and even that is dissipating faster than her eyes can process it. It is like her worst nightmare come to life. She's losing him for the second time, and it is something that she can't bear.

She screams, a frightened, terrified sound that seems to get caught up in the wind that scatters the fragments of his being.

It seems she's finally reached him, but as soon as her hand reaches his fingers, outstretched and waiting, they disappear from her reach.

The ash touches her fingers, dusty and the very feel of them seems to set her skin on fire.

She looks up, meets his emerald gaze. Tears are streaming from her large, innocent eyes, and she thrashes her other hand out, as if to grasp what she can't have. Desperation clouds her face, and she lets out a primal scream as he disappears from her for good.

"Ulquiorra!"

Gray eyes snap open, her hand reaches out in front of her, as if she was grasping the very man she sought. Her fingers tremble, and her eyes feel wet, moist with unshed tears. Her mouth is wide open in shock, as well as in the aftermath of her desperate crooning of his name.

Instead of seeing his forest green gaze, she sees the drab décor of her classroom.

"Inoue, would you like to share something with the class?" The teacher's voice cuts through the silence.

Orihime can hear the stifled giggles, the whispered nothings. She knows people gossip, and she doesn't care. She can't find it in her to care about that, when there are things that she is going through that rival whatever petty thing they have happening in their lives.

None of her non-spiritual classmates had ever seen anyone turn to ash right in front of their eyes.

Especially someone they cared about.

Especially when she thought she could have done something to help.

"N-No, sensei." Orihime voices, and the timbre of it sounds shaky and sad.

"As I was saying," the teacher chides, moving closer to the blackboard.

Orihime never finds out what the teacher was saying - she tunes everything out.

She reaches up and wipes a little line of drool from the corner of her mouth. Curse her babyish habit. Her brother might have thought it was cute at one point or another, but now she just finds it brings her back to other, simpler times.

Times when she wasn't seeing a pair of emotionless, emerald eyes every time she closed her own.

She tries not to think of the dream. Tries not to think of anything, really. The healer feels Ichigo's stare on her back. Feels Chad and Ishida staring at her with pity. She knows these things, and can't help but feel a blush creep its way onto her cheeks.

She lets her mind wander - she's good at that kind of thing. She tries to think of random things, like the next crazy recipe, or her robotic future persona.

But no matter how hard she tries, she can't keep his eyes from popping into her subconscious.

They are always there, sometimes pleading, sometimes flat, but each time, they seem to be just a flawed recreation of something that her brain could never replicate properly.

The teacher drones on, and Orihime fades away from the scenario. She fades from the spacious classroom into her white, white cell and into the white, white arms of the Espada she had come to care for.

She clenches her eyes shut, feeling ashamed of herself.

The bell rings, and the teacher dismisses them.

She rises, gathers her books against her chest, and starts for the door.

A kind, rough hand perches on her shoulder awkwardly, the largeness of it taking up the expanse of it. Heat seeps in from his touch, and immediately she knows who it is.

She spins around, closes her eyes brightly, and plasters that ever-present, beaming smile onto her face. "Yes, Kurosaki-kun?"

He sees right through her, and she knows this. His face is nothing but stern concern for her sudden outburst. "Inoue, are you alright?"

She opens her eyes and looks at him with an innocent stare. She blinks and then a small smile forms on her lips, "Yes, of course!" She smiles, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Inoue," he hisses her name, his ferocity showing his care.

Her eyes widen in shock for a moment before she smiles gently at him. Orihime knows that he is only like this because he cares, and strangely…she can't find it to be enough at the moment.

Because, as she looks into his brown eyes, she can only picture green, green, green.

But she smiles. She smiles to ease his mind, though it might not work on him. For someone that is such a guy, he is very perceptive. "I really am fine, Kurosaki-kun," she even lets a slight laugh loose. The sound is airy, yet it sinks heavily between the two. "I just had a…dream, is all."

Nightmare. Nightmare. Awful, awful nightmare.

His eyebrows crease slightly, and his scowl turns into a sympathetic smile - or his equivalent of it. "I'm here if you need me."

Her traitorous heart skips a beat at his words, but still…it wasn't the same.

As she walks to her next class, her head in a heavy mass of dark clouds, she can't help but think that nothing will be the same ever again.


End.

Well, I've had this idea for a long time, and I'm glad that I finally got done with it! I would love to hear everyone's opinions and everything, because I always love to hear if people like my fics or not. Who doesn't? Haha. Anyway, thanks for reading. This tired college girl appreciates it!