Felt like writing an angsty Ishihime one-shot. Heads up: this is a kind-of (but not really) AU that takes place in Hueco Mundo. Because I really wish Orihime would notice Uryu already and stop angsting over Ichigo.
Disclaimer: Bleach isn't mine - if it was, Ishihime would have been canon from the start. :)
~ Aliento ~
She loves Ichigo best when she is helpless. That feeling of falling, whoosh, like taking a dive off the edge of the tallest building she can find, and then suddenly she's in someone's arms and he is lifting her up, up, until she is so close to the warmth of the sun and his heart that she can feel her skin humming with life...
But being saved doesn't feel like this. Being helpless is Kurosaki-kun, help me and gritty sand ingrained into the lines of her hands, and blood spraying the side of her face, sticky, scalding, and everything is too chaotic and futile and she can't do anything.
Sometimes Orihime hates being in love with Ichigo more than anything else in the world.
OOO
"Your friends are here to save you," Ulquiorra says coolly. "They will die."
Orihime squeezes her eyes shut and tucks her hands under her legs so she will not be tempted to stand up and slap the hurtful words from his cold lips. Breathe, she reminds herself, and takes deep, soothing breaths. Breathe. Don't get worked up. That's exactly what he wants.
"Woman. Do not ignore me. Respond."
Breathe. Orihime closes her eyes and envisions days of happiness, halcyon days, when her greatest care in the world was transforming the insults aimed her way into something more constructive. When she cared about silly things like experimenting with food, sleeping, and paying respect to the dead instead of fighting not to leap to her feet and scream at them till their ears bleed.
Sometimes, she thinks Hueco Mundo's endless sands will leave her forever scarred, as if the grains of tiny sands have leaked into her pores and will remain there for all eternity. If someone is to peer into her grave, long after she is decomposed, they will find only a tiny, lonely pile of ivory sand.
Breathe.
"Their expedition is pointless," Ulquiorra continues. "And one by one, they will perish. One by one they will fall."
Breathe. Orihime pictures Tatsuki when she's angry, her soft-colored face flushing with vibrant color, her dark eyes glowing with brilliant fire. Sora with his kind smile, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Ichigo and his bright shock of orange hair, scowling at her, but not quite seeing what is in front of him, as if he's very, very far away and she is not enough to bring him back.
Even Uryu, who used to treat her with the same cold wariness he treated everyone with before he opened up to her a little. Orihime finds herself drawn to the memory of his deep blue eyes, like the absolute bottom of her blackest sorrows, or like the silky color of the darkening sky, or the soul of a young person who has seen and felt entirely too much for such a short life. She can't escape from the memory of his eyes, of his gaze and that shy flush that paints his cheeks whenever she says something embarrassing. His memory makes her feel safe and warm, not at all like the shame she feels every time she thinks of Ichigo and how she fails him in every way possible.
Strange, that she would turn to the memory of Uryu and burrow into it like a soft, warm blanket to shield her from the cold. She can't understand. But in this world of endless, empty nights and wandering demons, she doesn't need to.
Ulquiorra studies her for a long time, his emerald eyes narrowing just the slightest.
"You are a silly woman," he murmurs quietly, but there's something in his voice that doesn't quite belong. Something that tells her he knows what - who - she is thinking of and how the memory of Uryu inexplicably makes her breathe easier.
"And he will die."
Orihime's head snaps up, her eyes going wide. Ulquiorra turns away from her a little, looking at her over his shoulder with one hand on the door. His eyes gleam with something dark - jealousy, frustration, hatred - but she must be imagining it, because those are human emotions, and there is no way this creature in front of her understands what that is anymore.
"Because of you," Ulquiorra says coldly. "You will try to stop it. But you are too weak. You will fail. And he will die because you were too late."
He is gone before she can yell at him to leave her alone, before she can accuse him of lying through his teeth, even though he's not.
Breathe, she commands herself, but the breath chokes in her throat and dies, a withering thing.
OOO
In Hueco Mundo, behind walls of white and stone, Orihime dreams. She dreams of days gone by, of a life she once lived, a life that ended the instant Ulquiorra held out his hand and beckoned her to the world of the lost. Dreams of Tatsuki and Sora and all her friends, new and old, people she'd never met before but wasn't afraid to love. Happy dreams. Nostalgia.
Then Aizen comes in. Torments her. Promises in his silent cruel way that even if she returns to her friends, she will be forever marked, forever tainted. His corrupting touch fills her dreams and she sees her nakama die one by one. Ichigo. Tatsuki. Uryu. Chad. Rukia.
She begins to realize something Aizen couldn't possibly have intended for her to notice. No, impossible.
Because her heart doesn't hurt the most when she sees Ichigo cut to pieces or Tatsuki crushed into a bloody sticky ball. When Uryu crumples at her feet in the dream, bleeding, one of his pale hands clutching at her ankle as he begs her to save him, her world teeters on the edge. She never wants to die more than when he is in pain.
And she can't understand. Can't understand at all.
She loves Ichigo.
...Doesn't she?
OOO
"Ishida-kun, I am almost sure this is a dream."
Uryu blinks at her and nods slowly. Even bundled up against the streets covered in slick snow and ice, he blends in, his pale skin white as the soft snow beneath her feet. "Of course it is, Inoue-san," he says. "We're in Hueco Mundo right now."
"Is this your dream, or mine?" Orihime asks. The streets are so empty, lifeless except for them, but they look familiar. They're back in Karakura, she realizes with a jolt. Back where she would give anything to be.
"Does it matter?" Uryu fixes her with a solemn stare. "Inoue-san, I'm not quite sure how I got to be here, and I'm almost entirely sure that this is a trick of Aizen's, but, if it's real..."
"I'm all right," Orihime answers him before he can start the question. "Just a little lonely."
The Quincy nods solemnly, as if he understands exactly what she means, though he can't possibly. "We're coming for you," he says firmly. "We are going to get you out of here."
"I don't think you can," Orihime whispers, just as a harsh wind swoops in and snatches away the words before they can reach Uryu. Yet, somehow, he hears her. Whether by the desolation in her eyes or the tremble in her hands, he sees and understands.
"We will," he promises, and there is unshakeable faith in his words. He truly, truly believes this. He believes she can be saved.
But Orihime doesn't want to be saved. She wants to save herself, to pick herself up, wipe the blood and sand from her cheeks, and walk out with her head held high.
"Inoue-san," Uryu calls quietly, and there is something fierce and protective in his voice, like a bloomed version of the love she knows grows within her like a young bud, and suddenly, she understands. He loves her. He has always loved her.
"This is a dream," she murmurs.
"Then wake up." Uryu meets her eyes, and the relief, the sheer warmth she feels from seeing those beautiful eyes again rushes through her like a wild fire, pulsing through her withered veins, until she feels like her heart has turned into the sun and it fills her body with liquid light. "Wake up and be strong, Inoue-san. I'm coming for you. Don't worry. I'm coming."
OOO
No!
He said he was coming. He said he'd be there to bring her back.
He's dying. I can feel him dying.
Every flicker of Uryu's failing reiatsu signature is like a pike driving into her heart, maddeningly slow, agonizing. Inside her white-walled prison cell, Orihime buckles over, clutching at her heart as her lungs constrict.
Breathe!
Ishida-kun! God, someone help him! Someone help!
Breathe-!
Orihime staggers to her feet and somehow makes it to the door. She slams on the unforgiving stone until she flays away the skin on her palms, leaving bloody streaks on the white door with every strike of her hand.
"Ishida-kun!"
Breathe.
"Ishida-kun!"
I can't breathe.
"Someone open up! Someone, please! Please!"
This can't be happening.
Orihime falls to her knees, the world crashing down at her, clutches at her head and screams, screams, screams.
"Somebody help me!"
And the door slides open.
But instead of Ulquiorra or Ichigo or Uryu, there is Aizen.
OOO
"Your Quincy friend is dying."
Aizen crouches in front of her and takes her chin in his hand, tilting her face left and right, following the tear tracks streaking down her face. Something cruel glimmers in his black eyes.
"Do you want to save him?"
Orihime swallows. Her tongue is a heavy, clumsy thing in her mouth, even when she speaks. "Yes."
Aizen smiles. "I am leaving. But I am going to give you a chance. Because I am a merciful god."
Orihime trembles. Run.
"I will give you a chance to save him. Yet even if you should find him, he will already be broken. You will be too late, my precious princess, my beautiful, broken trophy. And it will break you."
No. I will not!
She runs. Gets to her feet and runs faster than she ever believed possible, so fast that the ground is a blur beneath her feet and her lungs squeeze, shrivel, and there's not enough air getting to them and it feels like she is about to split wide open, but she doesn't look back to see Aizen laugh at her. She looks forward. Because she believes what no one else does, that she is strong. Strong enough to save Uryu.
I will save him. Run!
Her lungs clench and pulse. Her head is spinning.
Breathe.
No time to breathe. Run, run, as fast as you can, you can't beat death...
Breathe.
And suddenly there he is, a crumpled pile of white and red at her slipping, stumbling feet. Orihime drops to the floor and her weight lands on her spread palms, shockwaves and pain screaming up and down her bones, but she couldn't care less. Because she will not be helpless anymore. She will not be the damsel in distress, the one who needs saving.
I will save you.
"In...Inoue-san?" He lifts his head with its beautiful black hair and looks at her with those eyes she loves, eyes she thinks she could just fall into for hours and hours. And something stirs in her breast, breaking free, and she laughs at how he says her name because she knows he loves her. She knows what gave him the strength to drag himself from a doomed fight, and stumble down the corridors until he reached her.
"I'm here," she whispers, and gathers him in her arms.
Breathe.
"I'm here." Lungs expand and whoosh and she can breathe again with this bleeding boy in her arms. "You're going to be okay."
Uryu's lips twist into a puzzled frown - Inoue-san, why are you crying? - and she laughs at this, too, and leans down and kisses the uncertainty from his firm mouth.
Breathe.
Orihime pulls back. Uryu stares up at her, blinking in confusion, his face stunned.
And then he smiles.
"I know," he says quietly. She isn't sure whether he means that he knows he'll be all right, that she loves him, or if he knows just how hard she tried to be the savior instead of the saved.
And she is. With Uryu, she is.
Breathe.
.Fin.
A/N: Review - thoughts, constructive criticisms, praise, I love it all. :)