Me: Sorry to any of you peoples who might happen to read my other stories and were hoping for an update, but when inspiration speaks, you freaking LISTEN.

Ulquiorra: She does not own Bleach, but if she did, Ichigo Kurosaki would be dead-

Me: *holds up skull* I think this one is his...

Ulquiorra: And I would have lived and ended up with Orihime.

Me: that pretty much covers it, so... Here ya go!

Orihime hadn't realized. She hadn't figured it out, not until now. She had grown attached to her jailor, she had that condition- what was it called? Stockholm syndrome? Yes, that was it.

She knew she was attached to him, to Ulquiorra. He was the only thing she had to cling to, the closest thing to a friend in a dismal world.

But it had grown to more than that, more than just a twisted version of friendship. Orihime had actually begun to like the Espada, seeing him as an actual friend instead of the person she had clung to for stability.

He was... different. Emotionless, but that was okay. Orihime promised herself she'd teach him what a heart was.

And she had.

"Are you scared of me, woman?" Ulquiorra asked, holding his hand out to her. His slender fingers hung in the air, his emerald orbs begging forgiveness. Orihime stared at him, tears choking her throat.

He had become her friend, and after that? After that her feelings for him at continue to grow, past companionship, past liking him, past the strange phase where she couldn't understand that jumble in her brain and her heart. It had continued to grow into something she had never felt before. Something she wanted to experience for the rest of her life.

Love.

She, Orhime Inoue, was in love with the enemy. Ulquiorra Schiffer. This had to be the worst case of Stockholm syndrome in history.

Orihime wondered if he loved her back, he had always said he felt nothing. He had no emotions, he had told her. And at first, she had believed him.

But now, looking into his brilliant green eyes, she realized it wasn't true. Ulquiorra wanted to be forgiven by her, he wanted her to tell him it was okay. That she would be there. There was regret and sadness in his eyes. A desperation, almost.

He wanted her to tell him the truth.

"No... I'm not afraid of you." Orihime said, her voice quiet and tear-filled. Please don't leave me. Please. I'm not ready yet, I love you Ulquiorra.

Slowly, she reached her hand out, grasping for his. She needed this, and so did he. This closure, this ending. As though holding his hand might help.

Hold my hand. Please, just hold my hand till the very end. Because I want this, and if I can't touch you, even one more time, I may die.

But fate wouldn't even allow them that much. As Orihime reached for him, her hand closed around nothing but ash.

Please, I never got the chance to tell him, he needs to know. There wasn't even time...

With a sob, she whispered so quietly, no one but Ulquiorra could hear. These words were for his ears only, and no others. She wanted to hold him, to touch him, to know that he would be there for her. But she couldn't even do that, all she could do was this.

"I love you." She whispered, her words seem to coil in the air like mist, just for the two of them. And Ulquiorra heard.

Even at the end, there was no closure. Nothing for the two. His eyes were filled with that horrible sadness. But they were no longer lifeless, because at the very end, he had realized.

I know what a heart is. It's right here, in my hand. Thank you, woman.

Looking at her beautiful face, her orange hair whipping around in a mad halo as the wind lashed at them violently, the corners of his lips turned up almost unnoticeabley. But she saw, because she always saw.

I love you, Orihime Inoue.

And she knew, because she saw it in his eyes, before they too vanished into the air.

Orihime felt the tears stinging her eyes, blurring her vision as the last remnants of her one love blew away; ashes scattered in the wind. She held her fist tightly, holding the bit of ash she had caught as her hand had reached for him.

It was all she had left.

She stood there, staring at the spot where he had stood just moments before, and a dull, empty feeling slowly filled her chest, the only thing that seemed to fill that emptiness was a horrible aching. She couldn't hear anything but a horrible noise, like the shattering of a thousand mirrors.

It was her heart breaking.

Slowly, the tears spilled over, pouring down her porcelain face in silver ribbons. Looking at the sky, she sobbed, clutching her hand- clenched in a fist- to her chest. It held all that was left of her love. Of her Ulquiorra.

And she wasn't about to loose that.

Me: Do you hate me? Huh, do you? Well don't, just wait for the next chapter.

Ulquiorra: She wants you to reveiw.

Me: Doesn't it irk you that they killed off all of the Espadas except for Grimmjow? Speaking of which, I should bring him into this story.

Ulquiorra: Once more, just reveiw.

Me: please?