Metamorphosis

"So this is the end."

A dim moonlight shone in from the barred window in the corner, providing the only light in Las Noches. A cold current of air snuck through the window, swept downward and struck violently at her skin, attempting vainly to induce shivers in the cell's lone prisoner—but she did not move or acknowledge it at all. The four-walled room was meant to be a sort of chamber, a place where she could be confined and used for Aizen's will, but the girl had lost all interest in caring. She had lost all interest in praying, in wishing, in hoping, and in, all in all, giving a damn. She was a prisoner, and had long ago accepted it.

In the far corner of the cell sat a huddled Orihime Inoue, an insignificant speck in an enormous, empty chamber. The lengthy white jacket that she had been forced to wear was still attached to her body, the cape of which lay stretched out behind her; her arms were wrapped tightly around her legs, and her head remained declined as she stared expressionlessly at the floor.

"This…is the end," Orihime repeated in weak half-whisper. She took a deep breath. "Tsubaki."

A miniature man with a veil covering his mouth materialized beside her, looking around the cell vigorously. "So, whose ass am I kicking this time? They better be ready for some serious—" He stopped, realizing there was no enemy to attack. Sighing irritably and rolling his eyes, he muttered, "Oh sure, call me when you aren't in danger, to accompany you in this damn jail."

"No…" Orihime shook her head, her eyes beginning to well with tears. She smiled miserably. "No, that's not it… I just…I need to use your Koten Zanshun attack…"

Tsubaki folded his arms. "…are you blind? There's no enemy here. What's wrong with you, woman, there's no one here but me and you! Why would you need to use that attack?!"

A tear slid down her cheek and dropped from her chin.

"And what the hell are you crying about?" the man-fairy snapped, albeit less angrily than before. "There's certainly no need for—"

"No, y- you don't understand, Tsubaki." Orihime swallowed. "I need to use the attack—on myself."

Tsubaki's eyes lit up with sudden dismay. "Wh- What …?"

I'm sorry… Kurosaki-kun. The young woman's face contorted horribly, drenched with both mucus and insurmountable streams of tears. I won't let you sacrifice yourself… for me.

Good bye, Ishida-kun… Kuchiki-san…

She wanted to see them a last time, to see their smiling faces, the glistening sparkles in their eyes as they laughed and spent one last heartfelt moment with each other. But it was not possible. It was as Ulquiorra had said: Only fools come into Hueco Mundo with their powers untested. She wanted to believe that they would be all right, but knew somewhere in her soul that they couldn't possibly succeed.

The mission was ridiculous anyway: saving her?

The idea was almost comedy. What man would want to save…a person like me? And it was the truth; Ichigo would be degrading himself if he bent so low to pull up such a disgusting girl.

She smiled a miserable smile that looked more like a grimace than anything else, digging her face into her hands. The young woman still had not moved from her original position in the cell; her huddling in the corner perfectly symbolized the solitude and isolation she lived through.

She no longer had a family. And her true friends, her true nakama, were all snatched violently away from her when she was dragged to Hueco Mundo. Being cuddled against the wall for days on end had given her time to reflect thoroughly on her life—but in the end, there was nothing worth reflecting on. There was no God watching over her, and there was no devil trying to destroy her.

There was just Orihime.

Cold. Pathetic. And alone.

'Inoue…' Ichigo summoned enough strength to lift his head from the deep pool of blood beneath it and look up at the girl. 'Why would you…let this happen? I thought you were my nakama—'

The shinigami abruptly cut himself off, coughing violently as a dark red liquid arose from his innards and shot out of mouth, adding to the blood puddle beneath him. His eyes glazed over, and the pool of blood beneath him continually increased in size.

Orihime shook her head vigorously, vainly attempting to rid herself of the memory of last night's dream. She removed her hands from her face and became aware of a frightened Tsubaki slowly backing away from her. "What… are you trying to say?" he repeated, shaking fearfully. "You don't mean that, do you?"

I apologize… Kurosaki-kun.

But the only way to stop you from proceeding any further is…

"Death." Orihime brushed her left hand across her cheek, smearing the tears across her face, and shot her right hand forward to snatch the fairy before her. "You know…that it's the only solution, Tsubaki... Please…don't make me force you to use the attack—"

"No."

"Tsu—"

"NO!"

There was a pause. "Then—I'm…so sorry." One last tear dropped from her chin onto the floor—"K- Koten… Zanshun!"—before she held Tsubaki up to her neck and cried:

"I…rejec—"

"Idiot." A hand struck her across the face. "Suicide solves even less than doing nothing. It is both foolish and impossible for you to kill yourself with your own attack. You'll only injure and torture yourself; due to hesitation, you'll never be able to fully finish off the job." It was a quiet yet somewhat distinct voice. "Here," it added, as a tray of various foods was dropped onto her lap.

Orihime rubbed the red spot on her cheek. That hand… The hand that had struck her was familiar—skinny, pale, lengthy, long-nailed…

"U- Ulquiorra-san…"

He looked at her with his usual expressionless face—the only face she had seen for days, other than Tsubaki's. "Surprisingly… You look nice in that outfit." He stopped to watch as she glanced down at the slop on her tray and feebly pushed it aside. "But Aizen-sama would like you to eat the food he had prepared."

She shook her head weakly. "N- No thank you… I'm not hungry."

The Arrancar grimaced, growing impatient. "Are you trying to starve yourself? As another way to force suicide upon yourself? This is the third day in a row you've denied your meals."

"I…"

"Inoue Orihime… if you don't eat," he continued, "all of your beauty will go to waste." He took a step closer to her, peering down at her face with an unfathomable look. "So will I have to force the food down your throat?"

"N- No…!" Orihime felt her skin prickling and her muscles tensing up as he neared her. Her heart was feeling more like a hammer, pummelling against her breast with each beat.

But Ichigo was not here, so it couldn't have been that...

Because that feeling was not supposed to happen. And, in God's name, why was Ulquiorra's hand reaching for her—

"I reject!"

Tsubaki was flung forcefully into the air, moving straight toward Ulquiorra's face; the Arrancar hastily jerked his head to the side, resulting in Tsubaki barely scraping his cheek. He lifted his hand to feel the slight nick, grabbed the fairy in mid-flight, and violently hurled him straight back at his owner, whose eyes widened dramatically when it sliced off the bottom portion of her hair on the right side.

"Don't worry about it, Orihime. But, you have to promise me that you'll never cut it off again… all right?"

She looked up at the seriousness in her friend's eyes. "Tatsuki-chan… I promise. It'll always stay long—just like our friendship. I… won't forget."

"Good." Tatsuki beamed. "And if anyone else bullies you or knocks you around, they'll have to answer to me! And, let's admit it: They'd have to be pretty dang strong to take on a karate master, ne?"

She giggled. "If you say so…"

Orihime watched in ultimate dismay as numerous strands of hair were sliced off from her head and drifted tauntingly to the floor. It was the first time in ten years that her hair, the ultimate symbolism of her longlasting friendship with Tatsuki, had been sliced off by someone else. It reminded her of how it felt to have that little girl, that evil little bully, picking on her and ripping out her hair as a child. Seeing those strands drift to the floor ever so slowly—made her want to destroy him.

"Just who the fuck do you think you are?"

And suddenly, the beating in her heart was no more. In fact, there was no longer any feeling in her heart. In place of it was an immense, gaping hole.

A black beam of spirit energy shot from her mouth, aiming straight at Ulquiorra. There was a boom, and flash—and—

The smoke and debris slowly began to clear and exit through the barred window on the opposite side of the room. Orihime cleared her eyes and watched as Ulquiorra's figure came gradually into view. He was sitting calmly in the opposite corner of the cell with his legs crossed. Surrounding him was a sort of yellow, forcefield-like shield that was only released once the majority of the debris in the room had cleared.

The hole in her heart was gone, as if it had never happened.

Clap. Clap. Clap. The man stood from the floor and walked toward her. "A very good display of your powers, human."

"Ul…quiorra-san... What just…?"

"It was a relatively potent Hollow-based attack—one that only Menos Grandes use. Which means, along with the language that you used toward me just before releasing the attack," he added, "that you are finally metamorphosing."

Metamorphosing? So, being confined in Hueco Mundo really was releasing her Hollow state… She had noticed that the type of reiatsu-user that she most resembled was that of a Hollow—but this was something completely different.

It was all the more reason for her to destroy herself.

Hollows… They're Ichigo's enemy… Which means, if I'm a Hollow…Ichigo will also be my enemy… She swallowed. She couldn't let that happen.

Ulquiorra left the tray of food on in the cell. He turned on his heel and began to leave.

Orihime's head jerked upward. "Wait!" He stopped at the exit, but did not turn around. "Ulquiorra-san, I'm begging you… You have to…kill—me—now." She blinked back all the tears that she could, swallowing hard. "Now," she repeated, "before I become"

"Become what?" He pivoted his head. "One of us?" There was no anger in his voice, but instead a trace of amusement. "Is that so bad, woman?"

"But- " She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again. After a moment, the young woman peered down at the spot where the hole had been in her chest, and murmured, "You know… Maybe it's not."

The man smiled for the first time she had ever seen. Or at least, the expression on his face was not quite as melancholy as it usually was. "I would like to show you something."

"Wait! You mean we're leaving this cell?" Before he could answer she added, "I'll be out in a second!"

He nodded and solemnly swiveled around, heading toward the exit. "I'll wait outside."

She waited for Ulquiorra to fully exit the cell before she returned her gaze to the injured fairy on the floor. "Sora, Tatsuki-chan… Please forgive me." She took out her hairpin, crushed it, and flung it out the barred window. She then carelessly grabbed the injured Tsubaki by the head, uttered the words "I reject," and used the attack to chop off the rest of her hair. "But it's time for a change."

Without bothering to heal Tsubaki, she flicked him across the room, produced a smirk with the slightest bit of malevolence, and called out "Coming!" as she ran out of the cell, her white Arrancar cape billowing behind her.