I, EspadaFour, do not own Bleach nor the characters I've used. They belong to their respective owners. I've just used to them to play in the vast sandbox world of fanfiction. Please feel free to favorite, comment or leave a review, as they will help me to tailor my stories in the future. Thank you for reading and please, enjoy.
I fell into the Bleach fandom late. Yes, I know Ulquihime is not canon. Yes, I know his fate.
In the drabble titled Viridian, the colors I chose for this were OPI Jade is the New Black and Don't Mess With OPI. I have both of these colors.
Five Colors In A Lifetime
Black.
Orihime carefully applied the black polish to her nails. She started with her pinky nail, slowly working her way to her thumb. She frowned a bit as she remembers that he had black nails. She didn't know if it was a natural occurrence or he had painted them.
His hair was also black. He had black fur. Those lines running down his face were black. His blood wasn't black though. When that monster cut him, it had run red. Why had his hollow hole bled black though?
She gently sets her hands on the table in front of her, so that the polish could dry. She needed to add a second coat of lacquer. It wasn't dark enough for her.
"They'll notice tomorrow," she murmurs. Sudden panic rises in her throat and she contemplates taking the dark polish off. Her breaths come in strained gasps. She had seen a therapist about these sudden attacks that would grip her. She needed to breathe.
How could she when she felt like she was drowning in a sea of darkness?
Another thought crosses her mind, 'Why do you care?'
It took several long moments before she is able to calm down. Why did she care what they thought? She gave up caring about what other people thought about her long ago. She gave up caring when he reached out to her.
Instead of taking the polish off, she applied a second coat of nail polish. The opaqueness satisfied her. She then decides to paint her toenails with the same color.
White.
EdelWeiß.
Orihime stared at those white little flowers that grew at a certain altitude in European countries. Her mouth turned down into a frown. She had been walking around Karakura and happened to pass by a florist. They had them in a bucket in the front window. They caught her eye. She bought them.
Now, she was at home and that bouquet sat on her small table. Her mouth is still in a frown. She remembers his compliment. That silky, monotone, deep voice that betrayed no emotion.
"That outfit unexpectedly suits you."
It was kept in the back of her closet, out of sight. Once she returned home, she made her fairies reject the damage that Loly had done to it. The garment hung bright and pristine. The white silk had a shimmering iridescence, while the black trim and sash drank in the darkness.
Involuntarily, Orihime gritted her teeth. His mask fragment had been too white. His hair had been too dark. His skin too pale. He looked handsome in the Arrancar uniform but she knew he was deadly.
She grabbed the flowers, stood and didn't even bother to put on shoes before she dashed outside to throw the bouquet in the trash can.
The most beautiful creatures were often the deadliest.
Viridian.
She's shopping again. This time for more nail polish. She wants to capture the color of his eyes and the Estimga that graced his face. Sadly she can't find any color like it.
How did you describe a fathomless color?
It was deeper than a spring green but not dark enough to be a phthalo green. Emerald. Malachite. Verdant. She had bought a color dictionary and found the exact color of his eyes.
Viridian. Blue-green; composed more of green than blue. His specific color?
Verde Verones.
Orihime finally resorted to looking online to find the perfect color. She decided on two polishes from the same brand, very close in color.
No one has said anything yet, but they whisper and stare.
Copper.
She sat on a bench, overlooking the river and the city. The sun is about to set, the sky is ablaze with the color of fire. The dark purple clouds are dotted among a crimson and tangerine backdrop. Even the surface of the water is on fire.
Orihime wasn't looking at anything at all in particular. She just liked the way the sunlight made her hair come to life. The light made it shine like new pennies that the Americans used. Copper.
It's getting dark and she's pulling on a strand of hair. She's been known to do that since Aizen's defeat. It was a nervous but comforting habit. The sunlight was fading, darkness was looming. Her hair became dull as did the shine in her eyes.
Sunset meant it would be time to sleep. Sleep meant dreams and nightmares. The dreams she could handle, they just made her ache for him. The nightmares cemented the reality he was dead.
Gray.
Rain tapped on the window. It was cold and the weather so dreary. Winter was approaching, the wind and precipitation were a precursor to snow and temperature drops.
She sighed as she gazed out of the window of her apartment. The bleakness of her environment is depressing. She can feel a tidal wave of sadness on the horizon. It's going to hit her. Tears well in her eyes; she begins to cry. She's crying for herself and for him. She can't say or think of his name or else it gets worse.
She can picture him in her mind but it's getting fuzzy. Some of his features are fading. How long had it been?
She's afraid of letting him go.
Orihime has the frantic thought to ask the exiled-Soul-Reaper-now-turned-shop-owner if he can reopen the Garganta. She wants-No! She needs to go back to that world with the endless night. She wants to go to Los Noches. She wants to go back to that room where she could survive on her own. She's too weak here.
She never did like when it rained. The feeling of being alone was amplified and it didn't matter if she was surrounded by her friends. She was alone.
Ulquiorra.
It's sudden. The name rises into her memories and she can't stop it. It's there. How can she turn it away? There's is nothing in her power to that could suppress the power that name holds.
She hides her gray eyes and sobs uncontrollably until exhaustion overtakes her. She just lays there in front of the window, slowly blinking. She's fighting sleep. She just wants to feel nothing, like he did.