P . A . T . H . W . A . Y

IV

An Oasis

As the two of them wandered along the columned pathways within Las Noches, Orihime began to fall behind again, deep in thought. Questions spun in and out of her head before she had the chance to examine them one by one.

What was it that Aizen was going to have her do? What were his plans? Where were her friends right now? Had Ichigo woken up yet? Did he have any idea where she was? Did he see her note?

Goodbye, halcyon days.

It hadn't been very descriptive, but Ulquiorra had warned her against outright telling anyone where she was. A knot of guilt formed in her chest, though she knew it was foolish to feel that way. He had allowed her the visit, trusting that she would not try to escape. And she had tried, in roundabout ways, to betray her whereabouts to her friends. Why should that make her feel guilty? She wanted to return home, would do anything for that opportunity. In fact, she told herself, she ought to have been trying to plan her escape at that moment. Instead, she was just looking around the place, enjoying her present company.

So, she supposed, she should feel very guilty. Because her friends were surely looking for her, and, for now, her own mind was at ease. She should feel guilty, because she hadn't asked to see Ichigo that day. Because she should have wanted to see him enough to ask Ulquiorra to let her out again.

Instead, her feelings of guilt were centered around the very person who had kidnapped her. She was guilty, because she felt as though she had betrayed his trust enough to write the note to begin with. And she wouldn't ask him to allow her to see Ichigo, because she didn't want to be left alone again.

Ulquiorra.

Why had he warned her before the ordeal before Aizen? Why had he come with her? Why had he stayed with her? Why had he seemed so tense? Why was he with her now? Orihime snorted, her brow furrowing. How could one individual—Hollow or not—be so unreadable? Nearly every time he spoke, he sounded as if he hated her, but his actions spoke otherwise.

Actions speak louder than words.

Orihime sighed. Why was the fourth Espada so confusing? Ichigo was predictable—she could read him easily just by glancing at him.

Oh, I hope he's okay…

Ulquiorra hadn't allowed her to see him a second time...

She told herself that she was in the middle of an area he had said wasn't safe, and she didn't want him to leave her alone—here. She looked up, studying his slender figure a small distance ahead. From here, she could see the remnants of his mask, bony and horned, yet just as sleek as he was. They were passing a myriad of dark entrances now, and the hall was expanding gradually, giving it a bloated look. This part of Las Noches held a clammy breeze that came from everywhere and nowhere. It played in the tendrils of her hair, and washed across her face like a winter chill. The silence was eerie…

There was a quiet rustling noise to her right. She stopped suddenly, afraid of the abrupt change in the atmosphere, and whipped her head around to see what it was.

A murky foreboding passage yawned there, the largest of any she had seen yet, or at least it appeared so. It looked empty, innocuous enough, but Orihime envisioned something vicious lurking within its depths. The more she stared, the loftier the cavernous entrance became. It widened sluggishly, and even the sharpest edges of the walls seemed to bend and twist until…

Orihime held her breath, took the tiniest of steps forward. There was a ghostly flutter of white fabric near the floor. Someone was standing just beyond the reach of the light. Who…? The redhead squinted, took another step forward, and caught the merest gleam of white where the being's eyes should have been. She gasped—it was watching her.

"Wh—who's there?" she asked, wanting to step back, but finding that she was unable to even move.

"Wh—who's there?" her own voice echoed, yet the sound came not from the vaulted labyrinth, but from the being in front of her. Orihime peered curiously at the figure, unwilling to step forward to see, but found that she could not distinguish any more than the dim flutter of fabric, and the cadaverous eyes.

"Come closer, I want to play!" the figure said cheerfully, still in Orihime's voice, and to her horror, the human girl found her feet moving of their own accord. They walked stoically towards the dark passage, each step laborious. She would have shrieked in terror, but her voice was gone. Orihime swallowed, her heart beating frantically.

"No! Stop!" she let out a strangled yell, and for a moment, her legs stilled, but were soon forced to amble towards the yawning passage once again.

Without warning, a swift white blur obscured her field of vision entirely, just before a lurid green radiance threw her surroundings into the light. The ominous cavern shrank back to its normal size immediately as the viridian rays entered within it. It took her a few seconds to realize that the white figure in front of her was Ulquiorra. He held a luminescent sphere of Cero outstretched in the palm of his right hand. She peeked around him, but the thing in the corridor was already gone…

Ulquiorra let the green light die in his hand, and whirled, facing her.

"Do not fall behind," he said accusingly. This time, there was a trace of anger in his subdued tone. Orihime lowered her own gaze apologetically—she simply hadn't been paying attention. He had saved her from whatever it was that lurked inside…

He saved me...

"I'm sorry," she stuttered, her heart still pounding. "I didn't know—" Ulquiorra didn't allow her to finish, but only continued on, expecting her to follow.

…that there were Hollows here.

Of course there are Hollows here… I'm in Hueco Mundo, walking around with one!

The labyrinth was continuing to widen, and, she realized, was becoming brighter. As Ulquiorra turned down another corner, she saw, not more winding monotonous corridors, but a wide entrance up ahead. Hardly daring to believe it, Orihime rubbed her eyes with unsure hands. A vast desert was visible just beyond the huge, square doorframe. Even from so far away, she could feel the dry breeze against her skin, and hear the constant rattle of sand against stone. An exit! She smiled—glad at last to see that Hueco Mundo was something more than just a great big dreary castle.

But Ulquiorra did not lead her near the grand entryway. Instead, he chose a side path to the left of the desert; they passed under a decrepit arch that led them into an ancient tunnel, still well lit but musty with the smell of years. Whereas the walls of Las Noches were smooth and marbled, these were cracked, and some of the original blocks of stone were missing, leaving dark crevices in the surface. Orihime ran her hand along the stone, the pitted wall rough underneath her fingertips. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought they were back in her world, exploring some ancient ruin. At any moment, they could come out on the other side, glad to be back under the warm sun—the opposite end of the tunnel was swathed in rays of white, and the smell of the new breeze was intoxicating after so many hours inside the dark castle. She could barely make out two large gargoyles guarding the entrance back on either side—both took the form of identical marble dragons… but their faces were human, and so worn that they might have been centuries old.

Ulquiorra was the first one out of Las Noches. He turned to regard her at last, seemingly telling her that it was all right to venture outside. She strode forward obediently, and as at last the scene unfolded before her eyes, her breath stilled, caught in her throat.

It was a pale forest, stretching for perhaps a few miles before yielding barren desert again. The trees were pure white and blooming, for every so often a gust of wind would blow stray petals from the gnarled branches, throwing them gently about like glimmering diamonds on the wind. And as they brushed the ground at last, each tiny petal would vanish quietly, fading into nothingness. The trunks of the alabaster trees were like ivory, smooth and flawless as if they, too, were carved from marble. Between the thick forests of iridescent glades, Orihime could see what looked like a shallow pool of crystalline water, except that it seemed to glow faintly as no pond or lake on earth ever would. The liquid was clear and still—she could see tiny white Hollow-fish just below the translucent surface. The water gleamed with the pale colors of the atmosphere, and cast spectral rainbows on the sparkling mist floating peacefully above it. The pool was as still as glass; a perfect mirror of the sky above, stained a fiery crimson by the setting sun.

"What is this place?" she asked breathlessly, smiling incredulously at the Hollow who had brought her here. "It's beautiful."

"It is an oasis," he explained. "Hueco Mundo is saturated in spirit energy. Sometimes this energy accumulates in one area." He turned his attention to the pool between the trees, and Orihime followed his gaze to where it lay, pearly in the vanishing sunlight.

"So, you mean that's actually…? Can you drink it?"

"A badly wounded Hollow might in order to stay alive," he answered expressionlessly. "But the content within it is simply not as potent as that within a human soul." Orihime swallowed, remembering the Hollow in the corridor, and how close she had come to seeing that firsthand.

"Come," Ulquiorra ordered, gesturing towards the clearing. This time, Orihime led the way, wondering what it was he had planned for her. He had surely not brought her here just to look at the flower blossoms. She cast her gaze around the place, remembering. The space was nearly as large as the training field she had sparred with Kuchiki-san in. Those sessions in the rocky canyon seemed so distant now, even though she knew she had only been in Hueco Mundo for a few days. Ulquiorra took a position opposite her, but several feet away. She gawked at him, confused.

"Ready yourself," he said quietly. Orihime opened her mouth in protest, but by then, he was already a blur in motion. So fast! She yelped in shock and terror, and automatically raised a shield before he could land a blow. What was he doing? Were they sparring, or had he finally decided to finish her?

Don't be stupid. You're still 'useful', remember? He just wants a sparring partner.

Some sparring partner.

She was nowhere near as powerful as he was, and she knew it. Nevertheless, she strengthened her shield as strongly as she could. Still, Ulquiorra was smart—maybe she had grown more powerful after all the hours of training she had spent with Kuchiki-san. Could it be possible that she was just as strong as he was? Orihime made a wide-eyed, comical face as he phased nearer.

She didn't want to hurt him!

The swift impact of his hand formed intricate spider web fractures that spread instantaneously across the entire surface of her shield. His pale, pointed fingers penetrated it; Orihime could see the sharp contrast between the frosty skin of his hand and the pale orange of his face outside the cracked barrier. Ulquiorra withdrew, the hole in her defense crumbling even more under the strain. Orihime stared into the green eyes, stained scarlet in the incandescent light. Then, without warning, he phased in behind her. She flinched instinctively. His sharp digits were inches from her neck, and his mouth was near her ear again.

"You are holding back," he pointed out. She was surprised by how even his breath was, even after all that movement. The wind ruffled his dark hair, and some of it brushed against her skin softly. Despite herself, she felt her face grow warm. The mangled triangle faded quickly, its thrumming note leaving nothing but the sound of his whispered voice. "If I had wanted to, I could have shattered it."

"Why didn't you?" she asked him. She felt him move away from her, saw him reenter her line of sight. His gait was lazy, his hands in his pockets again.

"It would neither suit my purposes, nor your purpose here."

"And that is?"

Ulquiorra stopped and gazed at her thoughtfully.

"Your weakness lies not in your ability, but in your willpower on the battlefield," he explained. "You have strength, Orihime, but not the will to use it—lest you harm your enemies." The words were not meant to insult, but Orihime bristled at this comment, her mouth parted while she thought quickly to come up with a sharp-tongued retort. "You only defend at your full capacity if others' lives are at stake."

"How do you even know that?" the redhead blurted.

"I have seen you."

"The day you and that big Menos came?" she asked.

Ulquiorra nodded once.

"Your resolve strengthened when you realized what was about to be done to your friend," he continued. "Here, you may have to defend only yourself. Those within Las Noches are stronger and faster than any attackers you have faced yet. To survive, you will not only need to face them without any doubts, but with skill to match theirs.

"That is why I brought you here."

Orihime gawked at him, astonished. He was actually trying—to help her? Or perhaps, she reasoned, only to keep her safe long enough so that Aizen could use her power for whatever he had planned. Or so that Ulquiorra wouldn't have to watch over her night and day—just so he wouldn't constantly have to be there to scare away any murderous Hollows. But, Orihime thought, he had come out to spar with her himself—and the fourth Espada wasn't one she would picture as being lazy. That in mind, she looked determinedly in his direction, and nodded once.

"All right then," she said, although a trace of her uncertainty bled into her voice. She took up her favorite stance. Ulquiorra closed his green eyes for a moment, slid his hands out of his pockets, and flew forward. Orihime quickly constructed a shield, and watched satisfied as his outstretched hand glanced off of it. He was an enemy now, she told herself, but more than that…

She just didn't want to disappoint him…

He vanished instantly, brought himself to her back. Too fast!—Orihime leaped aside clumsily, her somersaulting roll ending with her kneeling on the smooth earth. Her mind was drawing up ways of trying to slow him down, but he was already above her, and she had to dive aside again. She glared wildly around, and saw him standing where she had been kneeling only seconds before. Orihime grimaced, rubbing her aching side—she had rolled over a pointy rock. Her hair was muffed, her clothes wrinkled and dirty. She imagined she must look like a mess sitting there on the ground. She rose quickly, brushing off her dusty skirt.

"If you cannot generate a new shield fast enough," he said quietly, "manipulate the one you already have." Orihime's brows rose.

Easy for you to say.

Still, she hadn't thought of that before… and it would provide a far better defense than her stationary triangle, which only protected the front of her.

But how do I move it?

She rubbed her elbow thoughtfully. Maybe if she concentrated on different spaces around her at different times? Difficult to do, since she had to focus to keep the shield up anyway. And he moved so fast—she wouldn't be able to keep up even if she managed it. She thought to tell him this, but he was already in motion again, rushing towards her from behind. Orihime threw a shield up, haphazardly, and strengthened it as his hand struck the fiery barrier—hard. She felt herself step backwards, but the shield remained intact. He dashed to her right, and, as if in slow motion, she saw him thrust his hand forward. Orihime grunted in exertion, her hands moving quickly to intercept it, and remarkably, the shield moved along with them.

Crack.

His strike had fractured the transparent wall. But Orihime was determined not to let it splinter this time—she filled the barrier with energy, and it thickened, the gouge mending slowly. He moved again, appearing in different positions around her so fast that her eye found difficulty tracking him.

He's testing me to see if I can follow him.

She struggled to keep her eyes locked on his dancing form. In a frenzied blur, he was directly in front of her. She yelled incoherently and leaped back, her shield forming a bright, sparking sunburst between them as his spear-hand struck it. And then, he vanished.

Orihime looked wildly around for him, watching the tranquil oasis. The blossoms in the trees rustled innocently, their petals falling like snow all around her. The sun had dipped low on the horizon; Hueco Mundo's sky was painted a deep amethyst by its fading light. Stars on the opposite end of the heavens were only just awakening. The glade around her seemed to glow with an iridescent light. It was so silent; she could hear her own frantic breath… She couldn't sense him anywhere—he was shielding his reiatsu from her.

There was a rushing noise from above. Orihime's gaze shifted upwards, abruptly; heart skipped a beat as she saw him fall as swiftly as an arrow loosed from its bow. She raised a shield, its thrumming noise betraying its strength, and there was a sharp clash like the sound of metal blades striking one another as he attacked. She tensed, felt her energy drain with the attempt to hold up the shield; and just as she thought it would fail, he leaped away. A graceful somersault brought him to a nearby tree trunk—he knelt there as if frozen in time, neck craned upward to observe her with gleaming cat-like eyes.

She gazed back wearily, breathing heavily. Her body ached with the effort of defending herself against him. He was too strong, she told herself—he had been holding back, had leaped away when he felt her energy drain away. Her knees began to buckle beneath her. Her battered shield flickered like a dying flame. Even if she did manage to defend herself again, she wouldn't ever have the power to help her friends against the real enemy. The path ahead was clear for them—they would have to fight Aizen and his newly created Arrancar. But he was too strong, and she could do nothing…

"Weakness," she heard him breathe.

What?

He leaped. She saw his feet leave the tree trunk, saw stray spirit-energy petals follow him a small distance before floating lifeless to the ground and fading away. As he neared her, she managed to throw the barrier between them, her muscles tensed as she braced herself for his strike. He had called her weak… The thought repeated itself in her mind—it made her angry. All those times she had tried to defend her friends, and failed—was it because she wasn't strong enough? Was that the reason Kuchiki-san had left her, even though they had trained for nearly a month for that moment?

No…

She had defended her friends the day Ulquiorra and the other Arrancar had come. When no one else was able to stand, it was she who had saved them—just long enough for Ichigo to come.

You have strength, Orihime, but not the will to use it.

She had been doubtful… was that why he had said she was weak?

Her shield rose to defend her, and it began to mend, even as Ulquiorra tried to break through. He watched in astonishment as it grew brighter and brighter between them. From beyond the shield, she could see him, thought she caught a hint of surprise, just before—

There was a flash of green, and the barrier disintegrated, leaving only a gash in the ground where it had been, and the empty space between Hollow and human. The force of the blast had thrown Orihime to the earth, but Ulquiorra was still standing, his arms folded. He looked neither tired nor particularly impressed. The redhead winced, tried to conjure another shield, but found that she could not. She peered up at him disdainfully.

"I'm not weak!" she yelled defiantly. "You're just a big bully!" She tried to rise, but tripped on an upturned stone and fell on her backside again. "Ow!" Her eyes found his, daring him to laugh—but he only gazed back at her, perplexed and unsmiling.

"You cheated," she accused him, panting. She was surprised at how fatigued she was. It had taken a lot of effort to move the shield like that, let alone strengthen it. "You used your Cero."

"Another Hollow would have done the same," he replied calmly, raising an eyebrow. "And I did not use its full potential." He looked away from her, strode towards the old tunnel, and Orihime felt a twinge of disappointment. She had considered her actions as an accomplishment, another step forward. But he acted as though it were something paltry. Kuchiki-san always complimented her, at least, whenever she did something noteworthy.

She sat morosely on the ground, rubbing her aches and pains from the battle—and mentally berating Ulquiorra for being such an inane jerk. A powerful jerk, but a jerk nonetheless.

"Come, woman," he ordered quietly from the path's entrance, and Orihime rose with a grunt and glared.

"I told you, my name's not woman!" she yelled indignantly, her fists clenched. She felt her face redden, and it only made her angrier. "And I'm not done with you yet!" She was determined to have him say something to her, compliment her in some way. If she had to beat him up to get him to do that, then she told herself she would. In her mind, she called for Tsubaki, but again, he did not answer her. And in any case, she was too tired to summon him now, and she knew it.

Ulquiorra stared curiously at her for a moment, not quite understanding. She had said he cheated, but he had only used another facet of his many abilities—and then, not even to its full extent, lest he harm her. What was more, she appeared as if she still wanted to fight—but he could sense that she was fatigued. The meeting with Aizen had tired her, and their mock-duel had taxed her even more. She needed to rest and eat, and perhaps clean up as well. Ulquiorra's gaze shifted to her muddied clothes, and then returned to her defiant face.

"Come on, I'm not done!" she called, and her eyes sparkled. She stomped her foot as she said it, once, forcefully. But try as she might, she would not get him to change his mind—of that he was certain.

"We are finished today," he said flatly, as one would remind a child throwing a tantrum. They stared at one another unblinkingly, as if matching wills. Finally, Orihime looked away, her expression reverting to one of—sadness?

What was wrong with this girl?

"We will continue tomorrow," he said, watching her carefully. She did not respond, only drew nearer to the entrance of the tunnel, eyes downcast and sullen. What exactly did she want him to do? Why was she wearing that expression? She walked past, not acknowledging him at all, and continued down the corridor. This time, it was he who quickened his pace to keep up.

The trek back was silent and uneventful. The two of them went side by side, slowly, since Orihime was tired. Every so often, she would glance over at him, but as soon as his eyes met hers, she would look away. As they neared her room, Orihime stopped, perhaps waiting for him to say something.

"Someone will bring you more clothes to wear," he remarked, studying her from head to toe. He saw the color immediately rise in her cheeks. "I suggest you clean yourself up." He watched amusedly as her eyes narrowed.

"Well, good night then," she said scathingly, not looking at him, and with that, she made her way to the bathroom. Ulquiorra left the hallway, wondering what it was she had wanted him to say, or do... why she was so unreadable.

He found that he no longer bothered to wonder why it was he even cared.

The mock-fight had been just as fascinating as he had hoped--wasn't that enough?

Bwa ha ha! Chapter four… it's a bit shorter than I would have liked… but, moving right along! The story gets more interesting from here, methinks.

Lawl! Please please please review! 3