Author's Note: Thank you guys for sticking with the story despite all the setbacks! I think we're halfway through it now!

I went a little light on the action here, mostly because I had no idea how I should organize this chapter and the next without being really unsatisfied. I wanted to focus a little on the emotional aspects (coughemoshitcough) of Orihime and Ulquiorra.

More asskicking next chapter. And UlquiHime. (That should go without saying. LOL)

And, uh... sorry it's not as epic-ly long as the previous chapters have been?

. .

DISCLAIMER: Bleach and its characters belong to Tite Kubo, Shounen Jump, etc. Songs involved belong to those who rightfully apply; not me. Everything is only used for non-commercial purposes.

Listen while you read: "Vulnerable" by Roxette; "Chasing Pavements" by Adele; "Mikazuki" by Ayaka


[08] - Chasing Pavements

- { spring rains } -

Rangiku lounged on the sofa in her captain's office, her feet up as she rested her eyes from another round of sake. It was a habit of hers. It was mid-afternoon when her lips first touched the rim of the bottle, and now it was sometime after dinner, and there she was on her way to dreamland.

Distantly, she heard the door open and close, followed by a familiar irritated tsk. Without opening her eyes, Rangiku called out, "Good evening, Hitsugaya-taichou~"

"Great, you're drunk," Toushiro grunted, trudging across the room to where she assumed was his desk. "Just the condition I want you in when I need to talk to you."

Rangiku opened her eyes and turned over, propping her chin up on her palm to face the young captain. "Oh? Something like that won't make me any less attentive."

Toushiro didn't argue. In fact, he didn't look like he was in the mood to snap at her. "Fine," he said curtly. He pointed to the chair in front of his desk. "Sit."

"You're rude today," she scoffed lightly, but complied without protest. As soon as her rear hit the cushion of the chair, he began to speak.

"I need you to go to the living world," he stated tonelessly.

Rangiku blinked. What was so bad about that? Toushiro made it sound like he wanted her to march into Hueco Mundo. "The living world?" she repeated. "I love the living world!"

"Let me finish," he bit at her, and continued. "Yamamoto-soutaichou and Kurotsuchi originally assigned me something I think you would do a better job with." From the sleeve of his robe, the white-haired male took out an envelope, which had already been opened, and held it out for her to take. "Here are the objectives, but I'll summarize for you."

Rangiku, raising an eyebrow curiously, nodded and took it, but didn't open it.

"You need to go down and retrieve Inoue," he said. "But you can't exactly tell her why. That's the hard part. It may take some time, but she knows you better than she knows me."

"But you're going to tell me why, right?" Rangiku suddenly felt sobered up, realizing that this mission was assigned on behalf of Mayuri, the captain of the Twelfth Squad and leader of the researching department. While his intentions in the long run were usually beneficial, his methods were, a lot of the time, cause for ethical concerns.

"I said let me finish, Matsumoto," Toushiro reprimanded her again. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, you're also going to check up on the Resurrected, to see how they're doing, but that's mostly a front. You're supposed to be more concerned with observing Inoue's abilities ever since she absorbed the Hougyoku's powers."

"How am I going to do that?" she asked, frowning doubtfully. She recalled the fairies wanting to create a mental blockade to keep Orihime from using anything, as her spells may have been contaminated with a mutant form of the Hougyoku's powers.

Toushiro lifted a fisted hand, laid it across the desk, and opened it palm up. Inside was a small, cylindrical container. "Kurotsuchi designed a pill to counteract the blockade. I'm not familiar with the technology, but he probably knows what he's talking about."

Rangiku tentatively took the container out of his hand. "And so, I...?"

"Give one to her while you're down there," he finished for her.

She paused, unsure. "... I don't know if I trust Kurotsuchi-taichou."

"None of us do, but with the dimensional barriers thinning out, we have no choice. Too many Hollows are coming into Soul Society."

Rangiku rose from her seat, looking like she was going to go along with the assignment, but her knitted eyebrows said otherwise. "Why can't you do this, again? You have more authority than I do, as captain. She would go along with you if—"

"That's the thing, Matsumoto. Since I do have more authority, I would perceived to be more of a threat to Kurosaki and the others. And since the masking plan is to observe the Resurrected, it would be fishy if a captain was assigned to do something simple like that."

She frowned at him. "How strategic."

He made a disapproving tsk sound. "I think of it more along the lines of common sense." He stood up and crossed his arms. "Look, no one really likes Kurotsuchi, and at times, Yamamoto-soutaichou, but you're not doing this for them alone. You're doing this for the safety of Soul Society."

Just then, a shock of foreign energy jolted through both of them.

Hollows had appeared near Seireitei.

Toushiro's already stern expression hardened. "I'll take care of this," he said wearily. "You go on assignment."

"But—"

"Moreover," Toushiro cut in, getting up from his chair to stand by the window. He planned on exiting that way. "I don't want to face the Espada that almost killed me." He turned around to open the window.

Rangiku sighed. She knew him well to know that he had his back to her because he saw his confession as weakness. Full of stubborn pride, but nonetheless, a weakness that put a dent in his usually proficient attitude.

Before she could get a word in, Toushiro disappeared out of his window in a flash, dashing onto the rooftops with lightning-fast speed.

The strawberry blonde was left confused and somewhat disoriented. An odd situation had been shoved onto her, and she wasn't left any room to protest, much less, enough time to let it all register into her head.

Rangiku hadn't been in Hueco Mundo during that time, but she knew the story so well that she might as well have been part of it; it was often repeated and elaborated on during meetings and within conversations.

It won't be easy for Orihime to come back to Soul Society for the task they needed; not with Ichigo's group in the way, or with Orihime's mental state. At least, that was what Rangiku thought.

Moreover, she just didn't want to do it. But no matter how much her heart, her mind, and her gut wanted to fight the mission forced on her, she was alone. Who else would want this? Who else would was friendly enough with Orihime to be successful?

I guess there's nothing else but to be professional... she thought to herself, and left the office.

- { - } -

The days were growing warmer. The appearance of the sun was no longer sporadic, but constant. The days became longer and the trees began to grow leaves again.

It was March, according to the humans. The season of spring was upon them all.

Gradually, the three Arrancars' grasp of the human world got better. They could almost pass for true humans. They learned fast, but their questions and curiosity of their environment never ceased. For example...

"What the fuck is graduation?" Grimmjow asked no one in particular, watching as some third-year students passed by usual group, who were all eating lunch outside. The blue-haired troublemaker had caught bits and pieces of the students' conversation, the word sticking out in his mind.

The four real humans—his former enemies—glanced at each other before replying, but Ulquiorra decided not to pay attention to the answer. He was distracted by something else. Someone else, in fact. Even though the little woman he had so often spoken to and silently gazed at was sitting only foot or so away, she hardly paid attention to him. She was avoiding him for some reason, and it bothered him a lot more than it should have. It was inconceivably irritating.

He told himself that they needed space from each other; they spent far too much time in each others' company. Her behavior has only been this way for a week and a half or so. However, Orihime's sudden distance was uncalled for.

Ulquiorra didn't understand what was wrong.

Just when he thought his friendship with Orihime escalated, everything suddenly started to go backward. No, not even that. Everything had just stopped. Their relationship had taken a few steps forward, but then, one random day, leaped a few yards backward.

Ulquiorra stared down at his boxed lunch, which had hardly been touched.

Human bonds are ridiculous.

It was ridiculous how she stayed on his mind even when she wasn't present. It was also foolish of him to dislike when she smiled these days, especially when his reason was that...

... she smiled without me.

"Hey, Batshitfucker," Grimmjow said from out of nowhere.

Ulquiorra stiffened at the name, and without turning, shifted his eyes to his housemate. "What?" he responded curtly.

His peripheral vision met with a long pair of male legs. He found that he was still sitting on the grass. Everyone had gone back inside, minus Grimmjow, of course.

"Are ya gonna just sit there or are ya comin' back in?" Grimmjow asked, with an arched eyebrow. "Lunch is ov―the hell? You didn't even finish it!"

"It wasn't appetizing."

"Are you kidding me?"

Ulquiorra glared at him, and angrily held out the rest of his bentou, which had been prepared meticulously by Tessai that morning. "Have it."

"What the―? Do you ever listen to me? I said class is about to―" Fed up, Grimmjow just sighed instead, and grabbed it. Being on the receiving end of Ulquiorra's irritation was probably not something he felt like dealing with.

"I guess I wouldn't mind a snack after school..."

. .

Orihime was not in her classroom after school that day.

The resulting emotion? He learned it as disappointment. It was strange how human emotion stretched from its ultra highs to its incredible lows; how a heart squeezed and wrenched in pain, and on the other end, swelled with longing. It was as if the heart itself was some kind of―what was the word Sado Yasutora had used when Ulquiorra tried to describe it? An accordian? What was an accordian?

In the locker area, Ulquiorra gathered his belongings to take home. There, he took his speculation one step further.

This emptiness... I suppose this is what human loneliness feels like.

How idiotic of him.

"Hey, Shihaku."

Ulquiorra shut his locker and turned. Behind him stood a girl with a waifish, but strong build. She had short, dark hair. He has seen her before. And he was sure that Orihime, in one of her idle rambles, had mentioned this particular person.

Arisawa Tatsuki.

Before he could question her approach, she jutted a hand out. Her face was hard with deliberation, her eyes sparkling with determination.

A handshake? One of truce? Was she there on behalf of Orihime? Why didn't the woman come to him herself if that was the case?

"Stop staring at my hand and accept the peace offering," she said brusquely, and grabbed his hand to do the gesture for the both of them. His own hand was limp and unreactive with confusion, but he didn't pull away.

"Where is she?" he asked her plainly.

Tatsuki made a face at him and practically threw his hand back to his side. "Orihime? She's at the Handicrafts Club with Ishida. What, you didn't know that?" She hitched a thumb lazily down the hallway. "It's in the 1-E classroom, around the corner. You can check it out for yourself. I was just with her."

An ill feeling coursed through him. "Is that so?"

Tatsuki's expression relaxed a bit as she noticed something off about him. "What's the matter with you?" She shoved him in one direction away from the lockers. "Go! After I finally accept your stupid ass, you're just gonna stand there and look depressed? What the hell?"

"She requests space," an annoyed Ulquiorra finally told her, after regaining his balance.

"She said that?"

"I do not wish to smother her with my constant presence."

"You talk weird," Tatsuki said, blinking in interest. "Like a robot." She waved her hand casually, as if dismissing her own statement. "But really, other than that, you seem more human than I thought," the girl said, a tough touch underneath her mild words.

The human description again.

He must have looked doubtful, because she raised an eyebrow and replied with, "Look, pal. I don't know what the hell your upbringing is to make you so unemotional, but I can tell that you care about Orihime almost as much as I do." She frowned a bit.

He was slightly taken aback. "That is... something you can see?"

Her eyes fell to the tiled floor. "I've watched you a bit; watched you with her. I always saw something... deep in your eyes. I can't really explain it. I think you feel more than you say."

"And her?" he couldn't help but wonder aloud.

This girl had been Orihime's best friend. She must have known the redhead inside and out; she must have been her ardent protector before even Ichigo gained his abilities as a shinigami. She would know this much.

Tatsuki shrugged noncommittally. "She's never had a boyfriend before—"

"That is not what I asked."

She shot a hawk-like leer at him. "That's because you didn't let me finish. What I meant was, she probably doesn't understand her feelings anymore than you do. Take that however you want." She looked down at her watch. "I have to get to the dojo." With a hasty parting wave, she left.

Ulquiorra stared after her briefly before turning back to the hallway. He didn't know how to take Tatsuki's advice.

In fact, he didn't know anything at all.

- { - } -

Orihime glanced down at the bandage on her thumb and pouted as she exited the classroom with Uryuu. It had been a long while since she did any sewing. Her most recent attempt during Handicrafts Club resulted in some finger-pricking.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the Quincy half-smiling down at her. "You'll be able to get back into it," he reassured her. "Just keep coming to the meetings."

She smiled in embarrassment. "Yeah, well..." She was about to make another club-related remark when she saw that Uryuu suddenly stopped, his eyes focused on something down the hallway.

A figure stood against the wall, waiting with aloof grace, with his hands in his pockets and his gaze downward. His mop of dark hair hid his expression from view.

Ulquiorra-kun...

"Well," Uryuu said quietly, his mood shifting to something slightly more awkward, "I guess we part here."

"W-we don't have to," Orihime stuttered helplessly.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Inoue," interjected a sharp baritone voice.

She jumped. Ulquiorra was quickly approaching them. Orihime pretended not to notice the ex-Arrancar casting a quick glare in Uryuu's direction before addressing her again. "You," he said tersely. "Let's go."

"Rather rude, don't you think?" the Quincy broke in warily, a finger against the bridge of his glasses. "Is this why you hesitated, Inoue-san? His brash attitude has never bothered you before."

Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes at her, suspicious. "Hesitated?"

Orihime wished she could blend into the ground. Ulquiorra looked betrayed, while Uryuu already felt quite out of the loop, and it felt like both were putting her on the spot. She didn't blame either of them. It wasn't like she told anyone what she was feeling... that she was scared of her feelings for Ulquiorra, and had been avoiding him for the past week or so.

"I will take her home," Ulquiorra spoke up evenly when she ultimately didn't respond.

Uryuu frowned. "Is that okay with you, Inoue-san?" His eyes went from her gray pools to his former enemy's green, not understanding the situation between them.

In the end, however, she didn't want her nakama to think that anything was wrong. "No, it's okay!" she insisted, forcing a merry smile. "You go home, Ishida-kun."

Uryuu nodded hesitantly. He didn't seem quite trusting of Ulquiorra (nor even Orihime, at the moment), but backed off, anyway. "I'll see you in class, then," he said, and with a short goodbye, left the two alone.

Now that the Quincy had left, Ulquiorra seemed to be in a noticeably better mood. Even his watchfulness of her earlier was forgotten. What kind of effect did she have on him, anyway?

"Let's go."

"N-no... I..." Her voice faltered.

"You just said—"

"I... want to be alone," she explained, looking up at him with an apologetic smile. "You don't have to walk me anymore if you don't want to."

"But I do," he protested calmly, as if she had told him the silliest thing in the world. "What is the matter?"

"Nothing..." she replied weakly. She said this much; now what? She couldn't argue her way out of a paper bag, nor could she force herself to even look away from his heartbreakingly beautiful eyes. Orihime faked a smile. "You're so serious, Ulquiorra-kun. I'm just—"

Slender fingers suddenly seized her arm. She gulped.

His eyes fell to her lips. "Why did you smile like that?" he asked her quietly.

"S-smile like what?"

"I did not feel that smile," he explained, unable to formulate a better description. "It was not in your eyes. It usually is."

Orihime couldn't answer. Without thinking, she reached up and pressed her palm against his gripping hand. He automatically loosened her, his hand dropping to his side.

"Inoue," he went on, glaring at her silence. "Did Matsumoto Rangiku say something to you? Or Kurosaki Ichigo?"

She almost laughed, even in the somber situation. Ulquiorra's aggressive curiosity was still intact, even as a "fake" human. She shook her head and shied away from him. "No, Ulquiorra-kun," she finally spoke up. "I'm only tired."

"Then I can..." his voice trailed off his gaze lowering. He didn't seem to know what to say, either. He looked dumbfounded, confused by his own confusion.

Orihime took a step backward. "I'll see you at school—"

Her words were interrupted by the sudden rumble of thunder outside. Automatically, her pools of gray flickered to the window. The clouds were low and gray, darkening the skies.

"It is about to rain," Ulquiorra spoke up matter-of-factly. Prepared, he reached into his bookbag and pulled out an umbrella.

She paled, silently kicking herself for not remembering her own. Now this was the part where he would insist on sharing it with her.

. .

The walk to her apartment was soundless except for the rain. Every now and then, his arm would brush against hers for a warm, tingling second. Every time it happened, she tensed, her heart almost skipping a beat.

It wasn't until they were in front of the stairs when Ulquiorra broke the gap of silence she usually filled.

"Inoue," he started.

She ducked her head, but even without facing him, she could practically feel his eyes roam her stiffened figure. She couldn't tell if she liked or resented the attention, but either way, she couldn't stop the shiver that ran down her spine.

"You seem distant as of late," he continued carefully, as if the notion was unfamiliar to him. "Why?"

Because I'm scared...

"Eh?" she answered, feigning cheeriness. "I'm not trying to be, Ulquiorra-kun."

"At this point in our relationship, what do you gain by continuing to lie to me?" he countered. He didn't sound angry; it seemed more like he was fed up.

They have had this kind of conversation before, haven't they?

Avoiding the question, Orihime rushed up the stairs (with him, unfortunately for her, on her heels).

That word, relationship...

She didn't know what he meant by it, or if he would ever could understand the different meanings of it—or at least, the different meanings perceived by her.

Namely, the one definition of it she wanted from him.

After pushing the door open, she began to go in—intending to do so by herself—but his arm shot out to block her.

She stared at it, unsure of what to do.

And suddenly, she felt the knee-weakening murmur of his deep voice near her ear.

"Let me fix whatever is wrong."

For the first time, she felt a gentle inflection in his tone; rare expressiveness. She found her eyes drifting to the center of his chest. With the man so close, the breath of his words still lingering against a sensitive area by her ear, she had to fight the weird urge to kiss him where that Hollow hole used to be.

She closed her eyes briefly.

Against her better judgment, she let him in.

- { - } -

A certain lieutenant back in Soul Society stood on the rooftop of a building in Seireitei, having just finished her fight with a few lower leveled Hollows.

The invasion wasn't getting out of hand as of yet, but it was more irritating than the shinigami could bear. If it weren't for the weakening barriers, allowing easier access for the Hollows to appear in Soul Society, more business could have been tended to. But instead, a lot of time was spent doing pest control for the sake of the civilian residents, as well as the non-combatant population within the Court itself.

She sheathed her zanpakutou. As she did so, felt the wind of a flashstep from behind. She recognized the presence immediately, the powerful reiatsu bearing down on her with command.

"It's time, wouldn't you agree?" drawled her captain, in a creepily playful voice. "Matsumoto certainly isn't going anywhere with her share. Let's speed things along, hm?"

"..." Her face did not reveal any reaction.

"Hop to it," he went on in a drastically different tone, one full of warning, "or else."

"Hai."

- { - } -

The rain was getting heavier by the second. Ulquiorra found it to be an interesting phenomenon—this need for water to sustain the ground beneath them. It had never rained in Hueco Mundo. The desert-like world didn't need much to carry on its existence.

What also intrigued Ulquiorra was the humans' need to protect their bodies from the falling waterdrops; how susceptible to sickness they were. Ulquiorra wasn't sure if sickness applied to him in the gigai, but walking around in wet clothing wasn't very pleasant. He guessed it was a relief that his idiot guardian had given him an old umbrella—"just in case."

The apartment was dark; the gloomy weather outside made it hard for him to clearly see her face, but neither he nor Orihime fumbled for the light.

"Let me fix whatever is wrong."

He didn't know where those words had come from. He had acted purely on emotion, an unusual feat. Was it regrettable? It was too early for him to tell.

Orihime went to the window. She looked out at the gray skies, at the rain pouring outside. She seemed to find solace in the noise.

Humans are so helpless.

But it wasn't her he was referring to. As Espada, he could have gotten his way with force and his power. But how could he turn things around as he was now? He has gone nowhere with Orihime; she was still avoidant and secretive.

Quietly, as not to disturb her, he approached from behind. No... she had already sensed him; she was visibly bracing herself for some reason.

On impulse, he reached toward her neck, past her curtain of straight orange-red hair, to see if goosebumps had formed on her smooth flesh. He really didn't have a reason to touch her; he just had the need to.

She flinched. The warmth of his hand must have been a surprise against her cold skin. Orihime craned her neck and then turned, his hand gingerly sliding across her throat as she did, until it rested somewhere on the side of her neck.

Orihime looked up at him with questioning gray eyes when his thumb traveled along her jawline.

She opened her mouth, but seemed to be at a loss for words.

Was this when he was supposed to say something to her? He suddenly forgot.

In turn, Orihime lifted a hand hesitantly, as if daring herself to make movement. Absently, a gentle finger traced over one of the tear-like scars.

Unknowingly, he hitched a breath at the feathery touch. Without realizing, the hand he had on her neck caught hers in mid-caress. Instinctively, his fingers began to intertwine with hers, his palm resting against the back of her smaller hand.

This feels... strangely blissful.

He didn't know what this was; what they were, because it wasn't just friendship.

That wasn't the kind of relationship he wanted to "fix." This bond was something much more intricate. Didn't he seek her company because he wanted to protect her? To return to her what he had taken from her in Hueco Mundo? Wasn't it only because he was indebted to her?

No, it wasn't about that anymore. Grimmjow had been right. It pained him to to think that, but it was true. This truth was now sinking in slowly, but with so much force that for a second, he stopped breathing.

Put simply, he had fallen for her.

Now what? What was he supposed to do?

Orihime's face suddenly turned redder than he had ever seen it. She pulled her hand away quickly, as if his touch burned. "S-Sorry," she mumbled sheepishly.

Ulquiorra looked from her face to his now lonely hand. Once upon a time, he had been good at reading Orihime's feelings and thoughts, but this wasn't one of those moments. Never had he been so confused by someone until now.

"So, um, want some onigiri?" she asked meekly, pointing to her rice cooker. "I can fill it with taro and sriracha sauce." She turned on a light, brightening the room. It somehow felt unwelcome.

"That sounds disgusting," he barked, his tone coming out more testy than he intended, but everything about her just didn't make sense. He hated it.

But wasn't love a senseless chance at a consummated companionship?

"Ulquiorra-kun, please," Orihime said all of a sudden, her voice low but firm. "Just forget it."

"Forget what?" he asked her, although he was very much aware of what she was talking about. He just wanted to hear it from her.

"..."

"What, Woman?" he challenged sharply.

She furrowed a brow. "Ulquiorra-kun," she breathed haltingly, "you... only feel a certain way toward me because I saved you... because you held up that code of honor."

"You still treat me like a charge your Aizen-sama left you."

His hand rose to cover the abrupt twinge in his chest.

That isn't true; not true at all, he wanted to drill into her head, but his mouth suddenly felt dry. But finally, after gaining a bit of composure, he asked her quietly, "Is that what you feel it is?"

Barely looking at him, she nodded.

Ulquiorra felt like the hole from his Espada days had returned, and with vengeance. "Really," he stated, rather blankly.

Even after she had given him her heart a long while ago, he couldn't find the courage to lay out his own...

Mistaking his toneless reply for confusion, she added, like she was the expert on hearts and feelings, "Yeah..."

Judging from the hesitance in her voice, she didn't seem to buy her own words. "But you told me you owed me, right? It's different from... other things—I mean we're friends, of course, but you can't mistake those kinds of feelings for your glorifying me."

'Those' kinds of feelings? Love? He corrected her silently, watching her steadily. "You are right," he said carefully in response. "Those are two different things."

He knew exactly which one it was.

Orihime smiled anxiously, but it immediately dropped at his next words.

"And yours toward me?" he asked pointedly. He continued staring at her, the way she pursed her lips together in nervousness, the way her forehead gently wrinkled in thought, and the way her eyes quickly drifted from his face to the window, so that he viewed her in profile.

He didn't know what to hope or fear, but he just didn't want to lose sight of her. He didn't want it to be her turn—in, of course, a more abstract manner—to fade away.

"I hold our friendship dear," she replied slowly. And then he observed, with a dull, aching pain of unattainable yearning, as she put a hand to her heart. "It's because of that," she continued, her eyes fluttering closed in thought, "that I care deeply about you."

He discovered that his hands had formed into fists. He released the tense grip, feeling oddly defeated. But why? Wasn't this enough? Orihime wasn't Ichigo or the rest of her nakama; she had accepted him enthusiastically, with an unadulterated affection he would never, ever find anywhere else. Besides, he still owed her from all the despair and pain he put her through. Her kindness was already plenty.

"Friends?" Ulquiorra repeated expressionlessly. "Is that all... you desire?"

"Hai." For once, she sounded resolute.

Friendship is enough, he reasoned logically, with his brain.

But in his heart, it wasn't.

At that thought, he knew he had to get out of there. "I must leave," Ulquiorra said in a quiet tone, already making his way to the door. "I have homework to finish tonight."

She didn't move from her position. All he saw was her back: her hourglass figure and the protective shield of orange-red. "Un."

"I will... see you tomorrow." When has his voice ever hesitated like that?

"Un."

He wasn't keen on her impersonal tone, but he gathered that he had made the situation awkward enough.

She wants me to go. Hastily, he put on his shoes at the door, and without a good night, left her apartment.

- { - } -

Orihime found that the only way she could not cry was to close her eyes and blind herself from Ulquiorra's hard, scrutinizing gaze.

Now that he had left, she opened her eyes again, a layer of hot tears readily sliding down her cheeks. She hiccuped and covered her eyes with one arm, her body violently racking with aching sobs. As she withdrew her body inward, her other hand reached up and pressed itself against her heart, as if doing so could stop it from wringing so painfully in her chest.

This was the right thing to do, she told herself.

But never, in all of her life, had she ever felt so heartbroken.

- { - } -

It took every amount of Ulquiorra's willpower to grip the railing of the staircase and step down. His other hand squeezed the handle of the open umbrella in the same manner.

Walk, he ordered himself, every fiber of his mind working his reluctant muscles. Walk away.

He couldn't do anymore for her than to chase down these wet pavements back to his home, numbly staring down at what seemed like an endless path to nowhere.

This emotion: the twist in my chest...

It must be heartbreak.

- { - } -

About half an hour passed since Ulquiorra had left, but Orihime never moved from her spot.

Not even when she heard the door swing open, with two female voices bursting into the gloomy silence.

"Inoue-san?"

"Orihime-chan! What's the matter?"

It wasn't pouring as hard as it had been while Ulquiorra was there. Strange; she usually enjoyed this kind of weather: the rhythm of it against the roof, the window, and the stair railing outside were relaxing to her ears. Now they felt like needles cutting into her heart.

Tia was the first to get her shoes off and set the wet umbrella next to the door. "I apologize," she said softly. "If I had known you were in an ill mood, I would have come back sooner—heavy rain or not."

Orihime must have looked upset enough for the former Arrancar to say that. The gray-eyed beauty shook her head. "It's nothing. Don't mind me..." she insisted weakly. She forced a quivering smile, but continued not to look directly at her companions. "I'll be fine."

Tia and Rangiku exchanged looks. It reminded her of the way Ichigo and Rukia glanced at each other, their eyes full of secrets.

The buxom shinigami offered to make some hot tea, and so, sauntered to the kitchen to do so. Meanwhile, Tia sank down onto the floor at the table, adjacent to her roommate, who followed suit. "We weren't sure at the time, but we thought we saw Ulquiorra on our way back..." she started. The falter of her words indicated an unasked question.

Instantly, Orihime's chest swelled with pain. "No, it's not him," she lied quietly. "I just—a lot of things are just—I don't know, there are a lot of things going on..."

Tia didn't seem convinced. However, she left the subject alone.

"Orihime-chan," Rangiku spoke up instead from the kitchen, her back two the other two girls. "Not to be... I don't know, the bearer of somber news, but I came with Tia-san to speak to you about something."

This caught Orihime's attention, despite her mood. Her gaze rose to meet Rangiku's back. "A-About what?"

"Soul Society."

"S-Soul... Society?" Orihime repeated, as if she had never heard the word before.

"We need your power there."

She blinked stray tears out of her eyes, puzzled. "For what...?"

It was then she remembered Kisuke's special grenades and the purpose of them. Like a water in harsh stormy weather, recent memories began to flood her mind: the Hollow battle, her dreams, the meeting... hurting Ulquiorra.

"... she's rather... formidable."

"Your reiatsu, Onna. It's leaping strangely..."

"It was all real, wasn't it?"

So much continued to haunt Orihime, and she could only sit and watch in fear as certain events and conversations unfolded, hinting at her unwanted memories. She must have blocked them for a reason, and had done that so feverishly that she gave herself headaches. No one thus far has given Orihime a straight answer. After thinking it over, she wondered if it was because of their mental states; not just her own.

By the gods, what did she do?

All she knew was what happened in her dreams—where everything turned to dust. Her recollection never went any further, as if that was enough to hint at "the big thing." Recalling the last time she was in Soul Society, at the way Yamamoto Genryuusai acted toward her, she wondered if it was the only way she could get her answers.

Slender fingers tenderly touched her shoulder.

The redhead blinked as if waking up abruptly from a dream. She tilted her head upward. Rangiku had successfully made a pot of green tea for the three of them. She had just brought it to the table. The lieutenant was frowning for some reason.

"H-Hai?" Orihime asked unsurely.

"Are you really all right?" Rangiku asked delicately. "You look... feverish and out of it."

Orihime looked down at the drink Tia had just now poured her, staring listlessly at the wisps of steam rising from the cup. "Maybe it's the rain..."

"Maybe," the blonde interjected in a serious tone. "But I am more likely to believe that your reiatsu has something to do with it." She calmly fixed Rangiku's and her own serving, adding, "It seems that your emotions have a strong effect on your powers, which in turn affects your physical condition."

Rangiku blew on the tea in her cup and took a careful sip. "With the way things are now," she said, "especially with—"

"That pill," Orihime interrupted with a furrowed gaze, recalling what happened the last time she was with Ulquiorra. "It—"

"I'll get to that; don't worry," the blue-eyed woman replied, and continued. "But with your powers back, you have to be extra careful. You're not a run-of-the-mill fighter anymore." Rangiku set her teacup down. "You absorbed the Hougyoku's power, Orihime-chan," she said gently. "That brings both blessings and consequences. I don't want to get into detail, but during the Winter War, you weakened the barriers surrounding the dimensions of Hueco Mundo, your world, and Soul Society—especially Soul Society. You used up that much power."

Orihime opened her mouth to speak, but Rangiku held a hand up to stop her. "I don't always agree with your friends or some of the members of the Gotei 13 on how they handled that incident," she went on, "but I do agree that if you knew exactly what happened in Hueco Mundo that day, you would mentally collapse and wallow in guilt."

The words struck the teenage girl like lightning. All she could do at the moment was gape at Rangiku, who in return, offered an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry I deceived you, Orihime-chan," she murmured. "... for not telling you what that capsule was. I don't have an excuse for not telling you beforehand. It was a mistake on my part. Urahara relayed to me what happened with Ulquiorra."

Orihime averted her eyes at the mention of his name.

"I just wanted you to think your powers came back on their own," the strawberry blonde explained. "I know how much your inner and outer strength meant to you." She turned her head, looking embarrassed. "Well, anyway, Orihime-chan. I'm afraid my true objective for being here will have to come to light. You can be disappointed in me later."

Next to the long-haired healer, Tia shifted uncomfortably. She seemed to know what the shinigami meant, but stayed out of the way as Rangiku began to lay out the information.

"The weakened barriers are now laced with magic," she explained seriously. "Yours, Orihime-chan. More precisely, a mixture of yours and the Hougyoku's. It's a unique compound that only you can fix. Firstly, because you're the only one we know of with your kind of healing capabilities save for Ushouda Hachigen. And secondly..."

Orihime found herself leaning forward in anticipation.

".. with the Hougyoku absorbed into you, you are probably one of the most powerful people in Soul Society."

The girl gasped quietly.

For a moment, there was a strong silence between the three. Orihime wasn't sure how to digest the shinigami's words about her. They were usually saved for people like Ichigo and her other nakama. "So..." she spoke up, in almost a whisper. "I have to go to Soul Society to restore the entire... perimeter of it?"

Rangiku nodded slowly. "But that's not all. The true source is Hueco Mundo itself, and there are barriers there that don't touch Soul Society, so we'll need to go there, too..."

All along, Orihime had wanted to be important; to be seen as strong, and to be looked up to. But with great importance came an immense amount of pressure, and now that she knew what she was needed for, she hesitated.

And for Hueco Mundo—a place that had given her nightmares for a long, long time—to be within sight again...

Orihime tightened her anxious grip around her cup.

"I don't want to force you," Rangiku went on. She sounded like she was regretting her words, but as an assignment, she had to continue the obligation. "But you are direly needed. If any of the barriers break, the numbers of Hollows will only increase."

"If it makes you feel any better," Tia finally spoke up, speaking far more seriously than the shinigami herself, "Matsumoto-san ensured me that you will be escorted throughout the ordeal by some of your friends. I'm sure they will not take too well with you suddenly leaving alone."

Orihime pursed her lips together in thought, avoiding both their gazes.

That's right...

If she left, then she would be leaving him here for who knew how long. How would she tell him? How would he look at her, then? And when she came back, how would he react? Would they pick up from where they left off? Or would he grow cold again?

That notion saddened her greatly, her heart sore with reluctant longing. For a moment, she wished it was him next to her instead of Tia.

However, it was her own fault that she drove him away. Even though she told herself it was for the better, she still had the urge to cry. But how could she now? Rangiku, oddly enough, had just told her how much strength she had. She needed to play the part, at least, for the time being.

"I've prolonged this mission enough," Rangiku piped up guiltily, running a hand through her wavy tresses. "The guys up there are most likely getting mad up there, but after observing you, I had a feeling you had a lot to deal with."

An understatement.

"Still, I don't think we have much time to keep sitting in the living world."

"I understand," Orihime sighed contemplatively. Basically, the shinigami wanted her to leave as soon as possible. Sure, Rangiku sounded like she was giving her the option of staying, but the healer knew that it would be a cowardly decision to do so.

"I will give you a grace period, if you want to say goodbye," the lieutenant continued in a more pleading tone, even though Orihime has yet to protest.

Despite her own willingness, though, deja vu coldly washed over her. It was the second time she was to depart alone for another world. He had even given her a grace period of sorts, as well—

Ulquiorra's expressionless face, impersonal and authoritative, fleeted across her mind. She remembered it like it was just yesterday. No experience so traumatizing could ever be forgotten, and no man so fearsome could be erased, especially with that liquid emerald stare.

Pang.

"I'm sorry, Inoue-san," Tia broke in, her voice uncharacteristically benign. The redhead swiveled her head to look at her, but the blonde's shamrock green eyes were strained on her tea. "I would be eager to defend you if you do not agree to this arrangement, but... but Matsumoto-san has a point. Hueco Mundo's denizens are not merciful on those they deem weak or petty. The only thing they care about is feeding themselves."

Orihime smiled faintly, dismissing her roommate's excuse, and then turned a purposeful eye to her shinigami friend.

"Orihime-chan?" Rangiku uttered curiously, with an expectant blink.

There was no way around it.

The teenager parted her lips to respond.

"When?"


Oh no! Orihime, how could you drive Ulquiorra away like that? Well, hopefully they'll resolve some things soon. Stay tuned. :P

The next chapter was originally part of this one, but I broke them up because the first draft was getting too long. MEANING, the next chapter shouldn't take months like this one since most of it is already written. XD

I don't know if there are discrepancies or continuity problems, since it has been a few months since the previous chapter. If I (or you) find any, I'll make sure to fix them. :3

. .

} - March/graduation - In Japan, high school graduations are typically in March. There are also three years of high school (as opposed to say, four years here in the States).