Bird Cage: Chapter 10

Hi everyone, sorry for the week delay. Things should be good after today, but with Christmas coming around the corner things have been busy.

…..

The castle was empty, aside from Orihime's lone figure as she traversed the hallways. Quiet fluttering of birds as they nested against the windows and crevices of the castle accompanied her rhythmic footsteps.

It was oddly peaceful and how she imagined death would be.

It was a journey marked by the subtleties that were hard to notice or focus on during life.

How often did we notice or appreciate the vacuum of silence before the world outside awoke?

The princess laughed to herself quietly and listened as the castle mimicked her sounds. The resonance was as twisted and macabre as she herself felt. It was hard to pinpoint in her psyche how deeply she hated being alone. When she was beside Nelliel or Ulquiorra, the castle was warm and interesting but alone-

Orihime made her way over to the banister and touched the polished mahogany. The railing was cold and smooth and she kept her hand rested against it as she made her way down the stairs. Looking down at the vast space below, she wished that she had the opportunity to see people dancing at least once.

With vivid detail, she could almost see how wonderful the dancers would appear and the excellent acoustics of the hall. Her transformative imagination gave birth to something that gave her hope and she considered all the great things to look forward to when she came back.

The hallucination ended when her feet reached the marble floor and she sniffled involuntarily.

Striding adroitly, Orihime made her way to the end of the hall at the large mahogany doors. Her feelings of grief and ache rose and were close to boiling over. She took a second to calm herself down.

Hesitating for a moment as she clutched the doorknob, Orihime listened for any last sound, any sign that there was a soul awake within the castle. She half hoped that Ulquiorra would come down the stairs and ask her to stay – to somehow convince her with his logical and analytical reasoning. There was a numbing feeling of cowardice within her heart that yearned that the decision would be made for her. All important decisions usually were.

Tears stung her eyes as she became more sentimental.

When she first arrived, she had expected some sort of prison, however her home was so lovely and the people were so warm. There were so many marvellous things that she had yet to see and so many interesting things to learn. She wished more than ever that she had got to know the servants better or listened more intently at the gossip within the kitchen.

She wrenched open the doors and squinted as a blinding gust of snow and sleet drove into the gap and pushed past her. The howling of the wind roared through the castle and Orihime attempted to yank the doors close before everyone awoke.

As she strained and cried out to latch the doors together, a gloved hand stretched out and pulled the wood back in place with ease. Sighing with relief, Orihime turned to see what at a glance may have been an abominable snowman.

His whole body was coated thickly with snow and once he pulled his hood down, Orihime was relieved to see that it was Grimmjow.

Orihime's relief was short lived when she realised that he still wore the same blood-soaked bandages from the previous day, the gentle colours of Nelliel's gown now covered with dirt and what may have been suppuration.

He nursed a glass bottle in one hand and rested his other palm against the door, leering down at her with unfocused eyes.

Orihime worried that he was not only drunk, but suffered severe damage to his head.

"Did you tell 'em good bye?" Grimmjow asked, taking a swig of his drink and matching her pace down the steps.

"I'm not really good with goodbyes." Orihime admitted.

He laughed, but the princess noted the absence of mirth in his face. She felt guilty, but if she were to stay and wait for everyone to wake up, she doubted that she would have the will power to leave.

"Have you been out here the entire night?" She asked, worried for his health. "You hate the cold."

He grunted, the fatigue evident on his countenance. Orihime suspected that he had been drinking all night to counter the cold and that did not help his condition in the slightest. He needed immediate medical attention.

"Just come inside and sit by the fire and I'll grab you something to eat." Orihime offered, trying to lead him by the arm into the castle.

Instead of accepting her care, he hoisted her onto his shoulder and lumbered down the steps through the snow. Orihime could sense his legs sinking into the cold sea of frost and her heart lifted, knowing that she would not freeze to death from the feet upwards having to traverse through the ice.

"I'll take you back to your hero so that the wolves don't eat ya." Grimmjow slurred, his booming voice so loud that Orihime feared he would wake everyone inside the palace.

Orihime's greatest concern was having to face anyone or see the potential hurt or betrayal on their faces. She did not want confrontation or sad goodbyes that would add to her compounding guilt. Strength was not her strong suit and she was personally glad that the last person she would see was Grimmjow.

Grimmjow would not miss her or mourn that she was gone.

After he handed her to Ichigo, Orihime had no doubt in her mind that someone would notice his condition and would help him after she left. She did not have time to meddle in the affairs of his health and there were many people that would do a much better job at bandaging him up properly.

It was for the best, anyway.

"I appreciate it, but you don't have to do that." Orihime's voice wavered.

The princess did not know how long it took for her to respond. She was too deeply wrapped in her thoughts and selfish motivations.

Tears began to spill out of her puffy, tired eyes and she wiped them away with her glove. The breakthrough of sadness sparked a chain reaction of uncontrollable sniffling and sobbing. Orihime began to hiccup, croaking violently with no end in sight. Showing Grimmjow weakness added to her frustrations and she half expected him to mock her until she was truly inconsolable.

"I can't stand hearing people cry." Grimmjow said with a groan. "If you're going to make a decision you've got to stick to your guns."

"I know… and I'm trying really hard but I just- I just can't help it." Orihime cried haltingly. Her sentences came out stilted and incomprehensible and she did not know how to articulate how she felt.

He listened to her agonising eruption in silence, a soberness in his gait as he walked with powerful strides through the woods. Orihime did not know if he was angry or had already had enough of her emotional outburst, but she felt so annoyed with herself and disappointed that she no longer cared.

"Then get stronger." Grimmjow advised. "Get strong so you're afraid of nothing and then nothing will ever hurt you."

Without realising, the princess had gripped him so tightly that she may have added to his bruises.

"Okay," She agreed. Orihime took deep breaths until she could calm herself down. Her hiccupping gradually receded and she felt a little better than she had before. "Thank you."

Grimmjow said nothing, but patted her backside in an off-colour attempt to comfort and cheer her up. Orihime was more than mortified, but she feared that saying anything would bring insult to him and he would toss her into the snow and leave her there.

At the feeling of her body stiffen with unease, Grimmjow laughed crudely and took another swig of alcohol.

…

Orihime decided that her best course of action would be to treat Grimmjow's injuries. It was the least she could do as he had tried – in his own unhelpful way – to help her. She had convinced him to take her back to his little hut because every time that he and Nelliel sparred, he would also most likely have to treat himself for any scratches or injuries he got along the way.

Grimmjow slouched against his bed like a child, both hands nursing the neck of his bottle of liquor. He mumbled incoherently every now and again and Orihime tried her best to respond to keep the conversation going.

With great difficulty, Orihime had found some bandages, although not before she had torn up the under-layer of her gown. She managed to start a small fire and ruined a perfectly new kettle by blackening the bottom.

Material goods were a small price to pay for someone's wellbeing and she satisfied herself with the thought that hopefully he wouldn't be too angry after he became lucid.

As the princess rattled through his cutlery, she was relieved to find a small basin that she could pour hot water in and begin the process of cleaning up his injuries. When she finally had the strips of ripped up cloth that were previously the underside of her new gown settled in the water, Orihime got to untying the soiled make-shift bandages on his head.

"Have I ever told you that you're pretty fine?" Grimmjow murmured, gazing up at her with a lazy grin stretched across his face.

"Of course not, because you know I don't want to hear that from you." Despite her harsh words, Orihime laughed appreciatively.

Nelliel had done excellent work tying the bandages. It took Orihime what felt like an eternity to finally undo the tight wrapping and knots.

"How's it looking, doc?" Grimmjow asked, a faint touch of concern under the surface of his confidence.

When Orihime could see the full extent of his injuries, she tried not to faint or vomit and smiled as reassuringly as possible.

She needed to close the wound so that it would not fester and get worse.

"It's just a scratch." Orihime lied. She reached for the wet towel and squeezed, keeping herself busy to hide the shaking in her hands. "Do you have a needle and thread anywhere around here?"

Grimmjow flung his hand wordlessly in the direction of what she assumed would be a medical kit. Orihime hurried over and opened every cupboard and tore out every little thing he kept packed away until she came across an old wooden box full of first aid necessities.

Lifting the box carefully and resting it on the table next to the basin, she washed her hands thoroughly. "This is going to hurt a bit." Orihime warned him as light-heartedly as she could manage.

Scrubbing away all the grime from his brow, the princess maintained her warmest smile and occasionally looked down at Grimmjow with tenderness. The anxiety that strained her mind beforehand that Ichigo would come looking for her soon remained carefully at the end of her list of priorities.

"Can't feel a thing." Grimmjow reassured her casually as he took another swig of alcohol.

"That's because you are drunk – and you really shouldn't be drinking."

Orihime genuinely no longer minded that he was drunk as the next part would have hurt badly if he was not numbed with alcohol. When she readied her thread and needle, she became detached to the gory sight in front of her and instead worked at closing the wound.

"You've got a knack for this." Grimmjow said, watching her intently.

"I could be sewing your ear to your eyebrow and you wouldn't notice because you're too intoxicated." Orihime joked.

Grimmjow laughed wholeheartedly and she could not help but smile as she waited for him to still.

"You can tell me how much of an excellent job I've done after I get back." Orihime smiled caringly.

Occasionally she had to gulp back the bile that rose in her throat and maybe she smiled more tightly than usual, but Orihime truly enjoyed the experience of mending someone. It filled her with a sense of purpose that she had not felt from weaving or sewing.

The princess did not have any delusions that her work was anywhere near sufficient, however it motivated her to learn how to heal people properly that spanned outside of basic common sense. Orihime hoped that if her stay in the heavenly courts was lengthy, she would be able to devote her spare time to learning medicinal sciences so that she could impress everyone once she returned and maybe even be useful.

Once Orihime had finished wrapping his wound with clean bandages, she knelt down and unlaced his boots. Hoisting his legs up onto the bed and positioning him so that he was comfortably elevated was difficult due to his enormous size, but she somehow managed.

His body seemed limp and heavy and his skin pale and cold to the touch yet feverish and damp. She did not know what more there was she could do except allow him to sleep off the worst of his illness and hope and pray that Nelliel would find him before complications arose.

Quickly, Orihime found a small piece of parchment that contained a few short Nephilim sentences that she could not translate. Finding a crude sharpened pencil of charcoal nearby, she began to write a brief note.

She detailed that Grimmjow needed immediate medical attention and that he needed constant supervision, that she did not know how badly his injuries were but that they were enough to worry her. Knowing that either Nelliel or Ulquiorra would find the note before anyone else would, she finished with a delicate 'I love you both'.

Orihime did not know how much time had passed but she sat at the end of the bed until she was sure that Grimmjow had fallen asleep. She pressed her palm against his face and checked his temperature.

"I don't know why, but it's easier to talk to someone when I know they can't hear me." Orihime whispered, more to herself than him. "I wish that I could be like you and everyone. I wish that I could be strong and confident and useful. I know that I have nothing to be proud of. I know that I'm weak and a coward… but as long as I keep trying and fighting I can live just like you, right?"

The princess sighed, not knowing how to translate the complexities that stirred within her thoughts.

"I just want to be free." Orihime said as tears spilled down her face.

She wiped her face and tried to smile as best she could.

"Goodbye, Grimmjow."

…..

Thanks for reading everyone!

I feel absolutely amazed and honoured by your responses for last chapter.

I remember that one of you asked me a question in a review, but I couldn't respond because it was a guest account because they forgot their account details (I know that feeling, ahaha).

To clarify, the question was if the horse incident last chapter was inspired by my dog getting bitten by a snake.

The short answer is no, however I thought I might take the chance to explain how I've set out and organised this story. When I first started writing, I wrote a loose dot-point summary of how the story proceeds right from beginning to the end. This was a couple of years ago now so I couldn't predict what would happen although it is kind of uncanny that my dog got bitten right when I came up to writing that scene.

The incident with my dog was pretty mundane, not at all gory and it wasn't anything like the horse scene. In fact, she's fine and has been at my feet sleeping and playing for an entire month, ahaha. It wasn't a close call, there was no panicking and we got to it within minutes of it happening, so way before her life was anywhere near in danger.

I hope that clears things up guys, and sorry for the long author note!