P . A . T . H . W . A . Y
X
Farewell
He reached her room swiftly, realizing long before he neared the threshold that something was terribly wrong. She wasn't there—he had sealed the door, but she was gone. And now that he had entered her room, he saw that both door and wall had been completely destroyed. There were signs of a battle, but nothing more that was visible. However, two auras registered weakly—Arrancar with abilities far less than his own. They were trying to hide their spiritual pressures nearby, running down the hall obviously frightened at his abrupt presence. Ulquiorra grew irritated, knowing that he should have masked his own reiatsu the moment he sensed that Orihime was missing.
An orb of Cero flared in his hand—he loosed it at the wall behind which he knew the two Hollows to be running. An explosion wracked the already ruined marble, and beyond the settling debris, he saw two dark-haired women, both recently thrown back against the smooth floor. The two of them exchanged glances for a moment before scrambling to their feet. But as they scurried to run away, Ulquiorra blurred into existence directly in their path. Both faltered backwards, falling to the floor in their effort not to run headlong into him.
"Ulquiorra-sama," the first said in a terrified voice, her head bowed, while the other stared up into his flashing eyes. "We didn't realize—"
"Where is she?" he demanded, his tone arctic. He didn't care for these Hollows' excuses, only for Orihime's whereabouts, and fortunately for the obviously confused one he was addressing, her counterpart knew exactly who he was talking about.
"Grimmjow took her outside with him," the second replied quickly.
"She healed us," the other remarked shortly after, as if the information would stop him from blasting them as Grimmjow had. But Ulquiorra was already making his way outside; he would deal with these two later, he decided. If they were in any way intelligent, they would get as far away as possible from Hueco Mundo before he returned. But for now, his immediate concern was Orihime.
He had to get her back.
The Espada flashed over the blank yellowed dunes, his senses piqued for the cerulean-haired Arrancar's reiatsu as well as hers, hoping that she was all right. Why had he been so reckless? He should have finished the battle faster—should have counted on the ryoka's perseverance. Or made certain that his seal was strong enough not only to keep her in, but others out. He blinked once—that was in the past now; what was done was done—but what could Grimmjow want with her?
He quickened his pace.
And then it occurred to him: Grimmjow had brought her to heal the shinigami so that he and the ryoka could finish their moronic fight to the death. Ulquiorra altered his course over the desert sands, making his way back to where he had left the shinigami injured.
Injured but not dead. He was regretting his promise already.
He blurred in just as Orihime's healing shield was lifted over the ryoka, who was the first to notice the Espada's sudden presence. Ulquiorra's gaze was not trained on him, but on Orihime instead. She turned towards him at last; his worry dissolved immediately, only to be replaced by fury when he looked at the man who was supposed to be his subordinate.
"What are you doing, Grimmjow?" he asked dangerously, his eyes gleaming coldly. "Why are you healing an enemy I have already dispatched?" The sixth Espada whirled around towards him, snarling like a cornered wolf, his blue eyes ablaze. He did not reply, but unsheathed his silver katana and shot forward, intent on skewering the pallid Arrancar who had interrupted him. Ulquiorra leaped back into the cyan sky with him, blocking the argent blade with a simple thrust of his palm.
But Grimmjow grabbed the fourth Espada's other wrist with his free hand and wrenched it around behind him; Ulquiorra's eyes widened in shock as the edge of the blade was brought against his throat. But before he had a chance to react, the cerulean-haired Arrancar brought something small and black to his hand and shoved it near the fourth Espada's neck—directly over the dark hole just beneath his collarbone.
The fourth Espada knew then that it was too late to struggle, but his muscles seemed to tense of their own accord as the ebony cube entered within. Black ribbons of energy encased him, completely restricting his movement. It was pointless to resist, he knew, but as his viridian gaze found Orihime's inside the tower, he fought nonetheless to remain in the dimension where she was…
It didn't make a difference, as he already knew it wouldn't; he was already half-gone from Hueco Mundo, and while he knew he could make his way back, he didn't know if she would still be there when he returned…
"Damn," he swore quietly as the box enveloped him, and he relaxed at last, knowing both the familiarity of the icy chill and pressing darkness that closed in around him as if they had been memories from a past life.
He fell as if through the deepest ocean, neither upward breeze nor sights around him telling of his plummet, and yet he knew, as if instinctively, that he would reach the bottom at some point, though he knew not when. It was peaceful enough here, though the cold was chilling to the marrow, and to his astonishment he could not call forth any of his energy to light the abyss around him.
And then all at once he reached the end of his fall through the darkness, his body landing on some hard surface. He suppressed a grimace. It hurt, though he had taken far worse injury in his own dimension and not felt any discomfort. But there he had had a thick layer of spirit energy to lessen his fall, while here he was completely powerless. He lay there and waited for the worst of the lancing pain to pass before opening his eyes.
Ulquiorra studied carefully the rough-hewn black stone beneath his stark white fingers as the savage aches in his body dissolved into vague soreness. Then he lifted his head from the floor and looked around, finding a wall of velvety blackness all around him, as though he alone were caught in an orb of glowing light. It occurred to him that anything could be beyond that veil, watching him at that very moment, but the Espada could not sense anything nearby—or had he merely been robbed of that ability as well?
No…
They were there, so very far away—thousands upon thousands of Hollows, their combined presences like a pinprick in a very great distance. But there was something else as well; the faintest of auras caught within the maelstrom of the others. He might have missed it, save for one obvious difference. While the others were sharp and arctic, it was warm and hauntingly familiar.
"Orihime," he murmured, throwing himself to his feet and walking forward unhesitatingly towards the invisible star in the night. He remembered as if waking up the situation she was in, and the reason he had come to be trapped here. Whatever happened, he had to get back. Ulquiorra took three quick steps over the flat ground beneath him before his foot met open space; he lost his balance and fell, holding his breath against the cold sharp stone that battered his frame on the way down.
At last he reached level ground, exhaling in a sudden burst as he lay splayed out on the hard surface. There was a sound all around him, like the quiet echoes of ghostly laughter issuing from the veil.
He didn't see what was so funny. This spill hurt even worse than the first one had.
After a while, the Espada stretched out a hand beside him—he at least wanted to know what it was he'd fallen down. His fingers met a hard surface perpendicular to the ground beneath him, the digits traveling upward before leveling out again a few inches after. A stair, he supposed. He'd just finished tumbling down a staircase—how reckless, fumbling around in the dark. He got to his feet again, and searched for the warm aura; found it still ahead of him…
And then the room shifted.
He was thrown backwards along the staircase he'd just finished falling down, and felt nothing beneath him for a split-second before landing hard against what he imagined must have once been a wall. This time, the aura was high above him, out of reach. He closed his eyes, listening numbly to the reverberations of half-uttered voices beyond the line of his sight. As if the room hadn't been hard enough to navigate—how did he know that the ground wouldn't fly out from under him again when he got up? This was a device meant to punish his kind. He sighed—how was he ever supposed to get out when he could neither see nor use his abilities? It seemed hopeless…
But Orihime was there, the pathway above would lead him to her…
She might be in trouble.
Ulquiorra got up determinedly, ignoring the stabbing pain in his back and ribs, and started for the staircase he'd fallen off of twice now, reaching up for the first step and hauling himself over before scrambling up the stairs. He met the hard surface of what had once been the floor at the top, and felt for any handhold, hoping that the room didn't move again. His hand ran along what must have been the beginning of another staircase.
Again, he pulled himself up, and scrambled up the stairs, glad when he met not a wall, but flat surface. He started forward—just as the room shifted back to its original position.
Ulquiorra fell onto another flat surface far below him, wincing audibly at the impact. Pain and exhaustion washed over him, and he supposed he had fallen a great distance judging by the odd changes in his vision. It occurred to him that he shouldn't be this tired. His eyelids fluttered once, his gaze traveling along oddly bright lines of light scattered over the rough black stone floor, before closing…
Unexpected—he hadn't been able to see that far ahead until now…
She had been reunited with the ryoka, despite everything he had done to prevent it. He had believed that the shinigami would not make it even that far. But she was trapped in Hueco Mundo anyway, with all of her friends… and if Aizen-sama found them together…
He had to go back before that happened…
Ulquiorra sat up abruptly, again determined. There was a shaft of light emanating from a crack in the wall in front of him. Its rays dimly illuminated the room—it was a vast chamber of winding staircases, he observed, some carved into the ceiling, the walls, and all around him on the floor. He searched wildly for an exit of some sort, but found nothing.
Nothing but the shaft of light beyond which lay that warm aura.
He drew his sword, knowing his hands to be useless in a place like this, and drove it viciously into the fracture, which crumbled and widened where the sword's venom spread across it. And just as the room shifted again, he clambered through, collapsing on the hard packed earth of an open listless landscape. A great weight seemed to lift from his shoulders, and he rose, sheathing his zanpakouto as the empty wind lapped around him.
Then he ran forward, blurring in and out of existence as the distance closed between himself and Hueco Mundo.
Orihime stood watching, speechless; Grimmjow Jeagerjaques fell to his knees, blood pouring down his front. The cerulean eyes glared hatefully at his foe; but Ichigo only turned around, looked up at the girl standing on the top of a scarlet pillar. His golden eyes twinkled happily; because after everything he and his friends had been through, they could finally go home. Orihime looked back in relief and guilt, not quite smiling, but glad all the same because her dearest friend stood below her, grinning widely up at her.
But then an ominous presence overshadowed them, an aura as icy and sharp as a winter blizzard, angry and wicked.
Suddenly the scene dissolved in a blur of color and sound. Someone had their arms around her, and in the distance she heard Ichigo's voice shouting his dismay.
"Inoue!"
She leaned against the fourth Espada, feeling black hair brush against her forehead. His green eyes lay cold and focused on the castle in the distance, every ounce of power he possessed centered on the speed of their arrival there. He flew like a falcon over the ground below, red columns and sand dunes sliding swiftly below them. Orihime trained her eyes where his rested—in the chasm of debris from where she and Grimmjow had come. While she felt safe in Ulquiorra's arms, there was a cold weight of dread where her heart would usually leap. She listened hard; there was a rushing noise behind them, sharp and keening as the sound of a blade loosed from its sheath. She didn't have to look to know who it was—the spiritual pressure was familiar enough.
They reached the shadowed cavern created in the wall, his enemy's sandaled feet tapping gracefully on the dusty marble floor, just as Ichigo barreled inside, stopping short when he realized that the fourth Espada still carried the redhead in his arms. The two of them lay swathed in shadow, the pallor of the lean man's skin darkened, but his green eyes gleamed bright and dangerous, like twin viridian stars. Orihime stared at Ichigo apprehensively, her arm draped lightly over the dark-haired Hollow's shoulder. Ichigo caught the expression of calm on her face—she didn't seem to be afraid at all; more frightened, it seemed, at the prospect of further battle than anything else. He peered at the pair of them, puzzled, knowing something was wrong. But it didn't matter… everyone would all go home together—the shinigami knew Orihime would be in danger if she stayed in Hueco Mundo any longer. She was already in danger, even if she didn't know it herself—what would the pale Arrancar do?
"Let her go," demanded Ichigo, his voice still tainted by his own Hollow's influence. "Now!" Hichigo raged beneath the surface, staining the whites of his eyes black, and his usually dark irises golden yellow. But he kept enough of himself in him to know that if he tried to strike, the Arrancar might hurt Orihime. His thin black blade twitched once, menacingly, his gaze darting from Orihime to the expressionless face of the Espada.
The pale man walked forward into the waxen shafts of light emanating from the fractures in the ruined ceiling, slowly, his face devoid of emotion. Yet there was a certain calmness that defied explanation; it hadn't been there before, when they had been fighting. Ichigo had sensed that the Espada was angry then; so what had brought about the apparent change?
Inoue…?
"Are you really so worried for her?" the gelid man murmured quietly, his lips barely forming the words, as if he were talking more to himself than the one who stood before him. It took Ichigo aback, his eyes widened in astonishment—what kind of question was that coming from one of Aizen's followers? The same man who had shown no hesitation in nearly killing him only hours before was now asking him about his feelings towards one of his closest friends—holding her in his arms, markedly carefully.
"I said, 'let her go'," Ichigo repeated loudly, the sound in his tone mirroring his puzzlement. But the fury in his voice was unmistakable. Ulquiorra blinked once, mechanically, and tilted his head lazily to the side. He kept his movements purposefully lethargic, knowing it would anger the shinigami even more.
"You seem uncertain."
"I came here to rescue her," said the shinigami, more boldly, catching the satisfied flash in the Arrancar's eyes. "I'm not leaving without her. If you're going to stand in my way, then I don't have any choice." He pointed the blade at the face of the Espada, who seemed nonplussed by the gesture. Ichigo watched as the barest hint of a sneer played across Ulquiorra's features. Then the Espada gently released Orihime, who still stood beside him, holding his arm as if it would keep him from leaping forward and slashing Ichigo to ribbons.
It did.
The pale man looked down at her quizzically, his expression shifting entirely, at the pleading look on her countenance. She whispered something Ichigo couldn't hear, but the Espada only closed his eyes in resolution. The exchange was so odd, and yet there was something very familiar about it—how many enemies had watched this same exchange pass between Ichigo Kurosaki and Orihime Inoue? The shinigami gritted his teeth; what exactly had been going on?
What have they done with you, Inoue?
Then, as if by silent consent, the two of them parted. Orihime walked to the back of the room, and with a miserable expression on her face conjured her gleaming orange triangular shield. No sooner had she done so than Ichigo felt the immediate shift in Ulquiorra's demeanor. While his spiritual pressure had once been restrained the point of nonexistence, it now flowed in effortless waves around the shinigami, striking and piercing wherever it sensed weakness—the force of it was like ever-sharpening steel blades on Ichigo's thick layer of reiatsu. But the shinigami's barrier held, despite his injuries, and yet he could sense that the Arrancar was holding back.
Why…?
Ichigo took his chance. With a wide swing and a dash forward, he struck out at the Espada, and heard Orihime's cry of dismay. But the pale man merely blocked the obsidian katana with a quick thrust of his hand, and with a sudden twist wrenched it sideways. Zangetsu faltered in the shinigami's hand, but Ichigo held it fast. Ulquiorra's slit-pupiled eyes were fixed unblinkingly on his, the air between the two foes glowing a venomous green. And suddenly the shinigami felt a searing pain cross his midsection—the Espada's free hand pressed a thick orb of unreleased Cero against his chest. The shinigami ripped Zangetsu from Ulquiorra's iron grasp and swerved away just before an explosion rent the floor where he had once stood. Beyond, Ichigo could see Orihime knelt behind her shield, her hands cupped over her mouth.
He turned on his heel, racing behind the stoic figure of his enemy and swung wide. A dark scythe of black energy sliced through the air, aiming to hit the Hollow at point blank range; but just in time, he whirled, spear-hands outstretched to catch the blast. The heels of Ulquiorra's black-sandaled feet dug deeply into the already ruined marble floor—but Ichigo had leaped again, swung wide and his sword emitted yet another black scythe. He saw the green eyes widen in astonishment, and then narrow in anger, just as the second dark half-moon shrouded the Arrancar from view. He counted the seconds after the attack, willing his enemy's demise.
Distantly, Ichigo heard Orihime give a strangled yell…
And then, the pale figure shot from the back of the obsidian crescent, his white coat shredded and his hands outstretched—Ichigo gazed on in blank astonishment as his black half-moon dissolved in a chaotic mass of fading dark tendrils. The Hollow dove forward, slashing with his hands while Ichigo fought to block each successive blow. Their strikes and parries made the sound of two blades striking one another time and time again; each time Ichigo blocked, the faster his silent attacker stabbed and slashed—until Ulquiorra grasped Zangetsu's edge in both of his pale hands and thrust the shinigami backwards into the wall. Ichigo felt it crater behind him, his back going numb as the dust flew all around. Despite his will to stay standing, he felt his knees give way beneath him, and knelt on the ground, panting and staring up at his opponent's expressionless face and cold emerald eyes.
It was then that he realized how exhausted he was—having nearly died at the hands of this same Espada, fought Grimmjow Jeagerjaques to the last, and spent so much energy even before these events had tired him so. He had come so far, he raged, how could he stop now with Orihime in his sights? The shinigami struggled to rise to his feet, but found that it was impossible to make his aching legs move even an inch. His torso still burned from the Cero's touch. Ulquiorra had spared him the last time. He looked into the Espada's eyes knowing that his enemy wouldn't give him a second chance. He hung his head, waiting for the finishing blow…
All of this, and he was going to die here, now, when he had come so close…
Pathetic, Hichigo laughed from the back of his mind.
"Pathetic," Ichigo heard his tainted voice echo, "and he hasn't even drawn his sword yet. You really expect to rescue the girl like this? You never even had a chance." He laughed, the sound coming slowly, but slowly growing louder as Hichigo realized that after days—weeks—of waiting, he had finally regained control.
Bright yellow eyes met those of green again, a twisted smile spreading across features that had once seemed human. He rose slowly, as if testing himself after a warm-up. The black blade slid easily out of the pallid Arrancar's loosened palms. Ulquiorra backed away slowly, curious at both the shift in personality and the spike in reiatsu.
"Your name's Ulquiorra right?"Hichigo asked casually, assessing his surroundings. Behind the girl's fiery shield, he could see her eyes frightened and wide. The Hollow gave her a playful sneer before turning back to his foe. "I seem to remember you callin' me—what was it? 'Inconsequential'? Gotta say, that wasn't very nice."
Without warning, Hichigo slashed upward, the black sword lashing out with another more concentrated scythe of energy—Ulquiorra met it with his right hand, and then his left, the force of the blast throwing him backwards against the opposite wall. His body gouged a deep rent in the marble surface before the debris flew up around him. Hichigo's insane laughter filled the chamber as he waited for the dust to settle.
"Ulquiorra!" the girl yelled from behind him, and Hichigo heard the grating sound of metal sliding against a sheath. He stopped laughing abruptly, watching a bar of venomous light pulsing in the cloud of dust floating in the air. Hichigo snarled savagely and Zangetsu rose at his command, loosing another set of dark crescent moons into the debris, one after the other—and watched as the glowing blade sliced every last one into two pieces. They exploded, never having reached their destination, flooding the chamber with more wreckage. Some of it fizzled and spluttered as it bounced off of the girl's shield.
Ulquiorra walked slowly from the mist of dust, his surcoat in tatters on his sleek build, but his blade glistening vibrantly, long and wickedly curved. It was stained and dripping in not only a poisonous pale green, but in familiar reddish black as well—residue from Hichigo's attack. Along the edge of the blade, the paler color seemed to overtake the darker hue, as if the katana were absorbing it. With a swift flick of his wrist, the Espada gave the sword a succinct mechanical spin, his face expressionless, but his eyes set coldly on those of gleaming yellow. The hand that held the unsheathed zanpakouto was bleeding, the other sporting a raw, red streak across its palm.
"Not bad, not bad," remarked Hichigo, but he did not smile. "You're a bit more interesting than the other idiots we been up against, for sure." Ulquiorra did not respond to the remark, but the tip of his blade rose incrementally, poised for attack or defense. Hichigo noted the unpredictability of his foe—neither eyes nor blank face gave any hint as to what the Espada's next move might be.
Hichigo was the first to strike once again, yelling incoherently; but this time Ulquiorra dashed forward as well. Zangetsu met the glowing katana again and again in incandescent spirals of white-hot sparks; but the edge of the obsidian blade was beginning to pale and dull where it met the Arrancar's sword—as if the zanpakouto's venom were corroding it. Hichigo snarled angrily and leaped back, watching as his weapon slowly resumed its normal ebony hue.
"What the—?"
But Ulquiorra was already slashing at the Hollow with wide arcs of his venomous blade in one hand, and with the other stabbing wherever he saw an opening. The two of them spun and danced around the ruin of the chamber, blurring in and out to evade, but always returning in a violent waltz of feints, thrusts, and parries. Ichigo's Hollow tried on numerous occasions to throw more dark energy, but Ulquiorra was simply too fast to allow such a wide swing. He wove in and out of Hichigo's angry swings, his hand slashing viper-like while the blade in his other hand stopped any counterattacks.
Finally, the fiery-haired man grimaced as the pallid fingers strafed his shoulder, barely managing to block the following arc of poisonous green with Zangetsu. Hichigo struggled to escape, to allow the rapidly graying katana more time to resume its normal color; but the Espada pushed forward, keeping the blades interlocked, until a tiny crack formed in the edge of Hichigo's sword where they met. The shinigami gritted his teeth, willing his weapon to stay together. His own dark energy ran up and down its length, black flames lapping at the venomous blade that struggled to cleave it in two.
Ulquiorra's weapon dug in further, the venom running along its length coalescing around the fracture and crawling up the dark edge, until the shinigami's zanpakouto was completely covered in it.
Zangetsu was quickly turning a sickly grayish-green—again Hichigo dashed backwards, throwing dark crescents wildly as he retreated, more to throw off the venom than anything else. Ulquiorra evaded most of the blasts of dark energy—the others he swiftly cut to allow himself passage.
It took noticeably longer for the black zanpakouto to return to normal, Hichigo noticed. He hated to think what would happen if Ulquiorra actually landed a blow with that sword. The yellow-eyed Hollow held his bleeding shoulder with a free hand.
His fingers hurt bad enough…
"Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime cried; panicking as she realized Ichigo had been hurt. Something had gone terribly wrong—the shinigami was acting so strangely, it scared her. And yet he had become more powerful—strong enough to contend with Ulquiorra. And the Espada was wounded too, she realized, looking at the thin rivulet of scarlet staining the green-bound hilt of his sword. If the fight didn't end soon, one of them would…
How can I stop this before that happens?
"This is terrible," Orihime murmured miserably, her face wet with tears, watching Ulquiorra's grim visage and the furious countenance of her friend. Both were determined, neither willing to back down. It was the very last thing she had wanted to happen—but a situation that was unavoidable given her circumstances.
"What can I do?"
If she could only distract them… but it would only stop them for a moment—they would be at each other's throats again soon after. She didn't know what it would accomplish, but she knew she had to do something—anything—to get them to stop fighting. She searched desperately for the flame spirit, knowing that he could get their attention—hoping that he would answer her at last.
Tsubaki, please…
The tiniest of acknowledgements entered her mind, and Orihime gasped in relief and surprise. At the last moment, when she needed him most—he appeared before her. But there was little time to celebrate—Ichigo and Ulquiorra were eying one another, each with an intent to kill.
"Koten Zanshun," she began quietly, her triangular barrier lifting…
Just as the two opposing warriors flew at each other, she released the fire demon…
"I reject!" she cried, her hands outstretched in front of her. She watched as the wall of orange flame shot between them; both surprised opponents veering off to avoid the sudden blast. Orihime saw two pairs of eyes meet hers in the following silence—amber and emerald green.
Ulquiorra stared at her, his lips parted in surprise, and despite herself and the situation she was in, she found her mouth nearly forming a sheepish half-smile.
Then Ichigo fell to his knees, Zangetsu dropping to the floor, still held loosely in the shinigami's grasp. His muscled frame trembled, his reiatsu fluctuating wildly—as if he struggled with something within himself.
Orihime started towards him anxiously, but in another split-second, Ulquiorra's pale hand was clamped around Ichigo's neck. The frozen shinigami's feet lifted slowly off the ground as the Espada held him higher, and Orihime's eyes widened in terror as Ulquiorra held his poisoned blade millimeters from Ichigo's throat. He had taken his chance.
"Stop!" she cried, running forward. Her hands flew around Ulquiorra's arm, and the Espada stilled at once, his aura of spiritual pressure falling.
His viridian eyes found hers at last, and the venomous blade fell away from the shinigami's neck. Orihime's blue-gray orbs glimmered, glassy and pleading, her pale face streaked with tears. The Espada released Ichigo, who staggered back, about to fall; and in an instant, Orihime was at the shinigami's side…
Hichigo grinned as he regained his balance, Zangetsu lashing out again.
"No!"
The scythe of black energy struck Ulquiorra hard across his midsection—he fell back, rolling across the debris-covered floor before coming to rest meters away. Orihime tried to run for him, but felt Ichigo's arms hold her back. She struggled and fought, but the shinigami's grip was vice-like. Was it Ichigo, or the thing she had seen fighting Ulquiorra?
Get up…
But he lay on his side, unmoving, his back towards her. She struggled again, wanting to help him; to be sure he was all right.
"Inoue," she heard a familiar voice and froze, tore her eyes away from the fallen Arrancar as the shinigami turned her around slowly, and enveloped her in a warm embrace. "I'm so glad you're all right." Orihime stiffened uncomfortably in his arms; they were so different from Ulquiorra's—rough and strong where the Espada's were gentle but firm. Ichigo took her hand in his, and strode towards the open door at the back that would take them further inside Las Noches. Orihime stood still and looked around, her eyes meeting those of sudden emerald green worlds away in the settling dust.
The Espada lifted himself slowly from the ruined marble, his hand covering his pallid chest, yet his attention was not on Ichigo, but on the human girl instead. She looked at him numbly for a long moment, watching his soft eyes for some hint of what he was thinking, but his face was expressionless and gelid as it always was. She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come; she wished he would say anything, but knew that he would not. Orihime felt another pliant tug on her hand and stepped back once.
She remembered the days they had spent together, the mock-fights in the prismatic oasis, the night at the party, the many times he had kept her safe… the kiss they had shared in her world… It crossed her mind that her friends were trying so hard to take her home, but Ulquiorra had already brought her there twice… and now he seemed so confused, as if he didn't understand a thing…
She hadn't wanted to say goodbye like this…
She hadn't wanted to say goodbye at all…
I wanted to stay with you…
"Inoue, we have to go," Ichigo said from behind her, his voice still tainted by his Hollow, but his reiatsu stabilizing. "They'll find us if we stay any longer. We've got to get everyone out of here."
And he was right—once they were captured, her friends would be killed—and she would be soon after her task was completed. The Hogyoku—she had realized that she could destroy it… but had believed that if she did, those Aizen had turned with it would be brought back to their original states. The traitorous shinigami would be without his minions to command. Her eyes burned with tears.
But Ulquiorra wouldn't be himself anymore.
If she stayed, the only choice she would have would be to either accede to Aizen's wishes, or to unmake the Orb altogether. If presented with the task, she knew she could only choose one thing. If she stayed, she would be forced to make that decision now—end the war her friends would have to fight, but lose the one she loved forever.
I couldn't… do something like that to you…
With that thought firmly in mind, she closed her eyes determinedly and turned away; followed Ichigo down the hall, not caring where he might lead her, not even caring to look beyond the soft steps of her own black-sandaled feet. Her hand still lay in his warm grasp, but she made no effort to hold it in hers.
They raced across the desert sands, Orihime reunited with her friends. She ran alongside Uryuu and Chad, Ichigo still holding her hand. She spoke to no one, as no one spoke to her; they were too busy scouting for potential enemies. It seemed odd, she thought vaguely, that no one was following them. But she was too tired and miserable to care; tears still caught at the corners of her eyes, but she forced them back in present company. Still, she knew that they could see something was wrong—Uryuu kept throwing worried glances at her, and she found that she couldn't even answer them with any reassuring gesture.
It was still so hard to believe that she was leaving. The human girl looked over her shoulder, at the castle that had been her home for many many days, and at the damaged edge of the complex, where she knew a certain pale Espada rested.
Ulquiorra… Please forgive me…
They were soon joined by a red-haired shinigami, his tattooed visage grim and bloodied, though he showed no sign of being in pain. Abarai Renji, Orihime remembered—he nodded at her sullenly, and she nodded back automatically. He carried a small dark-haired woman in his arms—Kuchiki-san. Rukia looked at her with bright eyes, though she kept a hand over her midsection, bandaged underneath her robes.
The group of six ran nonstop, the sky above cast in a blood-red sunset. It colored the dunes ahead of them a vivid crimson, but behind, they were washed in a deep amethyst-blue. The first radiant glimpse of the moon gleamed over the castle behind her. Orihime wiped a stray hot tear from her cheek irritably, hoping no one had noticed.
"Is something a little off to you guys, or what?" Renji broke the held silence, interrupted only by their padding footsteps on the soft sand. "We fought real hard to get into that place, but now that we're leaving, there ain't anybody here."
"Doesn't bother me," Uryuu remarked, but there was a trace of uneasiness in his tone nonetheless.
"Itsygo!" a distant, high-pitched voice cried suddenly. "Itsygo! Wait for meeeee!" In unison, the party stopped, Ichigo finally releasing Orihime's hand. A few meters away, a small dust cloud was following them, and when it neared, the human girl could make out a small puff of greenish hair before a familiar tiny Arrancar bowled over the orange-haired shinigami, crying and yelling raucously. Ichigo squirmed on the ground, trying without success to throw her off. "You lef' Nel all alooonnne! Why'd ya do dat, Itsygo? That was sooo mean of you! I was lookin' for you for a long time an' then—"
"Nel! Why are you out here following us?" interrupted Ichigo, irritably. The tiny Arrancar sniffed once and smiled, seated squarely on the shinigami's chest.
"I was gonna tell ya, the gates is sealed," she said happily. Everyone stared at her, dumbfounded, while the cold dry breeze blew around them. The sun was quickly falling, and no one was looking forward to spending another night in the frigid desert.
"That'd explain a few things," Renji commented.
"How do you know that?" Ichigo asked.
"Ummmm… I heards it fum somebodies I know?" Her mouth spread in a sheepish grin, laughing hesitantly.
Ichigo raised an eyebrow.
"What are we supposed to do now?" Uryuu said, pressing his glasses up against his nose. The party was silent, each one staring warily back at the castle; save for Orihime, who sat at the edge of the group on the top of a small sand dune. Even Nel stayed quiet, apparently in deep thought.
Then she brightened, and grinned happily up at Ichigo.
"I gots a idea!" she said, and everyone looked around at her. "I can open a gate for ya! Only I never 'member havin' done it before… Lessee…" The tiny Hollow closed her eyes tightly, and pressed a finger to either side of her head. And to everyone's utter astonishment, a portal opened. Beyond lay a grassy plain—the edge of Soul Society grounds. Ichigo stared at Nel in surprise, who seemed completely taken aback by her own actions.
"Wow, thanks," he said, scratching his head.
But Nel seemed even more confused than ever.
"Itsygo, I didn'…" she began, but he was already taking Orihime's hand, and the group headed into the fringes of their home at last. "But… okay… goo'bye then, Itsygo! I gots ta find my friendlies!" And with that, the portal closed behind them, and Orihime stepped out underneath the warm sun and clear blue skies of Soul Society.
ZOMG. I both love and hate this chapter. I love it because I got to do a FIGHT SCENE YAY! But I think it's terrible because I separated the two of them... but don't worry. I'm nowhere near finished with this story, so don't throw smelly cheeses at me just yet!
Thank you so much for your awesome reviews! Seriously, you guys give me the encouragement I need to continue. And...
I do love fanart... I might actually draw some myself for this story and post it. XD
Fifty plus reviews in a little over a month! I'm going to go have an icecream sundae!