A/N: I've been asked a question: Do Ulquiorra and Grimmjow have their mask fragments? The answer is no. Grimmjow's sexy jaw and Ulquiorra's shaggy black-haired head are nice and naked! They don't have their hollow holes, either, simply because they aren't hollows in this story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.

Oz

By: Princess Kitty1

Under the Moon

After a long day of working at the bakery, and a long afternoon of cleaning up and preparing for the next morning's customer rush, Orihime walked back to the Shiba house with a smile on her face and a paycheck in her hand. She felt like skipping, but thought that Ulquiorra might take that as her trying to get away from him, or just being mentally ill. "Money, money, money! This is so great!" she cried, waving the envelope in the air. "I'm so glad Mrs. Hopkins decided to pay me at the end of every shift rather than right before I left."

Ulquiorra said nothing in reply, regarding her with a stoic curiosity. Such a simple thing made her this happy? She had been overjoyed when he'd eaten the cupcake she had baked for him, proud as if it had been her own willpower that had prompted him to do so. Personally, he would have found no pleasure in watching someone eat. And having money was a matter of convenience, not joy. Humans were so strange.

Orihime turned to look at Ulquiorra, cheeks flushed, her gray eyes alight. "You know, maybe I should buy myself a new outfit, too. My Earth clothes don't exactly blend in with Oz – at least, not any of the villages we've visited." She tapped her finger against her chin. "Grimmjow, too. If he keeps walking around in his Espada attire, people are going to be afraid of him." Her eyes narrowed suggestively.

"I will not change my clothing, woman," Ulquiorra told her sternly. "Number Six may be your prisoner, but I am not. This uniform is a symbol of dominance."

Orihime wrinkled her nose. "But aren't you hot? The weather is all sorts of humid."

"My body is indifferent to both heat and cold."

She turned her back to him. "Lucky." Once again, a puzzling answer. Didn't most humans enjoy the difference in temperatures, some preferring the winter to the summer and vice-versa? Why would this girl find it to be troublesome? The corner of Ulquiorra's mouth twisted downwards. Maybe she was doing this on purpose, trying to throw him off with her backwards logic. If it were mind games she was looking to play, he could do that. There was no way he would lose to a frail human girl.

The government offices were closed for the night, employees still milling about, making dinner plans with each other. They quieted when Orihime and Ulquiorra passed, offering the girl a tentative smile and wave but moving clear out of the Espada's way. He walked by without sparing them a glance, his gaze locked on Orihime's back as if she would disappear the moment he let her out of his sight.

When they came to the third floor, Yoruichi and Kukaku were sitting together on the sofa, doubled over in laughter, having been reminiscing about their school days. Yoruichi jumped down and went to greet Orihime, rubbing against her legs. "Welcome back! How was the bakery?"

"Oh, I absolutely loved it!" Orihime scooped her up and stroked her glossy fur. "And look, I got paid! Where are Nel and Grimmjow?"

Kukaku stood up and put her hand on her hip. "The shipyard should be closing down soon. Nel left earlier saying she was going to find herself a job, but we haven't seen her since."

Orihime's brow furrowed. "I hope she's alright." She had half a mind to go out and look for her, but Grimmjow seemed to have developed a strange bond with the munchkin; if she were to go missing, he would probably be the first to run off and find her. In the mean time, a bath was in order. She had to get clean and go straight to bed, not wanting to oversleep and be late for her second day of work.

Ulquiorra stood by the hallway, arms crossed, waiting for Orihime to finish her conversing. Then suddenly his gaze flickered towards the end of the corridor, coming to rest upon the figure of a man in a long white coat, a relaxed smile on his face, his eerily empty eyes boring into Ulquiorra's.

Aizen.

…

By the time night had fallen completely, Grimmjow and Nel had both returned, bickering as usual. According to Ganju, she had shown up at the shipyard, quickly captivating the working men before distracting Grimmjow by making faces at him. It had taken five men to wrestle him onto the ground after he'd tried to fire a cero at the munchkin, and a number of scoldings later, he'd done his best to ignore her. Orihime made sure that Nel knew how disappointed she was. "You promised me you were going to stay out of trouble!" she said as they soaked in the outdoor bath.

"Sorry. I saw his butt-ugly face and couldn't help myself," Nel replied, though the smile on her face was anything but apologetic.

"I heard that, you buck-toothed, hag-looking brat!" Grimmjow yelled from the other side of the dividing wall.

Ulquiorra, who stood with his back against it, looked at his sulking former partner. "I do not understand why you let that girl push you around," he said quietly enough for just Grimmjow to hear. "You could easily tear the head off of her shoulders."

Grimmjow frowned. "And here I thought that you of all people would know why I would never do that." He leaned back against the edge of the bath, staring up at the almost full moon. "I may only be half human, but the beating heart in my chest remembers what my mind can't."

"What an absurd notion. The heart is not capable of storing memories."

"If you had one, you would understand."

Ulquiorra's muscles tensed. Was that pity he had just heard in Grimmjow's voice? He would rather be destroyed by Oz's generals than have this simpleton pity him. But hadn't that woman said the same thing? "That's kind of sad. I feel bad for you…" There was no reason to feel bad. Ulquiorra didn't care one way or the other. But did that callousness stem from his lack of a heart? Was having one really so important?

Instinctively, he reached up and placed his hand over his chest. Nothing. No beat, no thrum of life, nothing to pump the blood that moved through his body of its own accord. Certainly, had he pierced the flesh there he would find a hole where the heart should have been, a hole that he had never felt until now. Vacant, empty, dark.

"Ulquiorra-san?"

He looked up and saw Orihime standing by the door. His hand dropped to his side. "You are finished?" She nodded, clutching her towel and day clothes against her body. He joined her without another word, forcing away the troubling thoughts that had surfaced so suddenly. Mind games. They were just trying to confuse him.

Orihime noticed that Ulquiorra wasn't walking ahead of her as he usually did, so she slowed her pace and fell into step beside him, wondering what he was thinking about. When she'd seen him a moment ago in the bath house, he had almost looked worried. But that was gone, now, replaced by an impassive mask, a face devoid of emotion, like the sand-colored houses she had seen in New Mexico that had struck up an intense desire to throw a can of radioactive orange paint on them. "Needs color," she muttered.

Ulquiorra looked down at her. "What?"

"Nothing!" She quickly stared down at her feet. "I was just thinking about… never mind."

"You will tell me what you said," he ordered.

Orihime's cheeks were heating rapidly. "It's, uh… the desert. The one that I was driving through before I got to Oz. It was just filled with these awful, peach and tan houses. I mean, I get that they're trying to blend it into the landscape, probably to keep from scaring the wildlife out of their natural habitat, but it was in desperate need of some color! I mean, if I lived there…" she said, getting a little excited as her mouth ran ahead of her mind. Then she stopped herself, aware of the fact that Ulquiorra was now staring ahead, probably having tuned her out somewhere near the beginning of her rant. "And, uh… yeah. That's it." No response. She sighed, pushing her hair out of her face. She'd made a fool of herself again.

A half-hour later, she was climbing into bed, settling under the sheets as Ulquiorra stared out the window at the moon. She laid her head on the pillow, her back to him, trying to recall everything she had learned at the bakery to keep fresh in her mind. Her eyelids were getting heavier, and she feared that she would drift off before remembering the temperature that the frosting was supposed to cool at.

"Woman,"

"Hmm?" she mumbled sleepily, thinking that she was already dreaming.

"If you lived in the desert, what color would you paint your house?"

Orihime stopped trying to keep her eyes open, her thoughts swimming. "Uh… green, I think," she murmured. "But not just any green, like lime green or puke green; a real nice, bright green. Like Ulquiorra-san's eyes… like a lush, tropical forest in the middle of the desert. That would be nice…"

Ulquiorra stared at her back, perfectly still. After a few minutes, her breathing evened out. He counted off half an hour before he was sure that she was in too deep a sleep cycle to be awakened by sound, then stood up and made his way to the door. Green like his eyes? She wished to be reminded of him? What lunacy. She obviously wasn't right in the head, but the answer stayed with him nonetheless.

…

Being stuck in cat form, Yoruichi was a slave to this body's strange habits. She left the house at night to prowl, compelled to hunt, though she never actually killed anything she caught. Her golden eyes followed the bright moon, her feet carrying her further into the forest as her mind went over everything Kukaku had told her. The war had been fought long and hard. The people of Oz were tired, looking to the wizard for guidance, but that idiot had put all of his faith into the Promised Child. How would he react when he found out that Orihime wasn't cut out for war, physically or mentally?

Yoruichi sighed, truly afraid for the future of this world. Serving a power-crazed warlock wasn't her idea of an awesome career. And if all of the humans lacking in magical potential were going to be killed...

Her thoughts were abruptly silenced. The cat's nocturnal vision picked up the sight of a body standing just ahead, a tall and familiar outline that disappeared the moment she laid eyes on it. She rushed forward, chasing the apparition as intently as she would a rodent, her heart pounding in her ears. There was no way…

Yoruichi emerged into a clearing bathed in moonlight, panting. The figure stood in the center, no longer running, but waiting patiently for her to catch her breath. "You," she whispered, taking a number of hesitant steps forward.

"General Yoruichi Shihoin… I expected a human." Playful, yet laced with irritation.

"That wasn't fair," she growled. "You gave me that potion with no warning on purpose. What right do you have to test me?"

A long index finger wagged at her. "I have every right to test you, as you are my subordinate. And look, you've disappointed me. It breaks my heart, Yoruichi. Truly, it does." The figure approached her, stopping close enough to reach out with a long stick and lightly tap her forehead. Yoruichi gasped as her cat body shook violently, bones snapping and changing until she was left human and naked in the grass. "Your indecision," the figure crouched, two twinkling eyes narrowed at her, "it annoys me."

"Don't act like you're any better, you womanizing scum," she spat with half-hearted hatred. Rough fingers gently touched her neck, moving downwards, settling over her fluttering heart.

"And to think I had the bad sense to miss you all of these years," a voice whispered in her ear.

Yoruichi let out a soft purr. "Kisuke…"

"I have come here to deliver two messages, as I am needed back at the Emerald City by morning. The first is to keep up your guard; Aizen's forces have been gathering at the foot of Mount Oz. It appears he will be making a move soon. And the second, my precious little housecat, is simple: choose."

Then his touch, his presence, and her human form were gone. Yoruichi stood on four shaking legs in the middle of the clearing, and after a moment of silence, she cried out in frustration.

She would rather take on Aizen alone than ever have to choose.

…

Ulquiorra heard Yoruichi's cry but didn't go off to investigate. Nothing could deter him from his current mission. Upon seeing Aizen in the hallway that evening, he had understood the message clearly: he had a meeting to attend. To his knowledge, he hadn't done anything worth reprimanding, so the warlock was probably just looking for a progress report.

Five miles from the Shiba house, Sousuke Aizen reclined on a throne-like chair in a small clearing, enjoying the distant view of Lake Oz's sparkling waters. He said nothing as Ulquiorra approached and bowed respectfully on one knee. "You summoned me, Master?"

"Indeed." Aizen stroked his chin, as if wondering how to go about saying what he had to, though Ulquiorra knew that his creator always knew exactly how he would articulate his thoughts. "Earlier today, I decided to take a peek through the crystal ball and see how you were doing. Imagine my surprise! The fourth of command in my elite, private army enjoying a sugary treat? Not that there's anything wrong with that." His smile widened. "Did you enjoy it?"

"It was not terrible," Ulquiorra answered without hesitation.

Aizen stood up, pacing. "The thing is, Ulquiorra, that the Promised Child has become rather comfortable with you," he continued. "This is good news. After all, you are my personal representative, and I am letting her travel through my future world relatively unopposed." He stopped, admiring the moon for a moment. "Do me a favor, would you? Be kind to the girl. Friendly, if you will. Let her give you her absolute trust, as it will in turn lead her to trust me."

Ulquiorra bowed his head further. "Yes Master."

"Furthermore," he pointed to the moon, "in a few days, it will be full. When that time is upon us, I will be meeting with the Promised Child myself. Be ready to bring her to me."

Ulquiorra nodded, standing as Aizen turned and melted into the very night. He began his trek back to the house, his mind empty of all stray thoughts. Aizen was counting on him. There was no time to doubt himself. He had a mission to fulfill.

But as he neared the three-story building, he noticed Grimmjow standing by the back entrance, hands in his pockets. Ulquiorra ignored him, determined to get back to the room before Orihime woke up for whatever reason and alerted the entire house to his absence. An interrogation from the cat and the one-armed woman would not go over well, though it had sounded like the cat was having problems of her own.

Grimmjow looked up at Ulquiorra as he walked past him. "Hey," he said, though his superior in command did not pause, "if you lay a finger on Orihime, I'll break your freaking head open."

Ulquiorra said nothing. He hadn't been ordered to harm the girl, therefore, he would not. In fact, he would cut off his own arm before even considering it. Aizen was not to be disobeyed; the Promised Child was safe… for now.

To Be Continued