Okay so the italics at the end, those are what's written in the note.



No-one thought anything of Ichigo's absence.

Not the first day he was gone.

Nor the second.

It was not until the week was out that people began to ask questions. it was a testament to the quiet, broken man he had become, the fact that no-one noticed the absence of a man who had once been the sun they revolved around. The teacher said something about a note, an excuse for a leave of absence but Uryuu would have bet anything that it was forged. Naturally he, Ulquiorra, Orihime and Sado were the next target of questions. For a day they endured the endless theories, the eyes that scanned their faces for any sort of confirmation. Orihime made the mistake of blinking once and suddenly three people were convinced that Ichigo was on a polar expedition.

But that only lasted a day.

Orihime didn't see who came and for that she was glad. She didn't know if it was one or many, but the Shinigami came and with them the memories vanished. They didn't dare step into her house, it wouldn't have done them any good, but all during the school day, people didn't ask questions. Someone sat at Ichigo's desk. The day went on. Shinigami had come and though they had not erased Ichigo from his classmates memories, they had done something so the image of the once vibrant orange haired man was in the back of their minds. Orihime had been distracted the entire day, her eyes darting to the window, half expecting to see the outline of a Shinigami.

But she didn't see anything.

No Rukia, no Byakuya, no Renji. No-one. She didn't feel any Spiritual Power, she felt nothing and that was the most troubling thing of all. She knew they had been there and yet she hadn't felt them. Maybe it had been a lower ranking member of the Gotei 13, maybe it had been someone she didn't know. The thought didn't comfort her at all. It was so strange that the people she had once cared so much about would come and go without even acknowledging her. Ulquiorra had been there on time, for that she was thankful. If he had been late her mind would have jumped to the conclusion that he too was gone. But he was there, already sitting at his desk, eating something, clearly having been affected by the Spiritual Power that had been in the world.

If people thought it was strange that Uryuu, Tatsuki and Sado sat closer to the two of them, they didn't say anything. Tatsuki and Uryuu's fledgling relationship was really the only thing they cared about, pretty much every member of the class finding it fascinating that two people as drastically different could find each other. They didn't know about Ulquiorra and Orihime and, if either had anything to say, they never would. To be honest, Orihime didn't know what she would tell them if they ddi find out and asked. What she had with Ulquiorra, she wasn't sure she could tell them.

She wasn't sure she understood it herself.

Tearing her gaze from the window she looked over at him. His eyes were ahead, pen moving along the paper as he took down what the teacher said. Every so often his hand would dip into his desk. He had been sneaking food all day. Orihime felt her eyes sting. He was suffering from the Shinigami's presence, from the influx of Spiritual Power. He didn't belong here. He never would. And yet he had stayed, when everything said that he should go he had stayed. While Ichigo, the one who truly belonged here, he had gone. Maybe Ichigo needed a fight He had been defined as a fighter for so long, maybe it was impossible that he would be able to live without war, without a fight.

When the lunch bell finally rang, she couldn't bring herself to move.

"Orihime."

Orihime didn't move.

"Orihime."

Finally it registered that someone was calling her name. She turned her head to see Ulquiorra looking down at her. Despite the food he had eaten, she could see the paleness on his face. Taking a deep breath, she kept her eyes on his. He didn't bother to ask if she was alright, anyone with eyes could see that was not the case. Instead he stood over her, his deep watching her. Orihime took another deep breath, bracing herself for the sobs she thought she should be crying. But none came. No tears, no hysteria, no 'Kurosaki!' just on the tip of her tongue. She did not feel numb. No, she felt sad. But she did not feel hysterical.

"Why can't I cry?" she asked, looking at Ulquiorra, "I should--I should be sadder. I should--" she stopped, "I should be crying."

"Perhaps you understand that this is something that Kurosaki must do," he told her, "you, better than anyone else."

She looked down. His words made sense, she knew that whatever Ichigo was doing was necessary. But it was more than that. For a long time, she had felt as though Ichigo had never really come back. Like he had vanished along with Rukia on that day. Or maybe it had been before that, maybe back when he had killed Ulquiorra for the first time. But by the time the war was over, no matter what she told herself, a part of her had always known the man next to her was not the one she had loved so deeply. Not really. Not completely. Now that he was gone it was really just the physical shell of the broken man he had become. The real Ichigo Kurosaki might have been out there somewhere, but he wasn't in Karakura Town. Not anymore.

Orihime nodded, slowly standing up. Ulquiorra looked at her carefully. He knew she was struggling, that what had happened had hurt her very deeply. At the very least, he knew what he could do now. So when her eyes lingered on Ichigo's desk, on the strangers pens and pencils and notebooks on top of it, he took a step closer. Just enough so that she could feel the warmth of his gigai. Just enough so she knew that he was there, that she was not alone. And when her hand moved, just a bit, his own was there, the back of his hand brushing against hers. Her hand turned, fingers sliding instantly through his own. He held her hand as she stared at the desk and the man it represented.

"Do you think he'll come back?" Orihime asked.

"Eventually, I believe you will see him again," Ulquiorra said, careful to choose his words.

Despite Urahara's belief that Ichigo was out there, Ulquiorra wasn't quite so sure. It was fathomable that Ichigo was off looking for a way to reclaim his power, a way to go and find Rukia. But it was equally plausible that he was off somewhere new. Trying to make peace with what had happened, with what he had become. Either way, Ulquiorra was sure that Ichgio could have been either alive or dead. Both were within reason. Both would certainly be something he would try. Ulquiorra only knew that Ichigo was not in Karakura Town. And despite telling himself that he was happy for the fact, he could at the very least admit that he found it strange not to see that disgustingly bright orange mop of hair out of the corner of his eye. He doubted he would ever get along with the brash boy, but in some way he found himself wishing that Ichigo Kurosaki would find whatever it was he was looking for.

"I hope so," Orihime said softly, "come on," she said, "lets go."

Ulquiorra nodded as they walked out of the room. It was an overcast day, clouds covering the sun and painting the world a misty sort of grey. People were finding places to eat indoors, places that the rain would not fall on them. They made their way outside anyway, to one of the tables under an edge of the building. Protected by rain, it was already occupied by Sado who was sitting quietly with Uryuu, both eating their food with the effects of the Spiritual Power influx driving them on. Tatsuki was sitting there, watching them with a raised eyebrow. Upon seeing Orihime and Ulquiorra she waved them over.

"Hey!" she said, "looks like its gonna rain, huh?"

"It does," Orihime said looking at the overcast sky.

"So," Tatsuki said finally, "how freakin creepy is it that people aren't asking about Ichigo? Your Soul Society people have some seriously fucked up toys."

"You didn't get your memory altered?" Orihime asked.

"No, uh, I wasn't home when they came."

From the color that stained her cheeks and Uryuu's, Orihime had a very good idea where she had been. She was glad though. She wouldn't want them messing with Tatsuki's memory, especially not now. Ten minutes later, the rain had started to come down, the drops heavy. Orihime's hands paused, still holding her chopsticks, as her eyes watched the rain fall with increasing speed. Soon it was fast. Fast enough that some of the drops began to land on the table.

One by one the others left until it was just her and Ulquiorra. Orihime turned to the rain, watching as the tips of her shoes slowly turned dark with water. The sky seemed to be crying, though her mind could tell her that it was just a reaction to the clouds being so full of water. Orihime took a breath, once more trying to cry and once more finding that she could not. It was just wrong, that she couldn't cry for someone who had done so much for her. Who had meant so much to her. She heard Ulquiorra come around the table, seating himself behind her so his shoulder was just touching between her shoulders. Orihime closed her eyes, trying to focus on the warmth that came from his shoulder.

"I wish I could cry," she said softly, "I feel better after I cry."

"You are not ready, not yet," he said, "when you are, you will move forward. Just as Kurosaki did."

"I want to be ready," she said turning to face him, "I hate being like this. Being stuck. I was stuck for so long--" she shook her head, "I'm just tired of being stuck."

He nodded, knowing that what she was saying was right. Change was inevitable, fighting it was simple foolishness. The world was changing. She had changed as well, even if she could not see it yet. They both had changed, since that meeting when he had stolen her from the world. She bent her head, looking at her hands in front of her. Slowly she raised them. They were steady. She was not trembling or shaking. She lowered her hands once more, her eyes moving back to the rain. She didn't feel numb, not like she had that day weeks ago when she had seen the letter he had left. She just felt sad. Sad that it had to end like this, sad that he had to leave as he did.

"I wish he had let me in," she said finally, "I wish he had known we would be there for him--no matter what."

Ulquiorra looked at her carefully, knowing there was a change she was not simply speaking of Ichigo. Ichigo had been the one who had left and he had not let her in, but the more he thought about it the more he thought a part of that might refer to him. He knew it bothered her, that she did not know anything about him past what she had been told or observed or, in the rare occasions, what he had told her. He knew that when something like that happened, when someone like Ichigo Kurosaki broke and then left, it was bound to continue to affect her.

It was bound to make her think that he would leave.

"I thought you should read this," Orihime said, pulling her bag next to her.

He looked up as Orihime moved her hands through her bag, looking for something. She pulled out a square of paper, folded and creased as if it had been looked at many times. Silently she held it out to him. Ulquiorra reached out, taking the note in his hand. He knew what it was. He had not read the note that Ichigo had left behind, only Urahara had. Orihime looked away as he held the paper in his hands. Slowly he unfolded it, revealing Ichigo's oddly legible handwriting. His eyes moved over the words as his brow furrowed, confused at what he was reading. The words made a strange sort of sense. He read the words again, wishing that they did not make quite as much sense as they did.

He lowered the paper, holding it in his hand before he looked at it one more time, the words already etched in his mind. Carefully he folded the paper along the lines she had already created. The paper was warm in his hand as he held it, his mind moving over the lines. He raised his eye to her. Orihime was looking away, giving him privacy but the moment he moved, her eyes went to him, her lip catching in her teeth. He knew what she was thinking.

He had reasons to go. More than enough. And yet he knew that he would not. Not as long as he was able to fight. Not as long as she was there. She and Uryuu--and Tatsuki, Urahara, Sado, all these people had somehow become his reason to stay. Something his foolish heart had acknowledged long before his head had caught up to the fact. He was going nowhere, not for a good long while. And when he finally did, he was going to carry some part of them with him forever. These people had changed him, they had affected him in a way that people had not been able to in a very long time.

He extended his hand to her. She placed hers in his, picking the note up. Her fingers lingered on his palm before she quickly put the note in her bag, holding it against her chest, her eyes moving to the papers crammed in there. Ulquiorra looked at his hands, the hands of his gigai, very aware that they might be the hands he saw for a long time--even if he knew that his own were really bone white. They hadn't always been. There had been a time when he had been as human as Ichigo, as human as she was. Even if he was not, he did make mistakes. Mistakes that a human would.

"I just thought, you should see it," Orihime said softly, "I think he might have meant it for you."

"The note was meant for you," Ulquiorra told her, "but thank you."

Orihime nodded quickly, swinging one leg over the bench.

"I should get ready for cla--"

She felt silent at the hand that rested on her knee, a silent plea for her to remain. She looked up to see Ulquiorra's features were guarded. He was clearly thinking of something, struggling with what to say. Orihime felt sympathy in her. She wished she knew what to tell him, what she could possibly say. Instead she reached out and covered her hand with his own. Maybe there was nothing to say. Maybe being there, being with the person you cared about, maybe that was enough. Slowly she lowered her bag, her hand remaining over his as she waited for him to speak.

"I was born in a town, just outside Kyoto," he began.

"Ulquiorra--" Orihime began, her heart pounding wildly. He was telling her about what he had been, about who he had been, "you don't have to--I understand if you don't want to talk about this--"

"No," he cut her off, "I do."

Orhime nodded, placing her bag on the ground, turning so she faced him. Her hand remained on his as he began to speak once again.

"I was born in a village outside Kyoto, a very long time ago."

It is in the heart I find my greatest weakness.

It is in the heart I find my greatest strength.

It is in the heart, I find my balance.

It is in my heart.

I finally find

my peace.