And We'll Love, And We'll Hope

by Saerin Veritas

A mysterious intervention on Orihime's part changed the war's dynamic and ending, and it somehow resurrects Ulquiorra in the process. As the two grow closer in the living world, questions still remain, leaving Orihime unstable and confused. UlquiHime.

14. Loneliness Be Over

Author's Note: Once again, I'd like to thank everyone for their love and for sticking with my story. Also thanks to the newer readers who recently caught up. All of your support means a lot to me! :D

Please support my other stories, as well! I recently started on a one-shot collection called Undisclosed Desires. If you have time, please take a look and/or leave a review!

. .

Listen while you read: "Resistance" by High and Mighty Color; "Map of the Problematique" by Muse

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[14] - Loneliness Be Over

- { strength of her own } -

"Ah," the Hollow snickered, his grin evil—drastic in contrast to the gentle features of the face he adorned. "An even stronger reaction to my appearance. Delightful—and all I did was copy these images you have of him."

"Onna," Ulquiorra hissed from behind Orihime. "You must act now." He put a firm hand against her back in an attempt to urge her forward, but she was rendered still, in utter astonishment of seeing her dear big brother standing in front of them.

"Onna," he pressed more urgently.

The Hollow petted his chin-length brown hair, the lips of the familiar face set in a nasty snarl. The once warm eyes were dark, puppeteered by a sinister soul. The enemy seemed to relish the pain in her eyes; in her blanched, shocked face. "You may have the powers of a god, but you are still human," he taunted her, his voice like toxic honey. "Enough for this to affect you."

She told herself she wouldn't fall for stupid tricks; that she was mentally stronger than this... but it was easier said than done.

"Wake up, Orihime!"

Orihime gasped at the yell in her ear, and would have leaped about ten feet in the air if Ulquiorra hadn't been gripping her so desperately. And yet, her mind refused to function, to separate the face in front of her from the true memory of the brother she knew. "Oniisan..." she whispered.

"It is not him," Ulquiorra persisted, his tone hard and sharp. He was getting frustrated with her. "Get that through your head!"

"Orihime," the enemy teased darkly in a sing-song voice. "Let's play!"

A tear made its way down her cheek. "Stop it..." she whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut. "... Stop it..."

"Onna!" Ulquiorra called to her in a scolding, hurried tone. He nudged her firmly. "You are the only one who can fight!"

His words finally getting through, she opened her gray orbs again. I'm the only one—

The Hollow grinned snidely and stepped forward. Her apartment wasn't very big, so every footfall brought the man exponentially closer to the couple.

She put a hand on top of Ulquiorra's. "I'm okay," she murmured.

He dropped his grip at her words, trusting her to do the rest.

"You really are such a pretty girl," the Hollow commented, his eyes tracing over every curve of her body. "I can see why this man would bed you."

Orihime's form stiffened with disgust. Although it wasn't really Sora, the invasive stare and the comment still felt wrong on many levels.

Ulquiorra grew tense as well. "I will not allow you to simplify my woman to a piece of meat," he growled, his tone deadly. His stare narrowed. "That's right... you were the trash who pretended to be me; who dared to touch her when you had no right."

The fake Sora blinked at the outburst, unthreatened. "You're all riled up because I merely kissed her and held her hand." He smiled in a perverse manner. "Cute." With feigned disappointment, he tsked. "But it's really too bad I didn't get to feel inside of her for myself—"

That was all it took to spark an uncontrollable anger in Ulquiorra. Swiftly sidestepping from behind Orihime, he formed a fist with his right hand and used his left to possessively pull her behind him.

"Wait—" she started, her blood running cold.

Without a second thought, he swung.

The fake Sora reached up and easily caught the flying punch, his hand gripped tightly around Ulquiorra's, whose eyes burned with an unrelenting, harsh gaze as he tried to push through. However, holding him back was no effort for the enemy.

"Urukkun!" she cried in fear. A fairy-shaped flare burst out of her pin, prepared to launch.

"Too slow," the Hollow said, almost simultaneously. With a final squeeze, the couple watched in motionless, blanching horror as within seconds, the entirety of Ulquiorra's arm suddenly exploded, every fiber of it vaporizing into nothing. All that remained was a bloody stump, smoke rising out as if it had been on fire.

Ulquiorra cried out, in both surprise and excruciating pain, the sound loud enough to bounce off the walls of her apartment. It wasn't something Orihime has ever heard before, and never wanted to hear again. She felt her heart shatter.

"ULQUIORRA-KUN!"

"What a stupid thing to do," the Hollow commented, watching with morbid, concentrated joy as Ulquiorra's face lowered, contorted. "What can a Plus in a gigai do to me?"

Ulquiorra started to teeter a bit sideways when he tried to step back. Orihime quickly caught his unbalanced frame, protectively holding him against her. She carefully dropped down to her knees, lying Ulquiorra on his side against her lap, the armless side up.

He dug his face into her, waves of scorching pain continuously crashing through him. "Orihime," he whispered, his call for her slurred and weak.

Her heart lurched. Without wasting time, she formed a yellow capsule over the injury. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, stroking his hair.

When her teardrops fell against his head, a pained green eye slowly turned to her. Do not blame yourself, it was saying with reprimand, holding an edge of guilt in them, like he was faulting himself for acting so brash.

She then felt knuckles brush against her bare knee. Startled, she looked down. Ulquiorra's uninjured hand, which had previously been lying motionless on the ground, was stroking her with confidence. "Be strong," her boyfriend murmured in a strained voice.

After silently thanking him with a loving glance, Orihime sucked in a deep breath and shot the unmoving Hollow a defiant glare. "What do you want?" she questioned bravely.

He smirked, entertained by her emerging confidence.

"You burst into the privacy of my home, injured the man I love, and desecrated the image of my brother," she went on, her voice rising. The volume she carried surprised even her. Her tears of anger were mixed with her tears for Ulquiorra's pain. "So, what do you want?"

"I want to consume you," the Hollow said easily. "As you know, I covet your power."

Without a reply to his, she let Tsubaki fly out and charge, but the fairy was quickly deflected as a tentacle (No—tail, she corrected herself when she noticed that it had come out from the Hollows backside) flew out at her.

Orihime closed her eyes in concentration; her mind cleared. It took only seconds for the tail to reach her, but it was still enough time for her to put up a shield in front of her and Ulquiorra. Unlike Ulquiorra and Ichigo's fight back in the Winter War, it didn't shatter. In fact, the appendage bounced violently against it and flew backward at the same trajectory. Unfortunately, he quickly gained control of the tail and swung it away. It collided into the wall, creating a huge dent and heavy cracks.

"Oh? You have a big heart," the Hollow mumbled, squinting at her with thought. "Guess I won't go easy on you. Now I know that you are worth taking."

"You won't have me!"

"Well, in exchange, I can tell you every detail of your war on Hueco Mundo first." He motioned toward some random direction beyond him. "Who else will tell you that, in order for your lover here to appear in Soul Society in a manner that was convenient to you, they would had to have been revived along with your friends—"

"It wasn't out of convenience!" Orihime shouted, offended. "Why would I do something so selfish? How does this make things even?"

But still, Orihime suddenly remembered first seeing Ulquiorra, the strange thread of unmistakable Hollow surrounding him when she reunited with him in Soul Society. "And how...?"

Newly healed, Ulquiorra managed to pull himself to his feet and glare at the Hollow. "Concentrate on what you must do, Orihime," he reminded her, as she stood up, as well. "He is clearly trying to weaken you with his words. The 'how' no longer matters."

"Oh, come now, Espada..." the fake Sora muttered with a wide grin.

"I am not Espada," Ulquiorra declared confidently. "I am practically as human as this woman next to me." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "The one you dare to disrespect."

Orihime's eyes widened.

Ulquiorra-kun... as human as me?

So he has accepted his humanity and his heart, both of which she has given him. Despite the urgency of the situation, she couldn't stop her heart from swelling with pride.

The Hollow's eyes changed to full black. His smile widened literally from ear-to-ear, stretching Sora's face to a disturbing degree. "Little girl, you really are playing with the powers of a god."

Orihime scowled. She wasn't a god. She will never again be a god.

She raised her right hand, her open palm facing the Hollow.

Nothing happened.

She bit her lip, for some reason, unable to move. Why can't I do it? This isn't Onii—

"Onna," Ulquiorra spoke up suddenly. He gently clamped a hand on her outstretched arm, fingers wrapping around her delicate wrist, and then reached his other hand around to cover her eyes. Her back collided softly into his chest.

For a startled second, she resisted, but his grip was firm. "Ulquiorra-kun—"

"Let me be your eyes," he whispered.

Right... she had tried it before, alone, and failed. But now...

"I will inform you of the correct spells," he told her, his tone business-like. "And maneuver you accordingly if he decides to move—"

Just as the words left his lips, the arm that had been against her own flew downward to wrap around her waist, forcing them both to dodge and whirl around.

"Attack straight ahead," Ulquiorra told her. "Now."

"Tsubaki-kun!"

He tsked. "Miss," he reported, and angled them right at around forty-five degrees. "He teleported."

"Do you think this is sufficient?" she heard the Hollow ask. "Don't underestimate me."

Something heavy whipped past their heads with a dense whoosh; Ulquiorra pulled them left to avoid it. "Tail," he whispered curtly. "He has a second one."

"Two tails..." she whispered with a concerned brow.

Orihime was impressed by Ulquiorra. Given no powers due to the rules set by Soul Society, he would have to be rendered useless. It was fascinating to feel him move so swiftly, alert of a fighter as always. He must have trained a lot while she was gone.

"This space is too small," her boyfriend muttered gruffly, undoing her makeshift 'blindfold.' "We must leave."

Before she could question him, Ulquiorra had already grabbed her by the wrist, hastily dragging her as they ran to the door.

"B-But my clothes!" she cried.

"There's no time."

To her fright, two tails, both of similar size and coloring, flew right past them—Ulquiorra was barely able to pull both he and she to the ground.

"Are you trying to escape?" drawled a devilish voice from behind.

The tails proceeded to through her door, causing it to splinter and break off. Orihime screamed, and was granted no time to recover as Ulquiorra stood the two of them up and dragged her through the opening left by the enemy, sneaking past just as the fake Sora pulled them back.

She nearly stumbled down the stairs as Ulquiorra continued to lead her. They didn't even have time to get properly dressed, nor to even put on shoes. She was only clad in Ulquiorra's green button-down dress shirt and her underwear, while he had on nothing but his boxers and the pants he wore that day. Even in the emergency situation, she felt quite exposed, although there was nobody out at this time of night.

"Where is the closest open area?" he asked quietly when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

"A park," she replied promptly.

He gripped her hand, not wanting to dawdle. "Let's go, then."

. .

The park wasn't a very far run. Under the dim moonlight, Ulquiorra could make out a diamond shaped gaming field, empty and desolate in the dead of night.

They were sure that Ichigo and Rukia would be able to sense the danger by now, so if they came out to help, Ulquiorra wouldn't be surprised.

However, neither he nor Orihime were able to sense their enemy anymore. During their sprint, the Hollow's tails' attempts at whipping them have stopped.

"He disappeared," she murmured with uncertainty, echoing his thoughts. "I thought he'd chase us."

"Not with the type of powers he has," Ulquiorra rationalized. "He is more likely to pick an opportune time to reappear just as he did at your home. He may be watching us now."

The two felt silent, both catching their breaths.

He looked over at Orihime. She looked more focused than he had ever seen her. She was prepared to end this for sure. He never got to find out what exactly happened at that abandoned building, but he knew that she was thinking of that, too.

She suddenly glanced one way, her eyes rounded. "Uru—" she started.

One disconnected arm of the rematerialized fake Sora suddenly shot out from thin air, as if from behind an invisible curtain. And at awestriking speed, it grabbed Orihime by the neck.

Ulquiorra's eyes widened with shock. Orihime!

With ease, the newly materializing Hollow lifted her off the ground and immediately threw her back into it, face down in a heap a few feet away.

"Orihime!" Ulquiorra shouted, running to her side. Too focused on her well-being, he paid no heed to the laidback Hollow, who simply watched them in amused silence.

She groaned when he kneeled beside her. He helped her turn over, and pulled her against him, gingerly cradling her body in his arms.

"It burns, Urukkun," she whispered, her voice strained. She sucked in a hiss, curling into herself, even his gentle, protective touch causing her pain.

"Burns...?" he echoed with worry, laying a finger very lightly against her cheek. She winced and turned away from it.

There was nothing on her body indicating as such. She looked okay—only a little bruised and dirtied from the strangely mild crash. If anything, she should be complaining about broken bones.

And then the image of his arm disappearing into the air suddenly fleeted across his mind with dread.

He hitched in a breath. Slowly, he lowered his eyes to take a more careful look, this time, at her entire body.

Her legs, and seconds later, her hair, were beginning to fade into the air, wisping away like ashes—just as he had done in Hueco Mundo.

"Orihime..." he uttered in a choked whisper, gaping in horror. Without consideration for her invisible burns, his free had jutted out to grip her wrist, to cling with vain.

She briefly squeezed her eyes shut at his gesture. She gasped with pain, but as she opened them again, she realized what was happening; she saw that her hand was beginning to fade away, too.

A tear slid down Orihime's cheek. Her eyes were heartbreakingly terrified, and her jaw was tense with pain. "Ulquiorra-kun," she weeped. Even her voice sounded like it was fading into the air.

And then, he no longer felt her wrist in his grasp. He was gripping nothing.

His throat clinched sorely. It was only seconds ago he had felt her pulse in his hand.

Not her.

Something inside of him broke.

Please. Not her.

He had never felt so hopeless, so weighed down by the pain in his chest, only able to watch as she disappeared in his arms; only able to stare grievously into last instance of her being—her beautiful glassy eyes—as she vanished completely into nothing.

Just like that.

Her hairpins fell pathetically to the grass in front of him, the only remnants of her that remained. With a numb hand, he grabbed them.

Orihime?

"The one who destroyed; the one who resurrected," spoke up the Hollow patiently, obviously unthreatened. "Tragic."

She had just been in his hands. It was only a moment ago that he could hear her heartbeat. He could still hear his name on her lips, the wind carrying what was now only a figment of his imagination.

No—these eyes of his had to be deceiving him, they had to be lying; it had to be a trick. Everything had to be—just had to be...

"Orihime..." he muttered, ignoring the enemy.

There was nothing.

The Hollow continued to observe him with both amusement and pity.

"Orihime!" Ulquiorra yelled into the night. He had never used his voice so strenuously before. It scratched his throat and made him go hoarse—but he needed to know that what he thought happened hadn't happened at all.

He struggled to his feet, her name still leaping from his lips. "ORIHIME! ONNA!"

"Aww, you look distraught," the Hollow finally muttered, eyeing Ulquiorra. He looked sickeningly satisfied. "I'm sure you already miss her, don't you? You two were so in love, weren't you? Would you like to see her again?"

Ulquiorra immediately understood what the Hollow was getting at. "Don't you dare," he growled dangerously as he turned to glare at him, squeezing his clammy hands into fists so tight they went numb.

The Hollow smirked. Suddenly, the tail vanished, and his shape fluidly changed like ripples of water: orange-red hair, large gray eyes, the hourglass figure.

Ulquiorra's jaw clenched.

"Now why would I do that?" he asked playfully.

The growing emptiness in his chest was so painful that it was all he could feel, and the only thing his mind was capable of thinking was the image of her fading away, playing over and over. It left his body cold.

"Where is she?" Ulquiorra asked with angry desperation. "What did you do to her!"

The faint smile grew into a wide, demonic one.

"WHERE'S MY WOMAN!" he snarled.

With feigned cuteness, the Hollow tilted his head to the side. It was a cruel imitation of the woman he loved, and this enemy knew it all too well. "Eh...? I'm right here, Urukkun."

Ulquiorra's chest seared with a foreign, unbearable pain. He raised a hand to clutch his chest, suddenly finding himself struggling to breathe. Nonetheless, he continued to stand his ground. "Do not taunt me, Trash," he simmered.

"I thought it was already obvious. You just don't want to face it."

Ulquiorra's tormented green eyes stared hard the Hollow, not understanding—or not wanting to understand.

"How does it feel, experiencing the loss of a loved one for the first time? This despair?"

He gritted his teeth. "You—"

"Do you want to join her?" the Hollow continued, and then perked up. "Ah! She was human, correct? Then you may see her in Soul Society, but you might have to search through all that vast world for one pretty girl." The Hollow wagged a playful index finger at him. "And you can't go back to Soul Society, ne, Urukkun?"

"A mere exile will not hinder me. Nor will you."

"Do you even dare to lift a hand to this face?"

Ulquiorra swallowed with hidden anxiety, but he needed to keep a strong front. "If necessary."

As he had boasted back in Orihime's apartment—he was almost as human as she was. But he had learned the hard way how defenseless he really was. But for her, he must do something... he just didn't know what.

"To go from my level in Hueco Mundo to something so pitiful," the Hollow muttered thinly, smiling. "It makes me wonder if I should have mercy on you."

"..."

Something suddenly swiped him sideways and sent him into the air. He had been so engrossed in memories of Orihime that he didn't pay attention to what the enemy was doing.

I cannot get distracted like this—

His mid-air musings were interrupted when he crashed a few yards away, his eyes buried in grass and his mouth tasting cold dirt.

He coughed, spitting out earth. Pain ached throughout his entire body. It was nothing compared to the brutality of his injuries back when he protected Orihime with that Adjuchas Hollow. Nonetheless, he felt a pain in his now broken rib, as well as blood from his lip and nose.

He pushed himself up, ignoring the sear of his wounds.

But a hand suddenly reached into Ulquiorra's hair, gripping tightly, tearing painfully at his dark locks to keep him in place. A sharp, ugly reiatsu bore down on his neck, pinning him.

With all his strength, Ulquiorra swung his elbow backward, in hopes of at least getting a hit on the Hollow, but something heavy and full of sharp, razor-like fur whipped at him, deflecting his attempt.

Ulquiorra hissed in pain as his arm recoiled, blood now pouring from the heavy gashes on his arm.

Almost immediately, the Hollow shoved his head back into his grass. Pain shot up his head. A groan helplessly spilled out of his mouth. And no matter how much he tried to push himself off the ground, the enemy only pushed back harder, not only with his monstrous strength, but with his equally oppressive reiatsu.

"In my true form, I have 100 tails, Espada," the Hollow commented. "I'm already wasting my energy by revealing two to deadweight like you."

Ulquiorra violently pulled his shoulder back in an attempt to ward the Hollow off, but he felt two points aim squarely at his back with threat.

"How does it feel?" came the fake Orihime's voice, thin and hateful, "to have this face you love so much hurt you like this? To hear the disgust in this voice?"

Ulquiorra knew that his Orihime would never take such an attitude toward him, but the imagery of these words tore at him, digging up the inner doubt and insecurity that was buried deep. But it wasn't this feeling that sent a shiver up his spine.

The ominous warmth that had taken over his arm earlier tonight created a fear like nothing else. It was hard not remembering the human pain that crippled him to a lying, useless mass. He couldn't fathom what this same ability would do against his head, even his entire body.

His ear against the ground, Ulquiorra suddenly heard the sprint of footsteps coming toward him. He opened his eyes wide, green orbs focusing on two pairs of sandaled feet rushing forward, and then leaping over him into the air.

The points against his back moved.

The addition of two heavy reiatsu, one heavy with threat, and the other icy with dead calm, made Ulquiorra's heart beat with some hope.

Kurosaki Ichigo and Kuchiki Rukia.

There was a whoosh of the Hollow's tail and twin clangs from the clash of weapons and razored tails, but no successful hit—the shinigami ended up skidding to a stop as they landed a few feet away.

"You make it damn easy for us to see that you aren't really Inoue!" came the sharp growl of Ichigo's voice. "So what did you do with our nakama!"

"And let Ulquiorra go!" Rukia yelled. "He's no threat to you! Fight us instead!"

Avoiding their questions and demands, the Hollow dug Ulquiorra's face further into the dirt, hindering his breaths, hiding his sight... and lowering him to the nothing he saw him as. As if it wasn't enough, the heavy pressure of the Hollow's reiatsu gripped him, trapping him.

Ulquiorra had no weapon—in this gigai, a sword and his bit of speed were all he had left.

And he couldn't stop Orihime from disappearing.

"If you move any more, this Espada will die in my hand."

"What the fuck are you saying!"

"I'm saying that I can kill him right here, right now. In an instant." The hand in his hair squeezed, as if intending to rip the scalp off his head. "Just like your precious girl."

Pang.

Ulquiorra's hand desperately squeezed the pins he refused to part with.

Orihime.

"You... killed her?" Ichigo's voice was quiet, full of broken shock.

Killed. The word finally processed in Ulquiorra's mind. It was a painful reality he couldn't escape from. It was a truth he couldn't lie to himself with. Orihime had been killed. The heart he held so dear had faded into oblivion.

The lump in his throat was difficult to swallow. It was impossible to breathe. This sensation was beyond the pain of his injuries.

Orihime.

"You're lying!" Rukia shouted frantically. "There's no way!"

There was no longer anything he could grasp onto to keep her with him. These pins in his deathgrip were now empty.

Every memory he had of his beloved woman and every instance of her face that he could envision, smiling with eyes full of love, flooded his mind in a rush. The one who gave him a heart was all he ever wanted to see again—in any lifetime. In every lifetime.

But she wasn't here, and she wasn't coming back.

"—Didn't you want her power?" Ulquiorra heard the shorter shinigami go on. There was disbelief in her voice. "Why would you do that if you wanted something from her?"

"Something's off," Ichigo muttered. Ulquiorra heard a thin rip of a Hollow mask forming, the orange-haired human accessing the Hollow side of his powers. "Now fight us, you asshole! And leave Ulquiorra out of thi—"

"I told you not to move."

The dread of imminent demise jolted Ulquiorra. He knew what was coming next.

Is this what my human life has been reduced to?

Perhaps there was no way around it. A Hollow at this level could not be beaten by a distilled version of Ulquiorra. The shinigami, maybe, but if they stayed as they were, this fight would only end in a stalemate.

"No!" screamed Ichigo. "That guy has nothing to do with you—"

Ulquiorra shut his eyes. There was no point in Kurosaki Ichigo to continue trying to reason with such a brash, volatile character; and no point in protecting a former enemy. This was his ending, just as Orihime had faced hers. And his biggest regret...

Orihime... I wish I could have protected you better.

"Goodbye, Esp—"

THCKKK.

The grip on him—both physically and reiatsu-wise—suddenly released.

Stark green eyes popped back open and lifted slightly from the grass. A soft sound filled the uncertain silence—something tumbling sorrowfully to the ground somewhere near him.

Ulquiorra couldn't tell what had happened. But from the throat-grating screech directly behind him, he had an idea.

His hand suddenly growing warm, he opened his palm... just in time to catch a pinpoint of reddish light dive back within the accessories.

The Shun Shun Rikka was active.

"Orihime...?" he questioned in hushed bewilderment.

As if to answer him, a ghost of a distinct aura filled his system, awakening him with renewed alertness. He could feel her again, her adoring gaze boring into his back. And he watched with fascination as the warmth of her shield enveloped him, quickly healing his injuries.

Ulquiorra's heart began pounding with hope; with his needful ache to see her. He took in a deep breath, and finally found the energy to stand and turn on his heel.

He discovered that the enemy had stepped back several steps, hunched over slightly because of the injury; a stump at his shoulder that could have mirrored Ulquiorra's own earlier. Nearby, Ulquiorra also spotted a bloodless arm on the ground begin to corrode, disappearing little by little like some sort of acidic reaction. It was different from the way Orihime disappeared, but similar to the way Ulquiorra's own arm had. In any case, it was permanent.

And then... there was her, just as he had seen her last, but even more beautiful now because she was real.

Orihime's eyes never wavered from the Hollow as she stepped closer. They burned with fearlessness.

The Hollow craned his neck to follow everyone else's gaze. The gray eyes widened with unadulterated surprise. "You...!"

Her voice rang like he had never heard it before: clear and deadly. "Don't touch Ulquiorra-kun or any of my friends!"

The Hollow gritted his teeth... but slowly, it widened to a grin full of murderous intent—lips pulled so far back that it appeared as though it sliced through his head.

A tail manifested, whipping past his eyes and flying at Orihime.

Ulquiorra's green orbs widened. Why isn't she moving?

Before he could cry out to her, he watched as her protective shield formed in a triangle in the tail's path. The appendage hit—but upon impact, disintegrated.

... That was new. It was like the Santen Kesshun and the Fushokuten Shishun combined...

The fake Orihime let out a screech of pain, stumbling back a step to recover.

"I-Inoue?" Ichigo called out. Neither he nor Rukia knew what to do.

She didn't seem to hear him, too focused to pay attention to anything else.

"I've stalled too long," Orihime said cryptically. She stepped forward bravely, and then added, "I need to move on now."

She allowed a great dome to form over the entire park. If not for the threatening buzz of death surrounding them, as well as the sparks of electric ribbons fortifying the shield, he would've found the the yellow filter against the world around them beautiful.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Rukia, with wide, fearful eyes, quickly grab onto Ichigo's sleeve. The taller shinigami seemed just as anxious, but Ulquiorra assumed that his silence meant that he was trying to look strong in front of the girl with him.

Ulquiorra turned his emerald stare back to Orihime. What was she doing?

It was possible that she could kill not just the Hollow, but all of them. Nonetheless, something about her felt controlled. Her reiatsu felt alive. It was stronger than ever, hot with bridled anger. Unlike Ulquiorra's own experiences with facing Ichigo, Orihime's energy wasn't heavy at all. He likened more to ribbons of light meant to ensnare rather than something meant to crush.

"You must think I'm simple-minded," the Hollow commented, "to think I will just stand here and let you kill me. And how about your loved ones?" He stepped forward.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Orihime warned softly.

"What? Move, human?"

Her brows furrowed, but she didn't say anything else.

"Nothing to say?" He smirked nastily. "Challenge accepted."

Orihime glanced at Ulquiorra, and then at her friends, her gray gaze rather pointed.

Don't move, something within told him, his intuition strong. Only moving his green irises, he glanced at the shinigami through his peripheral. They also seemed to get the hint, both tensely motionless.

Without heeding her warning, The Hollow shot his last tail forth. But no matter how blindingly fast it was, it was no match for Orihime, the tip just short of touching her before it vaporized.

"You just don't want to lift a finger and own up to your kills," the Hollow snarled, his anger growing. "Don't play innocent, Girl. You are a killer. And even worse, you murdered your friends for your own selfish plans!"

She gritted her teeth, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "That's not true!"

Like clay, the Hollow's head molded... into the form of a fox head-shaped skull. He lowered his arms to the ground like front animal legs, with fur, sharp and gold, spreading over the entirety of his body. From the base of his back, dozens upon dozens of tails emerged, a mixture of those that looked like the ones that had attacked them on this night, and others made of what looked like energy. Either way, Ulquiorra assumed that there were 98 in number, not including, of course, the two already gone.

The Hollow had finally released into its true form.

Shocked, Orihime backed up a step. She stared at the tails with wide eyes, taking them in carefully, like she was counting every single one.

Moreover, they were all aimed at her.

With abysmal black eyes, he silently dared her to fight now, even though sands of him floated above and wisped into nothing, her dome ever so slowly eating him away.

After a moment, Orihime closed her eyes briefly, bracing herself with resolve, bracing herself for her upcoming fight.

"Mina-san," she murmured, most likely to the ones able to fight: Kurosaki Ichigo and Kuchiki Rukia. "You can move now."

The last thing Ulquiorra remembered before passing out from a blinding yellow light, was the two shinigami—suddenly with the power to overcome the power of the dome—sprinting past him to join their comrade.

. .

When he came to, he saw that the night returned to its normal post-midnight blue and a cool, breezy silence, drying the salty heat that dampened Ulquiorra's skin as he carefully sat up.

"Ulquiorra-kun?"

Her voice, calling my name; ringing in this aching heart.

Hearing her rushing footsteps rustling the grass, the green-eyed man turned his head. As soon as he locked on to those beautiful gray eyes, Ulquiorra opened his arms and allowed her to drop to her knees and collapse against him.

He held her as if she was the fabric of life itself, the air he breathed, the heart that kept him alive. He sank his face into her neck, simply taking in the feel and smell of her.

Her heartbeat pulsed hard against his own.

She still lives.

He closed his eyes, melding into her warmth.

My woman still lives.

There was truly nothing else he would rather have in his grasp right now.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Ulquiorra-kun."

"That fear..." Ulquiorra squeezed her against him even tighter, scared that she might fade again if he let go. "... It was painful."

Despite the simple words, she seemed to sense how far the emotion really reached for him, how much had shaken him to his core. A sob shook her body. "I'm so sorry..."

"No," he replied. "That thing was the one who tried to take you."

Nearby, the battleworn Ichigo and Rukia looked on in relief, despite how tired they seemed. The shorter of the two, though, also seemed to be in wonder. "Orihime," she broke in. "... How in the world did you come back, anyway?"

Orihime broke away from Ulquiorra to look at her. She blushed a little. "It wasn't... well, it wasn't as great as anything you guys have done..." she replied, the polite side of her buffering the praise, although it was something she had wanted from them in the first place.

"The hell? You returned from the dead!" Ichigo exclaimed.

She shook her head. "I didn't die, Kurosaki-kun. I guess the Hollow wanted you to think that to impair your judgment."

She glanced at Ulquiorra. "Urukkun, do you remember when that cube made you go to that void?"

He arched a brow. "Why?"

"Well, I think the Hollow sent me there," she explained. "Or well, something like that. The Hollow intended to trap me, I guess, so that he could come back and consume me after he was done with all of you. He probably thought I couldn't get out."

"For someone who sought power from you to underestimate you like that, it's strange," Rukia remarked slowly.

"I guess his power relied more on being a sneaky bastard," Ichigo added. "No wonder he had an affinity for Ichimaru Gin at first."

"Either way," Orihime said, her eyes skimming the grass, "he's dead. For real, this time."

The group fell silent after that. Ulquiorra and Orihime pulled themselves to their feet, possibly ready to call it a night, but it seemed that Rukia had something else to say.

"Orihime? We want to say this... on behalf of Ishida and Chad as well, who both aren't here..." She snuck a glance at Ichigo, whose eyes were staring down his sandaled feet.

Facing Orihime again, she sighed. "We're sorry," she continued, looking sincere as she uttered the apology. She bowed deeply; with respect. "We didn't mean to create such a mess for you mentally. We wanted—"

"You didn't have to be so overbearing," Orihime told them. When the two shinigami darted their gazes to her, she bowed her head, a little self-conscious. But she persevered.

"I'm not a child. And I'm not helpless."

Rukia lowered her gaze, humbled. "No... you're not," she agreed.

"But you're forgiven, Kuchiki-san. I understand that you only did it because you cared."

Ulquiorra shifted his eyes to Ichigo, who hadn't said anything. He wasn't even looking this young woman who once saw him as her love and hero. Even with a shattered perfect image, the shinigami should have at least had the decency to apologize on his own—but he didn't. For someone who seemed torn and vengeful by her 'death,' he showed little resignation of his faults to her face.

Ulquiorra recalled a time where Ichigo had claimed to have used her feelings to separate him and her. It was a rude move and the shinigami knew it, but he didn't even own up to that.

What a shame.

Ulquiorra knew that Orihime was aware that Ichigo was an overall a good person, but not perfect, and they would have to deal with him slowly and eventually maturing enough to express his humility. But until then—even though they were allies and barely friends—Ulquiorra would lose respect for him.

Orihime turned a gray eye to Ichigo, as if expecting something from him, but instead of bowing his head and outright apologizing like Rukia had, he smiled awkwardly. "Guess I won't be protecting you as much, huh?"

"Ichigo," Rukia quietly reprimanded, nudging him with her elbow.

The orangeheaded teen took a deep breath, his eyes guarded, and offered Orihime a ninety-degree bow.

She took a step backward, somehow not expecting him to lower himself so much for her. "Uh, Kurosaki-kun—"

"You deserve better treatment than we've given you—than I've given you," he mumbled. "... I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Kurosaki-kun," she said with a smile. "It's hard to stay mad at you and Kuchiki-san and the others. I mean, I've always had a soft spot for yo—eh, what's wrong?"

Ichigo suddenly gritted his teeth with uneasiness, looking past her shoulder and pointing at Ulquiorra with a wary look. "Oi, I don't think you should ramble on with stuff like that..."

Indeed, Ulquiorra felt something burn possessively inside of and around him, and he wanted to make sure Kurosaki Ichigo was very aware of that.

"Urukkun," she giggled, laying a hand against his arm. "I-I love you! You know that!"

Orihime wasn't going to get away herself. He shot a harsh look toward her. "Prove it."

She blushed and moved her gray orbs to the side, her voice lowering to a shy murmur. "I think... I've shown that enough..."

It was then Ichigo finally noticed what the couple was not wearing, Orihime in particular. Without meaning to, he gave her a once over, his face colored out of embarrassment.

Ulquiorra leveled another angered stare at him.

Ichigo coughed awkwardly and flickered his eyes back to Rukia, his eyes boring into an area past her shoulder. "... I guess we better get going, guys."

Rukia blinked, confused as to why he was looking at her. "Did you mean to say that to them?" she questioned blankly.

"Just come on!" He grabbed her by the sleeve and dragged her away.

"Hey, you're going to make my uniform slip, you idiot!" she cried as she stumbled after him.

Ulquiorra watched them disappear into the night, and then turned back to Orihime. He caressed her cheek with his thumb. He expected her to flush with embarrassment at Ichigo's realization.

But instead, she began to cry.

"... Onna..." he chided softly, gently forcing her by the chin to face him. She flinched and turned away, ashamed.

These weren't tears of relief or happiness. Her expression showed feelings of dishonor. In the end, despite the defeat, she wasn't proud of the power she used. But maybe she never had been; it represented something she was not and something she never wanted to be—a destructive god.

"I'm never using that again," she whispered, her jaw clenched to keep it from quivering as she spoke. "It always sends me these scary shivers I don't want to understand."

"Then don't use it anymore. What are you fretting over?"

"But Ulquiorra-kun, after all this time of wanting to prove—"

"You simply did what you had to do, Orihime." Seeing that she was not yet convinced, he added, "Moreover, it was Tsubaki who saved my life. I know you have that Hougyoku to amplify the things you do, but if you are able to use it to your advantage, that is impressive as well."

She lifted her head and looked up at him with awe.

"Don't think that I don't understand what you are going through," he continued. "I know you, Onna. Even with your hatred for the Fushokuten Shishun, you still have strength befitting of a warrior without it. If the others do not already see that, then they are blind."

She bowed her head, one last tear slipping down her cheek as she closed her eyes. She was contemplating, taking his words in earnest... until she reached some sort of final epiphany.

She allowed a real smile to stretch across her face, one that brightened the night. It was gorgeous; Ulquiorra did not dare tear away from her.

"Then," she finally spoke up, putting her hand to her chest. Her expression was full of resolve. "I will own this strength and believe that I stand on equal footing with Kurosaki-kun."

Her heart was her strength. Her heart must have been what got her out of the Vasto Lorde's trap, and her heart was what will keep her fighting to her full potential.

A proud smile pulled at Ulquiorra's lips.

- { - } -

"Well, I assume you got into contact with your benefactor about a new apartment," Kisuke said lightly to Orihime, smiling.

She blushed sheepishly and stared down at her lap.

With the damages at her current apartment, Orihime no longer had a door, among other things. It was obviously an uncomfortable situtation, and no longer a fit place for her to stay in. Ulquiorra had suggested that she change, quickly pack some important and valuable items, and go with him back to Urahara Shouten and deal with it later.

Or until my landlord decides to kill me... she added to herself, worried.

"—But until you find a new place to live, I suppose you can stay," Kisuke was saying, "although I imagine you would have more room staying at Kurosaki's; he has a bigger house and Tia-chan is staying there already, or—"

"No," Ulquiorra said sternly, glaring at him. "She stays with me."

Orihime shot him a startled look. His expression indicated that he probably wouldn't want her to stay with even her female friends, but it wasn't as though she minded. She often craved Ulquiorra's company, anyway.

Kisuke raised an eyebrow at the couple, looking highly skeptical. "Are you two planning to sleep in the same—?"

"Ah, well," Orihime spoke up, her face now an embarrassed crimson, "I have my own futon, if it makes you feel any better, Urahara-s—"

"She has stayed in bed with me here before, and I have stayed in bed with her at her apartment," Ulquiorra butted in, shooting a narrow-eyed look at his guardian. "We will be fine."

"I don't entirely approve of a young lady like Orihime-chan sleeping every night in the same room as your boyfriend," Kisuke responded, his expression unsure and thoughtful, "if you understand what I'm saying..." However, in an instant, his expression did a one-eighty, a broad grin breaking across his face.

"Oh, who am I kidding? Go at it like rabbits, I say!"

"... Pardon?" Ulquiorra asked with deadpan.

"Every night! Every hour!" Kisuke cheered with a perverse, dreamy look on his face. "Moan at the top of your lungs so it echoes off the walls! I'll allow it!"

"U-Urah-hara-san!" an even more reddened Orihime exclaimed, frantically waving her hands in front of her. "Our relationship isn't... isn't that..." She struggled for the right word, but then turned to Ulquiorra to help her.

"You assume too many unnecessary things, Urahara Kisuke," Ulquiorra snapped, but interestingly, even he seemed a bit embarrassed, judging by the way he turned his head to the side.

Kisuke's smile was sly. "Oh-ho, but that is what I'm good for."

- { - } -

A few days later marked the first day of the new semester.

After class was over, Ulquiorra found Orihime staring out the window outside his classroom. Even from where he was standing, he could see that she was mentally a bit distant.

Overall, she was fine. The redhead would often smile and laugh, enjoy her time with her nakama and with him; but sometimes she still had her darker instances where she reflected on more depressing subjects, and right now that showed. He expected as much. Although she remained strong in her resolve, she was still going to have those few moments of melancholy that tried to hinder her progress.

He approached her cautiously. She didn't move as he neared, obviously quite lost in thought. Coming up on her left, he lifted his right hand and reached across the back of her shoulders. He gently pressed his fingers against her right cheek from behind, turning her face so that she looked at him.

"Ah, Urukkun," she murmured with soft surprise. Her eyes were clouded with distraction, even with her attention on him. Her smile was forced, and there was nothing he hated more than seeing a fake smile on his woman's face.

"Is there something on your mind?" he asked her, using the arm around her to reel her in. She fell against him, grabbing onto his uniform to catch herself.

The tip of her nose brushed against his sternum. With reflex, she kissed his heart. "A lot," she muttered. "... the past—recent and..." She didn't finish, but she didn't have to; Ulquiorra already knew.

It must be hard for her to let go.

For a second, he wondered if she had been the same way just after the war—if his death had indeed haunted her, and if she had incredible difficulty letting go of that sentimental moment between them on the dome. Knowing her, she probably did. It was why she had looked forward to finding him in Soul Society... why she had the need to make sure he had been okay. His death had been burned into her memory, just as watching her disappear in his arms had.

He would not allow himself to dwell on it, however; it would be useless to.

Nonetheless, Ulquiorra squeezed her against him, as if to make sure she was real.

"Um, Urukkun?"

He tilted his head down toward her. She was gazing up at him with an apologetic look.

"Handicrafts Club is today—"

He tried not to look annoyed, but it must've be automatic, for she chuckled at him. "I won't force you to come. But you don't have to wait for me."

He sighed. "How long is it?"

"Two hours or so..."

Ulquiorra scowled disapprovingly. "Or so?"

Orihime smoothed out the front of his uniform. Life returned to her eyes; to her curving lips. He wasn't sure what caused it, but he was confident enough to know that it was because of him. He wanted to be the source of her happiness, just as she was the source of his.

"You can handle not being around me for a bit, Urukkun. I'll see you at the shop, anyway!" Realizing what she just said, she blushed deeply, but didn't turn away from him.

Ah, yes. Temporarily, they would be sharing a home. He didn't know why she was so embarrassed by it.

He delicately pinched a reddened cheek, teasing her. "Fine," he said, releasing her. "But I am walking you there."

"Okay!"

She promptly reached out to hold his hand. She felt soft and warm as always, and with a tender look, he watched as his fingers weaved through hers.

My heart.

Together, they headed out of the hallway.

"You know," she spoke up playfully as they proceeded down the stairs. "Your eyes sometimes have this really cute puppy dog look."

He glared at her. "Excuse me?"

She didn't notice how dismayed he was about it. "Your eyes are so big and green and pretty... but sometimes they look so pleading, too..."

"I did not realize that I appear like a street beggar," he scoffed.

"It's cute!"

"It's insulting."

She giggled and leaned against his arm affectionately. "This is why I love you, Urukkun."

"Because of that? What could you possibly love about my pride getting trampled by your foolish compar—"

"No!" she cut in with amusement, abruptly stopping in the middle of the staircase. It was so sudden that he would have almost tripped down the rest of the way if he hadn't reached for the wall to regain his balance.

"Onna," he grunted exasperatedly, "what are you doing?"

Instead of an immediate answer, he felt her soft body press him into the wall. A bit surprised, Ulquiorra peered down at her. Orihime wasn't really one to lead, especially in a public setting. For her to pin him, with her smaller hands on either side of his torso and her form flush against his, made him both slightly confused and rather... seduced.

Those beautiful eyes stared up at him brightly. It was wondrous how she could sway him, to get him to loosen up like he never had before, to truly relax and be willing to show his love for her.

"I love you because you're you, and that makes me happy," she explained, leaning forward, and kissed him. Her mouth was soft and warm; full of the hearth she often exhuded. Everything about her was comfort to him—that and this emotion that went beyond a certain four-letter word.

It was this feeling that fueled their gentle kiss to immediately intensify. Both sets of lips pressing needfully, parting in order to taste each other more deeply; wanting to consume the other with this love.

"I still don't quite understand, Orihime," he breathed against her lips a moment later, in a husky, playful tone. With the dizzying whirlwind of passion guiding him, his index finger reached over and hooked into her white uniform shirt, against a middle button—threatening to undo it. "Show me why you love me." His free hand reached for her hip, sliding hers up against his.

"You're funny," she replied and kissed him again. Unluckily for him, it was anticlimactic, a short caress in comparison to what he had received from her a moment earlier. It left him frustrated. "Let's go. I might be late."

Orihime tried to step backward, but he grasped her by the waist, holding her in place. "Must you be on time?" he questioned in a deep voice. "No—let me correct myself. Do you even have to go?"

"I have to work on something," she explained with a small laugh.

His mouth brushed against her brow. "Ishida Uryuu will not care if you miss a day," he murmured.

"But I will," Orihime said, her voice a little firmer. She stood on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the nose. "You're always so pouty," she observed in a cute voice.

Her ability to dissolve his annoyance was astounding. He forced down a smile and avoided her adoring stare. "Orihime..."

She gently grabbed his hands and removed them from around her waist. He was sure she could sense how indignant he was, but it would not, of course, be enough for her to change her mind. "Let's go now, okay?" She lifted her eyes to his pleadingly.

This damn woman. How could anyone say no to that face of hers? "As you wish," he relented.

. .

They stopped in front of the classroom as soon as they came upon it. But just as Ulquiorra was about to depart, she grabbed the hem of his uniform coat.

"What?" he questioned, turning back around. "Have you changed your mind?"

"No, I just wanted to say thank you," she replied, smiling at him gratefully. "... You made me feel better today."

His eyes softened toward her. "Orihime," he muttered, "if I don't make you feel better every day, I find it a problem."

Her cheeks reddened, and her eyes fell to her shoes. "Ah, well..." Clearly, it wasn't a reply she had expected to get.

"Inoue-san?" called Uryuu from inside the room. He was already there with a few students, including a few of Orihime's classmates Ulquiorra recognized (and found terribly annoying). "Are you joining us?"

"Hai! Coming!" she called back. She turned to Ulquiorra again and began to blow him a kiss—

—but he caught the 'sending' hand, intertwining his fingers through hers. Why settle for a silly air-kiss when he could easily obtain the real thing? Ulquiorra crashed her into him and kissed her for real, until he was certain he would leave her soft little mouth swollen and reddened with his affection.

He also managed a smirk as he watched her disappear into the room on wobbly feet.

- { - } -

"I don't think I have to ask for whom you're making that for."

Orihime jumped out of her seat, nearly stabbing herself with the thread needle. "I-Ishida-kun!" she stammered, blushing with embarrassment.

Uryuu smiled faintly and sat across from her, at the desk connected to hers. "Everyone else left. Are you sure you don't need me to stay?"

She glanced out the window to gauge the time of day. The sky was turning a soft pink and orange, indicating the lateness of the afternoon.

"No, it's okay, Ishida-kun," she replied with a smile. "Don't feel obligated to stay. I can clean up the club's supplies on my own."

"Actually, I'll have to insist," he answered politely. "I think your boyfriend would kill me if I left you alone at this time of day."

"But he knows I can take care of myself," she reassured him with raised brows.

"I'm talking about things... not related to Hollows," he said. "They may appear at night and assault you."

"Ghosts?" Her eyes were suddenly wide with fear.

He smiled awkwardly. "... O-Oh, no, Inoue-san, nothing like that."

She still didn't quite understand him, but didn't bring up anymore questions. After the pause that followed, Uryuu decided to change the subject. "You're getting better, Inoue-san," he told her honestly.

Confused, Orihime looked down at the dark green scarf she was making for Ulquiorra. The end was a little crooked, and the white heart she was embroidering on it caused her more finger injuries than she thought possible, but—

"That's not what I meant," Uryuu corrected her softly, smiling. He seemed to be aware of her inner musings. He took off his glasses and began cleaning them with the end of his sleeve. "Inoue-san, you could've easily proved your strength just by showing off the fact that you had the Hougyoku, that it was stuck inside of you and that you'd forever be stronger than the rest of us... but you didn't."

Orihime watched him in silence, her mood growing more serious. Uryuu had never spoken to her like this before—like Ichigo and the others, he had limited her to the role of only the healer, safeguarding her, pushing her back so that they could do all the fighting.

"Instead, you showed us, even when we didn't want you to because of past events," he continued, staring at the spectacles in his hand. "You gained full control of that chaotic spell inside of you. You were brave."

Orihime looked at him gratefully, however... "I couldn't gather that courage alone," she murmured, her smile faint as her thumb caressed the scarf.

"What do you mean?" Uryuu noticed her stare at the scarf and glanced from her to it with puzzlement. He slipped his glasses back on.

"Ulquiorra-kun," she said with the utmost affection—with love beyond any of her friends' understanding. "... He challenged me when everyone babied me."

Uryuu hung his head in somewhat a guilty manner, but didn't interrupt her.

"I realized that with him, I was able to mature." She lifted the scarf to her lips, lightly kissing the heart on it. "So, even though you saw me grow as a fighter, I became strong mentally because Ulquiorra-kun believed in me, and let me prove it not only to everyone, but to myself."

Uryuu raised his head, to stare at her in awe; she couldn't tell if it was from something within Orihime herself, or if it was because of the love she and Ulquiorra shared—their strong, untouchable bond.

"You really see him so highly?" he asked her.

"Of course." No question about it. "He brings out the best in me..."

Uryuu averted his dark blue gaze, his finger tracing over the wood marks of the desk he was sitting in. "He grew soft; that guy," he said quietly. "Soft in a way that allowed his heart and mind to open up. And I guess it was all because of you."

Orihime smiled wistfully, her cheeks turning a faint pink. "I hope so."

There was a pause. She guessed that it was because he felt uncomfortable by her praise of Ulquiorra. But evidently, there seemed to be something else on his mind. His azure-colored stare was deep, intense and calculating. "You must still have questions, don't you?" he spoke up in a quiet voice.

Her heart skipped a beat. "Questions?" she repeated slowly.

Suddenly, she knew where this was going. She had been set on suppressing everything, forgetting about her quest to learn about that time altogether... but it seemed that Uryuu, for the moment, wasn't going to just yet. She wondered if he knew that it might break her heart; that it could take her on a haphazard trip of guilt.

"Inoue-san, would you still like to know the details of what happened to us?"

- { - } -

That evening, after returning to the shop, Orihime retreated to her and Ulquiorra's room in silence.

Having been out of the room prior, Ulquiorra followed after her. He watched in confusion as she made her way to the standing lamp in the corner of the cramped quarters and turned it on, setting her bookbag and uniform jacket against the plain green stand. After all that, she just stood still.

What happened? She was fine this afternoon. He approached her cautiously. "... Orihime?"

"Ah, Urukkun, let me see your phone," she suddenly chirped, whirling around. She was smiling, acting as if the strange second of reflection didn't happen.

Deciding that it would be better to talk to her about it later, he obediently fished his cell phone—something he had just received from Urahara Kisuke that day—out of his pocket and handed it to her.

Without saying anything, she took it and began pressing a few buttons. The electronic display of the screen lit up against her concentrated eyes, giving them a lost and despondent look. It brought out her real mood underneath. While he found it beautiful, it also created an anxious churn in his gut.

"There!" she finally piped up again. "I put myself on speed dial. It'd be faster instead of scrolling down the contacts list to look for me."

He stared at her, his face a huge question mark. In fact, his puzzlement was the equivalent of a dozen or so question marks dancing over his head. He had no idea what she was talking about—and he was an intelligent person who caught onto things quickly, if he did say so himself. Either way, she might as well have been speaking another language.

Orihime giggled a bit at his expression and put her hand over his, physically guiding him through the supposed speed dial and contact list. "I'm sorry to say that it won't sense Hollows like Kurosaki-kun's does, but at least you can contact me from wherever you are, ne?" She glanced down at the phone menu. "You can even e-mail me and take pictures with it." Without warning, she took his cell out of his hands again. She then wrapped his arm around her waist to bring herself close beside him, and turned the phone backwards. Too confused to protest, he only stared at the phone as she swiveled her head to give him a random peck on the cheek.

Ulquiorra heard a fuzzy snap sound and watched warily when Orihime stared at the screen. She smiled widely. "Uwaa~ so handsome!" She turned the phone toward him. "It's our picture!"

He narrowed his eyes at the small, digitalized version of the two of them. It wasn't as though he hasn't seen what he looked like before; it was just that to have his face frozen in time in this manner was rather unsettling. Especially with such a horridly stern expression next to Orihime's beautiful, affectionate gesture.

Orihime handed the device back to him. He held his hand out to take it, but then she retracted again. "Ooh, one more thing," she added hastily, and turned to skip to her bookbag.

"Onna..." he uttered impatiently.

From one of the front pockets, she pulled out her phone. With her back slightly hunched and facing him, he couldn't tell what she was doing with both of them.

When she finally returned to him, he saw that he now had somehing winged, black, and fuzzy dangling from his phone. Were those green painted dots on its face supposed to be eyes?

"Here!" she exclaimed, handing it back to him.

After giving it an intense, fire-inducing stare, he sighed. "I get it," he grumbled. "I remind everybody of bats. You do not need to shove it down my throat."

She pouted. "I've been saving that charm for until you got a phone of your own."

Ulquiorra looked down at her. Despite the somber expression in her eyes, she managed a beautiful blush.

His woman was so thoughtful and endearing. So he couldn't help but lean in and briefly kiss her as a thank you.

She sensed as much from him. "You're welcome," she replied sweetly.

The couple fell silent, and her lips finally uncurved.

Ulquiorra slipped his phone back into his pocket and snaked his arms around her waist. He examined her expression with an inquisitive frown.

"Urukkun... today..." she began, hesitating with what she wanted to admit. "Ishida-kun..."

He narrowed his eyes, suddenly full of malicious intent toward the Quincy. "Did he say something to upset you?"

Orihime reached up to rub his tensing arms. "No, Urukkun," she said. "He just... he just offered to tell me everything."

Was that what she was upset about? If that was the case, she was handling it better than he expected. Perhaps he could breathe a sigh of relief because of that; everyone could. "So—"

"I didn't let him tell me," she broke in, annulling his guess.

"... I see." He paused. "If you no longer care to know, why are you still bothered? Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't know..." She buried her face into him, using him as something she could retreat safely into.

Was she regretting not taking up on Ishida Uryuu's offer? He found no point. Every time she she saw herself use that spell, she cracked, and every time that Vasto Lorde tried to forcefeed the information, she closed her mind off. She was better off taking what she did know and make it into a learning experience she could apply into her future.

"Orihime, you aren't that naïve," he went on quietly. "I'm sure you have an idea of what happened. But even with that much, there is no benefit. You don't need any of that part of your past; as I don't need my past as Espada."

She raised her head to stare at him.

"You were the one to accept me as I was, even when you knew exactly what I had done," he added. "The others—the shinigami from Soul Society, in particular—will do the same for you. After all, they all have past demons of their own." He took a few strands of her hair and slid his fingers along its length. "You are lucky in that you do not exactly remember anything. They should stay forgotten."

Orihime nodded slowly, taking in his words. "You're right," she whispered, and gently pressed her lips against his. "I'm sorry. I've been annoying with this lately, huh?"

"It's over, Orihime," he told her. One hand slid down, caressing the beautiful curve of her backside. "Meant to be locked away."

"Mm," she mumbled breathily in reply, her hands reaching upward to caress his face as they continued kissing.

"What time is it?" he murmured.

He felt her smile against his lips. "Check your phone, Urukkun."

Keeping one arm wrapped firmly around her waist and his mouth kneading against hers, Ulquiorra reached into his pocket to fish out his cell phone. He supposed he would have to get used to carrying the device. "Seven," he read, breaking away. He turned back to her. "Let's go out."

"Right now?" she asked, with a bit of incredulity.

"This room is cramped, Orihime," he said. "I would rather not be here for too long... unless we are going to bed."

"It's a school night," she pointed out. "Wouldn't you rather stay in?"

"... So you expect something else of me. Is that what you meant?" he teased her in a low voice, his fiery emerald gaze traveling downward, past her lips, past her neck, and to her—

Suddenly, Orihime angled her head so that her eyes caught his wandering ones. "Ulquiorra-kun," she chided with a pout. "Not everything has to end with... with..." She turned pink, and cupped her hands over her mouth. "Sex," she finished in a tiny whisper, as if the word was taboo.

"Onna," he sighed, rolling his eyes, "you get embarrassed by the oddest things."

She turned redder. "T-That word is just so—you know what, let's go to the movies, okay?"

"Movies?" he echoed slowly, a look of doubt crossing his features.

"Oh, perfect!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together with delight. "You've never been to one! It'll be a learning experience." She looked down at her uniform. "I'll have to change out of these clothes, though." She peered at her boyfriend awkwardly out of the corner of her eye. "Um... I guess I'll go to the bathroom and—"

"Just your clothes? Change in here," he said. He didn't mean that in a perverted way; it was just more efficient. They were both already inside the room, where both their clothes were, and he hoped that she was comfortable with her body in front of him just as he was with her.

"What? No!" she suddenly cried, waving her hands frantically in front of him. "I-I can't do that, Urukkun!"

Well, maybe that was not really the case, after all. "Onna, I have seen you naked," he told her. "I will be preoccupied with changing myself. What is the problem?"

She wrung the end of her skirt. "I don't know..."

With a thoughtful stare, he reached out and undid the bottom button of her shirt. "Then I will remove your clothes for you. You're taking up precious time."

"Uh.. um..." She made no move to stop him. Instead, she stood frozen, battling between modesty and submission.

Deciding for her, Ulquiorra roughly pulled her against him by grasping the now open white flaps of her shirt. He lowered his head to whisper to her. "What's the matter?"

Another button from the bottom went undone. Ulquiorra then blew gently into her ear. Orihime shuddered and fisted the front his shirt. With one arm, he tightened the embrace to steady her.

He smirked and grazed her reddened cheek with his lips, sneakily unbuttoning two more, thus exposing the creamy skin of her flat, smooth stomach. "Not everything must end with sex," he commented mischievously. He brushed a thumb over it. The touch against her sensitive flesh made her gasp. "Is that not right?"

"W-W-Why are you always so frisky?" she stammered helplessly.

"It's more amusing to persuade you in this manner than simply telling you," he answered easily.

She turned away, embarrassed that she submitted to him so quickly. "Well, I'll get changed on my own..."

"What?"

Without warning, she wrestled out of his arms and scurried off to her ridiculously designed suitcase on the opposite wall.

Damn it."... Suit yourself," he scoffed to her back. He had been hoping she would just give in to him instead.

Slightly annoyed, he turned around to face his wardrobe.

A few minutes after opening it, though, he felt bare arms fold across his stomach and a soft, warm body press into his back. She was no longer covered by her shirt, he realized; and intrigued, he dipped his gaze. He watched her hands generously feel his stomach as they lowered to his pants. Hot lust surged into the area below his belt. He suppressed an eager sigh as her fingers brushed over his—

"Ulquiorra-kun?" she asked in a soft voice, her hand now slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. Her bra-clad breasts were overwhelmingly supple on his back. All Ulquiorra could imagine was what they would feel like in his grasp, and what kind of moans would spill out of her mouth when he molded them with his hands.

He let out a long breath through his nose, letting the fire of passion thrum warmly inside him and take him over. "Yes?" he asked, feigning nonchalance.

Ulquiorra felt a light kiss against the back of his shoulder. "I don't want to go out anymore," she told him. She sounded bold, especially in comparison to how she was acting earlier. Then again, even at the slightest hint of arousal, that shyness disappeared in an instant. Underneath the innocent act seen by her friends, she had an amazing intimate side.

Orihime started sliding his pants past his hips.

A dirty smirk forced its way to his face. "Then we will stay in," he affirmed.

Thus began another night that ended with sex.

- { - } -

"Princesa must be pretty damn strong," spoke up Grimmjow, who was sitting on one of the rocks of the underground training facility. "I mean, to help kill a Vasto Lorde and shit."

"If that was all she had with the Hougyoku, it was still nothing in comparison to what Aizen Sousuke had boasted to us when we were Espada," his training partner, Tia answered. She was leaning against a rock across from him.

The two's spar had been interrupted by Kisuke and Yoruichi, who were retelling Orihime's last fight to them, as told to him by the ones who were there... among other topics.

"Well, with it, it still wouldn't be her full potential," interjected Kisuke. He smiled mysteriously. "Only time will tell if she releases something else. But seeing as that is not a concern for her right now..." He pointed a thumb to his chest. "... it'll stay safely locked away here."

"In her heart?" Yoruichi asked.

"Of course!" he exclaimed. "How else did she receive the ability to use the Shun Shun Rikka in the first place? It wasn't her brother or the memory of him alone. Nor was it just the Hougyoku."

With those words, Kisuke reached into his pocket. When he pulled his hand back out, he opened his palm.

In it was the remaining part of the Hougyoku—the one that had attached itself to Orihime in the explosive midst of her intervention.

Grimmjow wasn't surprised at the reveal, but the blonde and the cat clearly were.

Yoruichi was the first to speak up. "How did you—?"

"Our guess was," Kisuke explained, gesturing to himself and Grimmjow, "that Orihime-chan had been injured enough for it to slip out, but for some reason, that Hollow didn't know that it had separated from her."

"We found it when we tracked her down after her first fight with him," Grimmjow continued. "We didn't tell anyone at the time."

"So by the time she, Kurosaki-san, and Kuchiki-san ultimately defeated the Hollow..." Tia spoke up with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out the timeline.

"I guess she didn't need it," Kisuke said with a shrug. "I mean, since she was practically fused to it since the Winter War, it's been hers." He smiled. "So if she calls for it, it'll go back to her. But for now, I'll seal it in a different way so that it doesn't fall into the wrong hands."

"Then when you were speaking about it being locked away inside," Yoruichi chimed in, "you didn't mean the Hougyoku."

Kisuke smiled cheekily at his little word trickery. "Nope, I didn't." He closed his palm again. "Even though this belongs to her... that strength she showed was her own."

"I didn't realize a heart could be that powerful," Tia commented. She lifted a hand and touched her own. "Didn't she used hers to revive many who had been perished by her in the first place?"

"A heart in pure chaos that, in the end, mends destruction," Kisuke worded poetically, with an almost dreamy look on his face. "Wouldn't that make a fancy story? An action-filled manga with a sidestory of epic romance?"

Yoruichi looked at him oddly. "What kind of things go on in your head, I wonder."

- { - } -

It was close to midnight. Ulquiorra was lying next to Orihime on his side facing her, one arm folded under his head and the other resting loosely over her side.

Admiring his softened, slumbering face, she reached out to gingerly trace her fingers over his jawline. Had she ever taken the time to appreciate him and all that he has done for her? Looking back on everything, she realized that she had been a brat—running away when all Ulquiorra did was try to be there for her. To love her, at that. She had no reason to hide anything; not from someone who never stopped believing in her.

Orihime scooted in to tenderly kiss him, moving some stray locks of dark hair out of his face. Keeping her own face close, she brushed her mouth against his nose, and then his cheek.

She was happy. This was bliss lying beside her; her heart. And hopefully, maybe this person in bed with her will also be her future.

Orihime rubbed her nose against his and touched her lips to his again.

This time, he stirred. Unlike a few nights prior, Ulquiorra was in less of a cranky mood and in more of a curious one. He blinked, adjusting his green, almost glowing eyes in the darkness.

"Why are you still awake?" he asked her groggily.

"Why did you wake up?" she asked back.

"I don't know," he replied. He brought her close to his chest. "Maybe because I felt you doing things to me, you strange woman." He offered a tired kiss against her lips. "What is it?"

Orihime no longer had secrets to keep. Therefore, her answer for him was immediate. "I'm happy," she told him, resting her head against his arm. "And it's making me feel all restless."

"What could make you happy at this hour?"

She threaded her hands into his hair and pulled his face into her, against her heart. She was sure he could feel it beat thunderously with excitement, but she didn't care. "Because I have so much to look forward to," she answered, her lips against his head. "... And I have you. I'm so thankful."

Ulquiorra sighed and stroked her back. "I'm glad," he said, his voice muffled by the cotton tank top covering her bosom. "Now will you—"

Full of love, Orihime buried her eyes into his hair and tightened her hold, unknowingly suffocating her beloved.

"Orihime—" he protested, grabbing her by the waist. He tried to pry her off, but to no avail. "I can't brea—"

She managed to roll him onto his back, pinning and hovering over him. He gasped in a few breaths before he narrowed his eyes at her. "Onna..."

Unaffected by his irritation, she smiled broadly, staring down at him with affection.

He tried to continue glaring, but his expression instead melted into a ghost of a smile. He just couldn't stay mad at her. "You are much stronger than I realized," he told her teasingly, changing the subject. "You could have killed me with just your..." His voice trailed off, but he finished by reach up to pull the top of the tank top down a little, revealing some of her cleavage.

She knitted her brows with concern, not noticing the gesture at all. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," he said, letting go of her tank top. "Don't worry about it. Get some sleep."

"... Okay."

She stretched herself on top of him, intending to use him as her bed and pillow. She gave a lingering kiss against his shoulder, and then tilted her face up to his ear. "I love you," she whispered peacefully.

She felt his hand run affectionately through her hair. His other arm slid across her back. "And I love you," he replied softly.

They lapsed into silence... but that didn't last long.

"Urukkun?"

"Hm," he spoke up lazily, sounding half-asleep.

"Is... Is my chest really that..." She dropped her voice to a low, meek tone. "... dangerous?"

"Dangerous?" There was a pause, but then something strange happened.

At first, she thought he had simply hitched a breath, but soon discovered that it turned into a quiet chuckle, one that she could feel rumble from his chest and vibrate gently against her. It was a foreign sound to her ears, so new and beautiful that for a second, she went still with astonishment.

It was the first time she had heard him laugh.

It was... wonderful.

Tucking her head against the crook of his neck, she softly laughed along with him until she finally fell asleep in his arms.

---

The next chapter is the last (well, more of an epilogue, really). Just letting you know now.

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- { OMAKE } -
- { eye of the pantera } -

Ever since Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez "transferred" to Karakura High School, he has formed quite the reputation.

He was feared at school, but not too feared to the point of isolation—

"It's J-J-J-Joug-g-g-g-gaimu-u-u-u-u-san!" a thin, easily startled male classmate of his stuttered as the ex-Sexta entered the hallway.

Grimmjow shot him a devilish smile.

The nameless student disappeared quickly into the classroom.

—popular—

"There he is!" hissed one nondescript female to her friend in the hallway. "Jougaimu-kun! I think his muscles got even bigger than yesterday!"

He resisted the urge to stop and arrogantly flex in front of them. Damn straight.

—and overall well-received, even though some found him a bit intimidating.

"I heard Jougaimu-senpai beat the hell out of someone yesterday! A yakuza!" he overheard another student exclaim as he passed by.

He loved a good rumor mill.

"You really have a way with the student body here," Tia muttered, somewhat impressed by his attention. "What notoriety."

Yes, notoriety. Grimmjow liked that word. "So I'm fucking notorious," he said to himself with a wide, slightly menacing grin. With that smug attitude, he slipped into their classroom. Tia, meanwhile, tried not to roll her eyes as she followed.

Humans weren't so bad. Not bad at all.

. .

After school, Grimmjow bumped into Ichigo on the way to the locker area.

"Oh, hi," Ichigo greeted rather blandly. He seemed quite disinterested.

The upperclassman glared at him. Asshole. Too stubborn to let the shinigami be, Grimmjow decided to keep talking to him, since he just seemed so annoyed by his presence. "What's up?" he asked, following after Ichigo the rest of the way.

"Going home..." the orange-haired teen replied, craning his neck briefly to give Grimmjow an odd look. "Why?"

"Wanna train at the shop?"

Ichigo scratched his head, clearly confused as to why he was suddenly receiving so much attention from the former Espada. "... Uh, where's Tia? Aren't you always with her?"

"Where's that chibi you're always with?" Grimmjow asked, as if challenging him.

"..."

"Well, you takin' up on my offer?" The blue-haired man smirked, eager to fight. "It's not often I'm this nice, ya know."

"You call that nice? Good try." Airily, Ichigo stepped past him and opened his locker, gathering what he needed to take home; while, of course, ignoring Grimmjow.

Fucking asshole.

Grimmjow's own locker was on the opposite side of Ichigo's, so the blue-haired male decided to do the same. As he shut his locker again, he turned back to the shinigami, who was in the midst of sticking a notebook into his bookbag.

Despite his attitude toward him, Grimmjow really didn't have anything against Ichigo. In fact (even though he hated to admit it), he respected the guy.

However, he was well-aware of the stone wall that stood between them. The war was always left unspoken; not just the part about that princesa wreaking havoc, but a lot of things in the middle. He wasn't sure if it was because everyone was intent on moving on, or if it was because it was still a touchy subject in general.

Either way, he was going to get past whatever this blockage was. It was getting ridiculous.

"Hey, Dickhead," Grimmjow said from out of nowhere. "I got somethin' to say."

"I have a name, you know," Ichigo retorted.

"Whatever, listen."

"Do you want me to run my zanpakutou through you—" Ichigo stopped, noticing the oddly sullen and thoughtful look on the ex-Espada's face. With a wary look, he faced him fully. "Fine..." He gestured to the doors. "Let's walk."

The two exited the doors of the building, side-by-side. It was weird for Grimmjow to have his former enemy walking beside him so civilly—both unarmed and unglaring.

Grimmjow glanced around at the tranquility of the trees around campus swaying to the breeze, the laughter of happy human beings around him... these were a few things that couldn't be found in Hueco Mundo. There were a thousand scenarios that could have determined his fate—but he ended up in the living world, walking with someone he had once been determined to kill, and in a world he once blindly hated.

He found his blue eyes boring into the open gateway ahead, lost in thought.

"Are you gonna tell me what's on your mind or not?"

Grimmjow tsked, turning away, looking at anything but the shinigami in his company. "You could've just finished me off," he spoke up gruffly, not allowing his voice to grow soft in front of Ichigo. "Or even let Nnoitra finish me off. Hell, you could've done a lot of things."

Ichigo's gaze shifted as well; he remembered that fight... perhaps unwillingly.

"But in retrospect, you showed me some instance of honor. I guess now I realize that, you know... that's sort of respectable." Grimmjow cleared his throat. "... Thanks."

Ichigo rolled his eyes, but managed a small smile. "That's old shit, you know." His eyes fell on Grimmjow's, finally catching his light blue gaze. "Humans aren't so bad, are they?"

Grimmjow smirked, remembering that he had been thinking that exact thing earlier that day. This was a much better context, so far. "Not bad at all."

He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It felt good and light; much more so when he woke up in Soul Society with significantly less bone on his face.

The two continued walking, stopping outside the school on the sidewalk. The atmosphere between them became rather serene, like that stone wall had crumbled into pieces.

Ichigo looked off in the distance, down the sidewalk where he would eventually go home. "Oi."

Grimmjow was about to step off, to head in the opposite direction to the shop, but stopped when the shinigami called his name. "What?"

"Wanna hang out somewhere?" the orange-haired teen asked, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. He was avoiding looking at him in the eye, his brown eyes skimming the breaks in the concrete. "I don't have anything to do."

Rather than responding to the offer, Grimmjow sneered. "Did you... just ask me out?"

Ichigo looked mortified. "What? Hell no! Why does it have to automatically mean something like that? You don't even know what you're talking about!"

"It's because you looked fucking awkward doing it! Princesa looks like that when she hangs out with Ulquiorra!"

The doctor's son gritted his teeth with irritation. "The hell are you saying!" He whirled back around, intending on going home, after all. "Forget I said anything!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

The two fiery-tempered boys stomped off.

However, Grimmjow was soon intercepted by another.

"What's the matter, Grimmjow?" asked a smooth, familiar female voice. "Lovers' spat?"

Grimmjow nearly jumped out of his skin.

Tia approached him, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, although he suspected that she had been eavesdropping on him and Ichigo from behind the gate.

He scowled at her as she walked up to him, a small, amused smile on her face. He hated her sometimes. She always knew how to sneak up on him when he least expected it, and was always able to read right through him with those steady eyes. It was like he couldn't keep a thought to himself because she would just read it like a book.

He wondered if people with green eyes were always this annoyingly observant.

"What kind of bullshit are you spewing, bitch?" he simmered, his and her feet automatically taking them to Urahara Shouten.

Never affected by his anger, she chuckled and patted him on the arm. He recoiled from her, but she seemed to be used to such actions.

"If you actually let Kurosaki-san spend time with you, then things will become less awkward," she said. "I have trouble understanding why you misunderstood his intentions, though."

"Well, since you were spying on me, anyway," Grimmjow said with an eyeroll, "you should already know why."

"... That's a poor excuse."

They came upon the first intersection, but rather than waiting for the light, Tia almost stepped into the road even though the crosswalk signal was red.

The fuck?

Grimmjow shot his hand out to grab her arm, gruffly pulling her backward just as a car sped past them, right where she would have been standing if not for his intervention.

"The fuck's wrong with you!" he growled, glaring down at the woman with him. "Didn't you see the damn sign?"

His heart nearly popped out of his chest.

Tia, for once, expressed heartracing surprise from her near-brush with death. "I apologize," she muttered softly. "It seems that I think too much when I walk."

"Well, quit it." He let go of her abruptly, embarrassed that he was actually touching her. It wasn't normal of him to make physical contact with anyone unless it was for sparring. "Thinkin' about what, anyway?"

"Some ways you and and Kurosaki-san could better your relationship," she replied softly. "You are both quite—"

"Tia..." he sighed loudly, with disapproval.

She gave him a sidelong glance. "What?"

He scratched his head and shoved a hand into his pocket, suddenly feeling awkward.

I'm no better than that orange-haired punk, huh?

He was often explicitly harsh with everyone else, including Tia, but she was still different. She was a protective figure to him. Always patient. She thought of others often—he guessed that fixing other people and helping them was her own way of atonement, although at times, it irritated him for some reason.

Sometimes, she just made him feel so selfish.

"... You need to think about yourself for once," he said quietly. It was rare for him to speak so mildly—he was all electric-blue fire, all the time. She knew this, too, which was probably why she didn't even say anything, only choosing to stare at him with confused wonder.

Grimmjow didn't want to look back at her, but he ended up doing so, anyway.

The shade of green in her eye color was better than Ulquiorra's. By far.

And then the light changed.

As if the silent and oddly tender moment never happened, they crossed the street. Things returned to normal.

But Grimmjow, for some reason, couldn't forget the few seconds where he felt both uncomfortable and pleased.