Sakura lay on the dirty, cold floor of her cell and tried not to move. When she moved, her whole body was flooded with intense pain, and if she could just lay still enough maybe the agony would recede and just could finally think clearly. Her captors had been happy to let Orihime heal her at first but it had been days since they'd allowed the younger woman to visit, and Sakura knew in her gut that this meant they were really going to kill her.

She didn't understand what they wanted from her. She hadn't been taken to see Aizen again, and it had seemed at first as if she was just the Arrancar's new punching bag. They'd beat her, mock her, and keep up the torture until she'd pass out. Then they'd wake her up and start all over again. It had seemed like random cruelty until she realised that they kept asking her about her brief foray into researching Aizen's past. Was it possible there was something about him that she could have stumbled upon? Were they merely mocking her fruitless efforts, or was there really some information out there that was a threat to Aizen? By all accounts, he seemed untouchable. Breathtakingly powerful, physically strong, and from a good family, it seemed unlikely that there could be anything about his past that could be used against him. But why ask, then? Why did that question keep reoccurring?

Sakura pulled her knees to her chest and turned her head to press her forehead to the cool floor. She felt feverish, and helpless. Tears slid down her grimy cheeks and she choked back a sob. She'd been a fool. She'd had everything and just thrown it away. When she thought of how ungrateful she'd been. . . . It made her stomach churn.

Aizen had said she was a sentimental fool, and she believed him now. He had accused her of taking the easy way by becoming emotionally attached to Seireitei and its inhabitants. Was that true? Had she really forgiven the Shinigami who had eradicated her kind, who had murdered her mother, or had she just allowed herself to forget? Did she really believe they could be redeemed or did she just long to belong somewhere, anywhere, so badly that she'd betrayed her mothers memory?

"God, no." She whispered, gritting her teeth and trying to push these heavy thoughts aside.

The door to her cell creaked open, and Sakura winced, her nerves thrumming as she prepared for another beating.

"Oh my god! Sakura!"

Unbelieving, Sakura looked up into Orihime's face and felt her heart flutter at the worry and compassion in her eyes. She fought back more tears and forced a smile.

"It's good to see you." Her voice cracked from disuse and she coughed as the act of speaking irritated her dry throat.

"You're dehydrated. You need fluids. Get her some water!" Orihime glared at the Arrancar who had escorted her, the melancholy Schiffer. He nodded his head, unblinking, and retreated, locking the two in the cell. Sakura wondered, not for the first time, if he was Orihime's official guardian, keeping her happy so she'd comply with Aizen's demands.

Orihime interrupted Sakura's thoughts with a gentle touch to her cheek.

"Oh my god, Sakura. What have they been doing to you?"

The older woman shook her head, grinding her cheek against the floor, unable to speak again. She thought that if she opened her mouth, she'd unleash the floodgates and lose it beneath that compassionate gaze. Orihime's eyes softened and her face looked angelic in the low light.

"It's okay. I'll take care of you."

Sakura closed her eyes as Orihime started to heal her, using her unique powers. She leaned close as she worked, and a few strands of her auburn hair brushed against Sakura's face. She smelled of soft flowers and clean clothes. The scent triggered memories inside Sakura's aching head, and she thought of all the times she'd walked along the pathways of Seireitei, breathing in the scent of cherry and apple blossom. She'd taken it all for granted, and now she'd never smell them again.

As Orihime's healing began to take effect, Sakura found herself growing intensely relaxed. It was as if Orihime was not just healing her wounds but soothing her mind. Feeling safe under her young friend's care, she allowed herself to slip into an easy sleep.

When she awoke, Orihime was holding a glass of water to her lips. Sakura drank deeply, and the cool water seemed like the most delicious, refreshing drink in the world. She sat up, taking the glass and downing it. Leaning her back against the wall, she looked at Orihime, who seemed subdued.

"Does the healing wear you out?"

Orihime nodded. "It's not like it does with you, but it still leaves me tired." She flashed a brave smile. "It's worth it, though."

Sakura looked away, swallowing a sudden lump in her throat.

"God, Orihime, I am so sorry."

The young girl's grey eyes widened.

"For what?"

"For everything. For not getting you out of here, for being a burden. They'll keep using me to get to you." Sakura met Orihime's eyes. "They can use me to make you give in to Aizen's demands."

The attractive teenager clasped her hands in her lap.

"I know that." Her voice was soft but her expression was determined. "But I won't do what he says. I just won't."

Sakura looked away, knowing that Aizen would find a way to force Orihime. With his unique zanpakuto and its illusionary properties, he could make you believe anything. Sakura frowned as her mind turned to his sword. Something had been bothering her about that but as soon as she thought this, the memory drifted away, and she was too tired and fraught to force it.

Turning back to Orihime, she examined the determined line of her jaw and her pretty face. It occurred to Sakura suddenly that Orihime was an orphan too. This realisation made her heart clench and her stomach churn. She'd only ever thought of herself, feeling sorry for herself, playing the role of the bitter, abandoned child, when Orihime, years younger than her, had faced the same situation with quiet dignity and unerring bravery.

Sakura opened her mouth to ask Orihime about her family, when the younger woman's eyes widened suddenly and she ran to the barred window, standing on tiptoes and straining to see out into the darkness of Hueco Mundo.

"He came, my god, he came."

She was breathless, her voice almost cracking with emotion. Sakura frowned."What? What do you hear?"

Orihime turned, her face alight.

"Not hear, feel."

She knelt before Sakura and grasped her hands, dropping her voice to a whisper.

"It's Ichigo. I can feel his spiritual pressure. He's here! And there are others with him!"

Sakura's heart seemed to stop and it took her a moment to speak. She hadn't felt anything.

"How many?"

Orihime frowned as if concentrating.

"Four, I think."

Her face was alight with hope and excitement, but Sakura frowned, unable to share her enthusiasm.

"But if you can feel it then surely the Arrancar. . ."

She trailed off as the door to the cell opened and Schiffer stepped in, flanked by two other Arrancar.

"Orihime Inoue, you are to come with me now."

Orihime frowned but stood to leave, squeezing Sakura's hands as she did so. As the door, she turned and caught Sakura's eye.

"It'll be okay."

The cell door slammed behind her, and Sakura was alone. She pulled herself up, using the wall as support. Orihime had healed her wounds but she hadn't eaten in days and was still weak. Slowly, she walked to the window and peered out into the darkness. Orihime had said she could feel Ichigo out there. That meant he was fighting.

Leaning her head against the bars, Sakura closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. Aizen's seal had numbed her but maybe if she concentrated, she could sense the spiritual pressure of her friends. She tried to quiet her mind, breathing deep, and waited. It took a while but finally she felt very faint pulses of spirit energy out in the darkness. She concentrated harder and they came in clearer. Gritting her teeth, she pushed against the seal, ignoring the pain this caused in her head, and tried to detect who was out there. There was Ichigo's weighty spiritual pressure like a bomb blast, and. . There! The fierce red pulse of Renji. Beside him she could make out the cool feel of Rukia, and there were two more. . . . She'd felt their spiritual pressure before but couldn't remember where. They weren't Shinigami, she could tell that much. So, surely, Ichigo's friends. That meant Chad and Uryu.

Sakura's eyes opened. Uryu. . . The young Quincy. She'd met him when the Bount attacked Karakura Town. He'd struck her as a sombre young man with a cool and collected manner, but she'd seen the anger burning in his eyes, and she'd known that beneath that cool exterior he hid an insecurity in himself and his place in the world. She'd immediately sympathised with the boy. After all, both their races had been wiped out by the Shinigami.

Sakura grasped hold of the bars in the window and squeezed them as a wave of anger and despair filled her. Uryu, Ichigo, Chad. . . Orihime's friends. Mere children compared to the ancient Shinigami captains and officers. They were the ones who came. Not Ikkaku, not Yumichika. Not Sakura's own father. Just Renji and Rukia who Sakura knew, she knew, where there to back up Ichigo. Not for her. No one had come for her.

Sakura gritted her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut. Not Shunsui, not Urahara, not Kenpachi, her captain. No. They hadn't come for her. They'd abandoned her. Clearly believing she was a traitor, they were leaving her here to die. But who had come? Ichigo Kurosaki. Orihime's friend. The teenage boy who had surprised them all, and kept growing more powerful. The one individual who held his unusual group of friends together. Hell, even Uryu put aside a lifetime of animosity to fight beside him.

A bubble of hysterical laughter rose in Sakura, and she threw back her head, laughing wildly, her teeth glittering under the strange lights and shadows of Hueco Mundo. Ichigo. . .He was the only one who had believed and never doubted in Orihime. The only one willing to fight for her.

Sakura's laughter ended in a pained sob and she pressed her face against the bars of her cage, ignoring the pain. She screamed into the night.

"ICHIGO!"