The Furthest Planet From The Sun

by Mahi-Mahi

He took her away...far from the warmth of the sun.

24. Chapter 24

..

…

CHAPTER 24

…

..

Orihime groaned in bed the next morning, feeling terribly ill. She should have known the stress of all the escalating tensions would leave her completely discombobulated. Now, her head was aching and her belly was utterly rolling with nausea. Despite feeling surprisingly hungry, just the thought of food was making her want to vomit.

Rolling out of bed, she made her way over to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Just putting something on her stomach helped and she sighed as she dropped the glass back onto the counter.

She needed to find her clothes and get in the shower, Ichigo would probably be wondering where she was…

Orihime froze when his name suddenly came to mind.

She had totally forgotten about Ichigo!

Her already squeamish stomach clenched at the thought of leaving him like that. She hadn't meant to stay away all night, but just the fact that she'd gone at all was deplorable.

How could she?

She felt like a total jerk.

Darting over to the bed, she clawed at the sheets as she searched for her nightclothes. She'd barely gotten them slipped onto her body when she ran for the door. The hard marble floor stung her bare feet as she scrambled out of the room, down the staircase and through the steep, looming corridors of the empty tower.

What if something had happened while she was away? How could she have been so inattentive? Not to mention insensitive.

Just as she rounded the corner that led to her hall, she could hear shouting and cursing, causing her heart to drop in panic.

She knew she never should have left him!

"Where is she?!" It was Ichigo's voice. She could recognize it as she approached her door, which only made her all the more concerned. "You moved her, didn't you?"

What if he had tried to start a fight? With that collar on him, she knew he wouldn't stand a chance against even the weakest of Hollows.

"Answer me, damn it!" she heard Ichigo hiss as she stepped over the threshold. Half expecting to walk into a disaster zone, a burning sense of anger filled her at the sight she was met with. Ichigo was on the left side of her room, his wrists bound with cuffs that were chained to the wall. On the opposite end, Ulquiorra leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, a blank expression on his face as he watched the boy closely. The more Ichigo kept fighting, the more the collar drained him, making him appear weak and exhausted.

"Kurosaki-kun?" When she called out to him, his head instantly snapped in her direction.

"Inoue?" He blinked at her sudden arrival. Unsurprisingly, his first reaction was to widen his eyes and blush at the sight of her in nothing but a pair of underwear and a nearly see-through tank. His eyes zipped away from her, his anger momentarily put on hold. Then, with a deep breath of relief that came with the knowledge that she was perfectly safe, he narrowed his eyes and turned back to her, all the while trying his best to keep his eyes locked on her face and not her scarcely covered body. The fact that the soft pink of her nipples were showing through was not helping his case. "Where did you go? I was worried sick about you."

Orihime wrung her hands together over her chest, unsure what to say. She was touched that he'd admitted to being worried, considering he wasn't usually the type for such confessions, but under the circumstances she could understand his reasons. It only ended up making her feel that much more guilty.

When several more moments passed without answer, her eyes darted over to Ulquiorra, whom she had nearly forgotten was in the room. He looked as if he were just as interested in her answer as Ichigo was, which was oddly unnerving.

Seeing that she wasn't going to be capable of replying anytime soon, Ulquiorra pushed away from the wall and made his way to the door. "Get dressed, woman," he said as he stepped out into the hall. "It's late enough as it is."

Orihime frowned up at him defiantly. "Why is Kurosaki-kun in chains?"

"Why do you think?" He stopped to address her. "He was causing problems. He cannot be left to roam the halls alone."

"You didn't have to put him in chains like some animal!" she protested, clenching her fists at her side. Behind her, she completely missed Ichigo's eyes widening in shock at her behavior around the dangerous Espada.

"Inoue…" Ichigo began uncertainly, half afraid she would incite some type of retaliation.

"Take them off him right now."

"Enough," Ulquiorra said, purposefully ignoring her demands. "Get ready, woman. I will be back in thirty minutes to retrieve you."

Orihime's chin quivered as her eyes began to glisten in anger. "And what about Kurosaki-kun? Am I supposed to just leave him here all day?"

"Yes." And then, just to add salt to the wound. "You've already left him here all night, if you haven't forgotten."

Apparently that had been the last straw, because Orihime turned on her heel and dashed for the bathroom, doing a poor job of hiding her ever shortening emotional fuse as she went.

Ichigo watched the scene silently, stunned to see Orihime - the kind, sweet and innocent girl he'd gone to school with - actually speak back to someone. For this man to provoke that type of reaction from her, there must have been a previous underlying conflict. Inoue didn't just randomly go off on people, even if they had hurt her friends.

"You're a real jerk, you know that?" he said, glaring at Ulquiorra as he merely turned his back on the room and left. Orihime was the meekest person he knew. He'd never even seen her lose her temper over anything. Hell, he didn't even know she had a temper. Granted, her little moment of anger was distinctly less…intimidating than most peoples'. The way her chin would crinkle up and her cheeks would turn red wasn't exactly menacing. But still…

Whatever the hell he'd just witnessed, it was clear it had been building between them for a lot longer than he'd been there.

---

Orihime internally seethed as she cracked another egg over the counter and dumped its contents in the pan.

She knew she shouldn't have gone to see him last night!

She shouldn't have slept with him again, the jerk. Probably sent him the wrong message.

How dare he have Ichigo chained up like that? It was bad enough he had to wear some collar like a dog. This was just too much. Really, too much.

Now, he wouldn't even let Ichigo out of her room. He had to stay cooped up in there until who-knows-when and she had to be the one to cook for him, as Ulquiorra said he simply didn't trust anyone else to the task. Since Ichigo had so many enemies there, she was the only one Ulquiorra believed wouldn't attempt to kill or poison him. As if that was supposed to be a comforting thought. Just thinking about the fact that someone could try to poison him the way they'd poisoned her prompted Orihime to grab yet another egg and slam it over the counter before slopping the goopy innards into the skillet.

Not only had Ulquiorra actually bothered to escort her to the kitchen, but he'd stayed with her, too. The abnormal behavior was nothing but a product of him keeping a close eye on her now that Ichigo was there. To think it took something like Ichigo's presence in Las Noches to make him spend more time with her, yet now she was the one who wanted 'space'; space that she wasn't getting at the moment. He truly thought she'd try to break Ichigo out if left alone for too long…and with good reason.

Of course she'd try to break him out!

She really wanted to give him a piece of her mind…that is, once she figured out what she wanted to say. Rather, how to say it without sounding extraordinarily unpleasant.

Ulquiorra stared at the woman's back as she grabbed yet another egg from the basket and cracked it over the pan. She stood in front of the stove, cheeks slightly puffed out as she tightened her white-knuckled grip on the spatula even further. She wasn't even looking at the meal she was currently burning to a crisp. Instead, she blindly stared into the wall behind the cooktop, glaring daggers at the paint.

Eventually, she was going to run out of eggs.

"Woman, do you intend to cook that food or simply burn it?"

At the sound of his voice, she seemed to snap out of her livid daze and looked down at the smoldering mess in front of her. Her hand was paused halfway above the pan, an egg poised in her fingers. Blinking in surprise at her spoiled breakfast, her shoulders sagged in disappointment when she realized how badly she'd spaced out.

"I ruined it," she said pitifully, as if the sight of the disgusting black and yellow concoction she'd created was enough to warrant all out depression.

With her eyes blurring from tears, she sniffled softly and continued staring at the charred mass.

"I'm sure I can fix it."

He already knew it wasn't the eggs she was talking about. They were clearly beyond redemption.

"I…I just need to…"

Ulquiorra said nothing as he watched her shoulders start to shake with more sobs. She'd been nothing but an emotional wreck ever since he'd brought that boy back. If this was the supposed strength of her heart, he'd vastly overestimated her strength. He'd known that if there was one person who could invoke an emotional reaction in the woman, it was that boy, and he couldn't help but be a little fascinated by it. Her smiles, her tears, her frowns, her ups and downs; all of it was becoming rather interesting to observe. It wasn't just her content moments that captured his attention. He'd never experienced that fluttering sensation in his gut that mortals often felt when he saw her smile or laugh, and he certainly held no desire to only view these more 'appealing' parts of her, least of all for the useless purpose of making her happy. No, it was more than that. It was everything; the good and the bad and the hideous. He wanted to see it all, her suffering and joy and pain.

There was so much more to her than just smiles and all of her childish giggles. Both her and the boy were drawing him in much further than he'd originally anticipated.

Seeing her now, however, sobbing over those stupid eggs, was making him begin to question just why he was so intrigued by her.

"Your tears are not helping anyone, woman," he said. "Crying is only a waste of time."

Orihime sniffled again.

"I know." She reached up and rubbed the back of her sleeve across her face to dry her eyes. "It's just…I never should have gone with you back in the Senkaimon. I should have had more faith in my friends. I'm sure they would have been strong enough." With a sigh, she turned and scraped all her burnt food into the trash. "If I hadn't been so weak, I would have been able to resist you until they could get to safety. But now, they're all trapped here in Hueco Mundo with me…and now Kurosaki-kun is…Kurosaki-kun is…" she trailed off, hardly able to say the words for the thick lump of guilt in her throat.

"Whether or not you resisted would have been irrelevant," Ulquiorra said. "You would have been taken regardless."

But at least I would still have my conscience intact, she thought sadly.

"I suppose you're right." She couldn't help but feel weary as she placed the pan back on top of the stove. "You're always right…"

She didn't say anything more as she tried to concentrate on cooking, not even bothering to make her usual cheery efforts at conversation.

When Orihime felt another unexpected dizzy wave hit her hard, she gripped the edge of the counter, her legs wobbling under her dangerously. She took in a deep breath to try and regain her balance, but found the air simply didn't seem to fill her lungs quite as much as it should have.

Why did she feel so exhausted? She just couldn't pass out again, not after that embarrassing fainting spell yesterday when Ichigo had been brought in. People would start thinking she was faint of heart, swooning over the slightest things.

She fought it hard, but she already knew she was going to go down. With a slight edge of panic in her voice, she turned to the one person she trusted to catch her.

"Ulquiorra," she called as her knees buckled.

She had no clue if she hit the ground or not. The only arms she felt around her after that were those of darkness.

---

Ichigo rubbed his hands over his face for the millionth time, feeling a type of fatigue come over him that had nothing to do with his lack of sleep and food. He didn't even remotely get any rest the night before. All night long, he'd stared at the back of the couch, his mind running over all the different ways he could possibly get out of this mess.

He'd only dozed off for a few minutes. Apparently that was plenty enough time for her to leave without him noticing or hearing. When he got up later that morning, only to find her bed empty and void, a terrible sense of fear came over him. He'd finally gotten her back within his sights and then lost her, sending him into a spiral of rage and concern; his usual default reaction to things that were out of his control. It was his fault for dozing off like that and he'd almost been too pissed at himself to even think clearly.

She may have spent a much longer amount of time in Las Noches than he had, but that didn't change the fact that he didn't trust a single damn one of them, at least not when it came to her life.

He'd instantly gone for the door, storming out of the room as he tried to focus his senses and track her reiatsu, but he'd always been so terrible at that sort of thing. Eventually, he'd caught a trace of something, though it was more troubling than comforting. Ichigo had been shocked to find it only a few floors up…the same place he'd felt Ulquiorra's spiritual pressure the night before.

He'd come to the only obvious conclusion; that bastard had taken her to separate them.

Ichigo had ground his teeth together to keep his fury at bay as he rushed out into the hall to go after her. He didn't make it three steps before Ulquiorra had appeared at the end of the passage, stepping calmly out from behind the corner of a wall like he'd been there waiting on him all along.

The asshole had sent someone to chain him up not long after that. Now, Ichigo sat with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up to rest his elbows upon.

That man was nothing but trouble, he could feel it in every bone in his body. His instincts would always start to tingle and flare around him, causing him to feel off balance and even a little fearful. His cold reiatsu was literally all over this place, lingering in the halls like a spider's web. It hovered in the air patiently, quietly alerting the man to any and all disturbances that passed through it. Ichigo had to wonder if Orihime even noticed it at all. Considering she didn't seem to be even remotely bothered by it, he would have to suspect she didn't.

That bastard knew every move he made inside the tower…he knew the second someone set foot in it and the second they left it.

Ichigo's chains rattled as he ran a hand through his hair, trying not to think much about Ulquiorra or the fact that his sick, deprived soul had been in charge of Orihime for god knows how long. He'd seen bruises on her earlier when she'd appeared in the doorway, most of which he could easily recognize were from fights, causing him to worry if she'd been beaten. Some of the other bruises, though…

Ichigo grimaced and deliberately shied away from the mental image of hickeys on her chest and thighs.

What if she had been raped? What the hell was he supposed to do? He was totally powerless right now. How the fuck was he supposed to talk to her about something like that…if at all? Then again, what if he'd been right to worry about her wavering loyalties? What if she…

Ichigo quickly shut off his thoughts, realizing the territory they were heading towards. It was a place where Orihime had no use for his protection, where she chose them over him, where he didn't know why he was here if she didn't need him, where she let that Arrancar touch her and use her and…and…

God, he had to get out of this place!

Ichigo's hands clenched in his hair, pulling on their roots to distract his wandering mind. It was just so damn quiet there.

He'd barely been there a day and he simply couldn't stand it! How the hell did she last so long?

He knew his fears about her supposed loyalty were entirely unfounded. She seemed just as steadfast as she'd always been, but that was little comfort in the face of reality; the reality that they were trapped there and he had absolutely no clue if the rest of their friends truly were alive or not. He'd lied to her about his confidence in the fact that he thought they were still safe. Hell, he didn't even know where Rukia was anymore.

They'd all been split apart and the thought of Rukia out there on her own worried him. Although he knew if any woman was strong enough to fend for herself, it was her, it still didn't detract from the fact that he was tearing himself up inside wondering where she was at or if she was alive.

The unexpected sound of the door sliding open brought Ichigo shooting to his feet, silently hoping it was Orihime. He'd been driving himself half insane in the quiet of the room, left with nothing but his darkest thoughts to keep him company. At least with her sweet disposition and heartwarming smile things might seem a little brighter.

However, when Ulquiorra walked in carrying an unconscious Orihime in his arms, Ichigo quickly rushed to the end of his chain.

"What happened?" he asked in alarm.

Ulquiorra didn't immediately answer, and Ichigo watched as he placed the girl on the bed with more gentleness than he truly thought him capable of. "She passed out," Ulquiorra said, barely acknowledging him.

"Is she going to be alright?"

"Ulquiorra," Orihime's voice called quietly as she reached out for the man's arm.

Ichigo frowned, once again not missing the lack of honorific. He wasn't exactly keen on bothering with respectful titles, but he'd always known Orihime to use the most polite, courteous manners with everyone she knew. To hear her speak Ulquiorra's name so personally was just…unsettling.

"Please stay, I don't feel good." She sounded weak, which only made him that much more concerned, and confused. Had she not just been on the verge of yelling at him only hours ago? Now she was asking him to stay?

"I have work to do," he answered plainly. "Get some rest, woman. I'll return later. If you're still unwell, I will take you to the infirmary."

Orihime sighed tiredly and released his sleeve. "Alright."

She seemed to immediately go to sleep after that and Ulquiorra turned away. Ichigo took a step closer to her bed, unable to reach it with his chains. He hated seeing her left alone like that.

"Can you at least unchain me?" He glared at the man as he left. "What if she needs me?"

Ulquiorra stopped by the doorway and cast him a disturbingly knowing sidelong glance. "I can promise you one thing, Shinigami…she doesn't need you," he said simply, as if this was something Ichigo should have figured out by now.

Ichigo felt his hackles raise, but held his tongue as Ulquiorra left them in silence.

Despite his dislike of the man, he couldn't help but wonder, what if he was right?

---

It had taken him some time, but Ichigo had finally dozed off against the wall, not that it was very comfortable. He'd tried to remain diligent and watch over the sleeping girl, but the stress and exhaustion had taken hold before he could even bother to fight it. Ishida had certainly been right when he said even in his spirit form his body would eventually give out without proper rest. This fact was only made all the more true with his wounds left untreated. If he wasn't careful, he'd probably end up with an infection on his hands.

Later that day, Ichigo's eyes slowly cracked open. He felt awfully stiff, his back aching from where he'd been forced to sit on the floor. Although his head was still hurting, the soft sound of quiet humming helped to soothe the pain, causing the room to feel unusually warm. It filled the air with a gentleness that he couldn't help but breathe in.

It had been a while since he'd felt anything that warm.

As he stirred, he noticed a blanket had been lain over him while he was asleep.

He could see the back of the couch in front of him and noticed the head of red hair peeking out over the top. Considering the bed was empty, he knew she must have gotten up sometime when he was out.

Standing up, Ichigo grimaced at the creaks in his neck and back.

With a wide yawn, he made his way over to the end of the couch to ask the girl if she was feeling better, stretching and tweaking his muscles as he went. When he glanced down and caught sight of some strange man stretched out on the cushions, his head resting soundly in Orihime's lap, Ichigo froze.

"Who the hell is that?!" he said much more loudly than he'd intended.

Startled by the unexpected sound of his voice, Orihime's head jerked up, only to quickly smile when she saw it was just him. The unknown man, however, didn't even flinch at the noise.

"You're awake," she greeted, her fingers having paused halfway through the man's wavy brown hair. Even under the odd circumstances, the sight of her sunny grin filled him with a measure of comfort that he was surprised to find himself soaking up like a sponge. "I'm glad you were finally able to get some rest." When he didn't say anything, she motioned over to the small table she'd moved closer to his limited area of confinement. "I brought you some food. I was worried about leaving you again, but I knew you must be getting hungry."

He was starving, in fact. Though, not nearly enough to eat her cooking.

"I'm fine." Ichigo continued to stare at the snoozing Arrancar. "Who is that guy, anyways?" he asked warily, lowering his voice.

Orihime giggled softly. "It's alright, you don't have to worry about waking him up," she explained. "Starrk-san can sleep through a lot."

Ichigo lifted an eyebrow. "…Starrk?" He wasn't sure why he sounded so skeptical.

Orihime merely nodded sweetly.

"Yes, he's one of the Espada," she said it so breezily, like it was nothing at all.

"An Espada?!" Now Ichigo really did look skeptical. Most of the Espada he'd seen were all ridiculously terrifying. This guy, laying on Orihime's lap and softly snoring like falling asleep on her was just an everyday occurrence, was not the picture that came to mind when he thought of 'Espada'.

Orihime pressed a knuckle to her lips as she suppressed another quiet giggle. "I know, he doesn't seem very intimidating, does he?" Looking down at his handsome face, she resumed running her fingers through his hair, each stroke amazingly tender. "I think he just comes here when he has trouble sleeping…Lilynette-chan can get a little rowdy." The fondness in her eyes was impossible to miss.

"Is he dangerous?" Ichigo asked seriously. He may be sleeping peacefully now, but what about when he was awake?

"Who, Starrk-san?" She looked puzzled that he would even assume such a thing. "Of course not. I've never seen him hurt anybody."

Somehow, Ichigo didn't entirely believe that. An Espada didn't become an Espada by not hurting anyone. Just the fact that she believed that spoke to her naivety.

Apparently embarrassed for unclear reasons, Orihime turned away as a faint blush touched her cheeks. "He's a little lazy sometimes, but he's actually really gentle."

As if speaking of him had stirred him from his slumber, a single gray eye squinted open to stare up at the woman above him. Noticing this, Orihime smiled down at him warmly, while Ichigo instinctually tensed up in preparation for a confrontation.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

The Espada's lackadaisical expression hardly changed as he watched a few strands of cinnamon hair fall into Orihime's face, the long tresses teasing against his neck and cheek like little feathers. Reaching up, he took one of the locks between his fingers and lifted it before his eyes for a casual examination.

"You smell like sex," he stated bluntly.

Ichigo nearly had a heart attack where he stood, his eyes bulging out of his head.

"It's kinda nice," he added, lightly rubbing her hair between his gloved fingers like he was just having a totally nonchalant conversation. Orihime's face, however, turned beet red and her pulse raced in mortification. "I never really noticed it before. It's kind of a turn on."

"What the hell?! You don't talk to a girl like that!" Ichigo balked, too appalled to really take in the gravity of the man's words.

At the sound of Ichigo's voice, Starrk tilted his head backwards to glance at him, apparently just noticing him. A long silence ensued, causing Ichigo to become all the more wary of the man.

"…who the hell are you?" Starrk finally said belatedly, taking the boy completely off guard.

Didn't he even know he'd been in the room the entire time? What the hell was with this guy?

"What do you mean, 'who the hell are you'?" Ichigo retorted. "What I wanna know is why you're in here in the first place."

"The mistress is quiet…I like it…so what?"

"Mistress?!" Ichigo barked. Ichigo himself had always been a bit too frank for most people's liking, but this was just shameless laziness. The man couldn't even be bothered to speak politely.

"You're that half-human, half-Shinigami kid, aren't you?" Starrk ignored his outburst and narrowed his eyes slightly, as if the knowledge in his brain was just beginning to surface. He didn't pay much attention in the meetings, in fact he didn't notice a lot of things, but he did vaguely recall seeing the kid a couple times through Ulquiorra's ability to feed mental images directly into the thoughts of others.

"Starrk-san, this is my friend I told you about, Kurosaki-kun." Orihime smiled nervously, still rattled by his candid words from earlier.

Another lingering silence fell over the room as Starrk's gray eyes continued to bore into the boy. It was something that Orihime completely missed, but Ichigo could practically feel the man calmly sizing him up, studying him from behind his lazy gaze.

He half expected something to happen in that moment, given the way he was looking at him. Instead, Starrk dropped the strands of her hair from his hand, and then promptly rolled onto his side and buried his face in Orihime's abdomen. "Whatever," he sighed as he wrapped an arm around her waist, breathing her in deep before almost instantly falling back to sleep, his other arm pillowed under his head. "Just keep it down. I'm trying to get some sleep."

Ichigo stood frozen, unsure whether to be offended by his dismissal, grateful that he'd been completely uninterested in causing trouble, or just outright shocked at the liberties that he took with Orihime…not to mention the fact that she allowed it, welcomed it even.

"This guy is supposed to be an Espada?" Ichigo scoffed.

Orihime chuckled gently. "Starrk-san is actually really nice, he's just tired." Ichigo could see that sparkle of kindness in her eyes. He could read it in the way she lightly twirled her pinky around the wavy brown locks that brushed against the man's jaw, and in the way she sighed dreamily as she watched over him. She didn't seem the least bit perturbed by the obvious Hollow mask wrapped around the base of his neck, or the hole that was in his chest. "I think he gets a little lonely sometimes."

Didn't she realize there was a terrifying creature lounging in her lap?

"I knew he was hiding here!" a young, feminine voice announced as the door violently burst open. The small girl that entered unceremoniously afterwards was hardly what anyone in the room had been expecting. With her platinum sea green hair and skimpy two-piece uniform, Ichigo was unsure what to make of the scrawny child.

With seemingly more energy than should be normal, she bound forward in just a few long strides and launched herself right onto the back of the sleeping Espada, straddling him with more force than necessary. When said man didn't even show any signs of stirring, she reached down, grabbed a fistful of his long hair and yanked his neck back at a disturbingly unnatural angle. Pulled from the comfort of Orihime's lap, Starrk's face contorted, his eyes snapping open in pain.

Even Ichigo outwardly winced.

"Wake up!" she ordered loudly, sounding utterly furious.

"L-Lilynette-chan!" Orihime fretted, looking torn between stopping the young girl and being too uncertain to intervene. "Y-you shouldn't do that…"

"You weren't in our room!" Lilynette began angrily, but even Ichigo noticed the hint of tears lining the lashes of her one visible eye.

"Damn it, Lilynette," Starrk cursed as he forcefully pried her tiny fingers from his hair. "That really hurt."

"Yeah, well you deserve it for leaving without telling me!" She seemed genuinely upset. "If you were going to see Orihime, why didn't you just take me with you, you big jerk?"

"Because you weren't there, either," he retorted as he dropped his face back into Orihime's lap, trying to go back to sleep by deliberately ignoring her.

"'Cause I was running an errand for Lord Aizen!" she glared into the back of his head, all the while doing a terribly poor job of hiding her escalating sobs. "You didn't have to leave! I would've been back soon!" She punched his shoulder once. "You were supposed to be there! When I can't find you…when you're not there, I…I'm…"

Sighing heavily, Starrk lifted a gloved hand behind him and tucked it around the back of her small head. She offered no protest as he pulled her down onto him. "Idiot," he said as she began crying softly. "I wasn't going to leave you alone."

"How was I supposed to know?" She sagged against him, nuzzling desperately into the crook of his neck.

"Stop acting like a kid, it's annoying." He yawned, not sounding the least bit annoyed.

With her cheeks red from crying and her lips pouted, Lilynette turned slightly to glance up at Orihime. "Can I sleep with you guys?" she asked shyly.

Orihime felt her heart melt, her expression of shock having long since wilted into one of tender understanding. "Yeah." She nodded once. "Of course you can."

Lilynette sniffled as she burrowed deeper into Starrk's back, angling her body just enough to partially wedge herself snuggly between Orihime and the man beneath her. The apparent emotional turmoil had taken all the spunk out of the girl, causing her to doze off relatively quickly.

Ichigo said nothing as he watched the sleeping pair bury themselves into the young woman as deep as her physical form would allow. The happiness on Orihime's face was utterly radiant, pouring from her reiatsu and warming the air around her. Her fingers lightly wiped away the tears that had begun to dry on the child's cheeks, soothing her further.

They all looked pretty ridiculous piled on top of each other like that…but Ichigo couldn't help but be glad that Orihime didn't have to be miserable in this place, after all. She'd clearly found some joy, even here in the darkness of Hueco Mundo. Enough so for her to thrive and grow, rather than wither and fade. He knew if anyone could have seen some light in this godforsaken land, it would have been her.

Still…it worried him.

He couldn't shake the feeling that Orihime didn't truly know what she was getting into.

These were Hollow. They were Espada.

Ichigo knew all too well that nothing good would ever come from associating with them. Hollows caused pain, whether intentionally or not.

That happiness that she'd found simply couldn't last…not in a place like this.

---

There wasn't a place on Ishida's body that didn't hurt. He could hardly move from the pain and just breathing seemed to bring him woes of misery. Cracking his eyes open, the only thing that came into view was the splintered ceiling of the cavern they'd fought Grimmjow in.

How long had he been out for?

"Hey," Chad's familiar voice said from beside him.

Turning his head, Ishida took in his friend's large form sitting against the wall next to his head. He looked just as heavily injured as Ishida felt, his shaggy hair even messier than usual. His clothes looked torn and his spirits low. Between them, Renji's unconscious form lay in the dirt.

"What happened?" Ishida asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

"Grimmjow knocked us out," Chad replied, his head hanging in defeat. "I was barely able to pull you and Renji to safety before the place collapsed."

"Collapsed?"

"Yeah, part of the cave fell in." Chad motioned to the partially damaged wall to their left. "Thankfully, they intervened and helped get us out before it was too late." His eyes gestured to the pack of Hollows that had been following them around since arriving in Hueco Mundo. Pesche and Dondochakka were currently trying to soothe a despondent looking Nel, who had tears in her eyes.

"I guess they really are good for something, after all." Ishida tried to make light of their situation.

"They took Ichigo, Ishida."

The soberness of Chad's voice completely wiped away the small smirk on Ishida's face.

"That can't be possible," he breathed in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

"He's gone."

"But…why?"

"I don't know," Chad said, sounding very tired. "Ishida…I think maybe we should retreat for now."

"What?" The Quincy struggled to sit up, fighting the pain. "We can't do that now. Inoue is counting on us and now Ichigo is too."

Chad merely shook his head. "We can barely walk, Ishida. I think my leg is broken…and I don't know about Renji. He hasn't moved once since I dug him out of that rubble. Those packs Rukia provided us can't handle our wounds, plus we're running out of rations. We're sitting ducks, especially down here in this forest. Bawabawa has managed to scare off most of the Hollows with his size, but soon they're going to realize he can't protect us forever." He paused for a moment, as if to prepare himself for what he was about to say. "We're going to die down here if we don't get out soon."

"But Rukia is still here, we need to look for her."

"Don't bother, I'm right here," the sound of her voice caught both of them off guard and they turned to see the petite Shinigami female striding up to them, a stranger by her side. "Hey, guys."

"Rukia," Ishida said and Chad sighed quietly in relief, both of them glad to see she was okay. "It's good to see you. I'm glad that you're safe."

"Thanks, sorry for worrying you."

"Who's with you?" Ishida asked.

"His name is Ashido, he's actually a Soul Reaper like us."

"A Soul Reaper?" Ishida sounded slightly surprised.

"Yes, he saved me and he helped me get up here to the exit." When she glanced down to her wounded comrade, her face shifted into an expression of worry. "What happened to Renji?" She stepped forward and knelt by his side, noticing the rest of their conditions as well. "You guys look pretty roughed up. Are you alright? Can you move?"

"Probably not without help," Chad answered, knowing his leg simply couldn't support his weight. Ishida wasn't much better off.

"Hey…where's Ichigo?" Rukia glanced around, searching for that shock of brightly colored hair.

Ishida sighed. "It's a long story."

Before he could relate the events of their day, the loud shriek of Hollows filled the air, reminding the group of the forest's ever present dangers.

"Damn it." Ishida clenched his fist, realizing he wouldn't be able to fight in his condition.

"They don't give up, do they?" Chad said wearily.

"We can't fight them like this."

"We need to get you guys out of here." Ashido stepped forward, breaking his silence. "It's not safe here."

Ishida eyed the man warily, unsure if he wanted to trust some strange Shinigami he'd only just met. Even so, Rukia trusted him…that would have to be enough for now. They were in a jam and needed help. "Pesche, do you think Bawabawa could carry us to someplace away from here?" he called out to the Hollow. He was still trying to comfort the distraught child, who couldn't seem to stop crying about 'Itsygo'.

Pesche turned to him, his hand on the small girl's back as he nodded once. "No prob, bad guys!" He gave them a thumbs up, the gesture completely inappropriate considering the circumstances.

Ashido gave the Hollows a distrustful, narrow-eyed look before turning away, apparently holding his tongue concerning whatever it was he'd been on the verge of saying about them. "Come on, we can't waste anymore time here. I'll show you to my hideout."

Rukia helped them onto the beast's back one by one, making sure to assist Chad in loading Renji up first. They were on the move in no time, Bawabawa following the redheaded Shinigami's lead.

"Ichigo is gone, Rukia," Ishida said, breaking the dreary silence.

Rukia's eyes widened, a jolt of disbelief rippling through her.

"He got taken by the Arrancars," he explained. "We were attacked by Grimmjow, the one who fought you and Ichigo in the living world. There was another one there as well, but they were both too powerful for us to beat."

"How are you still alive?"

"I don't know." Ishida leaned his elbows forward on his crossed legs, trying to ignore the pains in his battered body. "I think that second Arrancar was trying to keep him from killing us, though I don't understand his motives. They'd be better off with us dead."

Rukia looked away, staring into the dense wall of dead trees that rolled by.

"I'm sorry we couldn't protect him," Chad admitted quietly.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, shocking them both with a dismissive scoff. "Ichigo will be perfectly fine. He can take care of himself."

Ishida smiled at her steadfast belief in the young man.

"If anything, they'll regret bringing him in." She smirked. "That boy is really nothing but trouble. They'll be dying to get him out of their hair in a week's time…two tops."

"You're probably right." Chad couldn't help but smirk, as well.

Their group may have been fractured again, but they knew that so long as they had faith, things would always turn out for the better.

---

Orihime flipped through the pages of her book, searching for the place where she'd last left off. It was one she'd gotten from the library a while back and she'd read through it one too many times. She'd like nothing more than to take it back and grab a new one, but she wasn't entirely willing to leave Ichigo in her room for as long as the trip would take. She knew he didn't need a babysitter, but with him so defenseless, she just didn't want to risk it.

She wasn't feeling particularly tired, especially considering she hadn't really done anything of worth that day, but she'd still rather not stay up all night long fighting fits of boredom. Peeking over the top of her book, she frowned at the sight of the untouched platter sitting on the other side of the room. Ichigo still hadn't eaten the food she'd brought him. It seemed the moment he realized she'd been the one to cook it, he'd done everything in his power to pretend he wasn't famished. She tried to convince him to eat something, as she was worried about what Ulquiorra would do when he realized his prisoner was refusing food. Ichigo had merely scoffed at her warning, rambling on about how little he cared about Ulquiorra's interest in his eating habits.

As it was now, he was laying on the couch, sound asleep. After she'd seen how uncomfortable he'd been on the floor, she'd helped him push the sofa back against the wall to where he could actually reach it. The mere fact alone that he was sleeping again was troubling her. She could tell his head was still hurting him, but at least the giant bruise that had been creeping across the side of his face had finally stopped.

He couldn't have been getting any real rest, not with his injuries still bothering him.

Even though she was deliberately trying to avoid Ulquiorra, perhaps she should ask him to take Ichigo to the infirmary…

The hushed scrape of her door sliding across the floor pulled Orihime out of her thoughts. Thinking it was Ulquiorra, she lifted her eyes and briefly reminded herself that she was on protest until he removed Ichigo from those chains.

However, as the door creaked open, it stopped at only a small crack, letting in just a tiny slice of light. Orihime tilted her head curiously, wondering at the peculiarity of it.

Slowly, a slender hand slipped inside, curling its finger at her in a decidedly mischievous come hither manner.

Orihime blinked at the hand.

"Ulquiorra…?" she called hesitantly and received no answer. "Grimmjow-kun? Wonderweiss-san?" Her brow crinkled when the hand didn't respond to any of the names.

As slowly as it emerged, the hand disappeared, slithering out of sight like a snake.

It was only seconds later when it returned…and dangled prettily between its thumb and forefinger were her barrettes.

Orihime gasped at the sight of them, confusion flitting through her mind.

"W-who's there?" Closing her book, she placed it down and hesitantly slid out of her bed. One of her hands ran nervously over her footboard as she stared at the hand, trying to decide what to do.

Whoever it was didn't reply, only continued to tempt her with her fairies. She knew better than to give in. Whatever they were up to, it was obviously no good. The thing was, she could really use them to help Ichigo…

"I…I'm not falling for that." She lifted her chin stubbornly, trying to incite a response. "You'll have to do better than that."

A quiet snigger.

At the sound, a small light of recognition lit Orihime's eyes. Stepping closer to the door, she leaned over, trying to see through the crack and get a glimpse of the person on the other side.

"I…Ichimaru-san?"

As she drew nearer, the hand withdrew, taking her hair clips with them. Suddenly afraid that she'd lost a chance to get them back, she rushed to the door and pulled it open. The hall was empty when she looked out, but as she glanced both ways, she noticed the same hand at the end of the hall, peeking out from behind the corner and flourishing her hairpins at her enticingly.

"H-hey!" she called as she ran after the hand, frustrated to find it retreating again.

After several more failed tries to catch up, Orihime had to stop to catch her breath, suddenly realizing she had no clue where she was. Actually, now that she'd taken a moment to get her bearings, she noted that she was getting pretty close to the arena.

What on earth was she doing there?

"Didn't anyone ever teach you not to take candy from strangers?" a voice whispered against the back of her neck, the seemingly elusive hand magically slipping in front of her to hold up her precious hairpins.

Orihime shrieked and spun around, nearly jumping out of her skin.

"Ichimaru-san!" she huffed up at the grinning man, ignoring the way he chuckled at her reaction. "It's not polite to give people a scare like that." She crossed her arms and pursed her lips, trying to appear stern. Her heart was still hammering away from the fright.

"Really?" He slid around to her side. "I thought it was quite fun."

Orihime could already feel her frown threatening to pull up. She never had been able to stop herself from smiling around him.

"Ya know, you're much too easy to manipulate, Hime-chan." He smirked near her ear.

"Perhaps. But there's also easier ways to get me out of my room." She returned his smile, watching him from the corner of her eye.

"Oh, you're very smart, aren't you?" He pinched her cheek, causing her to squeal in protest. "But would you really have left that room with your dear old Kurosaki-kun still trapped in there?"

"Ichimaru-san! I obviously came out here for my hairpins!" she managed to say against the pull of his fingers, to which he only laughed at her distorted words. "Please give them back."

"Ah, ah, ah," he tsked as she made a grab for them, forcing him to release her cheek. "You're much too impatient."

"And for good reason…" She started to blush, seemingly embarrassed for no remarkable cause. "Give-"

A finger was abruptly pressed to her lips, silencing her. "Rangiku was always like that, too." He leaned in close, causing Orihime's heart to leap at the mention of the woman's name. "No patience whatsoever…"

For a moment, something akin to pity flickered through her eyes.

Did he even realize what he'd just said? That was the one name she could never manage to mention around him, no matter how hard she tried.

"She really misses you," Orihime whispered against his finger, and suddenly he was the one to grow still. "I think she still wants to believe in you."

There wasn't a sound in the air, only the silky feel of her lips under his touch.

"You shouldn't talk about things you know nothing about, Hime-chan," he uttered just as quietly, his voice lacking its usual wicked edge.

Orihime closed her eyes, suddenly feeling very sad. "I may not know a lot about you, Ichimaru-san…or why you're here." She reached up to carefully touch his wrist. "But I do know that Rangiku-san still loves-"

"Do you know why you remind me so much of her?" He cut her off, apparently unwilling to hear the words. Slowly, his hand slipped from her lips to dip into her hair, his fingers surprisingly gentle as he leaned down close to her. "It's not the way you look…" he said as he smoothed his lips over her shoulder, his usual grin absent. "It's not your hair or your figure or even that bright look in your eyes that she used to have at your age…it's your laugh."

Orihime felt heat rising to her face, her skin tingling as his starlit hair brushed her cheek. She'd never even known she reminded him of her in the first place. "My…laugh?"

He hummed in answer.

"Every night, Ran-chan would go to the same bar in the Seireitei," he murmured each hushed syllable against her as he slowly edged his way up her neck. "Same place, same seat, same people…she'd smell of perfume and sake, and all the guys would stare at her." He smirked against her as he reached up and tugged down the collar of her cloak, allowing him to trace over the soft flesh and dark love marks there. "Just because it amused me, I'd lean in and run my lips over her neck…and she'd laugh for me…" His lips imitated the motion, teasing just under her ear. Orihime instantly giggled and curled her shoulder up, laughing at the delightful tickle that filled her belly. "Just like that."

"Ichimaru-san!" she cried sweetly and Gin closed his eyes, soaking it in. He tried to imagine the smell of sake on her, or the musky scent of a bar and even the heady aroma of perfume…but Orihime smelled far too fresh and innocent to be a substitute for Rangiku.

She called him 'Ichimaru-san' and not just 'Gin'. She didn't sleep next to him at night or kiss him in the mornings like Rangiku did, though he was often tempted, if not for the sake of getting under Ulquiorra's skin, but for the sheer want of making her cry out his name.

Her kindhearted naivety was something Rangiku often lacked, but despite the horrible man that he was, they both still showed him trust and an inhuman amount of compassion. Here in this dreadful place, he was just shameless enough to take advantage of that without a hint of remorse.

Even if Rangiku did still love him, he'd never get her back. He knew he didn't deserve her…neither did he deserve the girl currently in his arms. After all the terrible, depraved things he'd done - the things he'd done for Rangiku - he knew what fate awaited him. He killed who he wanted, hurt who he wanted, stepped on who he wanted; he didn't care. He held no remorse for his actions because it served his purposes. He'd done it all for Rangiku, but only out of selfishness, rather than selflessness.

He was a truly awful man.

Nothing more than a snake, really.

She'd hate him were she to ever learn the things he'd done in her name, for the sake of her future. Perhaps, for once in his life, he would do the right thing and leave the two women alone.

Still, he really couldn't resist…

Closing his lips around the little pressure point below her ear, Gin lightly sucked at the soft flesh. Orihime froze, her hands clenching against his jacket.

"I-Ichimaru-san?" she swallowed nervously, pushing faintly against his chest as she tried to lean away. "W-why are you-?"

He loved the way she whimpered like that.

When he pulled away, he ran his tongue over the mark he left behind, smirking wickedly and taking a twisted sort of pleasure at the thought of leaving his own stain amongst Ulquiorra's. He really hoped the man would notice it. Unfortunately, even if he did, Gin understood him well enough to know it wouldn't incite any real reaction. Like Gin, Ulquiorra wasn't exactly the jealous type. That didn't mean he couldn't remain optimistic and hope it annoyed the hell out of him.

Lifting his hand, he smoothly tucked both her hairpins over one of her temples.

"These are just on loan…" he sniggered quietly against her ear.

He could see the blush on her face and the haze in her eyes when he leaned back, her lips still parted slightly.

Really, she was such a pretty little thing.

"Come, the Captain's waiting for ya," he said as he turned and began to walk away.

"The…Captain…?" she breathed fuzzily, dazed in the face of the seamless shift back into his usual demeanor.

Gin paused and grinned at her over his shoulder. "He's got a surprise for ya, Hime-chan. You should hurry up or I'll leave you behind." He was pleased to see her feet finally carrying her after him.

Yes, this was definitely going to be an eventful night…

---

"Wake up, boy."

Ichigo frowned at the voice and rolled over, trying to ignore it. His head was seriously throbbing and all he wanted to do was sleep until it was better again. When he didn't respond any further, a cold hand wrapped around his ankle and flipped him off the couch.

Ichigo cried out as he rolled onto the floor, landing facedown without an ounce of dignity or grace.

"What the fuck?!" he growled as he kicked his tangled blanket away. When he rolled onto his back to glare up at the culprit, only to find Ulquiorra's indifferent face looking back at him, Ichigo's dreadful mood plummeted even further south. "Are you out of your mind? What's your deal?"

"I told you to wake up," Ulquiorra answered unflinchingly.

"Yeah, well excuse me if I don't give a shit." Ichigo pushed himself back up to sit on the edge of the couch. "I'm not going to do something just because you tell me to. Besides, there's better ways to wake someone up than just throwing them to the floor."

"Your comfort is not my concern." Ulquiorra stepped over to the metal plate on the wall that kept him chained in the room. After entering a short code into a small keypad, the cuffs around Ichigo's wrists fell off.

Surprised, Ichigo rubbed at the chafed skin on his arms.

"Come." Ulquiorra turned to the door, re-pocketing his hand as he went.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Lord Aizen has summoned you."

"And if I refuse to go?"

"You will not," Ulquiorra stated plainly, as if he already knew Ichigo would obey.

"What makes you so sure?" Ichigo scowled.

"Because the woman is already there with him." At this, Ichigo's eyes darted over to the bed, only to find it empty. "If your conduct thus far is anything to go by, you will go simply because of your overbearing desire to protect her, despite the fact that she has survived months here without you."

Cursing under his breath, he stood up from the couch and reluctantly followed his warden out of the room. "You really piss me off, you know that?" Ichigo glowered at his back.

Ulquiorra didn't respond, which only encouraged Ichigo to grumble under his breath in frustration.

"There was some weird Arrancar in our room earlier…why didn't you do anything about it?" he asked. "Don't you think that's a little irresponsible?"

"Starrk is hardly a threat to the woman."

"I think that's beside the point."

"What you think is irrelevant."

"Don't you have anything other than passive aggressive insults to say?"

"Don't you ever stop talking?" Ulquiorra responded fluidly, not once raising his temper or even glancing back to address him.

Ichigo grimaced.

What was with the self-control on this guy? Even the way he walked was perfect…in a refined, intimidating sort of way. He held himself with a casual type of confidence. It wasn't arrogant or haughty, rather composed and surprisingly aloof. He carried himself with pride, but in a manner that was unobtrusive. His back was straight, but not ridiculously so, and his shoulders were relaxed. There was no hurry in his step, yet he moved as if he always knew where he was going. Even his insults didn't sound like insults. It was a little annoying, really.

Ichigo's eyes searched for any clue in his mannerisms that might allude to the man being a fighter, but he found none, despite the fact that he knew all too well Ulquiorra was perfectly capable, almost frighteningly so. He seemed more machine than man. Every enemy he'd ever faced, even Byakuya, had some sort of tell. He could always see it in the way they moved, down to the sound of their footsteps. But Ulquiorra was different. When Ichigo had briefly faced him in the Menos Forest, he hadn't been able to read a single one of his moves. It was terrifying.

How could one fight a foe like that? How could you defend against an attack you could never see coming?

At least he knew Byakuya had some sort of emotion in him, he simply restrained it for the sake of being a pompous ass. With Ulquiorra, though, Ichigo couldn't sense anything.

What really got under his skin, though, were those eyes. Rather, the way those eyes looked at him. All that poise and composure melted away into the background when Ichigo met Ulquiorra's eyes. There was something decidedly miserable about them. They looked at him like they could see inside him, making him feel naked and vulnerable. However, it was when Ichigo looked back into those eyes that he really got chills. Because where he expected to see a spark of something, a flicker of personality, there was only nothing.

Evacuated of all that was life, Ichigo began to wonder if the man even had a soul at all. He seemed so far removed, even from his own kind. At times, he appeared more like a mannequin; like some type of still life that Aizen tugged all the strings to.

The man was literally all black and white, there were no shades of grey in between…only those eyes.

How did Inoue stand him all these months? She was just so full and vibrant and warm. Yet this guy was so thoroughly withdrawn from everything that Inoue represented that it was almost torturous to attempt to compare them in any way. He'd been her warden all this time…how had their personas not clashed? After so much time, one of them should have broken by now. Forced to endure each others' company, two creatures at such opposing ends of the spectrum, they'd both be drawn in and repulsed by each other all at once. Even Ichigo could see the danger in it.

It was nothing more than a disaster waiting to happen.

"Where did you take Inoue the other night?" Ichigo narrowed his eyes at the back of Ulquiorra's head. "I could sense her with you." That was a lie, Ichigo couldn't sense the location of his own ass if he tried. He'd only been able to tell Ulquiorra and Orihime had been in the same general vicinity, but he wasn't about to admit to that. "What were you doing with her?"

"That is none of your concern."

"The hell it isn't." Ichigo's expression darkened. "Now tell me."

Ulquiorra spared him a lingering look over his shoulder. "Does it bother you?"

"Yes," he answered firmly, with no hesitation at all. "I won't let you hurt her."

"And I suppose you believe you could stop me?" Ulquiorra didn't sound the least bit concerned.

"If you so much as look at her the wrong way, I'll kill you."

"How excessively violent…" Ulquiorra directed his gaze back ahead of him. "You never fail to leave me unsurprised, Ichigo Kurosaki. Although, I should warn you that your threats are meaningless," he offered calmly. "You would have no hope of defeating me. There is nothing remarkable about you, other than that you are remarkably unexceptional."

"Get over yourself." Ichigo sneered. "You're avoiding the topic."

"Am I?"

"Yes. Now tell me what you were doing with her."

"The woman is property of Lord Aizen, the matter is out of your hands," Ulquiorra said levelly. "Your concern is misplaced as it is. She is one of us now. Her loyalties are no longer with you."

"Property of Aizen?" Ichigo scoffed indignantly. "I can't help but wonder how upset 'Lord Aizen' would be if he found out his property was in his soldier's room all night long." It was barely there, but he caught the slight stiffening of Ulquiorra's shoulders. He wouldn't have seen it if he hadn't been looking for it. The sight of it caused a sinking sensation in his gut, just thinking his accusations could have been true.

"Are you attempting to threaten me…Ichigo Kurosaki?" Ulquiorra asked, sounding impressively intimidating and somehow completely calm at the same time.

"I'm attempting to keep Inoue safe."

"Would you kill for her?"

Ichigo froze. Shocked by the sudden question, he stood in the middle of the hall, staring incredulously at Ulquiorra's back.

Stopping as well, Ulquiorra turned back to trap Ichigo in the clutches of his gaze.

"Just what the hell kind of question is that?" Ichigo swallowed, half confused, half aghast. He just got very uncomfortable, very fast.

"Allow me to rephrase," Ulquiorra continued, and then with dead seriousness, "Would you kill me for her?"

A shiver ran over Ichigo's skin, appalled. Just how was he supposed to respond to something like that? What kind of person would even ask that of someone? Taking a deep breath, Ichigo tried to avert his eyes.

"I'm not going to answer that."

"But you already have," Ulquiorra said. "'If you so much as look at her the wrong way, I'll kill you.' Were those not your own words?" Ichigo clenched his jaw, annoyed by how well Ulquiorra knew how to manipulate the things he'd said. "I suppose the real question is, are you capable of following through with your threats? Or are they merely empty?" Ulquiorra seemed unperturbed by how hard Ichigo was attempting to avoid the subject. "Rather…what would it take to push you to that point? How far would I have to go to make you despise me…"

"I already despise you," Ichigo hissed quietly.

"No, you merely dislike me," Ulquiorra corrected him. "It is obvious I could submit you to any number of tortures and your disposition would remain stubbornly unchanged. However…should I touch the woman…"

"You're despicable!" Ichigo snapped. Without realizing it, he'd given Ulquiorra the exact reaction he'd been expecting. "Whatever it is you want, just leave Inoue out of it. Don't drag her into your twisted game just to get a rise out of me!"

There was a long moment of silence where Ulquiorra studied the boy in front of him, making Ichigo want to shift uncomfortably. The quiet manner in which he was looking at him, as if trying to methodically pick apart his brain piece by piece, was unnerving.

"You humans are such an emotional species. You believe I will obey simply because you demand it? How ridiculous."

"And you're just as ridiculous if you think I'll quietly give up because you tell me to." When Ulquiorra only turned away to continue down the hall, Ichigo remained stubbornly in place. Even if the man disgusted him to no ends, he had to try to reason with him. "Listen, I'll stay here for as long as you want, just let Inoue go. If you free her, I…I'll do whatever you say."

"What a naïve view you have of the world," Ulquiorra remarked, unimpressed. "You also seem to have quite the grandiose perception of your own self-worth."

Ichigo sighed, feeling a little exhausted and defeated by the whole conversation. "No, I just want to keep my friends safe." Still unmoved from his place in the hall, he ignored Ulquiorra's steadily retreating figure and turned to lean back against the wall. He distantly wondered how long he could get away with staying there before the man forced him to move, but then he thought better of it. He really didn't want to push his luck. Instead, his shoulders sagged slightly as he glanced over to watch Ulquiorra's back. "I'll tell you my answer."

"I already have your answer, Ichigo Kurosa-"

"No," he said and watched with a small sense of satisfaction as Ulquiorra paused, apparently having not expected his reply. "My answer is no. I wouldn't kill for her."

With eerie slowness, Ulquiorra's head turned to glare at him over his shoulder.

Calm and sincere, Ichigo continued. "I'll do anything to protect her, but I won't kill, least of all in her name." With a shrug and another sigh, Ichigo crossed his arms and reclined further back against the wall. "Besides, she would never-"

"She would never ask you to kill for her," Ulquiorra finished sternly, sounding just a little more callous than usual.

Ichigo's eyes widened in surprise, his gaze darting back over to his warden. How did he know what he was going to say? Had…had he and Inoue had this conversation before? He could easily imagine Inoue giving him the exact same answer.

Deliberate and cold, as if he intended to prove a point, Ulquiorra turned and strode back to Ichigo, moving in uncomfortably close. Ichigo tried not to appear anxious or flustered as the man came in until they were nearly toe to toe. It took everything in him not to lean further back into the wall, but it took even more not to turn away from those eyes.

He peered into him with a certain level of purpose, and when he stopped before Ichigo, the fact that he was shorter and even just a tad bit thinner, all faded away. In that moment, he seemed a bit crueler. It wasn't a deliberate type of cruelty, like the way Grimmjow toyed with him in their battles. It was more subtle, like all those vacant spaces in his eyes spoke to the emptiness in his soul, preventing him from feeling either pity or remorse or anything. Ichigo knew a merciless man was a heartless man…and a heartless man was a ruthless man. Without the faintest touch of compassion, there was nothing there to care about hurting or killing or lying, making him far more crueler than any one person could ever purposefully intend to be.

Hollows were monsters, left with nothing but the basest of human qualities; small, but they were there. His warden lacked even this, making Ichigo truly wonder if there was even a drop of kindness or humanity in this man.

"Something you and the woman seem to continually forget," he said, voice as smooth and cold as a winter's breeze. "Is that you don't have to be asked to kill…to want to kill." Reaching up, Ulquiorra's slender fingers carefully touched the bruise along the side of Ichigo's face. When Ichigo flinched at the slight sting, Ulquiorra quickly snatched his hair up in his hand, preventing him from looking away or retreating. "And there are many ways I can make you want to kill. All of your meaningless human reservations, all of your petty preconceptions of pain will mean nothing by the time I am through with you."

His fingers tightened in Ichigo's hair. "You think I can't see that darkness inside you when you fight? You think I don't notice all that evil festering under the surface when you pull out that mask of yours? You're more like us than you can ever imagine, Ichigo Kurosaki…you just don't know it yet."

His eyes cut like knives, giving Ichigo pause. Fight or flight started to kick in, but never one to back away from a challenge, Ichigo growled and forcefully slapped Ulquiorra's hand away. Leaning down until he was nearly nose to nose, he met Ulquiorra's gaze head on.

"You think that scares me?" he uttered quietly, his voice harsh and low. "I am nothing like you. And you'd do well to remember I'm not Inoue: you can't intimidate me and you won't control me. I've seen worse than you, Ulquiorra. You. Are. Nothing."

"We shall see…" Ulquiorra said as he tucked his hand back into his pocket and continued down the hall. "Come, Lord Aizen is expecting you."

Ichigo remained in place for several long seconds, hoping to put some distance between them before following. He tried to hide the way his hands were shaking, but just watching that man walk away from him so calmly after such a conversation, his coattails swaying lazily behind him, it was difficult. He wanted so bad to rip the collar off his neck and show him who should really be afraid of who.

Once again, he found himself asking; how did Inoue stand him all this time?

---

Something about this wasn't right.

Gin had brought her to the arena again, which was rather off-putting. Perhaps she wouldn't have minded so much if it wasn't for what had occurred there the last time this had happened. He took her to the same place, up high to that platform that overlooked the stadium.

She froze at the top of the stairs, seeing a decent handful of Espada and fraccion surrounding the throne. She didn't have to look to know Aizen sat in it, but what really confused her was the lack of an audience. There was no crowd of Arrancar like there had been last time. Save for Aizen and the Espada, the place was completely empty.

Was this some type of meeting?

Something inside her told her she needed to return to Ichigo. Whatever this was, she didn't want any part of it. The last time she had been in this place, with all these Hollows gathered like this, she'd witnessed terrible things. Things she'd tried very hard to forget. She honestly just never wanted to think about it again.

Yet, there she was, placed in this situation again.

Only this time, she realized Ulquiorra was nowhere to be seen.

"What's the meaning of this?" She turned to Gin. He only smiled. "Where's Ulquiorra?"

"He's a little busy right now." He took her arm and began to usher her forward. "But don't worry, he'll join us soon."

Orihime jerked her elbow free. Her eyes quickly scanned over him, then all the Espada, the back of Aizen's throne, before she looked back to Gin. "No…" Shaking her head, she spun on her heel and made to leave. "I…I'm going back to my room."

"Orihime." Aizen's voice stopped her in her tracks, almost like he had eyes in the back of his head and could see her every move. "I think this is something you might want to stay for." She could hear the smile on his lips. It made her very nervous.

"I'd really rather not," she uttered under her breath.

"I'd really rather you would," he said, making it clear she had no choice on the matter.

Clenching her hands in her skirt, Orihime glared at the floor. For a moment, a spark of resentment flared inside her. She had an infinite amount of patience, but even she was tired of being controlled by that man. Even though she had a relative amount of freedom, nothing she ever did was allowed unless it had been approved by him. Cooking her own food, leaving the tower, wearing certain clothes; he controlled it all. Now, she couldn't even walk out of a room because he'd apparently decided he wanted her to stay.

Lifting her head, she cast one last pleading glance to Gin. When he offered her no resolution, Orihime took a deep breath and straightened her spine. Silently rebelling with every step, she made her way over to the little platform that still sat by Aizen's throne, set up just for her. With as much pride as she could muster, she lowered herself onto its cushioned surface. When Aizen casually held his hand out to help her into her seat, she boldly ignored it.

Chuckling quietly, he merely dropped the proffered hand back onto the arm of his chair.

She stared stubbornly forward, but inside she was battling an emotional storm. She wanted nothing more than to plead with him not to make her watch whatever gruesome spectacle he was going to show her, but she held her tongue. She had survived the last horrible display he'd forced her to sit through. This couldn't possibly be any different.

An involuntary shudder ran through her as she thought of that ridiculous execution he'd called a 'trial'…the way that man had screamed under Ulquiorra's hand…

Orihime quickly began to fan herself with her hand as a hot wave of nausea suddenly overcame her. She had tried hard to not to recall anything about that day. In fact, she had completely forgotten the whole ordeal, what with the issue of Ulquiorra's supposed death immediately following it, the entire matter had slipped her mind.

Orihime reclined into the arm of Aizen's throne, waving her hand a little faster in an effort to cool herself. Just the memories were making her sick. She really didn't want to be there. That place was making her think about unpleasant things, coming face-to-face with harsh facts she often tried to bury. She'd been to that arena many times since that day, but she'd never been forced to sit in that spot and rethink the whole ordeal.

Smooth fingers, only faintly accented by soft calluses, gripped her chin and lifted her head.

"Is something the matter, Orihime?" Aizen asked as she met his gaze. Her face was a little pale and her cheeks much too red, but there wasn't even an ounce of concern in his eyes. "You seem unwell."

Orihime dropped her hand as she gave up on trying to cool her heated flesh. With a defeated sigh, she looked away. "No, I'm fine."

"Good." He released her and sat back in his throne. "I think you're really going to enjoy what I have planned. I put this little show together just for you."

She had no interest in what he had planned, but she tried to sound polite. "I…I'm very flattered." In the end, she only sounded tired.

Desperate to distract herself, she let her eyes wander the Espada spaced throughout the dais. None of them were standing too closely to each other, some of them even looked outright bored. There was a certain air about the scene that was just a little daunting, even with half of them appearing so casual and uninterested in what was going on around them. Strong and unapproachable, with all of them surrounding their untouchable master; the display of power was painfully obvious.

She caught a glimpse of blue hair and turned to see Grimmjow sitting broodingly at the edge of the rafters, looking none too happy to be there. His usual cocky smirk was gone, replaced by an unpleasant scowl. One of his elbows rested atop his knee, his foot propped up on the ledge as he stared blankly down into the empty arena.

Sensing her stare, he turned his glower towards her. Their eyes met and for a brief moment, something in his gaze softened. She could still remember the way he'd thrown her into that wall the other day, but that wasn't what came to the forefront of her mind as she looked at him now. All she could think about was how he'd gone out and tried to kill Ichigo, resulting in his subsequent capture.

She'd known he'd hurt both Ichigo and Rukia in the past. Really, it was foolish of her to think he wouldn't do so again. He'd practically described to her in great detail all the different ways he'd love to dismember Ichigo's body, on a very frequent basis. He'd never given her any indication to believe he wouldn't hurt her friends.

Her heart reacted to the softening in his eyes, but the rest of her couldn't help but be a tad bit bitter.

Hardening her own gaze into her best impression of aloof indifference, she looked away and stared ahead of her, ignoring his presence. She didn't notice the way his face sank into a harsh grimace as he turned back to glare into the arena.

Unable to stop herself, she dared one last glance at him from the corner of her eye. Taking in his form, she noticed the deep red lacerations on his back. They peeked out from under his jacket and even extended past his Hollow hole. A spark of worry flickered inside her. Had he been punished for what he did to Ichigo? Usually Aizen just pummeled him with unbearable amounts of reiatsu, but this was different.

She fought the urge to ask if he was in pain. She hated seeing people in pain…

It wasn't long before action down below caught everyone's attention. The sound of large, heavy doors slowly scraping open filled the area, pulling her focus to several different sections of the walls. At least ten different gates were pulled up, the creak and rattle of their chains surprisingly loud.

Orihime watched on as several different Hollows made their way out into the pristine white stadium. Some came bounding out like ravenous beasts, while a few others merely ambled out progressively, looking as if they didn't even know where they were at.

Orihime pressed a hand over her mouth as her brow twisted in revulsion. The mindless, ravenous way they snapped and growled at one another spoke to the fact that they didn't even seem capable of recognizing their own kin. Each one looked as if they had been an Adjucha at one point, but their scarred, altered bodies and animalistic eyes indicated changes had been made to them. There was nothing inside them but pure, vicious instinct.

Appalled, she glanced over at Aizen, as if her accusing eyes alone could somehow condemn him. "What have you done?"

With a tedious sigh, he reached out and wound a strand of her hair around his finger. "Really, my dear, how many times must I tell you, I find it exceedingly tiresome when you frown." Tugging the fiery lock closer, he slid it smoothly across his bottom lip in that way he always did. "You're so much more beautiful when you smile." The charming tilt of his smirk was so mocking it almost hurt to look at.

"What do you think, My Lord?" Szayel said as he stepped up beside her. "Do you like them?"

Aizen's expression didn't change as he looked up at the Espada, casually releasing her hair. "Yes, Szayel," he answered. "You did very well. You've really outdone yourself."

Szayel gave a low chuckle, the sound filled with the utmost air of arrogance and self-gratification. "Thank you, My Lord," he said as he brushed a few rosette colored strands out of his face. "It is a shame the first batch had to be destroyed, but they were much too wild." He sighed dejectedly and Orihime suddenly realized what he was talking about.

"You…experimented on them?" She looked at him in disbelief. "Your own kind?"

Szayel chuckled at her. "Would you prefer I experiment on humans?"

Orihime looked back to the warped creatures hissing and snarling below them. The sour, acidic sting of bile began to rise in her throat as she watched one of the larger beasts lunge a much smaller, weaker one. It pinned it down and with a single, merciless bite from its teeth, it ripped the howling monster's throat out. When the larger Hollow proceeded to devour its prey, several of the others closed in, lured by the scent of blood and death. They pulled at the deceased's arms and legs, trying to get a piece of their own as the larger barked and snapped at them viciously to keep them off its kill.

The blood was everywhere, the sight of the limp, gnarled Hollow almost too much for her to stomach. She pressed her hand harder over her mouth as her face scrunched up in horror.

"Is that pity I see in your eyes, madam?" Szayel's amused voice was beside her ear. "Could it be that you actually feel compassion for these lowly beasts? They are still Hollows, you know."

"What did you do to them?" she uttered, unable to take her eyes off the scene despite the morbidity of it.

Szayel chuckled again. "How interesting. You seem to have the impression that the nature of the Hollow is anything but what is in front of you." He readjusted his glasses, a habit she didn't understand considering they were the remnants of his mask; a part of him that was immovable. "All I did was rearrange a few of the body parts…perhaps tinkered around in their brains a bit," he added the last part like he could hardly contain his elation. It was pure insanity, lingering there at the edges of his voice. "Does the sight of them repulse you, madam? A human pitying Hollows…you are really so very fascinating." He slowly began leaning closer, his eyes fixated on her in a most disturbing fashion. "How wonderful it would be if I could just pick that brain of yours apart…"

A single look from Aizen stopped him. With a sigh, he straightened back up and dropped the subject, clearly disappointed.

When another door began to open at the other end of the arena, Orihime frowned, not sure if she wanted to see any more of Szayel's sick creations. The sound of the latch unfastening was enough to grab all the Adjuchas' interest. They lifted their heads from the sloppy, gruesome remains of their victim, staring on as the panel slowly rose up.

Orihime's face literally turned white when the door gradually began to reveal a figure standing behind it. She swallowed hard as she noticed the distinctly human pair of feet that came into view, followed by the pale hakama…and then the familiar face of her fellow prisoner.

Ichigo flinched back slightly at the brightness of the arena that hit him, the room he'd just come from having been much darker. He lifted his arm to shield his eyes as he adjusted to the light, looking slightly confused.

"Kurosaki-kun." Orihime was instantly on her feet. Panic began to set in when she saw he still had on that collar…and no sword in sight. "You can't do this!" She turned desperately to Aizen, her eyes large and frantic.

Ignoring her presence, Aizen leaned back in his throne to watch the show. "My Espada, take a good look," he announced to his subjects. "This is Soul Society's last hope."

Still standing in the open doorway, Ichigo blinked several times and dropped his arm. He looked a little lost, like he had no idea what he was doing there or why. With as huge as the arena was and as high up as they were, he didn't seem to even notice them. Instead, he turned back to the darkness, apparently trying to figure out what was going on.

She hated how small and alone he appeared. It made her want to scream in anger.

This was nothing more than a ploy to humiliate him, to show him off to the Espada and demean him like some kind of joke.

Nnoitra scoffed from where he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "This is what everyone's been so worked up about?" He was watching Ichigo closely, the frown on his face showing just how unimpressed he was. Taking in his surroundings, Ichigo cautiously stepped outside the dark passage. "This is ridiculous." Nnoitra pushed away from the wall, his bracelets jingling as he dropped his arms. "I'm getting out of here."

Nobody seemed to protest his departure. Orihime herself barely noticed. All she could stare at was the way those Adjucha began to creep closer to him.

"No, Kurosaki-kun!" She rushed forward, ready to jump right off the dais if she must. A large, muscular arm suddenly appeared in front of her, pulling her back without effort.

"Not so fast, red," Yammy chuckled, clearly enjoying her plight. "You're gonna stay right here and watch."

Orihime didn't even spare him a glance as she reached out to her friend. Down below, Ichigo had finally seemed to spot the danger. He saw the large pack of Adjucha stalking closer to him and quickly turned back to the room he'd just come from. As soon as he did, the gate dropped shut, trapping him inside the arena with no way out.

"Please, I'll fight them, instead," she called to no one in particular. Desperate for help, she turned to Grimmjow, pushing hard against the arm that still held her back. "Grimmjow-kun, please! Help him!" He didn't look up. He only continued to keep his glare fixated on some invisible spot on the ground. "Please, you know he can't fight them like this! He can't even defend himself! Is that really how you want to win against him?!"

Grimmjow glanced at her for a lingering moment from the corner of his eye. Her own eyes pleaded with him, hoping for some type of sign that he'd lend the boy a hand.

Not saying a word, he merely broke their stare, his shoulders sagging as he turned his head away.

Too worried about Ichigo to feel disappointed about Grimmjow's refusal, Orihime struggled and squirmed until she was able to duck out of Yammy's arm and race the rest of the way to the edge of the dais. She disregarded the large man's complaint, focused on nothing but her friend's plight.

She watched as Ichigo slowly began to realize there was no escaping his dilemma. Gathering his nerve, he turned to glare at the group of Hollows creeping closer. His eyes hardened and his stance altered slightly, his body becoming tense and rigid.

Orihime knew it was hopeless when she saw how their mere presence was beginning to affect him. With that collar on, their combined spiritual pressure alone was weighing down on him like an anvil. Soon, they had him backed up against the wall and surrounded on all sides. He fought hard to stay on his feet, but it was simply too much and it wasn't long before he fell to his knees.

The largest of the Hollows, the very one that had attacked and devoured its comrade, sauntered forward. Blood was still fresh on its mouth as it hissed and snapped at the rest of the pack, pushing them out of the way as it came upon the boy. Ichigo panted and gasped against the wall of reiatsu, but never once took his eyes off the beast. He stared it down defiantly, too prideful to even consider giving up even in the face of imminent death.

Her mind became fuzzy with concern as she witnessed the Hollow lunge at him. It seemed to take all of Ichigo's strength just to roll out of the way. The last second move had saved his life, but the Hollow easily swiped its arm at him, hitting him in the shoulder. His body went flying off to the side, barreling through the thick swarm of Adjucha.

Orihime cringed when he cried out loudly, falling back to his knees and gripping his shoulder in pain.

"Oh, no," she breathed, realizing its claws had struck right where he'd been injured by Grimmjow. Along with the fresh tears it had inflicted, it had also reopened his wound. She clutched at the material over her breast as she watched the blood quickly begin to soak through his white uniform and pool on the floor. His face was twisted in a grimace and his form was hunched over as he struggled with the pain, leaving him distracted and defenseless.

"Kurosaki-kun! Look out!" she shouted, trying to warn him of the Hollow running up behind him.

Her voice had his head jolting up in surprise. With surprised eyes, he looked up to the rafters.

"Inoue?" Ichigo's brow drew down in confusion at the sight of her. He hadn't realized she was there. He hadn't realized anyone was there.

He started to try to stand so he could call out to her, but when he allowed his eyes to drift from her form to all the figures standing atop the platform with her, some of them lounging around on different levels of the rafters, he felt his body halt from shock.

At least half a dozen humanoid beings surrounded her, possibly more.

He could barely make out the features of most of the beings above him, as the majority of them were shrouded in shadows, too far away for him to even see clearly. The profiles of Grimmjow, Gin Ichimaru and those two Arrancar that had been sleeping on Inoue's lap were the only recognizable shapes.

Quite suddenly, he remembered something disturbingly foreboding that Toshiro had told him back in the living world.

"The grim truth is that these Vasto Lordes are believed to be even more powerful than the Soul Reaper Captains are. If Aizen now has more than ten of those Vasto Lordes under his control…then the Soul Society is doomed."

There were so many of them, but the troubling thing was…somehow he knew that wasn't all Aizen's army had to offer.

He felt dismayed at the realization. He'd never expected Aizen and his cronies to be an easy enemy, but how were they supposed to fight this? The spiritual pressure in the room was dense, but he'd failed to notice it before with all the Adjucha trying to kill him. However, now that he was paying attention to it, he could feel their terrifying presence like a ten ton weight waiting to be dropped on his head.

He could sense all of their eyes watching him, judging him, and at the center of it all, Aizen sat smiling down on him, as if he knew exactly what he was thinking and was absurdly pleased by it.

Ichigo knew then what the man was up to. The whole charade was a display of power. He was showing part of his hand, but not the whole deck.

They were an alarming sight and if there truly were more of them, then Ichigo began to wonder just how he was going to successfully get Inoue out of Las Noches when he couldn't even save himself from a bunch of Adjuchas.

"Kurosaki-kun, behind you!" Orihime yelled more insistently, clenching her fists as she tried to snap him out of his daze.

Unexpectedly, white hot pain exploded through his body.

Before he knew what hit him, he'd been thrown to the floor, but he had no clue how he got there. There was a sharp sting in his back and he knew he had to get up soon or the Hollows would surely kill him. He had nothing to defend himself with and as long as the collar stayed locked around his neck, he would remain frustratingly weak.

Orihime's heart lodged in her throat as she watched Ichigo struggle to get up, only to have a Hollow pin him back to the ground with its massive paw. Just the weight of it bearing down on him caused him to groan, all the air leaving his lungs as it crushed him. Her mind raced to find a way to free him. She would undoubtedly be punished for offering him help, but she didn't care. She didn't have to think twice.

Her first instinct was to heal him, but she knew that would do him no good at the moment. She needed to get that collar off him. The only issue was that she wasn't entirely sure how to do that. She could always send Tsubaki out to cut it off him, but her aim never had been very good and the targets she usually attacked were much bigger. Not only that, but would cutting it off even work? Rather, could she cut it off?

Ichigo's scream of pain ended all thoughts on the matter.

"No!" Orihime cried at the sight of the Hollow biting down on his leg. Blindly she went to take a step towards him, forgetting that she was already at the end of the platform. A rush of adrenaline and fear flushed through her system when she felt her foot drop into open air, causing the rest of her body to lurch forward.

A firm hand suddenly grabbed her arm, stopping her from falling.

She looked up just as Grimmjow proceeded to pull her back, astonished to realize he saved her. He let her hold onto his own arm as he straightened her up, allowing her to regain her balance.

"At least give the brat a fair fight." Grimmjow turned to Aizen, a frown still plastered on his face. "If you wanted him dead, we could've gotten rid of him without having to deal with all this fuss." There were easier ways to go about it than this. There was no point in going through all this trouble, and everyone there knew it.

"A fair fight?" Aizen said. "Am I to presume you are concerned for the boy?"

"Hardly," Grimmjow scoffed and then diverted his eyes, his words only exhibiting just enough defiance to make his point but not come off as challenging. "I just don't want to see my prey defeated at the hands of some pathetic experiments. I'd rather be down there fighting him myself, but in his current state he wouldn't exactly be much of a challenge, now would he?"

Aizen made a sound that almost resembled a chuckle. "No, I suppose he wouldn't." Below them, Ichigo screamed again and Aizen sighed. "Gin, bring the boy his sword," he relented. "I suppose it isn't very sporting when he's so weak."

Orihime didn't even hear them. All she could see was the bloody mess that had become of Ichigo's leg. His hakama had been completely torn and stained red, soaked by his own blood. What remained of his flesh was terribly shredded, mutilated under the Hollow's unforgiving teeth. Its paw continued pushing down on his back, keeping him pinned as it snarled at the rest of the Adjucha like some animal guarding its meal.

When another door along the wall of the arena was opened and Ichigo's Zanpakuto was tossed unceremoniously into the room, Orihime feared it was already too late. The blood loss alone had weakened him considerably. She watched as the blade skidded across the floor before finally coming to a stop, much too far out of Ichigo's reach to be of any use.

"Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime pulled away from Grimmjow and dropped to her knees at the ledge, as if that could somehow bring her closer to him. "Get up! You have to get up! You have to fight back!" she urged.

She knew, more than anything, that he was stronger than this. Her heart raced as she watched him resist the heavy weight bearing down on him, his arms shaking as he tried to fight against the large, clawed hand on his back.

For Ichigo, the image of Orihime's faraway form was blurring fast as he struggled to lift his head, his eyes searching out the familiar color of her red hair. His leg hurt like a bitch, but the sound of her voice reminded him just why he couldn't give up. She needed him…she had been a prisoner for so long, waiting for him to rescue her. He couldn't die now that he'd finally reached her.

Gritting his teeth, Ichigo tried to summon his reiatsu. He felt it thrum through his body, hot and violent and filling his blood. He concentrated hard, striving to overcome the thick compression of the collar suppressing his power. The muscles in his arms quivered as he simultaneously strained against the Hollow holding him down.

Just as he felt that small ounce of strength return, it was ripped right out of his reach. He collapsed back onto the ground, panting and gasping in pain and exhaustion.

"Kurosaki-kun! Please, you can't give up!"

"Inoue…" he breathed against the gritty floor. He'd never realized how much he depended upon his spiritual pressure until now. He was so useless without it.

"Kurosaki-kun!"

Her voice kept calling out to him, but he was just too tired and she was starting to sound so distant…

The Hollow bit down on his leg again, and he was fairly sure the bone cracked, but it had been so ravaged that all he felt was blissful numbness and vague pressure. He'd lost a lot of blood and his vision felt hazy, but he could still see the dim silhouettes of the rest of the Hollows closing in on him, too drawn by the scent of blood to be held off by the larger Adjucha any longer.

His Zanpakuto was nearby, of that he was certain. His soul could instinctually sense it and he couldn't help but desire to feel its weight in his palm.

Blindly, his hand reached out towards it, even knowing he'd never be able to grasp it. Hell, even if he could reach it, he'd likely never be able to pick it up. With all of his strength repressed, it would be too heavy for him to lift.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could still hear Orihime's voice. It kept getting louder and louder, ever more frantic by the second.

He managed to lift his eyes to her one last time. She was leaning over the edge of the dais, like she was about to jump right down into the middle of all this mess. He couldn't make out her words, but the look on her face was positively desperate.

"I…Inoue…"

Grimmjow was suddenly there behind her, grabbing her roughly by the arm to pull her away from the ledge. She fought against his hold, but he only yanked on her harder.

That deep, protective part of Ichigo ignited at the sight. He could see her lips moving, calling out his name, even as Grimmjow wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet to carry her away.

Something in his brain snapped.

He couldn't let them harm her. He'd kill all of them before he'd ever let that happen.

His own thoughts alarmed him, making him wonder if maybe Ulquiorra had been right about him all along…

Growling low in his throat, Ichigo clenched his fists and once more began pushing against the floor. He refused to give up, even if Ulquiorra was right.

She needs me.

With all his might, he forced himself to ignore the pain and rise up against the weight on his back. His muscles swelled and popped as he put all of his willpower into breaking free, sweat beading on his body from the immense strain.

She needs me.

His reiatsu began to surge through his body, building like a storm.

She needed him…and he'd be damned if he let some collar get in his way.

At the unusual rise in energy in the room, Grimmjow's arm loosened around Orihime, allowing her to slide back down to her feet. Too stunned to notice her new freedom, Orihime continued to cling to the arm around her waist. She looked on, astonished, as the reiatsu in the air just kept climbing and climbing…and climbing.

"Kurosaki…kun?" she uttered, partially in disbelief.

"There's no way." Grimmjow's eyes were wide as he watched the boy. The collar should have kicked in by that point. It should have sucked out every bit of his strength, but he just plowed right through it like it was nothing.

No, that wasn't right.

The collar was still zapping it, but the kid's spiritual pressure just kept pouring out like a flood. There was just so much of it, feeling more akin to a deadly fire than any sort of energy.

All that reiatsu, it couldn't be contained.

Slowly, a grin tugged at the corners of Grimmjow's mouth.

Ichigo Kurosaki truly was an interesting brat to have around.

Suddenly, the reiatsu in the room doubled. The air around their prisoner began to distort, shimmering in a way that almost numbed the mind. With an impressive battle cry, a dangerous burst of reiatsu exploded outwards, throwing several of the Hollows off the boy.

Orihime winced as the shockwave blew her hair and clothes back. She felt her ankles go weak under the pressure and clung harder to Grimmjow's arm just to stay upright.

Down in the arena, everyone watched on as Ichigo gradually got to his feet. Lifting his head, his hard eyes locked straight on one person. Orihime followed his gaze, a sense of dread settling in her gut when she realized he was staring directly at Aizen, glaring at the man with a look that sent chills down her spine.

Instead of looking upset, Aizen had a smile on his face, as if he were very, very pleased about something.

Reaching up, Ichigo grabbed the collar around his throat and, with one harsh yank, ripped it from his neck. Around him, the Adjucha had fallen back to a distance, suddenly unsure in the face of a being that had been far more powerful than originally expected. Ichigo paid them no mind as he began limping forward, hardly taking notice of the pain in his leg. He didn't once take his eyes off the man. Much to her horror, neither did Aizen.

Even dragging his mangled leg behind him, the threatening aura around Ichigo didn't diminish. Rather, it grew stronger with each staggering step he took.

When he smoothly bent down and scooped up his sword along the way, Orihime suddenly began to understand just exactly what it was he was planning.

He was going to attack Aizen head on.

"No…" she breathed in alarm.

He couldn't be that foolish. Aizen was inconceivably powerful, not to mention he was currently surrounded by a generous handful of Espada and their fraccion. Ichigo, in contrast, was already heavily covered in injuries, two of which were still bleeding profusely. He could barely lift his sword. She believed in Ichigo with all her heart, but there was no way he stood a chance in an event like this. Even if he did manage to attack Aizen, the repercussions for him, a prisoner, would be disastrous. He would no doubt be punished, if not outright killed.

"Aizen!" Ichigo's shout was deep and powerful as he launched himself towards the man. He leapt off the floor, charging through the air with his sword poised to strike. A black vortex of spiritual energy formed around him, the density of it unimaginable.

"Kurosaki-kun…" Her eyes widened when she realized too late the gravity of the situation. "No! Don't!" she screamed, frantic to stop him.

Orihime had no desire to go against one of her dearest friends, but in that moment she made a decision. She didn't debate it in her mind, there was simply no time for that. She would deal with the repercussions later. For now, she needed to keep Ichigo safe, even if that meant protecting him from himself.

Wrenching herself from Grimmjow's arms, Orihime ran forward, throwing herself directly between Ichigo and his target. Her eyes reflexively squeezed shut as she called on her shield, half expecting a painful collision.

Instead, all she heard was the crystalline jingle of her barrier shattering like glass.

When Orihime opened her eyes, she suddenly wished that she'd kept them closed. Sparkling golden shards fell between her and Ichigo, his sword held poised and unmoving against the space where it had struck her shield. He was staring at her, a look of unfathomable betrayal piercing her right through the heart.

He didn't move, only continued to stare at her like she was some stranger he'd never met.

Orihime suddenly realized what she'd done…and what her actions must have looked like to him.

It had seemed like she was protecting Aizen, choosing him over Ichigo.

"I…Inoue?" He sounded so confused.

Orihime shook her head softly, ready to deny it all. She was beginning to regret her decision to interfere, but couldn't he see she'd done it for him? "No…I didn't…" Her words were cut short when she heard Aizen stand up from his throne behind her. She didn't notice him approaching her until she felt the soft stroke of his hand on her cheek.

"Thank you…Orihime." Aizen's voice was pleasant as he reached around and gently angled her chin towards him. She didn't once take her eyes off Ichigo as she felt the brush of his chest against her back, or the light press of his kiss against her cheek. "Remind me to reward you later for being such a good girl," he said against her hair.

She felt like a fool, like she'd played right into their game.

"Restrain him," Aizen ordered as he stepped back from her.

At his command, Harribel and her fraccion moved in. Ichigo didn't once resist as the blonde woman took his sword from his hand, her three female companions pushing him to knees. He still wouldn't look away from her as they placed a new collar around his neck, though she was beginning to wish that he would. She couldn't stand that questioning dip in his brow, or the disappointed gleam in his eye.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered meaningfully, hoping he would understand why she'd done what she'd done.

"What shall we do with him?" Harribel asked.

"Take him to the infirmary," Aizen answered as he turned away. "Gin." His eyes motioned to Orihime, silently reminding him to retrieve her hairpins.

Orihime didn't protest when she felt Gin's hand come up and collect the barrettes one by one, taking back what he'd claimed were 'on loan'. It suddenly occurred to her that all this had been set up from the beginning, why else would Gin have given them back to her?

"Sorry, Hime-chan." He grinned, not sounding sorry in the least. "But we can't have you healing Kurosaki-san, now can we?" he said as he plucked the last flowery pin from her temple. Heal him? Of course they'd never let her do something like that. They wanted to keep him weak and defenseless and in pain. It made her sick just thinking about it.

Gin didn't seem concerned with her lack of reply, nor did he stick around. He merely stalked away, smiling mischievously as he caught up with Aizen's retreating figure.

With a couple impatient jabs, Apacci urged Ichigo back onto his feet, grabbing his arm to roughly pull him up. He staggered slightly, his leg in serious need of medical attention.

"Kurosaki-kun, please…I-" Orihime reached out and stepped towards him, but stopped herself with a gasp when he finally looked away from her, turning his head like he didn't want to hear whatever excuse she'd been about to pour on him. He limped away, allowing the three women to guide him towards the stairwell that led out of the arena.

Harribel lingered behind for a few brief seconds, giving Orihime a stern look. For a moment, she thought the woman intended to reprimand her. For what, Orihime was unsure; betraying her own friend, perhaps? Heaven knew she deserved hell for it.

"Do not regret your decision," she said, taking Orihime by surprise. "You made the right choice. You protected your comrade." With that she turned and followed her fraccion out of sight.

Her words were meant to be supportive, comforting even, but Orihime didn't feel comforted in the least. She didn't feel like she'd protected Ichigo, she felt like she'd hurt him.

What must he think of her?

"Hey, don't look so glum, princess," Grimmjow said from behind her, sounding quite happy about something. "That shit was pretty damn impressive. I always knew Kurosaki was strong, but damn…"

Orihime shuddered, barely able to stave off her tears for the guilt.

"Oh, please, Grimmjow," Szayel chastised whilst the rest of the Espada casually dispersed. "Can't you see the girl is distressed at the moment? You're not making it easier." He sounded more put off by Grimmjow's lack of etiquette, rather than her actual discomfort. Any words of castigation were clearly not for her benefit.

"I'm just sayin'," Grimmjow retorted. "The kid took me by surprise. Though, it would've been a helluva lot more exciting to watch if little miss bleeding hearts over here hadn't interfered." He jabbed his thumb in her direction none too subtly, displaying his displeasure at her meddlesome behavior. When he noticed she wasn't paying him the least bit of attention, merely blindly staring at the floor where Ichigo had stood only moments prior, Grimmjow frowned and took a step towards her. "Come on, princess," he began, his tone slightly more placating. "Don't tell me you're still hung up on the fact we captured your darling Kurosaki-kun. Or are you still just pissed that I threw you into that wall?"

Grimmjow blinked in confusion when Orihime suddenly turned and ran away, her hands pressed hard over her watery eyes.

He stared after her for a while before he glanced over to Szayel in bewilderment. "What the hell is wrong with her?"

"She just betrayed her comrade. Why do you think she's so upset? Honestly, it should be obvious," he answered.

"That's what she's so worked up about?" Grimmjow scoffed in disbelief, but then began to laugh mockingly. "Well, if that's the case, I'd have to agree with her. It would've been way more entertaining if she'd just kept to herself. I think it would've been fun to watch Aizen kick his ass." Shaking his head, he also turned to exit the room. "I swear I understand that bitch less and less every day."

---

What on earth was she going to do?

Orihime's heart was pounding away inside her chest as she paced back and forth inside her cell. She was terribly afraid of the judgment she would face once Ichigo was returned to their room. That look he'd given her earlier was just too much; all that unspoken pain and confusion.

Turning on her heel, Orihime once again began the short journey back to the other side of her rug, wringing her hands all the way.

Surely he would understand her reasons. He must. She'd done it for him.

And where was Ulquiorra through all of this mess?

The door to her room creaked open and Orihime froze; half hopeful it was Ulquiorra, yet also half terrified it was Ichigo.

Light flooded into the room and Orihime felt all her anxiety triple at the sight of Ichigo's wild strawberry blonde hair. Harribel stood by as he entered, only casting Orihime a brief glance before closing the door and leaving. With her eyes glued to her friend, Orihime had barely even noticed the other woman's presence.

Once inside, Ichigo paused when he saw her. A heavy silence stretched between them, leaving Orihime struggling to grasp the mood.

Was he mad? She couldn't tell.

His uniform was utterly drenched in crimson, his hair matted to his face. Part of his sleeve had been ripped off, allowing her to see the bandages on his arm. Likewise, most of the left leg on his hakama had been removed in the infirmary to dress his wounds. He looked pale and tired, like he'd lost too much blood. She couldn't even begin to imagine how they'd stitched up the mangled remains that had been his calve. He must have been in so much pain…

With that repulsive bruise still on his face, darkening the skin under his eyes, he looked absolutely awful.

"Kurosaki-kun…" She took a step towards him, desperate to break the silence. "I'm so sor-"

Ichigo suddenly held up a hand to stop her, his shoulders sagging in exhaustion. "Don't," he began quietly. "Just…don't, Inoue."

Orihime recoiled slightly, her heart sinking.

"I'm tired right now. I just want to get some rest." Hardly able to use his leg anymore, she watched him drag it behind him as he made his way over to the couch. Regret, pity and sorrow reflected in her gaze, somehow knowing this was all her fault.

"Kurosaki-kun, please, just allow me to explain." She cautiously approached him when he finally dropped onto the sofa.

"You don't have to explain anything," he said calmly, totally lacking in energy. Biting back a pained hiss, he stretched his leg out in front of him on the floor.

"But I do!" she insisted. She was beginning to worry her bottom lip between her teeth, slowly feeling the futility of the whole disaster of a situation. "You have to understand I was just-" Orihime cut herself short when she noticed the spots of blood dripping from his bandages to the floor. "Oh, dear. They didn't fix you up very well." Turning quickly, she raced into the bathroom to gather something to clean him up with. When she returned, she knelt before him and carefully dunked a towel into the bowl of water she'd brought. "Here, we should wrap this better. You've already lost so much blood."

Orihime winced back when he only pushed her hand away, uninterested in her charity. Uncertain, she glanced up at him.

"Kurosaki-kun?" Her brow dipped in confusion.

"It's fine, Inoue. Just leave it." He wasn't looking at her.

"But…" Why wouldn't he look at her?

"I think you should just go to bed. It's late."

Her hands clutched at the towel harder, twisting it in her fingers fretfully. Tears wanted to well up in her eyes, but she stubbornly fought them off. She couldn't afford to cry in front of him again.

"Please, Kurosaki-kun! I was only trying to protect you!" She leaned forward, determined to make him see her side of things, but he only turned further away, clenching his eyes closed as if he were trying to shut her out. "They would have killed you. And with the condition you're in…" She placed her hand gently upon his knee, hoping to draw his attention back to her. He grimaced slightly, as if internally struggling with something. "I couldn't let something happen to you. I had to protect you!" She quickly wished she could take that last part back. The last thing his pride needed right now was to hear he was the one who needed protecting.

"Damn it, Inoue, just go to bed," he said again. "I'm tired and in a shit ton of pain, so-"

"I was only trying to keep you safe! Lord Aizen would have-!"

"Lord Aizen?" He turned his head back to her, a mixture of disgust and disbelief painting his features. That was the last straw.

"No, that's not what I-"

"Just drop it, Inoue." He was starting to sound annoyed.

"But-"

"I said drop it!" he shouted, slapping her hand off his knee as he suddenly bolted up from the couch to glare down at her. Completely taken off guard, Orihime dropped the towel and stumbled backwards onto her rear.

"K-Kurosaki…kun?"

"For fuck's sake, Inoue, do you know how hard it was to break the hold this thing had on me?" He motioned to the collar around his neck, sparks of anger flaring in his eyes. "Do you even understand what I had to go through?" His muscles were still shaking from the exertion he'd put on his own body. "I'd rather die than have this thing on me! And now they just saddle me with another one!"

Orihime's eyes were wide and alarmed as she listened to him vent. Guilt assailed her again, reaffirming her belief that she never should have interfered.

"Don't you see?!" he brought his hands up, staring at them intensely as he clenched them into fists. "Can't you see that was my only chance to get us…to get you out of here." His voice softened and he suddenly sounded very tired again, almost hopeless.

"I…I'm so sorry," Orihime whispered, barely staving off her tears.

With a deep sigh, Ichigo dropped his arms back to his sides and turned away. He limped heavily as he made his way to the other end of the couch, purposely distancing himself from her. Settling back into the furthest corner, Ichigo rested his elbow on the arm of the sofa and dropped his head wearily into his hand.

She'd hurt him. She'd caused him pain, all because of her decisions.

She could barely stand it.

He didn't try to stop her when she suddenly got up and rushed out of the room.

Hardly able to think straight for all the grief, Orihime briefly paused outside the door. Where could she even go? This place wasn't her home. Now that Ichigo was there, just the sight of his face reminded her of that fact all too well. It wasn't like she could go running to Tatsuki for comfort and reassurance. There was really no one in Las Noches that could give her that unconditional love and consolation, and the one person that could was the very person she'd just unintentionally pushed away.

Shoving away from the door, Orihime raced down the hall, wanting to find someplace to hide. She blindly ran, knowing the only place she could go was to Ulquiorra's room. His was the only place she could sleep other than her cell. She had extra clothes there, even a toothbrush, sitting next to all of his stuff in his bathroom.

Orihime stopped at the base of one of the staircases that led up to his level of the tower, realizing that was exactly where she was unconsciously heading. Mentally cursing herself, she gripped the wide marble railing and slowly lowered herself onto the bottom step.

Why was she running to his room? She was trying to distance herself from him after he'd brought Ichigo to Las Noches. Though she hadn't done a very good job of that on the first night, she still fully intended to send him the message that capturing her friends and imprisoning them under Aizen's reign just wasn't acceptable. Not like that shouldn't have been obvious.

Orihime stifled a scornful laugh at herself.

She'd wanted to watch out for Ichigo while he was there. Yet, here they were, only on the second day and she'd somehow succeeded in doing nothing but driving him away. She should have believed in him. They needed to be a team now more than ever and she'd ruined that. All she'd done was repeat her own mistakes.

She was just so frightened for her friends' safety, so much so that she always ended up unintentionally hurting them in the end.

While they may have stifled her sometimes with their possessiveness, she equally stifled them with her own protectiveness.

Curling her knees up to her chest, Orihime wrapped her arms around her legs and leaned into the cool railing of the steps she sat upon. Now alone, she let go of the tears she'd been restraining. The large, empty atrium around her was dark and gloomy and gray, void of any warmth. With the lack of anything to absorb sound, her quiet sobs echoed around her, bouncing back at her and reminding her of her own weakness.

"Why aren't you in your room?"

Orihime gasped softly, swallowing back her tears as she lifted her head from her knees. A pair of boots stood in front of her, nearly making her want to smile.

He always did find her.

Raising her eyes higher, she felt some of her resolve shatter as she met Ulquiorra's gaze.

"I don't deserve to be there right now," she uttered in defeat. With her lower lip trembling, her face scrunched up into a pitiful pout as she turned her face from him. "I was trying to protect my friend and I ended up hurting him instead."

"You're speaking nonsense, woman," he said calmly.

"It's not nonsense!" she retorted with a scowl, her words still nearly inaudible. "I'm a terrible friend."

He observed her with a long stare, taking in her melancholic eyes and defeated posture.

"Come, get up," he ordered and began to turn away.

Orihime peeked at him from behind her hair. "Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you back to your room."

"What?" She quickly pushed herself up from the bottom step to glare at him. "I can't go back there!"

"You can and you will," he replied coolly as he moved toward the corridor, fully knowing she would follow - which, of course, she did.

"But Kurosaki-kun is…" she paused. "He isn't in the best of moods and I don't wish to bother him. Can't you just put me somewhere else? It's not like we have to be in the same room."

"His mood is of no consequence." He led them further away from the stairwell and into a hall that was slightly brighter than the last. "rYour relationship with the boy does not change the fact that you are a prisoner, woman. You will not be relocated simply because you had an argument."

"It's not just an argument, Ulquiorra," she sighed. "I did something unforgivable. He's my friend, he was depending on me and I let him down."

"Then perhaps he should not depend so heavily on friends." It took him a moment to notice that she had suddenly stopped walking. When he glanced back, he found her standing in the middle of the hall, her arms folded self-consciously around herself. Her brow was drawn and her eyes were staring off to the side, their chocolate depths appearing lost in troubled thoughts.

"Is that what you really think?" she said quietly, almost sounding disappointed. He didn't say anything in response, she really hadn't expected him to. "Kurosaki-kun means a lot to me, just like Kuchiki-san…Ishida-kun…Sado-kun…and even Abarai-san. I want my friends to depend on me and trust me. I couldn't live without them, and to think I may have done something to sever that connection breaks my heart. They came all the way here for me, and I have no intention of hurting them."

"This connection you share, it seems tenuous at best if a mere argument is enough to stress the bonds," he remarked.

Orihime shook her head softly. "Even if the bonds are stretched, they'll never break."

"Ridiculous," Ulquiorra said calmly. "Everything breaks."

Orihime looked up at him, her eyes seeming even sadder than before.

"Do not look at me like that, woman." He narrowed his eyes. "You said so yourself, 'to sever that connection breaks your heart'. I was under the impression you believed this heart to be infinitely stronger. To insinuate from your own lips that it would fail so easily speaks to its absurdity."

"That's just a figure of speech, Ulquiorra." She frowned slightly.

"Then this heart of yours is also nothing more than a figure of speech?" She didn't miss the hint of mockery.

"Why do you have to say things like that?" Orihime's fingers tightened on her arms. "I'm not asking you to believe in it, merely respect what it stands for!"

"I do not respect things that do not exist," he said coldly and Orihime flinched back, stung by his words.

Even after all this time he still believed that? Hadn't she made any difference in his life at all? Didn't she mean anything to him?

She was silent for a long while, as if unsure what to say. More, she couldn't find the words, couldn't bring herself to speak.

If there was one thing that Orihime became aware of in that moment, it was that they were almost painfully different. There was nothing about them that was compatible. Their beliefs, their personalities, their dispositions, their strengths and weaknesses, and even their species; there was nothing about them that fit. They were like a round peg trying to fit into a square hole.

She wanted someone who could at least show a level of kindness, someone who at least had the capacity to love. Did Ulquiorra even have that? Could he ever return her affections? She wanted to believe he could, she needed to believe it, but she and Ulquiorra…they were just so up and down sometimes that there were certain moments where she honestly didn't know what they were. He was her warden and she a prisoner to his master. Yet, enemies and lovers couldn't even begin to describe the complications of them…at the same time, there was no more adequate definition.

There were times when she honestly felt they were like a pair of planets doomed to destroy one another; pulling and pushing against each other with their gravity. They drew each other in, only to be repelled once they got too close…and then the process would repeat itself, getting closer and closer until they could nearly touch, but always hurtling away from each other in the end.

So close but so far away.

It was always a back and forth, but they'd have to crash at some point…and collisions were always painful.

Orihime rubbed her forearm nervously as she glanced up into Ulquiorra's eyes, silently wondering if they were at one of the pull or push stages of their relationship. There were questions she still had about him, about them. She was almost certain that he felt something for her, whether those feelings were large or small, or deep or shallow was irrelevant. What she really wanted to know was if those moments of feeling meant anything to him at all.

"Ulquiorra, I…" Orihime started to ask him something, but she hesitated, almost as if she wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer. Reaching up, she lightly stroked a thick lock of her hair in both hands and took a few steps forward, closing the small gap between them. "What would you do if Lord Aizen ordered you to kill Kurosaki-kun?"

Ulquiorra faintly lifted a single eyebrow at the off-topic question. "I think the answer to that would be obvious."

Orihime bit her lip and continued to anxiously stroke the hair hanging over her shoulder. "And me?" she said softly. "What would you do if he suddenly decided to be rid of me?"

"Your concerns are unfounded, woman. I highly doubt Lord Aizen would order the death of you or the boy."

Orihime closed her eyes briefly. "That's not an answer."

"Then what would you have me say?" He took a step closer to her, watching her with that frustrating air of detachment. "You are fully aware of what I am and what my job entails, yet you act as if you do not know what this is."

Orihime suddenly shot him a glare; hurt, anger and disbelief reflected in her gaze. "And just what is this, Ulquiorra?" Her voice was tense and thick with emotion, scarcely able to keep herself from snapping the question at him. He didn't react and Orihime shook her head, her eyes silently imploring him for an answer. "What are we?" she asked quietly. Determined to find her answers, she moved incredibly close and looked straight into his eyes. "What do I mean to you?" she whispered.

Ulquiorra frowned. "I think the real question here is what I am to you," he countered easily. "It is clear you hold some type of fondness for me, but for what reason? Perhaps you believe you can stimulate some type of heartbeat inside my soul, but surely you know this is impossible. I am a Hollow. There is nothing inside me to kindle." Orihime blinked back her tears, her lower lip trembling in effort to keep them at bay. "I assure you, whatever intentions you have, they are misdirected. I am not some misguided, lonely creature who has erected walls around my supposedly wounded heart to keep the pain of the world at bay. There are no emotions of love or compassion laying dormant within me. Rather, there is nothing inside me." Ulquiorra paused to follow the trail of a single teardrop as it slipped down her cheek. When it disappeared somewhere past the dip of her jaw, he lifted his gaze back to hers. "Do you really believe our relationship will somehow manage to change my perception of your beliefs on the heart? If you are hoping you can persuade me to separate myself from the war Lord Aizen has instigated, then you are sorely mistaken-"

Without warning, Orihime's hands came up and carefully cupped his face. When she unexpectedly pressed her lips to his in one soft, gentle kiss, Ulquiorra's eyes widened. Her lashes fluttered shut as she lightly pulled him down to her, her chest constricting when she noticed the way he unconsciously followed, his mind too stunned to resist. Her fingers tenderly trailed down the length of his jaw as she poured her soul into the chaste kiss. It was short and warm and packed with every ounce of emotion and love she felt for him.

Didn't he know the heart didn't need reason?

She was trembling when she pulled away, dipping her head slightly when he reflexively began to pursue her lips. The tips of her fingers delicately touched the stains on his face, her mouth still only inches from his. "What does that make you feel?" she uttered quietly, her tremulous voice betraying her own feelings. When she was met with silence, she closed her eyes tight and exhaled against the smooth skin just beneath his lips. "Please tell me you feel something."

As she backed away, she brought her hands down and clasped them together over her breast. Her heart was hammering violently inside her chest as she stared up into his eyes.

'Can't you feel anything?' she silently wondered.

His gaze narrowed partially; not in that way he did when annoyed or impatient. Rather, he looked at her like he was attempting to decipher something particularly difficult to translate. Apparently intending to find the solution, he bent down to her lips, but Orihime quickly turned away. She didn't want his kiss if he didn't mean it, and she certainly refused to allow it after all he'd done to Ichigo.

Just as suddenly, his hand gripped her jaw and forced her back into the wall, lifting her face to his as he closed the distance between them. Her refusal evidently wouldn't be tolerated, leaving Orihime unsure of whether to laugh or cry from the irony of it. Ulquiorra, the very man who could hardly bother to care for her kisses, the one who used to turn away from her, was now the one pushing her back against a wall and pressing his mouth down on hers.

He wasn't gentle like she had been, but harsh and insistent. His mouth opened over her own, intent to taste her. Her bottom lip was pulled between his teeth, but he gave no pause when the tang of her blood touched his tongue. The firm grip on her jaw held her in place, his fingers remarkably strong as he thoroughly ravaged her lips.

Orihime gasped and grasped at his jacket, overrun by a torrent of mixed emotions.

When she refused to yield and open her mouth to him, he merely dropped his hand to her neck and squeezed, breaking her down in that way he always did. Within moments, she was panting for air, allowing his tongue to sweep in and assault her own. He inhaled every one of her mewls and whimpers, barely leaving any breath in her lungs. One of his hands was suddenly in her hair, pulling her closer even as she pushed against his chest, desperately needing a breath, yet half uncertain if she even wanted one.

That familiar, warm fever sparked to life in her belly, making her want to shove away from him all the more. She didn't want to melt in his arms, she didn't want to be vulnerable right now. He'd hurt her in the past and she knew he would in the future, but at least now she'd learned how to avoid most of the burns. Yet, even when he kissed her like this, she felt so helpless. She wanted to lose herself in him and run away at the same time.

When Orihime finally broke away from him, she quickly pushed out of his grasp and averted her gaze.

"I…I'm going back to my room," Orihime muttered shakily, her voice laden with unshed tears. "Goodnight, Ulquiorra." She didn't hesitate when she turned and rushed down the hall, glad when he didn't once try to stop her. Her steps were light but hurried, her hand unconsciously covering her throbbing lips - as if that could somehow prevent him from stealing another kiss, or even erase the one he'd already stolen. She tried not to seem like she was in a rush, but when she finally got far enough away from him she couldn't help but pick up her pace.

Her feet led her back to her door by sheer memory alone. She hardly took any notice of the halls she passed along the way, her mind and body in a tangled web of conflicting thoughts.

By the time she threw open her door and hurried inside, she couldn't even remember why she'd left the room in the first place. Closing the door behind her, Orihime leaned back heavily against it and wrapped her arms around herself, her entire being shaking from head to toe. She hadn't even noticed how bad she'd been trembling until the quiet set in, causing her to release a quiet sob. It was soon followed by more; ones that she tried desperately to stifle.

Why did he have to kiss her like that? Like he wanted her.

"Inoue?" The sound of Ichigo's voice startled her, suddenly reminding her of his presence. Her eyes flung over towards the couch where she found him sitting on the edge of the cushions, looking terribly uncomfortable with his wounds.

"K-Kurosaki-kun," she managed to say, sounding unnecessarily surprised, almost like he'd caught her in the act of doing something she shouldn't have been.

His brow furrowed as he stood up. "Where the hell did you go? I was worried about you," he was only slightly reproachful, the words mostly overlain by concern. "I shouldn't have let you leave like that. I thought about going after you, but…" he started to trail off, his tone insinuating he was unsure of how to broach the topic.

Orihime swallowed nervously and clutched her arms tighter around herself. She really didn't want to deal with this right now. She wasn't even sure if she could. She didn't know what to tell him, but neither did she wish to lie to him. Her relationship with Ulquiorra wasn't really his concern. Besides, it wasn't as if she'd left the room and intentionally went looking for him.

Still limping, he took a few hobbling steps towards her before stopping. Orihime unconsciously tried to sink back into the door, wishing to avoid the whole matter altogether. Without thinking, she began sidestepping him towards the bathroom, knowing that was the only place she could go at the moment to get some privacy. "Listen, I…I'm sorry about what I said earlier," he began quietly, but she softly shook her head, trying to get him to drop it. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep her tears locked up inside. "I shouldn't have talked to you like that. It's just-" When Ichigo took notice of her face, his expression quickly twisted into a look of shock. "Inoue, what the hell? You're bleeding."

Orihime's eyes widened as her hand darted up to touch her kiss swollen lips. She gasped when she felt the silky smooth warmth coating her flesh.

"You're lip's all busted up." Ichigo sounded genuinely concerned as he began to advance on her, only to instantly stop when Orihime quickly held up a hand to halt him. A look of confusion crossed his face and not for the first time Orihime wished he'd been placed in a different cell.

"It's fine, Kurosaki-kun," she said as she started backing up to the other end of the room. "Really, I'm fine," she promised shakily when he didn't appear to believe her. "I'm sorry, I…I just need to be alone right now." Orihime barely got the words out before she abruptly turned and darted into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

She stood in place for a long moment afterward, listening to Ichigo's footsteps as he approached the door, only to hesitate and turn back. She let out a sigh of relief and pushed away from the door, shrugging off her cape as she made her way over to the sink.

Orihime frowned when she leaned forward to examine the damage in the mirror. It had been a long time since he'd cut her mouth and she mentally berated him for the trouble. Filling the sink with water, she lightly dabbed the blood away.

Her fingers gently prodded sliced flesh, noting it was only a small wound, albeit a deep one.

Not in the mood to go back outside and be forced to deal with the awkward atmosphere and more questions, Orihime turned to the shower instead.

Certainly a warm bath would make her feel better, especially when the men in her life were succeeding so well at making her so miserable.

..

…

TBC

…

..

I think people often forget it wasn't just Orihime that helped Ulquiorra find his heart. Ichigo played a part, too.