The Furthest Planet From The Sun

by Mahi-Mahi

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

26. Chapter 26

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CHAPTER 26

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Calloused hands reached down to rub the newly healed flesh of his leg. Even after so much time around the girl, her powers never ceased to amaze him. Muscles and tendons that had once been hanging on by a thread were now healthy and whole. Without much hurry, Ichigo unwound the soiled bandages that had been wrapped around his calf from ankle to knee.

No doubt, they were some of the worst injuries he could recall sustaining to date. Now, zero pain remained. His skin looked good as new.

"Amazing," he uttered as he stood up and tested his weight on it. Even going so far as to lift his other foot and hop on it once or twice. "It's like it never happened, Inoue! It feels great!"

Orihime beamed up at him from where she knelt on the floor. "It doesn't hurt anymore?"

"Not in the least. Your powers are really something else," he praised nonchalantly.

Hiding her blush, Orihime sheepishly scratched at her cheek. "T-thank you," she replied, simply happy to help.

"I'm the one who should be thanking you." He shook his head as he rested once more on both feet. Tossing the old bandages onto the coffee table, Ichigo stepped away from her and turned until she could no longer read his expression, his mood souring slightly despite the positive turn of events. "I came here to help you, but it seems you're the one who's been having to look after me."

Orihime swallowed down the lump of guilt that built in her throat at his words. "That's not true, Kurosaki-kun," she began as she clenched her fists into her skirts on her lap. "I shouldn't have tried to stop you. I was trying to protect you, but I only ended up hurting you in the end." There was a long stretch of silence and she debated with herself whether to continue with what she wanted to say next. In the end, she felt the words needed to be said and resumed her speech. "When I was approached in the Senkaimon, I was propositioned with two options; surrender or watch my friends suffer. If I went quietly, the Arrancar forces would retreat and leave you without causing any further damage." Orihime closed her eyes as she recounted it all. Though it made her feel regretful, she found herself leaving out the one detail that it was Ulquiorra who found her in the Senkaimon and cornered her like a rabbit. She didn't need to give Ichigo another reason to hate him more than he already did. "I should have believed in everyone, Kurosaki-kun," she admitted weakly. "I gave in too easily and agreed to go with them. I wanted to save you from any further pain, and thought I had the power to help if it meant my sacrifice…but I was wrong."

From the other side of the table, Ichigo clenched his fists in silent rage at hearing what she'd had to endure on their behalf. Still, he held his tongue as she continued.

"Just like back then, I've caused you more trouble by getting in the way." Orihime brought a hand to her chest and closed her eyes in regret. "Forgive me for not putting more trust in you."

When he didn't immediately respond, Orihime feared the worst. Did he resent her for what she'd just confessed? That she had basically willingly agreed to betray them? Regardless of the reasons, the fact still remained.

"You know, everyone called you a traitor."

She wanted to wince at the coldness in his tone.

"But I refused to believe them," he suddenly clarified, causing her eyes to shoot back open in surprise. "This power that is now coursing through my leg, I felt it in my wounds that morning as well." Ichigo sighed heavily, as if what he was speaking was something that he'd wanted to say for a while now. "I know your powers, Inoue, and that you only use them for good. Despite your circumstances, you still somehow found a way to heal me and help out your friend. Because of that, I knew the truth…"

Orihime's hands clenched harder.

"Inoue," he called.

At her name, her head lifted to his, only to find him also looking back at her. A small, warm smile sat on his lips as his brow dipped marginally.

"You would never betray us. Thank you for helping me. I'll do better next time so you won't have to make such sacrifices. So please, don't be so hard on yourself."

"Kurosaki-kun…" she uttered, her voice thick with gratitude.

So, he didn't hate her after all…

Thank goodness.

Just as a sense of relief began to settle over her shoulders, the door to her room opened and a servant stepped inside carrying a new pair of clothes. When the serf deposited the fresh laundry onto the couch and merely retreated immediately afterwards, Ichigo walked up and lifted the neatly folded linens to examine.

"Clean clothes, huh?" Ichigo scoffed. "Bastards could've brought this sooner. What's with all this charity all of a sudden?" He glanced back at Orihime as she started to stand from the floor, his eyes discreetly taking in the fact her hair pins had made a sudden reappearance on her person after she'd returned to their room. The coincidence was not unnoticed. Along with the new clothes, fresh food and her barrettes, he couldn't help but feel skeptical. Ulquiorra had also been suspiciously absent recently.

"Oi, who gave your fairies back to you, anyways?" he asked over his shoulder, trying to watch for a reaction. The girl didn't disappoint.

Orihime swallowed back her nervous blush and chuckled in an effort to blow it off. "Does that matter now?" she asked. "I was able to heal your leg so isn't that a good thing?"

That was just the problem. She only healed his leg. The Inoue he knew would have healed all of him.

"Did that walking robot tell you not to help me beyond fixing my leg or something?" he groused.

Orihime waved her hands, flustered and refusing to make eye contact. "W-well, he just-"

"Why do you do everything that asshole tells you to, Inoue?" Ichigo turned away from her again and tried to hide the bitterness in his voice. Even though he'd just outwardly proclaimed that he knew she'd never betray them, she wasn't making it easy for him to keep believing that. Her actions thus far around their warden had been unnerving at best, and this nearly cemented the idea in his mind that the man had more control over her than he cared to think about.

Just as he was about to make another comment on the situation, the girl in question suddenly reached a hand up to cover her mouth. Her figure hunched over slightly as her eyes widened in shock and her face went pale.

"What the hell, Inoue?" Ichigo blinked in surprise as he heard her suddenly gag.

"I-I think using my powers upset my stomach…" With one hand clamped over her mouth, the other hand's fingers reached up to gently pull on her collar, like it felt too constricting. "I-I'm sorry, excuse me for a minute, Kurosaki-kun!" She barely got the words out before she took off running for the bathroom.

Standing with the fresh uniform still hanging in his hands, Ichigo blinked in confusion as his eyes followed her. Without warning, the stomach churning sound of retching echoed out into the room from the open doorway.

Ichigo's gut rolled.

"Hey! At least shut the door if you're gonna start puking!" he shouted after her, desperately trying to conjure the image of Orihime hurling rainbows and unicorn glitter, rather than this morning's breakfast. "If I hear that, I'm-" his own words were cut off as he swallowed harshly, trying not to sympathy puke.

"S-sorry!" the girl called out between coughs. "It just hit so suddenly!"

Another bout of retching followed, making Ichigo pale in part disgust and part pity. Internally, he battled with himself to help her out or just keep his distance. He didn't have the stomach nor the heart to usually help people in such situations, his sisters being the exception, and his father could drown in it for all he cared.

Throwing the uniform onto the couch, he grit his teeth as he made his way over to the bathroom door. He wouldn't go in to help her…hell no…but he could at least stand by and offer support.

Crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, Ichigo scowled and turned his head to glare into the opposite direction.

"Hey," he called quietly when her innards seemed to give her a momentary reprieve.

"Y-yes?" Ichigo could hear the little sniffle behind her timid reply.

"I'm right here if you need me," he said the words even quieter than the last, annoyed at himself for acting so out of character.

She didn't respond, but he heard her sigh in relief. If his grimace could have gotten any deeper, it would have. Just how long had she been alone that she found relief at such a simple offer of help?

"Come to think of it, you were sick the other day, too," Ichigo noted aloud. "Ulquiorra had to bring you back. You also passed out when they brought me here." He tried to keep his tone neutral, but there was no hiding the questions behind his statements. "You getting sick or something?"

There was even more silence that followed. It hung heavy and uninterrupted longer than he liked.

"I'm sure it's nothing, Kurosaki-kun," she finally responded, her voice thick and rough from having just evacuated her stomach's contents.

"Keh, sure." He closed his eyes, deciding to try and blow it off instead. "Living in this dank place for so long, I'd be surprised if you didn't come down with pneumonia a long time ago. Plus with all these weirdos hanging around, they probably got diseases or something."

Inside he heard a light giggle.

Ichigo smirked to himself, glad to at least get that from her. With a casual wave of his hand, he continued.

"I mean, Grimmjow definitely has rabies." This earned him a real laugh. He exhaled and leaned his head back against the wall to glare at the ceiling, deciding to refrain from further commentary as her chiming laughter suddenly started turning into more vomiting.

Ichigo stayed there in silent support until she was done several minutes later, his mind churning with unease. His fingers dug into his biceps where he had his arms crossed, unable to fight the tension building in him at every hurl. Orihime had left earlier that day in a search to find him clean clothes, despite his protests. She'd come back with not only clean clothes, but piping hot food and her barrettes all in tow, ready to heal him up like she (herself, a prisoner) had VIP access to it all.

Ulquiorra had clearly been the one to intervene and it pissed him off.

Ulquiorra was the one who brought him to Las Noches, he was always there. When Inoue disappeared the other night. When he brought her back passed out in his arms. When they tried to escape into the desert. When she went to get him clothes.

It was always Ulquiorra. Wherever they went…wherever she went.

Ulquiorra…

Ulquiorra…

Ulquiorra.

"Kurosaki-kun, if Ulqiuorra comes back, will you tell him to come in here, please?"

Ichigo flinched.

Instead of letting it fester inside him any further, Ichigo quickly turned his mind to thoughts of his friends. If he focused on them, he wouldn't let his mind wander to dark places. If he kept them at the forefront, the sinking feeling in his chest wouldn't get any deeper. If he hoped they were all ok, he wouldn't be consumed by the increasingly growing fact that Ichigo suspected Ulquiorra and Orihime were somehow…

Yet, in the back of his mind, despite his efforts, all Ichigo could think about at that moment was the little family of Hollows that he, Ishida and Chad had run into out in the desert.

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Aizen withheld an impatient sigh and, instead, offered yet another agreeable nod to Szayel. The Octava Espada had spent the greater part of the morning ushering Aizen around the lab, showing off all the new specimens. With the war looming ever closer, Aizen had commissioned the fellow scientist to funnel all of his efforts into creating more foot soldiers; Hollows that held little value and were easily dispensable.

Doing so put less strain on the Hogyoku and freed Aizen's hands to focus on more pressing matters. However, it seemed the pinnacle of such efforts were Hollows the likes of Hoolier; big, dumb, lumbering beasts that weren't good for much beyond mindless destruction.

Aizen's brown eyes settled on the latest result of such experimentations. A tan-skinned Hollow hunkered in the farthest corner of a small, sterile cell. Its body held all manner of scars, bits and pieces added and removed to create a stronger being than it or any of the donors could ever hope to be alone. It was the sum of its parts, greater than before, but it still wasn't enough.

"Does this specimen displease you, My Lord?" Szayel questioned, wringing his hands together like a nervous insect.

When Aizen didn't respond and merely continued to stare at the pathetic creature dispassionately, Szayel cleared his throat awkwardly.

"It's fine, Szayel," Aizen answered belatedly. "Thank you for your work."

Even a deaf man could hear the words rang hollow.

When the ex-Reaper began to turn away, Szayel saw his chance and decided to try his luck.

"I can't help but notice you seem distracted lately, Lord Aizen," he ventured carefully. The matter he was about to bring forward would require delicate handling. However, Szayel was more than prepared, he'd been plotting his next move for a long time and the hour had finally come to show his hand.

"The war has me much detained elsewhere," Aizen began amicably, ever so polite even when there was a warning edge in his tone to tread carefully when questioning his master's state of mind. "Forgive me for being half as invested in your paltry efforts at experimentation than usual."

Szayel cleared his throat again, this time in effort to hide the shock at the blatant insult behind Aizen's comment.

"Yes, I understand," he started. "I apologize for overstepping. However, I must ask again, if I could only get ahold of that girl and do some proper investigating, perhaps I could use her powers to help create-"

"We have already had this discussion many times before." Aizen stopped him before he could finish. Although there was admonishment in his tone, there was also the distinct impression that Aizen was putting in real effort to not reach up and rub the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "The answer will always be the same. I will not hand her over to you."

"Yet you leave her with the Cuatro as if it is a better place for her to be?"

Aizen's eyes sharpened at the backtalk and Szayel quickly bowed at the waist. It was now or never.

"Again, my apologies, My Lord…but I think there is something you should see…"

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"Oh, Ulquiorra…"

Aizen's eyes watched the screens in front of him intently, taking in the scenes playing out on each one.

There, on the flickering monitors, was the image of his most trusted Espada entangled in the sheets with his human ward. On the largest screen in the middle of the wall, Ulquiorra's pale back could be seen laying over the girl, his arm braced on the mattress above her as they moved in tandem. Her peach hands and legs wrapped around him from underneath and clung to him in amorous desperation. Blankets tangled under them, exposing her shapely legs that snaked around his waist like vines.

Her fiery hair was like a beacon of color visible over his shoulder where she had her face buried in his neck. Their colors clashed like night and day, meeting as fervently as their hips did under the sheets.

On another screen, the girl was positioned on top of him, his pale hands guiding her hips in slow, deep motions. Her back arched and her breasts on full display as she cried out his name and braced herself on his chest for support.

Each monitor held a different encounter, a different recording, but at the heart of it they were all the same; his soldier taking liberties with Aizen's ward where they were not granted.

"Please, Ulquiorra!" On one small screen off to the side, Orihime's breathy cry caught his attention. His fourth Espada had her pinned to a wall, thrusting himself into her hard. It was impossible to miss the sentiment in her voice, or the compassionate, loving depths in her eyes as she gazed at her lover. He had seen looks like that before, from his little Vice Captain back in Soul Society. He knew what they meant all too well…

She cried out for mercy, begged for him to stop from clear overstimulation, but Ulquiorra either cared not to listen or took pleasure in her strife. Further still, he did not overlook the ardent grip of Ulquiorra's pale hands on the girl under his care, or the heated purpose behind the drive of his hips, the hungry trailing of his lips across her face, the deep gasps and groans, and worse yet, the way his green eyes were utterly glued to her; all of which spoke to the man's own desperation in clinging to her.

It was a passion Aizen had rarely seen out of his Cuatro Espada…if at all.

"I'm sure this news is upsetting," Szayel said from beside him. "I intended to bring the matter to your attention sooner, but-"

"How long has this been going on?" Aizen asked calmly, but Szayel did not fail to notice the dangerous gleam in his eyes, or the tight grip his hand had on his Zanpakuto.

"Who can say for sure," he answered, sounding as sleazy as ever. "I began suspecting something was off during Arturo's execution. I took hints from you, My Lord. I could see that you noticed something about the girl that required your intervention, and chose to send Ulquiorra into the ring to finish the traitor off in front of her. You were putting your foot down in the most subtle way possible. It seems he did not heed your warning."

Aizen frowned slightly when he noticed at the bottom left, in one of the recordings, Orihime's hands gently trailing down the markings on Ulquiorra's pale cheeks. The sparkle in her brown eyes was nothing short of adoring. He'd seen that look on her face many times before, seen the yearning on her, all right under his nose. Never in a million years would he have thought Ulquiorra would have acted this far on it.

"I tried to gather enough evidence to present to you sooner, but Ulquiorra was surprisingly careful about not implicating himself too much outside his quarters, let alone outside his tower."

In the same recording, Aizen watched as Ulquiorra seemed entranced by the girl's touch. Despite the slight frown that marred his features, his eyes were locked on his prisoner like she held some sort of sorcery over him that the man himself seemed completely unaware of. They were not in the throes of sex in this recording, merely trapped in the spell of each others' gaze.

"When I started to notice a pattern to some of his behavior, I began to deploy bugs to investigate further. As you can see, my suspicions were not unfounded." Szayel crossed his arms behind his back and tried to hide his scheming smile behind his clever words. "Of course, under normal circumstances I would not bother to dabble in Ulquiorra's personal business…however, you have made it clear on multiple occasions that to partake in such behavior with the girl was expressly forbidden."

More silence followed, the quiet only interrupted by Ulquiorra's heavy breaths and Orihime's feminine mewls coming from the screens in front of them.

"Ahem…" Szayel cleared his throat and repeated, "Yes, I'm truly sure this comes as quite the shock. It is very out of character for Ulquiorra. For him to go this far in defying you is equivalent to mutiny." Stepping forward, the Octava held out a hand in suggestion. "However, I would never think of undermining your rule in such a scandalous way. Such dalliances hold no interest to me, so if you were to transfer custody of the girl over to-"

"I'm not giving her to you, Szayel," Aizen abruptly turned on his heel. He'd cut him off before he could finish his request. Despite the livid air radiating around him, he was not blinded by his ire. He knew the scientist was scheming, and he wasn't fool enough to fall for it, either. "Send a messenger out to find Ulquiorra at once. Have him sent to my throne room. Send two more out for Gin and Tosen, tell them to report to me as soon as they are available."

"You cannot possibly be contemplating allowing him to have continued access to the girl?" The masked outrage in his voice was barely hidden. "He'll only continue-!"

Aizen stopped in his tracks, the air around him suddenly growing heavy with tension and reiatsu.

Glancing over his shoulder, he glared darkly at his scientific soldier. "I am growing weary of my own army seeming to think they constantly know better than me. All of your conspiracies have worn on my last thread of patience." Szayel suddenly dropped to his knee, be it from fear or the sheer force of pressure bearing down on him was unknown. Perhaps both. "Ulquiorra will be made an example of. If you continue to scheme, do not doubt that you will be next, Szayel."

"Yes, My Lord," he answered without hesitation.

Not daring to raise his head, Szayel merely stayed on one knee at his place on the floor, quietly listening and waiting for the sound of his laboratory doors to close shut behind his master. His scowl was unsightly as he hid behind his hair, internally fuming that he'd not only failed in his endeavors to get ahold of the girl for study, yet again, but he'd also succeeded in pissing Aizen off more than he was sure he could handle.

At the very least, he doubted it would be him under the whip this time.

For sure, Ulquiorra would be the one bearing the brunt of Aizen's rage. The favored soldier would finally be getting the punishment many of the Espada had long since desired to see him get. There was no skirting around the rules this time, no pardons or excuses or Aizen looking the other way just because.

The one bad thing about being so high and mighty and perfect all the time, was that it was so much harder when you fell from such a great height.

Szayel's scowl turned into a sneering smirk.

Regardless, it would at least be satisfying to see the golden boy get knocked down a few pegs…

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The servants were slacking. The slow, steady build-up of sand that crept further and deeper into the corridors of the palace was a sure enough sign. In the corners of the halls and bases of the walls, small piles of the dusty residue were slowly beginning to build. Under the steady fall of his boots, Ulquiorra paid little mind to the gritty crunch at his heel.

The chill in Las Noches' halls was especially crisp as he made his way to the door of Aizen's throne room. Hands resting habitually in the pockets of his pants, he paused several paces away when he noticed a presence lurking by one of the nearby pillars.

Turning his head slightly, Ulquiorra made sure to make direct eye contact with Gin Ichimaru. His fair features and platinum hair stood out like a beacon in the shadowy places that the ex-Reaper often seemed so fond of prowling.

His green eyes narrowed in silent challenge when Gin merely grinned back at him without remark.

No sniggers, no thinly veiled taunts, no comments…

Ulquiorra stared back in suspicion.

When Gin simply grinned even wider, as if reading the subtle hints of distrust radiating off the pale Espada's narrowed eyes and small frown, Ulquiorra turned forward once more and continued on his way.

The ex-Reaper's cryptic smiles warranted little in the way of acknowledgement. It seemed the man was always smirking and scheming about something that Ulquiorra cared not to investigate. However, his behavior, or rather lack thereof - specifically his lack of remark - deserved a passing glance.

Out of all of Aizen Sosuke's cohorts, soldiers, and servants, it was Gin Ichimaru that Ulquiorra knew merited the least amount of trust. Not that there was much trust going around in the world of Hueco Mundo, let alone Las Noches.

Pushing his way into the throne room, Ulquiorra was met with the usual sight of Aizen sitting upon his chair at the top of his mighty podium. He strode forward calmly, taking note of the presence of Kaname Tosen lingering like a specter behind the throne.

Neither Ulquiorra's face nor posture gave away the deepening doubt he felt upon seeing the man there. It was unusual for the dark-skinned man to be present at any official business outside of general meetings. The urgent summons he'd received earlier that day had come in the middle of his typical daily tasks. He'd been deep in the desert of Hueco Mundo, investigating residual spiritual pressure that suggested a Garganta had been forced open, likely lingering from a reconnaissance mission by the Soul Reapers. There had been no room for debate when one of Aizen's personal messengers had appeared, claiming he was to report at once without delay.

Ulquiorra recognized the verbage well enough. There would be no detours or pit stops, and he wasn't to take his time on returning.

"You called for me, Lord Aizen?" Ulquiorra stopped and offered a formal bow at the base of the podium, not once flinching when he sensed Ichimaru slinking into the room behind him to close the doors.

"Yes…thank you for coming so promptly, Ulquiorra." Aizen spoke down to him, his voice never once giving away the tension that undoubtedly hung in the air of the room.

"Such an obedient soldier," Gin chuckled to himself as he circled behind Ulquiorra to hover near a wall off to his right. Ulquiorra's green eyes followed him cautiously, sensing the danger lingering in the atmosphere.

"As you can guess, I have important business for you to attend to," Aizen continued. "You are the only soldier I have worth putting my trust in."

Aizen's praise was nothing new to Ulquiorra. However, praise that was unwarranted in the face of nothing remarkable, praise like he'd just received, sent his internal defenses up.

"I am at your command," he responded, one arm crossed at the waist as he remained bowed.

"Are you?" Aizen said the words quietly, but not quietly enough for Ulquiorra to miss them. Almost in shock, Ulquiorra's eyes shot up to the ex-Captain. Slowly, he stood from his bow as he sensed the underlying threat in those words. "I need you to check on the four pillars Kisuke Urahara erected in the living world. You remember the ones?" Aizen lifted an eyebrow.

Ulquiorra's brow furrowed.

"Pillars? But I have already-"

Before Ulquiorra could even finish the sentence, Aizen's crushing spiritual pressure bore down on him like a mountain. It slammed his knees to the floor and warped the air around him like a heat wave. Caught off guard, Ulquiorra fought the weight bearing down on him with little success.

"What-?" he barely managed to utter in disbelief.

"Are you questioning my orders, Cuatro Espada?" Ulquiorra grit his teeth and lifted his head enough to take in the sight of his master. Aizen's eyes were hard, narrow slits that glared down at him from above. Wrathful in their intensity. "How very unlike you."

It was instinct alone that prompted Ulquiorra to resist. Managing to get a foot under him, his hand used his knee as leverage to begin standing under the debilitating pressure. He knew what this was…he knew well and clear the statement Aizen was making.

At the sight of his resistance, Aizen abruptly stood from his chair and released an amount of reiatsu upon Ulquiorra he'd yet to unleash on any of his subordinates. Any further efforts on Ulquiorra's part abruptly stopped as he was forced back onto his knees, gritting his teeth harder as he felt the strength behind his master's wrath bearing down on his internal organs and burning his flesh. "I tire of my army questioning my every command and scheming at my back," he spoke as he strode forward to the edge of the podium, each step increasing the pressure he laid upon him. "It seems even my most obedient and trusted soldiers have grown fond of such insolence. You are not one of these soldiers, are you, Ulquiorra?"

Like swatting a fly, Aizen gave one final hit of reiatsu, slamming Ulquiorra onto his hands and knees before him. There was no fighting Aizen's strength, no avoiding it.

Staring at the floor below him, Ulquiorra's hands clenched into fists and shook from the effort not to plant his face into the dirt. His right arm suddenly gave out, barely catching himself on his elbow as he struggled. Pain flooded his nerve endings, seeming to eat him from the inside out, so overwhelming that even Ulquiorra - adept at enduring trivial things such as pain - exhaled harshly at the agony flooding him.

There was no question what prompted this punishment.

The woman.

Orihime Inoue.

Not the boy, not his repeated failures in his duty as their guard, not his acting out of order by interfering in things he had no business in.

He'd touched the forbidden, and now his master was dishing out the punishment for the crime of breaking the law he'd laid out before him again and again.

He'd pushed his good graces to their breaking point. Now, regardless of whatever had been the trigger, it seemed Aizen's patience had worn past the point of thinning. Perhaps it was in bringing the boy to Las Noches that was the catalyst, or his repeated failures at keeping the woman safe, or perhaps just plucking the fruit from a tree that didn't belong to him. Time and again, he'd been given allowances that most other Arrancar would have lost their head for, and now he sat at the receiving end of his master's fury, beaten lower than any who had come before him.

An instinctual part of him, a part that was purely Hollow, began to resist again. If he raised his reiatsu high enough, he could press back against that force. He was strong enough to fight it, to push against the spiritual pressure raining down on him like the weight and heat of the sun itself. However, Ulquiorra was nothing if not a master of his instincts, and he knew the futility of fighting back any further.

This was a fight he would never win, no matter how strong he was.

Aizen would always be stronger.

Closing his eyes in defeat, Ulquiorra let a rare scowl mar his lips.

"No, My Lord," he uttered quietly in answer.

"I trust you will take care of this task now, without further objection, yes?" Ulquiorra's lungs constricted when, almost beyond belief, more weight bore down on him. His eyes clenched further as he stifled an agonized groan in the back of his throat. Surely, if he'd had a heart beating in his chest, it would have burst by now.

Coughing once, his vision blurred when he noticed a round crimson splatter suddenly appear on the white floor beneath him. Soon, it was followed by two smaller ones…quickly spreading into a small puddle when a solid stream of blood suddenly erupted from his lips. His sight swam red, blood vessels bursting in the backs of his eyes.

"Yes." It was only through sheer force of will that he managed to gurgle the word through the blood in his mouth without faltering, his arms shaking under the stress.

"Good." Like a switch, all the power oppressing him abruptly ceased. The unexpected shift nearly knocked out what little air was left in his lungs. "Now leave my presence at once."

Ulquiorra's limbs trembled as he got a foot under him again, enough to rest his elbow upon and catch his breath. Sliding his gaze upward, he glared heavily at the sight of Aizen's back from under his brow. The ex-Captain had already turned from him and was vacating the room, leaving nothing but the thick atmosphere of wrath and ungodly power in his wake.

Looking down at the floor and the large pool of blood, he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. No small amount of blood stained his pale flesh, and with a cursory check he was unsurprised to find he was bleeding not only from his mouth, but his eyes and nose as well.

"Now don't be taking any detours to visit that pretty little flower in your tower, Cuatro-san," Gin sniggered from his place by the wall. "Best be getting straight to work."

When Gin turned and slipped from the room as well, leaving it vacant save for himself, Ulquiorra looked back down to his hand again. His regeneration was already working in his body, stopping the internal bleeding and healing any damage he had sustained.

He thought of the woman's face and the way she had looked at him when he, for the first time, touched her cheek in the linen room with the gentleness she so obviously craved.

Reaching back into his memory, he couldn't honestly recall ever tempering his touch to another living creature, be it a facade to placate her or not. The softening that came over her features…he remembered that look on her only once before. When he'd first taken her from the living world, as she stood over Ichigo Kurosaki and gazed at him with a depth even Ulquiorra could not fathom.

Whatever standing he'd once had in Aizen's confidence was now gone; compromised at best, if Aizen ever found himself in a particularly forgiving mood. And with it, was likely any access he was granted to the woman. It would be business as usual from then on out. Back to the usual killing, back to the unremarkable assignments, back to the spying and the war…all of these things which had always come so easily to him, almost dull and boring.

Ulquiorra clenched his fist, knowing from that point onward, it would likely be the last time he would ever see such a look from her again…

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.

Orihime stared down intently at the object in the drawer of her chifferobe. The internal conflict she was warring with showed in her eyes as she bit her lip. Reaching down, she let her fingers gently graze over the silver bangle nestled carefully atop a pure white piece of linen folded in the back.

Ulquiorra hadn't been seen for days, and if the lack of his spiritual presence was anything to go by, he was completely gone from Las Noches, if not Hueco Mundo itself. At worst, he was too far from the palace to even register on her senses.

Biting her bottom lip, she stole a glance behind her. Ichigo was sitting at the end of her sofa. One elbow was resting on the arm of the couch, his chin cupped in the palm of his hand as he stared longingly out of the barred window.

He didn't belong in Las Noches. A blind person could see that. He wasn't meant to be caged. While she had adjusted well enough to imprisonment, she could practically taste his yearning for freedom in the air around him.

She took note of the furrow on his brow. His brown eyes burned with a strange amalgamation of boredom, pining, and a unique fury that she could only compare to a tiger waiting for its master to open its cage before striking.

As happy as she was to be reunited with him, she knew he truly didn't belong there with her.

With a resigned sigh, she slid the drawer closed and stood from her seat.

She should have done this a long time ago, like when he'd first arrived. However, the plan lingering in the back of her mind was not guaranteed to work, at least not with Ulquiorra breathing down their necks.

Now, Ulquiorra hadn't been seen for nearly a full week and neither had any Arrancar come by her room as they usually did. Not even Wonderweiss. She frequently sensed Grimmjow lurking inside the dome, not too far from the Fourth tower, but never venturing closer. Harribel, as she'd noticed, had also taken to frequenting the tower, but never straying inside. Her presence had been more like a sentry, silent and watchful from a distance. Perhaps she had been placed in charge of them in light of Ulquiorra's absence, it was hard to tell.

With their room under a kido barrier that only she was able to pass through, the task of preparing meals and tending to their daily needs had fallen on her shoulders. Not that she minded, it was good to feel useful in their down time. It also kept her mind occupied from thoughts of her relationship with their jailer.

Orihime's hand reached up to rest on her heart as she thought of the way he'd so carefully caressed her face the last time she'd seen him. She'd observed many different things that flashed through Ulquiorra's eyes in her time knowing him, but none so obvious and craving as the one he'd given her that day.

It was at that moment she knew he felt something for her beyond just simple lust. Hope had welled inside of her, bringing her heart back to life at his touch once again. She wanted to reach out to him again, relentlessly she wanted him to see what she saw in his eyes.

Tentatively the hand on her heart slowly lowered down her chest and stomach until it rested over her abdomen. Her fingers shook in both fear and wonder as she tried to come to terms with the glaringly obvious fact that she was likely pregnant with Ulquiorra's child.

Over the past few days, she had tried to remember the last time she'd had her cycle, but she was stunned to realize it was well before her and Ulquiorra had begun being intimate. The frequent dizzy spells, the constant passing out, the nausea she suffered nearly incessantly were telltale signs she had been blind to, until now.

Orihime winced as another sharp cramp shot through her abdomen.

That was another worrying symptom she had developed within the last two days; the random and, at times, breath-stealing pains that shot through her with no rhyme or reason.

If her suspicions were true, if she truly was pregnant, then urgency was of the utmost importance. She wanted to reach Ulquiorra, more than anything she wanted to show him all the wonders of the heart…of her heart. If his child was growing inside her, her desire to show him love was important now more than ever.

It was also imperative to leave Hueco Mundo.

There was no way she could birth and raise a child in such an environment.

Her life from that moment on would cease to be as it was before, and she honestly doubted she was ready for it.

Orihime was young, painfully young to be having a child when she herself had yet to be out of school. She wanted to go to college, get a degree and a nice job, or maybe open a bakery, and be with her friends as they journeyed into proper adulthood. She hadn't thought much further than that. Once upon a time, wanting to be with Ichigo Kurosaki in whatever capacity she could manage was the centerfold of her life. In many ways, all of them had been forced to grow up early, far sooner than the rest of their classmates. Having the worlds of Soul Society and Hueco Mundo opened to their eyes had shifted their lives in an unchangeable way. They had to fight, had to bear witness to what happened to a human soul if it wasn't sent peacefully along its way, the monster it became…

Ulquiorra had come into her life somewhere along the way. His presence had irreversibly changed even that balance she had found in dealing with such a reality shift.

And now…

Orihime swallowed back tears.

She was afraid and didn't know what to do.

She would love the child, without doubt.

But how? How was she going to do this on her own?

She didn't even think it was possible for Hollows to reproduce, let alone with a human. Would the baby be normal? For one horrifying moment, her imagination ran away with her and she pictured giving birth to a mutant octopus-baby with green eyes, red hair and eight tentacles.

Despite herself, she giggled quietly at the wild thought.

Without moving his chin from his palm, Ichigo glanced over to her, raising an eyebrow at the sound of her light laughter. "Hm?" he hummed in curiosity. "Something funny, Inoue?" he called, boredom eating at his mind.

Her back was still to him as she stood in front of her vanity, but in the mirror he could see her reflection and took quiet note of where her hand was currently resting on her belly.

Orihime shook her head lightly as she reached up and quickly wiped at the slight moisture that had gathered on her lashes.

"It's nothing," she said as she turned to him. "Kurosaki-kun…I think I might know a way to get you out of here."

Ichigo's eyes widened at the sudden confession, his head perking up from its perch on his hand. He scanned her features carefully, looking for any hint of a joke. After all, she'd been the one who consistently wanted to deny any idea he had of breaking them out. She'd protected Aizen, tried to reject his plan of escaping into the desert, and left him at every turn to go and meet up with their warden. Surely she hadn't changed her mind now?

However, there was no sign of jesting on her face to be found. Only somber determination.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I've been thinking about this for a while now, but was unsure how to bring it up," she trailed off for a moment. "There's a way I might be able to get you out, but I couldn't risk it with Ulquiorra here. Now he seems to have been pulled away on a mission, so maybe…"

Ichigo shot up off the couch, giving her his full attention.

"You've been here longer than me, Inoue. If you've got any ideas, let's hear it," he replied, his expression dead serious. For a moment she was stunned he was taking her so seriously, when usually in the past he would often ignore her thoughts or outright dismiss them.

"Okay," she exhaled, gathering her thoughts in a way she wanted to convey. "When I was first approached in the Senkaimon, the guards who were escorting me were nearly slaughtered. Looking back on it now, they were probably only spared to keep me cooperative. As I was healing them, I was told I had one of two options; be forcefully taken and watch my friends die, or go willingly and allow you and the others to live."

Ichigo blinked as he took in this bit of information. It wasn't the first time she'd mentioned the occurrence to him, but it was the first time he'd heard all the details. A part of him internally fumed, wanting to slaughter whoever had been the one to initially take her from the Senkaimon. If it weren't for them, she likely never would have been brought to Hueco Mundo to begin with…

"Of course I chose the latter." Orihime sighed as she recalled the events. Looking down, she found it hard to make eye contact with him and instead focused on the dark red color of her rug. "It was to make it look like I had betrayed you, even though that was never my intention."

"Inoue…" Ichigo uttered, momentarily stunned. All this time, even though he refused to outwardly denounce her, he had internally been warring with the idea she had abandoned them of her own choosing. He knew better, but his insecurities had still been a voice whispering in his head.

"I was given a bracelet and told to say goodbye to one person, and one person alone, knowing that I would inevitably go heal you." Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the blush rising on her cheeks at the meaning behind that confession, she raised her eyes back to his. "That bracelet has the ability to completely mask its bearer's presence from everyone except Ulquiorra." She paused for a moment to let that information sink in.

"You mean…"

Orihime nodded. "Yes. With it, the bracelet can make you not only spiritually invisible, but physically, as well. You can pass through barriers and solid walls without notice. No one will be able to see or sense you so long as you are wearing it."

"Are you serious?" he breathed in near disbelief. It sounded too good to be true.

"Yes." Orihime nodded again, clasping her hands in front of her as she stared him down. Her back straightened and eyes hardened as her shoulders squared themselves. This was the part she knew he was going to fight her on. She had to remain resolute and convince him of just how serious she truly was. "I still have that bracelet, Kurosaki-kun. And I want you to take it and escape from here immediately."

Ichigo stepped forward and opened his mouth to protest, but Orihime shook her head, cutting off any further retort he may have had.

"I would have told you to do this sooner, but with Ulquiorra here, it would have been pointless. He would have caught you just like he did out in the desert." Clenching her hands together tighter, she continued. "Now that he's been gone for so long, I feel like this may be your only chance. You need to hurry, before he-"

"Are you crazy?!" he suddenly interrupted, causing Orihime to stop short. "There's no way I'm leaving here without you, Inoue!" Ichigo slashed an arm through the air, as if cutting down the very idea of it.

Orihime huffed out a small breath, partially out of frustration and partially out of fondness for his stubborn nature. Shaking her head again, she looked back at him with sad eyes. "Kurosaki-kun, you have to. There's no other way-"

Ichigo suddenly raced up to her, gripping her shoulders as he stared down into her eyes intently. Orihime's breath caught in her throat at the abrupt shift as she looked up into his fierce gaze.

"I already said there's no way I'm leaving without you. You're out of your mind if you think I'd be okay with that."

"K-Kurosaki-kun…" she exhaled softly, realizing that before the war she would have given anything for him to look at her like that. Now, she desperately wished for the green eyes of their warden to return such a gaze. She also wished the man in front of her would just listen to reason for once. "Please don't make this any harder than it has to be…"

"Like I give a shit if something is hard or not," he huffed, averting his eyes for just a moment. "We're not leaving here unless it's together, that's just the way it is."

The finality with which he said those words made her smile, despite herself. He always had to be her knight in shining armor, even when she never asked for it. Still, this was one occasion where she couldn't allow him to win.

"You need to escape and rejoin the others. You can't stay here any longer. Please, just-" Orihime gasped, cutting her words short as another painful jolt shot through her abdomen.

Hunching over and grabbing her stomach, Orihime couldn't stop the sharp hiss from leaving her lips.

"Inoue?!" Ichigo held her shoulders tighter when he felt her body sinking lower. Suddenly, and to his horror, she cried out and doubled over in his arms. "Inoue!" His voice betrayed his concern, the worry only tempered as he helped to lower her onto her knees on the floor.

"I-I'm sorry…" she panted, her breath nearly stolen. "I just need a moment-"

"Stop pretending that you're ok!" he suddenly shouted, on his knees with her as he continued to hold tight to her shoulders.

Shocked, her eyes widened as she stared up at his face, which was twisted in a grimace of conflicting emotions. Anger and concern battled one another in his eyes as they stared harshly down at the hand she held over her belly.

"You think I haven't noticed something is wrong with you?" He gritted his teeth. "You're not alone anymore, Inoue. I'm here!" His fingers dug into her shoulders as he vented his frustration. "How can you expect me to just leave you when you've already been alone all this time? When everyone else seemed to have given up on you and called you a traitor, I knew better. You'd never give up on us! So how…how can you expect me to just walk away from you when I finally have you back in my sights?"

"Kurosaki-kun…" Orihime's eyes watered as she gazed up at his tormented face. She could feel the way his hands shook as he continued to hold onto her. She hardly knew what to say.

Clenching his jaw, Ichigo turned until his fringe hid the better part of his eyes, until she could only see the rigid muscles in his jaw as he frowned. "I-Inoue…are you…?"

For a moment her heart stopped in terror.

Then, quite unexpectedly, whatever dam she had been holding back seemed to break at his words, at the fact that he clearly knew, at the fact that she had apparently been horrible at hiding the glaring reality that she was pregnant, and at the fact it was clear to him who the father was. Like a flood, all her fears and heartbreak came bubbling to the surface.

Suddenly, she threw herself into his chest where she proceeded to sob uncontrollably. It wasn't the delicate, shallow tears she had repeatedly cried throughout the duration of her imprisonment. It was deep, soulful sobs that wracked her body.

He froze only for a moment before settling his hands tremulously back onto her shoulders. He frowned at the feel of them shaking harshly under his grip as she cried.

"I'm so scared, Kurosaki-kun," she breathed against his chest, barely able to get the words out. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

He didn't reply.

She didn't need him to. She just needed him to be there.

"You have to leave," she reiterated her earlier statement. "You need to get out while you still can."

Ichigo realized in that moment that she was right. This may be their last chance. He had to get out, and only in doing so could he return for her. She couldn't remain a prisoner, she couldn't face those burdens alone when none of it would have happened to her if she hadn't been taken…if she hadn't been involved, at the root of it, all because of him.

Sinking his fingers into her, he pulled her back harshly and leaned down.

"Come with me," he said, dead serious.

"W-what?"

"I said, come with me." His eyes narrowed as her sobs ebbed a degree. "You have more leeway around here than me. We can use the bracelet on me, by the time we reach our friends-"

"You don't understand, I can't," she pleaded with him.

"Why?!"

"Because I love him!"

Orihime could hardly bear the look that passed over him in the seconds that followed. Ichigo looked as if someone had just doused his fire - the one thing keeping him warm in a freezing wasteland - with a buck of cold water.

"Inoue…you can't…" he breathed in disbelief and she honestly wasn't certain what it was that he believed she couldn't do, couldn't have done. "How can you?" However, one look down into her tear-stricken face was all he needed as an answer. Words failed her, only the heart wrenching look in her eyes remained. She stared up at him, her round face flush with tear stains, and he could see the longing in her eyes.

Careful, as if she were suddenly made of porcelain, his hands lifted to her face, cradling her cheeks as he leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers.

"I'll come back for you. I swear it." His eyes closed as he swore to himself to uphold that promise.

"I know you will, Kurosaki-kun," she exhaled in relief, grateful to have such a friend. Of course he wouldn't abandon her, regardless of whose child was growing inside her. She was a fool for ever thinking such a thing. Reaching up, she lightly touched the back of his wrist in humble gratitude.

"When I bring you back to Karakura Town, I'm going to take responsibility for his mistakes," he suddenly professed, throwing her out of her reverie.

"What are you saying?" she breathed the words, her eyes suddenly wide as they stared up at him, his forehead still on hers.

"Soul Society would never allow it, Inoue. You wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for me. I can't leave you alone again…" his eyes clenched shut tighter, as if the thought pained him.

If Orihime thought words had failed her before, she was left speechless now, rendered mute. For a moment, she didn't inhale any air, and could only stare blindly at the young man in front of her, offering his future for something he had no real part in creating.

A year ago, Orihime would have fainted at such a proposition. She would have been over the moon with happiness. Now, all she felt was dread sinking into her gut at the grave she was digging for herself.

She wondered briefly, who was going to be the first to leap into that grave; herself, Ichigo, or Ulquiorra.

"I..I can't allow you to do that, Kurosaki-kun…" Her lips quivered as she spoke. "You can't give your life up for this. It's not your burden to bear."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"But…Kuchiki-san,"

"Tch." Ichigo abruptly jerked his head back from hers and glared off to the side petulantly. "What's that midget got to do with any of this?" he scoffed, the look on his face having gone from a serious expression of his declarations, to a scowling irate mess of blushes and frowns. He looked very much like a young boy adamantly denying he'd just had his hand in the cookie jar.

Unable to help herself, Orihime's features softened. She knew better than to believe those words. He could deny it all he wanted, but Orihime had seen too much, had grown up too fast in the last several months to be blind to the feelings he had for the little Shinigami woman.

With both hands, Orihime reached up and turned his face back to her. Smiling gently, she couldn't help the happy blush that spread across her cheeks. "Thank you, Kurosaki-kun. But I'll talk him down first so you won't have to keep that promise. I swear."

Ichigo's eyes widened slightly at the sight of her smile, at the feel of her soft hands on his cheeks and the depth of her proclamation. Pursing his lips slightly, he tried to fight the heat rising from his neck. He tried to calm the sudden racing of his heart at realizing the true depth and color of her brown eyes, and the pink tint of her lips, or how smooth and flawless her skin really was.

Instead, he huffed and jerked his face free before that heat rising in his cheeks could meet her hands and give him away. "Whatever. Good luck talking any sense into that asshole."

Orihime could only chuckle obliviously as her hands returned to her lap, still smiling up at him. "Maybe, but I have to try."

"Keh, sounds like you been trying for a while…" he mumbled. He couldn't help the bitterness in his voice and tried to ignore the small wince she gave at that statement. Feeling guilty for the underhanded jab, he attempted to rectify it with clarification. "All I'm saying is that guy's a lost cause. He's chosen his path in life, Inoue. It isn't a good one."

"No one's a lost cause, Kurosaki-kun. I think you know that better than anyone."

Ichigo sighed in resignation at the resolute gleam in her eyes and the gentle but serious expression on her face. He didn't fight her further when she stood up on wobbly legs and walked back over to her vanity. He observed silently as she pulled the drawer open again and lifted a small linen square from the back.

Realizing what she was holding, he stood up as she turned and made her way back to him.

"You will have to move fast. Although it will stop them from detecting you by either sight or senses, it won't stop them from realizing your presence has suddenly vanished. They will immediately know something is wrong and will likely come to investigate. At that point, I don't know if they will have a way to negate the effects of the bracelet. If they do, your presence will be revealed and there will be nothing more I can do…"

"I guess that means I'll just have to get out before it gets to that point."

"Yes." Orihime nodded once.

"There's only one problem," Ichigo began as he gripped his chin in thought. "I don't know this place nearly as well as you do, Inoue. You remember how our last breakout into the desert went. This place is like a maze to me, I'll inevitably get lost before I even get close to escaping…" Ichigo scratched the back of his neck in frustration. "Man, how am I supposed to navigate the palace fast enough to blow this joint."

"With this," Orihime supplied helpfully. With a little flick of her wrist, she unfolded the linen square housing the bracelet. There, upon the inside of the cloth, sat the silver bangle, and drawn on the linen cloth was a map.

"Huh? What's this?" Ichigo stepped closer to examine the objects.

"It's a map of the quickest way out of here…at least to the best of my knowledge." She blushed sheepishly as her eyes trailed off to the side self-consciously.

"No way," Ichigo blinked down at the items in her hand. "You've really planned this out, huh? Just how long have you been thinking about this, Inoue?" He glanced back up to her, taking note of her embarrassed but shy smile.

"Ever since you were brought here, I've wanted to help get you out in any way that I could. Now I can, so please, try your best, Kurosaki-kun."

Amazing…

As soon as it emerged, Ichigo quickly squashed the thought, refusing to dwell on the unexpected rush of admiration that struck him when thinking of how focused and determined she was in planning such a thing. Had she always been that resourceful? She'd always presented herself as nothing more than a clumsy but light-hearted girl whenever he'd bothered to take the time to notice her in school, but he'd never really cared to delve deeper into her personality and accomplishments outside of her capabilities at healing and defense.

"A long time ago, Ulquiorra once took me with him to an area that was far outside the general premises of the dome. Ultimately, that place led even further out into the Menos Forest, where you were last with our friends. There were Arrancar there, I think they called them Privaron. None of the other Espada seem to ever have an interest in venturing into those territories, in fact I'm certain it was forbidden. Though not without some measure of strength, those Privaron still seemed much weaker than the rest of the Espada, meaning you would have a better chance of fighting back if you are discovered. If Ishida-kun is part of the group, I also have no doubt that after careful evaluation, he will choose this place to begin a breach of the castle walls." She paused in thought as she considered how to convey the next part of her plan. "Just as important, there was once a vault I came across in that direction…"

Orihime swallowed back the memory of said vault; of Patros and his goons, of a dead Ulquiorra in her arms and a raging Grimmjow lashing out at her. "It once held an imitation of the Hogyoku. Although it was a fake, I'm certain there were other things of importance held in that room. I cannot say for sure, but maybe this is where your Zanpakuto is being kept. I think this would be your best option for an escape route, Kurosaki-kun."

Orihime stood before him, her hands outstretched like an angel offering him a last chance of freedom at the price of hers. He was left breathless as he took in the full scope and attention to detail she had poured into the plan.

"Grimmjow-kun has been lurking near the tower, as well as Harribel-san. Once you slip on the bracelet, they'll start closing in. I'll leave the tower and head west to distract them, while you head the opposite direction."

Outside the tower, the sandstorm continued to rage just as fiercely as ever. Billows of sand and clouds would occasionally pass in front of the moon, blocking out its light before illuminating them once again when they passed. The moonlight shone down through the window, causing her hair to illuminate like a beacon in the darkness, the shadows of the storms swirling around her like a vortex. Ichigo swallowed hard when he began noticing things he never had before, like the length of her lashes as she looked up at him, or the flattering way her bangs framed her face. When she suddenly surrounded him in the glistening and golden glow of her healing powers, his attention snapped back up to her eyes. Most of his wounds had resolved themselves in the short week since she'd mended his leg, but a few remained.

Apparently she was going to make sure he was fully recovered before he left. He smiled softly as he stepped forward. That was definitely like the Inoue he knew and remembered. Always thinking of others above herself. Placing a hand on top of the items in her outstretched ones, he smiled down at her, unaware of the softening of his eyes as he did so.

"I swear to come back for you, Inoue."

Orihime made a soft noise of affirmation in her throat and merely smiled back at him in agreement.

"My heart is with you and the others. Please be careful, Kurosaki-kun."

With that said, Ichigo took the items from her hand and lifted the bracelet to his arm. He gave her one last glance before hardening his eyes and slipping it onto his wrist…

.

.

.

Orihime panted as she ran through the bridge that closed the gap between the Fourth tower and the dome of Las Noches. Even if it was this one small act, she was determined to rectify the mistakes she'd made since Ichigo had been imprisoned along with her.

Sweat beaded her brow as she paused in one of the hallways she was traversing. Her hand pressed against one of the walls to support herself as she felt another strong cramp rip through her abdomen. A twinge of worry bubbled up inside her, knowing it wasn't the usual type of cramp one felt from instances of physical exertion.

Pushing the concern to the back of her head, she plowed on. Thankfully, Harribel hadn't been in the area when they'd enacted their plan. However, Grimmjow had stayed stubbornly diligent in prowling the area around the tower. The moment Ichigo had slipped that bracelet on, Grimmjow had practically sprung on them like a lion.

She could feel his chaotic reiatsu closing in fast and knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up to her. She'd been able to sense the hesitancy in his movements when she'd bolted, clearly unsure of whether he should follow her energy signature or head to her cell where Ichigo's presence had last been felt.

In the end, Orihime had sighed heavily in relief when he'd chosen to follow her. Mercifully, all had gone according to plan.

"Where ya running off to, princess?" Grimmjow's voice yelling out from the end of the hall behind her froze Orihime in her tracks. She had known it wouldn't belong before she was caught, but to have him react so quickly had still surprised her.

She cast him one lingering glance over her shoulder, eyes widening in realization that if he found out Ichigo wasn't with her and truly escaped, they would close in on her friend before he could even get out of the dome. His figure loomed large and imposing at the far end of the hall, his shoulders tense and rigid. She could practically feel the waves of reiatsu pulsing off of him.

Turning on her heel, she made to run away from the blue haired Espada at her back.

Regardless of knowing she wouldn't get far, she was going to buy Ichigo any small amount of time she could manage.

"Get back here! Damn it, you little-" Grimmjow cursed when he saw her turn tail and run. With a huff of annoyance, he stalked after her, barely even speeding up his gate. She had been slowing down for a while now, and at this point, he was closing in on her without any real effort. His brow furrowed when he noticed just how winded the girl was.

He knew she wasn't exactly the pinnacle of physical aptitude, but still…she shouldn't have been so exhausted from such a short chase…

His eyes narrowed even further when she suddenly stopped and hunched over mid-chase. She stood there for only a moment longer before she fell against the wall, bracing herself against it as she slid slowly to the floor.

Was this some type of trick?

"Oi!" he shouted. "What the hell are you up to, princess?" Grimmjow scowled as he narrowed the gap between them. "If this is some ploy cooked up by you and Kurosaki, I'm not gonna take it easy on him like Ulquiorra!" Orihime didn't once seem to acknowledge his words. Instead, she grasped at her stomach and nearly doubled over from her place on the floor. "Hey! I'm talking to-"

Grimmjow cut himself short as he finally came up on her, his eyes widening as he took in her countenance.

The girl was slumped against the wall, sweating through her clothes and pale as a sheet, panting like she hadn't an ounce of air in her lungs.

"G-Grimmjow-kun," she called pitifully as her eyes raised to him. He nearly flinched back at the pleading look in their brown depths. "H-help…please…" Her voice was soft as the sand sliding against the dunes of Hueco Mundo.

"The hell?!" he gritted his teeth when she unexpectedly sagged to the floor, out cold.

A sudden memory of her laying on the ground after he'd thrown her into the wall of the arena flashed through his mind, causing him to take an abrupt step back. His hands clenched as he tried to bury the thought along with all the annoying feelings it brought along with it.

He began to turn on his heel, convincing himself that whatever her issue was, it wasn't his problem. She was Ulquiorra's responsibility. It wasn't his fault the pale bastard had been missing for nearly a week. It wasn't his fault she was out there in the hall looking like shit. It wasn't his duty to look after her. The only thing he was interested in was Ichigo Kurosaki, and the boy clearly wasn't with her.

Whatever stunt they were trying to pull, she was obviously meant to be a distraction.

Grimmjow didn't care that she was lying helpless and defenseless in a heap on the floor.

He clenched his fists tighter and felt his shoulders tense up when another flash of her limp and lifeless at his hand struck him. He wanted to curse and yell at her for causing him so much inner turmoil.

However, when he glanced back at her, the words died in his throat.

His blue eyes widened in near horror as he watched a small pool of blood begin to form under her. The feeling sunk lower in his gut when he realized it wasn't from a visible wound or any obvious injury. The red painted the pure white color of her dress around her thighs, running in slowly spreading rivulets that seemed to reach for him on the floor.

Before he could control his actions, or even think about it, Grimmjow was kneeling on the floor beside her, his hand hesitant to touch her.

"Hey, princess," he called again, although decidedly less aggressive than before. This was more blood than when he'd accidentally busted her head open on that wall. "Hey," he repeated, gently laying a hand on her shoulder to shake her. She was getting paler by the second.

"Shit," Grimmjow spat the word intensely when he suddenly felt her spiritual pressure slipping away.

There were few times Grimmjow could recall feeling fear in his life. Though rare, he had experienced it. However, he couldn't recall ever feeling such an emotion for anyone other than himself, or for his desires and his goals.

Now, feeling her frail shoulder under his palm, seeing her bleeding out more blood than he knew a human could possess and sensing her life essence fading right before his eyes, Grimmjow felt that undeniable fear constrict his chest like never before.

What if he never got to see her stupid smile again? Or make her cry or hurt her? Or have her forgive him for shit he never deserved forgiving for, or even asked for such forgiveness? What if he never heard her annoying laugh again, or managed to get a blush out of her? What if he never got to touch her soft skin or smell her in the air when she passed him in the halls? Who was he going to stir up trouble with now?

Swallowing hard, he moved on auto-pilot as his arms slipped carefully underneath her, treating her as if she were the most fragile glass he'd ever held.

"You better not be dying on me, you stupid bitch." He tried to sound harsh and cruel, but he hated that his voice trembled slightly. "You hear me?" Unable to stop himself, he pulled her closer to his chest, lowering his head as he pressed his face into the crevice of her neck and shoulder. "I honestly can't stand you sometimes…count yourself lucky I'm bothering to help your sorry ass."

His hands shook when he felt just how limp she was against him, how there wasn't a single flush of life on her flesh.

She weighed practically nothing in his arms as he stood, disturbing him with just how lifeless she truly was. So different from her usual animated and emotional self.

Not knowing where else to go, and suspecting time was not on his side, Grimmjow used sonido to hasten his journey to the infirmary.

For once, whatever Ichigo Kurosaki was up to could wait…there was something more important he had to take care of.

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Torches lined the walls of the crossroads Ichigo had found himself in. The bright red flames cast dancing shadows on the wall as he stood at the center of the circular room.

"Shit…" he mumbled, still out of breath from the daunting marathon he'd just endured running out of the palace. He was certain he was getting further and further from the castle proper. The walls were beginning to look less and less refined with every mile he gained. Their once pristine white wash was becoming dingy the further he ran and, at times, they were nothing more than mere basic and rustic stone blocks. Surely it was a good sign he was gaining distance.

Ichigo reached into his pocket and pulled out Orihime's map to double check. She had been right about everything up until this point. His Zanpakuto and even his old clothes were in the vault she had marked with a little heart on the map, as well as the directions to get out of the main part of the castle.

However, he didn't see any sign of a crossroads marked anywhere on his map…which meant he'd taken a wrong turn.

Sighing roughly, he stuffed the linen back into his pocket and faced the doorways in front of him.

Just as he was about to make a decision – a.k.a random guess – on which direction to head, Ichigo sensed a disturbance and instinctively reached to his back to grip the handle of his sword. However, almost in shock, he began to feel the very strong and very familiar reiatsu of his comrades closing in on his location fast.

"No way…" he uttered, eyes locked on the wall. Behind it, he could hear the muffled voices of Ishida and Renji. There was no way Inoue had also been right about the likelihood of their parties merging on this path, but it looked like that very scenario would be playing out.

When the wall was suddenly blasted down with a solid punch from Chad's arm, Ichigo's eyes widened as the dust slowly began to clear.

Chad's tall, muscular form was the first one to come into view, swiftly followed by Ishida, Renji, Nel and her brothers, and…

"Rukia," like her very name was sacred, he uttered it with a sharp intake of air.

Dust was still settling as the party boldly stepped into the room, each of them seeming to pay little mind to Ishida's constant lecturing on the need to be as cautious as possible now that they were in an area that was clearly no longer abandoned.

Rukia brushed some hair from her eyes as she calmly followed suit and stepped into the room. Her brown cloak hung on her form, hiding her petite body that his memories suddenly and treacherously decided to dredge up to the surface of his mind.

Relief flooded his veins, offering respite where he'd pridefully refused to acknowledge how desperately he'd needed it. She was alive.

All of them were alive.

"Guys!" Ichigo rushed forward, his hand reaching out to them, only for it to pass right through Rukia's arm. Shock stopped him in his tracks, momentarily causing him to forget about the bracelet on his wrist. Looking down at said object, he briefly wondered if this was how Inoue had felt when she'd visited his room one last time to heal him before they took her away. Being unable to touch or speak to the very people she was trying desperately to save.

Looking back up at his friends, they all walked past him like he was a ghost, completely invisible to the six senses. They talked and conversed amongst each other, debating on what to do with the five-way split that was presented before them.

Clenching his fist, Ichigo hesitated to remove the bangle.

What would they say to him? When they figured out he'd had Inoue in his grasp and he'd left her behind. Let alone the state that she'd been in…he couldn't tell them that. It was honestly too much for him to take in at the moment. Or the fact that he'd volunteered to take responsibility for another man's child? He didn't know what exactly he'd been thinking when he'd proposed such a thing. Though, Ichigo half suspected that was his problem: he didn't think.

He just reacted.

Yet, he'd known then, with her crying in his arms, dragged into a war she had nothing to do with, apparently in love with a Hollow that seemed more dangerous and sinister than the lot of them combined, Ichigo couldn't just leave her to the wolves. Human society would shun her, Soul Society might imprison her or worse, the school may expel her, and few men would be willing to date, let alone marry, a single woman that young with a baby attached to her hip.

That secret he would keep. The rest of the story, however…

Ichigo grit his teeth.

Ishida would be the one most likely to lay into him. Renji would disapprove but understand, but Rukia, what would she think?

Steeling himself, he stood behind them and ripped the bracelet off with one decisive yank.

Like the most anti-climactic moment in a movie, Ichigo Kurosaki just stood there and blinked in confusion when not a single one of them turned around to notice him.

The hell?! He raged in his mind as they continued about their conversation like he was still just a fly on the wall. These assholes…!

Were they ignoring him?!

Indignant, Ichigo threw the bracelet to the floor hard. At the dainty little 'plink' of a noise, every head in the room whipped around to him, hands grasping their weapons at the ready.

"Are you guys seriously ignoring me?!" he demanded, his face still set in a petulant scowl. "Seriously, I come all this way, and after all this time you just act like I'm not even here? Talk about rude!" His fists were balled at his sides as he berated them.

Shock plastered itself onto all of their faces as they took in the sight of him. One of his feet stomped in indignant outrage as he rambled on, and a mixture of disbelief and confusion washed over their eyes.

"Kurosaki?" Ishida was the first to break the silence. His clothes had been mended since they'd last seen him, his injuries apparently healed. Yet, they were all thinking the same thing;

"Why can't we sense your Spiritual Pressure?" Renji voiced the one thought on all their minds.

"Huh?" Ichigo stopped short when he realized what they were all saying. Suddenly, he remembered he still had on the reiatsu suppressing collar. Reaching up, he lightly touched the device around his neck, completely ignoring Nel who had already attached herself to his back like a parasite. "Oh, yeah…I forgot about this thing…"

Before he could finish that thought, Rukia marched right up to him and slapped him hard across the back of the head, knocking him face first into the floor.

"Damn it…" Ichigo's low, raging growl bubbled up from his throat as he lifted his face from the gritty texture of the floor. "Stop doing that already! And here I thought you'd be happy to see me!"

"Don't ever sneak up on us like that again," Rukia berated. "Just what did you think you were doing? We could have attacked you…and judging by that collar on your neck, you wouldn't have been able to defend yourself, either."

Glancing up at her over his shoulder, Ichigo's brow lifted slightly when he realized just how intuitive and observant she had been in such a short amount of time.

"Yeah…glad to see you're okay, too, Rukia," Ichigo droned sarcastically, giving her a droll stare that she merely crossed her arms and stuck up her nose to.

"Ichigo." Chad stepped forward then, his calm and steady presence bringing them all back to the matter at hand. "What happened?"

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.

.

"...and that's everything that happened. I left her in her room at least over a day ago…"

Ichigo sighed as he finished recounting his story, being sure to omit certain details about Orihime's current state of possible motherhood. They had long since removed the collar from around his neck, mercifully offering his reiatsu a chance to finally flow freely through his body. He had felt like he could finally breathe for the first time in weeks.

Before any of the group could offer up questions, Ichigo was thrown back into the wall by the sudden impact of Ishida's fist connecting with his face. The back of his head smacked the cement wall and Ichigo nearly saw stars.

The Quincy certainly hadn't held back.

"You coward!" Ishida roared and stormed up to his strawberry blonde classmate, overlooking a weeping Nel who fussed over the sight of him being attacked. "You just left her behind?!"

"Ishida, calm down," Chad interrupted and stood up to place a calming hand on his shoulder. "Didn't you hear what Ichigo just told us? They clearly had no choice. This was Inoue-san's idea to begin with." He took no offense when Ishida ripped his shoulder free and turned away to adjust his glasses. "Nobody here was trying as hard as Ichigo was to reach her during those months following her capture. Do you really think he'd leave her behind now?" he asked honestly.

Ishida merely looked further away, stubbornly staying quiet. Ichigo's own head was lowered in guilt and shame.

"Listen, I wasn't happy about leaving her again like that. Hell, I'm downright pissed," he explained sternly through a clenched jaw. "But someone once told me not to let her sacrifices go to waste." Pushing himself from the wall, Ichigo dusted himself off and turned to walk up to the five empty black doorways on the opposite wall. "So now that we've all rejoined, let's go get her back!"

Rukia and Renji rose from their seats and approached him to stand in solidarity. Nel and her brothers quietly watched the scene unfold before them.

"There are five paths," Chad supplied as he, too, stood with them.

With a resigned and reluctant sigh, Ishida finally gave way, as well. "I guess that means we just have to check each one out?"

"No." It was Rukia this time that spoke up. "Let's go down separate paths at the same time."

Ichigo's eyes widened as he turned to her, a protest on the tip of his tongue. She stood there, shadowed by the large hole Chad had first made when they'd come into the room. He'd only just reunited with her, again, and now she was suggesting they all split ways? There was no way.

She was looking at him with that calm, resolute stare. As if she already knew what his next words would be and she was prepared to endure them.

"What are you saying?! We're talking about Espada! It's better if we all move together!" he objected. After all, he'd had first hand experience with some of them, and according to Orihime the 'Privaron' that lay further ahead of them weren't nearly as strong. Yet, the crazy amount of Spiritual Pressure radiating out from those doorways still spoke to immensely powerful foes lurking in their depths. He wanted to suggest he had a map, one that Orihime had drawn herself, but he'd already taken a wrong turn and gotten lost. The map was as good as useless at their current location. "If we become separated again–"

"Stop." Renji's arm was suddenly between them, cutting him off from further protest. "It's an insult to show concern for another warrior's welfare."

He could only stare at her, standing behind Renji's larger frame. His eyes wavered slightly, at a loss for words and near on the verge of begging her to reconsider.

"Ichigo." Rukia closed her eyes. "I know you're saying that out of concern for me, but it's not like you. I told you…you need not worry about me. I did not come here for you to protect me!"

Ichigo looked at her down the bridge of his nose, taking in the full scope of her declaration. There was just something in the way she said those words; the sternness in her countenance, the pride and bravery, the self-ownership she carried herself with, that always fired him up and constantly reminded him of how badly, desperately and hungrily he wanted her. The few moments he'd been granted to hold her out in the desert of Hueco Mundo only solidified those feelings like cement in his heart.

Rukia was strong.

She didn't need his hero-complex breathing down the back of her neck like the rest of his friends did.

"Fine," he closed his eyes in concession. "Let's go down separate paths."

"Alright!" Renji called in a rallying shout. "Then, before we leave, let's do a cheer for good luck!"

"A cheer?"

"Yeah…it's an old tradition done by the Gotei Thirteen before big battles. It's fallen out of use and most squads don't do it anymore, but I figure this is the right occasion for it." Pulling his hand out of his pocket, he held it out before him and shouted again, "Come on! Hands together!"

Everyone just stared at him awkwardly.

Ishida scowled. Was this Soul Reaper seriously out here trying to bolster their spirits with a 'hip-hip-hooray' cheer? Ludicrous…

"Tch," Ichigos scoffed as he finally gave in, unable to resist the pull despite the absurdity of it.

Soon after, all the hands of their party joined in as they gathered in a small circle.

"The time of battle is upon us!" Renji roared. "Believe that our blades will not shatter! Believe that our hearts will not yield! Though our paths may diverge, our iron will is one! Swear, that the land itself may split asunder, but to this place we will return alive!"

With a unified sound of agreement, each of them turned their backs and headed down a separate hall, never once looking behind them.

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Servants dodged left and right as the terrifying presence of Aizen Sosuke narrowed in on the infirmary that was currently abuzz with activity. Rumors were spreading faster than any of the healers could stop them, drawing in several Arrancar from around the dome to come and investigate the truth behind the gossip they had heard.

Most kept their distance, their self-preservation outweighing their curiosity. After all, a scandal this big only promised disaster. None of them wanted to be caught up in the aftermath.

Still, many lingered in the area, hoping to catch whatever morsels of information might come their way.

Aizen Sosuke's ward; the very human girl whom he'd dispatched one of his strongest soldiers to the living realm to retrieve, the one whom half the Espada had fallen victim to her charms, the one with powers toeing the realm of the gods, the very one whom Aizen himself had deemed untouchable to any of his subordinates, was now bedridden and with child, having somehow conceived life with none other than the Cuatro Espada himself. The one man their Master had trusted with the delicate task of guarding his precious treasure.

Many dismissed it as a baseless rumor. It was surely impossible. A Hollow impregnating a human?

Some whispered conspiracies that it had been Aizen's plan all along and Ulquiorra was merely fulfilling a duty. After all, for what other reason would their Lord's most obedient Espada rebel in such a way?

It was tantamount to treachery.

Even Nnoitra, debauched serial-deviant that he was, had not touched her.

The moment the news reached Aizen's quarters, residents all around the dome stopped in their tracks as they felt the air and ground around them tremble briefly.

When his powerful aura began to move smoothly toward the infirmary, the gossiping abruptly stopped as the halls cleared.

Aizen calmly approached the large glass doors that sat propped open as a series of medical staff and doctors hurried in and out of the room. Inside there were rows upon rows of pure white cots, all of which were empty save one. A group of Arrancar hovered around the still figure that lay carefully tucked under the sheets. Even from such a distance, Aizen could see the bright red of her hair peeking out from behind the nurses tending to her.

Grimmjow stiffened from his place outside the sickbay when he saw Aizen. His blue haired Espada was leaning against a wall not too far from the glass doors, eyes downcast in a mixture of emotions Aizen could not recall seeing on his rambunctious subordinate before that day.

Uncrossing his arms, Grimmjow dropped his hands into his pockets and avoided eye contact as his Master drew near.

Aizen's own eyes narrowed at the unusual display.

"Is it true?" his warm voice asked, not giving away the silent storm brewing inside.

The Sexta merely reached up and rubbed the back of his neck none too gently. Clearly the man was nervous…or troubled. Aizen, for once, couldn't discern which.

Grimmjow roughly cleared his throat. "I found her inside the dome…a few hours' walk from the Fourth tower."

"And?"

He flinched at the bite in Aizen's tone when he didn't immediately continue. "She was laying in one of the halls, bleeding out and unconscious…Ichigo Kurosaki is also gone. You'll have to talk to the medical staff to confirm the rest."

At the moment, Aizen hardly cared about Ichigo Kurosaki's absence. He'd never wanted the boy in Las Noches so soon, anyways. As far as he was concerned, his escape was merely his plans falling smoothly back into place.

The girl, however…

He strode into the room confidently, barely taking note when the staff, who had all been too busy fussing over the girl to actually notice his encroaching presence, suddenly turned to him in shock. At once, they fell to the floor in deep, revering bows.

"L-Lord Aizen!" they all stammered in unison.

"How is she?" he asked no one in particular.

One of the doctors braved to lift his head and offer an explanation. "She is stable now, My Lord. She was brought to us just in time. Any longer and she may have died from hemorrhage."

"What is wrong with her?" he asked, as if he didn't already know the answer.

Once again, there was heavy hesitation in the man before he answered.

"She's pregnant."

Aizen frowned as he stepped forward and gazed down at the pale girl lying on the cot. Her clothes had been replaced with a gown to better treat her. An arm lay palm up next to her as her chest slowly rose and fell in a steady rhythm. She looked like some cursed princess, all vulnerable and delicate, with her fair skin and shallow breaths.

"She nearly miscarried."

Reaching out, he carefully took her hand in his. He lifted it as he pressed his thumb into the underside of her wrist, as if to double check her heart still beat soundly in her chest. There wasn't an ounce of genuine care in his eyes or behind his actions. Rather, he looked upon her as if a perfect piece of art he had collected had been spoiled beyond repair; rueful, sad, slightly angry.

"I…I believe the sire to be a Hollow," he muttered in fear. "The strain of such a pregnancy on her body was nearly too much."

"Is that even possible?" his smooth voice never once betrayed his rage steadily boiling under the surface.

"Forgive me, but-!" The servant bowed back down. "I do not know. Hollows are often capable of reproducing, but to have done so with a human…it is unheard of. I'm uncertain if it has even been attempted before." He cleared his throat uncomfortably at what that sentence was insinuating. "Perhaps, because of the unusual nature of her powers…?"

To think Ulquiorra had so thoroughly upended his plans. It lit a spark of annoyance inside him he had not felt in decades. His most trusted and faithful soldier, one whom he had admittedly underestimated in this facet, had ruined something he doubted the Cuatro Espada even realized.

He had known the lure of the girl would be strong on the Hollows of Hueco Mundo, but he had clearly been wrong in presuming Ulquiorra would be strong enough to resist her.

He had suspected something was off, but never had he thought it would have gotten so far out of hand. Clearly, his attempts to warn the Cuatro Espada from overstepping his boundaries had not worked. His threats had not only been unheeded, but completely surpassed, and now the damage done was likely irreparable.

Did his soldiers truly think him a flippant enough ruler to warn his men off from the girl out of mere propriety? Or to keep her comfortable? Did they think the virtue of a mere human girl warranted such measures? That he cared?

Ulquiorra had ruined the one thing Aizen had truly brought Orihime Inoue to Hueco Mundo for: her pure soul. Now defiled and corrupted by all things Hollow, tainted by the realm of the dead with that half-breed child developing inside her womb.

Her spirit was what had mattered the most to him. Not just her miraculous powers, not just to use her as a tool for a ceasefire with Soul Society, and not as a lure to trap as many of the Soul Reapers into the realm of the dead…no, all of those things were incomparable to her true reason for being there.

Aizen's eyes hardened as he closed them in frustration.

From somewhere deep within the belly of Las Noches, where he kept the precious jewel hidden, he felt the Hogyoku hunger.

Aizen Sosuke had tried.

He had tried human souls, Shinigami souls, Hollow souls; men, women, children, elderly.

Nothing satisfied it.

Not until Ichigo Kurosaki and his comrades had strolled into the Seireitei so unexpectedly, so long ago, did he understand what could help complete it.

Still holding her hand as if she were a great treasure, his other moved forward to brush a lock of her cinnamon hair away from her brow.

"Do whatever you have to in order to keep her alive and healthy. Do not let her die or it will be your head at the stake."

The pathetic servant trembled on the ground in fear, blindly agreeing even as Aizen straightened and left.

When he stepped back out of the room, Grimmjow still remained at his post by the door, staring holes into the floor in front of him.

"Did you know about this?" Aizen asked when he paused beside the man, watching him from the corner of his eye.

Grimmjow's eyes shot up to Aizen before quickly looking back away in avoidance.

How very unlike the Sexta Espada. He observed in thought.

When he began to raise his Spiritual Pressure, his lips finally loosened.

"I suspected enough," he started, but then clarified. "But I didn't know…I didn't think that was possible. I mean, it's not, right?"

"Clearly it is."

Grimmjow didn't reply. He had nothing more to offer.

"Guard her room until I return. No one else is permitted to enter. Do not touch her. Do not speak to her. Do not look at her. Is this clear?"

"Me?!" The Espada abruptly protested, only to have it die on his tongue at the look Aizen was giving him. He clenched his fists in anger, furious that he had to be the one saddled with her. He wanted to rage and scream, to demand why he had to be the one to help clean up Ulquiorra's mess. However, the constant reminder of the unforgiving amounts of energy Aizen could pummel him with, along with the deep welts that still had yet to heal on his back after his last punishment were enough to keep his tongue in check.

"I understand." He finally submitted.

Only when Aizen had left the building altogether did Grimmjow begin to relax his shoulders.

Never once, in all his numerous punishments – and honestly, there had been so many Grimmjow lost count – had he actually felt any level of true anger, annoyance or any measurable level of emotion coming from the terrifyingly powerful man. He'd always remained the picture of calm and easy control. Like high society, a socialite at his finest.

Today had been the first time he'd sensed such a thing, and Grimmjow recognized the emotion well enough. It was one he felt frequently…

Fury.

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Starrk yawned as he leaned back against one of the walls of the southern entrance of Las Noches. His eyes watered slightly as dust blew in from the massive gates behind him. It was nothing he wasn't used to, his entire existence had been spent out in those sandy dunes. To go a day without those granules grating in his eyelids would have felt strange, like a piece of him was missing.

Turning his head, he took a glance at his partner for this 'mission'.

Harribel stood on the other side of the entryway, behind another wall of her own that she rested her back against, mirroring his position. Her arms were crossed over her chest and an unsettled look lingered at the edges of her turquoise gaze.

"I could really use a nap right about now," he muttered and propped a foot up on the wall behind him as well, just for the extra support in case he managed to doze off.

"You will have plenty enough time for rest after this, I doubt he will cause us any trouble."

Starrk spared her another look.

"You really think it's true?" he asked. Though he was never really curious about such things, he still couldn't help but wonder…

Mouths were in an uproar with gossip, the type that was impossible not to overhear. Especially when it came to one of their own ranks, an Espada.

"That is irrelevant," Harribel answered. "It's not our job to ponder such things. Lord Aizen merely asked us to bring him in."

"Isn't that suspicious enough?"

Harribel didn't respond.

"I didn't think that guy had it in him…" he trailed off. "You got pretty close with her, didn't you? Have you seen or heard from her yet?"

The blonde frowned at him from beneath her collar. "You could say the same for yourself, Starrk," she shot back sternly. "Do you really think any of the Espada didn't notice you sneaking into her room to take naps on her couch?"

"Jeez," he droned in reply. "No need to be defensive, it's not like I was accusing you of anything. I could care less, actually." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

"That so?" her aqua eyes narrowed at him. She could see through the lie well enough.

Starrk had become just as attached to the girl as Harribel had during her imprisonment. Harribel, however, wasn't pathetic enough to fool herself into believing otherwise like Grimmjow, Nnoitra and clearly Starrk, himself, had. If any one of them had been left in charge of the girl, the results would have likely been the same. Even Harribel herself had wanted…

Shaking herself of the thoughts, she turned her attention to the sound of the gates creaking open.

Starrk had also gone silent as they both waited for the appearance of their target.

Footsteps could be heard slicing through the sand before transitioning onto the tile of the floor. Neither of them were surprised when their quarry merely stopped several yards away from the walls they were hiding behind.

Ulquiorra was one of the best fighters she knew in Aizen's ranks and his pesquisa was unparalleled, among other things. His spatial awareness and sharp mind were merely some of the things that made him so deadly. He knew they were there, likely before he entered the castle.

Without the need to communicate her intentions to the Primera, both she and Starrk took the opportunity to step out from behind their respective corners.

If Ulquiorra had been shocked to see them there, he didn't show it. Calm and unbothered, his green eyes regarded each of them coolly before resting a hand casually on the hilt of his sword; an informal statement in itself.

"State your business," he ordered. It never failed to amaze Harribel how, at times, the way he spoke to the top three Espada would never lead one to assume they held a higher rank than him. His lack of hostility and general level-headedness denoted an absence of superiority-complex, and often led the two of them, save Barragan, to treat him with higher respect than his rank suggested. Even going so far as to frequently take orders from him in instances of Aizen's absence.

Ulquiorra Cifer had always held her respect. That was more than any of the men in Las Noches could say, outside of Aizen Sosuke himself.

Rather, he had her respect, until…

Harribel grit her sharp teeth behind the veil of her collar. Her eyes sparked with a rage she rarely felt in her days as an Espada. She refused to deign to respond to him.

She had known. Of course most of the Espada had known. Their senses were far too sharp to miss such an intimate relationship between the two. Still, she hadn't thought he would actually be able to leave the girl in such a condition…

The fault, in her eyes, was his and his alone.

Seeing the Tres wasn't going to loosen up anytime soon, Starrk sighed again and stepped forward.

"Listen, I really don't want to be here, but Lord Aizen ordered us to bring you in, so please don't draw that sword." He held his hands up as if that would help diffuse the situation. Although, there wasn't much to diffuse. None of the three Espada present were particularly violent or short tempered. "You're pretty strong and I don't exactly feel like fighting you. It'd be too much trouble."

"It is protocol to report directly to Lord Aizen upon returning from a mission. This show of force is unnecessary."

"You're probably right," Starrk agreed. "But we're just here to make sure you head straight to the throne room without taking any detours."

There were several passing seconds of tense silence that followed before Ulquiorra closed his eyes and yielded. "Very well," he said calmly and stepped forward. He didn't get past Harribel when her arm suddenly shot out and halted him. Still refusing to speak, her eyes dropped once to his sword and back up to his face.

Both Espada stared the other down fiercely. Emerald green and turquoise blue glared into each other without flinching or wavering. Knowing the futility of it, Ulquiorra kept his eyes locked on hers as his hand reached down and methodically pulled his Zanpakuto from its place at his hip.

Holding the weapon out to her, the woman took the confiscated sword as he turned and moved forward once more, leading the way.

Starrk watched the exchange with sleepy eyes. It wasn't all that surprising Ulquiorra was coming without a fight. The Cuatro usually bent to Aizen's orders without complaint, usually going above and beyond the call of duty.

However, in this one thing, Ulquiorra had failed…in epic proportions.

Starrk was not much of a betting man, but he'd wager Ulquiorra knew exactly why he was getting the special treatment.

Stretching once, he eventually fell into step behind the other two as Ulquiorra led the way.

Regardless, all's the better that he didn't put up a struggle. At least that way, Coyote Starrk didn't have to expend any more energy than he already had for the day.

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TBC

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Please enjoy the new chapter. Thank you so much for your support, it inspired me to write more when I began revising and reposting this story.

Sending love.