Chapter 8

"Now tell me, just how did you manage to acquire so many injuries in such little time?"

Aizen's question comes after Ulquiorra has left the room, Orihime trailing awkwardly behind him. There's no bruising grip on her arm, no dragging or tugging or pushing. Where he's dragged me through the halls of Las Noches like I was too slow to keep up, he simply allows her to walk at her own pace.

Granted, I probably couldn't keep up if he really decided to just Sonido everywhere, but that's not the point of the matter right now. His decision to keep a pace Orihime can follow without needing to be dragged around is.

She even gets her own room, her own uniform, and three-square meals a day if I remember correctly. Where I've been given someone else's clothes to wear, sent on a dangerous mission, tossed about, and strangled. Hell, I haven't eaten and I'm sure I've been here for a day at least. The difference in our treatments is staggering now that I really think about.

Well, she is a guest, after all.

I'm just the crazy human who popped up, unexpectedly and definitely uninvitedly, in Aizen's Fortress of Solitude. Unlike Orihime who was taken for her powers, I'm nothing more than a useless human—worthless.

"You're worthless. Inútil."

Those words come with a memory. One of a man so deep into his bottle, they'd come out slurred and almost unintelligible but no less painful. There'd been many other versions of those words. Hundreds of ways to tear me down, but the message was always the same. To remind me I would never amount to anything. And, up until he'd fucked off four years ago, I heard them every day of my life.

Funny that those words would follow me here.

Even if they're no more than a memory, they hold true. There's no reason for me to be here. I'm probably only still alive for their sadistic amusement. Hell, for all I know Aizen's only trying to see just how long a human can survive here. In his monster infected castle with no abilities, no protection other than an Espada that's really close to killing the useless human himself.

Ulquiorra.

I stare after them even once the doors have swung closed and Aizen has asked his question. The rest of the room waits for my response as well. Having not yet been excused, they have no choice but to wait. Not that they aren't curious about the answer themselves. They all are, so they stare at me, waiting.

Both to see if I'll rat anyone out and to see if anyone will get in trouble for hurting the weak human.

"I…I fell?"

My answer is met with a booming silence. Though I don't know if it's from surprise or confusion as I turn my gaze back to Aizen. Technically, it's not a lie. Most of my injuries hadn't come from the actual physical abuse, but from what had happened after it.

Like Nnoitra tossing me clear across a room.

He had only grabbed me by my hair then, lifting me by it. Even then, that leaves no visible marks so long as you don't actually pull the hair out. Grimmjow's bruises on my neck had been worse than anything Nnoitra's directly done to me. Still, most of my bruises really had come from the aftermath of their manhandling, so I can't really blame them for looking like someone had tried to rip my tongue out or for the bruises that had covered my knees from constantly falling.

It's not their fault I'm weak.

Fragile.

Worthless.

"You fell?" Aizen asks, something like a threat in his voice even as he keeps the amused smile on his face. He doesn't believe for a second that it's true. "You must be very dis-coordinated to fall in such a way to bruise your neck."

"What can I say?" I ask him, refusing to bow down under his threat. Unless any of the abusers suddenly want to start talking, he's not getting a different story. Or unless Starrk starts talking…which I doubt he will. Why would he even think to throw his own people under the bus for a human? "It's a gift! You should see what I can do with a pair of high heels and a flat, even floor. A bruised neck would be the last of my worries then."

"I see."

I've given him ideas. I know I have. Especially when that smile deepens, growing wider in a way I can only describe as evil. Still, Aizen accepts the lie and doesn't ask anymore even though we all know it is a lie. No one, no matter how talented, can bruise their neck from a fall without breaking it.

"If you're slipping this much while barefoot, maybe some shoes are in order then," Aizen decides and I curse my big mouth because I'm definitely going to be put in heels for his amusement. "And certainly, a new uniform as well. We can't continue to have you running around in rags."

"Listen here, you jack—"

The curses build in my mouth, ready to spew out at him but I'm stopped by a large, gurgling growl. If anyone wasn't watching me before, they are now as my stomach rumbles again. Hungry and desperate now that my injuries have been taken care of. With no more pains to block out everything else, my appetite makes itself know viciously, churring loudly.

When did I last eat?

Aizen quirks a brow, amused beyond belief now at the sudden interruption. The blush that crawls up my neck then is hot, burning almost, as it turns my face and even the tips of my ears red. If there was a hole, I would be crawling into it right about now. Unfortunately, there isn't, so I have no choice but to stand there as my stomach continues to sing the song of its people.

Cue the whale noises.

"Well," Aizen says, all signs of his earlier threat gone. Instead, an almost teasing glint comes to his eyes as he leans back in his throne. Resting his chin on his fist, he slouches in his seat, uncaring and relaxed. "Obviously, my hospitality must be more lacking than I realized if you've gone unfed for so long."

Finally, wary enough to shut my mouth, I don't give him a reply. Instead, I just stare at him, watching and waiting to see where exactly he plans to take this conversation. With the source of my bruises established through a very obvious lie, I don't really know what more he could want from me. Well, except answers about Orihime's shield breaking, but I don't have the answers to that, so I don't say anything. Plus, it's not like I can agree about his lack of proper hospitality without offending him further. So for once in my life I do the right thing and keep quiet.

At least he isn't asking about Orihime's shield.

I watch, wary and concerned as Aizen snaps his fingers, drawing any wandering gazes back to him almost instantly. All the Espada return their gazes to him, waiting to see what command he'll spew out next.

There's a tension in the air. One heavy with danger and expectation as we all wait to see what Aizen wants next. No one says anything as he stares down at us in silence. Contemplating something he doesn't share as the tension continues to thicken. That his gaze is centered on me the whole time only serves to fill me with dread.

Is he…is he waiting for me to say something?

The silence continues for so long that, when the doors to the throne room are thrown open, I almost scream.

"Perfect timing, Ulquiorra," Aizen finally says, smile deepening as he doesn't miss the way I almost jump out of my skin. Ulquiorra enters the room slowly, uncaring and unhurried even as Aizen turns his attention to him. "Please acquire some more fitting clothes for that one. Oh, and please feed it."

"Yes, Lord Aizen."

"The rest of you are dismissed," Aizen says, releasing them all from the meeting at the same time. They all walk away as soon as the words are out of Aizen's mouth, almost fleeing from the room when the last syllable is out.

It comes as no surprises when a cold, pale hand grips my arm. It's excepted even so I don't trip when he begins to tug me from the room. I go with him, trying not to drag my feet too much now that I'm fully healed. Though, with no injuries to be mindful of, I keep pace with him easily.

As he tugs me out the throne room doors, I can't help looking back, watching as the rest of the Espadas exit as well. Those that have Fracciónes find them waiting for them outside the throne rooms when they exit. Even Lilynette, who hadn't entered with us, stands there, flashing to Starrk's side as soon as he exits.

I can feel a stare burning into me as I look them over, watching me in return. When my eyes meet teal, blue ones glazed in angered confusion, I know I've found the owner of the stare. I meet his gaze head-on, even as Ulquiorra continues to tug me away so that how I notice he's alone.

Even amongst a sea of Fracciónes, his aren't there and they will never be again. Not when they've already met their end in his failed attempt at killing Ichigo. For someone who was once being the Espada with the most Fracciónes, seeing him alone now tugs at my heart. It reminds me of my own days spent alone.

Of the days before Luz.

Oh god, Luz.

It comes with something that feels a lot like betrayal that I realize I haven't thought of her once. Not since first coming here. The betrayal stings, cutting and vicious. Especially when my every thought really should be about returning home. About getting back to her because we've always promised to stay together. To not let the world and its troubles divide us.

We've always said forever. Ever since we met, back as children too young to know forever really meant until someone grew bored enough to leave. And even learning that through the departure of my father—of my only family—I've continued to promise to stay at her side. And yet, all thoughts of her and returning have left my mind as soon as I caught sight of him.

Of Ulquiorra.

And I would feel more guilty about if I had something to return too. Luz aside, there's nothing—no one waiting for me to return. No family caring enough to even want me back. With the death of my grandma, the last family member to care about me had ended with her. Long distant aunts and uncles disappearing so quickly I can't even remember having any of them.

There's no reason for me to return.

Not when my housing situation is as uncertain as my father's return. All I will be coming back to will be to Isabel kicking me out. And I can't even blame her for it. So maybe returning, if it's even possible, isn't for the best. Not when it'll just cause everyone unnecessary stress.

I may be just as unwanted here, but Luz doesn't need to see her mother kick me out of their home.

My death is imminent here anyway. Slowly creeping closer the longer I stay. So if I linger, maybe it'll reach me before I have to face the decisions waiting back at home. Before I have to head back and deal with the disaster that is my life.

Sweet blissful death, here I come.

"Where are we going?"

Ulquiorra's gaze flashes to me at my question, irritation shining deep within their depths at having been left in charge of me yet again. I just smile at him, no doubt irritating him further and thrilling at the idea. How much does it take to make the emotionless Espada snap?

"To acquire a proper uniform for you and an extra set for myself," he says, voice as cold as always as he continues to lead me forward by the grip on my arm. Maybe it's just me adjusting to always being manhandled, but his grip doesn't feel as bruising as before. "Considering you have managed to destroy the set I have lent you."

"Oh yeah," I mumble, turning sheepish as I realize Ulquiorra was probably expecting his clothes back at soon. If not eventually considering, I probably won't survive for much longer. Or, at least, I really shouldn't. "Sorry about that but your clothes really aren't all that form-fitting."

"Is that what you want?" He asks, gazing going back to me but losing some of his irritation as he seriously considers my words. "To be dressed in something more resembling a second skin."

"No, not at all," I correct him even as I picture myself in a leotard and spandex. Would it make me a superhero, if I did? "I would just like clothing that actually fit. Don't get me wrong, I really am grateful you chose to share with me but your shirts don't even go over my breast."

"I did not share my clothes with you out of the kindness of my heart," he says, eyes dipping down to check that, yeah, his shirt definitely does not fit me. "It was simply much quicker to give you mine than waste time having you fitted for your own. But it seems I no longer have a choice."

"Thank you all the same," I tell him, because, even if it was the lazy route, he had given me clean, fully intact clothing. He could have very easily given me something tore apart and ragged. "If I have a say in my uniform though, can I get a pair of shorts? And an actual blouse. Not that your hakama and vest don't look great on you and all, but it's just not my style."

He nods in agreement at that but says no more. We make the rest of the trip in silence, walking side by side as I match him stride for stride. He may be the shortest of the Espada but he's still taller than me. It's not by much, though, a few inches at most. Five if I remember correctly, but I still match his strides easily enough that I don't lag behind.

As we go, his grip lessens. Without the need to actually drag me along, he loosens his grip until it's more guiding than actually holding on. Which means there hopefully won't be bruise forming this time. Now that Orihime has healed all my aches and pains away, I'm in no hurry to gain them all back again, so I stick close to him.

By the time we reach wherever it is we're going, his grip has loosened enough that his hand has slipped down towards my wrist. Maybe if we had kept going a little bit more, it would have dropped down to my hand. Not that it's any way likely, but it's an entertaining thought.

"We're here," he says as he pushes open a door as white as everything I've seen on the way here. It's only then, as the opening door reveals a room bustling with Arrancars that realize the hallways had been blissfully empty on the way here. The only reason I even realize it is because all the Arrancars still the moment they see him approach, fearful almost. "This way."

In the presence of so many, his grip tightens again, turning bruising once more. I wince, both from the grip and how he yanks me forward. Freezing at the sight of so many Arrancars—most of my time in Las Noches has been in the presence of the Espadas—I'm not prepared to move into the room as quickly as we do. So, once again I end up getting dragged.

We're halfway into the room before I realize I should probably stick as close to Ulquiorra as possible. Especially when a few of the fearful gazes begin to shine with what I'm sure is hunger at the sight of me. Widening my strides, I all but tuck myself into Ulquiorra's side, ready and willing to climb him if I have to should anyone rush towards me. Ulquiorra really may not be all that tall, but higher ground is better than being on the floor with them.

It's over, I have the high ground!

The room is also filled with tables. Many of them littered with fabric and machines that look oddly enough like sewing machines. They probably are sewing machines, actually. There's also rolls of string, scissors, and measuring tape littered everywhere. The room is honestly as chaotic as you would imagine of the Arrancars. There're strips of fabric littered everywhere, thrown about rather than tossed in the trash bins.

It looks like a bomb went off and makes the room seem all the more hazardous.

Thankfully, no one attacks us as he leads me to the far end of the room. Towards a small Arrancar with purple hair, a pointed chin, and wide, ruby-red eyes. She watches us come, body tense and uncertainty twinkling in her eyes. Still, she faces us head-on, refusing to cower as Ulquiorra all but stomps towards her.

"Dress her," he commands, not bothering to greet the Arrancar before he shoves me at her. The girl is small, about my size, but she catches me instantly. She doesn't bow under my weight, doesn't even move. She's rock still when I stumble into her, as sturdy as a brick wall with hands just as stiff when they latch onto me to keep me from tipping over.

"She's human."

There's something an awful lot like disgust in her tone as she shoves me aside. With nothing to crash into, I gain my footing easily and just in time to dodge the hand that reaches out to me. With a yelp, I dive back behind Ulquiorra, cowering into his back as the hand retreats.

"It is Aizen's command," Ulquiorra tells her, something threatening in his voice as he turns to see what caused me to yelp. When he finds an Arrancar standing in front of me, he pins him with a look. One that seems as if he's daring him to try something. "Will you defy it?"

"I'll dress her," the Arrancar that reached for me says, something sinister in his gaze as he looks me over. He's a lanky thing, bone-thin with long, spindly fingers that reach for me again. His fingers are reaching for my chin, long, thin, and pointy. It'll hurt, I know it will, so I cower into Ulquiorra at the sight of them. "Yes, I'll dress her up real nice."

His fingers never end up reaching me though. They're stopped by Ulquiorra's bruising grip before they can so much as graze my skin. The crack that sounds as Ulquiorra does, does not sound good. Especially not when it's followed by his screams.

"She is to be left alone," Ulquiorra warns, but not just to him. He warns the room in general as he grinds the weak Arrancar's bones in his fist. All the while the Arrancar cries for mercy, falling to his knees as he does. "She is Aizen's guest and will be treated as such."

That's not exactly true, but I don't rush to correct him. I just continue to hide behind him, watching as the hungry gazes on me fill with disbelieving rage. The audacity of a human being off-limits to their hunger must be hard to swallow, I know, but if only they knew there's more than one human currently in Las Noches.

"Dress her," Ulquiorra tells the purple haired Arrancar again, a challenge in his words this time as he finally drops the weak Arrancar's wrist. Ulquiorra kicks him aside then, putting distance between us as he sends him tumbling across the floor.

"Yes, sir."

This time he doesn't shove me at her. He just steps away, leaving me open to the harsh grip that nabs the front of my shirt and drags me forward. With a grumble, the Arrancar wastes no time unzipping my shirt. She just tears it off with one quick tug, tossing it aside and catching me as I stumble from the force of it all at the same time.

My yelp then has nothing to do with fear, but everything to do with embarrassment as I find myself shirtless in front of a room full of both female and male Arrancars. I wrap my arms around myself almost instantly, hoping to protect at least some of my dignity.

"Oh, enough of that," the Arrancar growls, annoyed. Yanking my arms away as she grabs a measuring tape from her worktable. "If you're here to please Aizen, you won't be wearing much clothing anyway."

"Put her in a blouse," Ulquiorra orders as I balk in horror at the idea. No way in hell will I be pleasing Aizen any time soon. Wait, no, at all. I'd rather die than please him in any sort of way. "And a pair of shorts. I know it may be difficult but protect at least some of her modesty."

There's sarcasm in those last words, I know there is, but Ulquiorra delivers them with his classic monotone. All threats and anger in his voice are gone as he moves to take a seat on one of the closest empty chairs. He's as bored with playing babysitter as possible now that any threat of danger has been extinguished.

"Yes, sir."