A/N: Another chapter to get you through the week! Just as a side note, I'm currently going through old chapters to fix some spelling errors/inconsistencies I've found. Nothing major will be changing, so don't worry.
Another note- I won't be using times as line breaks for the Hueco Mundo parts as it's too hard for Orihime to tell time in this world. They'll still be used for anything taking place in the world of the living, though.
Enjoy and leave a review!
"Ah, Orihime. It is my pleasure to welcome you to Las Noches. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Sosuke Aizen."
The white-clad soul reaper stared down at her from his throne, so high up that Orihime had to crane her neck to look at him. His right elbow rested lightly on an armrest and his hand cupped his chin. His legs were crossed casually and he seemed completely at ease—a stark contrast to the girl who stood ramrod straight on the floor below him, nervously fingering the folds of her skirt.
"Orihime... Inoue, wasn't it?"
"Muguruma." Her voice trembled slightly as she answered. She could feel the hungry stares of the other arrancar in the room, focused on her. She felt like a lamb in a den of wolves.
"Ah, of course. I should have guessed that you would have taken the name of one of the soul reapers you were living with. I trust my old comrades are doing well?"
Orihime bit her lip and looked at the floor, not knowing how to answer. This man, who could be none other than the very same Aizen she had been told about, seemed the picture of civility and politeness. He was strikingly handsome, and he gazed down at her not unkindly. Still, she knew he was the one who had sanctioned the attack on her town as well as her kidnapping, and she could not forget her family's account of how they had suffered unduly at his hands, nor Rukia's story of her narrow escape from a brutal execution arranged through his scheming.
An awkward moment passed. He continued speaking.
"My apologies that this is so sudden, but please demonstrate your powers for us."
Her head snapped up in surprise. At that moment, a peculiar sensation came over Orihime. It was as if Hachi had suddenly wrapped her tiny frame in one of his enormous hands, as he used to when she was little and would get in trouble for climbing on the cabinets, in danger of falling. Only this time, the unexpected grip she felt around her was mercilessly tight, constricting her breathing and squeezing the energy from her body. Thinking it was some technique of Aizen's, she stared helplessly at the man on the polished marble throne above her, internally panicking, until his voice again sounded throughout the hall.
"Ah, it seems that some of our friends are not so pleased that I've brought you here. Isn't that right... Luppi?"
He addressed a small, raven-haired arrancar standing to the side of the chamber, the bottom half of a skull affixed to the left side of his head. Orihime took note of the strange purple diamonds tattooed on his temple.
The sudden heaviness Orihime had felt lessened considerably as the raven-haired turned his attention to his leader, glowering. "Of course I don't like it. All of our battles were pointless and in vain. It was only a distraction to bring this girl here! It does nothing but make me feel contempt for her." He jabbed a finger in Orihime's direction.
Aizen stared back at him calmly. "If I remember correctly, you were beaten up quite a bit during your battle," came the cool response.
The arrancar flushed slightly and his scowl deepened. Aizen turned his gaze back on Orihime.
"There is only one thing to be done. Orihime, show us your powers. I want you to heal Grimmjow's left arm."
Orihime had no desire to flaunt her Shun Shun Rikka before the many eyes keenly watching her, nor do anything to help the creatures who presented such a threat to the ones she loved. But with Tsubaki destroyed and the hairpin containing her shield flowers missing, and as outnumbered as she was in enemy territory, it was not as if she had much of a choice.
She turned towards the blue-haired arrancar behind her who was indeed missing the limb in question. Despite the impairment, he stood tall and eyed Orihime flatly as she hesitantly began to walk over to him. She considered him warily, acutely aware that this creature was capable of shredding her to pieces easily, whether he had both arms or neither.
Luppi's protests followed her as she neared the former espada.
"What are you saying, Lord Aizen?! That's impossible! Lord Tozen incinerated his arm completely. How could she fix something that isn't there?! She's not a god!"
Orihime raised both of her arms and held them at Grimmjow's side without stopping to consider whether or not what she was about to attempt was even possible. She simply recited the incantation and her two Shun Shun Rikka complied quickly, forming the glowing orange barrier in the space where the arrancar's arm should be.
Luppi angrily continued his tirade. "Did you hear what I said, woman?! Don't waste your time. If you're just putting on an act and you can't do it, I'll kill you! Now we'll see that you have no real powers and there will be no reason to keep you ali-"
Orihime called back the flowers and the light faded. She took a step back and watched as Grimmjow flexed the new arm her powers had fashioned for him, forming a fist and opening his palm repeatedly. He stared at it transfixed, his face unreadable.
"How?!" came the voice behind her again. The arrancar was clearly having difficulty accepting what had just happened. "What did you do, woman?!"
Aizen cut off Luppi's indignant protests. "Ulquiorra has come to the conclusion that it is some kind of time or space regression."
The helmeted espada voiced his agreement. "Yes."
"Impossible!" Luppi interjected. "There's no way a mere human could have such power!"
"That's right," the soul reaper agreed. "It's neither. It's rejection. Her power limits, rejects, and negates events that occur to an object or person. She has the ability to return things to a state before anything happened to them. It's above time and space regression. It is a power that encroaches on the realm of the gods."
Orihime thought back to the battle with Ulquiorra. Her Shun Shun Rikka had come into being right when she'd needed them, when the situation was most dire and Uryu was seconds from death. Somehow, they'd sensed her intense determination to protect her friend, and that desire had served as the catalyst for their birth. She hadn't thought about why her powers worked how they did, hadn't had time to wonder. And Tsubaki had hardly given her the chance to ask questions, not with Ulquiorra standing there, the intensity of his gaze boring a hole into her.
"Hey, woman," came Grimmjow's voice from behind her. "Fix one more part of me." He turned and gestured with his thumb to the burn scar on his back. Orihime could make out the remains of a tattoo underneath it and wondered at its significance.
The damage was extensive, but as with his arm, Orihime had healed it completely in seconds.
Luppi spoke through his teeth. "What do you think you're doing, Grimmjow?" he demanded.
The blue-haired turned to look at him, a maniacal grin on his face. Orihime blinked and he was no longer at her side, but in front of Luppi, his arm through his chest and protruding out his back. He fell to the ground, choking on blood as Grimmjow withdrew and stepped back, smirking at the writhing arrancar on the floor.
"Bastard..." he spat. Grimmjow's grin merely widened.
"Goodbye, former number six."
A ball of light formed in his left arm and he released it at the prostrate, badly injured now-former espada. The light dissipated and Luppi was gone.
Grimmjow threw his head back and laughed like a madman, his howls echoing throughout the chamber. "It's back! My power's back!"
Orihime stared at him, horrified and alarmed to watch the arrancar so mercilessly annihilate his own comrade. She glanced around and took in the reactions of the others in the room—some seemed as shocked as she was, others mildly surprised—she noted that Ulquiorra had his eyes closed, looking almost embarrassed.
She peeked up at Aizen still casually lounging on his throne. His expression had not changed from before—he did not look even the slightest bit surprised or irritated that he was now one arrancar less. Did such a thing happen so often that he was used to it? Did he simply accept that such savagery was a natural byproduct of so many hollows working together? Or did he consider his subjects so dispensable that he didn't mind if he lost a few now and then?
From what she knew, Aizen could display just as much savagery as the cold-blooded murder she had just witnessed.
She looked back at Grimmjow, who was still chuckling in unrestrained mirth, and wondered at the new devils she was to keep company with.
Orihime looked around the small room. There were only a few things to take in: a small, sofa-like bed pushed up against the wall, a chamber pot in the corner, and the little table she sat in front of now, her chin resting on her hands.
Not even a full 24 hours had passed since her capture and already Orihime ached for color. She was sick of the marble walls and the ivory furniture and the white uniforms the inhabitants of Hueco Mundo wore, and that Aizen had insisted she don as well. She had said her reluctant goodbyes to her school uniform: her gray pleated skirt, her yellow sweater, her big red bow. It was not as if she could refuse any request from that man. Had he asked her to shave her head, she would have no choice but to oblige.
Thankfully he had not, and she twisted an auburn lock around her finger. Her hair was the brightest thing in the room, but even the vivid orange took on a dull hue in the hazy moonlight filtering through her barred window.
Hesitantly, she reached up and tugged her hairpin free, examining the now four-pointed snowflake for the first time since it had shattered. How ironic that the one thing still she had from home was broken beyond repair.
She stroked the damaged section lightly with one finger, noting sadly how clean and smooth the break was. Little Tsubaki had been cut from her so quickly and effortlessly—she should have known! Not even Uryu had stood a chance against that opponent. How arrogant to think she could have done better.
She felt a rush of guilt as she always did when she thought about what had happened. Tsubaki's death was on her hands, she knew. If only she had been stronger, kept him closer. If only there was something she could do now.
"Shun'o. Ayame."
Her barrettes glowed as she recited their names. "Soten Kisshun. I reject."
Suddenly her hand was empty and Orihime found herself face-to-face with her two healing flowers. She was disappointed to see that no telltale barrier formed between them.
Shun'o put one tiny hand on hers in a gesture meant to console. "Orihime. I'm afraid that what you're trying to do is impossible."
"How can that be?" she protested. "The two of you recreated an entire arm from nothing earlier today—and in mere seconds! Why should this be any different?"
"The Shun Shun Rikka are not like other creatures," he continued in his gentle voice. "Our powers do not work so well on each other. Were Tsubaki merely injured, perhaps we could fix him, albeit with a little difficulty. But as it is, he is beyond our reach. Orihime, you have to accept that he is—"
The fractured barrette rested once again in her hand. She could not bear to hear it said out loud.
Feeling as if her spirits could not sink any lower, she gazed out the window. The creatures of this world seemed to favor darkness, and the only landscape Orihime could make out was covered in a perpetual twilight.
Kensei. Tatsuki. Ichigo. Hiyori. The faces of her family flitted through her mind. Kensei would be beside himself with panic and Hiyori would blame herself for it. Would any of them come looking for her? She remembered the strange dark portal Ulquiorra had taken her through. Would they even be able to get here?
If only she could find her own way out. But it was impossible. What little she had seen of Las Noches so far reminded her of a labyrinth with its endless corridors and stairs and walls that all looked the same. And even if she knew the way, she could never make it past her jailer while simultaneously avoiding the rest of the castle's inhabitants. And once she made it outside—what then? Was there a door somewhere that led to the world of the living?
She needed someone on the inside, someone who could lead her out or make a distraction while she escaped. Someone who had been to the human world and was willing to take her there. She needed an ally.
Who could she trust in such a place?