A cool breeze kissed Orihime's face as she admired the deception of the cerulean dome. The seconds she spent passing through this place on the way to her daily training escapades were not enough. Spending more time under the blue skies was refreshing, but it still only gave her a small taste of the real world in an entirely foreign dimension. She sighed several times. The servant silently stood behind her. He did not say much; he usually only gave her stern warnings about forbidden places as soon as she started heading in those general directions.

The blue-sky place, as she liked to call it, would soon become her favorite place to go. She would eventually spend her entire allotted time there –about one-and-a-half hours—just gazing at the sunlessly lit sky.

She had not seen Ulquiorra again since her last day of training. She hated to admit it, but she had gotten very used to having him around. At least he talks to me sometimes, unlike the servant, she thought. She finally saw him again a couple of days later when her training resumed.

Ulquiorra began the same way again, standing yards away and emanating some ridiculously high reiatsu level. Though he never spoke during their training sessions, she soon began to realize that if she paid attention, his eyes revealed everything she needed to know. As his spiritual pressure started to rise and fall, she slowly grew accustomed to the way the subtle changes in his expressions would accompany the reiatsu levels. She, after all, had nothing better to look at. She now started to accept the fact that, yes, he is really handsome, but no, that does not mean anything else. Looking at him during her sessions made sense, she justified, because it made the training more efficient. She found that when his reiatsu grew particularly strong—at the moment where she could literally feel her knees buckling from the extraordinary pressure of his power—his gaze grew ever so slightly more demanding, as if to challenge her to remain standing. And stand she did. His eyes then flashed something akin to satisfaction. It was almost obvious. She originally dismissed it entirely as trickery in her mind, but the fluctuation of his reiatsu always coincided with what she read in his countenance. Whenever she rose to the challenge in his eyes, the reiatsu perceptibly eased, as if to reward her for her struggle. On several occasions, she thought she had read encouragement in his visage. She knew this had to be false, but whenever her thoughts drifted to the day he openly talked about resolve, the uncertainty loomed.

Even so, Orihime's training evolved into something entirely other that day. As her perseverance sharply adapted to the shifting of his power, his insight about her limits grew particularly keen. They grew in close acquaintance to each other's tendencies, playing their intuitions against one another in an intricate, ocular dance.

As the first interval of her training continued in this manner, Ulquiorra was pleased at the progress. The cohesion of their reflexes was striking. He finally took his first step towards her to test whether she would waver, but Orihime did not miss a beat, and he proceeded to raise and lower his reiatsu in sync with her anticipation.

Their promenade continued like this until he stood but several inches away from her. As the reiatsu around them grew thick, there was something about his gaze at that moment that Orihime could not read. It was not a challenge that he was giving her this time; rather, he seemed to be searching for something. What does he want? The answer remained unclear as he stood challenging her with his power. Under normal circumstances Orihime would have collapsed long ago, and the training would have ended, but the days of rest had rejuvenated her in a way that doubled her capacity. So though the weight of his reiatsu was crushingly strong, she was able to handle it longer.

But only up until a point.

She fainted, and did not wake until the next day.

.oOo.

Ulquiorra caught her as soon as she fainted. Usually she would remain conscious, but her since her abilities had increased two-fold, her body was still reacting to the changes. Not quite certain about what to do with the limp woman on his arm, he stood awkwardly, one hand in his pocket and the other under her stomach. Perhaps she would wake soon. Several minutes passed before he realized that she would not.

The training that day had impressed him. He had suspicions that she would be stronger, so from the start he released larger levels of reiatsu, and she rose to every challenge he threw. Her talent at reading his expressions was completely unexpected. She had easily deciphered what he wanted, and it was remarkable how she had responded so well. When he stood but several inches away from her, he wondered if she could read his thoughts as well as his face. What is it that gives you so much resolve, woman? You know that my power can absolutely crush you, yet you seem to think that you can handle whatever I give. He was utterly baffled by the broad range of her personality as he stood before her. She was extremely weak in some respects but incredibly strong in others. In that moment, his thoughts about her had distracted him, and he absentmindedly raised his reiatsu to a level she could not handle. This was when he caught her fall.

Growing bored with waiting for her to wake, he finally placed one hand under her knees and supported her back with the other. He lifted her with ease, eventually drifting downwards towards her room. Upon arriving, he walked over to her couch and placed her on it. As he removed his arms from under her, one of his hands accidentally brushed against hers, and he felt a jolt. Startled, he immediately straightened himself.

What…

Her hand innocently rested over the side of the couch. She was peacefully asleep.

But Ulquiorra knew what he felt. He unzipped the top of his garment and checked. The hole was just as big and empty and ungolden as ever.

It was unmistakable, the echo of many weeks past. Impossible. How can it still be within me? He furiously contemplated the implications of what he just felt. After debating with himself for several moments, he hesitantly reached over and touched her wrist. Nothing. Utterly perplexed about why he was even considering what was in his thoughts, he finally gave in and slowly wrapped his pale, white fingers along the delicate backs of hers. Still nothing. He awkwardly held her hand for several moments. This is utterly pointless. He immediately dropped her hand, straightened upwards, and left the room. He tried to ignore what had just happened, but somewhere in the haste of his movements, acknowledgement of the novelty subtly pushed its way into the recesses of his mind.

.oOo.

The next week held more intense training sessions. The brief recession in her capacity to withstand reiatsu and her most recent collapse was a small price to pay, for her ability to withstand his spiritual pressure started increasing almost exponentially each day. Their silent dialogue also grew in efficiency. She was now able to tell exactly when he would begin, as opposed to being taken off guard like she had before. She also started taking steps towards him instead of waiting for him to move. The first time she did this, it surprised him. He was not entirely certain she could move in the midst of the pressure, but she proved him wrong. After only a month of training, their promenade underwent a slow evolution of alternating steps. First him, then her, until they met in the center, inches away from each other.

She collapsed no more. It was a combination of her strength and the fact that he was able to sense her limits with increased efficacy. He now simply eased his reiatsu when her training for the day was complete, allowed her some time to catch her breath, and continued downwards and back to her chambers without a word. Their method was ideal.

Orihime took advantage of her outings whenever she could. It was always the same servant who led her out, and she always went to catch a glimpse of the clouds in the blue-sky place. Once in a while, she would wander throughout the palace halls, but the palace was so big, she knew that she would need days just to explore it all, and she was only given about an hour and a half a sitting.

One day, as wandered around the palace, she looked back and noticed that the servant who was supposed to be following her was gone. She retraced her steps a bit, certain he would be around the corner, but he was nowhere to be found. She grew anxious. I have no idea where I am, and these halls all look the same! She continued walking until she heard footsteps echoing in the distance. She froze. She remembered what Ulquiorra had said to her about other arrancar not being as respectful of Aizen's orders. How anyone would be stupid enough to disobey him was beyond her. She decided that to show fear would be unwise, so she continued walking.

A lone arrancar could be seen approaching her. He was tall, with medium length brown hair, rugged features, and the number one engraved in black on his left hand, she soon noticed. He seemed to be distracted by something as he walked; his pace was about the same as Ulquiorra's—leisurely.

As soon as he noticed her, he squinted his eyes as he looked her up and down. "Well, well. It seems you've been given some freedom to roam the halls on your own. I heard you were going to join the ranks, is that so?"

"I wasn't alone when I left my room. I think I lost my chaperone. Have you seen him?"

"No, I'm afraid I haven't," he replied.

"Are you one of the Espada?" Orihime asked.

"You could say that."

He shoved his left hand into a white glove. "I am Coyote Starrk. You are Orihime Inoue, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"You know, formalities really annoy me," he replied distractedly. "They distance people and that makes them a little depressing, don't you think?"

Orihime did not know what to say.

"You can call me Starrk."

"Yes, sir…I mean…" she chuckled lightly.

"What do you do in that room all by yourself?" he suddenly asked.

"Well, I have some cards that I play with sometimes, but my training keeps me occupied now. And Aizen-sama has been gracious enough to allow me to leave my room every other day."

He looked at her, vaguely interested. "I spend a lot of time in my room, too. Lilynette is always complaining about that, but I really don't care. Maybe I should tell her to play cards with you. She can be fun when she's not running around being a pain, and if she's with you, she won't wake me up from my naps anymore."

Who is he talking about? Orihime wondered. The thought of company and new people to talk to was enticing. Still, she was uncertain about the implications of making friends with the enemy.

"I—I don't know. I don't think I'm allowed to have visitors."

"Hmmm…Anyway, you shouldn't be alone here. It can be dangerous. Do you need another chaperone?"

"I-uh…"

"That won't be necessary," boomed a deep voice from behind her. It was Ulquiorra. "Where is the servant?" he asked Orihime sharply.

"I don't know. I was wandering around the halls and turned around, and he was gone."

"You must return to your chambers at once."

"Oh, come on," Starrk interjected, "she's not going to do anything wrong. You should let her live a little. I know you sure could use a little living yourself."

"She is under strict orders from Aizen-sama. If you have any objections to this, I suggest you discuss it with him. In the meantime," he looked at Orihime, "you must return to your chambers."

Orihime did not like the way she was being spoken to. It had been a long time since anyone had defended her like that. She had forgotten what it felt like, and she could feel the loathsome sensation of being treated as a prisoner bubbling up from deep within her. Wandering around the halls and the training sessions had given her a small taste of having a say in her own life again. Ulquiorra's callousness had snuffed that out in an instant.

She looked at Ulquiorra. "I don't know my way back," she said flatly.

"I can take you back," Starrk offered. "It's on my way."

"Ok—"

"That won't be necessary," Ulquiorra interjected sharply.

"Oh, so you want to spend a little bit of time with her, eh?" Starrk replied, annoyed. "I don't blame you, she's quite a looker."

Orihime turned red. She looked at Ulquiorra. His expression was icy. With more than a hint of irritation in his voice he responded, "What nonsense." He turned his back to both of them and began walking towards Orihime's room. "Follow me, woman."

"She has a name, you know," Starrk voiced bemusedly. "Not all of us are this rude," he said in an aside to Orihime, who had not moved.

"Instead of giving people advice on how to execute their duties, you would do well to perform your own." He turned his head and shot Orihime a glance. From all of the subtlety she learned in her training, she immediately could tell that he wanted her to end the conversation with Starrk. This instantly startled her. The ability to read his expressions outside of training caught her off guard.

"Touché," replied Starrk with a lazy smirk. "It seems your commander is annoyed, Inoue-san," he said loud enough for Ulquiorra to hear. "I really should get back, anyway…I'm tired."

"Yes, it was nice meeting you, goodbye," she responded.

Not wanting to have to walk behind Ulquiorra, she jogged all the way to step in place beside him. She reflected on what just happened. I can't believe that I could read his expressions outside of training. Is it that I'm being exposed to his reiatsu so much? Has that affected things?

The walk back to her room was silent. Both were consumed in their own thoughts.

Ulquiorra opened up the entryway to her room.

"Thank you," she said, "and for helping me find my way back." Their eyes met.

Though she still felt some resentment at how he treated her, she knew that he was not childish enough for her to consider it an attack on her free will.

"How did you escape the servant?"

The question brought back her feelings of anger. "I wasn't escaping. I told you, I don't know what happened. I just sort of looked around at some point, and he was gone. Why don't you believe me?"

Ulquiorra initially responded with silence. He could tell that she was hurt; she expected him to believe her, and the thought of this was perplexing.

"You expect me to trust you." It was a statement, not a question.

"I'm training to become an Espada. I thought that meant something." She was well aware that it did not. She knew where her true loyalties lay. However, she was very reluctant to admit to herself that she also did not want to lie to Ulquiorra. So for everything but her loyalties, her word was good.

"So you have abandoned your former loyalties, then?"

Orihime looked down to the ground. If she could read him, he could read her, too.

"Well, believe it or not, I do trust you." It was a foolhardy response, and she was uncertain whether she believed it herself. Something told her that she meant what she said.

"I've noticed what's been going on in my training," she quickly explained. "You've been so careful not to make me collapse anymore. I know part of it is that I've gotten stronger, but you also have gotten really good at knowing me…you don't breach my limits. So I can tell that it hasn't been my strength alone that has made me better. If you were really indifferent about the whole thing, I would have fainted much more than just once."

The sound of her voice reverberated in the halls. The following silence was deadening.

She hesitantly looked up at him after several moments in uncertainty, second-guessing everything she said. He was not looking at her. His head was turned to the side so that she could only see the part of his face uncovered by the mask. She could feel herself drinking in his features. Her heart thumped.

"I am merely performing my duties. It is expected that precision increase over time." But he was still looking away from her so that she could not read his face.

After a pause, he finally looked back at her. "And you would be wise not to give your trust so willingly."

"I don't, usually," something compelled her to say. Her voice was soft.

There was a shift in his eyes just then, but they quickly resumed to their usual stoicism.

Orihime turned her face in a slight blush. What am I saying?

"Anyway, I'm really tired. I really should get to sleep. Good night," she said.

He responded by locking her door.

.oOo.

Behind the door, Orhime's face blushed harder. Her thoughts were scrambled. She wrung her hands, confused about what she was feeling. I never even say such things to Kurosaki-kun.

Suddenly, it dawned on her. She had just compared Ulquiorra Schiffer to Ichigo Kurosaki. The latter of whom she was supposed to love. Why had she picked Kurosaki to compare?

Does this mean…

No…No…NO!

I CAN'T have feelings for him. I can't! I can't…

It was minuscule, nowhere close to love or even infatuation, but denial is often evidence of the truth of the thing denied. She knew she still had feelings for Ichigo, but she also knew that they had faded. Not seeing him every day and establishing a pseudo-relationship with the Fourth Espada had done that. If Ichigo were to come to her now, however, she was certain that all of her feelings would rekindle in an instant. Was it possible to have feelings for two different people?

She suddenly grew very depressed.

.oOo.

Ulquiorra mulled over the conversation he just had. He was utterly perplexed, and her words kept repeating over and over again in his mind. Believe it or not, I trust you. How had he ever given her the impression that he was trustworthy?

The woman is immensely deceived. She has confused my adeptness with protection.

This definitely gave Aizen an advantage. Yet, the woman's trust is fragile, he thought. To break her trust would destroy any genuine links she had to Aizen. Her words flashed in his thoughts again, the look in her eyes accompanying them. She had placed her trust in one of Aizen's most powerful allies. There emerged a familiar feeling of novelty as he continued to mull over the meaning of her words. He forced himself back into apathy upon contemplation, and once more it was the forcing that bothered him. Why should he care whether she trusted him or not? It was completely irrelevant to any of Aizen's purposes, despite the fact that it would certainly be convenient.

Whether her trust was more to him than a serendipitous segment in his master's schemes, however, continued to prod his curiosity about the girl. She had created, on her part, an element of camaraderie. Despite his broad knowledge of the woman's misgivings, Ulquiorra still could not fully understand all of her oddities. Every premise, every assumption about her that he had carefully crafted was continuously being reevaluated. Whether he realized it or not, or whether he chose to ignore it, it was unmistakable that the amount of time he spent dwelling on her behavior had increased.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by very faint voices as he walked through the corridors. He stopped and strained his ears.

"Next time, grab her when I tell you, you idiot! It was hard enough kidnapping the servant!"

"I'm sorry, Loly! I was nervous. Do you have any idea what Aizen-sama would do to us if we got caught?"

"Shut up! We weren't doing anything, we were just going to talk to her. Send her a little message. If Starrk wasn't in the hallway just then, it would have worked. Next time, just do what I tell you. Meet me here again in two days. Ugh, I can't stand that big-boobed tramp!" Their voices faded completely as they continued walking down the hallway.

So. It seems the woman's escape was no accident. Ulquiorra considered reporting this to Aizen, but he knew that the women were not foolish enough to try anything with one of Aizen's more significant subordinates. It would be a waste of breath to attempt to bring this to his attention. No…there is a better, more subtle way to address the problem.

.oOo.


Author's Note:

Subsequent updates will probably take longer than usual within the coming weeks; I have finals, papers, the holidays, and I'm starting my master's thesis. I will, however, try very hard to update every two weeks, at the very latest.