Speak of the Devil

Grimmjow cut the gag on Orihime's mouth with a swift flick of his finger, barely nicking her ear. She was too stunned by the sight before her to notice.

It had been a very long time since Orihime had laid eyes on Ichigo Kurosaki. She underwent a flurry of mixed emotions. That strawberry blond hair — much like her own — those strong, chiseled features, his never-ending grip tying him to Zangetsu.

Kurosaki-kun…

Terrified to see him almost dead, her eyes grew wide with disbelief. Never in her life had she ever expected to see him so fragile.

After all of my efforts! After all I've come here to accomplish! I came here to prevent this!

"Kurosaki-kun…"

His eyes were blank, dead.

"Fix him," came the condescending voice behind her.

She spun her head. What?!

Orihime did not understand Grimmjow's statement; surely there had to be some kind of ulterior motive. Ultimately, it did not matter. It was instinct that guided her hands and thoughts now. It was amazing just how easily she could slip back into a protective mode for Ichigo. She immediately set to work, apprehensive about what Kurosaki would say if she was successful in healing him. Part of her still doubted in her own power.

A small hollow, apparently a friend of Ichigo's, sat before her, pleading with her to heal the substitute shinigami, but Grimmjow soon silenced the girl.

"Just be quiet and she'll fix him," he ordered. "Be quiet and watch."

Grimmjow's tone was remarkably resolute. He had witnessed firsthand the results of Orihime's power. If she was not confident in herself, hearing those words from an unlikely character like Grimmjow certainly delivered the assurance she needed. How was it possible that he had more faith in her than she had in herself? Her confidence rose slightly. She had, after all, been hand-selected by Aizen to serve in his army, just like the rest of them.

But…what is this?

There's something I can't reject, she realized, horrified.

It was a large chunk of spiritual pressure dwelling in the center of Ichigo's chest. There was something exceedingly familiar about it — something she could not quite put a finger on. It was so dense that it was getting in the way of her rejection technique, and its effect was alarming. Whoever had done this was capable of carving a hole through Ichigo's chest…ripping apart his flesh…

…and heart?

It was absolutely barbaric.

"Who would do such a thing?"

The answer jetted from Grimmjow's mocking grin. "Ulquiorra."

A bewildered gasp escaped Orihime's throat. No, that's impossible — he wouldn't do that! He knows that Kurosaki-kun is my friend…he knows me. Why would he try to kill him?

"It's what he does," Grimmjow continued in jeering nonchalance. "I'm not sure he even realizes it, but whenever he takes an interest in his enemy, he always punches a hole in the exact same location." He tightened his fists as he stood up. "I'll teach him what happens when he messes with someone else's prey!"

Orihime was too stunned to care about Grimmjow's vengeance — calm, cool, cautious, and above all, apathetic Ulquiorra? The hole in Ichigo's chest was entrenched with the darkest kind of violence. The reiatsu emanated ire, which was why she could not recognize it right away. She had gotten so used to the prudence of Ulquiorra's spiritual power that the barbarity exuding from Kurosaki took Orihime completely by surprise. She could not believe Ulquiorra to be capable of such an act. Not because he did not have it in him to do it, but because until this point, his stoicism had been nothing short of impeccable.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a distressed moan. Ichigo weakly uttered the names of the two females before him.

"Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime yelped.

"ICHIGOOOO!" the little girl cried.

Grimmjow's patience was starting to wear thin. He ordered Orihime to continue fixing the shinigami's wounds, finally leading her to understand the purpose of bringing her there. Orihime immediately refused.

"If that's the reason you're making me fix — "

"SHUT UP I SAID! I'm allowing you to fix the guy who would have been dead! Stop complaining and hurry up! It won't take long before Ulquiorra realizes what's going on and comes back! Before that, I'll — "

As though uttering Ulquiorra's name was a summons, an angry figure materialized several feet behind Grimmjow. Grimmjow and Orihime whipped their heads around. Ulquiorra was indeed back and did indeed discover what happened.

"Ulquiorra," Grimmjow challenged.

Ulquiorra kept a steady voice. "What are you doing? Grimmjow…"

Grimmjow refused to answer the question. Orihime fixed her eyes on Ulquiorra, but he was still too preoccupied with Grimmjow to address her.

"What's wrong? I'm talking to you," Ulquiorra coolly spat. "What are you trying to pull — healing the wounds of an enemy I defeated?"

To the untrained ear, it would appear that these words came from an indifferent man, but Orihime was not so quick to be fooled. It was a stark distinct from the usual irritation she had experienced on numerous occasions throughout their time together. He sounded irate, trying to maintain his composure. It was a side of Ulquiorra that Orihime had never seen.

A smirking Grimmjow remained silent.

"No response?" Ulquiorra replied in false stoicism.

Just when Orihime thought that things could not get any more uncomfortable, Ulquiorra hurled a furious glance her way.

Just what do you think you're doing? his eyes seemed to say.

She stared at him in wide-eyed shame. Behind her, Ichigo continued healing under her strengthened power. Power she had garnered from training with Ulquiorra. The irony was humiliating.

I'm so sorry…but…I still care about Ichigo Kurosaki. He is still my friend.

No dice. Ulquiorra was not tolerating any excuses, and the weight of his eyes was far too much to bear. She guiltily diverted her eyes to the ground.

.oOo.

Fickle woman. Disloyalty is one of your most prominent qualities, isn't it?

Ulquiorra looked at her heatedly for several moments before he finally addressed Grimmjow again, his tone eerily calm.

"Very well, then. In any case, Aizen-sama has entrusted that girl to me."

He paused.

"Hand her over," he demanded.

A knowing smirk curled its way onto Grimmjow's lips. "Piss off!"

Startled at the blatant disregard for orders, Ulquiorra countered, "What did you say?"

"What's the matter?" Grimmjow teased. He shouted defiantly, "You've got a lot to say, don't you, ULQUIORRA?!"

The attack came out of nowhere, fast and hard. Ulquiorra blocked it with a single hand, but not without effort.

Belligerent fool.

Grimmjow's eyes emanated maniacal—almost envious—hatred. He blew another attack towards Ulquiorra, but it was immediately deflected.

In the background, Orihime watched as the two of them fought, exposing herself to attack as she was still using all of her energy to heal the substitute shinigami. The sudden blow from Grimmjow shook everything; its range was wide and should have blasted her to pieces, but it never reached her because Ulquiorra ultimately deflected the attack away from himself and, in the process, away from her. Incensed that he had to resort to saving Orihime from Grimmjow's attack, Ulquiorra spun in the air, pointing his steady finger at Grimmjow. His eyes were full of wrath.

Grimmjow, unlike Ulquiorra, was not worried about destroying everything and everyone surrounding them. He twisted his mouth in a sardonic smile and unleashed his own cero to counter Ulquiorra's, holding nothing back. The blast from both of their power was tremendous; it broke pieces off the pillar on which they fought.

Ulquiorra flew backwards; he was not expecting to enter into such close combat. He quickly jerked his eyes to the side, furiously scanning the area. His eyes finally rested on a head of long, burnt-orange hair decorated with hibiscus pins.

He noted that there was no blood.

Ulquiorra then turned his attention to look around for Grimmjow, but he was nowhere to be found.

Did he perish…?

Out of nowhere, a hand reached out and grabbed Ulquiorra's hollow hole. Ulquiorra was horrified to see a small cube head into his body.

This is…!

Too late. The cube had already penetrated, and a helpless Ulquiorra cursed at himself, looking on for only as long as he remained in the dimension of Hueco Mundo.

Hollow

As Orihime had spent most of her time locked in utter solitude, the current pace of events left her mind spinning. She could hardly keep up with the movements between Grimmjow and Ichigo. Her nerves were a wreck from the quick movements and the incredible levels of reiatsu around her. Had she never trained with Ulquiorra, she might have collapsed from the levels to which she was being exposed. At some point in the fight, Grimmow had released his second form. His movements grew quicker and stronger.

Ichigo had also transformed. There was something exceptionally unnerving about the way he was fighting. Having been exposed to the reiatsu of hollows for so many months, it was easily trackable within Ichigo. But why would he have the reiatsu of a hollow?

This is Kurosaki-kun…he is good, isn't he? Is that really…you?

At another point in the fight, Ichigo had hovered near the area where Orihime was watching, protecting her from one of Grimmjow's attacks. Orihime could sense a dark spirit emanating from within him. It was something she never, ever would have expected to come from Ichigo. This feeling about him was shockingly familiar, and her mind fluttered to all the hollows she had encountered living in Hueco Mundo. There was no distinction between Ichigo's spirit and the hollows to which she had grown accustomed, and this left her dysphoric. She was looking at her future in Ichigo, and the darkness he exuded caused her to be even more disgusted with herself and the decision she had made to be hollowfied.

Ichigo flew back to Grimmjow after he had blocked the attack. Orihime stared helplessly after him.

I mustn't be afraid, I mustn't be afraid!

How was it possible to be afraid of Ichigo and not Ulquiorra? She could not see any light in his eyes, nothing that resembled humanity. It reminded her of the way her brother looked at her when he had turned into a hollow. Mortifying.

It did not help that Ichigo was showing signs of weakness. It did not help that Little Nel was egging her on, challenging her lack of faith in Ichigo. The girl was a hollow. Of course she would not understand what Orihime was going through. Orihime tried her best and shouted for Ichigo, even crying, but part of it was due to frustration. She always felt so helpless around him. Reverting back to these feelings also made her angry with herself. For months she had known what it was like to finally feel somewhat useful. Had nothing changed?

The fight between Ichigo and Grimmjow raged on. Orihime grew even more frustrated with herself; seeing Ichigo fight on her behalf brought back all the memories of her time in Soul Society and the human world. She wondered what the transition to her old life would be like if Aizen was defeated. She was no longer the only human around, but this contradicted the hollow-like reiatsu coming from Ichigo.

I feel like I can't see myself reflected in those eyes, I feel like Ichigo has turned into a stranger. It was a blunt distinction from the lustrous green eyes lingering in the back of her mind — ones that gave her strength; ones she was used to seeing herself in, ones that led her to believe in herself. This was nowhere near what she saw in Ichigo.

It kept her on edge and uncertain about what would happen to her if she continued to show her support for Ichigo. What if he lost? Would Grimmjow sell her out for supporting Aizen's enemy? No, Ichigo will not lose. He can't, can he?

It was at that moment that Little Nel had berated Orihime for not cheering Ichigo on, asking her why she was so quiet, shouting about how he had attacked Ulquiorra upon hearing Orihime's name. A confused Orihime knew not what to think. Ichigo had attacked Ulquiorra on account of her? What did he say about me? What made Ulquiorra so mad that he ended up almost killing Kurosaki-kun?

"What are you doing jutht thanding there, not cheering him on?!"

The question struck Orihime to the core.

Why am I not cheering him on? Why am I so confused?! Why is it so hard for me to support him now that I know he's part hollow?

After much prodding, the guilt outweighed confusion and Orihime finally gave in to her whims, reaching deep within her heart to extract loyalty to her friend.

That's right…to begin with, I came here just thinking I wanted to protect everyone, but when I heard they had come to save me, I couldn't help but feel a little glad somewhere in my heart. When I look at Kurosaki-kun with that mask, I think he might not have come here to save me at all. Even though it's wrong, they shouldn't be going that far for me. Even though I really…don't want him to die. Because a part of me I used to know…will die with him.

She shouted with all her might, as if to recall some old element that had once been part of her existence, knowing that if Kurosaki died, part of her would also die with him.

"DON'T DIE, KUROSAKI-KUN!"

.oOo.

There was something about Orihime Inoue, something about her voice, something about the life that pulsed within her, that had the power to draw life out of a man. She had healing powers, this was true, but the healing powers were not just related to the Shun Shun Rikka; their healing power was only strong because she, the woman herself, was full of hope and light and love. Like her offensive abilities, her healing abilities were also subject to the strength of her healing spirit. They not only had the power to heal in the physical and spiritual realms, but also in the realm of inspiration.

In that moment, Ichigo Kurosaki remembered where he was.

Yes, he would survive.

And he would dominate.

And he would win.

Reclaim

"Girl! Fix up my wounds!" Zaraki Kenpachi ordered.

"Yes, sir!" Orihime shouted, happy to finally be of some use and excited to have been acknowledged. She had been so relieved to see the captain after the brutal ordeal between Nel and Nnoitra. Perhaps even more relieved than when Ichigo beat Grimmjow.

She thanked the heavens for all the training she had received from Ulquiorra as it had allowed her to withstand such tremendous spiritual pressure.

Obediently, she ran towards the bloodied captain.

She saw three things at once: a neck, an ivory jawbone, and a vacuous hole in flesh. As she dared to look downwards, recognition of the white glove dawned on her. The familiar, cool, brown eyes that met her own solidified her disbelief.

"Sorry about this," Starrk said, his contrition evident. "To be honest, it's a pain for me, too. It's a mighty shame, but…you're coming with me."

Orihime heard Zaraki's and Ichigo's swords clatter and whip into the air.

Too slow.

Starrk had reclaimed her.