Chapter 11

And Perhaps Be Welcomed Back Again

~(o0o)~

True to his word, Ulquiorra returned roughly an hour later. Orihime did not even have the time to be bored before then, though, as she was graced by an unexpected visitor.

Grimmjow's hair was just a little bit longer, and a little lighter. His fangs were longer and more feline, and when he placed a hand on the edge of the door she could see he had claws. She noticed the front of his coat was different, too-were he to zip it up, it would have on open diamond around his hollow hole in the front, just as Ulquiorra's did.

"Hey," he grinned at her with a mouth full of sharp teeth and leaned in across the threshold. Clearly, he thought he was hot shit, showing up at Ulquiorra's door as he did.

Orihime just raised a brow. "Ulquiorra doesn't want me to let anyone in."
"You can stand up to Aizen, but not bat-shit? Come on, Princessa. I just wanna talk."

Somehow, Orihime doubted that. "Is this one of those 'hey let me blow you away with my sexual prowess so you'll be my personal number one healer no matter what orders your under' sort of deals?"

Grimmjow's smile drooped.

"Yeah. I sort of figured that." Orihime started to close the door.

"Hey, hey, hey, whoa!" He stuck his foot out and stopped the door from closing in his face. "What kinda human are you, anyway? You're supposed to be scared. Your buddy Ichigo sure was the other day."

"You punched a hole through his girlfriend," Orihime reminded him.

Grimmjow shrugged. "That was ages ago."

"Days."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Well clearly you see that it wasn't that big a deal. You're not shaking or anything. You know, I'd give a real scare to some lower arrancar for that sort of bold BS. But you're different."

"Okay?" She laughed. "Grimmjow I have no idea what tactic you're trying but really, I'm already your friend. Calm down."

He reared away from the door. "Friend?" He hissed. "There are no 'friends' in Los Noches."

"Guess I'll see you later then," she said. She began to close the door.

The foot again. "... But I can make an exception."

Orihime held the door open just a crack. "Sorry, that deal expired. Try again tomorrow."

"What?!"

"Try again tomorrow," she told him. "If you can be nicer you'll be my friend again. And yes, don't worry, this is our little secret. I already know the drill. Yeesh."

"You little bitch, I'll-"

She did not hear the rest, as she soundly kicked his foot out of the way and slammed the door closed in his face. She could hear him raging outside, but he must have known very well not to go about breaking down Ulquiorra's door. And no amount of 'open this door you bitch!' was going to get her off the couch again.

When Ulquiorra came back, he stared first at her and then the rest of the room in suspicion, as though she'd gone and set up booby traps while he was away. She was determined not to be that much of a pain in the ass, even if a healthy dose of frustration was good for Ulquiorra's character. She smiled at him as a lower arrancar came in with her bags and set them on the floor. They left quickly, without ever once saying a word.

"It has come to my attention that you eat food," Ulquiorra began.

It took everything in Orihime not to reply with something sassy. She was pretty sure she'd reached her sass limit for the day-she wanted to come out of this with people liking her, after all. So, she nodded.

"I will have three daily meals prepared for you."

"Thank you," Orihime said. "I was starting to get hungry."

"Tomorrow, we will journey to the world of the living for a reconnaissance mission. Afterwards, should you behave, you will be allowed to select food for our chefs to use. The ex-shinigami enjoy eating food as well, so you will be well cared for. For tonight, you still simply have to eat what is served."

"Okay," Orihime said. "Thank you."

He seemed suspicious of how well she was going along with things. "If you fail to consume your meal, you will be tied down and forced to eat. Such a problem would result in your choice of meals being stripped from you."

"I'll behave," she chuckled. "Pinky swear."

He continued to stare at her.

"So what will it be?" She stood from the couch and started over to him, and more specifically, he bags. "Cold oatmeal? Gruel? Bone broth with bread crusts?" She grabbed her bags and started back towards her room. "I'm sure Aizen has something plain cooked up for me." She couldn't count the amount of times she'd been served plain miso the last time around. Everything had been so bland.

"No," Ulquiorra said.

Orihime dumped her bags in the bedroom. She started back into the living room. "No?" She laughed. "Oh, do we have something better than that? Chicken broth and an entire piece of bread?"

It was then that another arrancar was waved into the room by Ulquiorra. They pushed a tray, upon which was a rich collection of sushi. Orihime's eyes went wide as her mouth began to water. Salmon, tuna, yellowtail, calamari, eel, shrimp… A whole spread of sashimi, nigiri, and other sushi, complete with heaps of ginger, wasabi, and a dish of soy sauce. Orihime licked her lips, spying two huge prong shrimp, cooked whole, sitting up in rice with their little heads facing towards the ceiling.

… Okay. So what was Aizen playing at this time?

"Sit," Ulquiorra told her.

Orihime sure as hell didn't have to be told twice. She hadn't had sushi in… well, forever. And no, the half-off spicy tuna rolls from the grocery store did not count, as she was fairly certain there wasn't actually any real tuna in those. She had a momentary thought-hadn't she read something about tuna fishing being bad, or something? Maybe that was another fish. Some fish, uh, going extinct or being bad to eat or something like that.

Well. It was already there. So.

Forgive me, Tuna God.

Orihime tucked herself into the table and tried not to visibly lick her chops as the food was placed before her. "Thank you," she told the server, who expectedly did not reply. She turned her eyes on the spread. "Digging in," she said, and began at the meal with zeal.

Ulquiorra sat across from her, watching silently. Orihime ignored the weight of his gaze and inhaled her sushi, glancing up now and again to watch him watch her. She finally swallowed a huge bite and, through a bit of rice, asked, "Want some?"

He raised a brow.

She swallowed the rice and took a minute to make sure her mouth was empty. More clearly, she asked, "Do you want any?"

"I am a hollow," he told her, as though she needed reminding. "I do not consume human food."

She was slapped with the memory of the neighbor's grumpy black cat, Sega, who was also not allowed to eat human food. Orihime had a bad habit of feeding him tiny dishes of cream regardless. For some reason, an image of Ulquiorra on his hands and knees lapping cream out of a tiny bowl struck her. She nearly spit out her next bite laughing.

Ulquiorra scowled. "I fail to see what is so funny."

"Nothing," she promised him. "Nothing. Just. Really? I know you can eat. I mean, Aizen throws those mandatory tea parties or whatever, doesn't he?"

"The amount of surveillance you're privy to is… surprising," he said.

"Yeah. Anyway. So you can eat, right?"

"Physically, I am capable. It would serve no purpose, though."

Orihime took a roll between her chopsticks and offered it out across the table. "It tastes good," she told him. "You're lucky. Not everyone gets to try gourmet food as their first food. If we were going by human standards, I'd have to feed you pureed yams out of a little jar."

He continued to stare her down, deadpan.

"Right." She cleared her throat. "Go on. Try it. I promise you'll like it." With her free hand, she pushed forward her tiny dish of soy sauce. "You dip it and then eat it."

"I do not need it," he said again, but she could see the slightest hint of curiosity in his eyes.

"I can't eat all this food by myself," she lied. She could really pack away a big meal when the occasion called for it. "You wouldn't want Aizen's efforts to go to waste, right?"

Finally, he took the roll between his fingers. She'd given him tuna nigiri. He dipped it in the sauce, as shown, though he did it all with an air of suspicion, like he thought this was some sort of trick designed to make him implode. Meeting her eyes, he opened his mouth, showing a tiny flash of fangs, and then popped the tuna into his mouth.

She watched him chew, grinning. He swallowed, still warily eying her. She smiled. "Well?"

"The texture is…"

"It takes some getting used to," she said. "I guess it's not what a soul would feel like." She paused. "What does eating a soul feel like?"

"There is no describing it," he said. "You would have to consume one yourself."

She wondered what happened when plus souls ate other plus souls. Nothing good, she was sure. "I think I'll stick to sushi." She ate some more, though she caught him eyeing her food. With a grin, she pushed the platter into the center of the table. "You may as well try some more," she told him. "Like I said, I can't possibly eat all of this by myself."

"I do not need it."

"But do you want it?" At his odd expression, she shook her head. "Forget I asked. This has nothing to do with wants or needs. It's just… eating. Just sushi. And you're welcome to have as much as you'd like. If you want, we can even see about getting some more tomorrow when we're in the living world. If that's alright with you, of course."

He gave her a 'do not push your luck' sort of look, but took a shrimp roll regardless. She watched with glee as he dutifully dipped it, and the placed it in his mouth. His black nails gleamed against the color of the fish.

"Between bites of different kinds, you eat the ginger," she told him. "To cleanse your palate, between tastes."

"The two rolls taste fine together," he told her. Still, he took a piece of ginger before his next bite.

She propped one of her arms up on the table and leaned into her palm, watching him. He was very curious. She'd forgotten that about him. That morbid sense of needing to know, wanting to find things out. She wondered what other sorts of things she could entice him to.

She was probably just a little bit older than him, she realized. The souls that created his being were old, yes, but Ulquiorra himself couldn't have been over thirty. Ignoring her body's age, she was probably his senior mentally.

It was an odd thought. The first time around, he'd seemed so mature. So distant from her-a mountain top she'd never reach. Now, though, he was very simple to her. A man, almost. A creature, in a way. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to see if he was real, to ask him if he felt. How very alone he must have been, wandering the world without anything or anyone. He'd never eaten food. What other countless joys of life had he been missing?

"It's good," she said. "Isn't it?"

He did nod, then. "Yes.
She smiled.

Orihime slept alone in Ulquiorra's bedroom, the door closed between herself and the rest of the world. There was a sliver of silver light outlining the doorframe, creeping beneath the crack and across the floor. She felt the espada roaming the palace and the deserts like ants on her skin, their rietsu flaring and growing when they killed and fought, so eager for more, more, more.

Her hypothesis was thus: they were changed because they had been created solely from Aizen's hogyoku, rather than the combination of Kisuke's and Aizen's. There was something darker in Aizen's creation. Something… angry.

She wondered how Kisuke had collected his souls. She realized she didn't want to know.

She already knew how Aizen had done it, after all. Kisuke's methods could not have been all that different. She wondered why it was that she and the rest of the gang had always viewed Kisuke as the good guy, and Aizen as the bad guy. Well, she knew why they considered Aizen the bad guy; he was. But why hadn't Kisuke been up there with him? Because he'd changed? Because all his crimes were in the past?

Kisuke hadn't really changed. And his crimes sure as hell were catching up to him, or else Orihime wouldn't have been on her ridiculous mission to set things right. She loved Yoruichi, even though the princess was technically not the most morally upstanding-was it the same thing? Did she dislike Kisuke simply because of what he'd done to her, and to her friends, or did she hate him for the right reasons?

I wish it was you they captured, she thought. He'd never loved anyone weak enough to put himself in danger. Even his so-called children had been made to stand up against any enemy. Then, she had another thought; if Kisuke had been the one in her position, would that mean… Kisuke wearing her old dress? She snorted on her laugher and turned over in bed. The poofy sleeves made him look ridiculous.

The nature of war was just that the innocent people were the ones who were going to suffer. Really, the espada had done nothing other than exists; nothing other than be born, and they were villains. Orihime's friends would be pulled into battle, and why? Because they were strong? Because everything in the twisted, terrible world revolved around Ichigo? Which, by the way, was going to stop and then crush him later in life. The whole thing was entirely unfair, but she was certain it was thus in any war, any conflict. No bad person took the time to fight for what was right, and good people didn't start wars. So what was left between?

But then, she was starting the war this time, wasn't she? She'd been the one to march herself into Hueco Mundo without a struggle. Who cared that she'd been threatened? She was strong enough to protect herself and the ones she loved at the same time. If she'd wanted to, she could have dug her heels in and refused to let things begin.

So whose fault is it, really? Hers? Aizens? Kisukes? Was it some grand cosmic scheme she hadn't even glimpsed the full specter of?

She turned over again. Ulquiorra's sheets were cool and slippery-very unfeeling in contrast the worn fluffy blankets she usually favored. She pulled them up around her shoulders and tried to get warm, rubbing her pajama-clad legs together and bundling herself into a ball. She'd thrown the blanket on the sofa for Ulquiorra, in hopes that he might sleep, and she was regretting it. Her thoughts were turning a mile a minute, making it hard to fall asleep as it was, but if she were forced to be cold and uncomfortable all night she wouldn't sleep at all.

Finally, Orihime admitted that she'd had enough. She stood and tiptoed into the silver light spilling across the floor, hand gentle on the knob of the door ashe she eased it open.

There was no one about in the main room. The window was open, and outside, a winged creature was slowly moving through the sky. A dragon-thing of sorts. She watched it, for a moment, before redirecting her attention to the couch, were the blanket sat neatly folded on the end.

She tip-toed to the couch and picked the blanket up, swinging it around her shoulders like a cape. She shivered, pulling it tightly about herself, and buried her nose into it. It smelled clean and crisp, like the air after a heavy fog.

Orihime turned to head back to bed, pausing only when she picked up the sound of voices near the door. Two masculine voices, both of which she recognized but couldn't immediately place. Slowly, she moved to the door, which had been left open a crack. She crouched down and put herself against the wall, listening.

"-orders, I just came to give you the message."

That was Starkk, she realized. His lazy drawl was hard to miss.

"Why would Lord Aizen not come himself?"

The second was Ulquiorra, who was easy to identify.

"I don't know. He's wary of her."

"The girl? She's human."

"I don't know." Starkk sighed. "Look, just do it. Even if I'm pulling your leg, so what? It's not like you're going out of your way. You don't like her or anything, do you?"

Orihime swallowed.

"I will do as Aizen commands," Ulquiorra said in a very clear 'I don't like anything, fool' tone. "I simply believe this could be resolved without fanfare."

"Take it up with him, then. I don't care what you do to her. But don't let the girl know you've met with him. We don't want her to be suspicious."

"She is human," Ulquiorra said again, like he was explaining that dogs couldn't read. "She cannot know what it is that I do with my time."

"She's full of surprises, according to the shinigami. So be careful." Starkk yawned. "Have fun with your little pet project."

Orihime stood and ran, quietly as she could. She slipped into the room, closed the door, and then flung herself onto the bed. She realized she still had the blanket. There was no time to go back out and put it on the couch, but how long had he been out of the room? Would he suspect she'd been up to overhear his conversation?

Too late. She threw the blanket over the sheets and burrowed beneath them. She flung her arms askew, tilted back her head, opened her mouth and let out a small bit of drool. Eyes closed, she did her best approximation of dead-to-the-world sleep.

For a moment, it was simply quiet. Orihime could feel the light on her face, however, as eventually the door slowly creaked open. There were footsteps, coming closer. Her heart began to pound. Why hadn't she locked the door? Ulquiorra's door had a lock. What was he going to do?

He stopped just by the head of the bed.

For a moment, nothing happened. Orihime kept her breathing even and deep, twitching her hand just slightly like she'd been told she did in her sleep. She waited, prepared to summon her fairies.

The footsteps started away. The light closed away from her face as the door shut. There was silence, and nothing else. Orihime threw out her perception for any traces of Ulquiorra, but he was already leaving the other room, off to do who knows what.

Slowly, she sat up, wiping the drool from her cheek with the back of her hand. Her heart rate evened out in a few moments. She curled up into a ball and set her chin on her knees. Why was everything so complicated anymore? Had it been this complicated the first time, but she was just too busy being scared and imprisoned to realize? Man, being an adult sucked!

There was just no way she was going to be able to go back to sleep. With Ulquiorra gone, she cautiously poked her head out of the bedroom, and then into the hall. No one was about, and the lights were low. No matter; she could feel the way she needed to go.

Carefully, she closed the door to Ulquiorra's rooms behind her, and took out into the hall. Her fairies perked up at the move. Shunui popped up, blond head tilted in concern.

"Orihime," he said, "This doesn't seem like a good idea."

"Too late for that," she muttered. Seeing his frown deepen, she sighed and then put on a smile. "And besides, I don't need to worry with you guys by my side."

That did placate them a little bit. Shun disappeared back into one of the pins attached to the lapel of her pajamas. The fact that they were worried probably meant that she wasn't so sure about this idea herself, but she'd already told herself it was happening.

Barefooted and clothed in her silly yellow duck pajamas, she took deeper into the castle. Down the stairs, around corners, up a set of stairs, and to a door that looked like it had seen better days. The hinges were double-reinforced, and the amount of scratches around the door handles were concerning, like some idiot couldn't be fucked to care about what he was doing when trying to get into his own room. The amount of dents and other such wounds to the door said that there were often fights in this particular hallway.

Orihime was not surprised.

She pondered, for a moment, whether or not to knock. She tried the handle and found it wasn't locked, but it still seemed a little presumptuous to just… walk in. But she didn't want to wake up anyone else.

Oh well.

Knock, knock, knock.

There was no sound for several minutes. He was in there, though-she could feel it.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Finally, she heard cursing and rustling from within. A moment later, the door was thrown open with obvious content. Grimmjow leaned out, hair a wild staticy mess about his head, face twisted in a snarl. "WHAT!?"

"Hey, I'm lonely," Orihime said. "Wanna have a sleepover?"

Grimmjow wasn't the type to think before he spoke. "What?"

"I said-"

"I heard you. What do you mean, a sleepover? Do you know what fucking time it is? I was sleeping!"

"I know." She tilted her head. "Don't you want to be friends?"

"After that stunt you pulled earlier, you bitch? No way!"

"But what if you lose another arm? What then?"

"Aizen will order you to heal it, idiot."

"What if I don't want to?"

"D-Don't want to!? Are you stupid?"

"Yeah," she said.

"Aizen will make you!"

"Aizen doesn't scare me," she lied. "Do you want to be friends or not?"

"Fine!" He threw his arms up, turning to go back inside. "Get in here before I decide to toss your stupid ass out."

She stepped in, closing the door behind her.

Where Ulquiorra's room was calm and collected, Grimmjow's was… not.

He had workout equipment and various 'treasures' such as large rocks, skeletons, and trash. The high-walls were fucked beyond repair, and several different large strips of fabric had been pinned randomly about the room, on booth the ceiling and the walls. His bed was a shredded mattress topped in shredded pillows and shredded blankets. All in all, it looked… terrible.

"Do you like. Bring people back here to have sex?" She asked him.

"Yeah. And?"

"Ah. Do they come back for seconds?"

He turned to glare at her.

"Right. Forget I asked." She smiled wide at him.

He had a bathroom and, for some reason, a bar tucked into the corner. He started towards the bar, where he poured himself a glass of tequila. Not a shot. A glass.

"Anyway," he said. He took a sip. "What the fuck do you want?"

She felt like she was on some bizarre reality TV show. Local Man Lives Like THIS!? More at 7! She didn't even know where to sit. She picked her way across the room to the sticky bar, which she hopped up onto and sat with. Grimmjow glared at her, like having her butt on his bar was just too barbaric. She just gave him a look.

"What?" He demanded.

"Get me something to drink," she said.

He offered out his cup.

"Not from your glass! You drank out of that!"

"So?" He held his arm out to the other glasses on the bar. "I drank out of all of them!"

"Fine." She grabbed his cup and slammed it back. She'd forgotten how much she hated tequila. It burned all the way down, causing her to wince. She handed back the glass, smacking the roof of her mouth with her tongue. "Ew."

He laughed. "Idiot."

"So," she began, nose still wrinkled in tistate. "About our sleepover."

"Yeah. If you want to have sex you'll have to wait until the bed dries."

"Wh-why is the bed wet?"

He smiled.

She decided it was best she didn't know.

"I don't want to have sex with you," she said. His brows went up as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. She rolled her eyes. "We're friends Grimmjow. This is a high school slumber party. Go find some nail polish, I'll paint your claws."

He regarded her with narrowed eyes.

She stared right back.

"One second," he said, and was off into the mounds of garbage his room was composed of.

"I can't believe you live like this!" She yelled after him. She picked up her glass and took another drink, sticking her tongue out. "Ew. But really. How do you live like this?"

"I can't be fucked to clean this shit up."

"Then don't make a mess?"

"No?"

She shook her head, watching him. Ichigo was afraid of this guy. Rukia was afraid of this guy. All of her friends, afraid. Of this guy, who was in the middle of ripping up a tarp because it had gotten stuck to his claws.

"And make us a new bed!" She yelled at him.

"No!" He started tearing fabric down from the walls and throwing it into a pile despite his rebuttal. Orihime topped off their glass and headed to the nest, settling into the mess of stuff with as much dignity as she could muster. Surprisingly enough, it was very comfortable-enough to make Ulquiorra's bed look dumb in comparison. Him and his hard matress and stiff sheets. Who needed him?

Speaking of.

"So." Orihime crossed her legs and held her hand out to accept the bottle of blue polish Grimmjow had somehow procured. "About our friendship."

"I get fucked up, you heal me. This counts hair, and hang-overs. I keep cool-ass scars like this one." He pointed at his chest. "And in return I'll be your friend or whatever."

"And in return," she painted his first nail. "You make sure Ulquiorra doesn't kill me."

Grimmjow paused, turning to look at her. "Wait. What?"

She silently painted his next nail.

"You think he's going to try to kill you?" He didn't seem concerned so much as interested. "Why would he do that?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "But it's a possibility."

"You're a hostage, aren't you? Or something? Wait, did you defect to our side for real? I can't tell." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Your friends suck, so you came to us. Right?"

"No. My friends are… great." She was thinking about Ichigo ramming his head into the shower curtain rod every time she was forced to put it back up when it fell because he told her she could handle it. Every. Time. "Really great." She had to remember that Uryuu wasn't all that bad, and above him, Chad, the angel, did in fact exist.

"Sure they are. I mean, Kurosaki is a peice of ass." He paused. "Like I mean. Damn."

"In a good way…?"

"In the way that I wanna plow him into the fucking floor. Or wall. Any surface, really, I'm not picky." He shrugged. His first hand was finished, so he took it back to inspect it. He seemed pleased. "Does being your friend include you swinging that for me?"

"Again. You punched a hole through his girlfriend."

"And? Kinda sexy if you think about it."

"I mean, not really." She shook her head. "I'm not a hostage, and I'm not a traitor. I'm just… here. And I need you to watch my back. Because Ulquiorra is… well. He follows orders. He doesn't really know anything else."

"You can say that again. Did you know the espada aren't supposed to fuck each other? He follows that rule. I mean, what an idiot, am I right?"

"What espada would he be fucking?" She asked, baffled. "You?"

"I can do way better than him."

"Sure, Grimmjow."

"Starkk, for example. But that asshole is a pillow princess."

"Great, Grimmjow."

"Anyway. It's not like I'm supposed to be around you."

"I thought you liked breaking the rules."

"I also like it when Aizen and the rest aren't up my fucking asshole."

"Good point." She frowned. "Just. I don't know. How about you act like you want to kill me? No one else can kill me but you. Because… I sassed you or something. Turned down your offers of sex. How about that? And that way no one will think twice about you keeping tabs on me."

"Do I actually get to kill you when this is over with?"

"No."

"Fine. Bitch."

"You're dumber than I remember," she told him. "There. All done. Like it?"

He regarded his other hand. "Acceptable," he decided. "Fine. I'll make sure batboy doesn't kill you. And you make sure I keep all my limbs. Sound good?"

"Yes," she said. "And in the meantime…" she raised their glass. "We drink and have sleepovers."