Story Title: A Soldier's Honor
Pairing: Grimmjow/Orihime (GrimmHime)
Summary (extended):The war is over. Aizen has won. Lives have been lost, but the fight is not over. Inoue is back in Hueco Mundo, being used for her healing abilities. Grimmjow has a secret that she should know. When things are this miserable, it can bring people together. But will she remember him when she wakes up?
Disclaimer:I don't own Bleach or any of its characters, or plot. I just own my devious imagination!
Individual chapter rating: T for character death, vague gore
A/N: Well, I assume some of you are alarmed at the chapter rating… This chapter is upsetting, and unfortunately, very short. It just turned out that way, and I couldn't add more onto it. I'll make up for it in the next chapter. Anyway, more POV changes. R&R… And look forward to the next chapter.
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A Soldier's Honor
Written by Illuminate the Shadows
Beta'd by Innocent Sinner in Hell
Chapter Four
Word Count: 1,087
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It seemed to take endless seconds to reach him.
The sand sunk beneath my feet, making it nearly impossible to run down the slope. Instead, I half-fell, half-stumbled, until I reached the flat concrete surface of the training arena. Finally able to move properly, I ran toward his motionless figure.
When I dropped to my knees, relief flooded over me. His eyes were open, and his chest rising and falling. He was alive.
And then I really opened my eyes. His bloody chest was rising and falling with uneven, laboured breaths. His pained eyes were barely open, squinting at the agony he was enduring. He was dying.
"Did… That hollow hurt you?" he gasped. Barely aware of the tears on my cheeks, I shook my head helplessly. 'He's worried about me? He's the one who's nearly…' Unable to finish my thought, I stared desperately at his wound. It was deep; I was fairly sure I could see a rib within the mess of blood. Wincing, I turned my head as Nel fell beside him.
"Oh! I didn't…" She was lost for words, her skin paler than I'd ever seen it. Her eyes rose to mine. "Orihime! Do something!"
'Can I heal a wound that severe?' Pulling the pin from my bangs, I pushed the doubt from my mind. 'Nothing matters. Nothing but him…'
"I reject." My whisper was soft, and trembling. It sounded nothing like me. The yellow sphere formed around his body, and I held my hands firmly to maintain it. 'There's nothing left for me if he dies…'
The strength drained from my body in a matter of seconds, but exhausted satisfaction washed over me as his wound sealed over, along with the healing of smaller cuts and nicks. Blackness threatened to overcome my mind, but I fought it until I could no more. My hands fell, with the sphere. I never felt the hard impact of the ground.
Everything was vague. I heard voices. I was in hands; hands too soft to be Grimmjow's. 'Nel?' It was hard to breathe. Lapses in my memory left me clueless as to how much time passed. 'Am I even still alive?'
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I was alive. I was breathing. My body was as good as new. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter because the little crumpled figure on the cot in front of me was dying. The woman I'd originally despised; the one who caused me all sorts of trouble and was, at one time, hopelessly in love with my enemy, was slowly fading away. I could feel her reiatsu draining; slipping away from me as I so desperately reached for her.
Her pale face was just as beautiful as ever. Her ginger hair was splayed out on the pillow beneath her head. Behind me, my overly sensitive ears picked up Aizen and Szayel's conversation.
"The only power strong enough to heal her is her own."
"And she is too weak to heal herself," Aizen murmured, a tone of disappointment to his voice. I resisted the urge to go over and wrap my fingers around his throat. 'He has no idea. All he's losing is an ally!'
Her eyes were open now, staring at the ceiling. That would usually be referred to as a sign of life, but to me, it was the opposite. I knew she was dying. Dying from saving me. 'She should have left me there. Her life is so much more precious than mine.'
"Grimmjow…?"
That was the last thing I expected. Her unbelievably frail, broken voice – perhaps her last few breaths – and she spoke my name. Leaning over her, I caught her attention.
"I'm here."
She blinked slowly, struggling to focus on my face. "Are you okay?"
My face twisted into an expression of disbelief. 'She's on her death bed and she wants to know if I'm okay.' Reaching out to touch her hand, I nodded. "I'm fine. How are you?"
She managed a slight smile, though it seemed like sort of a wince. "Never better." She summoned the strength to wrap her delicate fingers around mine. Hardly aware of Aizen and Szayel in the room, I leaned over her figure.
"You shouldnt'a saved me."
Her eyes held my gaze. "I had to. I couldn't let you die."
Baring my teeth, I growled. "Why not? You'd be perfectly fine if you hadn't!" She winced at my sudden harsh tone, and I reeled my anger in with some effort. "You can't leave me here, Orihime. There's nothing left if you do."
This time, her smile reached her eyes, as did the tears. One slid down her cheek, leaving a damp stain in its wake. "I thought Arrancar didn't have feelings." Her voice was whispery.
Well aware of the whirlwind of emotions ravaging my body, I shook my head helplessly. "Inoue, I killed Ichigo. Before he died, he asked me one favor. A soldier's honor… I was obligated to fulfill it. He asked me to take care of you. To make sure you got outta Hueco Mundo, and back to the Living world." Something was squeezing my heart, and I felt as if I was choking on these unfamiliar emotions.
Her expression was not what I expected it to be. She didn't wear a look of hatred; like I'd expected her to when she found out I was the one to kill her beloved. She didn't seem disgusted, like I'd thought she would when I told her our relationship had only started because I was supposed to look after her. Her lips simply curved up into a smile, and she reached up to my face with a trembling hand. Her fingertips grazed my skin, and only then did I realize there was something wet on my cheek.
"I'm not leaving forever," she whispered, her voice growing weaker each time her lips parted. I had to struggle to find her reiatsu.
Shaking my head slightly, I covered her hand with mine. "You won't remember me."
With a soft sigh, her eyes slipped closed. "I'll come back." Her voice was so soft that I strained to hear it, even with my enhanced ears. "I will."
"Inoue." That couldn't be my voice. So broken, so defeated. There were more tears on my cheeks; I could feel them. "Inoue?"
Her hand was limp in mine. Releasing hers, it fell to rest on her stomach. Tears – my tears – sparkled on her cheeks. Her reiatsu was gone.