Disclaimer: By rule of several boldly announced statements (-cough-Copyright laws –cough-) and lots of other scary people with suitcases, I do not own Bleach.
Thanks for all the reviews guys! You r mai inspirations and motivations: St. Kitsune, NakeBenihime, frostedheavens, Brighit R. Gauthier, DoodleNoodle-no-baka, Lady Kaliska, and Kpivos.
A/N: I posted this one very early because I'm going to be quite busy in the coming days.
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Chapter Six Iris Ensata
Flowers never emit so sweet and strong a fragrance as before a storm. When a storm approaches thee, be as fragrant as a sweet smelling flower. –Jean Paul Richter
"Konnichi wa."
The girl in the reflection of vanity mirror recited four, crisp syllables. Hello, she had said, and Orihime responded by lifting one hand to her own face.
She drew her fingers over the ever deepening ridges of her eyes. She could feel them; the sharp swell of her cheek bones, outlined by the gentle press of her probing fingertips. She had gotten thinner, she realized. Paler. She attempted to smile, but she found that her lips did not have the appetite. She attempted to laugh…but her heart lacked the sustaining ache. And as much as she was tempted to acknowledge this emptiness, she did not.
Instead, the girl merely settled for mild disorientation; shrugged the white camisole higher upon her shoulders, adjusted the zipper, and tweaked a lock of hair. She tugged one black stocking over a milky white thigh…looped a loose lock of red behind her ear…wrenched the other stocking on and made sure that the long skirt she was wearing did not get caught in the pull…danced her fingers around the rough white geta until each were firmly strapped to her feet.
"You look lovely," Shun'o said, his eyes steeped into pleasant smiles, "You always do."
"Arigatou…" She responded, the acknowledgement tumbling out of her lips rather gracelessly.
The fairy hovered on her shoulder, his blonde ponytail swinging with incandescent cheer. "Look, Orihime, they cut your hair evenly. Goodness…it makes you look older."
She sighed mutedly, ignoring the sullen pang from that comment.
She hadn't known their names; the arrancar that had bustled in after Ulquiorra retreated had rather dutifully transformed her. And though they had not resurrected her from her current state, they'd accurately covered it up with new garbs and a haircut. In short…dolled her up for her date with their master.
It reminded her of how a funeral parlor was run; dress the body as best you could and then send it to the grave. There were, however, subtle details that could not be avoided; a stab wound for instance could be sewn for good measure, but you could still see the slit of puckered up flesh.
And now, as she sat before the mirror they'd brought, all she could do was wait. Thusly, she had waited. Waited all morning, slept until the evening stumbled around and found she hadn't napped so refreshingly in a very long time. It was strange…
And now as the stars nipped at the sky in the reflection of the mirror, her anxiety rocked her spine like a time bomb. She was positively dreading him.
Her fairy, Shun'o, had externalized in order to offer her company—a rather unusual feat, since her fairies only came out when she summoned them—shooting the occasional compliment or warm phrase. She had not minded…she had welcomed his presence by acceptance but she did not lend him conversation.
Finally, just when the worrying could not reach another level of terror, Ulquiorra Schiffer sprang through the door in all of his phantom-like grandeur. She stood immediately and Shun'o emaciated back into her hair clip.
"Aizen-sama has requested your presence. You will follow me." He turned on his heel.
--
He stood on the second step from the bottom.
He looked vaguely magnificent, as if he'd popped anew from the slightest threads of inexistence, even though his absence had amassed to be only that of two days. All white robes shaped his shoulders and a violently dark obi lit his waist. It appeared to be magenta; its hue was thicker than blood. He was smiling, his brown eyes rather lazy…and the massive ivory staircase that spawned from behind him led into unknown depths.
She thought that she had been breathless when Ulquiorra led her through the halls. But if she was breathless then…her lungs had to be pinched to prunes now.
"Good evening, Orihime." He held out one opened palm; an expression of invitation.
The girl executed a half-hearted stumble…forwarded herself, rather clumsily, until she hit the foot of the stairs. He did not guide her up. Rather, she awkwardly anchored onto his hand and took each step as if she'd forgotten how to walk.
She paused, keeping her eyes carefully averted. "Hai…konbon wa." When he did not release her hand, she gracelessly removed it and fumbled with loose strand of hair.
A trickle of amusement danced in his eyes. "It interests me…what you have done."
Their close proximity was suffocating her, "I don't know what you mean, Aizen-sama."
"You cut your hair, did you not Orihime?"
"Oh, yes." She clasped her hands out before her. "Yes…I did. Does it not please you?" She mentally winced, remembering Ulquiorra's words.
"On the contrary." A subtle smile split his face again, "I find it very suiting. However…experimenting with liberties will cause me to question what else you may attempt when I am not around."
Hard embarrassment lit her cheeks and she swallowed drily. "You will not have to worry about such things, Aizen-sama."
He looked down at her, "I am sure…that I will not."
And he stepped away, ascending the high cluster of stairs that opened up to an archway of beaming light. "Follow me, if you will."
Orihime silently ghosted his heels, a faint feeling of incredulity swimming through her chest. It was so suddenly unreal that she standing behind him, that all of her friends were dead, that she would never see Karakura Town again. Unreal that she had accepted this fate…accepted that this was the closest thing to happiness that she would ever achieve.
They stepped through the entrance and the world burst anew. Below them, another set of stairs that led to an opened courtyard; sand build up, stone walkways, and a moon that burst a crescent above. Surrounding them from off the side were the barring walls that kept out the unwanted in Las Noches. She was in the outside in, and the fresh air that raked her lungs was unfamiliar.
Aizen stood aside and she allowed herself to descend. And once she reached the bottom, she realized that something was extravagantly strange…
A cluster of unlikely vegetation, huddled beneath the looming form of a curving sand dune, caught her attention. And upon further inspection she realized that they were flowers. Hundreds…thousands of them, were blooming from the reaches of the sand as if it were all too natural. She was stunned to see their infestation! The idea that there were flowers sprouting in such a horrid environment was absolutely inconceivable.
Yet, there they were; velveteen origami figurines whose faces were turned upward in order to drink the moon.
They were lovely Japanese irises…yellow folds bloomed from their receptive mouths and a gentle purple hue trickled over the crinkled white skin of their petals. Odd…she was afraid to graze them, as if they were intoxicating with only a mere touch. Or…as if they would singe her skin had she dare impose her own impurities on such an innocent thing.
"They are the Light at Dawn." Aizen's voice floated to her, "Enhanced…they will bloom even in the most peculiar conditions."
"Doshite…?"
"Why?" Aizen smiled, "Simply because I want them to."
His reply startled her, but she could not think of anything inventive to say back to him. So instead, she allowed the nail of her finger to tickle the under belly of one lopsided petal. "They are very pretty."
"Indeed." His voice captured her again, "Which is why they only flourish here."
"Ano…it seems strange that they would grow out of sand. But…you don't want them to be tainted?" She actually sounded confused at her own wording.
"Iie." He began to walk ahead of her, "I do not."
His robes swept past her crouched form and then he was ahead of her. She huddled, for a moment, and gazed outward at the steep walls which circumscribed the innards of Las Noches. This was when an astonishingly wild thought clasped to the forefront of her mind. She could escape…could she not?
If she just allowed Aizen Sousuke to trust her enough, she could escape.
Demo…even if she could escape, where would she go? Miles and miles of hostile desert and blood thirsty scavengers waited beyond the gates of The Night. Orihime could not survive on her own…traipsing out in that sort of wild was ludicrous. She'd much rather spend the night in a tiger infested jungle.
Iie. Attempting to deceive a god of deception was not a very prudent idea. She was, in all her subtle naivety, sure that Aizen could smell treachery from a mile away…and she was infinitely sure that she was incapable of pulling such a hoax herself.
"Orihime."
Her mild moment of liveliness seeped back into nothingness.
"It is impolite to keep me waiting."
"Gomen nasai…" She bleated, pulling herself back to her feet. "I did not mean to do so…"
He smiled in understanding, "Quite alright. It is not unusual for one to lose oneself when searching very carefully for answers."
Orihime froze, cold fear spearing through her breathing cavity. His eyes, piercing maroon, were narrowed as if searing through the very depth of her intentions. "Aizen-sama--" She panicked as he approached, a throaty burst of air escaping her lips, "I did not—"
"Silence. Tell me…what does that word mean to you?"
Her throat wrenched nearly closed. "An—"
Aizen Sousuke flash-stepped; grasped the zipper to her camisole and tugged her forward and she whimpered.
"It means," He looked past her, "To reframe from speaking…"
She couldn't breathe. He was too close…too damned close…her heart was melting red hot over her ribcage…she could feel it, seeping into her belly, only to evaporate as butterflies…
"It means," He continued, "To reframe from speaking even in the places where I cannot hear you." His eyes darted back into place, cutting into her own. "Do you understand?"
"Yes!"
"No, you have yet to pick up on what I am telling you." To her heated horror and confusion, he only pulled her even closer.
"Aizen—"
His fingers slowly pried at the zipper, pulling it down and peeling the enclosed folds apart—
"Stop it!" She yanked away, trembling mechanically. "Please—"
He was before her again, curling his arm around the arch of her back. She was forced to bend, her chest pressing into his, "Please…what?" His voice fell into a chilling undertone.
She was dizzy, and she realized that this was all incessant gibberish, and that the blush melting onto her cheeks was a product of more than just the combined heat of their bodies. She could feel the artery in her neck pulsating full force and then—
The tip of his tongue dipped lightly onto her neck, nicking the throbbing layer of skin…and stars of desire exploded forth in her vision.
"Hn…" He released her and she plummeted, but his hand snapped out to grab her zipper and she was hovering blindly.
"Are there any further discrepancies that you wish to share with Aizen-sama?"
A throaty no, fluttered tonelessly from her lips…and Aizen felt a rich thrum of satisfaction sift through his blood like gold. "So ka. Then we will continue on, as promised."
He paused.
"How would you like your tea?"
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Aizen: I R god!!
AA: Lolzerz!…No u IS not. Now hush, before I eradicate you with this eraser. –holds out giant eraser-
Aizen: I'm afraid you cannot do that. –smiles—
AA: -glares- And why ever not??
Aizen: It is quite simple. You do not own Aizen-sama...and I am sure many of my fangirls will hurriedly sacrifice your blood in order to assure my resurrection...if it were to occur.
AA: Psh! Haha! Hahahaha!!
Aizen:...
AA: Hahahaha! That's some funny shizzit.
Aizen: You are, perhaps, the only person whom I have failed to understand.
AA: Excellent. That means I have done my job. Stick around for the next chapter you guys!