P . A . T . H . W . A . Y
VI
Loki
As the sun went down, Orihime could hear distant noises from deep within Las Noches, and knew it must be Hollows, perhaps hundreds of them, awakening all at once. She kept darting nervous glances at the door, knowing this to be the mischievous shinigami's doing.
Orihime frowned. She expected the 'get-together' would be a wonderful excuse for a large number of Hollows to be deviant in the otherwise drab castle. The human girl had been to many parties in her realm of existence, but they were all fun and light-hearted—set up by friends at school with nothing better to do during their time off. A room full of murderous soul-eaters and bored gods of death sounded more like a trip to hell rather than something fun to do. Especially if it was Gin Ichimaru who had organized it. Orihime had just put on the finishing touches to her hair and kimono when Ulquiorra swept inside. The tenseness in his slender frame made her already apprehensive heart thrum with panic. He stood in the doorframe expectantly, and she walked obediently forward. He stopped her before she stepped into the darkened hall, leaned down to whisper in her ear. She felt his hand grip her shoulder briefly, but it was now a comfort rather than a threat.
"Stay close to me."
Yes sir, she nodded acquiescence, since her voice seemed to have flown away all of a sudden. The cacophonous noises outside grew louder all the while. Ulquiorra kept his hand on her shoulder for a few moments more, as if he were about to say something else, but then, perhaps thought better of it. All too soon, his hand withdrew, leaving Orihime feeling very alone. The slender Arrancar was the first beyond the threshold, beckoning her to follow. She leaped to his side, nearly tripping over the edges of her kimono in her rush. She found herself gripping at his sleeve to steady herself, just as a bone-chilling gust of wind ripped through the hallway, and her field of vision was engulfed by pitch black.
Orihime opened her eyes slowly, the velvety darkness pressing on them like a blindfold. It was so quiet, that the very silence itself seemed loud in her ears. She panicked, tried to call out, but it swallowed her voice. It was so cold here, like nothing she had ever felt before. She felt nothing beneath her, her feet rested no longer on solid ground. As though she hung weightless in space…
But she was still hanging there.
It was then that she realized that she still clung to Ulquiorra's arm. He was still beside her, though she couldn't see him. Relief calmed her fear—he would guide her through this, she thought. She had faith in him.
There was a voice above her. His, she realized, just before a flash of green light chased the shadows away and a long piercing howl emanated from all around her, like the harsh noise of hurricane winds, or the sound of many voices raised in fright all at once. The light hit her eyes, momentarily blinding because the darkness before had been so complete. She glanced up, and her face drained of all color at what her eyes perceived.
Hundreds of white masks spun around them, in a vortex of cloaked shade, like the eye of a tornado. Each face was similar—long noses and grinning mouths set in disks of alabaster. The eyes did not shine, but she could feel their gazes on her nonetheless. They slid and slithered around one another, masks becoming distorted as they squeezed against the wall of the cramped corridor.
Ulquiorra read the many faces whirling around them, his eyes flicking to and fro between each. Suddenly one of them ceased its route around them, withdrawing from the vortex as if it were stepping from the surface of a dark river. Its body hit the floor with a resounding thud, and it hunched over while the others watched from behind it. Its enormous grinning face leaned closer to have a better look at Orihime, completely ignoring the Vasto Lorde she clung to. She saw its crescent maw open, the marble bricks of teeth parting as if to grant her entrance. Its skull-like eyes were fixed solely on her.
"You are not permitted here," Ulquiorra said loudly, and the Hollow turned its attention to him instead. The dark sockets of its bone-hued mask glinted ravenously. Orihime shivered, involuntarily clutching more tightly at Ulquiorra's arm.
"Leave this place."
The Hollow bent down, its deathly rancid breath wafting through their hair. Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed, and his right hand pulsed with unused Cero as he lifted it towards the intruding Gillian. It arched its back like a feral cat, its mask withdrawing, and swiftly leaped up. She watched as its form vanished through the ceiling. As if on cue, the vortex dissolved chaotically, the Gillian within scattering like rats. Orihime heard the sound of her own quickened breath in the following quiet, her face still pressed to the Arrancar's sleeve.
She had never seen that many Gillian in one place before… hadn't known that many even existed…
"Orihime," she heard Ulquiorra say softly. She looked up into the viridian eyes, and straightened, smoothed her kimono with her free hand. She knew she must be as white as a sheet after all of that, but decided that she wouldn't let the fourth Espada know how frightened she'd been. He gazed at her as if expecting her to crumble at any moment.
"Let's go," she told him determinedly, though she still kept a tight grip on his arm. At her insistence, Ulquiorra glided forward, with Orihime beside him, both wary of more stray Hollows. If that was the greeting she got just by merely walking out the door, it was nothing compared to what awaited her ahead, she thought. They hurried like lost spirits in the monster-filled castle.
"I guess this whole thing's got everyone excited, huh?" she asked, trying to lighten the deadly ominous mood.
"That man must have awakened them," he replied stoically, every so often glancing up at the vaulted ceiling. "Aizen-sama will not be pleased with his actions—nor my carelessness, had I not been there to defend you." Orihime swallowed hard, thinking of the implications of that statement. If she hadn't taken hold of his arm…
"They would have—?" she began tentatively.
"Gillian are not intelligent creatures," he said, studying the space above him with a practiced eye. Orihime started to wonder what exactly he was looking at, but did not have the courage as of yet to look there herself. "They understand simple orders only, and are always hungry. They would not restrain themselves when presented with sustenance merely based on verbal command."
In other words, I'm a sitting duck without Ulquiorra around.
They entered a grand room with many doors, as vast and empty as a cathedral. She felt a chill run down her spine, and, finally tracing the Arrancar's gaze upward, her eyes fell upon the ceiling.
It was moving.
There had to be thousands of Gillian there; the ceiling was raised so high above them, and the room was so large and vacant, that it couldn't have been any other way. She saw many of them break from the main fluid stream, and wriggle like giant black worms near the pair below before resuming their place in the seething mass. Orihime gripped Ulquiorra's arm even more tightly—he glanced at her, perhaps to make sure she was all right. If he were human, she imagined that he would be complaining of loss of circulation by now.
That's what Ichigo would do, at any rate.
They chose the middle door; walked farther down the hall, and came to a great double-door, not unlike Aizen's throne room. It was closed, but as they neared the portal, Orihime could hear voices and raucous noises on the other side. They stopped together, both staring at the door, and then at one another.
"Stay close, right?" Orihime asked, feigning a hesitant smile.
Ulquiorra placed a hand on the dark marble, and pushed it open.
The scene that greeted them was chaotic. There were tables full of food, strange dishes from lands Orihime was certain she'd never heard of, drinks that ranged in a wide variety of colors—from clear liquid that might have been water to radioactive pink beverages that the more human-like Hollows around one side of the room were guzzling by the bottle-full. The room was not well lit, but torchlights of various hues and magnitudes were scattered all around. And the Hollows themselves—were everywhere.
Some sat idly eating, sleeping, or drinking; while still others flew in mad pathways around the room, tipping over furniture wherever they flew. An Arrancar with bubble-gum pink hair and glasses sat in the middle of a large group, drinking wine and telling jokes—to which all of the others around him laughed and jeered. An old, grizzled Arrancar slept peacefully in a conspicuously empty corner. Orihime cast her gaze around, told herself not to get comfortable. Despite their human appearances, these were Arrancar, and wouldn't hesitate under different circumstances to devour her.
Her attention returned to Ulquiorra, who was peering around warily.
If circumstances had been different…
There was a loud crash on the other side of the room.
Grimmjow Jeagerjaques was fighting in the center of a ring of onlookers, against an enormous brute of an Arrancar—the very same who had stood alongside Ulquiorra over a month past. The cerulean-maned Espada landed a final punch just as she noticed the battle, and the enormous Arrancar swayed slowly and fell backwards with a resounding thud. The fight was punctuated by a chorus of cheers. She watched nervously from a distance, just before his electric blue eyes fell on the two of them.
"Ulquiorra!" Grimmjow called, and every Hollow nearby looked over at them. Orihime stood tall, wanting to appear stronger than she felt. Gradually, every Hollow in the room fell silent to peer at her. She looked around at all the leering faces, feeling very much like a rabbit in a den of foxes. They all seemed—jealous.
Why?
"And his pet! The little human girl who managed to impress Aizen a week ago!" Grimmjow sneered at them, and Orihime felt a tiny sting of betrayal. It had been she who healed his arm!
"Tell ya what, girl," the sixth Espada jeered. "Heal up Yammy over here so I can smack him down again! Unless Ulquiorra wants to fight me instead?" She felt the collective gazes shift to the pale Arrancar beside her and discreetly tried to pull away from him, not wanting to appear as though she were clinging to him—which she was, she admitted.
She felt a tug on the back of her sleeve—his fingers were wrapped around the cloth there, unseen.
"I still got a score to settle with you—ain't that right?" The fourth Espada glared at Grimmjow—Orihime could see his muscles tensing. The Arrancar around them stared, hungry expressions etched on their faces. The pink-haired Arrancar snorted, and took a sip of wine.
"Leave off for a minute, and fight me," Grimmjow hissed. "We'll see who's better suited for number four, eh?"
Ulquiorra did not answer, but walked towards a set of chairs slowly, away from Grimmjow, pulling Orihime in his wake. She looked over at the sixth Espada, who glared angrily at her in return…
In the moment she looked away from him, he appeared beside Ulquiorra. The fourth Espada was tense; his hand gripped around the cerulean-haired Espada's fist—which was poised over her head, she realized with a shock. She backed away from them uneasily, Ulquiorra's secure grip on her sleeve lost. The room was deathly still, everyone interested to see what would happen next.
Grimmjow grinned lazily.
"Got your attention now, ain't that right?" he chuckled. Ulquiorra's face was masked by his dark hair, his figure completely still. "What? 'Fraid she can't take a hit?" Grimmjow's eyes shifted to hers, his devious grin spreading across his countenance. In another second he was bent double, and there were startled noises from the crowd.
Ulquiorra had struck him in the chest with his free hand.
There was a long pause—Orihime heard hushed murmurs from the watching Arrancar, just before Grimmjow started laughing.
It started low, nearly too quiet to hear, then rose gradually, mirthless and insane. Orihime remembered the same laugh echoing against the walls of Aizen's throne room, just after the blue-eyed Espada had killed his replacement. She watched Ulquiorra fearfully, knowing he had angered the sixth Espada for her sake.
The sixth Espada rose, wrenched his hand free of Ulquiorra's vice-like grasp. His face was twisted in an expression of mounting hilarity. A droplet of red ran slowly from the corner of his mouth. His arm rested over his heart, and his bouts of laughter were accompanied by a wheezing cough.
"Must've gotten you mad, eh?"
The room was deathly silent now, and in the tense atmosphere, no one noticed the doors open again.
Suddenly, Grimmjow lunged, snarling gutturally, but was stopped before he could get to Ulquiorra by a sudden flash of silver. Orihime flinched at its appearance—it was a long blade, carving the air between the two Arrancar. She followed it to its source, and saw Gin Ichimaru standing amongst the spectators, his cheerful visage strangely conspicuous in the sea of astonished faces. Orihime saw him lift a hand to greet her as her eyes met his. She nodded hesitantly, not knowing what else she should do.
"Y'all ain't s'posed to be fightin' in here," he admonished, as if speaking to errant children. "It's rude. Specially when I ain't here to watch it too." He chuckled, and there were a few hesitant smiles among those nearest to him—everyone, it seemed, was at least respectful towards Gin Ichimaru.
Ulquiorra and Grimmjow stared daggers into one another, Shinso's blade a barrier between them. Then, it retracted, and Ichimaru slid it securely within its sheath. Gradually, the Hollows returned to their previous activities, all save the fourth and sixth Espada, who were still frozen ten feet apart. Orihime waited nervously for something to happen, but they merely stood there, glaring.
She felt a long-fingered hand on her shoulder, and jumped.
"Ha ha, scared ya again," she heard Ichimaru's oily voice whisper from somewhere behind her ear. He slid past her easily, and made his way between the two Arrancar, his arms folded. The blue-haired Espada stiffened at his appearance, but Ulquiorra only stared past him, his eyes still fixed on his opponent. A few other Arrancar around them glanced around to watch, but at warning glances from the silver fox-face, they quickly looked away. Orihime swallowed, her eyes shifting from Ichimaru to Ulquiorra, fearing what the shinigami would do next.
"Ya don't seem ta be enjoyin' yerselves much, Grimmy, Green Tears." He nodded to each Espada in their turn.
"We only just got here," Orihime blurted unexpectedly. All three of them turned to look at her, Grimmjow's and Ichimaru's expression both quizzical. "Grimmjow-san attacked, and S-Schiffer-san was only trying to defend me." Just in time, Orihime remembered to use Ulquiorra's last name, though it sounded strange on her tongue since she hadn't used it nearly at all in the time she'd been here.
Grimmjow glared at her, but she only returned the angry look, feeling perfectly justified in ratting him out since he had called her out in front of all of these Arrancar. Serves you right.
"S'that so?" Ichimaru smirked incredulously, obviously more disappointed that he had missed the show, rather than actually concerned for Orihime's well being. "Good thing ya got Green Tears to come then." He smirked at Ulquiorra. "Didn' think 'e had it in 'im. Didn' think 'e'd think it was necessary." As he put haughty emphasis on the last word, his grin vanished completely, and he drew invisible tear streaks his cheeks with two of his fingers.
Orihime found that she could not suppress a small smile. She'd never heard anyone else mock Ulquiorra before, especially not to his face.
"It was necessary," Ulquiorra said, and in his voice there was a distinct note of anger. "Someone has allowed the Gillian to roam the halls unchecked. She would not have made it here on her own." Orihime paled, her tiny smile vanishing. Ichimaru's squinting eyes suddenly glinted red in the multicolored light of the room, but he swiftly reclaimed his sneering grin, and addressed Grimmjow.
"Ya should know better than ta attack a lady, Grimmy," he chided. "'S rude. Tell ya what? Why don'tcha go take her an' get her a drink, huh? We'll be back soon. Y'all stay here."
"Ya sayin' somethin' Green Tears?" Ichimaru asked. "Ya know I watch these halls."
"I am merely curious as to why you invited her here," he replied indifferently. "It was not a well-known fact among the Arrancar that a human woman resides in Las Noches. You have told them not only that she is here, but that she is under my care."
"She didn' have ta come," the shinigami pointed out. "Ya coulda forced her not to. Or… she coulda come by herself."
"If she came at all, she would not have been able to come alone. The Gillian would have devoured her."
"Ya coulda sent someone else with her."
"She was entrusted to me," Ulquiorra said.
Ichimaru laughed.
"Awfully protective, ain't we?"
Ulquiorra said nothing, his face impassive.
"Ya know, they found out sooner than expected she's been taken here. We're havin' a meetin' later on tonight—her lil friends are comin' to get her.
"Know what they're sayin', Green Tears?"
Again, the fourth Espada was silent. Ichimaru leaned in, leering over at him, his hand resting near the hilt of his zanpakouto.
"That it was about three days after ya took her here when they figured it out. There ain't no way, if ya was s'posed to dispose of the guards, that they coulda realized what happened that quick."
"They believe her to be a traitor. I have observed them myself."
Ichimaru gave a short, barking laugh.
"S'what Cap'n Aizen says ya did. But I don' think ya had it planned like that then. 'Specially by what I seen jus' by watchin' ya. Ya spend a lot o' time with that girl."
"I have been ordered to safeguard her."
"Ya were ordered ta kill the guards. Leavin' witnesses alive's a risky business."
Orihime pushed the doors open quietly, watching around her for Gillian. After the incident earlier, she would be very wary of whenever she walked out of her little room now—it was lucky that she had tripped on her kimono, and fallen into the fourth Espada.
He had left with Ichimaru, and despite the fact that she knew him to be powerful, she wasn't altogether sure of the shinigami's abilities. He had been with Aizen the day that they had left for Hueco Mundo. All of the Hollows in the room had feared him—even Grimmjow, who obviously was wary of no one unless they were more powerful than he was. Orihime frowned—she had been told to stay in the room, with the blue-haired Espada. But the thought of what Gin Ichimaru was capable of had bothered her enough to come out. She stepped forward, searching for them.
"I have ensured that there is no doubt in their minds that she is a traitor."
What?
It was Ulquiorra's voice.
Orihime stepped as close as she dared to the corner, wanting to mask her own reiatsu within the massive energies within the large room.
"I would have gladly disposed of the ryoka, except that he is the one who cares the most for the woman, and is far more likely to gather a group to rescue her. Now that he has come to Hueco Mundo, he can be killed at any moment—I may well do it myself."
Orihime leaned back against the wall, not believing her ears.
Ichigo was here already… but… what was Ulquiorra saying?
He promised me he wouldn't kill anyone…
She listened numbly as Ichimaru laughed, not knowing what to think.
"Don' think Grimmy'll be too happy with that. Or the girl, if she sees ya."
"You have only made matters more difficult by spreading the knowledge of her presence here."
"Think of it as extra incentive ta do yer job," sneered Ichimaru. "Keep in mind, I don' like ya. An' I get bored watchin' the same stretch o' hall for hours at a time. With everyone comin' after her now, it'll be an interestin' show. You're jus' gonna have ta spend more time with her… if that's even possible."
Orihime swallowed hard—so that was the reason that Ichimaru had invited her. So that he could watch as Ulquiorra was forced to defend her from Hollows jealous of Aizen's favor. And the fourth Espada…
"I am merely doing so to gain her trust," she heard Ulquiorra's voice. "Once she has restored the Orb of Distortion to its proper state, there will be no more need of her. She possesses interesting powers, but she is still human—Aizen-sama may finish her as he sees fit once her usefulness has run its course."
Orihime felt her heart freeze, running the words over and over in her mind, but not believing they had come from his mouth. It couldn't have been true… They were friends… she had thought of him as she had often thought of Ichigo.
No more need…? Finish…?
Orihime slid to the floor, feeling sick. She hugged her knees to herself, willing herself not to cry. After everything he had done for her… was it all just a ruse? His emotionless voice was so deceptive—one couldn't tell whether he was telling the truth or not. He spoke of killing her in the same tone that he spoke of afternoon tea.
It can't be true…
"That's awful cold-hearted of ya, Green Tears," Ichimaru said, feigning accusation. "Befriend the poor girl an' then—" He made a small choking noise. "Had that all planned, too, didja?"
"It is a far more effective means of ensuring her cooperation than simply threatening her."
Orihime had heard enough.
She got to her feet swiftly, and silently, her heart strangely numb, but her mind already making escape plans—as she should have been doing from the start. She could come back to her room, and make a run for the oasis when everything had gone quiet. If Ichigo and her friends were on their way from the desert, she wouldn't have long to wait before she met them. If she stayed inside Las Noches, they would have to fight tooth and nail to get to her, but if they didn't have to enter it to begin with…
I can at least try to make it as easy as possible for them…
With that in mind, she quietly edged back towards the door, her hand nearing the stone surface—it wouldn't be wise to make a sound now.
She saw it creak before her hand touched the cold marble. Orihime jumped back, her heart racing, as Grimmjow Jeagerjaques stood in the doorframe.
"Hey, woman! You out—?" He looked down, his expression astonished and perplexed. "Whatcha doin' out here?" Orihime stared fearfully up at him, icy panic racing up her spine. She stood as if frozen, and Grimmjow simply gawked at her. She heard padding footsteps behind her, and knew them to belong to Ulquiorra and Ichimaru.
She'd been found out.
The human girl whirled, nearly tripping on her blue kimono. Ichimaru's smile was so wide that it threatened to bisect his face. His fingers lay politely over his mouth; as if he'd said something absolutely foul and was only just now apologizing for it.
And Ulquiorra…
His green eyes lay unblinkingly on her, his mouth parted as if about to say something, but dared not. She glared at him, feeling a sudden unexpected surge of anger. He'd betrayed her all along… and she'd fallen for it. How could she have been so stupid to trust a Hollow? How could she have been so foolish to think…?
Her feet were moving before she realized she had even told them to. She was running haphazardly, as fast as she could away from them, into the shadows, not caring for any Hollows that rested within their depths. Let them try to attack her, she thought. Even without Ulquiorra…
Without him…
There was a sudden explosion behind her, and the hall was engulfed in a miasma of red and green light. She stopped, whirled to look. Ulquiorra and Grimmjow had drawn their zanpakouto, and stood, blades interlocked. Grimmjow had been in the way… they stood still in the moment, the silver of their swords gleaming. Ulquiorra's pulsed a faintly toxic green. Orihime's mind and heart raced at the sight of it, and she dashed away, turning down a corner…
He watched her run, found himself unable to stop her, asked himself how much she had heard, and how much she believed. Everything he had said was supposed to be true—it was what he had told himself time and time again. It had rung true in his own ears—and now that she had found him out, there was only one logical choice that he could make. He had to stop her, bring her back, imprison her…
So why wouldn't his feet move?
Someone has allowed the Gillian to roam the halls unchecked…
He leaped forward.
Someone pushed him back, aside, into the wall. The marble splintered beneath him, the stone bending and breaking against his skin. There was a bright bulb of red light near his heart.
He reacted before whoever it was could release the deadly energy. With a blast of his own green Cero, he deflected it, and saw the hall erupt in their combined powers. The dust blinded him, but he heard someone drawing a blade, and so drew his himself. Its argent length dripped with venomous light. He threw himself from the hole formed by his own impact, swung wide at his attacker. His blade met his opponent's in a flurry of golden sparks.
It was Grimmjow.
Ulquiorra pushed forward, trying to get him to move aside. In the distance he saw Orihime pause to stare at them, glance at his sword in fear. She turned and ran out of his line of sight, but he dared not call out for her.
"It's been a while since I seen you draw your sword," laughed Grimmjow. "Musta gotten you real mad, eh? Y'know, if the woman dies, wonder if Aizen'll make me number four, instead?" Ulquiorra glared hatefully at the sixth Espada, willing his blade to break the silver one beneath it. But he was running out of time—
Behind them, he heard Gin Ichimaru laugh delightedly. What a purely fascinating turn of events...
She ran hard, knowing that if she stopped they would catch her, and in the silence that lay before her, her cheeks had become wet with tears. They flowed down her cheeks silently, telling the tale her heart couldn't accept.
She had considered him a friend in this desolate, dreary place; she had trusted him, had enjoyed his company, and had told him about herself. She had found it a delightful challenge to find out more about him, too.
Had it all been a lie?
She possesses useful powers… but she is still human…
Why had she believed she could put her faith in him? Because he had saved her?
Because I am useful…
Orihime had been saved so many times—Ichigo had done it, because they were friends, because he cared about her. Had it been foolish of her to attribute Ulquiorra's actions to their 'friendship' as well? Why would he spar with her then? Why would he try to build her strength?
She turned another corner, wanting to lose herself within the labyrinth. It was so quiet; she could hear her own footsteps reverberate many times all around her. It sounded as if a great army followed in her wake. Her breath came in great gasps now. The corridors were monotonous—she hoped one of them would lead her to freedom.
All the days they had walked these halls together… on their way to the oasis. She found herself wondering if he were the only one who knew of its existence—or appreciated its beauty enough to visit it so often. Perhaps he had always known it was there, and only wanted to show her—because he knew she would say it was beautiful. Because it had been his plan all along…
She pressed on, until the corridors grew larger, and a gelid breeze wafted through her clothes and hair. By some miracle of fate, she had found the way out.
She stopped, and rested, leaned against a nearby wall and caught her breath. The great entrance lay open in front of her, the vast desert stretching to eternity. The dry, frigid night winds cut through her clothes, and she hugged herself to keep her arms warm; but she knew her friends waited outside, and the thought of them bolstered her resolve. The human girl rose, and walked outside. The sand dunes lay like frozen waves on a vast white sea. The desert winds howled, great gusts of sand erupting every once in a while, as if it were ocean spray.
Orihime ran, her eyes scanning the horizon. The cold wind, and the soft earth beneath her feet exhilarated her—she felt hopeful. No one had come after her—not Ichimaru, nor Ulquiorra. She could have thanked Grimmjow; he had granted her the time she needed to find a way to escape…
The redhead ran and rested in bursts, eventually having to give up her slippers—she was wearing socks underneath anyway. It was cold, and she often had to stop and warm her hands. She was tired, but knew that her only way was forward—she wouldn't go back, not now that she had made it out of the castle.
The great castle behind her began to diminish. Soon she began to see small creatures—Hollows living off of the supply of spirit energy in the air. Tiny lizards and insects crawling and flying about, each one with its own miniature mask. Orihime found herself laughing—she hadn't known that Hollows could be that small, or harmless for that matter…
There was movement in the sand next to her, as if some great creature that rested underneath the surface had shifted—she resumed her pace.
The movement followed her.
She stopped, shivering; and saw the sand beside her dimple, forming a miniature sinkhole. It was then that she realized how alone she was out here. She could be eaten by some great big beast, and no one would be able to find her.
She waited to see what the creature in the sand would do.
Suddenly, it began to move around her, in a perfect circle, with her in the middle. Orihime stared, transfixed, and then leapt aside, just as something serpentine and covered in bone erupted from the place she had just leaped from. The human girl yelled, quickly generating her shield as it flew down to strike her. Its maw was circular, lipless, and filled with serrated teeth, like those of a shark—it was this she had been standing in, she realized. It chewed savagely on the fiery barrier, attempting to break through—but the shield held. If she could just attack it, maybe it would go away.
Come on Tsubaki…
But he was silent. Orihime panicked as the creature relinquished its hold on the shield and dove into the sand again, swam just below the surface. She ran for her life, watching its horrid, worm-like body slither behind her. Suddenly it leapt, and just as she conjured her shield, a white blur rushed in front of the it. Instead of striking her barrier, the creature hit the ground twenty feet away, and writhed there. Then the blur fell from the sky, loosing blasts of green energy as it shot towards the earth. Orihime felt her stomach lurch.
As Ulquiorra hit the creature with blasts of Cero, Orihime let her shield fade, and then ran, knowing there was little chance now that he would fail to catch her.
She was right. The noise behind her swiftly ceased. She saw him beside her just as she ran over the top of the next dune. The sudden dip surprised her—she tripped and rolled down the mountain of sand, feeling dizzy as she got to her feet at the bottom. She quickened her pace angrily, knowing that he had saved her yet again…
She urged herself over the next dune, bedraggled and covered in sand and panting. Her muscles ached from all of the running, and the dry taste of sand in her mouth reminded her of how thirsty she was. It was so cold, she couldn't stop herself from trembling with every breath she took.
She gave up, allowed herself to lie there and rest on the side of the hill. The white sand beneath her could have been made of snow.
The redhead heard footsteps beside her, felt someone's arms lift her up.
"Orihime," she heard him say, his voice calm despite the fact that he had been searching for her for nearly three hours. A hot flash of anger surged through her—she tried to leap away, but his arms would not free her from his embrace. She was helpless, and wished someone—anyone—would be there to save her; but the desert was still, only the two of them underneath the starless sky. The moon sat lonely there, and looked down on them with a calculating eye.
But they were here somewhere—her friends, searching for her…
"Ichigo!" she called desperately, her voice echoing in the vast emptiness. "Ichigo! Help me!" To her astonishment, the Arrancar released her. She stumbled forward, so surprised that she whirled to face him. For the first time since she had seen him, he appeared stricken, his eyes wide, the pupils reduced to thin slits. She gazed at him, the feeling of guilt returning, unwanted. She had never told him about Ichigo, or her feelings towards the shinigami, but the fact was laid bare now. Orihime could see the truth dawning in his green eyes. They looked at one another for a long moment, the freezing desert breeze an invisible barrier between them.
Then she stepped backwards, away from him, and ran.
The desert plains stretched limitlessly before her, but she knew her friends would come soon, would find Las Noches and the path she took away from it. Her legs ached with the prolonged sprint, her throat burning with the cold air that tore through it. She told herself she should have been doing this to begin with, that her own cowardice had held her back. But in her heart, she knew it wasn't true.
It was him… he's the reason I never tried to escape…
His lie had held her prisoner.
Was Ulquiorra still standing there where she left him? Or had he returned by now, and given up? Orihime felt the urge to turn and look behind her, but as she glanced over her shoulder, she stumbled on a loose patch of sand, felt herself falling—
Someone behind her caught her; she felt hands strong and firm beneath her. For an instant she thought it was Ichigo, but the mess of black hair that tickled her cheek told her otherwise.
"Stay away from me!" she yelled, suddenly finding the energy to fight. Ulquiorra held her steady, his arms firm, but it only made her want to struggle more. She flailed and kicked him, tried to slap him, jumped off the ground and then let herself hang in his arms, all the while screaming and yelling. But she was cold, and tired, and in the end rested limp against him and sobbed.
The human girl felt herself being lowered to the ground as he knelt, turned her around gently, and held her close. She buried her face in his soft coat, shivering violently because she had been out in a thin kimono for such a long time. She hated him so much, because his body felt so warm to her now.
"You s-said you're only here to gain my t-trust," she said, her voice thick and quavering as she trembled against him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, hugging her to offer her what little warmth he had. She coughed weakly into his chest.
"W-why would you lie to me?" she asked him, her voice breaking. She gripped his surcoat, her own tears hot on her face, and tried once again to push free of him—to run away. But she hadn't found Ichigo; he hadn't come running when she called, and she was so very tired. Ulquiorra's arms were too strong…
She was going back, and there was nothing she could do about it.
The Espada didn't answer, but took his coat off and gently folded it around her. He watched her eyes widen in dismay—he wasn't wearing anything underneath.
Orihime opened her mouth to protest, but found that her voice wouldn't come. All the running and fighting had badly exhausted her, and she was so cold that she was just thankful for the jacket's added warmth. She felt herself being lifted from the frigid sand, cradled against his muscled chest. She looked beside her, his black tattoo standing out against the pallor of his skin—number four. And above it, the hole that showed him for what he was.
She reached up and traced its perimeter with a trembling finger; he looked at her in alarm.
The next few minutes were spent watching a confusion of different scenery followed by sudden, dizzying blurs of color and sound. Orihime tried to make sense of where she was, but found that her location was impossible to determine without feeling sick in the process. She thought she saw a grand castle in the distance—Las Noches—grow closer with each pause, but she was so disoriented that she dared not look at it, closed her eyes instead…
"Master?" the Hollow servant's wizened voice issued from the entrance of the small room—he had finished cleaning it hours ago, and had walked by just as Ulquiorra had entered the room, shirtless and carrying the human girl in his arms. He had done a double take just as his eyes fell on the two of them.
Musta been a wild night, he thought. But then, this was Ulquiorra—who didn't have wild nights. That was more to Grimmjow's tastes.
Something musta happened…
The old man watched as he laid her on the bed with utmost care. She was already wrapped in his coat, but he pulled the thick blankets over her as well. Then the Espada whirled like a cornered animal, his glinting green eyes narrowed, but strangely deep, as if he had taken some injury himself. The servant stepped away from him, unsure—Ulquiorra-sama had never acted that way before.
The girl on the bed slept quietly, her face a pallid gray.
"Master, you are due for a meeting—" the servant began, feeling obligated to remind him, since it was obvious he had forgotten himself. What had transpired that night was not his business, at any rate.
"Help her," the pallid Arrancar interrupted, his voice low and dangerous, and almost—painful. "Now." The wizened Hollow stared disbelievingly at him, and then at the girl. The tone in the Espada's voice had his curiosity piqued now, but he knew better than to ask questions when Ulquiorra was acting so unpredictable. Still, what did he expect the old one to do? The servant knew nothing of healing techniques, or human illnesses—Hollows just didn't get sick.
"Master, I'm not really an expert when it comes to—hey, hey!" Ulquiorra glided towards him, snatched him up by the scruff of his robes and dumped him bodily beside the futon. The old Hollow fell on his backside, yelling and cursing incoherently and glaring up at the Espada. "You can't just man-handle me like that—I coulda broke a hip!"
Ulquiorra bent down, gripped the old man's already wrinkled robes, and wrenched him to his feet. The small Arrancar swore loudly, rubbing his neck.
"What in the name of—"
"Tell me what is wrong with her," he ordered, his voice loud and demanding. The servant fell silent at the command, balking at the distraught expression on the Espada's face; and without further complaint on his part, the two of them peered over at the red-haired human. The old Hollow pressed a gnarled hand to her forehead. Ulquiorra watched him closely, as though he would attack if the old man did anything wrong. The smaller Arrancar kept glancing over at him nervously.
"I think she's got a fever," he muttered after a while, withdrawing his hand.
Ulquiorra's gaze shifted to study her pallid countenance closely, his pale face haggard in the moonlight. His normally confident, sleek form was hunched and weary; his powerful hands gripped feebly at his frayed pants. The old man looked at him for a long moment, dumbfounded.
In all the time he had spent working under Ulquiorra Schiffer, he had never seen anything quite like this.
"What should I do?" the Espada asked quietly, seemingly more to himself than to the old one.
"I'll tell ya what you're gonna do," interjected the grizzled man. "You're gonna go and put a shirt on, and attend your meeting like nothin' happened. Then you're gonna come back in here and make sure she stays safe." The Espada stared over at him, his eyes uncertain. Then, slowly, he nodded once.
"All right," he said, brushing off his wrinkled robes. "I'll take care of her until then. Now you really need to go!"
Ulquiorra did not leave at once. He leaned down, carefully smoothed a stray piece of red hair from the sleeping girl's face, hesitantly cupping his hand around her cheek. His eyes closed, his lips brushed hers gently, and then he straightened and left, leaving a dumbstruck old Arrancar in his wake…
ZOMG LONGEST CHAPPIE EVERRR! I hope you like it, because it took me forever to write it.
Le squee! Ebil Gin! :D I do love his character so much... but he may not be an evil little miscreant the entire story... we shall see. XP
I don't own Bleach.
I luffles my reviewers! Thankies!