A/N: Hey everyone! Good news: my finger isn't broken X) I lost my fingernails, and that's about it. Thanks for everyone's well-wishing and reviews! I am really excited for these next couple of chapters and hope you all enjoy it :D

Nihilism

Orihime sprinted back home, not caring when old cuts on her feet reopened, not caring when her face was whipped by a branch, not caring when she was punched in the stomach by a broken bough. Only one thing pulsed through her veins, replacing blood.

Betrayal.

She didn't know why she cared as much as she did; she had known him for only a season, maybe two. Only half a year at the very most. The air that had been crisp when she first met him now turned to needles in her lungs with the frigidity of it. Winter was fast approaching… worry tugged at her mind for the man, Ulquiorra, for what if he froze to death, or became ill from the cold? His house was not sturdy, not warm, what if….?

She shook off the feeling hysterically. A brigand. He was a brigand. A high ranking thief, a murderer whose hands were likely stained black with blood. Why, why, why did it have to be such? She had been happier in her ignorance, for now she felt pain deep in her chest that had nothing to do with her pounding heart as she fought her way through a thicket of brambles.

She would have felt tears coursing down her cheeks, if she had been able to cry, but nothing escaped her maimed eyes, only a sob slipping between her lips and winging its way into the sky like a carrier pigeon to signal her distress.

She couldn't understand this, she didn't want to. She wanted to run until her feet were bleeding stumps, until her heart gave out, until lungs burst. She wanted to cry into Sora's shoulder, she wanted to feel the love of family again, she wanted to return to being a child. It did not matter what she wanted, though, for none of these things could be so. It had never mattered what she wanted.

She fell onto the path at the edge of the trees, more sobs coming deep from within her aching chest as she rested for a moment on all fours.

"Orihime?" the panicked voice belonged to Tatsuki, and echoing her cry came Chizuru's fearful tones.

The red head stumbled upright, barefoot and bleeding, crying without tears, hurting without pain, holding herself up with a low branch. She began to run in the other direction, but her wrist was caught by slender fingers that she recognized as Tatsuki's. She felt the scar on her friend's middle finger from when they had been climbing trees.

"What's wrong?" the brunette cried, "What happened? Hime!"

She fell to her knees, taking Tatsuki with her, and for a long time, Orihime could do nothing but pant, shiver, and swallow back more sobs, any words she tried to release coming out incoherently, or unintelligibly. Finally she spoke.

"He's one of them! Ulquiorra… he's one of them!" she choked on another sob, gripping Tatsuki's arm as if her life depended on it while Chizuru stroked her red tresses comfortingly, for once her perversion being the farthest thing from her mind.

"'One of them'?" the pink haired girl repeated questioningly.

"He's a brigand. I went to his house, and there were five others there. They started talking about the old days… two of them called him Ulquiorra-sama and it seems everyone in his home was a lower rank then he was!"

"A brigand?" Chizuru shrieked.

"What did they say," Tatsuki murmured, "What were they talking about, specifically?"

Damn it all, she knew she should have kept a better watch on Orihime! Left her with Ichigo, or someone else…

Orihime swallowed, "They talked about how their leaders died, how… how he left," no one had to ask to know that by 'he' she meant Ulquiorra, the mystery man that only she had met as of yet, "and how their group split apart."

"This 'Ulquiorra' left, you said?" Tatsuki queried. Orihime nodded. "Then perhaps you judge him too harshly."

"He is the same as them!" Orihime screamed, "He's the same as the ones who killed Sora, the ones who took my sight and-"

Slap.

Orihime looked startled, holding her burning cheek as Tatsuki lowered her hand, shaking with anger.

"You said he had no friends; obviously he did not enjoy being in the company of those who he worked with! You said he had a sad face; perhaps regret ties him down! You said that he lives far from other people; perhaps he fears himself, perhaps his guilt makes it difficult for him to be around others, perhaps he does not like remembering what he has done!"

"B-but…"

"You said that he was kind to you! Would a lying, murdering, stealing, rapist take you into his home, feed you, allow you to sleep there and let you go on your way unharmed? You don't know his reasons for what he did. There are many reasons why one will steal and kill. You called him a friend. Do you really put so little faith in those you call comrades? Your judgment upon him was too swift, Hime."

Through Tatsuki said what she did, she still did not like the fact that this 'Ulquiorra' had been a thief. Orihime had been happier than she had been in a long time when she had met him… but his previous occupation changed things.

Orihime's silver eyes cast down upon the stones at her feet, gazing without seeing, and her hands gathered into fists as she clenched the cloth on her lap.

"I… I will return to see him. After I calm down a bit, I will go back," she swallowed hard, "I'll ask him for myself."

A week later, her missing sandals turned up on her doorstep.

She did not return for many days.

…..

Ulquiorra surveyed his now empty home from the outside as he rested against a tree, shamisen across his knees. The rest of the Espada, true to their word, had left after acquiring the swords they had needed for Ggio, Tesla, and Nel, with unfortunate promises of future visits.

Nel had apologized profusely for what had happened with the woman, though he did not understand why. The woman had fled his home. That was how it should be, for humans and demons did not mix, and for good reason. It had been nearly three weeks since she had last come, and the weather had grown frigid, the sky an opaque pearl gray, threatening snow. The sky reminded him of the reflections in the woman's empty gaze.

For a reason that he could not put his finger on, however, no matter how many times he cast his thoughts about, he had been more ill tempered of late. It had taken all of his vast self control, as a matter of fact, to keep himself from killing that fool papermaker Kobayashi, despite the fact that stabbing such trash would soil his blade.

When she had first left, a guilty sort of relief had settled into his chest; her leaving meant that he didn't have to tell her to leave and never return. He didn't have to look at her and tell her to go and forget him, to live her normal, human life, out of his reach. But behind that relief lay a dull throbbing ache that even now twinged at the thought of her.

He didn't understand. He simply didn't understand! How had a blind, unarmed, weak, human woman like her caused him pain? He shook his head and returned to his music.

Lids falling lower over his eyes, Ulquiorra absent mindedly plucked at the strings of his shamisen, the black caps on his fingers running cords without instruction. Eventually, the melody that he customarily played began to take shape upon the air without his notice as he slumped against the base of the plum tree outside his house, his breath drifting on the icy air. It was cold.

As was he.

…..

Orihime stepped outside and instantly felt the bite of the icy wind as it whipped her hair against her face. She took a deep breath, steeling herself as she stepped forward, off the path, and into the now withered forest, the dead undergrowth and crumpled leaves crunching beneath her feet.

Her fingers danced over the frosted twigs of a fir tree, and for a moment she remembered the touch of Ulquiorra's hand on her own. She shook off the thought fiercely, and continued her trek, feeling for familiar formations, as it was too cold for her to feel out the path with bare feet. She chewed her lip the whole time she walked, nervous not only as to how Ulquiorra would react to seeing her after her dramatic exit, but also as to how she would react to him.

She suddenly encountered unexpected resistance at her ankles as she entered the slightly depressed hollow where his house was situated, as she passed the tree that stood before the door. She went sprawling, throwing her hands out in front of her. Rather than falling onto hard ground, however, she fell against something soft and heard a melodic clink-clink-twang. Pushing herself upright, she felt around for what she had tripped on and found a cold hand with metal caps on the fingertips. Only shamisen players wore such caps, and if there was a shamisen, that would explain the metallic twanging she had heard as she fell.

"Um… Ulquiorra?"

"Get off me, woman," came the curt reply, a waspish sting in his tone.

"Ah! I'm sorry! I didn't realize you were sitting here, and I…" she fell silent as he pulled his fingers out of her grip and walked away while she still spoke. Orihime felt mingled regret, anger, and sorrow well up within her as she realized that Ulquiorra was probably furious.

She stepped her way slowly to the entrance and pushed aside the undulating cloth with her hand, removing her shoes as she slipped inside. She heard nothing. Perhaps he had gone through the back door to escape her? That would be childish… but she could be childish too, and she would wait him out if that were the case. Her feet made rustling sounds as they passed over the bamboo mats; she found a cushion and sat, feet beneath her, a pout solidly on her face.

A breath tickled her ear, causing her to shiver in surprise.

"I'm glad you feel that you can make yourself… at home," Ulquiorra noted icily, "after such accusations. Are you sure you want to be alone in the middle of the woods with a thief and a murderer?"

He could not have put it into words, but for some reason he was angry- hurt. It shouldn't have mattered what she called him, but it had… it still did.

"I came to ask you why," Orihime said after a short silence.

"Explain."

"I want to know why you became a brigand. Did you need money for something? Were you forced into it? Were you threatened or hurt?" the girl quested for answers while keeping her silvered eyes locked on her lap.

"My reasons are simple enough. I was saved," he said tersely.

"Explain," Orihime mimicked. Ulquiorra tensed with annoyance that spilled over the border of his anger.

"Aizen-sama saved my life…. I was in his debt. I have no other reason than this." He intoned flatly.

"Aizen… he was the leader of the… group, right?"

"He was," Ulquiorra crossed the room and sat against the far wall, distancing himself from the unpredictable, emotion driven, human girl.

"Tell me how he saved you," Orihime demanded, and after a long pause she added, "please?"

There was a soft sigh, almost like the last breath of a man who has held out against some plague until death, before Ulquiorra spoke.

"I have always, always been alone," he began in a murmur, "I never had parents. I don't even know if I was brought to life by some other being… I simply was. If I had siblings, I knew nothing of them. I had no caretakers or friends, no lovers or even acquaintances. Where I lived, there was silence unto eternity. I could not speak. I heard nothing, said nothing, did nothing… only saw. Where I was, it was eternally white. There was…. Nothing. Nothing at all. I found beauty in the nihilism."

Orihime shuddered, thinking about his description. For her, without sight, sound and feel were everything. A place without sound would be hell.

"Of course, although it was beautiful, methodic… peaceful… I could not stay. I was driven out by others who came after, others who were different than I." He halted, as if gather his thoughts, before continuing. "I knew little about this world."

Orihime did not miss how he said 'this world', as if prior to, he had lived in some other plane of existence. He had made similar comments before, referring to 'not understanding humans' as if he weren't one himself. She brushed it off for now. What she was hearing was too important.