The Challenge – Chap. 8
(Originally posted 1/18/11.)
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Orihime woke up in her own bed with a pounding headache and no memory of how she had gotten there. She was wearing only a light shift. There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," she called, lifting her head, and immediately regretted it. The room was spinning around her, and she was suddenly very nauseous. She needed to get to the bathroom right away. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, but could not get up, and had to slump over with her head in her hands.
Ulquiorra entered the room, and upon seeing her, inquired in his expressionless voice, "Woman, do you require assistance?"
"Could you— could you please help me get to the bathroom?" she asked in a weak voice.
He set down a glass of cloudy white liquid on the bedside table and put an arm around her, supporting her as she got up and stumbled to the bathroom. She fell to her knees in front of the toilet and was promptly sick.
After she finished retching, she realized that Ulquiorra was holding her hair back from her face. She gagged again on the bitterness in her mouth, and then muttered, "Thank you." She bent over the toilet, leaning on the seat, too weak to get up off her knees, her head pounding.
She heard the water running and a few moments later Ulquiorra was wiping her face with a warm washcloth. "Thank you," she said again. Her voice sounded rough; her throat was sore from the vomiting. He left the room and returned, putting a glass to her lips.
"Drink this," he ordered.
"What— what is it?" she asked, suspicious.
"It is medicine to make you feel better. Now drink."
Obediently, she took the glass and drank the liquid. After a few sips, she could already feel her stomach calming. She finished the glass and leaned against the wall of the bathroom, still too dizzy to get up; her head felt like it was clamped in a vise. She was shivering, chills running through her body, and she had broken out in a cold sweat. Ulquiorra came back with a soft towel, which he wiped around her forehead and neck, drying off some of the sweat. Then he helped her back up and into her bed. He had piled several pillows at the head so that she could sit propped up.
As she relaxed into the pillows, feeling a little better, she said again, "Thank you very much, Ulquiorra. I really appreciate your help."
He glanced at her, deadpan. "There is no need to thank me. Aizen-sama ordered me to see to your well-being."
At the sound of Aizen's name, Orihime's heart squeezed again, and she remembered the previous night. A feeling of mingled excitement and horror came over her, and her nausea returned in full force. "I think I'm sick, Ulquiorra."
He straightened and gave her a dispassionate look. "You are merely suffering the after-effects of what happens to humans when they consume an abundance of ethyl alcohol. It will pass shortly."
"What?"
"Ethyl alcohol is poisonous to humans. Why you creatures continue to willingly take poison never ceases to amaze me."
"Poison?" Slowly, more memory of the previous night was returning to her. "The champagne punch." Her voice was flat. "He said it was mostly ginger ale."
"How many glasses did you drink?"
"Ohhh," Orihime put a hand to her head. "I don't even remember. He kept refilling my glass."
Ulquiorra's lips tightened. "If you are going to spend time in Aizen-sama's company, it would be better for you to keep your wits about you when he starts playing games."
"Games?" said Orihime faintly.
"You should know Aizen-sama well enough by now to know what he finds entertaining."
Orihime looked at him with sudden attention. "He can't have told you to say that to me."
Ulquiorra's tone was neutral. "You will last longer if you fully understand the situation. Aizen-sama is inordinately powerful. Not just his reiatsu, but also his personality. He crushes those of lesser strength beneath him. Carelessly."
Orihime shivered. "It almost sounds like you're warning me against him."
"I am only telling you this because you give Aizen-sama pleasure, and if he destroys you too soon, that pleasure will stop. He gave me orders to see to your health and comfort, and I am following those orders."
"But you're saying things to me he didn't ask you to." She fiddled with a loose thread on her nightdress.
"Aizen-sama allows me considerable latitude in determining how I carry out his orders." Ulquiorra moved to the end table and picked up the empty glass. "I can see that he is not treating you the way he treats most of his lovers. For this reason, I can determine that he wishes you to survive. My job, then, is to help you to follow Aizen-sama's wishes."
Her gaze swung to him. "… Most of his lovers?" she said in a small voice.
"Yes. He should have lost interest in you by now. Usually, his attraction does not last long. And when he loses interest in a lover, he often disposes of them."
Orihime swallowed, tried to keep her voice calm. "And you say he's treating me differently?"
Ulquiorra's brilliant green gaze was steady. "If he thinks a lover might be useful to him, he will keep them around as his subordinate afterward."
"You think," Orihime whispered, "he believes I may be... useful?"
"Otherwise he would not order me to take care of you. In any event, it does not matter what you think. You belong to him now and the purpose of your life is to serve him. In order to do that efficiently, you must become stronger."
"What do you mean?" Her voice was still faint.
Ulquiorra's gaze was penetrating. "In Las Noches, only the strong survive. I have seen that you are strong. But you must become stronger. In order to do that, you must cease choosing your actions based on emotional concerns."
Orihime stood and glanced the window at the crescent moon hanging in the night sky. "No. You're wrong about that." She carefully did not look at Ulquiorra. "Emotional concerns, caring for other people – those are the only reasons to choose one's actions. And in the end, those who have those concerns are stronger than those who don't. I know you don't believe that. Maybe Aizen-sama doesn't believe that. But you both had human souls once. You had a heart."
"I told you, woman, I do not even know what this 'heart' is that you keep talking about."
"You don't need to know what it is to feel its effects," said Orihime softly. "Aizen-sama has said he cares for me."
Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed. "Of course, if Aizen-sama has said it, then it must be the truth." Orihime wondered if she heard a hint of mockery in the expressionless tone. He walked to the door. "I suggest you rest for the remainder of the day. Aizen-sama will want to see you again tonight, and you must be in good physical condition by then." His voice was cold. "Do you understand, woman?"
Orihime nodded. "Yes, sir," she said, her eyes downcast.
After Ulquiorra had left the room, Orihime swung her legs out of bed. If she continued to lie down, she would fall asleep, and she needed to be awake. To think. To figure out what to do next. She had been reacting without thinking and that needed to change. The medication he had given her was taking effect. The nausea and dizziness had receded, and the headache had quieted to a dull throbbing.
She went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and take a shower, to try to get the foul taste out of her mouth and off her skin. She would think more clearly if she was clean. And one part of what Ulquiorra said was true. She needed to be strong, to call on her inner strength to help her survive. She had survived being at the mercy of powerful, callous people before. She carefully turned her mind away from the memory of her parents. There was no Sora to rescue her now. Now it was time to think things through lucidly, to take action based on her decisions, and to stop acting like a helpless prisoner.
She attempted to consider the facts neutrally. She had slept with Aizen, had given herself to him. She had done it to help her friends, and, she admitted to herself, because she was attracted to him. Her cheeks burned with guilt at the memory of the intensity of her physical pleasure, but she reminded herself that emotional self-recriminations would not help here in Las Noches. She would have to put those aside. Yes, she admitted, she enjoyed being with him despite what he was.
Now, if she wanted to continue to keep her friends – and herself – alive, she had to make sure Aizen continued to deem her useful. She had to understand him for what he was, and try to separate lies from truth. And she would have to accept her own situation. Her life as she had known it was over. Her love for Ichigo must now be channeled into the effort to protect him. She could no longer think of such selfish thoughts as the possibility of being with him. She must think only of others and not of herself.
Finishing in the bathroom, she dressed herself carefully in her Arrancar uniform and sat quietly on her bed. Anyone looking at the video surveillance would see only a quiet, distressed prisoner. But inside, her mind continued to race.
She had come here to protect her friends. But now they had decided to put themselves in more danger to rescue her. She didn't know how much of what Aizen had told her was a lie. But if her friends believed that she had thrown her lot in with Aizen, perhaps they would stop trying to rescue her. Perhaps she could convince Aizen to let them go in return for her loyalty. Her fists clenched, unseen beneath her robes. She would do what had to be done. She would protect them.
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Aizen stood at the window of his private chamber above the central throne room, gazing out at the unchanging night sky. The scene never failed to soothe him with its austere beauty, the reversed crescent moon surrounded by a blaze of stars, unmarred by a single cloud. It was pure and clean, free of the distracting messiness of weather in the human world.
He sensed the approaching reiatsu but did not turn. Why bother dignifying the other with an acknowledgment of his presence?
"Aizen-sama," came the mocking drawl of his second-in-command.
"Gin." He continued to gaze out the window.
"Is that girl pleasin' ya?" asked the other. When Aizen turned to regard him, Gin's face was even blanker than usual, eyes slitted shut, the unalterable grin at its normal width.
"That should not matter to you, Gin," he said quietly, watching his subordinate's face closely.
There was a slight flicker across Gin's visage. "I want ya ta be pleased, Aizen-sama. I could help ya with her there."
"Indeed," said Aizen. He narrowed his eyes. "What is your report on the human and shinigami incursion?"
Gin's smile faltered minutely for a moment. "Aw, too bad. I thought we could have some fun with that girl."
"I told you, no, Gin." There was a faint undercurrent of menace in the soft voice.
Gin sighed. "Very well, Aizen-sama. Rukia Kuchiki is now fightin' Aaroniero. Looks like he's stompin' her. I can route the video wherever ya like."
Aizen faced the window again. "Good. Route it to my quarters. I'll be there for the rest of the afternoon."
Behind him, Gin bowed. "At once, Aizen-sama." Where Aizen could not see, the silver-haired shinigami permitted a half-mocking, half-angry expression to reach his face. Then he swept silently out of the room.
After he left, Aizen allowed his lips to curl in a faint smirk.
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Gin walked down the hall, his mind working rapidly. Aizen had, in the past, never minded talking about his playthings with Gin. The fact that he wouldn't talk with him about the girl was a very bad sign. He knew Aizen thought himself above human emotions. But he knew, all too well, that Aizen did develop emotions about certain individuals; he became fascinated with certain of his toys and then chose to keep them around. Aizen understood human motivations with extraordinary clarity – except when it came to his own.
In Soul Society, he had been much more discreet about acting on his whims. Here in Hueco Mundo, secure in his power, he had been open about taking whatever he wanted. The drawback to him, of course, was that his motivations had become more visible. Of course, this was an advantage to Gin.
Gin smiled to himself. Aizen had become interested in the girl. That meant that she could become a power player in the Las Noches hierarchy. She could even acquire some momentary importance in the shifting sands of politics in Aizen's court. In that event, using her could have value.
Or, he thought to himself with amusement, she could be removed from play. Of course, it would have to be done in such a way that Aizen would not suspect who performed the removal.
Either way, it looked like it was time for him to make the girl's acquaintance.
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The two Arrancar walked rapidly down one of the endless white halls of Las Noches. Menoly's face creased with a nervous frown. "But why would he want to see us?"
Loly shrugged. "Who the hell cares?" She scowled at her friend.
They came to a large set of double doors and hesitated. Loly raised her hand to knock, only to hear a voice from within before she had touched the door. "Come in."
Menoly shot a nervous glance at her black-haired companion, who shrugged again and squared her shoulders, displaying a belligerent attitude to hide her unease. Then Loly sashayed into the room, followed by Menoly. "You asked to see us, Ichimaru-sama?"
The silver-haired shinigami sat in a tall chair in semi-darkness. Loly could just barely see his slitted eyes, the ever-present smile she still found creepy. He waited in silence.
After a while, Menoly knelt, and tugged at Loly until she sank to the floor beside her.
Ichimaru's smile widened. "That's better." He waved a hand, the bell sleeve sliding back and exposing his thin wrist. "You may rise." His accent was much less pronounced than when he had spoken with Aizen previously.
"Why did you wish to see us, sir?" asked Menoly, keeping her eyes on the floor.
Ichimaru paused again. "I think…" he murmured, as if to himself, "that if you go to the central video control room tomorrow at 1400 hours, without letting anybody see you, that you will find… something interesting." He glanced up at Loly, and opened his eyes, staring directly at her with that unnerving blue-green gaze. "Something potentially rewarding… for you."
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Orihime had made her bed and was finishing her lunch. The food helped to settle her queasy stomach, but she still felt weak and sick. She leaned heavily on the table, head in her hands, as she slowly took each bite.
The door to her room opened without a knock. A tall, thin man with fine silver hair and slitted eyes stood at the threshold.
"Yare, yare," said the man softly. "Ya don't seem to be feelin' too well, Orihime-chan." He smiled.
Orihime stared, trying to place him. Then it came back to her. Ichimaru Gin, one of the traitor captains who had betrayed Soul Society alongside Aizen. She stood up, a bit shaky still, and bowed her head. "Ichimaru-sama."
"Aw, ya don' need to be so formal with me, Orihime-chan." There was a mocking undertone in his voice. Orihime sucked in her breath, warning herself to pay close attention to whatever lay behind his words. She needed to understand his motivations. This was the man Rukia had compared to a snake. She needed to be careful around him.
"Why have you come to see me, Ichimaru-sama?" she asked politely.
"Aw, I knew ya were visitin' us, but I jus' haven't had a chance to talk with ya yet," he drawled, smiling, as he pulled out a chair and seated himself across from her at the table. "I'm jus' hopin' to get ta know ya better, Orihime-chan."
She stared at him. What was his game? He was the second-in-command here in Las Noches. Why would he be visiting a prisoner? Had Aizen sent him here?
She brought up her game face and smiled in return. "It would be nice to know you better, Ichimaru-sama."
She did not see any change in his expression, but she sensed faint approval in his reiatsu. "Now that's jus' great, Orihime-chan." He hitched his chair closer. "Ya see, the way I see it, we should stick together."
"Stick together, Ichimaru-sama?" Orihime repeated politely. "What do you mean?"
He cocked his head to one side. "Welll, we're all here at Aizen-sama's mercy. We need ta help each other ta make sure none of us gets on his bad side, ya know?"
She stared. "Ichimaru-sama, I don't understand."
He said softly, "Oh, I think ya do." He leaned forward and whispered, "It's so easy for him ta kill anyone. All he has ta do is raise his reiatsu until ya can't breathe, your heart can't pump. He's so strong, that we're all like ants ta him. He has ta keep himself from crushin' us. So we all gotta stick together, tell each other the important stuff so's we can protect ourselves from Aizen-sama."
Orihime shivered. "Why are you telling me this, Ichimaru-sama?"
Ichimaru leaned back, his grin widening. "Aw, I'm jus' tryin' to help out a friend." He stood up. "Bye-bye, Orihime-chan." With that, he swept out of the room, leaving Orihime staring after him with a puzzled look on her face.