Cool breeze. Hair ruffling. Rough dirt under skull. A twitch of a finger, flutter of an eyelid.

His eyes opened.

All he could see at first was a sky. It was pure blue, white clouds floating serenely across light azure. Something within him stirred at the color, and the memory of a maniacal laugh vibrated through his chest. His eyes blinked, thick eyebrows drew together.

Slowly he raised himself up on his elbows, taking in his surroundings. He was in an empty marketplace, lying in the dirt in the middle of the clearing. Around him were clean, bare stalls, looking like they had been put up quite recently. Despite this, however, the market was completely empty. He looked down at himself. He had pale, pale skin, and he was rather skinny, though muscular. His nails - both on his hands and feet - were dark as the hair he could see in his peripheral vision, which he assumed was on the long side. An odd scar, about 4-5 inches in diameter and perfectly circular, rested in the middle of his chest. Strangely, he had a spiky 4 tattoo over his heart, which stirred something else within him, something else that he couldn't quite place. Lastly, he observed that he was completely naked, and looked around for something to cover himself with.

In the corner lay a burlap sack. He stood unsteadily, using his hands to support himself until the last second. Standing with his feet apart, he swayed, his vision blacking briefly as his level changed. Then he hobbled over to the sack, grabbing the tent and crouching to grab it. He ripped a seam at the top and two at the sides with his bare fingers, observing his muscles flex slightly, before sliding the sack over his head and tying the tunic with a piece of rope. The hem reached his knees, and he felt covered enough for the moment, allowing himself to think.

Who was he?

How had he gotten here?

He racked his brains. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember anything from before the soft breeze ruffling his face and hair. It wasn't like there was an empty space there, something that had been full before but was now cleared. It just felt like his memory capacity only had space for the last four minutes.

"Hey!"

He turned, somewhat unsteadily, and saw a little boy running toward him, maybe about six or seven years old. Behind him was his mother – or a woman he assumed was his mother – who looked to be in her mid-twenties or so. She followed her son at a safe distance, looking worried as she gazed at him, standing there in his burlap sack.

The little boy ran right up to him, putting dark brown arms on his hips. "What are you doing here? We won first pick, get outta here!"

"Josef, he's okay," the mother said. "Still," she said, looking at him, "Josef has a point. May I ask you what you're doing here?"

"If I knew, I assure you, I would tell you." His voice was froggy with disuse. His cleared his throat and spread his hands before him, indicating that he had nothing to hide. "I woke up just there a moment ago, and I seem to have amnesia which I hope is temporary."

The woman's worried look increased, but now he sensed sympathy. She ran a hand over her head. Her dark hair was cut close to her skull. Sighing, she closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sky.

"Josef, I think we are going to have to wait on picking the tent," she said. "We should get this man to the doctor."

The doctor was useless. He was tapped, peered at, poked, prodded. But no one could figure out how he had woken up in the field. They didn't think he'd been attacked, since except for the circular scar on his chest, he was completely devoid of injury. The doctor recommended that he stay with Josef and his mother, Fiona, for a while in hopes that he would soon recover.

The two of them agreed and took him back to their small hut where they lived. On the way back, Josef dubbed him first as "Hector-kun" and then "Emo-kun" when they arrived and he had yet to show an emotion. He didn't like either of them, to be honest. Emo-kun was obviously just a nickname, but Hector didn't sit right with him either.

It didn't matter. Hopefully he would be regaining his memories soon, and then he would know his true name again.

For now, he would settle with these two. But it soon became clear that there wouldn't be much settling. A mere four days later was to be the biggest festival of their area. And they had to prepare for it.

Hector was confused, but Fiona promised to explain everything to him later, while they worked. From the hut they walked back to the tented clearing, quickly selecting a large tent and unloading a small wagon they'd brought with them, setting up grills and cooking ware on the table that was placed inside the tent. Hector tried to help, but his fine motor skills were not completely back yet, and he ended up being more of a hindrance than aid.

"Ay! Josef-kun!"

The dark skinned boy looked up, his face breaking into a grin. "Kirito-kun!" he called. Hector turned to see a dark haired boy running toward Josef, feet slapping unafraid against the ground. He stopped before his friend, and the two boys went into an elaborate handshake that Hector couldn't follow. A man followed close behind Kirito-kun, and he went over to talk to Fiona. Slowly more and more people began to trickle into the clearing and claiming tents. Hector sat on an overturned crate next to his tent, watching the people…and wondering.

Over the next few days he got a better idea of where he was. The Soul Society was like a big ring, with districts coming out from one central hub, the Seireitei. They were in the twenty-fifth ring out, in the middle-class area. Fiona explained that he was lucky to end up here instead of out in the fortieth, fiftieth, or even sixtieth district. The father you got out, the worse it got. The people, that is. Their mannerisms, their lifestyle, their…humanity.

She didn't dwell on that, and Hector didn't ask further. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Otherwise, it was a very busy time. Many of the older men spent their time at the large pond about a mile west of the clearing, fly fishing for koi. Hector joined them. Soon he had perfected the art of tying the tiny, colorful fly to the line and jerking it quickly over the surface of the water, luring the little fish to the surface for what they thought would be a tasty treat. Then they would bag the koi in plastic bags and prepare them for prizes for the festival.

At night, Hector would join the children and teenagers of the town in the community hall, taking masks and decorating them for the visitors of the festival. They painted bold strips of color on black and white animal faces, adding feathers and sparkly mica chips. Kirito-kun's family's tent was right at the entrance to the festival, and they would be handing them out to the entering visitors.

On the morning of the festival, Hector woke early, before anyone else had risen. He dressed quickly and silently, and slipped through the front door of the hut. Walking quietly down to the lake, he sat down in the dewy grass, leaning back on his hands, and stared out across the still water.

It was only his fourth day here, but he had no memory of his life before, and to him the four days felt like an entire lifetime. He looked down at the grass, picking one single green blade and folding it longwise. When he put it in his mouth and blew, a high-pitched noise issued from it. He sighed a dropped the grass, his eyes returning to the lake before him.

He wondered if somewhere, out there, someone was missing him. Then his great green eyes slid shut.

He wasn't kidding anyone. No one was looking for him. He might as well give up on finding his old life.

"Ne, Emo-kun there sure are a lot of people here!"

Josef was sitting next to Hector on a crate in their tent. His mother had asked him to work for just an hour before he would be allowed to go and play. He only had about twenty minutes left of his shift, and the boy was bouncing excitedly in his seat as he watched all the people walking past.

Hector watched as well, agreeing distantly with the dark boy beside him. Men and women wearing both traditional dress and rough tunics were spilling into the festival. He could see a lot of people that looked like they came from wealth, which surprised him as he wasn't expecting it. He himself was dressed in a cotton tunic, dark blue with lighter blue trim and leaves of the same shade blustering about his waist. The neckline was a low V that revealed his circular scar and the point of the strange 4 tattoo.

Light was fading fast and as he watched, the bright, colorful lights and lanterns that were strung from lines across the tents began to light up. Slowly the blue sky melted away and was replaced by brilliant orange and pink hues as the sun lit up the clouds from behind.

At last Josef sprung from his seat, and after a gesture from Fiona, Hector followed. Josef went straight for the ring toss, Hector close behind. The back wall was covered with fluffy animals someone had gotten from a higher district, and there was a single wooden pole sticking straight out from the mess.

A teenager he recognized from the village as Rin was standing at the booth, and he grinned at them. "Hey, Josef-kun, Hector-kun. Would you like to have a go?"

"Yeah!" Josef exclaimed. He took the plastic ring from Rin's hand and then looked at him. "Do I just…"

"Yeah," Rin said. "Try to get the ring around the post."

Josef looked at the ring, looked at the post, and stuck out his tongue. He narrowed his eyes and threw the ring at the post.

It missed by a mile.

"It's all right, old chap," Rin says. He hands Josef another ring. "Wanna have another go?"

But Josef didn't make it that time either. Or the next time, or the next time. Finally, frustrated, he handed a ring to Hector. "It's rigged!" he complained, but Hector barely heard him. He held the ring in his hand, getting a feel for it. His eyes looked at the post. Observed it, the angle at which it stuck out from the wall, the motion it would take his arm to land squarely on the post itself.

Everything went quiet in his mind as he took aim and let fly. He blinked. The ring was hanging from the post like it belonged there.

Josef sputtered. "That was a fluke!" he wailed.

"Let me try again?" Hector asked Rin, who nodded graciously, though Hector could see that he was surprised as well. He passed Hector another ring, and he took aim once more, the world going quiet as he threw the wooden circle.

It slid in next to the first one.

Josef's jaw fell. Hector held out another hand, and Rin hastened to fill it. This throw made it, and so did the next one. Josef wandered away after a while, but Hector kept throwing the rings until Rin was out.

"You are really…good at that," Rin said, awe in his voice. Hector hadn't missed once.

"Thank you," Hector said stiffly. He turned to go, but Rin stopped him.

"Wait! You need to get your prize!" he exclaimed, and the next thing Hector knew, his face was full of stuffed animal. He grunted and attempted to rearrange them so that he could see. Glaring at Rin, he staggered across the clearing, where Josef was waving a koi prize in the face of his mother and two other young women.

"Josef-san. What do I do with all this?" Hector asked, trying to balance all the animals in his arms. One tumbled to the ground, but he barely noticed. Because standing in front of him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

She had hair that was as blazing bright as the sunset above them, tied back in braids and pinned with two blue flower clips. Her eyes were wide, so wide, and as beautiful as molten silver. Her face was glowing, blushing, blossoming, an Amaterasu mask perched on the crown of her forehead. Her body was framed by a simple, yet lovely green dress that went with her hair fabulously. Her two pink lips –so perfectly shaped –formed an 'o' as she gazed at him. They made eye contact for just a second, though it seemed to stretch on forever.

Fiona let out a small 'oh' and took several of the stuffed animals out of his hands, though he barely noticed. "Hector-san, how did you get all of these?" she said in a motherly tone. Hector snapped back to Earth, hearing her address him.

"I won them…actually," he mumbled. Finally he broke eye contact with that beautiful girl, staring at the ground. "It seems like I have an innate accuracy."

He glanced back up at her from underneath, his eyes uncertain. Her lips formed four syllables, almost silently, but he heard it.

"Ul…quiorra?"

Then, louder. "Ulquiorra? Ulquiorra!"

The stuffed animals were knocked from his arms as she threw her arms around his neck. He instantly stiffened, surprised at her unexpected affection, as she began to cry loudly into his blue yukata.

"Oh…I missed you," she sobbed. "But I found you, I finally…finally…found you."

He began to turn his head, to look at Fiona and Josef, and gage their reactions, but then he caught her scent.

The smell of pine trees and early morning waterfalls and viridian and hibiscus.

And then Ulquiorra's arms wrapped around Orihime so tightly. Everything came back – Aizen and the Espada, Kurosaki Ichigo, Grimmjow and Tia, Anónimo, Emiko and Daisuke – and Orihime Inoue, his lover, in his arms once more, where she belonged.

"Orihime," he murmured, and she looked at him, her face wet and shining. And he leaned down, under those lanterns and the surprised faces of everyone nearby, and pressed his lips to hers, closing his eyes with the sweetness and loneliness he tasted there.

Finally, he was home.

They wandered together down to the lake, sitting side by side in the grass. They didn't talk much, content to just be touching, just to be next to each other after so long.

Five months, she said. That's how long she had been looking. Ulquiorra acknowledged this with little surprise. His internal organs could, after all, regenerate, just not at a super-fast speed. When Orihime had pierced him with the zanpakuto, his being had come to Soul Society to reform.

Personally, he didn't much care, as long as he was with her.

She explained the outcome of the war. Grimmjow, she said, had not been seen since his fight with Ichigo. Neither had Nel. Tia was the only Espada she knew of that had survived. In defeating Aizen, Kurosaki had lost his powers, and as a consequence, was in a comatose state like sleep, which everyone was confident he would emerge from sooner rather than later.

Personally, he didn't much care, as long as he was with her.

He silenced her with a kiss. How he'd missed her. Not even knowing what you're missing is worse than knowing, because you are filled with an ache that cannot possibly be filled unless you stumble on it by accident, which he had.

He knew he would count his blessings every day that he had.

But he wasn't thinking about the future. He was thinking about the now, the now with Orihime. Away from Aizen, away from Grimmjow and Nnoitra and all the other crazy fools at Las Noches. They were under the real, starry sky, free at last.

She squeezed his hand, and he looked at her. She smiled at him, and he allowed the corners of his mouth to slide up gently in turn.

When he thought about it, it wasn't just her cheeks. It wasn't only her hair, not simply her eyes, nor even solely her lips. It was all of her, piece by piece, put together to make this fantastic creature before him.

And he'd be damned if he let his Onna slip through his fingers again.

Author's Note: WOW. Finally we made it to the end of the story.. What a great journey. Actually, we ended up doing a great job updating this until November, when we both went on hiatus (and are still struggling to get back into it, even 6 months later). But a year went by and some on you even stuck it out until the end, and for that you have my gratitude.

As for Moony...Girl what a helluva year. I had a great time writing with you! I would definitely want to collab again, sometime SOON! We should keep talking... I know I'll miss you if we don't :')

And to the readers: Thank you all so much. I really appreciate all of your patience with this story. I hope you enjoyed the final outcome :)

Love, TheCatWithTheHat