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CHAPTER 5
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Orihime had discovered that trying to discuss the subject of Rangiku Matsumoto with Gin Ichimaru was about as easy as lassoing the moon.
Presently, she had been struggling to instigate a conversation with him, all to no avail. Every time she had even attempted to mention the name of Rangiku Matsumoto or Kira Izuru, he had skillfully and masterfully steered the direction of the dialogue to other, less meaningful matters before a single word ever had the chance to leave her mouth. Despite his smile and his deceptively friendly mannerisms, the man had proven himself harder to read than the cold, white walls around her.
It had disheartened her greatly. She had tried so hard to reach him the other day and now, without her even citing a syllable, Gin Ichimaru had seemingly foresaw her intent and cleverly took control over the exchange.
"So, my little flower of Hueco Mundo, how does it feel to finally be the center of everyone's undivided attention?" With his hands tucked together in the folds of his oversized sleeves, he offered her a smile over his shoulder. After a moment's hesitation, Orihime graciously accepted the message and yielded in her endeavor to speak of the blonde haired, beautiful woman he had left behind.
"It's…not as satisfying as one might think it would be," she fully admitted, as she found there would be no purpose in lying about it.
"I'm sure you'll get used to it." He grinned. "I'll bet you'll even come to enjoy living here. It can be quite entertaining at times." As they rounded a wide corner, Gin took a moment to slow his gait, allowing her to catch up with him and keep a steady pace by his side.
"I don't think I'll ever enjoy this place," she disagreed. "Especially the nights, I've never heard anything quite like it."
"Ah, you mean the beautiful music of Hueco Mundo?" he inquired.
"I would hardly call that noise beautiful," Orihime said seriously, as if the thought of it offended her. "There are…things trying to get into my room," she confessed, albeit with a measure of unwillingness. She was still afraid that her claims would be refuted for being foolish and childlike. She had always known most of her acquaintances viewed her as gullible, and even though they never considered her to be irresponsible, she was often seen as an individual who was simple-minded; too trusting and by most standards, a day dreaming fantasist. Unintentionally, her friends had labeled her as weak and defenseless before she was ever given a chance to prove the contrary. She was the singularity in their group that could always be depended upon to need protection, not give it.
So, when Gin Ichimaru had looked at her without an ounce of judgment or incredulity in his voice and said, "There's nothing much to worry about," Orihime had been astonished, and even grateful, that he had not questioned or doubted the authenticity of her claims. He had taken her word for it. "Most of the Hollows that lurk around the citadels at night are of even lesser standin' than Gillians. They hang around Las Noches during the late hours of the evening looking for scraps and free meals," Gin explained to her.
"Weaker than Gillians?" Orihime queried further as she looked up at him with curious eyes, observing his enduring smile.
"Yes, considering most of the Hollows with relatively higher intelligence and strength, such as the Adjuchas, have been hiding out in the underground forests recently, it has left the sand dunes around Las Noches relatively calm and barren," he assured. "This gives the weaker class ample opportunity to roam more freely, as you have discovered."
"Why is that?" Orihime blinked as she absorbed the information, certain that there must have been a critical reason for such a strong class of Hollows to be driven from their natural environment. "I'm not very familiar with Hueco Mundo, but it does sound a little…unnatural."
Gin gave her a long, casual shrug. "I suppose most of them are frightened of the Arrancar Aizen has created. So they seclude themselves to survive…or perhaps they're just shy," he said and when he angled his head towards her slightly and smiled, Orihime couldn't resist the infectiously cheerful façade he offered and readily returned the gesture with one of her own.
"It is still a cold comfort for me when I see them at night." She contributed a small grin, completely infected by his smile.
"Well," Gin began as they continued down the hall. "Would ya like to know a trick that will make them go away?" he proposed as he leaned down slightly and gave her a broad and considerably mischievous smile. "I could tell ya, if ya want."
Orihime pursed her lips together and lowered her head to try and stop the eager smile tugging at them, but failed when she looked back up and saw the grin on his face. No wonder Rangiku had fallen for him so hard, she thought with a soft blush. "Yes," she admitted as her face brightened. "I'd appreciate it very much."
It had been days since she could remember smiling genuinely…
"It's a very, very secret technique, mind you," he started to explain as he steadily leaned towards her inch by inch as if revealing a great mystery, completely captivating her in the process. "And you must only use it when you absolutely, positively have no other choice." His voice was nigh whispering and he watched with delight as she hung on his every word, her own person beginning to impatiently lean forward by the second, as if prompting him to continue. "All you have to do…is raise your spiritual pressure," he informed simply.
"Oh…" Orihime abruptly pulled back and furrowed her brow, wholly dissatisfied with the dull answer. "That's it?" she asked disbelievingly and eyed him with a measure of skepticism, speculating for a moment if he was even being serious with her.
"I already told you, it is the slower Hollows of lower intellect that loiter outside of Las Noches. Because of this, they are very prone to mindless instinct," he answered affably. "And what is the number one instinct of a mindless beast?" was his inquiry to her.
"…survival?" Orihime answered after several seconds of contemplation.
"Exactly," he praised her. "Your spiritual pressure is much stronger than what most of the Hollows outside your room will ever become. When you flex your reiatsu in such a manner that flaunts not only your strength, but your capability in controlling it, they will scatter like cockroaches."
"That…actually makes a lot of sense." Her quiet and airy laughter filled the empty corridors like a chime as she mentally berated herself for not thinking of something so straightforward and uncomplicated in the first place.
"I told you it was a good trick." He chuckled at her softly as he directed his attention back to the hallway before them.
Orihime glanced up to the man beside her as her laughter died out and her smile began to fade away. His presence offered a strange yet hollow comfort. There was something about him, something that just seemed so…out of place here. In fact, now that she looked closer, it seemed it was something that would render him an anomaly in any environment, be it Hueco Mundo, Soul Society or the living world. He was just, different.
She knew it wasn't any of her business, but Orihime just couldn't believe a person would be capable of coldly severing ties with someone who was so deeply molded into their heart, abandoning them like love had never lived inside them at all. It was pitiless and cruel and she had seen what it had done to Rangiku. Even if the beautiful woman had never let it show, it was still there in fleeting glances, only noticeable if you had an eye for it.
Orihime always had an eye for it.
It was because of this that Orihime wanted to believe Gin would be suffering the same mournful loneliness as Rangiku. Or rather, perhaps it merely helped Orihime sleep at night to imagine that Gin couldn't easily walk out on his loved ones and betray them without purpose or reason.
Maybe it was selfishness, maybe it was all for the sake of her own fragile emotions that she wished to discover the truth and put her heart at ease. Maybe she just wanted to be able to return home with the ability to tell Rangiku that he still thought about her everyday and that leaving her hadn't been as easy for him as it appeared to be.
Maybe she just wanted to hear one person in this giant, unending castle confess to feeling love.
As they arrived at the foot of her door, Orihime reached out to gently touch the sleeve of his uniform. "Aren't you lonely, Ichimaru-san?" she asked with a delicate suddenness.
"Loneliness is a state of mind." Showing absolutely no cracks in his exterior, he diffused her question with a mellow smile before moving to push open her door.
"But isn't our state of mind who we are?" She tugged carefully on his sleeve, stopping him from advancing. "Isn't that how we feel?" she inquired forlornly, a hushed tenderness lacing her words. "If everything is forced into a state of inertia…you will eventually become numb."
She stood quietly as she watched him turn to her. A strange and vastly uncomfortable chill ran down her spine when his grin lifted slightly. Leaning in, Gin gave her a cynical and dark chortle. It was a sound that gave way to memories of Kuchiki-san and Soul Society, and it forced her to recall just why she should be wary of this man. "Only if you have a conscience, my beautiful desert flower," he whispered with quiet sarcasm. "…only if you have a conscience." Orihime remained silent and lowered her eyes from his figure as he left. She couldn't help the twinge of sadness that tugged her heart. "I'll be sure to tell Aizen you thanked him for all the gifts," he called as he waved to her over his shoulder. "Take care, angel face."
Gifts? She thought quizzically while she stared at his retreating back, reflecting on his sobering yet puzzling words. Orihime stopped short when she stepped over the threshold of her room to see several new pieces of furniture had been added to the space during her absence. "What is all this?" she voiced unsurely and advanced further into the room to examine the new arrangements.
Her table had been moved several feet from the end of the sofa and was now sitting adjacent to it near the corner of her rug. As well, it had been given a sturdy high backed chair to accompany it with several books, sheets of paper and writing utensils that had been set atop the table for personal use. She was most surprised to see a large bed positioned at the furthest end of her room with the window centered just above its headboard. Orihime walked over to examine the new feature curiously, letting her fingers skim across the surface of the covers as she circled the wide mattress.
It was set high off the floor with clean white sheets that appeared to be silk and a comforter that must have had an incredibly high thread count. "At least it looks a bit warmer in here," she reasoned as she turned to inspect the rest of the furnishings. A chifferobe had been situated on the right wall, with a long mirror and many drawers. She could only assume it housed her uniforms and nightclothes.
Even the sofa had been given pillows to soften the room. After inspecting the new cushions for a moment, she looked toward the arm of the settee where she noticed a small bit of folded white material. Her face almost instantly lit up.
"A jacket!" Orihime stated happily as she rushed over to scoop the fabric up in her hands. Unfolding it, she made sure to shake it once or twice to smooth out the wrinkles. With her new jacket in hand, she quickly made her way over to the lavatory to use the mirror. Instead, she was once again astounded to see the entire space filled with bath salts, exotic soaps, hair accessories, towels and even perfume amongst various other items.
Picking up one of the bottles, she uncapped the lid and took a small whiff before scrunching up her face. It smelt very mature and subtle, but unsuited to her tastes as she placed the container back on the counter and headed for the mirror, uninterested in the plethora of unwanted items that had been gifted to her.
Unzipping the front of the jacket, she pulled it up her shoulders and glanced at her reflection. It was a very well designed outfit and even though the cloak that billowed down her back was long and wide, it was not heavy or burdensome. Shaking her hair lightly, Orihime studied herself in the mirror one last time.
She liked it well enough. Mostly because it felt warm against the chill of Hueco Mundo, despite how thin the fabric felt. She supposed that's all she could really ask for given her circumstances. After all, warm clothing was the only material desire she'd truly yearned for since arriving there. Even if it had completely ensconced her in their uniform, she could not bring herself to complain.
With a soft sigh, Orihime fretfully tugged on the sleeves of her new jacket as she stepped out of the bathroom and made her way towards the table, intending to inspect the pile of books that had been deposited into her quarters. When a subtle coldness started to spread through her surroundings, her mind was slow in catching up to her senses as a slender figure appeared at her door, announcing its presence.
"Does it fit properly?" a familiar voice inquired, nearly causing Orihime to jump in surprise when she turned. The harsh silhouette of her warden stood at her threshold, outlined by the faint light spilling in from the hallway and contrasting hard against the darkness.
"Oh, Ulquiorra." She smiled tentatively before answering. "Yes, it's very comfortable," she stated a bit nervously whilst she continued to pull against her sleeve.
"Good," he said as he strolled forward into the room, filling the air with a stale coldness that she was slowly growing accustomed to in his presence. It was a sensation that had once made her skin crawl with displeasure. "It suits you well."
Orihime felt her cheeks begin to warm. "You think so?" she inquired as she reached down and lifted the sides of her cape to examine its color, twisting her waist a little to feel the way it stretched and flowed with her body. "Thank you." She glanced back up to him, only to realize he was already at the other end of the room, not paying her an ounce of attention. He'd strode towards the edge of her bed and allowed his green eyes to scan over a few of the walls, appearing as if he were distracted by something.
"Is…something the matter?" she asked uncertainly.
"No," he replied as he made his way over to her bathroom. "Have you allowed Gin Ichimaru to enter this room at any point?" he questioned and pushed the door open with the back of his hand, his severe eyes glimpsing in to inspect the adjoining room coldly.
Orihime was confused. "No…he didn't seem very interested in staying, either," she admitted and watched as his eyes seemed to narrow at her words.
"I see," were his only words before he turned away to begin striding back to the exit. "I will be gone for several hours," he informed, completely changing the subject in a cavalier manner that left her baffled. "Do not allow anyone in this room in my absence."
"Wait," Orihime suddenly called when she realized he was about to leave just as abruptly as he had arrived.
Ulquiorra said nothing, but she was glad, at least, when he paused and redirected his attention to her.
"I…" she began and then wavered with indecision before taking a few steps forward to reach his side. "I just wanted to apologize." She nervously gripped her forearm as she glanced up into his eyes. "For how I acted the other night, I shouldn't have done that," she expressed softly as her brown eyes fell to his cheek, tracing the hard lines of his face and the vibrant green of his markings. "When I…I…" Her troubled voice trailed off when her hand began to hesitantly extend out, wanting to gently touch the area that she had struck in request for forgiveness.
For a brief moment, she thought he was going to let her.
Her stupor was swiftly broken, however, when he turned from her and proceeded to the door without a word.
"Thank you," she intoned quickly and candidly, hoping her words would reach him as she watched him halt once again. "What you did in that meeting…you don't know how much that meant to me," she clarified, referring to his actions in the conference room.
The room was hushed and silent, and as Orihime stared at his back lingering in the doorway, a strange swell of emotion pulsed to life in her chest. She had been there naught but a few days and already she was feeling lonely and isolated, gravely missing her friends. While Ulquiorra had been her only company, and poor company at that…perhaps if she reconciled with him, then things wouldn't have to be so bad.
"I've actually been thinking about a lot of things," she confessed, twirling her thumbs together anxiously. "And one of them is how badly I seem to have misjudged you."
Ulquiorra turned to regard the girl over his shoulder, and at this small sign of acknowledgement, Orihime took a modest step forward, confident that she had gained his full attention.
"I may not completely agree with how you do things, but…" She paused before she pulled her hands apart and gathered her courage, deciding to just come straight out and get on with her apologies, instead of dragging her words out like an imbecile. "When I look back on it, I've come to realize that even if it was callous of you to hurt them, you didn't kill those men in the senkaimon, and neither did you kill that Shinigami in the park the other night…" She spoke softly as her lashes lowered over her eyes, recalling the incident. "I could still sense Omaeda-san's reiatsu when I entered the garganta. He was still alive because you spared him. And when you offered up your arm in place of that servant's? Quite frankly, I hadn't thought I would ever find such kindness here." She dropped her head a bit, feeling mildly ashamed that she had misconstrued his character so horribly. "I can see I was wrong." She offered him a timid, yet sincere smile as a long silence stretched between them.
"Kindness?" Ulquiorra questioned quietly. "You believe my actions to be a display of mercy?"
"Well," she began and started to fiddle with her dress again. "Yes," she answered frankly as warmth laced her voice. He faced her fully now. Clearly, she had not seen the real intent behind his actions in leaving those Shinigami alive.
"You believe me to have…a sympathetic and compassionate heart?" he intoned slowly, fluidly, as he approached her. His eyes cleaved straight into her, and she saw a momentary flicker of something deep within them drowning out the reflection of the moon, something that made her squirm a little on the inside.
Instead of reacting, Orihime's smile only softened. Bury the hatchet, she reminded herself. "You have proven that well enough already," she declared with tempered ardor. She knew, despite herself, that even though he had seemed callous and unnaturally emotionless at first glance, she had to be wrong. For anyone who was willing to cut off their own arm for the sake of another could never be empty inside. It went against every fiber of her being to consider such a person heartless.
"You believe that I am capable of caring." His hushed tones seemed to whisper over her flesh as he deftly reached forward to scoop up a lock of hair with his finger. Unlike the churning in her stomach when Aizen touched her hair, Ulquiorra had elicited an entirely different reaction that she didn't understand. Smooth and subtle, Orihime shivered slightly when his finger eased down the silken strand and ever so briefly grazed the curve of her cheek. "Do you truly think my actions are more noble than they appear?"
"…yes," she replied on bated breath, unsure whether to be on guard or welcome his advances. She was trying to reconcile and connect with him, after all. Her eyes probed his, mesmerized by the way his green orbs followed his own finger intently as it slid past her neck before pulling away, coaxing the threads of cinnamon hair to slip from his knuckle like water.
"Does my heart appeal to you, Orihime Inoue?" he inquired softly, and Orihime felt a strange shock splinter outwards from deep within her chest when the cold pad of his finger gently touched the exposed contour of her collar bone, tracing it with slow, paralyzing purpose. The onyx slits of his pupils diligently stalked the appendage as it gradually ghosted over the casing of ivory skin that covered the fragile bone.
Orihime felt lost as her eyes chanced a glance at the thin curve of his lips, tentatively observing the small, innate frown that framed the harsh camber of his mouth and the soft, natural pout that pushed at his bottom lip, betraying the hardness of them, if ever so slightly.
"I…" Her response came amid a muted whisper, and she found herself unable to finish. She was wholly unsure of the answer herself.
"It would seem as if you have gravely misunderstood my actions." His voice was still soft, still saturated with quiet control as his eyes retreated from the fair glow of her skin and returned to her face. He took the moment to observe the way her delicate eyebrows began to furrow in confusion over her deep chocolate eyes. "Believe me when I say, there is nothing in this world that would offend me more-"
Orihime abruptly took a step back from him as if he had burned her. Her eyes were wide and glazed as she released a shallow and shuddering breath. If ever there was a time that she had felt as if she'd just been doused with cold water, she was certain it was then. "I'm sorry to have offended you," she said shakily as she compelled herself to remain impervious to his vacant and deceptively melancholic stare. Without another word, she watched as he placed his hand back into his pocket and turned from her.
"I'm not here to comfort you, either physically or emotionally," he informed with cold indifference, a cruel promise. Completely unaffected by the hurt in her eyes, he saw fit to give her one final warning. "I will return before the evening is through. You will not allow anyone in this room while I'm gone," he cautioned in a quiet pledge to the consequences. "If I see evidence to the contrary upon my return, then I will be forced to educate you on just how…heartless I can truly be."
"What is it, Tatsuki?" he had asked. "Tatsuki? Tell me what's wrong."
"It's Orihime…she's disappeared!" she'd declared worriedly. "Not at her house, not in town, nowhere!"
Ichigo had frozen.
"Yesterday, her presence faded and since then, I've looked everywhere, but…I can't find her! She's gone!"
He'd listened as she explained. He'd kept quiet. He'd remained composed.
He'd tried so hard…
"Ichigo." She had approached him then, and Ichigo knew Tatsuki too well to assume she wasn't serious when she suddenly looked up at him with violence in her eyes. "You know where she went, don't you?" she'd accused - it was with good reason.
Ichigo had paused, he had been unsure what to do about her, he'd been unsure what to even do about himself…
Ichigo imagined himself someplace far, far away from this mess as he conquered his doubt, composed himself with an aloof demeanor and willed any feelings that had surfaced to be numbed. Somehow, he was able to muster up just enough emptiness inside him to pretend as if he didn't care.
"What the hell do you mean by that?" he'd sneered, appearing completely unconcerned. "Why would I know anything about that? Besides, are you even sure she's gone?" He had rolled his eyes to the side, appearing exceedingly bored with her and this conversation. "Hell, Tatsuki, maybe you just need to look harder."
Ichigo wasn't surprised when he suddenly felt the lapel of his sweater gripped with a vengeful force. "Stop fucking around!" she'd demanded without mercy, drawing the attention of everyone in the hall. "That presence of hers that I've always felt is gone. The presence I feel when she's close by!" she'd exclaimed as she pushed him back against the hallway windows, and Ichigo wondered if she realized just how right she was. "For a while, the presence faded to a point where it seemed like it was trapped behind a wall or something. But then, yesterday, even that faded out!" She persisted vigorously, as if she had to explain it to an infant, just to beat the idea into his head that she knew, even better than she knew her own self, that something had happened to Orihime.
"You know something, right?" She pushed again with her fist tightening around his collar by the second, urging him in the only way she knew how, the only way that made sense to Tatsuki, to tell her the truth. To just say it and get it out in the open and just admit what they all already knew.
"Ichigo!"
"What the fuck's wrong with you?" he abruptly roared and had unintentionally let the stress of Inoue's abduction and Yamamoto's abandonment of her come through in harsher words and tones than he'd truly intended. "I already told you, I don't know! Something's seriously wrong with you! What are you even talking about?" he had berated cruelly.
The moment he'd looked into her eyes, he wished he could take it back. Even though he hadn't meant it, even though she knew he was faking, even though she'd been hiding how much she felt left out of their friendship recently–when he saw the hurt in her eyes, Ichigo wanted to take it back.
"You…really think I don't know anything?" she'd muttered and lowered her head slightly. "I have seen you wearing that black kimono and fighting those strange people. Everything you're hiding…Ichigo." She'd paused and looked up to him with the most pleading and vulnerable eyes he'd ever seen the girl bare to anyone, sending guilt straight to his core. "Isn't it enough already? Just tell me."
For a split second, he'd nearly given in, He'd nearly told her. He had wanted to tell her and promise her he'd bring Inoue back safely and everything would be just the way it was before, but he stopped himself. Because he knew dragging her into it was too dangerous, too selfish. Tatsuki wouldn't be one to sit on the sidelines if she knew Inoue had been kidnapped by murderous Arrancar led by an evil tyrant capable of killing her with a wave of his hand…no, Tatsuki would force herself into the situation, and she'd get hurt.
And so he'd frowned and he'd looked down on her like she was just an annoying pest. And he'd managed just enough more of that emptiness inside him, and he'd coldly told her off…
"Damn it!" Ichigo bellowed. "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" he cursed repeatedly as he continued to pound his fist into the rooftop's steel door. Over and over again, he would not relent, even when his knuckles had begun to split and bleed.
It was not until several minutes of venting had passed that he paused to catch his breath and pressed his forehead against the battered slab of metal before him. However, the respite only worsened his mood as the lull opened his mind up and reminded him just how awful he felt when he didn't have his fists to distract him from the pain.
"…damn it!" he whispered harshly and pressed his brow further against the door before slamming his fist against it one last time.
Where was Chad? And where the hell was Uryuu? Now, when Inoue needed them most, when Ichigo needed them most, they were nowhere to be found.
Ichigo clenched his eyes shut and rammed his foot into the door irritably when he felt the familiar bite of tears rousing against his lashes to mock his weakness. The action proved useless when he opened his lashes just in time to watch the first teardrop fall to the concrete beneath his feet.
Twisting around to let his back slide down the dented surface of the door, Ichigo pulled his knees up to rest his forearms on as he wiped his tears away and stared blankly at the sky. An image of Inoue's smiling face came to mind…only to have a picture of the pale Espada accompany it immediately afterwards.
Ichigo felt his stomach lurch.
There was something about that man that stuck to the back of Ichigo's brain like a sickness. It wouldn't leave him be. It wasn't like with Grimmjow, where all he could think about was fighting him and winning at any cost, even by means of rushing into battle to prematurely use an unrefined technique against the better judgment of the man who'd taught it to him, just for the sake of avenging his wounded pride.
No, this was something deeper…something fouler.
Whenever they'd lock eyes, instinct would violently claw and push to the front of Ichigo's mind and roar out like an uncontrollable beast to stay away from him. Every bone in his body screamed at the boy not to engage.
Yet, there was a smaller, secluded part inside of him that sat quietly, waiting patiently, pacing back and forth like a predator to strike at his weakest moment. It was a seed of something dark and odious, and it would whisper to him with a slimy slur that sounded suspiciously like his Hollow, but so much worse. It would send an uncomfortable itch down the back of his neck as it would deviously inform,
Someday, you're going to become just like those Hollows.
It shook him to the core of his being and it dug inside of him until it made him sick.
To think back on that strange, premonition-like dream troubled him. The scenes would play repeatedly in his mind and he couldn't shake them, no matter how hard he tried. It was always the same, despite how desperately his conscious mind tried to alter the events;
Inoue crying over him. Inoue leaving him. Inoue in Hueco Mundo. Inoue with that Arrancar. Inoue turning away from him for that Arrancar…and always, no matter how it tortured him, he remembered the toxic green of his eyes as he stared Ichigo down.
All he could continue asking, to distract himself from the pain of witnessing the corruption of his friend was, what the hell kind of a man dreams about that kind of stuff, anyways? Before quickly reminding himself that it simply wasn't real…even if parts of it had already come to fruition.
Ichigo sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, trying to shake the disturbing thoughts from his mind. He probably wouldn't have been acting so sulky if Rukia were there…
Ichigo paused in that thought as pain bubbled its way up his gut.
Why did Rukia leave him? Why had she abandoned him? Why didn't she fight for him?
These were the only things that had stuck in his head as miserably as that terrible dream had. Guiltily enough, when she had given in and left him without even putting up a struggle, a small part of him had resented her for it. After all they had been through together, after everything they had faced…
Ichigo groaned tetchily and pushed his fingers through his hair again, pulling tightly at the roots to berate himself for thinking such things. She'd had no choice and he knew it.
She also wouldn't have tolerated this kind of behavior from him, he also knew, but without her it always seemed as if he was helpless to his fits of despair. The hell if he ever knew why.
Just as well, Ichigo felt with every bone in his body that it was something he had to do on his own.
He didn't need them or anyone else to help him. He'd learned that clear enough yesterday when Soul Society had forsaken Inoue in such a pathetic and pitiless manner just to suit their own needs. If he'd thought their prior treatment of Rukia had been bad, then what they were doing to Inoue was downright unfeeling. He would get her back on his own, and he didn't need Rukia or Renji, nor Chad and Uryuu, and certainly not Soul Society or even God's help to bring her home.
Ichigo stood and wiped his face clean once more to remove any remaining tear stains as he turned to grab the doorknob leading back to the school.
When he felt a very intense, and suspiciously familiar, reiatsu signature appear in the far off distance, Ichigo immediately turned from the entryway and rushed to the railing that braced the edge of the rooftop. It was faint, but he concentrated hard as he felt the energy fluctuate once more for a brief moment and then die out like a beacon, openly displaying itself in invitation.
"That reiatsu is…" Ichigo muttered to himself before the sudden image of the pale Espada sputtered into his mind. Abruptly, Ichigo turned on his heel and raced through the doorway and down the stairs, knowing every twist and turn by heart as he hastily rushed out of the building.
He couldn't be sure if it was pure luck or divine intervention that it happened his house was on the way towards his destination, allowing him to quickly stop and utilize Kon in order to change over. He'd wasted little time on his long trek and as he jumped down from the last rooftop on the outskirts of town, Ichigo hurried his pace across the soccer field and headed into the brush of the forest. He took to the branches to afford him better time, providing a faster, more efficient route in comparison to bobbing and weaving around the mountains of pesky brush piles. Although he was clumsy and loose footed at first, as he was unused to such a scenic method of travel, he adapted quickly and moved as swiftly as the branches would allow.
When he sensed just how close he was, Ichigo slowed upon feeling the spiritual pressure of the individual just ahead. The energy they were giving off was unmistakably Arrancar and showed no signs of movement. Dropping from a tree, Ichigo landed in a plain, grassy clearing just outside the edge of Karakura Town where a single figure stood silently, patiently waiting for his arrival with closed eyes and hands that rested leisurely in his pockets.
The boy frowned as he realized his assumptions had been correct.
He may not know his name, but he'd recognize that cryptic reiatsu anywhere. It was cold as death, and the only thing Ichigo could truly liken it to was the very moment a heart stopped beating.
"You're late," his smooth voice spoke up and the moment it did, that disturbing sensation crawled its way into Ichigo's mind again, setting him on edge before he even had a chance to silence the feeling.
"Where's Inoue?" Ichigo immediately asked, wasting no time with pleasantries. He made sure to keep his features schooled and hardened so as to not put him at any disadvantages.
"She's safe," Ulquiorra answered calmly as his eyes slid open to observe the young man before him.
"What did you do with her?" he demanded again and found that he had to force himself to mentally shake the sensation of the man's reiatsu away from his skin. Ichigo grit his teeth, wondering why it was so unnerving.
"Do you not wish to know why I am here?" he inquired as he continued to regard the boy. His behavior was surprisingly rational and composed. It was not what he had been expecting.
"No," Ichigo replied as he watched the man begin to approach him. "Not unless it has to do with Inoue, I don't have anything against you."
"I must say, I am rather surprised," Ulquiorra admitted as he continued to close the large gap between them, diligently watching the boy for any signs of agitation that would lead to him drawing his sword, but finding none. "I presumed you would be much livelier than this, Ichigo Kurosaki."
Ichigo did well to hide the sudden shiver that went down the back of his neck upon hearing his name spoken in that quiet and eerie voice.
"Do you not wish to fight me?" His stare was staunch and unyielding, and Ichigo wondered, if only briefly, if the man had seen through his moment of discomfort.
"No," Ichigo repeated firmly, holding his ground and his stare with sharp eyes.
"Is it because you are afraid…" he stated slowly.
Now he knew the Arrancar was fucking with him.
"No," Ichigo reaffirmed and clenched his jaw tightly. He refused to take the bait, even as the pale man came to a distance a little too close for him to put up a swift defense if necessary.
"You showed more enthusiasm in Grimmjow's presence. Perhaps the loss of your comrades has taken the fight out of you."
"It hasn't," Ichigo bit out darkly and had to force the words from his mouth through grit teeth. His eyes grew hard and narrowed as he glared at the approaching man, until everything suddenly melted away, and all he could see was that hideous poison green of his eyes that had haunted him since that day in the park.
Then, as if Ulquiorra had read his mind;
"Does my presence unsettle you, Ichigo Kurosa-"
"Stop saying my fucking name like that!" Ichigo lashed out furiously, watching as Ulquiorra finally came to a stop not ten feet from him.
"There is no need for hysterics," Ulquiorra said calmly as he turned his head slightly to gaze off at something in the far distance. Just like that, he'd gotten the rise out of him that he'd wanted. Having riled him up, he switched tactics to diffuse the situation with ease and brushed off Ichigo's explosive outburst like he hadn't just provoked him on purpose. "I have been sent here on business, I have no intention of creating conflict."
"Really, I couldn't tell…" Ichigo scowled dryly. "If I didn't know any better, I would have gotten the impression you were trying to taunt me into a fight," he added in a voice that held not an ounce of sarcasm. It had quickly earned him a brief, but sweltering, sideways glare from the corner of Ulquiorra's eye.
"I'm here to give you this," Ulquiorra said as he pulled the document out from the inside of his jacket and tossed it to the boy.
"What is it?" Ichigo asked as he caught the parchment deftly.
"It is the acceptance letter sent by Lord Aizen in response to the request for an armistice in exchange for the girl, Orihime Inoue, appealed by Soul Society."
Ichigo stared down at the item as his fist began to clench tightly around the scroll upon learning this latest news. "They sold her out…for a fucking treaty?" he whispered wrathfully.
"You will deliver it to Commander Genryusai Yamamoto and inform him-"
"I'm not delivering shit," Ichigo declared as he threw the document at Ulquiorra's feet.
"What?" he asked sharply, his eyes narrowing in on the boy like a magnet.
"Sorry to disappoint you, but I've disassociated myself with Soul Society. Find someone else to play your paperboy," he nearly spat as he turned to leave.
"If you do not deliver the message, then I will be unable to guarantee the safety of the girl."
"And just what's that supposed to mean?" Ichigo very nearly growled as he rounded on the pale man, glaring fiercely.
"It means that if you do not deliver this message as instructed, the girl may quickly become useless to Lord Aizen in the war against Soul Society. If there is no treaty, there is no ceasefire. If there is no ceasefire, then there is no use to keep the girl as a bargaining chip…and there is no room for useless baggage in Hueco Mundo."
"Damn it," Ichigo cursed under his breath as he mentally weighed the few options he had. "Those bastards." How could they do this?
"You!" a familiar voice suddenly rang out in the hush of the moment and Ichigo turned just in time to see a breathless Tatsuki emerge from the brush surrounding the clearing. "You there! You know where Orihime is!" the winded girl shouted vengefully. Despite the thin sheen of perspiration on her brow and the clear exhaustion in her eyes from tracking Ichigo over such a long distance, she stood tall and straight and addressed him with a firm stare.
"Shit," he swore distraughtly when he saw her start to approach the Espada. "Tatsuki, no!" he shouted fearfully in an effort to warn her.
"Tell me where she is!" she demanded and continued to move forward. "I know you have her!"
Ulquiorra stood placidly as he watched the human female persistently advance on him. His eyes never left her person as he gauged her strength and quickly concluded she was trash, even if she was able to stand against the force of his reiatsu, no matter that he had almost completely blocked it. His mere presence alone should have stopped her from proceeding.
"Tatsuki, stop," he said before quickly making his way over to her. "You don't know what you're-"
"Stay out of this, Ichigo." She fumed and gave him a vicious glare, stopping him in his tracks. "I know exactly what I'm doing," she declared resolutely, but Ichigo could already see that just being near the Arrancar was taxing her immensely. In addition to the exhaustion of her run, her breath was growing shallower by the second and her knees shook with the grueling effort needed to keep herself from collapsing. "I know what I am doing," she repeated sternly, her eyes gazing into his in a manner that spoke to her determination and willpower.
He could see it in her entire being, that spark of bravery that said she knew she could die. She knew that she was dealing with something she may not completely understand, but she knew this had everything to do with Orihime, and if this was all she could do to try and reach her friend, then she wouldn't allow anyone or anything to hold her back.
Not even death.
Gathering all her strength, Tatsuki pushed forward with all her might and leveled the Arrancar with a serious glower. "I told you, tell me where Orihime is!" she shouted one last time before charging forward with her fist raised, fully intending to land a solid punch to the man's jaw. Like a dial being adjusted, Ichigo felt the tiny shift in Ulquiorra's reiatsu just then, rising not even a tenth of a degree, and Tatsuki hit the dirt with a painful and keening cry before suddenly releasing a horrible scream of agony.
"Stop it!" Ichigo suddenly rushed forward to stand guard over her protectively, livid at himself for not having put a halt to such ridiculousness in the first place. "You'll kill her!" He drew his sword as he shouted aggressively at the man, and to his surprise, felt the pressure immediately subside off of her.
"I have no intention of killing her," he stated dismissively as he turned and replaced his hand into his pocket. "Deliver the message to Soul Society and I will guarantee my personal protection over the girl." At his words, a garganta split open before him like a ravenous mouth and Ichigo watched in silence as his slender form disappeared into the raging swirls of reishi before abruptly closing.
Ichigo sheathed his Zanpakuto and bent down to collect the unconscious girl in his arms. His brow furrowed over his troubled eyes upon realizing the situation had only served as a painful reminder as to why she could not get involved…and why he must sever himself from their circle of friends.
If things remained as they stood now, he would only bring them misery…and that was something that he just couldn't handle.
Orihime released a frustrated sigh and retraced her eyes to the beginning of the paragraph. She'd been stuck on the same page of her book for the past hour and had gotten absolutely nowhere. Scanning over the first bits of the verse, Orihime attempted to concentrate again and absorb the words. It was Frost, and she was vaguely aware of the mention of flowers withering…and something or another about the seasons…or was it treasons?
"…there is nothing in this world that would offend me more…" Ulquiorra's voice echoed back to her.
What a dreadful thing to say, she thought irritably, lost to her thoughts once more.
The auburn haired girl swiftly crossed her legs and brought the book back up to her face to renew her efforts when she realized she was floundering again. Starting from the beginning, she focused hard and followed the flow of the letters…and quickly failed.
Really though, it was appalling enough that she had fallen for such an obvious trap that had ended with her capture in the first place, but for him to openly mock her naiveté in such a cruel and harsh manner was downright vicious. How could she have ever conceived the notion of that man being kind?
To think she had actually gotten heart palpitations!
Orihime snapped her book closed and gripped her chest in a swell of sadness when an image of Ichigo, handsome and smiling, came to the forefront of her mind.
Why had she allowed another man to get so close to her…and so easily? What in heaven's name was she thinking?
Nothing.
She told herself frantically when she was hit with the foreign fear of realizing her precious Kurosaki-kun's face had faded from her mind, if even briefly, in Ulquiorra's presence. Whatever the circumstances had been, the thought had been entertained inside her heart. It left her petrified. She felt appalled as the heavy and bitter stigma of 'disloyal' and 'betrayer' thrummed in time to the rhythm of her heart.
When the stress of the last several days began to set in and she once again posed the question to herself, what was she thinking, her answer was swift and decisive as she forcibly reiterated the fact that it was nothing at all. In a mysterious and rather macabre way, Ulquiorra was an attractive man and she doubted it was unusual for a woman to feel a little captivated if found on the receiving end of his intense stare. Orihime knew that's all those feelings merely were. Even she had moments where she would blush around Ishida-kun and even Sado-kun at times…and certainly her heart would beat a bit more rapidly when the handsome Kurosaki-kun would stand too close.
Ulquiorra had taken advantage of her loneliness to drive home a personal point, and he'd done so in a very malicious and tasteless manner.
Orihime tossed her book onto the settee as if she were tossing aside the very thought of him. It was trivial. A decidedly insignificant, inconsequential, and trifling nonissue.
Upon hearing a soft knock at her door, Orihime glanced over and called out, "Come in," before immediately recanting it when she recalled the warning that Ulquiorra had given her. "Wait!" she said hastily and watched as the door continued to open regardless, only to reveal the deaf Arrancar pushing a cart forward into her room, completely oblivious to her outburst. After parking the trolley and glancing at the girl, the expression on her face gave him pause and he swiftly looked away from her with modest uncertainty.
She knew Ulquiorra had said no visitors, but surely he couldn't have meant him as well? However, before she had a chance to motion for him to come forward, he'd lowered his head timidly and retreated from the room, leaving the door open in his haste.
Orihime moved towards the entrance, prepared to chase him down and apologize for startling him, but he was already gone. When she approached the trolley and glimpsed down, she was intrigued to see a small flower sitting atop the silver dome that covered her plate. She cocked her head, wondering if it was paper. When she reached down to pick it up, she was astonished as her fingers wrapped around a thin, crisp stem that was moist and smooth, not brittle and wrinkled like paper.
It was a real flower.
A gentle smile played over her lips as she touched the small blossom lightly to her upper lip, taking in the fresh scent of sweetness and life. It was a soft red, with ginger splashes decorating its petals, very much like the color of her hair.
"What do you got there, princess?" a rugged voice inquired from the doorway, causing her to promptly raise her head to meet a pair of electric blue eyes.
"Grimmjow-kun?" She was slightly taken aback by his unexpected arrival.
"It took me a while," he said as he examined his nails casually, his shoulder leaning heavily against the doorframe whilst his other hand remained buried in his pocket. "But I finally found where that bastard was hiding you."
"Hiding?" Orihime blinked.
"That a real flower?" Grimmjow inquired as he stepped forward, ignoring her question and inviting himself in.
After another second of empty contemplation, she glanced down to the blossom she held in her hand and shook herself from her musings. "Oh," she said apprehensively and tried to offer him a smile. "Yes, it is."
"Steal it from Aizen's conservatory?" he asked with a roguish grin and reached out to pluck it from her fingers. Inquisitively, he lifted it to his nose and sniffed, grimacing at its saccharine scent before tossing it to the side where it landed on the floor.
"No, someone-" She stopped short as the word 'steal' paraded through her mind. "I mean…yes, I did take it," she said in hopes of protecting the mute Hollow who had given it to her, particularly if taking things like this without Aizen's consent was prohibited. "I didn't know we weren't allowed to," she added quickly.
"Yeah, yeah, I won't tell." Grimmjow waved over his shoulder as he gave her an apathetic shrug, seeming like he could hardly care about the matter. "As if I give a damn about what happens to his greenhouse and those bloody tea leaves," he stated bluntly before eventually rounding on her to take a good look at the new addition to her uniform. "Nice coat." Smirking in a rather lackadaisical fashion, he paced a few slow steps around her while his hand reached out and tucked the hem of her long cloak into the hook of his finger, lifting it to examine with fake interest.
Remembering that she had left the fabric unfastened in the wake of Ulquiorra's departure, Orihime hastily reached up and zipped the jacket straight up to her neck.
Grimmjow chuckled.
After several more suffocating seconds, she felt the material slide from his hand as he continued to navigate around her person.
"…t-thank you," she said belatedly and swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. She lowered her eyes a bit as he came to a stop by her side and openly stared at her in that brazen and nerve-wracking audacious manner of his.
"Looks better without it, though," he said in a tawdry voice and smirked when he saw the apprehensive peek she gave him from under her lashes. When his smirk had parted slightly, unintentionally revealing a small preview of his sharp teeth, Orihime's eyes widened dramatically. Her pupils dilated and zeroed in on the jagged image before her. Her reaction immediately triggered his smile to spread in a large, flashy grin, shamelessly exposing and flaunting his rows of razor sharp teeth that appeared as if they could cleave straight through steel.
"Like what you see?" he chuckled darkly.
Orihime swallowed again, only to nearly choke when the lump in her throat refused to budge.
"So," he began with a rather leery and guarded tone, his smile slowly fading. Gradually, he leaned back to allow his eyes a slow, wary glance around her quarters, effectively affording her some proper breathing room at the same time. "Ulquiorra around?" he inquired with phony nonchalance.
Orihime shook her head slightly as she took the opportunity to inconspicuously step away from him. "No," she said as she bent down to pick up the flower he had discarded on the floor. "However…I was told not to allow anyone in the room while he's gone," she added a little ambiguously, hoping he would get the hint.
"Don't want me around, princess?" he asked as he began to close in on her again.
"That's not what I meant," she said with an apologetic and uneasy strain in her voice, sidestepping his advance. She was beginning to become very concerned about feeling like a prey animal about to be brought down by the front of her throat every time she was on the receiving end of his stares. "I would very much like some company, but he said-"
"Like I give a shit about what that prick says," he interrupted a bit irately before suddenly leaning down to give her a severe glare, making her flinch back at the brusque movement. "…you know that bastard is afraid of me?"
Her eyes widened a little at the unprovoked admission.
"He…he is?" she asked awkwardly. "Why is that?" With wary eyes, she watched him progressively begin to ease away from her.
"Son of a bitch acts like he's better than everybody else," he intoned petulantly when he turned from her and shoved his hands deep into his pockets to begin pacing the rug with a slow restlessness. "But I know the truth…he's afraid I'll destroy him, that's why he won't fight me," he scoffed derisively. Orihime didn't know what triggered the change, but she welcomed it if it meant she got some breathing room. "That coward's too fucking terrified Aizen will discover how weak he really is. He knows I'm going to kill him - and he's afraid," he stressed harshly, silently fuming as his knuckles began to turn white against the strain of his tightly clenched fists hidden in his pockets.
"I can see it…" he intoned quietly as he suddenly grew very still, as if he had forgotten where he was, that she was even in the room. "Every time I look into his eyes…I can see it."
"See what?" she drawled innocently as she watched him stand motionless in the middle of her rug. It was several moments of tense silence later before he turned to glance at her over his shoulder, prompting her to reiterate, "He just seems so…aloof to most things. Perhaps he just doesn't like confrontation?" she suggested earnestly and Grimmjow laughed loudly.
"Believe me when I say, there is nothing that bastard loves more."
Orihime blinked as she observed the smile return to Grimmjow's face. "I never would have guessed…"
"Of course not, that's what he wants everybody to think-" he said before quickly stopping short. "What the…" he began coarsely and Orihime tilted her head in confusion when his eyes narrowed in on her person and frowned. "What the hell are you doing here, brat?"
"E-excuse me?" Orihime blinked again, completely mystified.
"Did you follow me here?" he questioned with a sudden amount of hostility simmering in his voice.
Orihime nearly gasped when she saw him start to advance on her. When she took a concerned step back, only to bump into something directly behind her, she whipped her head around, shocked to see a pair of large violet eyes looking up at her with bright enthusiasm.
"Aah," a slurred voice called up to her.
"Wonderweiss-san?" Orihime let a light, airy smile spread across her lips. "Where did you come from?" she inquired merrily as he replied in his usual, indecipherable manner.
"Waah."
Orihime giggled softly.
"Is that so?" she said with a gentle kindness. "I'm very glad to see you again, too." Placing a hand on her knee, Orihime bent at the waist as she reached down to offer the young boy a welcoming pat on the head, earning her a noise of approval.
"You actually understand that retard?" Grimmjow scoffed disbelievingly.
"Of course," Orihime chirped as she watched Wonderweiss slowly begin to rise to his full height, examining her hairpins curiously. At such close proximity, she was surprised to find him much taller than she had originally imagined. Without his usual slouched posture, he was only an inch or two shorter than her. "Words aren't necessary when you can feel what the heart wants to say," she explained, articulating her answer with another smile.
"Sounds like a load of shit to me…" Grimmjow muttered as he scratched the back of his neck distractedly, not particularly interested in the direction their conversation was going. When he heard a startled yelp emitted by the girl, he glanced up, not at all surprised to see her form held firmly in the unrelenting grasp of the young Wonderweiss, his face immersed in the deep space between her breasts. "I would have figured you'd realized by now that Hollows are incapable of communication by means of the 'heart', princess," he said cynically. "The fuck if humans are, either," he added dryly.
"I believe both Hollows and humans alike, as well as Shinigami, are more than capable of having a heart…and opening that heart to love," she intoned sincerely, and even though her arms were trapped tightly at her sides, she lifted a hand to touch a lock of the soft, flaxen hair tucked closely to her bosom. "Haven't you ever had a friend, Grimmjow-kun?" she inquired as she watched him saunter over to examine the stack of books on her table. He responded with a noncommittal grunt that she could only assume was an affirmation. "If you've ever felt that connection, then I'm sure you've already known the strength of those bonds…and the security of knowing you're never alone, no matter that you don't have anyone beside you."
"Sounds like a pretty screwy fantasy, princess," he laughed loudly before turning to regard her person once more. "That's the kind of shit that's gonna start eroding your brain if you keep it up." He grinned wickedly, the handsome features of his face lighting up as he scrutinized her with his vibrant eyes.
Orihime lightly shook her head in argument. "The heart is such a strong thing, Grimmjow-kun, it's the very core of friendship and courage…it keeps you warm when you're cold, and it gives you strength when you are weakened…" she said quietly as her eyes grew distant and nostalgic, recalling the comforting presence of her friends. "It's so very hard to explain…but I know I can show you, and when Kurosaki-kun gets here- AH!" Orihime cried out suddenly as pain shot up her arm like a blade. Her knees buckled and her vision blurred as she felt a violent force wretch her out from the arms of Wonderweiss.
"Kurosaki?" Grimmjow intoned darkly as he pulled her to him, glaring deep into her eyes. "Ichigo Kurosaki?"
Orihime's hand shot over to his, tightening around his wrist as his grip remained firm and uncompromising. "G-Grimmjow-kun…" she stuttered as she felt him squeeze right down to the bone. "Please st-" She lost her breath.
"You know that bastard?" he growled out viciously. His eyes were penetrating and wild and she feared if he didn't stop, he would snap her arm without even trying.
"Yes!" she answered quickly, hoping he would release her if she complied, not knowing what she had done to anger him. She had never seen anything so feral.
"Is he coming for you?" The pain had left her breathless, and when she didn't immediately answer, he jerked her closer and began to tighten his grip. "Is he?!" Orihime's vision swam. Her view of beautiful, glittering blue eyes and equally deep azure locks of hair began to fade together like smears of ink.
"I…I don't-"
"Fuck!" Grimmjow abruptly hissed as he snapped his hand back, releasing her when Wonderweiss quickly and proficiently grabbed hold of the man's arm, brought it to his mouth, and bit down with enough force to break the skin. "What the fuck was that for, you little shithead?" Grimmjow complained as Orihime fell to the floor, clutching gently to the tender and bruised flesh of arm.
Orihime immediately began kicking away from him, gauging him with fear and uncertainty lacing her watery eyes.
Bringing his own bruised arm up for inspection, Grimmjow irately grumbled about something under his breath before glancing down at her with a look of vague annoyance. "The fuck's your problem?" he asked crossly as he watched her quiet form sitting on the floor, as if he hadn't nearly just broke her arm.
Orihime realized she was shaking when, as she reached up to try and wipe away her tears, her hand trembled with the throb of pain and fright that coursed through her shuddering body. Her eyes lowered to the ground as she forced her uninjured arm to steady itself and smear her tears away. "It's nothing, Grimmjow-kun," she said shakily, holding back a sob. "I know you didn't mean it," she whispered quietly, and she had seen it in his eyes that he simply just didn't understand.
He really, truly didn't.
With moist cheeks and a pale flush draining the soft color of her flesh, Orihime took a slow, quivering breath that shook her lips and filled her lungs. Schooling her features, she replaced the pain and hurt in her voice with a forlorn smile, glancing up to him with brown eyes that offered forgiveness and understanding. "…I know you didn't mean it."
..
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TBC
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