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CHAPTER 6
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He was really starting to despise the feeling of the document in his hand. Even if it was light and didn't weigh much, the true weight of such a thing could not be measured in ounces and pounds. The document held responsibility and power. It also held the prospect of ruining an alliance of titanic proportions if he failed to deliver it to its proper recipient; something he had been greatly tempted to do.
Worst of all, that document held the weight of betrayal.
Ichigo could hardly look at the blasted thing without grimacing and being overcome with the urge to toss it into the nearest and deepest lake. He felt as if he were deliberately participating in the treacherous act of selling out one of his closest friends as a wartime commodity. It was an unsettling feeling. Inoue was more than just a product to be slaved off to pacify the demands of a war that she had nothing to do with. It simply wasn't fair and he prayed that she, nor any of his other friends, would ever come to learn of his involvement, no matter how small or unwilling it may be.
He'd had no choice in the matter. Inoue was worlds away. It wasn't as if he could just stroll down the street and come to her rescue. He was in the living world, she was in Hueco Mundo, and he had absolutely no method or manner to get to her. If he wanted to keep her safe, he had to play by their rules.
Ichigo hated playing by rules, or rather, any rules that weren't his own.
A bitter scowl erupted on his face as he thought back to what that Arrancar had said.
He, Ichigo Kurosaki, the protector of all protectors…had to rely on that man to protect Inoue.
The young man stopped on his trek down the empty, deserted side street and lifted the hand that held the document high over his head, fully intending to throw it to the concrete beneath his feet in hopes of destroying the accursed thing, only to pause.
"Damn it all," he growled out angrily, knowing full well that he couldn't do it. If he gave in to such a selfish impulse, he'd be sealing Inoue's fate for sure, and that would make him no better than them. That was something he just couldn't do, no matter how much he detested the treaty, no matter how much his morals said that using her was wrong. Ichigo knew that if he purposefully disposed of that monstrosity for the sake of his own conscience, he would be sending Inoue to her death.
Unable to deal with the stress of holding and feeling the papers in his hands any longer, Ichigo shoved the scroll deep into the large pocket of his hakama, out of sight. With a resigned sigh, he pushed forward and resumed his journey to reach the Urahara Shoten.
He hadn't made it but a few blocks further when the short, familiar figure of Captain Toshiro Hitsugaya appeared before him, blocking his path. His look was as somber and serious as always while he stared the strawberry haired youth down with unwavering conviction.
"Great…" Ichigo mumbled to himself and rubbed at the back of his neck irritably, knowing things were going to become troublesome one way or another. "What do you want, Toshiro?" he asked rudely and when the diminutive Captain's scowl merely deepened momentarily, failing to correct him on the blatant nonuse of honorifics, Ichigo knew something was amiss.
"I cannot allow you to reach Kisuke Urahara," he stated simply.
"Is that what this is all about?" Ichigo chuckled. "What? You think I'm going to have him send me to Hueco Mundo or something?" His laughter died off slowly as he shook his head reproachfully. "You should've known by now, I would have done that days ago if I knew I could get away with it."
With his face unmoved, the young Captain clearly did not share in his semi-sarcastic humor. "No matter your reason, I cannot risk allowing you to get near that man."
Ichigo's eyes narrowed a little as he heard this. "So that hat and clogs really does know how to get there…" he muttered to himself, ruminating on what Toshiro had inadvertently revealed.
"Whether he does or does not is irrelevant," Toshiro replied. "I am under direct orders to detain you if you try. Even if your motivation is unrelated to Orihime Inoue and Hueco Mundo, access to Kisuke Urahara is prohibited."
"She took you into her home, you know?" Ichigo said quietly as he stared the shorter man down. "She treated you like family."
Toshiro glanced away, staring blankly at the cold concrete of the sidewalk that held no meaning or interest. "Emotional attachments hold no merit in this discussion." His platinum white hair reflected the light of the street lamp overhead as a silence stretched between them. It was the silence of a winter night, with no birds or insects to drone in the background and no leaves to cushion the sway of the branches in the trees as they rolled against the wind. "Are you going to turn back now, or must I be forced to subdue you?" he asked steadily as his eyes returned to the boy once more.
"I don't care what you do, I'm going to get to Soul Society one way or another," Ichigo answered firmly.
Toshiro blinked briefly before recovering his features. "Soul Society?" he questioned. "What business do you have there?"
Ichigo narrowed his eyes in a moment of confusion. "You mean you don't know?"
"Know what?" Toshiro pushed further, his patience waning.
Ichigo nearly laughed, but his serious disposition wouldn't allow it, not when his friend's life was at stake. "It's about this," he said as he reached into his pocket to pull out the scroll. Toshiro glanced at it shortly and remained quiet, allowing the boy to explain. "Soul Society apparently sent Aizen an offer entailing a temporary ceasefire of the war in exchange for Inoue," he divulged darkly and Toshiro's eyes widened dramatically, clearly shocked.
The young Captain focused on the scroll in Ichigo's hand hard as the information ran through his mind. It was several long, tense moments later before he asked with a grave intonation, "Who are you meant to deliver it to?"
"The Head Commander," Ichigo replied with equally stern eyes. "That's why I need to see Kisuke. I have no other choice," he said and watched as the Captain turned from him stiffly. His left hand swept aside the folds of his haori as his right reached behind him, lifting his Zanpakuto from its scabbard.
With swift precise motions, Ichigo looked on as Toshiro stabbed the sword forward, impaling the air before him. After turning the blade like a key, an intense brightness, whiter than the sun, cut through the dark cloak of the night and spread upwards into the sky.
"Come," Toshiro called firmly from over his shoulder as a pair of intricate shoji doors appeared in front of him, opening to a second set that parted to reveal the senkaimon. "I will escort you." His entire posture radiated a forced sense of calm, though his eyes betrayed the anger in him.
Without a word, Ichigo nodded and fell into step behind the shorter man as the wooden doors silently slid shut behind them.
A part of him was less than willing to go through with the delivery. Not strictly because he disagreed with their choices, as he had already come to the conclusion that he was helpless to their whims and desires; if they were so intent on using Inoue in their political slave trade, then there was clearly nothing Ichigo could do or say to dissuade them. However, he was still nervous at the prospect of entering Soul Society.
Would Rukia be there?
Would Renji?
Would he have to face them?
He wasn't sure if he could handle it. What if he got angry, what if he said hurtful things?
On the other hand, a part of him argued that he should just be irrational, as was his modus operandi. Unreasonable actions and foolishly brash decision making always had been his rapport with things of this nature. His logic, though admittedly flawed, demanded Ichigo to run to his friends where he could break them out of whatever surveillance they were locked under and rally them back into action until they caused such an uproar not even the Captains of the Gotei Thirteen would be capable of subduing them. Surely then, swathed in the chaos of the moment, they'd disappear and slip away to Hueco Mundo and liberate their captive companion.
Even the thought of such a thing was getting him fired up.
Yet…
Ichigo's eyes fell to the scroll held tightly in his hand. Captains were everywhere and they were going to be on higher alert with war going on, security would be tighter now than it ever had been before. If he attempted something like that and either of them were caught, they could face charges of treason…they could be sent off for execution.
He couldn't risk that, not with his friends.
Ichigo growled and shoved the offending document back into his pocket once more, glaring at the path ahead of him.
He may not have the power to control any of the events playing out around him, he may not even have the power to affect the direction of those events, either - but one thing was for sure.
Ichigo Kurosaki was going to get to Hueco Mundo one way or another, even if it was the last thing he ever did.
The last few days had passed by relatively quickly for Orihime. She had occupied most of her time with reading or journaling and even tried her hand at a few doodles brought about by fits of boredom. Wonderweiss had stayed by her side during the greater portion of her days and had succeeded in doing so without protest from Ulquiorra. However, just as much time as the young boy spent captivated by her company, he would frequently disappear from her room without warning or cause, leaving her in silence and solitude. Many times she had been in the middle of a conversation with him, only to turn her head and look back to find the flaxen haired youth gone.
Orihime sighed, wondering what could have been so fascinating for him to make such an abrupt exit from her room. He was one of the few people there that was capable of keeping her loneliness at bay. When he left, her days seemed to drag on a little bit longer.
"Ahh." The persistent voice interrupted her thoughts, craving her attention. Orihime glanced down and smiled at the sloppily drawn image of her hairpins the boy was currently holding up to her, urging for her praise and affection on a job well done.
"Hmm," Orihime hummed with a serious look in her eye as she brought the paper up for a proper evaluation. She turned the picture this way and that, assessing it with great scrutiny as she tapped her chin in deep concentration. "Wonderweiss-san, I must say, this picture is very, very…" She paused with a stern look, drawing out an anxious noise from the boy. "Beautiful," she finished with a sudden smile, chuckling softly at the look of relief on his freckled face.
Handing the image back to her young companion seated on the floor, Orihime stood from the sofa and ambled her way over to start making her bed. She had overslept that morning, needless to say, she'd been a little lazy in tidying up her room. As of late, she hadn't been sleeping well at all.
When the bed had first been delivered to her room, she had actually felt uncomfortable sleeping in it and had much preferred to stay on her couch where she had a clear view of the moon outside. Strangely enough, looking at that moon seemed to ebb the fear and loneliness in her. It gave her a remarkably comforting awareness that her friends were still out there somewhere, looking at the moon in the living world and thinking about her.
Fluffing her pillow distractedly, Orihime tossed the cushion to the head of her bed before finishing up with tucking her sheets under the mattress. She took a moment to glance at the window above her headboard. During her stay, she had learned that the moon was only visible through her window at certain times of the day as it made its journey across the Hueco Mundo sky, and now was not one of those times.
She was beginning to wonder just how long she would last tucked away in her prison cell.
After all, Aizen hadn't called on her but once during her entire stay, and that had been to show her the Hogyoku. Orihime was starting to think that had been nothing more than a farce. For if he had so desperately needed her to heal the damaged jewel, he would have set her to the task immediately…wouldn't he?
Or perhaps not.
Orihime's brows furrowed.
For Aizen to allow her such open and direct contact with the one thing that actually held value to him, he would have to truly believe her to be loyal to him, to trust him and believe in his cause. Something they both knew she was not. Orihime was neither loyal to him nor trusting of him.
Her eyes took a moment to wander around the surplus of gifts that had been sent to her. It was overkill, for sure. It was clear to her now that sending her such an overabundance of material goods was nothing more than a ploy to gain her cooperation. One attempt in a series of many that was sure to come.
Aside from the obvious, Orihime was now stuck in a situation that was more than a little complicated.
Somehow, she needed to make herself valuable to them. She knew that once the treaty lost its effectiveness, so would she. Not unless she somehow made herself useful, at least long enough until her friends came for her. There was nothing that she would love to resign herself to more than to reject the very existence of the wretched Hogyoku, but even Orihime knew how little her chances were of succeeding in that venture. Even if she somehow convinced Aizen that she was loyal and devoted, that particular avenue would only lead her to a dead end, considering even the tyrant's longest known allies and confidants were not trusted around the jewel.
With another distraught sigh, Orihime glanced down to her hands and frowned.
It looked like the only option she had was to offer Aizen and his army the only thing she'd ever been able to offer anyone; healing.
She couldn't fight in his war, she couldn't present enough power to make a difference and she certainly couldn't destroy the Hogyoku - there weren't enough stars in the sky to count the years it would have taken her to earn his trust to accomplish such a monumental task. Alas, unfortunately for her, Hueco Mundo didn't have stars.
When she noticed Wonderweiss becoming distracted by something in the hall, she glanced over, expecting to see Ulquiorra walk through her door. After several moments passed and nobody appeared, she stepped over to the door with Wonderweiss at her heel. She looked from one end of the corridor to the other, spotting nothing.
"What is it?" she asked when he suddenly turned his head, as if noticing something off to their right. A short time later, a faint noise echoed out from the same direction he had been looking. A noise that sounded very much like…a dog.
"Wait!" she called when Wonderweiss suddenly took off, leaving her behind.
Biting her lip, Orihime glanced back into her room apprehensively before abruptly throwing caution to the wind. "Wait for me!" she called excitedly as she rushed from the room, chasing after the boy with a thrilled smile on her face.
Orihime's feet very nearly slid out from under her when she reached the end of the hall, making a quick turn as she rounded the corner to catch up with him. Lifting her skirts, she hurried her pace as she watched the boy make another turn. At the intersection of the next hall, a breathless Orihime slid to a stop beside the young blonde as he glanced down each of the long corridors around them, looking for the ghostly animal.
Another bark and Orihime whipped her head around, smiling and giggling mirthfully as she tugged on Wonderweiss's sleeve and urged him to hurry. "It's over here!" she said quickly as she rushed to catch it. "Hurry, Wonderweiss-san!" She laughed again, teasing him to keep up. At the end of the next hall, the girl caught just the briefest glimpse of a small white tail, sending a surge of excitement through her heart at feeling she was close.
With cheeks red and chest heaving, Orihime took the next corner with agile steps. Her animated eyes remained glued to the floor, searching for the strange and elusive white dog that had avoided their every move.
"Yo! Ulquiorraa!" a deep, coarse voice called out from just ahead of her.
Orihime stumbled to a quick stop. She looked ahead of her just in time to see a large muscular form disappear around another wall, fading into the whiteness of Las Noches. She felt her heart leap up into her throat, beating faster than it already was as memories of that man attacking her, killing Shinigami and hurting Ichigo came to mind.
"Wonderweiss-san!" she whispered desperately as the boy finally caught up with her, only to heedlessly rush straight past her. "No!" she called, reaching out for him, but missing. Panic and concern for the boy pushed her feet forward until she reached the hall that he had taken. However, fear kept her legs frozen in place as she remained hidden behind the corner, reminding herself over and over that the boy was more than capable of taking care of himself. He'd already proven that several times over, hadn't he?
Still, Orihime held her clenched fist close to her heart, hoping that she was right in believing he would be fine without her.
"Ulquiorra!" She heard Yammy call again and she nearly cringed. His voice was so loud. "Damn it…bastard asks me to meet him here and he's nowhere to be found," he muttered gruffly. "Huh…? What are you doin' here, twerp?" She heard him say and her heart literally stalled when she heard Wonderweiss make a noise as he approached the bulky man.
Pressing her back tightly against the wall, Orihime inched her way over, peeking out from behind the edge. She bit her lip again as she saw both Wonderweiss and Yammy in the hall, as well as the white dog they had been chasing, hiding behind the larger man's leg.
"Daah," Wonderweiss intoned as he squatted down to try and reach for the animal, poking and pestering it.
"What the fuck are you saying?" Yammy growled irately and, after a stretch of time with no response, simply grumbled under his breath before he moved on. "So damned weird…" he sighed and turned to begin searching the halls once more, seemingly intent to ignore the boy.
"Daag," Wonderweiss said again and rushed forward under his legs to reach the dog, nearly tripping the large man up in the process.
"Cut it out," he ordered roughly. "What? You want this mutt?" The annoyance in his voice was thick and Orihime watched as, without much thought, Yammy cruelly kicked the animal over to the boy. "Take it, damn thing's annoying the shit out of me today," he said before turning and sauntering off, completely unaffected by the pained yelp the helpless creature had released.
Her eyes followed his figure for a long while, waiting to make sure he had left and would not return. When she glanced back at the boy, he was holding the dog away from him, inquisitively looking the animal over while it squirmed and fought to be free of his grasp.
Feeling that she had regained some sense of security, Orihime exhaled a deep relieved sigh and allowed the knot in her stomach to unwind. A small smile tugged at her lips as she turned away, only to immediately release a frightened gasp, pushing her back hard against the wall when she glanced up to see the familiar sight of piercing green eyes staring her down with unblinking severity.
Ulquiorra stood before her, not even a foot away, as she clutched her hand tighter to her chest. Her heart sputtered for a moment before nearly skipping a beat, completely startled by his sudden appearance.
"Ulquiorra," she began, nervously pressing her palm to her abdomen in an attempt to settle the sudden flurry of anxiety swirling in her stomach like butterflies.
"What are you doing out of your room?"
Orihime's eyes fell to the floor. She had scarcely been able to look him in the eye since that day and, now that he was in such close proximity, she found the task to be remarkably harder than what it really should have been.
"I was just…exploring a little," she admitted. Certainly, there was no lie she could ever concoct that would be able to successfully persuade him into believing otherwise. She really had no need for one, either. "I'm sorry if it's caused you trouble."
He was quiet for only a short time before his eyes glanced over to take in the scene of Wonderweiss sitting on the floor behind her, currently trying to eat the poor dog that had been trapped in his clutches. Orihime curiously followed the direction of his gaze and nearly balked in horror as she observed the young boy's untoward actions.
"Wonderweiss-san!" she chided. "You can't eat the dog!" She hurried over just in time to pull the animal's back feet from his mouth. Lifting the drenched canine before her, it's hindquarters soaked with saliva, she sighed and gazed down at the boy who was currently looking at her like he hadn't a clue as to what he'd done wrong.
"Woman," Ulquiorra said and Orihime turned, glancing at the man behind her. "Come, you have an appointment to attend," he ordered before walking away, setting off towards a new direction.
"An appointment?" Orihime questioned as she followed him. The girl blinked briefly, pausing, before she bent to deposit the small dog onto the ground upon remembering she still held it in her grasp. The animal quickly took to its freedom and ran off in the direction Yammy had left. "Where are we going?" she inquired, swiftly forgetting about all else as she fell into step behind him. Wonderweiss stared after her, dumbfounded, as the pair disappeared into the maze of Las Noches.
"Lord Aizen has arranged that you be examined by Szayelaporro Granz," he informed. "There are certain aspects of your power that still need to be studied."
"Szayelaporro?" Orihime thought to herself. A series of faces, most of which she still could not attach a name to, ran through mind. The only Espada she could accurately remember were the ones she had become personally familiar with. When the only mention of an appointment that she could clearly recall came to mind, reminding her of the strange rosette haired man that had looked at her like she was a laboratory animal to be used and dissected, Orihime nearly cringed. "What exactly is he going to do to me?" she questioned, her expression giving away her unease.
"I will not allow him to harm you, if that is what you are concerned about," he said, his voice lacking the sentiment one would normally expect to accompany such words.
"There are things that can be just as terrifying as being 'harmed', if not more so," she added as they made their way out of the fourth tower and crossed over a large bridge connecting them to the central dome. She became slightly distracted when they began approaching the sizable structure. It was large and imposing and no matter how many times she saw it, it never failed to impress her. Standing before it, her neck was fully craned back in effort to see the roof, but she could not.
"Then perhaps you should attempt to control those fears," he suggested, his statement holding no sympathy.
Orihime didn't get a chance to respond. When they entered into a cold, wide passageway, only to emerge on the other side surrounded by the innermost dome, Orihime nearly lost her breath as the familiar sensation of sunlight and warmth touched her face. The comforting rays that she had long pined for during her stay were now touching her skin and grazing over her lashes, brightening everything within sight and chasing away the shadows.
Orihime raced forward to the railing of the long balcony that framed the innards of the massive structure, stretching clear to the other side of the dome; a point so far away she couldn't even see the end. She looked up, gazing at the bright sky above her filled with blue hues so rich and deep she could scarcely believe she was in Hueco Mundo, her sole reminder being the rolling dunes and endless plains of sand far below her feet.
"It's…beautiful," she breathed in awe, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. She felt a breeze pull at her hair as radiant sunbeams she had missed more than she could imagine touched her smiling lips. "I thought there wasn't any sunlight in Hueco Mundo." Astonished, she turned to him with mystified eyes. "How…?" Orihime inquired, gazing at her warden as he stood patiently behind her.
"There is nothing real about it," he said as he looked up to the sky she seemed to be so fascinated by. "It is all manufactured light that Lord Aizen has fabricated through the use of the Hogyoku," he explained. "It is the only dome in Las Noches to possess such light, while the remaining towers were designed solely to withstand the harsh environment of Hueco Mundo."
Orihime chuckled.
"Is something amusing?" he asked.
Orihime shrugged softly as his eyes met hers. "It seems even the great Lord Aizen needs sunlight just as much as anyone else would," she said with a peculiar grin.
Ulquiorra was quiet for a moment as she continued to smile.
"Yes, I suppose he does," he finally answered flatly.
"It's all rather interesting if you think about it," she conversed as she turned and crossed her hands behind her back, leaning against the railing behind her for support. "After all, he is a Shinigami from Soul Society, where there is a sun and a moon; seasons…rain and life. Just as I am unaccustomed to such an environment as this, it would be equally difficult for someone of your kind to be thrust into a setting like my own world, where there is an overabundance of such things." She pondered over the topic.
No matter the circumstance, for one to be so completely adapted to a habitat void of anything but darkness and sand, only to be thrust into a world filled with light and sound and activity, surely that person would have a hard time acclimating. They would have just as many difficulties as she was having adapting in Hueco Mundo.
"I guess I find it a little ironic," she stated halfheartedly. "There he is, residing in a palace and building an entire world around himself to resemble the one he left behind."
"I suppose it is only natural," he said noncommittally as he came to stand beside her, gazing out into the distance.
"Yes…" she agreed a bit distractedly, looking down at her feet as she pondered over many different things, particularly her friends. Feeling that familiar heat of the sun had reminded her of them. It made her miss those bright, summer days and trips to the beach, where she'd get so much sand stuck in her clothes it would take her days to be rid of it all. They'd purchase popsicles from a vendor and rush to eat them before they melted…her brother had always liked the blandest flavors…
"You are thinking about your friends." She heard him state, rather than ask, from beside her.
"Yes." She nodded lightly. She was slightly surprised by how intuitive he seemed.
"You believe they are coming for you."
She smiled softly before looking up at him. Once again, she was taken aback by how vividly his eyes reflected her image. With the brilliance of the sun shining through them, it was so much easier to see all the beautiful specks and shimmers of emerald hidden in his eyes, only obscured by the occasional breeze that blew the onyx locks of his fringe between his brow.
"I know they're coming."
"You should give up on such nonsensical ideas," he advised before averting his gaze back to the sand coated desert. The slightest hint of reproach laced his tone.
Orihime laughed mildly. "They're not ideas," she stated with smiling assurance, holding her expression firmly in place to prove her point. "They're facts."
His eyes narrowed, staring out at some invisible point across the endless length of the dome.
"And this Ichigo Kurosaki…he is coming for you, as well?" he questioned quietly with eyes that were distant and somewhat hard.
"I…I suppose so," she replied, not knowing any other way to answer his question without embarrassing herself.
"You care for him, do you not?" he inquired stoically and Orihime quickly blushed, pulling her hands out from behind her back to begin nervously fretting with her fingers.
"I care for all my friends," she said and even though his gaze was directed elsewhere, she lowered her eyes, shying away from the topic.
"Do you believe he will come here because he cares for you?" he questioned again, making Orihime's blush deepen into a dark crimson red.
"Well, I…I don't…I mean…I'm not sure if he…" she rambled on, utterly failing to answer the question.
"Do you believe he would kill for you?"
Orihime's eyes shot up to the man just then, her eyebrows furrowing at the disturbing inquiry when she realized his questions had absolutely nothing to do with friendship. They had been posed in an entirely different tenor than what she had originally taken them for. His empty stare was gazing off into the distance over the sea of sand, completely detached from the emotional reactions she had been displaying.
"Ulquiorra?" she voiced with quiet hesitation, slowly coming to the realization that his queries had mostly been centered around Ichigo. When his eyes darted away from the sand dunes of the desert and landed on hers, as if being pulled from his thoughts, Orihime offered a small smile, deciding it was best to answer his question honestly, regardless of his intentions. "I would never ask my friends to kill for me," she said with calm resolve.
It seemed like several minutes had passed between them as his gaze remained locked on hers; him facing the ocean of sand, her leaning back against the railing. Close enough their shoulders could almost touch. When another gentle gust of wind picked up and wove the sun through her hair in a gradient of reds and gingers, his eyes fell to her lips as a lock of auburn hair played across them in a lazy caress.
"Ulquiorra?" she called again and he watched, slightly fascinated, by the way those rosy pink lips formed his name.
Abruptly, he looked away. "It would be best that you forget about your friends, they no longer serve any function in your life," he said quietly as he turned from her and began resuming their trek to the other side of the dome. "Come, we have a tight schedule to keep."
With a confused tilt of her head, Orihime pushed away from the railing and moved to follow him.
It was a long, arduous trip across the causeway that stretched from one end of the dome to the other, but Orihime could hardly complain. She had needed the exercise and it was equally nice to enjoy some fresh air. When they reached the other side, they exited through another archway that was similar in style to the one they had entered through. Coming out on the other end, Orihime looked up to see that the dark sky of Hueco Mundo had once more replaced the bright and sunny atmosphere above them.
"Where are we going?" she queried as they continued along, following a new path that seemed to be leading to yet another tower that sat on the periphery of the dome.
"The eighth tower," he answered as they approached the massive structure ahead of them that jutted out from the white sands of Hueco Mundo like a monument. It would appear the shortest route from one tower to another was to cut straight through the citadel, otherwise, one would have to venture around the entire perimeter of Las Noches.
When they approached the large gates leading into the fortress, Orihime straightened her posture and toughened her resolve as she watched the doors begin to slowly creak open upon their approach, summoning them forward into the strange darkness. Standing in the entrance, waiting for her with a wicked smile upon his face, was the rosette haired man she recalled from the conference.
"Ah, welcome to the eighth tower, honored guest," he greeted smoothly, never taking his eyes off her form. "Please, do come in…"
Ulquiorra wondered if such fanciful whims were beginning to become a habit for the girl. One day, she would seemingly be so offended by his presence to the point she could hardly stand to look at him, only to forgive him the very next. Several times she had already followed this senseless pattern. Her ups and downs had fluctuated radically since the first night he had absconded with her, apparently feeling the need to apologize for calling him 'horrible', yet by that very same night she had slapped him so hard her hand had turned red.
Then yet again, after the incident of the meeting, she forgave him only to immediately recant her apologies the moment he made it clear that he wasn't there to play emotional games with her.
As it stood now, one could hardly peel her from his person. So frightened was she by the eighth Espada, Szayelaporro Granz, that it would seem she found some measure of refuge in hiding behind his back while the bespectacled scientist tried to coax her out like an impatient nanny.
After several minutes with absolutely no success, Szayel sighed and looked to Ulquiorra in annoyance. "Do you think you could at least try to help?" he petitioned irritably as he reached up to rub the bridge of his nose.
"Woman," Ulquiorra ordered over his shoulder, staring her down from the corner of his eye with a strict glare.
Apparently, he needn't say another word as she cast him an accusatory and displeased look before hesitantly reaching out to take the hand Szayel had offered her.
"There we go, madam," he praised while cajoling her forward. Orihime frowned a little, finding the man's words to be highly pretentious and not at all polite. "If you would please just step this way and have a seat here." He guided her further into his laboratory.
Ulquiorra watched as he led her away, soothing her with falsely comforting words that seemed to lose all their effect the moment he pulled a large syringe out from his pocket. The girl's eyes seemed to widen to twice their size before all color drained from her features. Giving in to a sigh, he glanced away, hoping this wasn't going to take too long.
With nothing else to do with his time, his thoughts began to wander, mulling over the strange reaction, or rather lack thereof, that Ichigo Kurosaki had given him several days ago.
Ulquiorra had fully expected the boy would have charged at him and demand retribution in the name of honor and amity, or whatever it was that these humans seem to hold in such high regard, but he didn't. Like the girl had done before him, Ichigo Kurosaki had surprised Ulquiorra by doing the exact opposite of what he'd predicted. Such an occurrence was not only highly unusual, it was also immensely irritating. Ulquiorra had always been accurate in gauging such factors.
Despite that small miscalculation, there was a strange unseen part of himself that wanted the boy to fight him, even if it wasn't what Aizen had sent him to do. Ulquiorra needed to gain a clear understanding of the boy's strength - and the only way to achieve this was through a direct attack from the young human. Had he made a mistake? Ulquiorra frowned at the thought. He had assumed Ichigo Kurosaki was of such little consequence that he found it ridiculous his name had ever been an issue to begin with. However, what he had been correct in surmising was that it had not been the boy's direct displays of strength that were the threat, but his rate of growth.
Even though Grimmjow had broken direct orders and entered the mortal realm in search of a confrontation with the boy, his actions had offered some insight into just how far his power had progressed.
From the point he and Yammy had been sent to observe the boy, to the short time later that Grimmjow confronted him not only once, but twice when Ulquiorra brought him along to fetch the girl, most humans would have failed to expand their power any, if at all, during such a narrow period. However, with the boy, there was much to be learned. Between those three incidents, Ichigo Kurosaki had apparently gained enough power to fight toe to toe with Grimmjow, even if only briefly.
Strangely enough, from what Ulquiorra had gathered from the sexta Espada's reports, Ichigo Kurosaki had remarkably acquired some new form of strength that he did not have the last time he'd fought with them - a type of power that had, apparently, lasted for naught but a few seconds.
Still, those few seconds spoke volumes to Ulquiorra. It proved he was right in presuming the true menace of Ichigo Kurosaki lay in just how fast he was capable of pushing the limits of his power to new levels. Because of this, Ulquiorra needed a way to wrap his fingers around his brain and figure out what it was that made the young man tick.
He recalled how outraged he seemed to become at the simple mentioning of the woman's name. It had been the only rise he'd gotten out of him that hadn't been deliberately provoked. Just as adamantly, when it seemed his female companion was going to be crushed by the momentary upsurge of his reiatsu, the boy had quite literally lost his cool and finally drew his sword.
Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed as he pondered over this.
The woman had ceaselessly chattered and twittered on about the extraordinary wonders of her undefeatable companions and just as fervently sang the praises of the perfect and God-like Kurosaki-kun. No matter the woman's disillusioned ramblings, one thing was clear; they all believed themselves to be a part of some ridiculous interwoven connection that the woman affectionately referred to as, 'the heart'.
This heart seemed more than nonsensical, but despite the illogicalness of it Ulquiorra knew the concept of this intangible bond held some sort of value to her and, because of this, he began to wonder if through her, he could somehow influence the behavior of Ichigo Kurosaki.
Could he anger him? Could he break him?
Just as well, he had already seen proof that the woman could be controlled through the simple threat of harming her friends. Likely, the scenario would succeed in working both ways.
Getting close to the girl and allowing her to believe that he, in some way, cared for her was likely to be the best approach. She had already mistaken many of the actions he'd taken towards her as kindness. Frankly, he had scarcely been bothered to worry about what she thought of him and even though he had previously entertained the notion of allowing her to believe he actually cared for her, if only for the sake of making his job easier and even touching on his own dark personal amusement, Ulquiorra simply did not have the time to deal with the emotional demands of a human female during the war.
He had already laid out the ground rules to the woman when she had attempted to become familiar with him, and it had seemed to do little in deterring her efforts to become friendly. She would still smile at him, chat with him, and even offer an occasional blush that, more often than not, seemed to come out of absolutely nowhere. Although it had taken her quite a while to meet his eyes after the day he'd, in so many words, coldly told her to keep her emotions to herself, it had accomplished nothing to stop her and her attempts to create that social bond between them…a 'heart'.
Ulquiorra's thoughts were sharply cut short by the loud clattering of a metal tray falling to the floor behind him, sending tools and laboratory equipment scattering everywhere. The noise had created such a ruckus that several of Szayel's fraccion stopped their routines to glance at the scene before quickly turning away and going back to work, their curiosity sated.
The pale man's eyes fell to the sight of the rosette haired scientist slamming his palm against the counter in aggravation as he leaned over the girl. Swallowing hard, she pressed her back against the large industrial sized workbench behind her and clutched something tightly to her breast, holding it close in an attempt to keep it safe.
"Just let me see it, girl," Szayel nearly hissed, clearly trying to keep his calm. "I'm just going to do a brief examination, I'll give it right back," he said and began to reach for the object once more, only to have the girl shake her head and hold it closer.
"What is the problem?" Ulquiorra asked as he approached the pair, intent to put an end to the ridiculous display.
"This…this girl won't allow me to examine her barrettes. The obstinate little-" He cut himself off with restrained fury, immediately stopping to gather his wits. "Rather, the lady is opposed to me taking it apart to study the source of her power," he rephrased with forced composure.
Ulquiorra glanced at the girl, her eyes were wide and somewhat desperate as he waited for an explanation from her.
"I can't," she said pleadingly. "My brother gave them to me, I can't let him break them." She shook her head frantically, denying them access to her precious fairies.
Ulquiorra continued to stare at her for a moment longer and, without bothering to take his eyes off the girl, calmly asked Szayel, "Is it necessary for the analysis?" He watched as Orihime's eyes grew wide and distressed at his words.
"Anything relative to the girl is imperative to the results," Szayel answered stiffly before several seconds of silence ensued.
"Leave her be," Ulquiorra finally said. "Let her keep them."
"You are spoiling her!" Szayel suddenly raged, his palm landing against the counter with more force.
"I said, leave her be," Ulquiorra repeated with quiet finality, glaring at the taller Espada from the corner of his eye.
Szayel's brow furrowed as he glowered at the man from behind a façade that he was straining to keep composed. "One of these days, Ulquiorra, I'm going to get the chance to string you up in my lab like a rat," he said before leaning down slightly. "And when that happens, you will be begging me for death," he intoned quietly before offering a crooked smile and turning away. "One of these days…" he trailed off as he walked away, chuckling sadistically.
From beside him, Orihime sighed as they continued to watch the bespectacled man saunter off. Relief flooded her body as she finally allowed herself to relax. "Thank you-" she began, but was interrupted by Ulquiorra's hushed voice.
"What happened to your arm?" he inquired abruptly and waited until Szayel had fully left the lab before glancing back at her.
"My arm?" she repeated perplexedly, looking down at the pale limbs that had been bared after Szayel had requested her jacket to be removed in order for him to draw blood. She glimpsed at the small tracks that had been left by his needles, assuming it to be what Ulquiorra had been referring to, before suddenly gasping when she felt the frigid coldness of his hand gently wrapping itself just below her shoulder.
"Who did this?" he asked again, his grip angling her slightly as he took in the sight of the massive purple and blue bruise that covered her flesh nearly from elbow to shoulder.
"Oh, that…i-it's nothing really," she stuttered, feeling distracted by the near glacial bite of his fingers. She had felt his hand on her before, but usually through the thickness of a sweater or her uniform, never so fully on her bare skin. Other than the faint graze of his fingertip on her collarbone, it was the most direct contact she'd shared with him thus far. Scarcely could she recall feeling any living thing with flesh as bitterly cold as his.
Wonderweiss was cold. Grimmjow was cold. Szayel, when he had drawn her blood, was cold. All the Arrancar she had encountered were cold. But Ulquiorra…Ulquiorra was downright frigid.
Was that…normal?
Yet, even as he turned her arm once again to scrutinize the nasty contusion, she marveled at how remarkably tempered his grip was. It was nothing like the merciless hold that had caused the injury in the first place. His touch was gentle and careful, almost cautious.
When he released the abused limb and moved away, heading for the door, Orihime snapped back to attention as she raced after him, a dreadful feeling sinking into her gut.
"Wait, where are you going?" she asked hastily, trying to catch up with him.
"It would seem as if I need to have a brief discussion with Grimmjow," he stated calmly. The size of the bruise, as well as the hints of claw marks, gave away the offender without doubt.
"What are you going to do to him?" Orihime rushed forward to block his path. "You're not going to hurt him, are you?" she probed with wide, concerned eyes.
"Does such a thought trouble you?" he inquired coldly, standing before her with his hands resting casually in his pockets. "Does it grieve you to know that he will be held accountable for your mistake?"
Orihime faltered for a moment, struggling to find the words to rebuff his sharply reproachful censures. Her mistake? She couldn't have stopped Grimmjow from entering her room if she had tried.
"Please, it was my fault, I should have listened to you," she implored, trying to take all the blame. She really didn't want to be making any more waves in Hueco Mundo than she already had, and she seemed to have found a sort of unexpected companion in Grimmjow. She didn't want to ruin any potential that held. "He didn't mean anything by it, it was just an accident."
"You will stay here until I return," he stated dryly as he stepped around her, indifferent to her efforts to dissuade him, before he paused to remind her with a stern glance, "And this time, you will do as you're told." The slightest edge had been added in his inflection, as if to give voice to his displeasure, not that it wasn't apparent already. Orihime lowered her head in defeat as she listened to his footsteps fading further and further away from her. His stride was smooth and evenly paced as he made his way to the other side of the laboratory, heading for the exit.
After a stretch of silence, she heard the large door close behind him. Her lips pressed themselves into a small, nervous frown as a twinge of trepidation gripped her chest. There was a part of her that erupted in a fit of frustration and annoyance, tired of being helpless to his callous orders. While another part of her quietly gave in and submitted, too afraid of causing more problems for the few friends she had made in Las Noches.
Turning sharply on her heel, Orihime picked up her jacket and gave one last brief glance to the door, hoping that he would prove her fears wrong.
It wasn't hard for Ulquiorra to track down Grimmjow. With the woman currently out of the fourth tower and strutting around Las Noches like an enticing piece of meat, he could already sense several of the Espada closing in on the laboratory like a swarm of sharks, lured by her presence.
Grimmjow had gained the most ground in the shortest amount of time, and just as well, he was the closest to reaching the eighth tower. When Ulquiorra had spotted the man, he'd been strolling along the wide footpath that connected the central dome to the eighth tower.
Ulquiorra had stood patiently, waiting in the center of the pathway as the taller man continued to saunter forward. The arrogant smirk on his roguish face only seemed to grow in size and attitude the closer he got, whilst his blue eyes glared directly into the toxic green of Ulquiorra's stare.
It was eerily silent when the larger man came to a halt several feet away, yet it was only seconds before his grin suddenly erupted into a large, wicked smile that flashed his dangerously sharp teeth. His loud laugh echoed off the pillars that supported the tall awning overhead and reverberated outwards over the motionless sand dunes that blanketed the grounds of Las Noches.
With just one glance, Grimmjow could tell - he knew he'd finally done something to properly piss the pale man off.
"Well, well, well," Grimmjow chuckled merrily, wondering sarcastically if this could top the joy he'd felt when he killed Luppi. "What do I owe the pleasure, Ulquiorra?" He could already feel his pulse begin to increase at the mere prospect of fighting him. A muscle in his arm twitched excitedly before Grimmjow quickly settled himself against the temptation, anxious to feel the satisfaction of sinking his claws into him. The hell if he knew what he'd done to prompt this confrontation into action, but going by the dark look in Ulquiorra's eye, he'd clearly succeeded in doing it well.
"I knew you couldn't resist me for long," he remarked suggestively even as Ulquiorra stayed silent. "Everybody wants a piece of this, eventually." He smirked as he reached down to lewdly adjust himself. "It was only a matter of time before you grew some balls and got over that disgusting cowardice of yours."
Ulquiorra remained unmoved as he continued to stare at the man before him, unblinking and quiet.
"So, how do you wanna take it?" Grimmjow chuckled again. "I always did peg you as the bitch type."
Grimmjow's wide grin began to slowly fade when Ulquiorra's blank expression proved utterly unaffected by his taunts. After several more seconds of silence, his condescending smirk dipped into a low frown as he glared at the smaller man, sick of his stillness and lack of articulation.
"What the fuck's your problem, you spineless little shi-" Grimmjow suddenly released a loud hiss as a cold hand wrapped tightly around his upper arm from behind, holding him firmly in place. With his sword arm effectively immobilized, Grimmjow instantly reached with his left hand for his Zanpakuto, only to have the unmerciful grasp of Ulquiorra's icy fingers trap his wrist in place, locking it by his hip and restricting any possibility he had of moving his arms.
He may have been an unrepentant apathetic bastard, but he was a fast unrepentant apathetic bastard.
"Damn it…" Grimmjow bit out lowly as he tried to jerk his arms away, but they were locked against the overpowering brace of his opponent, completely incapacitated at his sides and held securely in place by the unrelenting and painful clutches of Ulquiorra's skeletal and merciless fingers. "You rotten piece of shit," he growled over his shoulder, glaring at the man from the corner of his eye with a vicious snarl.
"You will leave the woman alone," Ulquiorra informed bluntly as his grip remained steadfast and firm.
Grimmjow suddenly laughed. "That's what this is about?" He sneered contemptuously. "Why don't you let go of my arm, Ulquiorra," he dared derisively. "Let's see how tough you are then…"
Grimmjow had to grit his teeth and hold back another snarl as the pressure on his upper arm suddenly tightened harshly, boring in like bands of steel rods gouging through his flesh. Ulquiorra was making it a point to damage his arm in much the same manner that he had done to the girl, but so much worse.
"The next time you set foot in that room," Ulquiorra said coldly, his fingers gradually sinking into the meat of his muscle. "I will make sure even the woman will be unable to piece your corpse back together by the time I am through."
"Fuck…you…" Grimmjow ground out as he felt the warm rush of blood trailing down his elbow. It soaked through his uniform and dripped to the cement below when Ulquiorra's fingers broke through several layers of tendons and dug deep into the muscle of his bicep before touching bone.
When there was an abrupt release in pressure, Grimmjow whipped around, ready to pull his sword on the shorter man and cleave him in two.
"Leave," Ulquiorra's calm voice ordered, sounding out from the completely opposite end of the walkway, far from Grimmjow's reach. "I will not allow you to see the girl, you are simply wasting your time here," he said as he strode away, heading back into the eighth tower and refusing to fight him. Grimmjow nearly saw red as contempt quickly filled whatever remaining ounces of rational behavior he'd had left. Ulquiorra utterly infuriated him with that pompous attitude of his.
"Get back here you gutless coward!" Grimmjow roared out, demanding satisfaction. "Don't think you're getting out of this that easily!"
"Getting out of what, Grimmjow?" a smooth voice inquired from behind him.
The blue haired man spun around, a vicious scowl on his face as he came eye to eye with Aizen Sosuke himself, smiling down on him as if he were intensely interested in hearing his answer. Grimmjow's eyes widened, shocked that the man had snuck up on him so easily and had seemingly appeared from nowhere.
He felt his anger reach a new high as he realized his chance to destroy the fourth Espada had once again been ripped right out from under him like so many other times before. He'd been robbed of his opportunity to settle the score.
He'd been cheated.
"Is something the matter, Grimmjow?" Aizen asked calmly, though his eyes narrowed in on him with that sinister gleam shining in them. Grimmjow knew all too well what would happen if he continued in his endeavor to fight the pale man.
"It's nothing," he spat out irately, completely turning from them before stalking off in the direction from whence he had come.
Aizen's smiling eyes watched after him briefly as he moved by, chuckling at his subordinate and his fiery temper.
"Is there something I can do for you, Lord Aizen?" Ulquiorra questioned as the brunette approached the large gateway leading to the eighth tower.
"Don't mind my presence," Aizen said casually as he passed. "I'm just here to attend to some business I have with Szayel and follow up on his findings of Miss Inoue." Ulquiorra's green eyes followed the man as he disappeared into a large turret, waiting a respectable amount of time before leaving the scene. When he arrived back in the laboratory, Orihime wasted not a moment as she rushed up to him, her eyes filled with worry and concern.
"Come," he said, hoping to avoid any further confrontation with the other Espada. Be it out of boredom or curiosity, he could sense them fast closing in on their location. Nnoitra was certain to be on top of them within minutes if he didn't get her out of there soon. "It's time to go."
Instead of following, her soulful brown eyes fell to his hand buried in his pocket, where she could see the dark crimson of blood staining the sleeve of his jacket.
"What did you do to him?" she questioned with wide eyes, believing the worst. He watched as those eyes actually began to water when he remained silent.
When a brief flicker of accusation flashed across her face, Ulquiorra felt his patience with the situation run thin.
"It would seem as if you are forgetting," he began softly as his hand reached up with measured purpose to touch her arm. "That I am not the one who did this to you." His knuckles deftly grazed over the bruise hidden under her jacket. Orihime's lips parted on a short gasp as those long, thin fingers suddenly wrapped around her arm and gave it a sufficient squeeze, tempered enough not to cause her pain, but strong enough to remind her who had given it to her in the first place.
Her eyes lowered to the ground as a faint, delicate blush fanned over her cheeks when she felt him start to pull her closer, daring her to even try and suggest that he had been the one to wrong her. "The next time you feel the urge to disobey my orders," he said as he abruptly jerked her closer, whispering with a dangerous hush against her ear and taking dark delight in the uncontrollable shiver that his presence seemed to elicit from the girl. "He will not be the only one to pay the price," he stressed slowly, making sure she understood the severity of his words. "Do you understand what I am implying?"
Orihime closed her eyes and bit her lip, trying to silence the wispy noise that had erupted in the back of her throat when she felt his cold lips brush a tender spot just below her ear. Her heart raced inside her chest in a confusing mixture of fear and desire as he finally began to ease away, relinquishing his hold over her.
She took in a quick, deep breath, absorbing a lungful of air that the room had seemed to be so desperately lacking only seconds prior.
Ulquiorra knew he needn't say a word more as he turned from her and headed for the door. He could hear her hesitant and light footsteps following along behind him, careful to keep a healthy distance between them.
Perhaps she would learn over time that it would be best for her to simply do as she was told, rather than deliberately rebelling against his orders and defying commands that he gave for the specific purpose of keeping her alive. All of which were efforts that she seemed to be sabotaging at every turn.
Ulquiorra glanced at her from over his shoulder. Her hands were clasped together tightly and her eyes were kept low and reserved. Trailing behind him, her gait was steady, but slow and graceful.
His eyes suddenly fell to the swell of her hips, watching the way they curved and swayed with her movements, straining against the elasticity of her uniform.
Ulquiorra had dealt with a great many things in his time, he thought as he slowly dragged his eyes away. Controlling a frail human female was not going to become an issue for him now…he'd make sure of it.
Grimmjow's eyes narrowed as he watched the scene play out before him. Something akin to jealousy planted itself deep within him as he observed the way they acted around one another. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he turned away and sauntered off, trying to regain his cool.
He'd been stupid enough to try and approach her again after all that bullshit, but when he saw her acting so distraught at the mere prospect that he had somehow met his end at Ulquiorra's hand, something had…stalled in him.
Then it just pissed him off.
After all, he'd treated her like shit. He'd hurt her.
The hell if he understood why he always lost himself to his fits of anger, and the hell if he understood why she seemed so forgiving of him…nobody had been so forgiving of him.
Grimmjow's brow furrowed as his frown deepened and a sour taste filled his mouth.
He could easily come to hate that woman.
Resentment filled his core when he saw the reaction she had provoked in Ulquiorra without even trying, a reaction that she'd succeeded in producing after a mere glare and few well placed words. Grimmjow had failed to evoke even a smidgen of that same intensity from Ulquiorra after endless years of unsuccessful attempts to rile and vex him into a fight. All of which she had achieved with naught but a single, blushing glance.
When Grimmjow suddenly felt Ulquiorra's presence heading in a foreign direction, guiding her down a route that led away from the fourth tower, rather than to it, his blue eyes glanced behind him once more, curious to their destination.
Where was he taking her? he thought with narrowed eyes.
As he sensed them making another turn, Grimmjow's smirk slowly slinked back across his face, realizing they were heading straight for the main arena. Turning back and retracing his steps, Grimmjow gave in to his gut curiosity and followed after them, certain that one way or another, he was going to at least get some entertainment out of the day.
..
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TBC
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