..
…
CHAPTER 7
…
..
"You…you're going to train me?" Orihime blinked curiously at the pale man before her. Perhaps she had heard wrong? Still, she felt absurdly nervous under his daunting stare as he slowly circled her, scrutinizing every crevice and curve of her body, seeking out her every strength and weakness with naught but his eyes. She could feel his reiatsu browsing over her from every angle, peering deeper into parts of her that the eye could not see.
"This is not training," he corrected as he stepped closer. The strictly clinical, yet profoundly intense dissection of her by his eyes forced the girl to lift her arms in an attempt to cover herself. She felt as if he were going to reach inside her and pull her apart piece by piece, prying her skin away and delving into parts of her that he should never be able to touch, let alone see. "We are going to fix you."
"Fix?" she repeated unsurely. "I'm not broken." The words were meant to reassure herself.
"You are a ward of the Espada now," he droned coldly. Leaving a single hand pocketed, his other went to work on her insecure stance and pulled her arms away from her chest. "It is time you start acting as such." His motions were smooth and precise as he continued to stalk around her, his hand occasionally straightening her back, adjusting her hips and forcing her to lift her head whenever he saw something in her posture he didn't like. "In order for you to adequately serve your master, it is only fitting that your mind be expunged of all previous misconceptions and notions of weakness that have poisoned both your mind and body," he finished monotonously when he came to a halt directly in front of her.
Orihime bit her lip as a sense of vulnerability sank into her. He was staring her down with his taciturn eyes and inanimate expression and it was really starting to wear on her how she could never tell what he was thinking when he looked at her like that. "I…I don't know if I can," she intoned self-consciously, her eyes dropping to the floor. Just what exactly did he want her to do, anyways?
"Orihime Inoue," he voiced stringently and her eyes immediately rose back to him. "You belong to Aizen Sosuke. What you can and cannot do is solely for him to decide." He kept his hands secured in his pockets as she continued to stare up at him with wide, unblinking eyes, even as his remained stern and hard. "Tell me, who is your master?"
The girl hesitated for a moment before lowering her head again. Instantaneously, she could literally feel his eyes narrowing in on her from displeasure at the action. Pressing her arms tighter to her sides, she brought herself back to attention.
"Who is your master?" he repeated again and Orihime eyed him tentatively. He appeared so reserved and aloof, but she knew by the severity of his tone and the extra coldness in his eyes that he was not to be trifled with. He demanded eye contact, he drilled her with his words and she had learned from past experiences that he would admonish her for not giving in to the answers he wanted to hear.
"Lord Aizen…" Orihime submitted quietly, finding it extremely difficult to declare such a thing aloud. It felt wrong, and even worse to have to proclaim such allegiances whilst being mandated to look someone in the eye. The action was a type of cement and he knew it. It was a psychosomatic tactic that worked to exploit her humanity, forcing her to feel like those words were factual and self-imposed, rather than something that, in truth, had been coerced from her.
"What is your purpose?"
Orihime wavered again. She did not know the words he wanted her to say and, just as well, she did not want to say them, no matter what they may be.
"Your purpose is to serve," he answered for her when he sensed her faltering. "Everything that you are means nothing if it does not please your master." He took a step closer, digging into her with his eyes. "In order to serve, you must cast aside all weakness. Friends are weakness. Bonds are weakness. Hearts are weakness," he stated dispassionately. "Weakness is death. To permit these things and place them above your master is a disgrace."
Orihime felt a strange gnawing in the pit of her stomach at the thought of renouncing her friends. Her camaraderie with those around her had always been the basis of her life. It had been what kept her going in times of sorrow and despair. She had never fully lived for herself, as she always had and always would place them above herself for as long as she remained capable. It had forever made her want to get stronger, not weaker. So, why would anyone ever want to isolate themselves from the happiness that friendship could give? If it brought love and the desire to strengthen oneself, for what purpose would discarding it serve?
"What is your purpose?" he asked once more and her lips moved, but then paused. She did not like the idea of forsaking friendship, but she knew that in some way she had to remain functional to Aizen and his army. She had to keep herself practical and positive. To continue to fight against them in every small endeavor would be unreasonable and even unintelligent, considering her very life, as well as her friends lives, could be put at risk should she happen to refuse them the wrong thing. Undoubtedly, over time, they would become less and less willing to tolerate her resistance.
Even if she verbally surrendered herself, certainly her heart would always keep the truth safe and secure, far from Ulquiorra's reach.
"To serve…Lord Aizen," she finally intoned quietly, completely unable to escape his direct stare.
Apparently pleased with her answer, his cold eyes lifted from her and he stepped away.
"Draw out your shield," he ordered abruptly, causing the girl to tilt her head in a questioning glance.
"My shield?" she echoed and then watched his eyes narrow slightly, clearly not wanting to repeat himself. Swallowing nervously, Orihime quickly erected the golden sheath without delay. Instantly, his arm lifted and shattered the glowing screen beside him effortlessly. Orihime gasped and took a step back, eying the pale man uncertainly.
"This is the last time you will use this shield in any capacity outside of Lord Aizen's name," he spoke evenly as his eyes regarded her with an unapologetic luster. "You do not rely on others for strength. You do not rely on them for protection. You will only give these things to yourself and to your master. You will be self-reliant and dependent on no one." His voice left no room for argument.
"But…" she began, then faltered. Bringing a hand up to cover her heart, she turned her head slightly and lowered her eyes to the floor. In truth, though his cold words did not sit entirely well with her, they did contain a seed of wisdom. For her to be wholly self-sufficient and no longer require the constant protection and coddling of her friends was a feeling she had yearned to know for quite some time. With a forlorn sigh, she closed her eyes and dropped her hand from her chest, clasping it tightly together with its companion against her abdomen. "I'm afraid I'm unequipped for that, Ulquiorra," she admitted honestly. "Although I do wish for some of these things, my strength does not equal that of others." She specifically remembered how Kisuke had unexpectedly pulled her from the fight, banishing her from participating in the war due to her weaknesses.
Oh, how that had hurt her…
"Even if I was, I could never discard my friends, even for the sake of power. My heart wouldn't be able to bear it," she explained before finally raising her gaze back to his. "I've only desired strength to keep my friends safe. But, if I no longer had them by my side, I would be alone…there is no purpose in power if you have nothing to protect."
He was silent for a long while after, staring at her with somber and unreadable eyes. Feeling nervous under his gaze, she reached over and gripped her elbow as she shifted her weight onto her other leg, looking anywhere but at him.
From the other side of the large arena, a powerful presence slowly started to move in closer, filling the space with their reiatsu. Glancing over, Orihime's eyes widened in shock when a massive silhouette appeared in the space of the stadium's entryway, nearly blocking out the entire region of the opening. Taking a step back, she watched as the dark skinned, muscular male that she vaguely remembered as 'Yammy' stalked through the doorway.
"Yo, Ulquiorra!" he called out roughly as a frown spread across his mouth. "What the fuck's with you?" he yelled angrily. "You told me to meet you at the tower and then bail on me? You said you wanted me to fight someone, what's goin' on?"
Orihime had a terrible sense of foreboding in that instance and quickly began to send out silent prayers, hoping that Ulquiorra wasn't going to make her do what she believed he would.
"You say that strength only comes from the desire to protect," he reiterated her words quietly as Yammy continued to approach them from halfway across the stadium. Her eyes tore themselves away from the sizable man and returned to Ulquiorra. She stood tensely as she watched him from her peripheral slowly begin to circle around to her side once more, boring into her with the cold edge of his gaze. "You recall your encounter with Yammy in the world of the living," he intoned and when he heard no rebuttal from her, he continued. "Ichigo Kurosaki attempted to fight him, did he not?"
Orihime's eyes suddenly lowered to the ground. She shook her head and reached up to press her knuckle tight against her lips as tears began to quickly sting at her eyes when she realized exactly where he was going with those words.
"You say friendship is the only thing that enables others to survive…yet, when Ichigo Kurosaki tried to protect you with this 'friendship' you speak of-"
"Please, don't." She shuddered and felt her chest straining.
"He ordered you to stay away, to remain out of the battle because he knew you were weak," he continued as his slow steps sauntered around behind her. Apathetically, he studied the girl and her sudden display of inadequacy brought on by the simple mentioning of the boy's name. "But you ignored him in favor of upholding the standard of your precious beliefs in friendship…tell me, woman, what happened to Ichigo Kurosaki when you offered him the protection of your friendship?"
She immediately turned away when he came around the side of her, averting her eyes so he wouldn't see her tears. She refused to feed into his criticism.
"Ichigo Kurosaki nearly died because of your interference. He became weak and useless as his attention was diverted away from the enemy and forced onto you and your meddling intrusion. He lost control of his power and became ineffective." He recounted the short battle slowly, watching her every reaction closely. "Ichigo Kurosaki was not empowered by your heart…he was weakened by it," he said as he stopped before her, challenging her to look him in the eye. "That is the power of the heart, woman. It is only natural that failure becomes inevitable when one places their faith into something that does not exist."
Orihime's heart ached terribly, but when she felt his hand suddenly at her temple, her eyes shot up to his in confusion. "Ulquiorra?" she breathed softly at the sensation of his cold fingers brushing back her hair, only to nimbly wrap around the small barrettes there. Slowly, he tugged them free of her titan strands as her eyes questioned him.
"You will not call out for Ichigo Kurosaki," he stated coldly as he turned from her and began to walk away, tucking the barrettes into his pocket. "You will not call out for your friends." Orihime's eyes were wide and disbelieving as she watched him leave her, her arms trembling slightly at her sides when she sensed the large, ominous shadow of Yammy slowly gliding over her form. "You will not call out for me." Her watery brown eyes suddenly dilated when she set her sights on the bulky man coming up behind her, his smile slowly widening. "You will fight him…and you will win at any cost."
Her gaze shot back to Ulquiorra, feeling strangely hurt and abandoned by him as she watched his back moving away from her, utterly unemotional.
"Yammy, do with her as you will," he ordered coldly and the larger man chuckled.
"Sounds fun…" Yammy said darkly.
"No, wait!" Orihime cried, reaching out for him when he suddenly disappeared from sight. She had little time to cry out another plea to him before a massive fist abruptly slammed down beside her with mighty strength, shaking her entire world and forcing her to her knees. Orihime shrieked as rubble and dust clouded her vision and choked her lungs.
"He's gone, bitch," Yammy intoned angrily, as if he were offended she was not interested in fighting him. "I'm your opponent, fight me!" he demanded. He had come there with the promise of a good fight and after being blatantly stood up by Ulquiorra early that day, he was ready to take some of his frustrations out on the girl.
Orihime's legs were shaking so badly she couldn't stand. She looked up to the large man in a panic, hoping that perhaps he may listen to reason. "Please, I don't want to fight you!" She tried to negotiate, only to release another screech as his fist came down on her again. She had barely managed to stumble out of the way when, this time, his fist would have come down directly on top of her. He had been ready to take her life.
Blessed be her luck, as he was so huge that he was just slow enough to allow her time to dodge.
"You think you're too good to fight me or something?" the large man bellowed.
With the ground shaking under her very legs, Orihime lost what little balance she had attained and landed once more on the floor. Her lungs heaved out a heavy cough as dust filled her airways and her trembling arms tried to push herself up enough to rest her weight on her hip. She couldn't continue to dodge his attacks like that. She couldn't do anything against him without her Shun Shun Rikka. Even with them, he had already proven once before that he could easily destroy her.
"You think you're better than everyone else, just because Aizen pampers your ass and Ulquiorra has to take care of you?" His foot lifted, ready to come down on her with more force, holding nothing back. Orihime gasped in terror and her body froze as time itself seemed to stand still.
"Hey! What the fuck's going on in here?" a loud, obnoxious voice cut through the room. Like the shattering of glass, Orihime snapped back to her senses. When Yammy's foot stopped at the interruption, the large man stumbled over himself, tripping several times before quickly righting his balance and turning to glare at the annoying intruder.
"You fuckin' with pet-sama without my permission?" Nnoitra called irately as he sauntered forward, his swagger reeking of overconfidence.
"I don't need your permission for anything, Nnoitra," Yammy declared. "Now get lost."
Nnoitra frowned. "If anybody's going to mess with the bitch, it's gonna be me. Got it, you fugly dipshit?" he growled harshly as his long Zanpakuto was violently swung from his shoulder. The oversized blade slammed into the ground, deeply imbedding the black edge into the hard concrete of the arena's flooring.
"I'll crush your scrawny ass to dust if you even think about interfering, Nnoitra," Yammy seethed, completely turning his attention away from Orihime.
"We'll see about that, you moronic whoreson." Nnoitra chuckled as he rested his forearm against the lengthy handle of his weapon, leaning into it heavily.
"I ain't moronic!" he roared, ready to charge.
"Oi, Ulquiorra," Nnoitra suddenly called, looking up to the rafters where a long balcony sat obscurely hidden. "Why don't you call off your dog, already?" he sniggered sharply and Orihime glanced up, shocked to see Ulquiorra standing above the carnage, staring down on the scene vacantly.
He…had been watching the whole time?
And he hadn't put a stop to it sooner?!
She had nearly died!
Her heart ached in her chest suddenly as the painful feeling of betrayal crept into her. Even if it hadn't been explicitly, Orihime had bestowed Ulquiorra with some level of trust and it hurt more than she thought it ought to in realizing he'd completely crushed that trust without hesitation.
"Why don't you let me have a turn at pet-sama, eh?" His smile widened as he leaned over, putting all of his weight on his imposing Zanpakuto while he eyed the man closely. "I'll show her a real good time…" When Ulquiorra simply looked on without a word, Nnoitra's laugh grew loud and sadistic.
The pale man's silence was all the affirmation he needed.
Wrapping his fingers around the hilt of his weapon, Nnoitra easily pulled it from the floor.
"Hell, no!" Yammy stepped forward menacingly, protesting the lanky man's interference. "She's mine, go find some other bitch to fuck around with, you insect!" Yammy's scowl was foul and heated as he lunged at Nnoitra, clenching his fist while he aimed it at the offensive Espada.
Nnoitra's leg lifted to take a single step, and then disappeared before he'd even set foot on the ground.
The hard, static sound of sonido was warning enough of his arrival.
"Hello, pet-sama."
Orihime's helpless eyes lifted as he suddenly appeared before her, his Zanpakuto sharp and lethal and held high, ready to strike.
She felt her fingers curl in the dust and debris that had settled around her on the floor when, as if in slow motion, she watched his wicked grin spread across his face - death twinkling at her in his one visible eye as she became wrapped in his immense reiatsu.
Her pupils shrank and her heart stopped as instinct took over every cell in her body.
"Tsubaki!" she screamed piercingly, clenching her eyes shut and tensing her shoulders.
In a flash, a bright light shot down from the rafters where Ulquiorra stood. Jetting forward like an arrow on a mission that left fiery amber sparks in its wake, it zipped through the air faster than her dangerous attacker could anticipate. It sliced forward with a precise sharpness and Nnoitra's eye shot open dramatically when he felt the deep slash cut through the hierro of his neck from behind, drawing blood.
Peeking open her eyes, Orihime watched as the slender male reached up with a disbelieving look on his face to touch the side of his neck. When he pulled his fingers away from the small incision, only to see blood, his frown deepened gruesomely as he leveled his eye on her again.
"You little bitch…" he muttered hatefully.
She hadn't even seen him move as Santa Teresa was suddenly gorged deep into the earth beside her. The swiftness of the attack swooshed her hair aside in its strength as she sat frozen, staring up at the man before her.
"That was a warning shot, pet-sama," he said as he leaned down further and Orihime bolted.
Nnoitra cackled hysterically and suddenly she was jerked backwards, falling to the floor on her backside as his Zanpakuto slammed into the ground, trapping her cape in its clutches. Her frantic eyes looked back, mortified to see he had caught her so quickly…she hadn't even taken a full step. She was panting and erratic in her movements. Never had she felt more like a weak and helpless animal being cruelly tortured and toyed with. Instinct was driving her every move.
When she saw that the blade's sharpness had torn the material, Orihime put all of her weight into her movements, shredding the fabric until she was finally free, only to be jerked backwards once more as his foot landed on the remnants.
"Where ya going, pet-sama?" He chuckled and Orihime immediately stripped herself of the troublesome coat, running from him. "Don't you want to play with me?" He licked his lips offensively and suddenly her back was slammed into a wall, causing her to shriek out in pain.
His movements were so fast, she couldn't even see them coming.
Her breathing was short and labored as she looked up in time to watch his lanky figure block out the light above her. She saw his scythe rising again and she hardened her features, trying to find her inner strength. Her fairies were gone, but now that she knew they were still in the room, all she had to do was concentrate on them. She could feel them if she tried hard enough.
"Santen Kesshun!" she called desperately as the familiar light of her shield spread out before her, protective and comforting…
It was shattered after naught but a second.
The strength of his blow was so intense that she was forced back into the wall, sliding down against it weakly after feeling the pain of the impact momentarily cripple and jumble her senses.
"I'm gonna rip your fucking throat out, pet-sama," Nnoitra purred from above her, leaning down to smoothly wrap his long fingers around the delicate column of her neck. Slowly, he pulled her to him. "But first, I think I should at least enjoy myself a little…" His eyes fell to her chest appreciatively and Orihime stiffened.
"No!" Orihime screeched frantically, pushing against him while he only laughed at her efforts. "No, no! Kurosaki-kun!" she very nearly screamed. "Kurosaki-kun, Kurosaki-kun!" she called over and over, making the tall man frown in annoyance. When she suddenly grabbed his wrist before angling her head to bite him harshly, Nnoitra cursed and threw her back against the wall.
"Fuck…" he complained as he shook the appendage free of the annoying sting. No worse than a bug bite.
Immediately, another shield was called forth to separate her from her attacker. Dragging his eyes away from the tiny mark on his arm, Nnoitra merely looked down at her with a displeased grimace as he lifted his foot and shattered the offending and useless safeguard with the heel of his boot.
"I think I've had about enough of this game, already," he growled out and swung his scythe down on her only to be met with another shield.
"Stop! Please!" she petitioned as shield after shield was broken. She was exhausted and clearly defeated, she couldn't take anymore. "Kurosaki-kun!" she sobbed. Cornered like a frightened animal, she couldn't run, couldn't move and could scarcely continue to call upon her shields fast enough to block his assaults.
Nnoitra laughed almost mockingly at her tears. "He ain't coming! Give it up already!" he taunted as he pierced another shield.
Again she cried his name and again he didn't come. Her tearful eyes looked up, seeing Ulquiorra's cold, green gaze staring down at her. "Please, Ulquiorra!" she cried out to him. "Ulquiorra-kun, please!" Trying again to summon another shield, the girl failed as the force of his last attack sent her to the floor. When she felt Nnoitra's blade coming down on her one last time, Orihime curled in on herself and wrapped her arms over her head as fear like she'd never known before filled her body. One last time, she cried desperately, "Ulquiorra!"
Her heart raced in her chest as she waited for the pain.
It was so long in coming that she looked up, only to gasp at seeing a familiar back facing her, shielding her from Nnoitra's attack.
"Gri…Grimmjow-kun?" she breathed in astonishment.
"Hey, princess," he said through gritted teeth. His eyes remained locked with the displeased glare of the man in front of him, all the while his injured arm staved off the deadly curve of Nnoitra's blade. Orihime seemed frozen in shock as she continued to stare at the blue haired man before her, unable to believe what she was seeing.
"Well, don't just fucking sit there, you stupid bitch!" he barked out and then grunted stiffly as Nnoitra pressed harder upon seeing the bloody wound that was still fresh on Grimmjow's right arm, the very arm that Nnoitra's blade was currently buried several inches deep within. It was an opening they both knew he would exploit quickly and easily.
Hearing the harsh command, Orihime pushed herself to her feet and fought back the shaking of her legs as she ran from the corner she had been trapped in.
"I've been looking forward to a moment like this for a long time, Grimmjow," Nnoitra chuckled quietly. "But it would be rather rude of me to just ignore pet-sama in favor of a worthless varmint such as yourself," he said as his foot suddenly shoved into Grimmjow's chest. "Sorry…but I'll have to decline!" Forcibly, he kicked him back into the wall, sending cracks and splinters up the partition at the impact.
Grimmjow immediately went for his sword, but the damage Ulquiorra had left was deep and maiming, and slowed his arm's speed significantly. Nnoitra's Zanpakuto was coming down on him before he knew it and all he could do was dodge by shooting up into the rafters.
With a quick sonido, Nnoitra was standing before Orihime with his grin securely back in place and Grimmjow couldn't seem to move fast enough.
"Enough," Ulquiorra's cold voice called out from above them.
Nnoitra's movements stuttered to a halt. Hastily he snapped his head up to glare at the pale man viciously. "Fuck off, Ulquiorra. Just stay out of this! You had your chance to say something."
Swiftly putting aside all his reserves, Nnoitra's patience seemed to run completely dry in that moment and he swung back around. His blade was aimed with sharp precision and its metal held the terrifying promise to carve her in two without mercy.
Orihime gasped as one moment she was watching Santa Teresa coming down on her, and the next she was across the room in less than a millisecond's time. She hadn't even had a chance to blink as the scenery abruptly switched around her in a manner that was far too fast for her to register.
"Leave," Ulquiorra said frigidly, his voice suddenly beside her. His hand had remained locked around her arm to steady her as she faltered into his chest, staggering against the suddenness of something that had seemed so instantaneous it left her mind and body stammering. "None of you are needed here any longer."
"Don't be such a tease, Ulquiorra." Nnoitra's easy, laughing taunt sounded from far behind them. "That's like giving me a hot piece of ass and taking it away just before I can get myself off." He chuckled wickedly and Orihime's cheeks burned red.
"How vulgar," Ulquiorra uttered as he closed his eyes and turned his head away from the obscene man.
Nnoitra laughed even louder. "No need to be so uptight. Everybody knows you're fucking pet-sama," he cackled before swinging his scythe around violently and slamming it into the ground where he could lean heavily against the large weapon once more. "Or if ya ain't yet, you will be soon. Come on, you can tell me…is she as good as she looks?" he purred and Orihime felt her face explode with color as his bawdy language echoed through the arena. Crossing his foot over his ankle, he stared the smaller man down mockingly and lowered his voice suggestively. "I'll bet that pussy gets nice and wet for you at night…"
Orihime felt his hand turning her with him as he steered her to the exit, completely ignoring the comments.
"Do those giant tits get that heart of yours pumping fast…"
Orihime flinched as Ulquiorra's grip suddenly tightened around her arm and she felt as every muscle in the man's body stiffened next to her.
Nnoitra's keening laughter was barely noticeable as it became swiftly overshadowed by the dark aura that surrounded the smaller Espada and filled the room. However, the moment was gone as soon as it had arrived, and the fifth Espada was still clearly taking delight in it. It was something that Orihime didn't understand at all as she looked from one man to the other, but Ulquiorra's expression was unreadable. Nnoitra's laughter only continued to grow in volume as Ulquiorra urged her forward once more, leading her away from the large arena and into the wide entryway before releasing her.
She glanced back into the stadium briefly, wary of everything around her, before very hesitantly she began to follow after the relative safety of Ulquiorra. As they passed through the long channel, Orihime's eyes fell to a figure standing silently in the shadows of the access tunnel. With long blonde hair and a dark complexion, the stern looking woman kept her arms folded over her generous chest as she watched the pair walk by without a word, her eyes mostly fixated on Orihime.
Feeling uneasy, Orihime moved a little closer to Ulquiorra while casting wary, but curious glances the stranger's way, even though Ulquiorra didn't spare her a single look.
Traveling back through the dome and navigating the long halls of Las Noches had taken nearly an hour before they finally reached her room. It was such a weird feeling to actually have a sense of relief to be back in her cell, safe and quiet and away from the violence of that arena.
When he opened the door for her, Orihime hurried past Ulquiorra, not even casting him a sideways glance as she tried to put as much distance between them as quickly as she could.
"Woman." The sound of his voice stopped her and she sent him a wary look, keeping her lashes low to avoid direct eye contact. She saw her hairpins resting in his palm, waiting for her to retrieve them. Her trembling fingers began to reach out for them, but she abruptly backed away.
She couldn't get the image of that cold look in his eyes out of her head. The way he'd just stared down at her, waiting for her to be slaughtered. She felt a sob suddenly erupt from the back of her throat as tears filled her eyes. It was not a violent sob, nor was it an overabundant flood of tears, but they were there because the one person she relied on for protection had failed her. He had forced her into that hellish fight and purposefully left her defenseless.
Orihime had never felt so violated or alone and frightened than she had in that moment.
"Why did you do that to me?" she whispered quietly, her voice laced with anger and pain as she sought an answer.
"Do what?" he asked calmly and she nearly cringed at his impassivity.
"You were willing to let me die out there," she said with furrowed brows and dejected eyes. "You were going to let him kill me."
"Nonsense," he nearly scoffed and Orihime's eyes shot up, shocked by the first display of agitation she'd ever seen in the man, the first small sign of emotion. "You are alive, are you not?" His stern eyes glared into her own soft orbs.
"I…" She paused before narrowing her gaze in an abrupt rush of annoyance. "Only thanks to Grimmjow-kun!" she countered seriously as he continued to look down on her as if she were overreacting. "I almost died."
"Oh?" he said quietly as he stepped forward and she immediately took one back, intimidated. "Do you have any wounds on your body? Are you injured in any way?" he inquired stoically and Orihime was at a loss for words. Ulquiorra could not begin to understand what sort of flawed logic drove the girl. She cried when she was happy, she cried when she was sad, she cried when she was angry. It was pitiful.
"Well…no, I'm not, but-"
"Tell me, how was your life at risk when you do not even bare a scratch on your body?" he asked smoothly as he lifted his hand and effortlessly tucked her hair pins into the breast of her torn dress. Orihime blushed madly as she felt his cold fingers graze her cleavage, even as he apparently remained unaffected, not even taking his eyes away from hers. "By all means, you have emerged unwounded…yet you still complain." Although his voice did not hold much criticism, he spoke slowly, as if he didn't quite grasp what she was so upset about.
Had she completely forgotten that the only party to receive injury, no matter how small, was Nnoitra? She had actually survived the wrath of an Espada and had even surfaced with a minor victory. Did she truly just cast all of this, all of her small but meaningful achievements, aside simply because he did not rush to her aid when she beckoned him? To think the constant sheltering of her companions had numbed her to so many external factors, it was almost fascinating that all this madness had been brought about simply due to her belief in this "heart" connection she spoke of.
Orihime blinked and tried to keep her features stern, but with little success. It didn't matter what he was saying, did it? He was wrong for doing what he'd done. He'd gone about proving his point in an entirely wrong way…no matter that she may have discovered a new inner strength to herself.
"You left me…" she said softly and lowered her eyes as she got to the heart of the problem. She realized it wasn't because he'd made her fight them that she was so saddened, it was because he'd left her when she called out for him in such a terrifying moment of need. The abandonment she had felt was so crippling it had stunned her. Did she truly mean so little to him? "I didn't have the strength to-"
"I only left you because you did have the strength…you simply chose not to use it until now," he said reprovingly, finding her displays of weakness more annoying than he would care to admit. Even if he had made her unhappy, Ulquiorra shouldn't have been able to create such a profound impact on her emotional security in the first place, yet to see that he had was rather…alarming.
Without another word, he turned from her, intent on leaving the room.
"Ulquiorra?" she called quietly and only continued when she felt him pause in the door. "Do you…think I'm weak?" Silence filled the room before he finally answered,
"… yes."
Orihime closed her eyes tightly against the tears and turned away, trying to force an unfeeling smile onto her face. "I see." She had known what his answer would be and it still hurt. More than she'd care to admit.
"That does not mean I believe you are not valuable."
Orihime's heart leapt so hard in her chest that her hand had involuntarily jerked up to clutch it tightly, her breath catching in her throat. She lifted her head to catch a glimpse of his retreating figure as the door slid shut behind him, casting her in darkness.
It was the strangest thing.
Ulquiorra thought she was…valuable?
"Are you sure the information we've been given is correct?" a whispering voice inquired of its companions as they sped through the sand-drenched wasteland of Hueco Mundo.
They were swift and quiet as they kept their formation tight and clean. While remaining hidden in the shadows of Las Noches, each of them moved stealthily around its perimeter. They had been given a mission that was not given to most. They had been entrusted with a covert task, and they were going to accomplish it at any price.
"Of course, Captain Hitsugaya gave us the order himself," another replied as their eyes took in the bleak sight of the barren wilderness and desert. Most of them had never been to a dimension like Hueco Mundo in the span of their respectable careers. Such inexperience had left the majority of their small group overly cautious and vigilant as they became mistrustful of every rock, building, or hill they crossed, never knowing what awaited them on the other side.
"Isn't this going against the direct order of the Captain Commander, though?" one of them intoned warily, broaching the subject they had all been avoiding. They knew all Shinigami personnel had been forbidden from entering the realm of the Hollows. Themselves included.
"Yes, but the Captain warned each of us beforehand about the repercussions should we be caught, either by Shinigami or Arrancar alike," he answered reproachfully, annoyed to see that his comrade was showing doubts when he had already proclaimed his understanding and assurances about this mission to their Captain. "I cannot imagine the Captain would ever disobey the Commander without good reason…even in circumstances such as this," he finished, his faith in his superior apparent.
They were breaking the law and each of them knew it. It had put the less experienced members on edge as, by now, they were not only wary of Hollows attacking them, but their Shinigami comrades who may be sent to retrieve the wayward subordinates, as well.
"Both of you, be quiet," a stern voice hissed sharply as they weaved in and out of darkness before stopping at the bottom of a tall sand dune. "We're going to get caught if you keep yammering!"
Just then, another figure emerged from behind an enormous dune and approached the small group of Shinigami, nodding in acknowledgment. "Our informant says the girl's being held in the fourth tower. Apparently it's on the southernmost side of the castle, at least an hour away."
"Damn, that far?" their leader cursed and wrapped his fingers around his chin as he thought silently. "We're going to have to move fast, the longer we stay here, the more vulnerable we become."
"Oh…now what do we have here?" a sharp voice mused from above the ragtag team of Shinigami. Each of their heads jerked up at the sound as their hands reached defensively for their Zanpakuto, gripping their hilts in anticipation of attack. "Shinigami, eh? A little out of your element here, aren't you?" the voice cackled, its lanky figure outlined by the bright glow of the moon hanging in the sky behind the silhouette.
Standing with his large scythe buried in the sand by his feet, Nnoitra smirked down on the men below him. Perched on the large dune that overshadowed them, he only grinned wider as each of the men drew their swords before he could finish his introduction.
"We're here for the girl. Hand her over, Hollow!" their leader announced.
Nnoitra's laugh was loud and full as he jerked Santa Teresa from the ground in a broad swing before resting it on his shoulder. "Straight to the point, eh? I can appreciate that," he said as he took slow, measured steps down the steep slope of the sandbank.
"Stay alert!" one of the men shouted, readying his small band of troops. "Don't take your eyes off the enemy-"
Nnoitra was standing before them in a flash, his malicious grin suddenly gone and replaced with a disgusted frown.
"You know…I really hate you Shinigami bastards…" he muttered quietly.
The night remained eerily silent for moments afterward.
There hadn't even been a scream.
"Always so full of yourselves."
"How many men are there?" Aizen asked as he made his way through the pristine white halls of Las Noches. His steps were graceful and his pace was uninterrupted while he easily navigated around a wide corner. Soon, the hall opened up into a long, vast passageway that seemed to stretch for miles. It was bright and majestic, with imperial pillars that braced the length of the high arched ceiling.
"Apparently, there were five," Gin said from beside him as they stopped at the landing to a wide and incredibly large column of steps. Those steps led down to the dungeons of the fortress. "They all seem to range from differing divisions and squads, though…how very strange," he drawled with a wide grin and a small chuckle. "What on earth do you think they could have been after…Capt'n?"
Aizen smirked distractedly at the man's sarcasm while his clever brown eyes stared down the long row of steps before him.
"Unfortunately, none of them seem to be very willing to talk," Gin informed distraughtly. "Whatever shall we do with them?"
"…call for Ulquiorra."
Gin's deviant chuckle seemed to crawl over the walls and wrap around the columns like a snake.
"Bringing out the big guns already? I don't get to chat with our new visitors first?" Gin said with false dejection and shook his head slightly, causing his platinum hair to shimmer against the blaring whiteness of the place. At receiving no response, he turned away from the brunette with a resigned and wholly contrived sigh. "And here I was so looking forward to it. Such a pity," he grinned as he casually stalked off.
Aizen remained silent, sparing him no further acknowledgments as he ignored the slender man's words and waited for his presence to disappear. When Gin had left, Aizen took the steps with a slow airiness. Elegant and smooth, he seemed to glide down them one by one as the atmosphere around him grew darker and darker still. The static white walls of his beloved Las Noches faded into the background as he descended into the gloomy under pit of the dungeon.
"Nnoitra," Aizen greeted as he approached the man standing guard beside a cellar door.
"I kept them alive, just for you, Lord Aizen," Nnoitra said with a sadistic grin, sniggering to himself about something he seemed to find very, very amusing.
"Did you?" Aizen's dapper appearance was immensely skewed in the murky shadows of Las Noches' underbelly, making his usual amiable smirk appear sinister and terrifying. The filthy darkness in such a place had reached out and peeled away the mask, for no amount of light could ever reveal what lay hidden in the man's mind. It was only in the obscurity of such blackness, the kind which matched the color of his soul, that his true ugliness could be seen. "How considerate," he intoned fluidly as he stepped past the sniggering man. "You've done well."
Entering into the dim room, the five battered Shinigami looked up to see the frightening sight of Aizen Sosuke closing in on them. His smile was mild and his eyes were soft, but there was something in them that was ghastly and unfathomable that spoke to the evils of the man and his wickedness.
"Aizen," one of the men hissed spitefully, as if the very name sickened him. As if it were taboo to even think it.
Aizen grinned.
"My, how unpleasant. It seems the use of manners have become obsolete in light of my absence," he said coolly as he gradually took in the sight of the men shackled to the walls, each of them looking worse for wear.
"You disgusting monster!" one of them bellowed and rushed at him, ignoring his chains. The man was instantly forced into the ground under the tyrant's massive spiritual pressure, nearly choking the life out of him.
"No manners, whatsoever…" Aizen reiterated regretfully. "Now, if you would be so kind as to tell me who sent you here?" Danger leaked from every pore of his body and every syllable that was uttered from his mouth.
"We're not telling you anything!" Another rebelled violently, refusing to be intimidated.
"You do realize that by coming here, you have broken the treaty set in place by Soul Society itself?"
All of them remained silent, deliberately ignoring his questions as they continued to glare at the menacing man.
"No answer?" He canted his head slightly, his eyebrow lifting curiously. "Very well, I truly did not wish to resort to this…" He sighed with false regret. "Ulquiorra," Aizen called softly over his shoulder. The room was hushed for seconds afterwards before his rich brown eyes glanced at the men one last time. "Perhaps you will come around soon enough." His velvety voice grew startlingly hushed before he turned from them.
Several eyes in the room narrowed hatefully while others widened in fear as a pale figure appeared in the doorway. Silent and watching, its eyes glowed out from the darkness in an unspoken promise of the misery to come.
Aizen paused beside the shorter man as he glided from the room.
"Torture them until they talk," he ordered with an empty voice, his face void and unreadable. "Then kill them."
Ulquiorra remained inside as the door gradually slid shut behind Aizen, casting the dim room with a cold and bitter chill as it filled with his reiatsu.
"My name is Ulquiorra Cifer," he announced as he calmly stepped forward. His eyes shined brightly through the blackened night. Wicked and glossy, they reflected the paltry beams of moonlight that slipped through the barred window like glass. "And you will tell me everything you know," he intoned, muted and hushed against the gloom of the cell around him.
The only sound to break the hum of silence was the fateful click of the door locking shut behind him.
Orihime lifted her head as another agonized scream echoed out through the night. It sent chills down her spine and she shook her head, quickly looking away from the window. Las Noches truly did have the worst noises she'd ever heard.
Running a brush through her hair, she took a moment to pull her barrettes out from the breast of her uniform, blushing slightly as she recalled Ulquiorra's fingers casually tucking the precious adornments there. As Orihime eyed herself in the mirror, she pulled her bangs back before fastening the sparkling ornaments into their rightful place by her temple.
Leaning back from her reflection, Orihime examined her herself in the long mirror of the chifferobe. She frowned as she saw some dust still sitting on the waist of her dress and quickly wiped it away before resuming her close examination. Her hands ran distractedly over the sides of her stomach in thought.
Orihime blinked and her mind once again drifted back to that word.
Valuable.
Her friends had always preached about how important and helpful she was to the team. They would defend her honor fervently if anyone ever disputed this. Even Ichigo had been up in arms when Kisuke had banned her from the war.
Although she did not always feel personally useful to the group equation, Orihime had still followed these strict sets of ideals: in that she believed her friends considered her truly valuable to themselves and to their team, even if Orihime did not. Yet…if so, why had they never allowed her to fight? Why was it that every time she had tried to offer help, she was told to stay back - to just sit and watch and clean up the damage in the aftermath?
As a chilly shiver raked over her arms, Orihime tossed her brush onto the counter of the dresser before wrapping her fingers around the small knob of the door. Pulling it open, she sifted through the hangers to drag out a new cape.
"Hey princess," a somber voice called from the door.
Orihime whipped her head around. She was still unused to the abrupt comings and goings of the people who came to see her, always seeming to appear out of nowhere and sneak up on her with ease. "Grimmjow-kun?" she said, a little startled by his appearance. "What are you doing here?" she asked worriedly, only to stop short when she noticed the strange look on his face.
He had his hands pocketed at his sides and his face was rather solemn looking, never quite meeting her eyes. He looked as though he, himself, didn't know why he was there.
"Are you okay?" she asked as he invited himself into her room.
"Me? Why the hell wouldn't I be?" he scoffed and Orihime thought he looked very glum, despite his words. Her brown eyes landed on his arm, where not only one but two wounds were still present and bleeding.
"Grimmjow-kun! Your arm!" she gasped in concern as she rushed over, throwing her jacket aside to reach him.
"Huh?" He blinked, not quite catching up with her words. Eventually it clicked and he looked down at the deep gash left by Nnoitra's blade as well as the large gouges that Ulquiorra had inflicted. It had started to close up earlier that day, but was soon reopened by that scuffle in the arena. "Oh, that…it's nothing, don't worry about it," he said as she started to pull back the sleeve of his jacket. It had been practically glued to his arm by the dry blood.
"Don't be so stubborn," she countered as her lips pursed out whilst she studied the lesions. Grimmjow couldn't seem to stop staring at the full shape of those lips.
"Keh, I said don't worry about it," he huffed as he looked away, annoyed.
"Of course I'm going to worry!" She enforced her words with a small smile when she realized how much more approachable he seemed when he was moping. He was the same way when she'd first met him, before he'd killed Luppi and regained his status. Without thought, she called on her fairies, sending them out to gently spread over his arm.
"I said, I don't want your help!" He suddenly snapped, breaking the shield and pushing her away from him harshly.
Orihime stumbled back, regarding him with a look of alarm and confusion that blemished her beautiful eyes…and then her chin started to quiver and her eyes watered and before he knew it she sniffled hard as her face distorted into the most hideous thing Grimmjow had quite possibly ever seen.
"I…I'm sorry," she hiccupped, not quite to tears but dangerously on the verge. "I just wanted to help since you…you…"
Grimmjow growled and cursed under his breath as he rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. Never had he wanted to rip his hair out so much in his life. "For fuck's sake…just cut it out already!" he demanded harshly. "All your damn crying is so bloody annoying." Whatever effect he thought his words might have, they seemed to have done the total opposite.
She very nearly started bawling.
It sounded even worse than usual as the girl's sobs were only intensified by the fact she was trying that much harder to hold them back, making them sound horrendous and gross.
"Damn it…" he hissed as she held in a wail that had lodged in the back of her throat, only to have it squeak out in time with her hiccups.
"I didn't mean to upset you, Grimmjow-kun," she blurted as she wiped at her tears in a fruitless effort to rid them from her eyes. "I just don't understand what you always get so angry about."
"Alright, alright! Enough, already!" he spat out. "Here, heal my damn arm if it makes you that fucking happy." He shoved his hands into his pockets as he quickly looked away. There was a large grimace on his face - one that had been strategically placed there to hide the look of discomfort in his eyes. "Just as long as you stop that annoying blubbering…it's pissin' me off."
Orihime looked up at him hesitantly. "But…"
His eyes suddenly fell to the large, imposing bruise on her arm.
"Just shut up and do it!" he scowled and quickly turned away from the sight.
He heard a soft sniff from beside him followed by a long silence. After several more moments of the tense quiet, a golden glow slowly illuminated his side, wrapping his arm with warmth as it took away the dull throb of pain.
Inconspicuously, his eyes slid over to her, watching her closely as she wiped at the last remaining tears that stained her cheeks. Grimmjow had never felt guilt before, even now it wasn't quite anything as deep as that. He'd throw his fraccion into a meat grinder in a heartbeat, not caring if they lived or died, if he knew he'd get something good out of it. Such things like remorse or camaraderie weren't in his nature and it certainly wasn't his responsibility to look out for them. Those bastards had followed him because they wanted power as much as he did. Still, when he looked at that woman, there was a hint of something in him, a niggling of this pestering thing that was almost rueful.
Almost.
It was ridiculous. She should have hated him after something like that. Hell, she should have ratted his ass out to Ulquiorra in a heartbeat, then the pale Espada would quickly become the least of his problems in light of Aizen's wrath. It kind of irritated him that she hadn't, and even more so because he didn't understand why.
Just like he didn't understand why his fraccion…
"Look…" he began with a gruff sigh, entirely pissed off at himself for what he was about to do. "About that…"
"I know, Grimmjow-kun," she said soothingly and his eyes shot back down to hers. The dumb woman actually smiled. "I know."
Grimmjow felt dread sink into every bone and crevice of his body when something sputtered in his chest.
"Shit…" he cursed testily, quickly dragging his eyes away.
Suddenly, every ounce of weirdness disappeared from his mind as he heard her giggle. He had been surly enough about the situation and it only pissed him off even more that she found it funny.
"Cut it out, damn it," he demanded with a sneer and she only laughed more. "I said, cut it out!"
Soft laughter erupted from the girl like bubbles and a rosy, cheery blush bloomed over her cheeks at the look of discomfort on his face. Affronted, he reached down to the papers resting on her table and crumpled them up in his hand as he held them over her head.
"You want me to trash your stupid journal?" he threatened and she turned away, covering her mouth as the laughter grew and filled the room like a light. "Don't think I won't shred this shit to-" He paused as he glanced at the papers, frowning at the bizarre drawings that littered the pages in his hands. "What the fuck is this?"
Orihime glanced over her shoulder, still smiling. "Those are the drawings me and Wonderweiss-san made," she informed, pointing to each illustration as she explained them. "There's one of Las Noches and Kurosaki-kun and my brother…" she prattled and Grimmjow was awkwardly silent as he took in the ridiculously over exaggerated pose of his arch enemy, Ichigo Kurosaki, standing on a cliff with his chest puffed out like a turkey. "There's even one of this really amazing character called Chappy!"
Lifting his other hand, Grimmjow sifted through the papers as his sights fell on one drawing in particular buried in the folds of the disarrayed mess. "And this?" he asked with an unpleasant frown as the familiar face of the fourth Espada stared back at him. It was a fair likeness, a striking portrait that clearly spoke to the amount of time she had put into it, unembellished with the fantastical enhancements that she had placed on the boy.
"Hm?" she hummed in inquiry as she stepped closer to see the picture he was holding. "Oh, that's Ulquiorra!" she said happily. "What do you think? Did I do a good job?" Her smile beamed with great pride.
"…I think it's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen." He deadpanned and then suddenly wadded it up and held it over his mouth as if he were going to swallow it, just to remove the revolting image from existence.
"Noo!" Orihime shrieked from beside him, pushing up on her toes as she leaned in, trying to rescue her precious work of art. "I worked so hard on it!" she protested.
The girl watched, truly mortified, as the image disappeared into his mouth, his lips closing around it with a large grin and a chuckle before swallowing.
"Tastes just as bad as it looks!" he jeered mockingly and laughed haughtily as she sagged in disbelief. "Really, princess, you shouldn't waste your time on repulsive shit like that."
"It wasn't repulsive!" she expressed, slightly defensive. Really, she didn't know why the man was so intent on bullying her.
"If you want to draw something good, then try drawing me," he taunted. With a forgiving sigh, she began to reply to his less than inconspicuous endeavors, only to be interrupted by an eager voice that called out from her doorway.
"Dog…" Came the slow, but garbled announcement.
Both parties looked over and Orihime couldn't help but smile at her guest. "Wonderweiss-san," she clapped her hands together once proudly. "Very good!" she praised as her eyes lit up upon hearing the boy speak his first true word around her. "Yes, it is a dog," she intoned approvingly as she hurried over to him, showering him with affection.
Grimmjow frowned as she stepped away from him and began to focus her attention elsewhere. However, when he lowered his eyes to what the rotten little brat was holding out in his hands, he felt every hair on his body stand on edge.
"Were you able to catch him again?" Orihime questioned as she leaned in to examine the nauseating abomination that had succeeded in grabbing her interest. It had a small, horned mask covering its face and a large number tattooed onto its back. It was whining and kicking its paws like a wild beast and Grimmjow was half tempted to blast the ugly monster off the face of Hueco Mundo.
Dogs…
Grimmjow hated dogs.
"Dog!" Wonderweiss said again, holding it out to the girl while she smiled. It was wriggling and squirming to break free of the young boy's grasp, clearly not wanting to be there. Grimmjow nearly smirked, hoping the filthy mutt was suffering beyond imagination.
"Perhaps you should put him down, Wonderweiss-san," she suggested kindly and the boy tilted his head in confusion before quickly pulling the animal back to his body, afraid that she would take it from him. He cast her a suspicious glance and kept the dog close against his side where it began to whine in discomfort and frustration.
"Let the brat keep it," Grimmjow scoffed from behind them, keeping a broad distance between them. "Hopefully, he'll end up suffocating the damn thing." He chuckled at the thought. Orihime cast him a look over her shoulder and he scoffed again.
"Watch this, Wonderweiss-san," she persuaded softly as she reached forward to the dog. The boy hesitated for a moment, but her tender patience seemed to easily win out and he eventually forsook all protests. "If you hold something too tightly," she explained carefully as she moved her hand towards the dog with slow, soothing motions, allowing it to catch her scent to show she meant no harm. "It will inevitably want to break away." Her hands wrapped around the canine's waist securely to lift it from Wonderweiss's grasp.
"But, if you set it free…" she trailed off knowingly and when Orihime set the dog on the floor, it looked from her to the boy before it promptly ran to the door. Wonderweiss made a noise of despair and quickly tried to chase after it, only to be stopped by Orihime's hand on his shoulder.
"Just watch, Wonderweiss-san," she urged again with a reassuring smile and the boy obediently observed, fascinated to see the dog had paused in the doorway and was now looking back to them with a single paw hesitantly held off the ground. It turned and swiftly disappeared behind the wall, yet after only seconds had passed, the small animal's head peeked out from around the corner to curiously watch them. "See?" She gave an airy chortle when the canine slowly stepped forward. It sniffed the floor skeptically before sitting quietly by the threshold of the exit; close enough to sate its curiosity, but far enough away to feel safe.
"What did I tell you?" she practically chirped.
"Ahh…" The boy made a noise of intrigue as he looked up to her…and then immediately turned to chase after the dog once more.
The animal's feet seemed to actually run in place for several seconds as it scrambled into action, dashing out of the room and away from the young boy.
"Wonderweiss-san!" Orihime called with wide eyes. "No! You'll scare it!" she protested loudly as she raced after him without thought.
Grimmjow sighed in annoyance as he watched the pair disappear from the room. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he stepped forward to follow after them.
The stupid girl, she was liable to get herself into trouble out there by herself.
Even so, he really ought to just leave her be. If she ran into Nnoitra or some other asshole out there and wound up raped and slaughtered, it would be Ulquiorra's head that Aizen would have on a stake, not Grimmjow's…and that was something, without a doubt, that would amuse him greatly to see. To bear witness to such an event would certainly be a day to remember.
He watched as the girl paused half way down the hall and glanced at him over her shoulder with a blank, wide eyed expression.
"Grimmjow-kun!" she suddenly called, her face breaking out in a smile. "Hurry, you're going to fall behind!" she urged laughingly before turning back to run after the boy.
Grimmjow glanced away, reaching up to scratch the back of his head irritably.
Surely he'd rather see Ulquiorra suffering at the hands of Aizen…
Surely.
..
…
TBC
…
..