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CHAPTER 8
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Ulquiorra sighed as cold water ran down his back like needles dancing on his skin. Pressing his palm against the sterile white wall of the shower, his green eyes stared with disinterest as a deep crimson red began to swirl around the drain and discolor the water. Torture always had been a messy business, one that Aizen more often than not assigned to the pale Espada.
While most of the Espada were generally intimidating beings, there was something about Ulquiorra that always scared the truth out of prisoners that even Ulquiorra himself didn't understand the reason for. He did, however, understand why Aizen always chose him. Harribel hadn't the stomach for it. Starrk the motivation. Baraggan couldn't be bothered to sully his hands. Many of the others, while strong and frightening, would often lose their patience or just become overzealous and expire the prisoners before anything useful could be learned.
Ulquiorra hardly thought his presence had been necessary this time.
The Shinigami had not been hard to break. Soul Reapers, in general, never had been very resistant to such methods of extracting information and were usually easy to overwhelm due to their comfortable existence within Soul Society. The last group had been no different. It was the second cluster of Shinigami that had breached Hueco Mundo since the girl had arrived and he suspected there would be many more to follow in the wake of those that had already failed. Even though they were in direct violation of the contract Aizen had made with Soul Society, Ulquiorra suspected the ex-Shinigami Captain would not openly act on the matter any time soon. At least, not if he wanted to keep the opposing forces at bay long enough to allow the Hogyoku to heal itself properly. The small rogue groups that were being sent into Las Noches prematurely were inconsequential compared to the Captains of the Gotei Thirteen that Aizen's army would have to face during the climax of the oncoming war. To bother with disbanding the contract over trivial low ranking Shinigami that were acting out of order would be extremely unwise and impulsive.
No matter their brash choices, one thing was clear. They had all come in search of the woman, and they had done so by order of their Captains.
Ulquiorra's green eyes closed against the sting of the frigid water as he contemplated the matter.
It was difficult to believe so many members of the Shinigami forces had gone against the direct orders of their Commander for the sake of one woman. There was so much at stake for them and to think they were willing to risk the fate of their world all in hopes of retrieving her was difficult to rationalize. Was there something more to her powers, perhaps a deeper part of her abilities that even Aizen hadn't noticed that could be at the heart of their irrational actions? Could that be why they were so intent to get her back and keep her away from Las Noches at any price?
It was doubtful.
He would have already pried that information from them if it were true.
It was also too far of a stretch to think someone as perceptive and clever as Aizen Sosuke would have missed something of such importance. Even Ulquiorra could not fully get behind this theory.
Perhaps, they had all come simply because the girl actually held…sentimental value to the Captains.
To think such distinguished members of the Shinigami forces would jeopardize the entire outcome of a war, all for the chance to rescue a single human female. A gambit of that magnitude would never be worth such a heavy price. Breaking treaties, disobeying orders and wagering the only advantage they had managed to gain in the progressing warfare, all for the woman, was beyond illogical.
If that was the true reasoning behind all the invading Shinigami that had recently been sent to Hueco Mundo, Ulquiorra failed to see the threat that such a thoughtless enemy posed. Aizen had warned his Espada many times over of the notable and impressive depths of the Gotei Thirteen's powers, yet the validity of those claims were already starting to waver in light of their senseless effort of retrieving the girl behind the back of their own superior. Still, Ulquiorra was not one to take Aizen Sosuke's words lightly. Neither was he one to underestimate an enemy, no matter how inadequate they may seem.
Simply because they were willing to risk their title and their position for a mortal girl, did not necessarily mean they were weak. Just stupid. It was clear by now that what they wanted was the woman.
That woman…
There is no purpose in power if you have nothing to protect, she had said.
Rather, to Ulquiorra, it seemed there was no purpose in anything when it came to her beliefs. Things were so much easier to appreciate when everything was filled with void and nothingness, but she had to disrupt that and weigh things down with meanings and significance when it was not necessary or wanted. She tried desperately to find meaning in his actions when there was simply nothing to be found. She could not accept that he was as empty as he appeared. To do so would be a direct contradiction to her beliefs, the beliefs she had thrived on and erected the foundation of her life upon. To acknowledge him as anything but what he was would be a threat to the existence of the heart.
So she would glance at him with smiles and blushes, trying to see something that wasn't there. And he'd inevitably have to remind her every time of what he really was.
Yet, his wandering mind recalled the way she had looked at him that day in the arena. Cornered and terrified, she had tears in her eyes as she cried for his help…she wouldn't even touch him afterwards, not even to take back her hair pins.
Ulquiorra's fingers slowly curled into a fist against the tiled panels of the shower wall.
She was what all these people were willing to go to war over? Was she what her companions would risk everything for, their very lives, in order to retrieve? Was she the reason the Captains were ignoring the prime directive and disobeying imperative edicts set in place by their own Commander?
Was she what Ichigo Kurosaki would fight for?
A girl that preached about the heart as easily as she breathed air.
She had seemed so vulnerable and open when she had given him that awful look of betrayal. He could see it in her eyes, that expression of hurt, as if he had struck her.
Had she become so dependent on the strength of her friends that the idea of defending herself had become totally foreign? The woman had actually been offended that he hadn't come to her rescue.
He wouldn't have bothered with that mess if Aizen hadn't desired it in the first place. He'd wanted to see the full span of her abilities and he'd wanted Ulquiorra to strengthen those aspects in her. Ulquiorra did not think it was possible to strengthen them more than what they already were without giving the woman some proper encouragement. However, it would seem that his idea of 'proper encouragement' did not sit well with the woman in the least. He had already grasped the fact that violence wasn't in her nature. He clearly wouldn't be capable of expanding the more formidable facets of her strength without placing her in a situation that would actively force those qualities out of her. Therefore, the best and quickest method to motivate her into fighting would be to place her in a life or death scenario.
Thrusting her into combat against insurmountable odds would draw out her instinctual desire to live and it would force her to fight back.
He hadn't been wrong. It had worked…if only momentarily.
Her reliance on her companions was nothing short of a handicap. Her belief in the heart, in the preposterous notion that if she simply wished hard enough and cried hard enough and screamed hard enough, that her friends would magically just appear before her eyes to save her life was delusional - something that she should have fully realized after that day in the arena.
What a waste…
Lifting his head to glance out the washroom window, Ulquiorra took note of the position of the moon in the sky.
With another quiet sigh, he reached down and turned off the water. It was a waste of time dwelling on this. He had business that needed attending and he was already late for his meeting with Aizen…he really didn't want to deal with it any longer than was necessary.
"You wished to see me, My Lord?" Ulquiorra asked as he entered the private study.
Aizen glanced up from the calligraphy papers he had been working on before lowering his eyes back to the script under his brush. "Ulquiorra," he welcomed. "I'm glad you were able to make it today."
"My apologies, Lord Aizen," he said and momentarily bowed his head in respect. "I was not able to make the meeting yesterday."
"It is quite alright, Ulquiorra." Aizen smiled as he continued to stroke the ink over the paper masterfully. "I understand that you have been much detained elsewhere recently. I cannot fault you for fulfilling your duties."
"Yes," he replied quietly.
"You must forgive me." Aizen sighed as he gracefully dropped his pen to the desk and lifted the parchment to begin fanning it dry. "This calligraphy…it is an old habit I picked up as a Captain in Soul Society," he said just as the door opened once more to allow a servant pushing a trolley to enter. "You know what they say about old habits…" he stated as he stood from his chair and approached the balcony where the Arrancar had left his tea. "Would you like some, Ulquiorra?"
"No, My Lord,"
"Very well then." Aizen poured himself a cup and took a seat in his chair that overlooked the main courtyard. Ulquiorra stood silently behind him. "How is our guest doing?" he inquired smoothly, as if discussing the weather.
"It would seem she has adjusted well," he responded vacantly as his green eyes stared out into the vast blue sky of the dome.
"Oh?" Aizen inquired and took a languid sip of the steaming liquid in his cup. "How well?"
"Well enough," Ulquiorra replied evenly. "It appears as if several members of your army have become rather…attached to her," he said with a pause, as if to search for the correct word.
Aizen chuckled. "Is that so?" He smiled mildly as his eyes watched the many comings and goings of the Arrancar in the enclosed bailey. "I suppose it is only natural for them to be curious about her."
"I will be rid of them, if this is troublesome for you."
Aizen chuckled softly again as he placed the porcelain cup onto the small table beside his chair. "That will not be necessary, Ulquiorra." He leisurely rested his chin in the palm of his hand. "I'm sure they keep her entertained well enough."
Ulquiorra remained silent.
"Have you attempted to further cultivate those extraordinary powers of hers yet?" he began with reserved interest. "I find myself quite curious about the extent of her abilities."
"I have done with her as you instructed."
"And?"
Ulquiorra was still for a moment longer before replying. "If you do not mind me saying so, I believe her to be unfit for the rigors of war." His eyes stayed on the back of the chair that his master sat in, waiting for a response.
"I see," Aizen said steadily.
"It is my observation that the woman is highly dependent, rather than dependable," he explained.
"Do you think this could be changed?"
"I consider it…possible," he answered belatedly. "She is strong in spirit and has shown signs of competence, but her ideals are holding her back. It is only in the extremist circumstances and through the coercion of force that she has cooperated."
"And these…extreme circumstances," Aizen began quietly, his voice holding a critical edge of darkness. "Did you allow harm to come to her in these 'circumstances', Ulquiorra?"
Ulquiorra remained silent and watched as a well-manicured hand appeared from behind the chair to delicately lift his cup from the table.
"No, My Lord."
"I'm glad to hear this," Aizen continued smoothly, an alarming amount of danger dripping from his words. "I would hate to see anything untoward happen to my dear guest during her stay here at Las Noches. Orihime Inoue is more important to me than any of you could possibly imagine. Ulquiorra…you are to place her life above your own at all times. If anything would happen to befall this precious treasure of mine, someone will inevitably have to answer for this offense." He paused to let the words sink in. "Do you understand this, Ulquiorra?"
"…yes."
"Good." Aizen gracefully stood, leaving his cup resting on the arm of his chair. "Has any progress been made with the Shinigami that have invaded Hueco Mundo?" he inquired as he strode over to the edge of the terrace.
"They have given all the information necessary before their disposal."
"And who do we have to thank for sending this group to us?" He smiled just a bit and glanced at the pale man from the corner of his eye.
"Captain Toshiro Hitsugaya."
A single chuckle hummed in the back of his throat. "How surprising," he said as he turned into the breeze of the desert. "Jushiro Ukitake sent the last troupe. I truly expected he would have sent this one, as well."
"It seems to matter little which particular Captain sent them."
"Is their Commander aware of their actions?" Aizen asked as his eyes narrowed upon hearing this news. If the Captain Commander were conscious of their efforts and had done nothing to stop them, it could do damage to the much needed treaty between their worlds. Aizen still needed time to stall them from jumping into the war too early. He needed that time to allow the Hogyoku to heal properly.
"They did not have this information, though what they did supply would seem to suggest that he is not," he replied. "However, it has become clear that the Shinigami are not acting alone. They have been successful in entering Las Noches only through the aid of an informant within our ranks. From the Shinigami's description, it would appear to be a Numeros."
"That is a shame…" Aizen sighed briefly, as if the thought was vexing to him. "More Shinigami will undoubtedly follow in their steps soon enough. When is their next enterprise to obtain Orihime Inoue?"
"They gave no exact date, but I expect within the next two weeks," Ulquiorra answered stoically. "Shall I make arrangements to increase security around the grounds?"
"Yes, I suppose that would be wise," he agreed as he made his way back to his chair. "You are to find this informant and bring him to me as soon as he is detained." Aizen resumed his position of staring out over the wide courtyard beneath them while sipping his tea. "Keep a close eye on the girl during the upcoming days, Ulquiorra. I do not want them near her. She does not know of their efforts, I would like to keep it that way for as long as possible. It would be troublesome if she discovered Soul Society wasn't as indifferent to her plight as they first appeared."
"Of course, My Lord," Ulquiorra said quietly. "Will that be all?"
"Yes, you may go," Aizen said and Ulquiorra turned to leave. "On second thought," he began suddenly, as if he had just recalled a forgotten thought. "I have an opening in my schedule in two weeks…I would like to see her then."
"Yes, My Lord," Ulquiorra repeated as he was once more dismissed.
Ichigo released another frustrated growl as he was forced to turn off the vacuum sweeper - yet again - and lean down to pick up more of Lisa's dirty magazines. He was tired of wearing that stupid frilly apron and even more tired of cleaning up after their mess.
"I'm starting to get the feeling they're only training me just so they'll have someone to clean up all their shit…" he muttered to himself irritably.
"What'd you say, idiot?" an obnoxious voice called from overhead. Without turning around he already knew the owner of that voice was leering down at him from the upper level.
Ichigo grit his teeth as he continued to stack the magazines tighter, patting them against the coffee table repeatedly until they were even.
"Don't tell me you're complaining! How lame, you should be grateful we're still putting up with your ass!" The small blonde pushed even further as she leaned over the railing to berate him persistently. "Geez, what do you expect, free services? What do we look like, a charity? And you still complain…so pathetic, you haven't even made any progress in your training!"
Ichigo nearly felt a tooth chip as he clenched his jaw even tighter and wrapped his fingers deeper into the papers of Lisa's dirty magazines. He patted them even harder and rougher against the tabletop as he tried to ignore her constant nagging.
"Besides, shouldn't someone like you be in school? What the hell are you doing hanging around here playing housewife all the damn time?"
"I'm not your damned housewife!" Ichigo suddenly snapped, slamming the books violently onto the table as he turned to glare at her. "And don't talk to me about progress, I've already gained a quarter of a second on my time!" He pointed his finger at her accusingly.
"Did anybody tell you to stop cleaning, housewife?" she reprimanded loudly.
"Why…you…old…hag," he bit out slowly with barely restrained fury.
A dark look suddenly came over Hiyori's features. Moments later, her foot slammed down atop the railing that braced the upper level as she glared down the length of her nose at him dangerously. She looked poised to pounce off the balcony should he repeat his mistake. "Say that again, idiot," she dared quietly with wide, almost wild eyes. "I could have killed you twenty times over already, do you really think you can take me?" she challenged.
Ichigo's fist clenched tightly as he withheld several vile curses in the back of his throat, some of which escaped in irate and angered growls. Quickly, he turned on his heel and jerked the vacuum sweeper back to his side before he began furiously running it over the rug repetitively, grumbling under his breath all the while.
Overhead, he heard Hiyori's insufferable laughter blaring out over the loud hum of the sweeper.
He'd only come there because he wanted to get stronger. It wasn't like he enjoyed her nagging all the time. With a resigned sigh, he tried to tone out the sound of her voice as he continued to clean throughout the room.
Being absent from school so frequently was bothersome, but his reasons were something that would have to take precedence. If he couldn't expand the length of time that he was able to use his mask, he'd never be able to beat Grimmjow, let alone face any of the other members of the Espada army.
Ever since that incident with Tatsuki, Ichigo hadn't returned to his home or school and had only left a note on his desk so his family wouldn't worry. He'd purposefully cut ties with his friends and tried to keep as much distance between himself and his family during the span of his efforts to develop his power. He couldn't concentrate when he was constantly worrying whether or not he would drag everyone down around him. Just one look and anyone could tell that something was troubling him, and because of this, it was like a ripple effect that spread outwards, pulling others in like a whirlpool.
He had enough to worry about with trying to get Inoue back. He didn't know if he could handle it if his family or friends got hurt as a consequence of the war, as well.
Inoue…
Just the thought of her was enough to motivate him to work harder. The fear that he wouldn't be able to protect her, that he would fail one of his friends, had always been troubling to him.
Ichigo knew failure well, but when it came to protecting his friends, it wasn't an option.
He wasn't going to start now.
He'd purposefully begun to isolate himself. It was all he could do to convince himself that he didn't need the others beside him to accomplish his task. The more he told himself that it was something he could do without them, that he never needed anybody's help to begin with, the easier it was for him to push forward. He worked harder, he trained longer and he put everything of himself into his actions.
The sooner he got stronger, the sooner he'd have Inoue home where he could keep her safe. He owed that much to her. She was the one friend that had always been there for him, for everyone. She wouldn't have left his side like the others did. She wouldn't have given up without a fight.
Leaning down to pick up another dirty magazine, Ichigo froze when his eyes landed on a picture of a couple locked in a compromising position on one of the pages.
He felt a sick sensation deep in his gut as he took in the red haired woman's uncanny resemblance to Inoue, as well as the man's own likeness to the pale Espada. For a moment, he wondered if Inoue would ever actually…with that man…
Ichigo quickly shook the image from his mind. The notion that Inoue would betray her friends for someone like him was ridiculous. The thought, nevertheless, hurt. It brought on a strange sense of abandonment, of which he was already struggling with since everyone else had given up on helping him. When all he had left to cling to was the thought of Inoue, waiting for him to rescue her - only to imagine her leaving him in the worst possible way - he felt inexplicably devastated.
Chad, Uryuu, Renji…
Rukia…
He'd be alone if Inoue left him, too.
Ichigo clenched his eyes shut as he tried to banish the images from his mind. He couldn't afford to get distracted now, not when he had been working so hard.
"If that picture's really turning you on that much…you should probably go to the bathroom for some privacy," a completely blasé voice said next to his ear.
Ichigo jerked his hand back from the magazine and turned his head away from the bothersome woman. "You should really stop getting so close to me like that," he droned flatly.
"Daydreaming about such things is only natural, you shouldn't be so embarrassed," Lisa said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to start discussing the intimacies of sex so casually.
"I'm not embarrassed." Ichigo tensed his jaw again, trying to ignore her. "You shouldn't be leaving that crap lying around here so openly, anyways. It's distracting," he bit out.
"It's only distracting because you're already thinking about it." She adjusted her glasses nonchalantly. "I can see it in your eyes. The look one has when fantasizing about two bodies entwined in the heat of passion."
Ichigo turned away from her when her words brought the terrible image back to the forefront of his mind. It had been true, he had been thinking about those things. Only it wasn't a fantasy, more like a nightmare. "Just shut up," he ordered rather darkly, his voice not holding even an ounce of the usual casualness that was present during their daily quarrels.
"It must be this particular position, right?" she assumed as she picked up the magazine. "It is rather lascivious."
Ichigo swallowed hard against the burning in his throat. Her lewd descriptions were completely unnecessary and unwanted.
"It's perfectly healthy to be curious, there's nothing to be ashamed of," she stated and angled the book sideways to get a better look. "See, if you turn it this way-"
"I told you to shut up, already," he said quietly as his shoulders began to tense.
"Hey, doesn't she look like that one girl that came here before?" she continued in that straightforward, unabashed way of hers. "…this one's breasts seem much smaller, though."
"Just shut up, damn it!" he whirled around, lashing out.
"Ichigo!" a voice suddenly called from overhead.
The strawberry blonde flinched. After several seconds of silence, his head lifted to the slender man that was making his way down the steps of the upper level.
"Get your shit and get out here," Shinji Hirako ordered offhandedly. He didn't bother to spare the boy a single glance as he made his way into the training grounds, very cavalier in his tone and stride.
Cursing under his breath, Ichigo yanked the apron from his waist and wadded it up to throw on the couch. Not wasting time with delays, he quickly changed over and left his body behind in the safety of the warehouse. By the time he reached the underground facility, Shinji was already waiting for him, standing with his hands tucked partially into his pockets at his hip.
"So, did you finally decide to start training me now?" Ichigo bit out rudely. "I'm getting a little tired of playing everyone's cleaning maid." Ichigo frowned and the blonde man merely chuckled. Reaching up to adjust his hat, Shinji's brown eyes looked at the young man from under the brim of his cap as he grinned.
Before he realized it, the man was gone. Shinji swiftly materialized beside him and Ichigo barely had time to block, let alone curse in surprise as Shinji aimed a broad swinging attack right for his chest. Dashing upwards to escape the cloud of dust, Ichigo looked down on the scene as the smoke began to clear.
"What the hell was that all about?" Ichigo yelled accusingly as he stared down at the blonde man. "You could have at least given me a warning, Shinji!"
"You're never going to make any progress if you don't get over whatever's causing all that inner conflict," he stated bluntly, as if he'd seen straight through him.
"Keh, I don't know what you're talking about," Ichigo scoffed derisively. He looked away, making it a point to dismiss the accusation.
Leaning heavily on his Zanpakuto, Shinji gave the younger man a dubious look. "Really, now?" he said incredulously. "Then I suppose the fact that you've been here for nearly three weeks with absolutely no progress whatsoever happens to be a fluke?"
"Fluke!" Ichigo nearly snorted. "I've made plenty of progress! You've seen it yourself, I can hold out for nearly a second longer."
"Ah, young love. Even the purity of the heart cannot escape the wantonness of the flesh," a deep, dramatic voice quoted deeply from below him.
Turning at the sound, Ichigo's face scrunched up into a frown upon seeing Love sitting leisurely against a large boulder beneath him, holding the erotic magazine that had been the source of all this mayhem to begin with.
"What the hell does love have to do with this?" he protested the idea irritably.
"To be, or not to be. But love is to be…and of all these loves, young love is to be the strongest," he recited nonsensically as he continued to read through the pages.
"That makes absolutely no sense, Love," Rose sighed from behind him, leaning out from around the other side of the massive rock. "Just because that magazine is full of nonsense smut like that doesn't mean it's related to his situation. It's clear the boy has a mental block."
"Damn it, I don't have a mental block!" Ichigo bellowed in dispute. "There's nothing wrong with my brain!"
A girlish giggle was heard from yet another direction. Off to the side, Mashiro stood perkily next to Kensei on one of the taller cliffs of the underground base. "Jeez, they open the door and he walks right in every time," Kensei sighed in amazement as he shook his head.
"Yes, but he makes it so easy!" Mashiro announced gleefully.
"I have read several articles on studies that indicate sexual frustration built up over time can lead to chronic impotence," Lisa inserted casually as she adjusted her glasses and came to stand next to the pair. Mashiro puckered her lips and giggled again beside her.
"Impotence?" Ichigo balked. "I am not sexually frustrated and neither am I impotent!" he declared crossly, attempting to thwart their outlandish allegations. "Where the hell are you all coming from, anyways?" he said accusingly as he looked over to see Hachi quietly watching their fight, as well. "None of you seemed all that interested in watching me earlier when I was cleaning your rooms!"
"Just what is it exactly that's got your panties all in a bunch this time, Ichigo?" Shinji inquired from below him. "Is it that Grimmjow fellow? Because he kicked your ass again, is that it?"
"He didn't kick my ass, I had the upper hand for a long while until my mask shattered," he defended.
"But that's your problem, it did shatter and you did get your ass kicked. It doesn't matter what happened during certain events of your fight. All that counts is the outcome. Still, there's no sense in letting one fight hold you back this much," Shinji stated evenly before sighing in exasperation. "He was making better progress in the months leading up to that scuffle…what a nuisance," he grumbled to himself, as if he found it to be a bother.
"It's not that!" Ichigo yelled testily.
With naught but a quick flash step, Shinji had disappeared from his spot only to reappear standing several feet in front of the boy, still leaning against his sword.
"Then what's the big deal?" Shinji drawled casually, gesticulating a shrug with his free hand. "Even I think you should have gotten farther than this by now."
Ichigo pursed his lips and looked away from the slender man, his fingers clenching tightly around his Zanpakuto. "…it's none of your business," he muttered quietly, trying not to think of how embarrassing it would be to have to share the fact that his 'mental block' was actually stemming from the fact every single one of his friends had cut out on him and that he was afraid Inoue would do the same.
He would never hear the end of it.
"I told you already! He's completely worthless!" Hiyori's loud voice erupted from beneath them. "A lemming would be more trainable than that idiot!"
Ichigo growled under his breath as he cast the short spitfire a dirty look.
"Ichigo," Shinji's suddenly serious voice interjected, preventing the boy from broadcasting any further rebuttals and bickering. "I want you to try something now."
The boy's hard eyes glared at the blonde man for a moment longer before loathingly giving in. "Fine."
"Close your eyes," Shinji ordered and Ichigo gave him a skeptical look before complying. "I want you to imagine me as the embodiment of your frustration."
Ichigo's eyes shot back open upon hearing the command, stunned that Shinji would employ such a strange technique.
"Just do it!" he demanded sternly and after several more averse protests, Ichigo reluctantly obeyed. "Now, take your time…picture me as that person or thing. Believe that I'm it. Imagine the feeling of their reiatsu…the sound of their voice…the look in their eyes," Shinji instructed slowly, venturing a guess in his words that an individual, most likely Grimmjow, was at the heart of all the drama.
It took Ichigo a while to steady his breathing and calm his turbulent mind as he followed the man's words. He pushed back any awkwardness that he was sure to feel in the proceeding occurrences and tried even harder to toss aside all the aggravation he'd accumulated over the past several days.
As he began to relax, his inner thoughts brought forth a picture of the pale Espada, whom he was surprised to find was the innermost source of his current anxiety. He could hear Shinji's voice ahead of him, but he had begun to lose track of what the man was saying. Shinji continued speaking, but Ichigo was gradually losing his ability to understand the words, until the point where his voice had faded completely.
Slowly, he allowed his eyes to slip open. It was startling how quickly the man's blonde hair began to melt into black and his narrow brown eyes widened into that sickening shade of green, just staring at him. Ichigo's chest constricted when the healthy peach of Shinji's skin seemed to dissolve into a pallid shade of something anemic and unsightly.
"Are you afraid of me…Ichigo Kurosaki?" the pale man's noxiously quiet voice called and Ichigo suddenly gasped, taking a hasty step back.
"What the fuck is this?!" he demanded coarsely. He felt his heart racing in his chest as his eyes blinked several times in disbelief, looking for the blonde haired man that had been there only moments prior. When the image failed to disperse, a dizzying wave of instincts flew to the forefront of his mind, telling him not to fight the man, to avoid him at any and all cost.
The apparition suddenly disappeared, only to turn up directly beside him in an instant.
Ichigo cursed and swiftly turned away to dodge in the opposite direction, putting a wide berth between them while he tried to settle his mind.
The Espada moved like Shinji…but he looked like-
His thought was abruptly cut short when he felt a painful blow against his back. The man's foot landed a solid kick to the left of his spine and sent him careening into the dirt.
"You will never be able to save her…because you are afraid of me," the cold voice sounded from beside him and Ichigo pushed himself away, cursing the man's speed.
I'm not afraid of that bastard, he told himself viciously. He just gets under my skin.
Suddenly, every nerve in his body bristled at the thought of him taking Inoue from him, leaving him alone and betraying him. He only had one true friend left in the world and that man took her from him. Literally. He was the cause of it all. He was the one who stole her from the senkaimon. Hatred seethed out from his inner core as the image of the pale Espada began to blur until only his green eyes stood out like a specter. Flashes of her crying in that dream crept into the corners of his vision, leaking out from the depths of his mind unwarranted. Ichigo gripped his sword tight, trying to control the uncomfortable sensation of hyperventilation that was creeping up on him.
Why was he reacting like this?
"Stop it…" he urged quietly, dropping his head so he wouldn't have to look at the Arrancar a moment longer.
"Ichigo Kurosaki…" the man said softly, calling to him in that dreadful way he always said his name. It lacked any inflection and life, and Ichigo clenched his jaw hard against the scenes playing over in his mind. His pale hands were touching her, hurting her, opening her chest, always trying to get at her heart and turn it against him.
…and she let him.
"Stop it," he bit out again, his breaths coming in deeper and faster.
"Ichigo Kurosaki…I ask again, are you afraid of me?"
He sensed the enemy's advance, but before he could get within reach of him, Ichigo had already moved, charging at him forcefully. His mouth was set in a hard, tight line as his fingers wrapped around his pale wrist, successfully stopping the attack with little effort. His reiatsu surged dangerously before leveling his merciless gaze into that of the Espada's empty green one. His face was callous and unforgiving as he slashed his sword straight across the other man's chest, leaving a deep and bloody gouge in its wake.
Shock registered across the man's face, clearly not expecting the unforeseen attack.
Ichigo spared him not a moment of mercy or hesitation. Refusing to release his hold on his slender wrist, his fingers dug in deeper before slamming the male against the nearest boulder. Reason seemed to fail him in every way possible as he lifted his arm, aiming his blade straight for the Espada's heart as nothing but hatred and contempt surged through his veins.
He didn't deserve to live.
He didn't deserve to breathe.
The only thing he deserved was pain.
Torturous and brutal pain.
Without hesitation, his Zanpakuto rushed forward and missed just by several small lengths as the man was fast enough to dodge in time, even as Ichigo's sword delved deep into his side.
"Ichigo!" Several voices of their comrades called in shock and disbelief.
Quickly, the man countered with his sword and pushed Ichigo back enough to remove himself from the death trap against the rocks. He rushed past the boy, only to be stunned into utter speechlessness when Ichigo's hand shot out to stop him, wrapping around his upper arm before slamming him back into the boulder, refusing to let him escape.
His sword was moving towards him again and the man before him cursed.
"Ichigo!" he yelled sternly before hastily donning his hollow mask to dodge the attack. When the blade of Ichigo's Zanpakuto slashed across nothing but dirt and rock, Shinji reappeared behind him to lock his arm around the young man's neck. "Snap out of it, idiot," he said with a touch of annoyance in his voice, gently knocking his fist upside the boy's head several times.
He was silent for a stretch, remaining eerily quiet and calm. Shinji couldn't even feel the movements of his breathing as he stood alarmingly still. It was only seconds later that he finally looked up to the older blonde with a scowl. "Cut it out already, would you?" he griped irritably. "My back hurts enough as it is after that kick you gave me earlier."
"Who cares about your back," Shinji scoffed dryly before adding a wry sigh. "Look what you did to my shirt, you little punk. You better buy me a new one. This was one of my favorites."
"Whatever," Ichigo said as he roughly untangled himself and jerked away from the taller man's arm. He didn't linger. "If I recall correctly, you were the one asking for it," he remarked rather darkly as he walked away, not uttering another word.
Shinji's brows furrowed as he recalled the look he'd seen in Ichigo's eyes. He'd never seen such a cold and resentful look on the boy's face, let alone the sudden and abrupt surge of power he'd displayed. Ichigo hadn't even pulled out his hollow mask.
'Are you afraid of me…Ichigo Kurosaki?'
Shinji had merely used those words as a ploy to antagonize him. Yet, for a brief instance, he could have sworn he actually saw fear in the boy's eyes.
"Geez, what a hormonal brat," he sighed as he continued to watch him saunter off, trying to ignore the stinging pain in his chest and side that the boy had inflicted.
He'd never known Ichigo to be a vengeful person, despite how moody and brooding he could be at times. Shinji had attributed most of his sulking to that whole Grimmjow incident, especially after it had nearly cost him not only his life, but Rukia's as well. No doubt it was worsened by the troubling fact that Orihime Inoue had been abducted.
Now he wasn't so sure.
Whatever it was, he hoped the boy had gotten it all out of his system. If so, perhaps he could finally concentrate on his training and start showing some real progress.
The weather in Hueco Mundo had failed to abate during the past several weeks. Instead, it had only seemed to worsen and grow more furious over time. The storms had gone from mild and relatively unpleasant, to raging and violent. The dunes were swept up into uncontrollable dust storms and on occasion lightning would crack through the air after hours of friction had built up between the immeasurable amount of tiny sand grains.
It was clear that the gale force winds were not showing signs of subsiding. As Ulquiorra walked down the hall and stopped by the girl's room, it would seem even the shelter of the towers were not always enough to completely drown out the sound of the howling tempest. He could hear them even from the halls.
Entering the woman's room had become routine for him lately and even though he was usually civil enough to knock on her door, he knew she would already be sleeping at such a late hour. During the scheduled rounds he made through the tower, both daily and nightly, Ulquiorra had learned easily enough just how deep of a sleeper she truly was. Even though his steps were quiet and light, the presence of his reiatsu, no matter how suppressed, should have been enough to awaken anyone who held the slightest hint of spiritual awareness. The girl was either extremely naïve or extremely trusting to fail to even stir at his presence. She was far too complacent.
As he approached her bed, a small furry mass unfurled itself from the folds of her covers. Lifting a stone white face, the masked dog that usually followed Yammy around dutifully stared him down with raised hackles before growling low and quiet. From the foot of the mattress, it watched him with unwavering suspicion as he paused by the bedside. His green eyes fell on the snarling animal before slowly sliding over to the woman, barely covered by her sheets.
The moon had cast cold and silent shadows over the slopes of her curves, the faint beams of light only disturbed by the occasional cloud of impenetrable dust that blew outside her room. The outline of the bars from her window wrapped her body in cords of blackness, curling around her hips, chest and face as a stray lock of hair twisted around her pale neck like a noose. With one leg resting outside the cocoon of her blankets, her hair had been unwound from the usual braid she kept it in at night while her white gossamer sleeping tank had revealed the color of her breasts nearly to the point of nudity.
Reaching down with a pale hand, his fingers wrapped around her upper arm and pulled her forward until she was sitting upright in a manner that was unsympathetic and rather inconsiderate to her waking moments. She had complained on more than one occasion about his less than delicate approach to waking her up in the mornings. However, he was not going to stand by and call her gently until she saw fit to rouse herself into getting out of bed. Although the girl was usually capable of getting herself up in time, his intervention had still been needed on the occasion she overslept.
This was one of those times.
When she began to slump back limply, he tightened his hold with a firm squeeze. The small dog that watched him from the end of her bed jumped to its feet with a bark and a growl.
"Woman, get up," he said, completely ignoring the animal.
Taking a deep inhalation of air, the girl made a few indistinguishable sounds before she started to slouch back again.
"Woman." He pulled her upright once more with a small jerk of her arm. His persistence paid off and he watched as her brown eyes slowly cracked open before she lifted her head to him. She stared dazedly at his face as if she were looking upon a puzzle and leaned heavily against his hand for support in her drowsy state.
Her eyes blinked several times against the dulcet glow of the moon before recognition and awareness steadily crept into her features. "Ulquiorra?" she whispered quietly. Then, as if the action was utterly beyond her control, a soft yawn escaped her delicate lips as a hand came up to cover her mouth. Lifting her arms, her elbows curled above her head and her back arched and stretched, forcing her breasts to strain against the sheer material of her night tank. Seemingly prompted by the stimulation, her nipples began to harden and press against the translucent fabric.
When she shivered and released a sound of utter delight from the back of her throat, Ulquiorra turned away from the girl to head for her couch. "Get dressed," he ordered, replacing his hand back into his pocket. "You have a meeting with Lord Aizen," he informed as he closed his eyes and leaned back into the cushions of the settee to wait for her.
"This late?" she asked a little fuzzily and fought back another yawn.
"Yes," he replied quietly. "You should be grateful that he has found time in his schedule for you at all. Now get dressed, otherwise you will be late."
When several moments passed without a word from her or the ruffling of fabric, his lashes slid open to watch her from the corner of his eye.
She was staring at him…and then her cheeks blushed.
This woman…
Blinking delicately, her head tilted a little before she finally looked away and lowered her eyes. Lethargic hands pushed the heavy sheets from her waist and her legs slid over the edge of the mattress as she forced herself into motion. Ulquiorra's hard eyes followed her closely as she navigated around the large bed with a smooth, albeit drowsy effortlessness. When she yawned again, his stare casually dropped to the round, shapely backside that was partially exposed through her white underwear - ones that seemed to ride low enough on her hips to accentuate her figure.
The graceful, unforced sway of her hips and the naturally steep slope of her curves were abruptly cut off from view as the bathroom door shut behind her. Ulquiorra stared at the empty space for a moment longer before a high pitched bark sounded at his feet, forcing his eyes away from the scene.
The small canine that had been in her bed seemed to make it his business to snarl at him as it stalked out of the room. Ignoring the dog and its harmless actions, Ulquiorra closed his eyes and relaxed further back into the couch.
That woman always had attracted the strangest pests…
Over the past several weeks, Orihime was beginning to lose track of day and night. Although she had become educated on the phases of the moon well enough to know what time of day it was, it had still been difficult adjusting to the constant darkness with no stars to speak of. Even weirder still, was for her to be cloaked in the darkness of Hueco Mundo one instant, only to be illuminated by the false sun of Las Noches' inner dome the next. It was difficult to shift from one parallel to the other. Such were the drastic transitions that she would see on a daily basis to the point it had driven her internal clock haywire.
Although, now as Ulquiorra led her into the fortress, it was dark on both sides with no light to speak of save for the artificial stars over the dome. The storm that was raging outside in the unsheltered desert was nowhere to be seen inside the safety of the citadel. Still, the contrasting calmness of the palace in comparison to the storm outside had taken a back seat as she pondered over the staggering idea that the moon and all the stars were simply not real. Even the sun that would rise in the mornings was counterfeit.
"I wonder how the ceiling is able to alternate from day to night," she wondered aloud as she lifted her head to examine the forged heavens. Orihime pressed her finger curiously to her bottom lip as she pondered this. "It seems almost impossible. Though, it is nice to see some stars for a change," she observed with a small smile. Her eyes were alight with the twinkling tiny specks in the sky, clearly pleased to see them.
"I am sure it is not as complicated as you make it sound," Ulquiorra replied offhandedly, keeping his responses barely attentive enough to appease her curiosity, no matter how novel it may be.
"What do you think about the stars, Ulquiorra?" He heard her take in a deep and invigorating breath of the fresh air behind him. The chill of the night was cool and crisp, but it seemed to revive her from the haziness of her sleep, nonetheless.
"My opinion on such matters is irrelevant," he remarked, evidently hinting that he was disinclined to continue her nonsensical line of conversation.
"Of course it's relevant!" she protested cheerily and he could hear the smile in her voice. "I love the stars and I love sharing my thoughts with my friends." Her voice sounded warm against the frost of the night.
"Then you will not be disappointed when I fail to contribute to your banter, as we are neither friends nor are we sharing personal thoughts."
"Oh," she began quietly with a slight touch of bereavement in her voice. That hint of deflation in her upbeat manner always seemed to sober her right up every time he blocked her attempts at being sociable. "Yes…I suppose you're right." She resigned and as time went by undisturbed, he assumed she had dropped it. It was several beats of silence later before she hesitantly stated, "…I would still like to try."
Ulquiorra did not respond to her efforts. He knew not to feed into it. To do so would only encourage her to continue down a path that would produce no fruit for her labors.
He heard her sigh softly behind him. Turning his head just enough to get a glance at her from over his shoulder, he studied her from the corner of his eye.
She was gripping her forearm behind her back and staring off into the distant sands. As if it were reaching for her, the cool breeze would pick up and play with her hair and cape, sending them fluttering about her face and body. Sensing his stare, her dark eyes shifted to him. Brazenly, he regarded her a moment longer before she suddenly smiled softly.
Ulquiorra pulled his eyes away and continued to lead them down the path they'd set out for nearly half an hour ago.
"Why does he wish to see me so late at night?" she asked and Ulquiorra found himself to be remarkably grateful that she'd finally shifted the subject of her questions away from stars and friendship.
"Las Noches functions through both the day and night and is frequently at its fullest capacity during the later hours," he answered simply. "There are no reprieves in a castle that was built for the sole purpose of war. Even though you spend these hours asleep, Las Noches' faculties remain operating without end."
"So much work…" she muttered to herself in amazement.
"Did you believe war would not require effort?" Orihime did not miss the tinges of belittlement and ridicule in his voice.
"That's not what I meant," she said a little hurriedly, wanting to fix the false impression he'd clearly gotten from her. "It's just…there's so much devotion that goes into it - on both sides, really. I can't imagine the effort it must take to sustain an entire army. It upsets me to see so many people so passionate about something as horrific as war when all of that energy could be spent on things with much more positive outcomes." She sighed, finding her own words to be a moot point that would never matter. "I suppose it just saddens me whenever I think of the loss of life it will bring. It's such a waste."
"Do you consider fighting for one's beliefs to be wasteful and without purpose?" he inquired evenly, his voice lacking the censorious edge from before.
"No, I…I don't think I've ever looked at it that way before." She thought pensively, her eyes watching the stern plains of his back. "I suppose it isn't wasteful…just sad," she mused softly and suddenly found herself very curious about his role in all of this. "What about you, Ulquiorra? What are you fighting for?"
He was silent as they approached a pair of barred gates positioned between two large pillars. She watched as he placed a hand on one of the gates and pushed it open easily. Several low creaks and groans filled the air as she stopped beside him and looked up at the metal structure with inquisitive and bright eyes.
"Lord Aizen is waiting for you," he stated and closed his eyes to block any further inquiries. "Go."
"You're not going to leave me again…are you?" she asked.
Ulquiorra's eyes slid back over to her.
She stood without another word, unmoved as she continued to stare up at him with a serious yet concerned expression on her round face. Her cheeks were brightly flushed from the chill in the air and her full lips were parted faintly as her lashes cast long shadows over her dark eyes, never moving or blinking against his silence or his stare.
He felt vaguely compelled to remind her he never left her the first time.
"…no."
Gradually, her eyes began to soften and a small, shy smile spread across her lips before she turned into the entrance.
When she stepped forward, Orihime nearly jolted at the pliable and crunchy sensation of grass beneath her feet. Looking around the wide space, her vocal cords stammered against the view that greeted her. There were several trees and flower bushes scattered around the expanse of the covered sanctuary. A large, white fountain sat at the center of it all, where rows and rows of maze-like hedges surrounded the grounds.
There was so much green…so much life. She had almost forgotten how invigorating the lushness of plants and trees smelt like and felt to touch. Already drawn into its enchantment, she reached out to stroke a delicate looking chrysanthemum, completely dazzled. The petals were dewy and soft and the sheer abundance of them left her stunned. She had half expected them to be plastic.
"It's a garden!" she announced in astonishment as she spun on her heel, looking for her warden.
She felt a jolt of dejection when she turned to find him gone. Orihime clutched her hand to her heart, disheartened to realize that he'd left her, yet again, to the mercy of a monster…even though he said he wouldn't. She really should have learned to stop hoping for the best from him.
"Are you looking for someone, Orihime?" the unmistakable lull of Aizen Sosuke's sophisticated voice called from behind her.
Her brown eyes glanced at the man from over her shoulder warily. "No," she began hesitantly as she lowered her gaze to the grass at her feet. "No…I'm not."
"Oh?" he intoned smoothly as he approached and offered her his arm. "Then, please, allow me."
Naturally cautious of the man, she measured him up first before carefully reaching out to take his arm, allowing him to tuck it comfortably in his elbow.
"What do you think of my garden?" he inquired of her.
"I think it's very lovely," she answered honestly. "It's truly beautiful. Although, I do not quite understand how-?" she trailed off, unsure how to put her question into words.
"You're wondering how the presence of life is possible in a world where it is not supposed to exist." He smiled at her bewilderment. "I've already told you, it is only through the benefit of the Hogyoku that all of this-" He gestured around him. "Is possible." Aizen's gaze followed the outline of the garden appreciatively and even Orihime could see it was the power of the Hogyoku he was admiring, not the beauty of the garden. "Amazing, isn't it?" His smile was urbane and refined as she nodded in response, having no choice but to agree with him.
Although she did not approve of the man and his war, Orihime was still overwhelmed by the size of everything in the palace. Las Noches was dizzying in its magnitude and could render anyone speechless the moment one laid eyes upon it. Each hall, passage, room, and corridor was devastating in its enormity and length, let alone the more specific features such as the throne room, or the garden.
"I hope that you have come to enjoy your stay in Las Noches, Orihime," he conversed as he navigated them through the endless labyrinth of hedges, as if he knew their secrets off the back of his hand. "Your happiness is mine."
Orihime felt a knot forming in her throat.
"My home is where I am happiest," she stated quietly. Her voice held no venom, only sadness.
"Well, then," he began when they stopped before the large, animated fountain at the heart of the garden. "It is a good thing that you are home." His dark smile and equally dangerous eyes bore into her as he lifted her chin with his knuckle, broadening his smirk when he saw her chin quiver and her lips purse in effort to fight back her words of hostility.
The black shadows of night only served to make his cordial smile seem so much more frightening.
"Yes," she finally submitted with a hushed, yet reluctant whisper, lowering her eyes from his. She didn't need to feel his reiatsu in order to know what would happen should she disagree. "You're right," she ceded. Even though her words held the distinct taste of defeat, she couldn't help the small surges of defiance that would spark in her eyes.
Instead of being displeased by it, she heard him chuckle softly as she retracted her arm from his.
"I trust Ulquiorra has continued to treat you kindly?" he asked and stepped forward to regard the fountain.
"Yes."
"He has not harmed you in any way?"
"Oh, no, of course not," she said hastily. "Ulquiorra would never do something like that!" Other than his sharp tongue and rather undiplomatic insults, he had shown zero interest in causing her physical harm.
Aizen chuckled again before smiling at her from the corner of his eye. "You enjoy his company?"
Orihime felt a distinct blush creep up her cheeks and refused to answer such a silly question.
"He seems to believe you are unfit to participate in this war," Aizen mentioned, and Orihime felt something in her chest sink. She had thought he believed her to be valuable? Had he not meant it? Had it just been another ploy to keep her pacified? "Do not take it to heart, my dear," Aizen assured her upon seeing the crestfallen expression she had completely failed to mask. "Ulquiorra is not a creature prone to give flattery or soften his words. However, he does seem to think you have quite a bit of potential."
"Potential?" she perked up curiously, unexpectedly foregoing all pretenses that had been hanging in the air before. She was all the more mortified when she heard him chuckle yet again, apparently finding her unchecked interest highly amusing. Hoping to divert the subject, Orihime made her way to the ledge of the fountain where she took a seat and played with the water. "It…it doesn't really matter to me one way or the other." With a silent prayer, she hoped it was just dark enough outside to hide the rosy flush on her face.
Orihime's brow suddenly furrowed in consideration.
Looking at her reflection, she frowned at herself before splashing the water away in annoyance. She didn't care what Ulquiorra or any of them thought of her, Las Noches wasn't her home. They weren't her friends.
…but, Wonderweiss and Grimmjow and that sweet little dog. Even…
"Is something troubling you, Orihime?" He smirked knowingly, seeing the conflict in her eyes.
"No…I…" She was having a hard time sorting through all the thoughts. She was so confused.
Unexpectedly, a deafening noise thundered out from the far end of the garden.
From across the lawn, a loud and rumbling explosion broke through the silence of the night. The blast illuminated the trees and shrubbery around it as, to her horror, several more followed the blast immediately thereafter. One by one, they detonated down a path that aligned directly with them.
The explosions seemed to move faster than she could make sense of, sending rubble and dirt into the air as they shook the very ground under her feet. It was chaotic and left no time for her to ponder over what was happening around her.
"Look out!" she cried, rushing forward as that deep ingrained sense of protection took over her body, bursting out from the very core of her being as panic completely overrode fear. Orihime placed herself before Aizen, directly between him and the blasts, before lifting her hands and quickly spreading her arms wide as her shield immediately followed thereafter.
The serious, determined look on her face began to shift into one of deep concentration as her eyes clenched shut to brace against the enormous shock wave of the accumulation of blasts. When she felt her shield begin to crack, her feet dug into the ground as she put more force into her incantation, sheltering them in the safety of the golden glow of her Santen Kesshun until the danger had passed.
Time seemed to stand still as the dust slowly faded from the air, taking with it the chaotic abruptness of the unprovoked and mysterious attack that left behind an empty and gaping silence.
Calling off her shield, Orihime stood unmoving as she stared in confusion at the damage that had been done to the once beautiful garden, wondering what exactly had just happened.
And then,
"Thank you, Orihime." She heard from behind her.
Orihime felt her breath catch in her throat as a cold chill went down her spine. Very slowly, it began to dawn on her what she had just done.
As if she did not want to see the truth of her actions, she reluctantly and gradually turned with wide and disbelieving eyes until she set her sights on the smiling face of Aizen Sosuke - the man she had just protected with her life.
"I…I didn't…"
"I don't know what I would have done without you," he said with smooth and dark delight. She stood frozen in place as she felt him lift her hand in his, bringing it close to his lips as a strange sense of disgust sank into the pit of her stomach.
"I…didn't…" Her entire world seemed to narrow in the blink of an eye. Where nothing seemed to make any sense and everything was backwards. Where she felt at home in her enemy's war castle. Where she made friends with his army. Where she felt her heart stutter for one of his soldiers; a man that hadn't been Kurosaki-kun.
Where she had protected the most dangerous man in the world's life with her own.
"I didn't, " she repeated desperately and suddenly she felt very dizzy. Aizen was one of the strongest men in the three dimensions. He hadn't needed her protection, but she had given it anyway. It had been instinct, but still…
"Truly, you have my gratitude."
His terrifyingly sharp, gleaming eyes seemed to mock her and approve of her all at once.
Orihime ripped her hand from the gentle grip of his fingers before it could touch his lips. She ran as fast as she could away from him. The endless warren of hedges and trees seemed to mean nothing as she pushed through all of it and dove around their sharp, thorny edges that altered the beauty of the garden into something wicked and painful as they pricked at her skin and snagged on her clothes. There were so many doors and halls and lights in the darkness of the night that she didn't recognize, but didn't care.
All she wanted was to leave that place.
That awful, terrible place…
"Follow her," Aizen's empty voice ordered Ulquiorra as he calmly stepped out from behind the large wall of shrubbery he had been trailing them from, always keeping a respectable distance. "Make sure that threat on her life isn't followed through," he said as he turned from the scene with a blank expression. "Find out who's attempting to kill her and dispose of them immediately." The lack of much inflection in his voice hinted at his displeasure that an attempt had been made on her life. An attempt that had been made in his presence, no less. And it was her life they were after, no doubt. For no being that had an ounce of self-preservation in Hueco Mundo would have ever tried that on Aizen Sosuke.
Without a word, Ulquiorra stepped forward, heading in the direction their captive had disappeared in - silently doing as his master had bid.
Orihime couldn't seem to catch her breath. Every turn she made only led her down more and more empty halls. Never escaping, never changing. Las Noches was a never ending mental trap. It worked itself into her mind, overwhelming her with its size. It was desolate and haunting, yet beautiful and magnificent. It made her fear it, then feel comforted by it. It was an oasis in the desert, and it was slowly becoming her unknowing tomb. The people, the places - it was trying to change her.
All she could picture was the way she had thrust herself into that explosion to protect Aizen.
She hadn't meant to, not in the way one protected their comrade or master. It had been instinctual. To care for and protect those around her, no matter whom they may be, had always been embedded into every cell of her body. It was just the way she was, but when he'd looked at her like that, pleased beyond recognition that she had actually shown something akin to loyalty, Orihime couldn't take it.
Aizen Sosuke didn't need her protection. He didn't need anyone's protection, and certainly, she didn't want to give him protection. He was strong beyond reasoning. She knew it was just her inbuilt nature acting on impulse, but knowing that did not take away the sense of guilt inside her.
She wanted to see her friends. She wanted to talk to Tatsuki-chan so she could tell her everything would be alright. She wanted to look upon the picture of her brother nestled in his shrine on her shelf at home and ask him for guidance. She wanted Ishida-kun and Sado-kun by her side so she could feel safe, tucked securely between them, when they made her laugh. She wanted Kuchiki-san and Abarai-san to tell her to be strong.
She wanted to see Kurosaki-kun's face so he could make her heart skip the way it was supposed to…not when she looked into mysterious green eyes.
Orihime nearly collapsed against a pillar hidden in a far off, dark corner of Las Noches. She slid to her knees and pressed her shoulder into the cold marble for support. Looking around her, Orihime's eyes slowly widened when she realized she had absolutely no idea where she was. She couldn't have been inside the dome, for there was a storm brewing outside the long, open balcony on the other side of the hall she was in.
The wind howled wildly and whisked riotous amounts of sand across the exposed terrace. Her dark eyes bolted from one end of the hall to the other, suddenly feeling very alone and very frightened.
"Ulquiorra?" she whispered quietly upon hearing something that she couldn't quite distinguish. A tightness worked itself through her eyes and she fought back tears when she had trouble seeing through the darkness. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her skirts as she bit her lip nervously.
"Wow, Grimmjow said you cried a lot," a young, feminine voice intoned. "But I really didn't believe him until now."
Orihime whipped her head around in a panic, stopping short at the unusual sight of a bright pink eye peering back at her intently.
A small, petite girl with pastel green hair sat in the semi-awkward position of reverse straddling a handsome sleeping male. They sat on the ledge of a broad window that was open to the view of the desert, much like the one in her own room, but so much larger. With his back resting against the frame of the window and his arms crossed behind his head, the unfamiliar man seemed altogether impervious to his surroundings and the young girl in his lap, of whom continued to stare at Orihime inquisitively.
So stunned was she that she seemed to forget herself for a moment before finally finding it in her senses to feel consternated. "I…I'm not crying!" she protested with a sniffle.
"Sure smells like you were crying." She chuckled to herself, showing off a few small canines. "Who would've thought Grimmjow was actually right about something."
"Grimmjow-kun?" Orihime asked hesitantly and felt some degree of relief at hearing a familiar name. "I'm sorry if I've bothered you. It's just…I seem to have lost my way."
The girl gave her a reproachful look before abruptly raising her fist and slamming it down directly between her knees, hitting the sleeping man squarely in the testicles. "Starrk! Wake up!" she demanded.
Immediately, the once peaceful looking male doubled over. His face drained of all color as he leaned forward and dropped his forehead onto the girl's shoulder, reaching down to cradle his wounded parts. Even Orihime cringed in discomfort as he seemed to shiver in agony for several seconds.
"Goddammit, Lilynette," he wheezed. "How many times do I have to tell you not to wake me up like that?" he groaned out painfully.
"Don't complain to me about that crap now. You shouldn't have been sleeping in the first place," Lilynette scoffed, rolling her head back to glare at the man she sat upon. "There's a strange girl here in the tower."
"So what," he grumbled, not bothering to lift his head. "What do you want me to do about it?"
"Idiot!" she seethed and her fist lifted again with all the intention of landing another devastating blow.
Instantly, he reached up and locked his hand around her small wrist, stopping her.
"Don't even think about it, you little brat," he ground out against her shoulder, his voice holding a hint of a growl while his sharp eyes glared into the back of her head. Then, as if just becoming aware of her presence, he blinked those grey eyes to Orihime. "Huh?"
She lifted her hand to her chest and shrank back in uncertainty, trying to assess his temperament and whether or not he may mean her harm. Several moments of silence passed them by before,
"Isn't that Ulquiorra's mistress?"
Orihime's face turned dead white as she jerked her head away, hanging it low in mortified embarrassment as a droll look of disbelief settled over her slumped figure.
He was completely uncouth!
"I don't think so." Lilynette scratched her chin in contemplation, reflecting on the girl before her until her young face abruptly scrunched up in annoyance. "Shouldn't you already know this, Starrk?" she said accusingly to her companion.
"What the hell are you talking about?" he sighed and relaxed back against the window casing. "All I know is what I hear around Las Noches."
"She's the girl Lord Aizen brought in from the living world. You should have been paying better attention!" she admonished. "You were at the conference when he introduced her to everyone!" Hearing her words and seeing his wavy hair, as well as a glimpse of his mask, Orihime managed to connect his face to one of the many Espada that had been seated at the table during her introduction.
"Is that so?" he said, utterly uncaring, as he resumed his previous position and lifted his arms to lock his hands behind his head.
"Um…I'm really sorry to be a bother," Orihime began warily. "But, if you could please direct me back to the fourth tower, I would be very grateful."
"Oh! She is that girl!" Lilynette declared as if solving a puzzle. "I don't see any other reason for her to want to be around Ulquiorra." Orihime watched as the small girl crawled out of his lap and began edging closer on hands and knees, narrowing the gap between them until they were nearly face to face. She leaned back as the younger girl leaned in. Her peach lips puckered out and her bright pink eye squinted in on her. Without effort, her petite form slid smoothly from the rim of the outcrop, maneuvering down until she had settled before the redheaded girl in her sights. "Hm," she hummed quietly before her eye unabashedly slid to Orihime's chest.
Orihime blinked in astonishment when she felt a pair of small hands pressing against her breasts, lifting them gently.
"W-wh-wha-what are you doing?!" She gulped awkwardly when the girl only continued to examine her with frank openness.
"Yeah," she affirmed to herself, as if answering a personal question. "They're as soft as they look." She nodded once before angling her head back to the man behind her, never taking her eye off Orihime's chest. "Hey, Starrk, you should feel these!"
"No, no!" Orihime insisted adamantly. She was actually used to crazy women and fellow classmates pulling those pranks on her, but never a man! "That's really not necessary!" She waved her hands before her frantically.
"It's okay," Lilynette assured, like it was totally normal. "His hands are much bigger, he can get a better feel for them."
Orihime felt her mouth go dry, but was relieved when the man only ignored them and continued sleeping, remaining wholly uninterested.
"Please, if you could just tell me how to get back to the fourth tower?" Orihime persevered and tried to get back on the subject. "I got separated from my friend and don't know my way back."
"You mean Ulquiorra?" Lilynette countered.
"Y-yes," Orihime nodded softly, not sure why she had been trying to hide it. Perhaps because they thought she was his mistress.
"Maybe if you didn't cry so much, you'd have a better idea of where you're going!" she reproached, as if the older girl were a hopeless case. "Although, it's not really surprising with the company you keep. That guy could make a rock cry," she intoned with morbid sarcasm. "He's totally heartless."
"That's not true," Orihime contended. "Ulquiorra can be kind in his own way."
Lilynette blinked at her for a long moment, staring her down with a blank expression - waiting for the joke attached to the end of that sentence. Suddenly she burst into a fit of laughter. When tears began to form in the corner of her eye and her chuckling only continued to bubble up from her chest, Orihime realized that she was laughing at her.
"I-it's true!" she proclaimed. Indeed, it was true to a point. Her day to day interactions with Ulquiorra were far more calm and tolerable than some of her run-ins with the other Espada. "Ulquiorra hasn't been the most social person, but he's been pleasant enough."
"Sure, sure," the girl drawled quietly and swatted her own laughter away with a few waves of her hand. "Only because Lord Aizen ordered him to be," she said with one final titter.
Orihime didn't even search for the words to explain it. She and Ulquiorra didn't always see eye to eye, so trying to defend his honor was, unsurprisingly, proving more difficult than she'd imagined. Besides, it seemed the young Arrancar before her already had her opinions about him set in place.
"…have you known him very long?" she abruptly inquired, suddenly curious.
"Ulquiorra? Hm, yeah, I guess now that you mention it." She leaned back and began to rub her chin again, crossing her forearm under her modest chest. "Other than that arrogant bastard Baraggan, Ulquiorra has been at Los Noches the longest. Actually…he was here even before we arrived." She paused, as if recalling a forgotten memory. "I remember when Lord Aizen first introduced us, it was so odd…he made it sound like Ulquiorra never had the Hogyoku used on him," she said as her mouth formed into a thin line and the look in her eye grew slightly more serious. "I think he was a Vasto Lorde like us. That was way back when there were only three of us, back when we didn't even have numbers. Nowadays he's the Cuatro Espada."
"Cuatro?" Orihime repeated.
"Yeah, you know, our ranks," Lilynette supplied and Orihime recalled the time she had healed his arm as a demonstration for Aizen. She had seen his bare chest and he'd been tattooed with a black number four on his left pectoral, if she remembered correctly. As well, Grimmjow had made her restore one of those tattoos on his back the day she had been brought there. She had barely noticed them at the time, so distracted was she by the things going on around her that she had nearly missed it. "It was always real strange with that guy, though. He never moved in rank, never advancing or demoting."
"Advancing and demoting?" Orihime shook her head mildly, her brow furrowing over her eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't follow?" she intoned, urging for clarification.
"It means that no matter who died in status above or below him, his rank never changed," she stated simply. "Ulquiorra Cifer has always been the Cuatro Espada."
Although Orihime did not completely understand the small bit of information, it still gave her a strange and unsettling feeling to hear it, all the same.
Her troubled eyes lifted back to the young girl before her, intending to inquire more about her mysterious warden, only to miss her chance.
"Lilynette," Starrk's calm voice called out from behind them, stopping the small girl from speaking further on the matter. Orihime blinked in confusion when she looked up just as those piercingly grey eyes slid open. Lilynette seemed to immediately pick up on his warning even though Orihime was left perplexed at the relaxed, yet alert look on the man's face as he stared into the dark hall behind her.
Almost in answer to her bewilderment, Orihime felt the distinctly familiar coldness of her warden's reiatsu begin to surround her like a glove.
Whipping her head around, Orihime's chest flooded with relief as a pair of severe green eyes manifested out from the shadows. They stared openly at the lethargic Espada who languidly stared back in silence.
"Ulquiorra," Orihime chirped in relief and pushed herself from the floor. She was more than ready to go back to her room. At the sound of her voice, his hard eyes shifted to her figure. Not wasting a second, the girl started in on her apologies and began yammering about her efforts to find her way back after unintentionally becoming lost and how she met 'these two kind people' who were nice enough to help her.
Ulquiorra didn't listen to a word of it as his eyes gave the Primera Espada one last glance of acknowledgement before turning away, knowing the girl would follow after him.
"Oh!" She paused shortly and turned back to her unlikely companions. "Thank you for keeping me company," she expressed gratefully with a gentle bow of her head to show her gratitude, and then they were gone.
Lilynette stared after the pair from her position on the floor where Orihime had left her, pondering over the peculiar girl with vague interest. "Do you think it's okay to leave her with that guy?" she mulled aloud.
"Lord Aizen wouldn't have left her with him if it wasn't." He sighed in annoyance as she crawled forward into his lap again. "It's not like it's any of our business, anyways," he said and leaned his head back into the cradle of his hands once more, not bothering to mind as she rested her cheek against his chest and collapsed on him.
"Yeah…" she hummed in agreement as her leg hung over his hip, swinging it lazily over the ledge while she stared out into the ferocity of the desert storm. "I guess you're right."
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TBC
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