The Furthest Planet From The Sun

by Mahi-Mahi

He took her away...far from the warmth of the sun.

10. Chapter 10

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CHAPTER 10

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The light from the monitor was the only illumination in the dark chamber of the security office. It flickered and reflected in a pair of bright green eyes as files were opened and scanned intimately for important details.

Ulquiorra stood before the numerous monitors aligned on the wall before him as his pale hand reached up to enter a code on the touch screen, unlocking another record for him to inspect. The data stored in the Las Noches catalog was vast and expansive. It held information on every individual that had been involved with the fortress, from the first date Aizen Sosuke had erected the castle walls from the simple foundation Baraggan had built centuries prior - an entire palace birthed to life from the elderly Espada's brainchild.

He'd barely had time to appropriately investigate the issue of the Arrancar informant who'd assisted in the Shinigami's effort to retrieve the human girl. As it was, it seemed every time he left the tower she had gotten herself into some degree of trouble, forcing him to abandon every task at hand and devote the rest of the day to her. It was a nuisance.

He had contemplated moving her room and relocating her to a more private section of the tower, but he knew it would only be a matter of time before she would grow just as comfortable there as she was in her current location. She would cause just as much trouble, if not even more so.

Regardless, until he could address the matter of the attempt on her life, moving her from her room was an option that could avoid further difficulties.

Entering a new folder, his green eyes quickly skimmed over several lines of names and ranks, looking for one in particular. When he reached the bottom of the list, he was unsurprised when his eyes landed on the profile picture of one Arturo Plateado.

With seafoam green hair and a mask that stretched generously around the right half of his head, the power-hungry Arrancar was unmistakable.

Ulquiorra's brow lowered slightly when he opened the index containing Arturo's information and noticed a distinct pattern standing out in the Arrancar's list of duties. The catalog had shown him as being registered for security detail on the nights the Shinigami had attempted to invade Las Noches. Arturo was a Numeros, assigned to the East wing of the palace. Security detail was not his normal duties, nor was he permitted to deviate from his allotted district and enter such a restricted area.

Reaching down, Ulquiorra entered the date and time of the first Shinigami invasion on the keyboard. Accessing the data, the security footage from that night was quickly pulled up and displayed on the monitors, all of which were mounted in varying sizes on every wall in the room.

He stood, watching impassively as the recording of the Numeros in question played out before him. His image was shown walking straight out the Western gates of Las Noches, not even bothering to patrol the halls to keep up appearances. Ulquiorra pressed a single key, switching to the monitor positioned outside the castle walls. From there he watched the figure of Arturo Plateado disappear out into the desert where the cameras could not follow.

As Ulquiorra entered the most recent date of the Reapers' attempted invasion, he tried to dissect the man's intentions. What could he gain out of aiding the Shinigami? Most Arrancar that were acquainted with Arturo knew the man detested the self-proclaimed Death Gods. It was well enough known that he had a particularly nasty past with them, having been defeated at their hands and banished to Hueco Mundo after his failed attempt at destroying the Soul Society.

He was a man that served no cause but his own.

When the video was launched, his eyes focused once more on the image of the green haired man making his way through the halls.

It hadn't been but seconds into the recording that he sensed a disturbance in the woman's room. With a hand resting in his pocket Ulquiorra turned from the screen and stared off into the direction of the fourth tower with narrowed eyes. He could feel someone removing her from her cell…but he could scarcely believe who the culprit was.

An ember of annoyance sparked to life inside him as he turned on his heel and exited the building to deal with the situation immediately.

By the time he'd left the small security fort behind, she'd been completely severed from the fourth tower.

Perhaps he should reconsider moving her room… he thought distractedly as he walked through the large passage that led into the inner dome of Las Noches. Emerging from the tunnel, he was immediately cast in sunlight as he stepped inside. Tempting as the thought was, he knew it would only delay the inevitable; Hollows would crawl to her like insects to a flame, no matter where he hid her.

---

Aizen was smiling down on them rather enigmatically. She couldn't quite read the meaning behind that smile, at least not as well as she could usually decipher his illusory masks. It was making her slightly nervous and, quite honestly, he was succeeding very well in getting under her skin.

Harribel stood by her side resolutely. With her arms crossed under her chest, she remained unmoved like an impervious fortress.

Orihime didn't like the way Aizen was looking at the female Espada.

Not one bit.

"I must say, I am quite surprised, Harribel," Aizen began smoothly. His hand lifted from the arm of his throne, just enough to casually rest his cheek against the knuckles of an elegantly curled fist, looking very relaxed and cultivated in his slightly slouched posture. Still, the wrathful gleam in his eye had betrayed his perfect mask. Slightly confused by his mood, Orihime could not wholly understand why until his cold voice snaked down the stairs and slithered into her ears.

"You wouldn't be trying to take my precious Orihime away from me, would you…Harribel?"

The blonde woman's arms slowly unwound themselves from her chest as she stood quietly in the face of his silently reproving gaze. Her gem-like eyes seemed to waver momentarily before lowering to the many steps leading up to his throne. "Forgive me, My Lord," Harribel intoned candidly. "You misunderstand my actions. I merely wish to plead for your consent to use her powers in healing my fraccion…she is dying, My Lord."

"As you have already stated numerous times before…" he droned, bored of her pretexts. "I believe we have already established this fact, Harribel," he reminded her with steadily waning patience. "Perhaps I am failing to make myself clear enough in seeking an answer as to why you seem to have found it necessary to remove Orihime from the safety of her room without consent?" His voice was unnervingly barren of its usual velvety persuasion and remained so frighteningly reproachful that Orihime had begun to feel an uneasy sensation growing in the pit of her stomach. He had the blonde woman so entirely pinned under his gaze, a woman who seemed so strong and determined, that she was now completely unable to meet her master eye to eye.

"Did you even consider the distress you have put our guest through, Harribel?" Aizen asked darkly.

Harribel's eyes narrowed in a manner that Orihime could only distinguish as self-disappointment. The Espada turned her head to the side, unwilling to interrupt his verbal chastisement.

"Were you truly so unwilling to seek out my help that you would take such a risk?" he asked again and Orihime took note of the slight easing in his tone. At the shift, she couldn't help but hope that he would give the Espada a chance to better explain herself.

Even so, if he would not listen to her words, Orihime would intervene soon. She would speak to him and with luck she could persuade him. The female Espada had asked for help and Orihime had every intention of giving it to her. She had no desire to stand there quietly while he interrogated Harribel for something she could not control. The woman's companion was dying and in order to save her Harribel had taken a self-risk far greater than what Orihime had originally thought Arrancar were capable of. Such an act had already given her Orihime's respect and admiration.

"I beg your forgiveness, Lord Aizen." Harribel bowed her head deeply, feeling his eyes on her every move, her every breath. "I could not inconvenience you with such a trifling matter."

"So you would risk the safety of Orihime over such a thing, instead?" he interrupted with narrowed eyes. "How very inconsiderate of you, Harribel." Orihime felt a wave of reiatsu wash over them, unmistakable in its intensity. It was not overpowering or unbearable. Rather, it was deceptively gentle and mild as it effortlessly settled over them. "Perhaps you are not aware of this, but I am not particularly fond of my soldiers taking liberties with my belongings."

Orihime knew in that moment, it wasn't her supposedly compromised safety he was displeased with. It was that one of his soldiers had taken it upon themselves to act on their own and tamper with something that didn't belong to them.

Aizen's smile slowly returned to his face, assuming that deceiving façade of kindness, and instantly Orihime felt that dreaded fear settle in her gut once more.

Harribel immediately fell to one knee, pressing the knuckles of her fist into the marble flooring by her feet as she bowed her head deeply. "I am entirely to blame, My Lord. I have no excuse for this treason against you," she stated somberly. "I will readily accept any punishments you deem necessary without complaint."

"Will you, now?" he chuckled amusedly. "That is indeed noble of you, Harribel." His smile widened and Orihime felt uncomfortable just looking at the twinkle in his eye. "However, this doesn't change how terribly disappointed I am in you."

"I see that now, My Lord," Harribel uttered in a quiet voice. "My impudence is unacceptable. I…I could not bring it upon myself to ask for your aid sooner, not with the Hogyoku so damaged. To have requested the powers of the Hogyoku to heal my fraccion would have been dishonorable. I am sorry to have failed you," she said, not moving from her kneeling position. "It was not my intention."

Orihime looked away.

Something about watching the proud woman kneeling before that tyrant made her stomach churn.

"Perhaps you should have considered this sooner, before you decided to use her for your own needs," he began in a mocking tone of prudence. Despite the smirk on his face, even she could hear the ice in his voice. The clear presence of finality was ringing in the air and Orihime knew what was coming next, what he was going to do to her…something that she simply could not allow.

She wouldn't allow Aizen to punish the woman for being loyal to her friends.

"Wait." Orihime swiftly stepped forward, unable to stand listening to his passive aggressive degrading insults any longer. "Please, she meant no harm to me." She slowly took a measured step in front of the kneeling woman, just enough not to patronize either parties in the room with her interference. "Please," she repeated a bit more evenly after taking a deep breath to gather her courage. "I am just as much to blame…Lord Aizen." She tried desperately to hide the bitterness in her voice. She'd never directly addressed the tyrant with his preferred honorific, and although it did not diminish the effort it took to force the words from her mouth, she was more than willing to make such small sacrifices if it meant she could spare the life of Harribel's companion. "I encouraged her to use my powers. It was my idea," she lied, praying that her voice would not give or stutter under the pressure of his heavy gaze.

"Oh?" he chuckled elegantly and Orihime got the distinct impression he wasn't falling for her ruse in the least. "And how might you have gone about this endeavor, Orihime? How did you manage to seduce my powerful Tres Espada into following your lead?"

Orihime nearly reeled. Tres? Harribel was that strong?

"Then again, you do seem to hold a peculiar power of persuasion over some of my army."

"I…" she hesitated and swallowed the thick lump in her throat. She could feel Harribel's sharp teal eyes on her back as she spoke. Meanwhile Aizen's intrigued smirk tilted in amusement, causing her to falter momentarily. Suddenly feeling the true weight of the situation around her, Orihime lowered her gaze and bit her lip as she turned to glance at the woman from the corner of her eye. Wringing her hands together, Orihime took yet another steadying breath as she tried to gather her wits to help the woman out.

She had promised her that much, hadn't she?

"H-Harribel-san," she started tensely. "You said your friend was gravely ill. What exactly is it that's wrong with her?" she asked, reiterating what they had already established.

The blonde woman was silent, clearly not sure where the younger woman was taking that line of conversation. Her teal eyes shifted to Aizen, as if to ensure he had no objection with the human female's efforts. When he merely stared back at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue, she looked back to Orihime and answered.

"We believe she may have a malady that only affects Hollows," Harribel began steadily. "She has been exhibiting signs suggesting that it may be a disease, possibly something unknown. She has suffered through fevers and infections that have thus far proven incurable. Nothing that we have tried previously has worked," she said and then paused. "I…don't believe she has much time."

Continuing to wring her hands together anxiously, Orihime nodded in an act to reassure herself.

"L-Lord Aizen," Orihime began and had to swallow yet another lump in her throat. She lifted her head to level her eyes with the man sitting upon his throne, hoping to get her point across fully and clearly. She always did have an active imagination, perhaps she could finally put it to good use and come up with a story that was passable enough to be believed. "If this truly is a disease, perhaps you should consider the ramifications of an illness spreading through your army before the war. It could leave you unprepared to face the Shinigami," she stated shakily. "You said it yourself, the Hogyoku is damaged. It would be unwise to risk losing your entire army over a disease, only to be unable to rebuild it with the weakened Hogyoku. It…it could cost you the war." Her fingers curled in her palms tightly, not even realizing how hard she'd been chewing on her cheek until she nearly flinched in discomfort.

Aizen was chuckling at her again and Orihime wanted to resent him for it. She'd only been trying to save a life and he was mocking her for the effort.

"That is a very interesting theory," he said smoothly. "It's quite the sensational assumption, but a solid attempt nonetheless."

"Please," she said with a hard breath, suddenly dropping her hands in aggravated frustration. "Just let me help her, you have nothing to lose from it. If anything, you could study my abilities further. I've never healed physical ailments outside of wounds and injuries attained in battle. I know I can do this," she announced firmly, tired of how easily he seemed to toy with his subordinates and their welfare. When it came to life, Orihime never made light of it. To her, life was something precious, meant to be cherished, not discarded.

His brow arched curiously at her impressive bravado, but any further words she had to share on the matter were cut off when a loud creak sounded at the far end of the room, disturbing the fleeting silence. The large door groaned under its own massive weight as it slowed to a stop and sat ajar.

Orihime's head whipped around at the noise, trying to cease the sudden skipping of her heartbeat when she saw the familiar green eyes of her warden staring back at her from the now open entryway. She felt Harribel bring herself to a stand once more as the pale Espada calmly strolled into the room, hands resting casually in his pockets as his green eyes shifted from Orihime to Harribel.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ulquiorra asked tonelessly. His voice was deep and quiet as his hard stare never left the blonde woman responsible for the latest nuisance.

Orihime's hand instantly lifted to her neck, allowing her fingers to gently brush over the small mark under the collar of her jacket where a tiny blemish, just barely there, lay hidden. It was a small smear that had been nearly imperceptible to begin with. Whether caused by his lips or the graze of his teeth, she was unsure. It had only faded in the few short days since, something that was only scarcely, slightly, noticeable when she just happened to blush hard enough.

The fingers resting on her neck snapped up to cup her cheek, feeling the heat pooling there.

Was she blushing?

Her lashes fluttered nervously before she cast a curious glance at the stoic male, tentatively biting her lip. She tried to forget that moment, but the little mark on her neck made it hard. Despite his callous words, he hadn't been particularly rough with her. On the contrary, his touches had been intoxicatingly soft. But her skin had always bruised easily and the thought of his lips leaving stains on her skin was causing her already worsening blush to grow all the more inflamed.

Still…the way he had talked to her and the words he had said were beyond vicious. She had seen him since then many times and had tried hard not to think about it. When she noticed he'd made sure to keep his jacket zipped clear up to his chin from then on, as if it would somehow ward off her desire to touch him in such a way again, it had been a rather stinging blow. It was rare for him to leave his jacket partially open to begin with, but apparently her prying fingers had quickly put an end to that reign rather effectively.

Reliving the hurtful things he'd said was harder for her than she knew it should have been and even though she could not completely understand his way of viewing things, he didn't have to make a fool of her either. It wasn't enough for him to simply disagree with her claims of friendship, love, and how the heart tethered those things together. This time, he'd deliberately gone out of his way to quell her hopes and efforts to reach out to him…and then stomp on any embers that may remain.

Orihime never would have done such a wounding thing to him, she could barely stand to think of even treating someone so horridly. She would never want to see him hurt. She didn't want to see anyone hurt.

Perhaps she had pushed him too far? After all, he was the one always warning her off, telling her to leave it alone. Orihime's lips parted softly on a quiet breath when the thought of severing whatever feeble bond she'd managed to create with Ulquiorra sent a jolt of pain through her chest. It had been a bond that she knew was mostly nonexistent, but even in her mind she thought they were at least 'familiar' in some ways and the simple idea of severing that tiny, infinitesimal, threadbare link…saddened her.

There were times that she knew, in the very depths of her heart, that if she could simply get her arms around him and hold him close to her chest that he would understand what she had been trying to tell him. She was certain that if she could just hold him tight enough and embrace him until her heartbeat became one with his, he would no longer find her ideals so unnecessary.

Attempting to remain inconspicuous, her dark brown eyes stole another glance at the pale man longingly.

She knew she could make friends with him, if he'd just let her.

Unfortunately, Ulquiorra was neither interested in caring about her appeals or listening to them. It seemed with Ulquiorra, there was no middle ground. It was either one way or the other, there could be nothing between.

Orihime wanted to groan in forlorn frustration.

She couldn't let it go.

Or rather, she couldn't get him out of her head.

However, the thought of him left her uncomfortably restless. Something about being near him overloaded her senses, it sent a sense of urgency through her. There was a need there. It was new to her, but a deep, decidedly female instinct in her reacted to it regardless.

"Orihime…"

His words played over and over in her mind, the cold feeling of his lips on her ear when he said them, the empty look in his eyes when he pulled away.

Her heart wrenched in her chest.

Why was he so cruel to her?

"Orihime…"

A sigh.

Was someone speaking?

After another gentle clearing of the throat cut through the air, Orihime blinked and peeled her eyes away from the figure of her warden that she had been gazing at from the corner of her eye, hidden under her lashes. She quickly lifted her chin and shifted her attention back to the throne where Aizen sat, staring down at her with dark amusement.

"Yes?" she replied, unreservedly oblivious and unfazed by having not noticed how badly she had been staring.

Aizen sighed once more and motioned for the lone figure standing near the massive doorway behind them to move forward. Orihime was momentarily surprised. She had utterly failed to notice the room had gained another occupant until that moment.

"Tosen, escort our guest back to her room," Aizen requested amiably. "I would like to have a few words with Ulquiorra and Harribel…in private." Orihime's throat instantly closed up upon hearing his order.

Would Ulquiorra be reprimanded for allowing Harribel to remove her from her room - and for her to be taken to Aizen, no less - with personal intentions?

And Harribel? Orihime prayed she would not receive a penalty for an act that Orihime, personally, found to be admirable.

When she felt the presence behind her, Orihime glanced at the dark skinned male with untrusting eyes before turning back to Aizen. "You brought me to Hueco Mundo for a reason," Orihime suddenly stated. "At least let me help. It's what I want to do…I am your guest, after all, aren't I?" She delivered her announcement with sincere eyes, her voice holding no hostility despite the firmness of her words. Turning on her heel, Orihime left the room, ignoring the amused grin set across Aizen's mouth.

She may not have been antagonistic in her statement, but the firm set of her lips gave her away in such a manner that even the blind man standing in the room had seen how she'd called him out.

When the doors closed behind her, Aizen smiled down at his two soldiers standing silently at the base of the stairs leading to his throne. His sharp, penetrating eyes bore into the woman for several long seconds and, upon receiving no visible response, his gaze shifted to rest on Ulquiorra standing several feet to her right. "Were you aware of any of this, Ulquiorra?"

"No," Ulquiorra answered evenly before silence reigned once more.

"Could it be that I am not making myself clear enough in our meetings when I say that I do not want anyone interfering with that girl during her stay here," he stated, if only to strike anxiety into Harribel and perk up Ulquiorra's ears. "She has been placed under Ulquiorra's care for a reason, Harribel." His eyes narrowed for a moment as he considered the intrusion to his schedule. "Neither do I particularly enjoy being interrupted whilst in the midst of important experiments," he expressed with some displeasure.

"I apologize for the disruption this has caused you, My Lord. I will ensure it does not happen again," she said humbly.

Aizen's eyes narrowed further. His chin rested lightly against the single knuckle of his forefinger as he gauged them a second longer in silence before sighing and waving them off. "Go prepare your fraccion, Harribel. Inform Szayel that he will be monitoring the operation," he ordered offhandedly, not even bothering to mask his bored tone.

The woman's eyes widened quickly before she suddenly lowered herself to one knee again in show of her appreciation. "Thank you, Lord Aizen. You have my utmost gratitude," she declared profoundly.

"Do not thank me," Aizen answered, unaffected by her sincerity. "Thank the girl, I am only allowing this to placate her until the war has ended."

"Yes, My Lord." She lowered her head in a single motion before rising to her feet.

"I trust that this incident will not repeat itself again," he said as he stood from his seat, his eyes suddenly shifting to Ulquiorra. "Ever."

"Yes, My Lord," Harribel repeated.

"Go," he uttered dismissively, washing his hands of any further discussion on the matter as he calmly descended the steps. His brown eyes paid no mind to the respectful bow she gave him before turning to leave. "Come, walk with me, Ulquiorra," Aizen invited upon reaching the bottom step, heading for a private exit. "Have you had any success dealing with the issues surrounding our guest?" he inquired as Ulquiorra followed several paces behind. "I hope you have some good news for me."

"I have managed to uncover a detail regarding the Shinigamis' presence in Hueco Mundo. Most pressing, Arturo Plateado," Ulquiorra answered plainly, his voice filling the silence as his eyes strayed to the desert resting just outside the open balcony. Beyond the pillars of the large room, the ever present rise and fall of dunes carved their profiles into the landscape. "However, I have been unable to narrow down any suspects willing to make an attempt on her life."

"Arturo Plateado?" Aizen mused. "I must say, I am surprised to hear he has not left Las Noches. I was under the impression he held much dislike for this place."

"It is possible he is also behind the attack. If he has the desire to see her gone, be it through her removal from Las Noches or her death, it is not beyond his capability. Or rather, it could be you whom he wishes to be rid of, not the girl."

"Yes, I suppose," Aizen remarked tonelessly, as if speaking to no one in particular. "But I doubt even an Arrancar such as him would have so little tact." Arturo did hold a certain hatred for Aizen. It was easy to connect the dots and assume the Arrancar had been attempting to remove the girl from Las Noches under the impression that if she were gone, the Hogyoku would remain in its damaged state. After all, if the jewel were allowed to be healed before the Shinigami forces were prepared, Aizen would easily rise to power - resulting in a future that many individuals, including Arturo, were fighting from coming to fruition. "What of their rescue efforts?"

"There has been no further Shinigami activity within Hueco Mundo. The last expected troupe did not arrive," Ulquiorra informed monotonously as he updated Aizen on the details of his report. "Since their last effort, all attempts have ceased."

"Giving up so easily?" Aizen's eyebrow raised slightly, not surprised in the least to hear they had abandoned their efforts.

"To continue to waste resources on a single individual while so near to war would be beyond foolhardy," Ulquiorra commented flatly and Aizen chuckled.

"I will deal with Arturo, but I am certain he is unrelated to the attempt on her life. Continue with the investigation," he ordered as they approached a relatively normal sized door hidden at the furthest end of the room.

"Yes, My Lord," Ulquiorra replied as he stopped by one of the many large pillars that obscured the secluded passageway from view.

"Take the girl to Szayel's lab when Harribel has finished with the arrangements. Keep a close eye on her, Ulquiorra. I do not want a repeat of this incident," he warned and Ulquiorra remained silent.

When Aizen stepped forward into the open doorway, he paused and glanced back at his silent soldier, who stared at some invisible point on a distant wall. "Ulquiorra," he began with a smile, as if mentioning something that had only just come to mind. "I was giving Harribel a most interesting lecture before you arrived. You see, it seems I had to explain certain rules to her–rules that stress just how greatly I dislike my men taking liberties with my possessions…of course, you would never do such a thing, would you, Ulquiorra?"

Aizen's brow lifted curiously when a pair of green eyes suddenly shifted to his brown ones, regarding him in dark silence.

"No, My Lord."

Aizen's smile widened.

"I thought so," he said and stepped over the threshold. "That will be all." His words were outlined by the closing of the door, eager to get back to his studies as he left Ulquiorra to his duties.

---

Orihime had always found Ulquiorra to be rather uptight about her disobedience in leaving the fourth tower so frequently. Now she realized he'd been more than lenient with her on a number of occasions and had only really taken action in instances where Grimmjow would cross the line and injure her…or when Gin touched or looked at her a little too precariously for his liking. Otherwise, when she had meandered out of her room and ventured past the tower gates, Ulquiorra never really did…anything, now that she thought back on it.

As she suspiciously watched the back of the blind man ahead of her, Orihime now wondered if Ulquiorra had tried so hard to beat the idea of fear into her head in order to keep her distanced from creatures like the one set before her now.

Frowning and feeling a little edgy, Orihime slowed her pace to put even more distance between them. She half expected the man to turn on her at any moment and chop her into a million little pieces, but he never so much as spoke a single word, and it was puzzling her. Greatly.

Pushing some of her fear aside, but making sure to keep a wide berth, Orihime leaned her upper half sideways as she craned her neck to the right, trying to get a better look at him. Her eyebrows quirked as she wondered why he bothered to wear a visor. It wasn't as if he could see. Still, her curiosity pushed her onwards and she continued to lean forward. Perhaps he would have terrible, gnarled teeth that were pointy and sharp or horns growing out from his head.

She found no such thing.

With a huff of confusion, she went to step closer in an attempt to sate her curiosity. Clumsy as she was, she persisted in such an extreme position only to wind up tripping over her own feet, sending her hurtling forward and crashing into his back.

Fear shot through her like a searing hot iron and her dark eyes nervously rose to watch the man as he turned his head to regard her from over his shoulder.

"I…I'm sorry," she stuttered stupidly, unable to breath for her anxiety. "I didn't mean to-"

"Are you okay?" he inquired politely, carefully turning to help her right herself. "You should be more careful. Lord Aizen would be upset if you were to injure yourself."

Orihime sucked in a deep breath and nearly jerked away from the hand that reached out to take her arm, shock being the only thing preventing her from doing so.

She was silent and openly staring at him, her strange conduct seeming to concern him to some degree.

"Is something the matter?"

Trying to shake herself out of her stupor, Orihime swallowed hard and kept her guard up as she forced herself to answer. "No…it's just…" she uttered dumbly before suddenly furrowing her brow in frustration when she realized something wasn't adding up. "You're not what I expected at all," she admitted, wondering if it was indeed Kaname Tosen that was standing before her with his hand resting gently on her arm.

"I am unsure what expectations you may have placed upon me." He released her and smoothly turned to continue down the corridor. "But I apologize if I have disappointed you in some manner," he said, although his partially detached voice and the manner in which he seamlessly moved on without her seemed to indicate otherwise.

Orihime stared after him for a moment, trying to sort out her bafflement before hurrying to catch up.

"I didn't mean to offend you," she voiced at his side as she hurried her steps. "It's just, Grimmjow-kun made it seem like you were such a terrible monster!" Orihime announced with wide, expressive eyes, ignorant of how offensive her words may have sounded.

"Grimmjow is a mindless beast that will someday fall to the hands of justice."

Orihime blinked, cocking her head slightly in effort to digest those words.

"Pardon?" she said, thinking that she had perhaps missed something vital to understanding that sentence. She watched as he released a soundless sigh and proceeded to put his statement into words that she could properly, and more easily, appreciate.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez holds no great liking for me, and I, none for him."

"Oh." Orihime's eyes lit up with understanding as she nodded in sudden understanding.

She had not known much about Kaname Tosen before she came to Hueco Mundo, and even then her knowledge was very limited, but after spending so many hours with Grimmjow, who cursed the very ground that Tosen walked on, spoke in sermons of his hatred and contempt for such a being, and fervently dreamed of spitting on the man's grave, Orihime had come to the conclusion that Kaname Tosen must have been the most awful person in Las Noches next to Aizen himself.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

He was polite and well-mannered and even highly respectful. Needless to say, it had left her stunned. It was a pleasant surprise, to say the least, even if he was quite humorless.

However, as the minutes passed, it was impossible for Orihime not to notice the frequency in which he spoke about justice and all of its moral components and wonders. It was almost to the point of excess. It was also very confounding. He seemed to use its definition so readily in one statement, only to completely change its context in another.

"Tosen-san," Orihime began in a questioning tone. "Justice seems like something very important to you. Yet…" she trailed off, unsure how to voice what was on her mind.

He turned his face to the young woman walking alongside him, his blind eyes focusing on her own from behind his visor with frightening accuracy.

"Justice comes in many shapes and sizes. It cannot be contained or narrowed down into a single classification," he replied. "But where there is bloodshed, justice will inevitably follow."

Orihime was quiet in contemplation. He spoke of bloodshed and such as if it were something he disagreed with, but he willingly followed Aizen, did he not? She was well aware of the proverb, 'justice is blind', and wondered if he possibly envisioned himself as a literal representation of that axiom.

If so, Orihime would have to disagree.

She had not been in his presence long, but it seemed Kaname Tosen was not a hard man to decipher.

It was quite probable that over time Tosen had twisted his own ideals to lessen the gravity of his choices. He had altered the meaning of justice again and again, deviating its definition after each new transgression until it suited his own desires. Except, Tosen had been too courteous and kind to her for Orihime to point such a thing out. She had no desire to point out his flaws or argue about them. Aside from that, her passions lay not in the roots of justice, but in the sentiments of the heart.

Instead, with a small smile, Orihime simply turned to him and sighed good-naturedly.

"I'm afraid your definition of justice is very different from mine," she said with a delicate shrug. "True justice should be unchanging, don't you think?"

Her escort didn't respond.

"Tosen-san?"

"…the conviction of the truly pure hearted," he uttered quietly and Orihime, not for the first time, blinked in confusion.

Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps he wasn't as easy to figure out as she first thought.

She remained awkwardly reticent for the last few legs of their long journey to her room and when he dropped her off Orihime was left to her solitude once more, wondering why a man such as he, who seemed quite harmless, would follow the likes of Aizen Sosuke, who was clearly in no manner of the word, harmless. He was certainly odd, but Orihime had found him to be relatively benign in comparison to the other outlandish characters she had met in the palace and, by far, much less threatening than Grimmjow's hate-filled rants had originally led her to believe.

Her room was too quiet and Orihime was restless. Attempted efforts to distract her mind grew dull over time and after twenty attempts to solve the puzzling riddle as to why Kaname Tosen, a blind man, needed to wear a visor went unanswered, she pushed her thoughts on towards other, more stimulating subjects.

Nevertheless, she was worried and unable to maintain a specific thought for long without wondering what was taking Harribel and Ulquiorra so long. Ulquiorra would undoubtedly inform her on the situation. Chances were he wouldn't let her forget it for the next week, either. She wasn't looking forward to the unavoidable lecture he'd undoubtedly give her for agreeing to such a thing in the first place. She'd only wanted to help.

Her imagination began to wander as the minutes went by and when altogether harebrained images of Ulquiorra and Harribel being tortured mercilessly at the hand of an evilly cackling Aizen filled her brain, the girl sighed and stood from the couch. Pacing her way across the rug, her hand reached out to the trolley sitting by the door to run her forefinger over the moist rim of the glass resting on its tray. Her eyes were distant and unfocused as she watched the ice shift and clink as it slowly melted.

Even though they were keeping her against her will, Orihime held no desire to cause an issue for the Espada. She may not have known Harribel very well, and her strained relationship with Ulquiorra could have been leaps and bounds better, but she didn't wish harm upon them.

Perhaps she really didn't think things through well enough. Would it have been better for her to have not jumped straight into an agreement with Harribel two seconds after the woman had requested her help? Could she have come up with a better compromise that wouldn't have resulted in Aizen becoming so uptight about the matter? Was she really so naïve as to just blindly agree to such things in the first place? She nearly laughed, looking back at the last agreement she'd made with a strange Arrancar. It was clear her choices were not always so wise. It had resulted in her capture, after all.

With her making such a hasty decision, what if he deemed Ulquiorra incompetent and reassigned her to someone else?

She had grown to feel relatively safe with Ulquiorra, if not for the fact that she was open to trusting him, but because she knew he would protect her; a specific brand of protection that she had doubted in the beginning, but now trusted implicitly.

When the door to her room opened, Orihime sent the familiar figure a welcoming and somewhat relieved smile.

"Well? What did he say?" she asked as she turned to him inquisitively. A tiny droplet of water fell from her fingertip as she slid the appendage away from the moist rim of the cup she had been scrutinizing in her boredom. In the quiet room, the hushed clink of slowly dissolving ice clattered against the half-empty glass again.

"You will perform the operation under Szayelaporro's supervision in the eighth laboratory," he informed flatly and her smile suddenly broadened at the news, even as he turned back to the door. "Do not leave the room again," he added, the order given so frequently now that it was said with an almost amusing offhanded lack of care.

"Wait!" Orihime called as she very nearly ran to block him. "I'm ready to go now," she reported happily and leaned back into the frame of the entrance. Crossing her arms behind her back, she rocked eagerly on her heels. "There's no sense in waiting."

"They will not be prepared for several more hours." The aloof expression in his eyes did not waver as they settled on her face, examining the girl and her illogical eagerness to help the ones holding her captive. She only smiled wider at him, his fixed air of detachment doing nothing to curb her enthusiasm.

"Then take me for a walk," she suggested soundly. Her dark eyes watched him closely, as if daring him to turn her down. "I would very much like to see the sun." She managed an inviting smile. A lock of hair slipped over her brow with the soft tilt of her head and when he glanced away, she knew she had won him over to her request.

When he led her off into the hall, Orihime gazed blankly at the white walls they passed along the way, wondering about the task that lay ahead of her.

---

Being back in the eighth tower was not a particularly joyous occasion, but Orihime was more than willing to return and undergo such an insignificant discomfort if it meant helping someone in need.

Upon entering the tower and approaching the laboratory, the doors were found to be open and waiting for their arrival. Her eyes scanned the large space carefully, taking note of the lack of occupants filling the room. Most markedly, the bespectacled man who'd poked and prodded her with too many needles to count during her last visit.

During her inspection of the room, her gaze found a single figure laid out upon a metal examination table. Without a glance to her escort, Orihime strode forward and crossed the wide expanse of flooring that separated her from the figure.

Standing by the prone female, Orihime's eyes carefully examined her deep, slow breathing. Along with the weak aura her reiatsu had been conveying, her tanned skin seemed to have become flushed and beaded with sweat. The woman was clearly ill.

Orihime felt a wave of doubt rush through her.

She'd never put any effort into negating the effects of illnesses. Could she even do such a thing? All of her efforts had always been directed towards open wounds and battlefield injuries. What if she could not help the woman? What if she died? Harribel's efforts would have been for naught and Orihime would feel terribly responsible for the failure.

"What are you doing here?" an impolite voice called bitterly from behind her.

Orihime's head whipped around to examine the source, only to come face to face with two women scrutinizing her with cold, unwelcoming eyes. Glaring at her with a suspicious frown, one of the women took a menacing step forward.

"I asked you a question!" she nearly hissed.

With dark hair that seemed to shimmer in blue waves against the light and a maroon brand encircling one of her mismatched eyes, Orihime struggled to find an answer beneath her irate glare.

"Leave her be, Apacci," the other woman scolded harshly from behind her sleeve. "She is clearly the human girl brought here by Lord Aizen."

"I don't care who she is," Apacci retorted. "I wanna know what she was planning on doing to Mila-Rose," she said defensively and deliberately moved to position herself between Orihime and the unconscious woman.

"I was just trying to help," Orihime replied reasonably.

When it appeared Apacci was going to snap back with another crude reply, the other woman stepped forward with a seething look. "I suggest you watch your tongue, Apacci," she insisted quietly. "In case you have forgotten, this girl is here at the behest of our Mistress. You should treat her with respect." With that said, she turned her icy lavender eyes to Orihime in a moment of silent scrutiny, blinking a few times with long lashes that held all the grace and beauty of butterfly wings.

"You mean she's the one who's supposed to heal-"

"Of course she is," the woman countered. "Who else did you expect?" she said impatiently, clearly growing frustrated with her companion's incompetence.

As the tension around them simmered down, Apacci's face softened into a begrudging acceptance of her presence before turning away to stroll out of the room. Orihime stared after the woman for a short moment longer until the mild voice of the female Arrancar next to her broke the silence.

"Please, forgive her rudeness," she said with measured politeness. "Apacci is merely stressed over the illness of our companion. With no one to bicker with, she has deemed taking her frustration out on others as an adequate replacement."

"So…she's just upset that her friend is sick," Orihime stated in a manner of mostly rhetorical assertion as her eyes pointed to the dark skinned woman laid out before them. Her face was filled with understanding and pity as she rested a hand on the table next to the Arrancar's arm.

Her companions must have been very lonely without her…

"I am Cyan Sung-Sun," the lavender eyed woman expressed with a small, but cultured, bow. "The woman with whom you just met was Emilou Apacci," she clarified. "And this is Franceska Mila-Rose. She is the one you've been brought here for."

With a look of determination set on her soft features, Orihime turned to meet her eyes before promising, "I'll do everything in my power to help her."

Sung-Sun paused, briefly taken aback as she stared at the young girl and her seemingly unshakable resolve to help her enemy. She had been under the impression the human would have to be brought by force and tricked into healing their comrade. Sung-Sun had expected many things, but not such utter willingness to facilitate her captors.

"Orihime Inoue," the stern voice of Harribel sounded from behind them, breaking the fleeting silence. With both Apacci and Szayel flanking her confident stride, the blonde approached the pair, stopping to cast a lasting glance at her fading fraccion. "I am glad to see you have decided to uphold our deal," she spoke steadily before turning her piercing turquoise eyes to the girl in question.

"I-it's nothing." Orihime swallowed nervously under her firm stare. "I just want to help, that's all."

"Madam," Szayel's voice called. "It is good to see you in my laboratory again," he said with wicked merriment.

Orihime instantly averted her gaze from him in an attempt to push the process along at a faster rate than it was currently going.

"Perhaps we should get started as soon as possible?" she suggested and took a tense step closer to her patient. With stiff shoulders, she tried to keep her back to the rosette haired Espada.

"Of course, of course," Szayel replied in approval as he motioned for his assistants to move forward. "But first, we must prepare the subjects before any work can go underway," he explained and began to take stock of the numerous needles and other various objects that Orihime was unfamiliar with, all of which were connected to several large monitors. Orihime's eyes went large with trepidation when he grabbed a handful of those needles and stepped towards her and the unconscious woman on the table.

"No." Harribel instantly stepped between them, her arm outstretched to her side to shield the women in a non-provoking, yet nonnegotiable manner. There was no debating the matter. "The use of such methods is unnecessary, I will not allow you to distract the girl as she works, nor will I allow further risk to my fraccion's health."

"Are you trying to say something about my 'methods', Harribel?" Szayel inquired with a dark smirk. "You couldn't possibly be thinking I would try something as underhanded as injecting unspeakable serums into these lovely young women behind your back, could you?"

The blonde was silent in the large expanse of the laboratory as the buzz of electrical equipment and the bubbling of specimens held in suspended animation within test tubes filled the quiet between them. Her eyes merely narrowed in a show of her unwavering resolution.

Szayel's smirk slowly faded from his lips as he began to realize the woman would not budge on her decision.

"It is Lord Aizen's orders," he warned evenly. "Are you willing to disobey him again, Harribel?" he asked with a tinge of mockery, not caring at all to hear her answer.

"You will find another way to observe. If I am to face reprimand for it, then I will do so when the time comes."

Slamming the needles back onto the carts that his assistants had brought forward, Szayel waved them off before turning from the group of his would-be subjects. Orihime let out a sigh of relief and watched as he strode from the lab, only stopping by the doorway to mutter something heated to Ulquiorra, who stood unspeaking against the wall to survey the operation.

"Orihime Inoue," Harribel called. "You are free to start when you are ready."

When her dark eyes lowered to the ill female lying in front of her, Orihime closed her eyes and brought her hands to her chest in a single moment of prayer, hoping that she would be capable of helping. Then, taking a long deep breath, she extended her arms and began.

As her shield easily spread out over the table, a light flickered to life above them on the adjoining wall. Like a curtain rising with the pull of a rope, a panel slid up to reveal the glass window of an observation room from where the bespectacled scientist could resume watching them at a respectable distance.

Putting effort back into her work, Orihime ignored the prying amber eyes and his assistants glowering down at her like predators. Reinforcing her shield and whispering to her Soten Kisshun in hushed slurs, she adjusted her eyes to the light of her shield as it grew brighter and engulfed the woman gently.

The lab grew painfully silent as she worked, each pair of eyes gazing at her with captivated interest, hypnotized by the soothing warmth she radiated.

A flutter of excitement ran through her blood when she felt some progress being made, but that progress was momentarily overshadowed with a frown upon the ominous realization that there was a foreign reiatsu in Mila-Rose's body…a reiatsu that was dangerously familiar.

Carefully lifting her head with concerned eyes, Orihime met the gaze of the female Espada watching her work.

"Have you been to Soul Society recently, Harribel-san?" Orihime asked gravely.

Harribel's brow narrowed slightly in doubt, not willing to answer such a question without proper reasoning.

"There's a foreign reiatsu blocking the flow of her spiritual pressure, it's slowly poisoning her with toxins. I've felt this reiatsu before…I've felt it in Soul Society. That is why I am asking," she explained.

Sung-Sun and Apacci shared a glance before their Mistress spoke up, answering without revealing things that the human girl had no business knowing. "Many months ago, before you arrived in Hueco Mundo, we were sent on a reconnaissance mission to the Seireitei. During that time, we encountered several individuals from the Twelfth Division, one of whom being a woman we were able to identify as the division's Lieutenant," Harribel disclosed calmly, gauging the reaction of the young girl under her stare. "What is the significance behind this?"

"Were any of you injured during that encounter?" Orihime continued to ask.

"Only Mila-Rose," she responded. "It was a superficial scratch, she was not even taken to infirmary."

Orihime sighed.

"The division you encountered is under the command of Captain Mayuri Kurotsuchi," Orihime expounded. "When myself and the others invaded Soul Society, I along with Ishida-kun, had the misfortune to stumble upon this particular Captain. He is known for being principally ruthless and cruel, as he sees those around him as nothing more than lab experiments at his disposal." Biting her lip, she took a step closer to the ill woman currently under her care, praying that she could reverse the damage that had already been done. "He's perfectly capable of kidnapping his enemies and torturing them in his lab. But, if such an outcome is not accessible, or in the case of his desired subject possibly escaping his grasp, he'll inject them with noxious serums and fill their bodies with toxins inhaled after certain gasses are released into the atmosphere in order to study them at a distance - I'm afraid she has met the same fate," Orihime delivered the news softly. She was afraid it had already been too many months and the toxins had slowly degenerated the entire inner workings of several key systems of the woman's body over too vast an amount of time.

"Will she survive?" Harribel simply asked, her voice not once betraying her distress. However, the same could not be said of her other two companions.

Orihime swallowed again, unsure how to answer.

"I…believe she will. I won't let her die," she expressed with a touch of nervousness. "You should consider yourselves lucky you only met his Vice Captain. Otherwise, you may not have gotten out of Soul Society at all," she trailed off gravely.

"Well, well, well," a snide voice called obnoxiously from the far end of the room. Orihime's eyes widened in shock at the sight of the unpleasant Espada that leaned against the doorframe and smiled at them with false sincerity. Casting a tall and lanky shadow from his position in the back entrance of the lab, Nnoitra sniggered at the instant reaction he was capable of inciting from each of the women. "If it ain't the Queen Bitch, herself." He slinked forward, his eyes set solely on the dark skinned blonde that had inconspicuously positioned herself between him and the others.

"What are you doing here, Nnoitra?" she queried casually, arms crossed and unaffected by his presence.

"Oh, you know me," he drawled innocently as he strolled forward, not bothering with pretenses. "When I heard Aizen's favorite whore actually went so far as to disobey him…I just had to see it for myself," he chuckled quietly. "I guess you could say, I wanted to hear it straight from the whore's mouth." His play on words did not go unnoticed.

"This does not concern you," she informed, refraining from any hostilities that may set him off at such an inopportune time. "It would be best for you to leave at once."

"Come on, tell me what order you broke that pissed him off so badly?" Nnoitra goaded persistently, clearly unwilling to leave without gathering the dirt he had come there to collect. "It must be something insanely-" He abruptly cut himself off when he set his sights upon Orihime, his face going blank for a short period before a heinous smirk spread across his lips like a plague. "Well, fuck me…" he muttered to himself, only to burst out into hysterical laughter a second later as Harribel watched behind narrowed eyes.

"You…you actually," he said, struggling to catch his breath. "Oh, fuck - you actually messed with pet-sama!" he cackled as he made his way around the blonde and approached Orihime without thought. "This is rich!" he guffawed, even as Harribel's sharp turquoise eyes watched his every move.

"Y-yes, Nnoitra-san?" Orihime inquired nervously as he stood before her, examining her as if she were an interesting object on display.

The tall Espada paid no mind to her anxious looks and stuttering words as he glanced at Harribel over his shoulder. "I can't believe you really did it, you must've been something fucking desperate to pull this shit off," he scoffed again, half in disbelief, half in humor. "I'm surprised Ulquiorra didn't slaughter your ass for a stunt this big." Nnoitra was very nearly ready to praise the woman for the balls it took to launch such a spectacle. "Fuck…and you flaunted her right in front of Lord Aizen, too!" he laughed as he gripped a strand of Orihime's hair in his fingers, twirling it like a ribbon.

"Nnoitra…" Harribel exhaled smoothly, attempting to distract him.

"Ah, pet-sama…" Nnoitra sighed with exaggerated despondency. His lean hand gripped her jaw. His long fingers easily extended past that captured jaw to gently squeeze the flesh of her round cheeks. "What I wouldn't do to have you all to myself," he teased with a snigger, shaking her face playfully as he spoke. "I bet we'd have a swell time!"

Adding a bit more pressure, he chortled humorously when the soft flesh of her face crammed together in a manner that pushed her lips out into a fat pout. "Check this shit out, Harribel," Nnoitra called eagerly as he turned the girl's trapped face to the female Espada and squished Orihime's cheeks together again until her lips pinched out dramatically. "Bitch's skin's as pliable as putty!" he declared, as if showing off a toy. Orihime dared not resist, even if she wanted to.

"I suggest you release her, Nnoitra," Harribel stated with a cold, collected stare. Her fraccion stood behind her, eyeing the male harshly like guard dogs waiting for a command to attack. "Lord Aizen would be displeased if harm came to her," she warned.

"That's rich coming from you!" he responded with a loud bark of laughter. "I'm not the one who attempted to steal her right out from under his nose."

"She is here of her own free will," Harribel explained. "Lord Aizen has released her into my custody for the time being."

"Bullshit," he countered dryly as he dropped his hold on her. "That heartless bastard's still watching her like a fucking hawk." Gesturing with a nod towards the door, Harribel followed his movement with her eyes as they landed on the statue-like figure watching them from afar. "She's in nobody's custody but his."

"All the more reason for you to keep your hands to yourself." Unwinding her arms from their crossed position under her breasts, Nnoitra laughed at the clear, yet subtle, posturing she was displaying.

"What, you think Ulquiorra gives a shit what happens to her?" With a swift and precise movement, Nnoitra grabbed Orihime by the arm to press her back against his chest. Lifting her closer by her other forearm, he bent to take a long, leisurely sniff along her neck, causing a dreadful shiver to run down her spine.

"See?" he purred tauntingly. Raising his eye expectantly to the cold figure watching them from across the room, a deliberate smirk crossed his features when Ulquiorra, in a rather offhanded and cavalier manner, evaluated the measure of his movements, the intent behind those movements and took fleeting stock on the position of Nnoitra's hands. Deeming the Fifth Espada's actions to be nothing more than a spectacle(a deliberate and vulgar effort to get a rise out of them), Ulquiorra unhurriedly pushed himself from the wall and exited the room - wholly unconcerned about their conversation. "Bastard couldn't care less," Nnoitra sneered.

"That does not mean I do not." She reacted with a rather intimidating narrowing of her eyes.

"U-um…excuse me?" Orihime murmured quietly, catching the attention of the man still clutching her to his chest.

"Yes, pet-sama?" he replied with a particularly sarcastic smirk crossing his unique features, his eye looking down directly into hers.

"Would you mind letting go?" she asked politely, far more politely than most people would've in such a situation. "I'm very sorry to interrupt you, but-"

Nnoitra abruptly released the girl, not even giving her the chance to finish her sentence when, upon looking so deeply into her eyes at such close proximity, felt a disgusting twisting in his guts. Soft brown eyes, so soft they distorted and morphed into a pale hazel mockery–a color he remembered more than he ever wanted–flashed in his mind, forcing peppermint teal hair to flicker wildly about the periphery of his memory.

"Whatever," he spoke the word as if it were a curse before turning from her. "Forget this," he growled under his breath, attempting to hide his annoyance.

"Nnoitra-san?" The tentative voice stopped him, compelling him to glance back irritably.

"What?" he spat nastily.

"You're more than welcome to stay…if you would like," she offered with a nervous blush.

The tall Espada merely stood motionless, staring at her oddly until she began to squirm uncomfortably under his guarded glare. Then, with a spiteful and taunting smirk growing on his mouth, slid his gaze over to Harribel in a victorious and jeering stare.

"Why, of course I would love to stay, pet-sama," he answered with exaggerated civility.

Orihime blinked with wide eyes, surprised that he had accepted her offer. She gave a hesitant nod as he made his way over to the nearest counter and, with all the polished etiquette of a wild boar, shoved several feet of lab equipment off the shelf to create a space to sit. A livid, muffled shout was heard from above as Szayel pounded violently on the glass overhang, the furious clatter failing to affect Nnoitra in the least.

"Please, do continue." Nnoitra gestured with his hand after he'd made himself comfortable, bringing up a leg to rest his boot against the ledge of the counter he sat upon. "You won't even know I'm here." He smiled loutishly and leaned forward to rest his arm atop his knee.

Peeling her eyes from the uncouth male, Orihime held in a sigh before putting more effort into her shield, glad that the distractions had ended for now.

As she worked, she sensed when Harribel moved to stand next to her, unintentionally flustering the girl. Stealing a few circumspect glances from under her lashes, Orihime finally gave in to the urge to lift her head for a better look.

Such striking features were certainly what made it hard for Orihime to tear her eyes away from the unconventional beauty. Even more than that, she could sense the strength of the woman radiating off her like an ocean of fortitude and resilience. She could see it in her jewel-like eyes, hard as stone and just as unwavering. Her sun kissed skin glowed, even in the dull light of Las Noches' false sun. Under that skin, Orihime could feel the beating of a dogged and resolute heart.

A heart that truly had the strength to protect those she loved.

Orihime envied that power.

Unable to catch herself, Orihime stared openly at the thick, delicate blonde lashes that lowered and rose with all the ease and grace of a flower petal bending in the breeze. A faint blush fanned across her cheeks when those diamond-hard eyes turned on her.

Quickly, Orihime averted her gaze and tried to resist the urge to tuck her chin to her chest in embarrassment. Her blush only thrived and flourished under the female Espada's quiet inspection, missing the gentle crinkle that touched the corner of Harribel's eyes.

"Have you given thought to what you will ask of me?" Harribel inquired plainly as she shifted her own stare back to her fraccion. "I cannot give you your freedom. That is beyond my power."

Orihime merely smiled mildly, unperturbed. She had already known that.

"Perhaps we should wait until you are certain I'm capable of healing her," Orihime suggested, clasping her hands over her chest. "I will not accept your favor if I cannot hold up my end of the bargain." Lowering her head, she allowed her eyes to close, hoping it would not come to such a conclusion.

"She will make it," Harribel stated, as if voicing a simple fact.

"Do you think?"

"I already know," she replied and Orihime did not want to believe she had only imagined the smirk in that voice. "I can feel it…her spiritual pressure has already doubled from mere moments ago."

Orihime allowed a grin to lift the corner of her eyes as she bit her lip.

Raising her chin and taking a deep, reassuring breath, she caught sight of activity inside the room built into the wall across from them. She watched as several figures worked within the space. Rosette hair stood out like a beacon of color and next to it stood the partial silhouette of her warden. Szayel was speaking to him, conversing on subjects that she was certain she would never know about. Her eyes softened as she watched his hand casually retreat from his pocket to examine a thin dossier.

"…what happens to a Hollow's heart?" Orihime asked suddenly, deciding that would be the request she would have Harribel fulfill. It was something she had pondered about recently. After all, outside of the most basic knowledge, she knew very little when it came to the beings.

At her unexpected and unusual query, the very air around them seemed to grow stale with awkward silence.

"Don't you know?" a sober voice stated and Orihime turned curious eyes to the male that sat behind them. A gray eye peered out at her from behind his knee, narrowing amusedly at the honest innocence behind her question.

"Nnoitra," Harribel bit out warningly, knowing he was going to disfigure the answer and upset the girl in a way that was entirely unnecessary.

"Know what?" Orihime's head tilted with inquisitive naivety.

A dark, slow chuckle filled the air in a hushed caress as his coarse grin spread in open mockery of her ignorance.

"Hollows never had one to begin with."

Orihime looked away, frustrated by his constant distasteful jokes.

"I don't find that funny," she said seriously, her body tense. "It's not funny at all." Everything had a heart. It was impossible to function without one.

"You think I'm fuckin' with you?" he scoffed. "Ask the king of all heartless bastards yourself, then. Hell, ask that bitch, for all I care," he said, insinuating Harribel, as he leaned further back into the seat he'd made for himself on the counter.

When her questioning eyes turned to the blonde, Harribel was quiet several beats longer than she should have been. As the seconds flittered by, the look upon Orihime's face grew more and more uneasy.

The girl had clearly developed a bizarre attachment to the cold Espada - Harribel did not miss the way she had looked upon him in the throne room earlier. In all likelihood, curiosity about Ulquiorra was the reason she had asked such a thing in the first place. For Harribel, communicating her answer in detail would not be hard. However, Nnoitra had been less than eloquent in his delivery of the information.

The damage had already been done.

"It is the natural way of the Hollow to have pieces of ourselves missing," Harribel clarified evenly. "To be otherwise would be the very definition of what we are not. Just as Nnoitra has no eye, and Grimmjow has no stomach…Ulquiorra is without heart. And I…am without a womb."

Seeing the quiet distress on Orihime's lowered face, Nnoitra chortled amusedly.

"What else did you expect, pet-sama?" he prodded. "We're beasts…monsters," he continued, his voice growing slightly darker and agitated. "Even your warden. You didn't actually think that freak could ever care for you, did you? Trust me when I say, that bastard can hardly be bothered to draw his own sword in a fight, what makes you think he'd go out of his way to worry about you? Don't you know you're surrounded by fiends, pet-sama, we're all nothing but abominations-"

"I never said that!" Orihime hissed quietly, face downcast with her lips quivering in effort to keep them pursed tightly together. "I never said any of you were an abomination! And I…I know Ulquiorra doesn't care for me-"

"Bullshit!" Nnoitra let out a single bark of laughter. "You aren't that hard to figure out," he derided easily and watched as she tried to turn away from him further. Loving her invested reactions, he leaned forward slightly with a large and provoking grin. "Why do you think Aizen stuck you with Ulquiorra in the first place, huh? Have you ever really, truly, given it any thought?" He paused for a moment, giving her that short instance to think about the meaning behind his words. "Have you figured it out yet…pet-sama?" he practically purred, ignoring the quiet sniffle she gave. "Aizen left you with him because when that unfortunate time comes that you've outlived your usefulness, Ulquiorra will be the last person to give a shit about what happens to you…and the first one to run his hand straight through that lovely-"

"That is quite enough, Nnoitra," Harribel interjected firmly. She'd been willing to let him drone on at first, thinking it was possible Nnoitra's harsh words were something the girl actually needed to hear to put a stop to whatever fanciful thoughts were running through her mind about her warden. But he'd gone too far.

For once, the tall male seemed uninterested in quarreling about the issue. Pushing himself from the counter, Nnoitra turned from the small group with a lazy scoff. "Whatever," he began irritably. "I got better shit to do than sit around here and listen to that bitch cry all day, anyways."

By the time he'd exited the large lab, a strangled silence fell over them as she worked. Even as progress continued to be made, the atmosphere remained stifled and smothered in the wake of Nnoitra's departure.

Lifting her head slowly, Orihime gazed at Mila-Rose and fell into a blind stare. Internally, she rebuked the Espada's accusation. She didn't believe him. Not one bit. She'd seen for herself the hearts of Hollows; Wonderweiss's affectionate spirit, Grimmjow's fiery passion and now Harribel's steadfast loyalty.

Feeling the eyes of those in the room upon her, all the girl could muster was a weak, "I don't believe him," before letting the hush of the room settle in. She wanted to let them know. "Just because part of your soul is gone, I don't believe that makes you a monster."

When Harribel's fraccion was successfully healed, Orihime received the woman's gratitude with fragile acceptance before finding her way back to her warden who awaited her just outside the large doors of the tower. With a blank stare and a turbulent heart, for once Orihime remained mute during their journey back to her room.

---

Orihime hummed to herself as she held a book before her eyes. The shiny cover reflected her smiling face as she angled her head to and fro, fretfully fussing with her hair as she did so. The glossy surface distorted and warped her image like the rippling effects of trembling water and she blinked in contemplation as she considered the length of her bangs, now reaching just below her lashes to delicately sweep her cheekbones in a feathery caress.

They were getting rather long these days. Perhaps she should trim them? Then again, she quite liked the way they framed her features. It made her look slightly older.

A flash of the morning light caught on the polished surface of the book as she turned the heavy novel once more, stopping short when she noticed the reflection of her warden sitting on the couch a short distance behind her within the sprawling and expansive library.

Her dark eyes slid from the quiet picture he created against the cover to peek over her shoulder, watching him curiously from the corner of her eye.

The bright morning light filtered in from the library's tall open windows, dousing the area around them. It was a section of the library she had yet to properly explore, though she fully intended to. The golden rays settled peacefully over the room, touching every surface within its reach as she observed the way he sat; relaxed, with a single hand pocketed as he read from the book held within his long, pale fingers.

Orihime bit her lip and rolled her eyes to the ceiling, pondering.

How old was Ulquiorra, anyways?

She stole another quick glance at her warden.

Ulquiorra looked as if he were in his early to mid-twenties, deceptive considering how old he likely was.

And she…

Her eyes caught sight of her youthful face and delicate, round features in the warped reflection of that shiny book cover.

It wasn't like her bangs needed trimming that badly, anyways…

Orihime flipped open her book, ridding herself of her reflection and turning to the last page from whence she had left off. However, it seemed she was having little success in remembering just where that spot had been.

"You know what I miss the most?" she sighed blissfully sometime later, deciding to break the comfortable silence. "About the living world, I mean," she clarified, as if he actually cared.

He was unresponsive for many seconds and, with a playful scrunch in her brow, Orihime realized he was going to ignore her. Alas, she should have known better. Ulquiorra rarely partook in small talk even on her most determined days that she attempted to coax him into conversation. He only really went into deeper dialogue when it seemed Ichigo Kurosaki was in some way connected to her silly rants. When she opened her mouth to further prompt him, he seemed to have predicted the barrage of unnecessary questions that were about to be fired in his direction and spared her the trouble of wasting her breath.

"Last week it was summer beaches and chocolate ice cream. Your companions the week before that," he answered belatedly, not lifting his eyes from the book in his hand. "I assume it will be something equally absurd today…I fail to see the importance of announcing your fickle desires, woman. It will not bring them any closer to you," he said without any amount of deep thought.

"It isn't absurd!" she informed enthusiastically. "Of course I miss all of those things, but I think I miss the rain most of all," she decided after a short moment of light-hearted deliberation. "You see, I love how it brings life to the world, even though most people find it gloomy and troublesome." Lifting the heavy skirts of her gown, Orihime smiled sweetly as she lowered herself onto the smooth surface of the short decorative table set before him. Crossing her ankles under the many layers of fabric surrounding her legs, she grasped the edge of the table and leaned forward, endeavoring to steal his attention from the book at hand. "What do you think of the rain?" she inquired with a twinkle in her eye, ever the cheerful darling even in the face of his somber personality.

"Hueco Mundo has never known rain. Thus, I have no opinion on it," Ulquiorra said plainly, his thumb moving to flip a page of his book. Orihime tilted her head in an attempt to see the title written across the cover, only to be met with disappointment at seeing none there.

"Well, I think the rain is wonderful," she announced dreamily as she straightened her posture, utterly uncaring of whether or not he was bothering to listen. She just wanted to talk. "I used to write poems about it, about how it could bind the earth and the sky together…about how it could connect two hearts." Watching him from under her lashes, she didn't miss the brief narrowing of his eyes.

Lowering her gaze and glancing away, Orihime opened her novel of love stories and poetry from where her thumb had remained tucked securely between the pages. "It is nice there are so many books here, don't you think?" she added with a small grin. "Although, I never quite pictured someone like Aizen Sosuke having so many books on poetry and the likes." Her airy chuckle was soft and curious, filling the library with its elusive song.

"Lord Aizen is an admirer of literature. It is unsurprising that he would acquire such books from both the living world and Soul Society."

"Hm…" she hummed quietly in thought, slowly running her tongue along her bottom lip distractedly. "Yes, I suppose you're right." With a brief nod of agreement, her attention quickly redirected itself back to the man sitting across from her. "And what of you? Do you like poetry?" she asked, holding up the novel in her hands for him to inspect as her fingers skimmed over the inscribed font playfully.

His eyes lifted to her for the first time, only to follow the way those graceful fingers swept over all the little pages of arcane verse and ill-fated love stories displayed before him.

Upon wholly gaining his attention, Orihime fought the blush rising to her cheeks as she stared into those deep green eyes. In the overwhelming brightness of Las Noches' morning sun, the slit of his pupils had narrowed tightly against the strength of illumination filling the room and fanning across her hair. The very sight of her own reflection outlined so perfectly in those eyes nearly stopped her heart in its tracks.

Did he realize how deadly his eyes truly were? How beautiful?

"Such literature is capricious and unremarkable. It serves no purpose."

Slowly, almost mischievously, a smile spread across her lips. She had expected no less of an answer.

"But you have read it, no?" Orihime countered impishly and felt a touch of victory - even over something so small - when he didn't deny it. The utterly unimpressed look on his face forced the girl to bite her lip as a single peal of laughter rang out into the room. "I quite enjoy the romance of it." Orihime lifted her book as she tapped the smooth cover softly against the tip of her nose, her eyes peering up at him coyly from over the brim of the small novel. The spritely creases at the corners of her lashes, as well as the faint pink tinting the top of her cheeks, spoke to the smile hiding behind the many pages of her book.

Lowering it again, she flipped through the pages and landed on a verse she remembered trying to read many weeks ago. Her fingers followed the lines carefully as she read aloud,

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,

No longer blown hither and thither;

The last lone aster is gone;

The flowers of the witch hazel wither;

The heart is still aching to seek,

But the feet question 'Whither?'

Ah, when to the heart of man

Was it ever less than a treason

To go with the drift of things,

To yield with a grace to reason,

And bow and accept the end

Of a love or a season?

Orihime's soft gaze stared adoringly at the words, nearly sighing at the wistful tone of the poem.

"Tell me, woman," he began quietly and Orihime blinked out of her daze as she straightened her posture to attention. "Does your entire existence depend so completely upon these ridiculous notions of hearts that it has become the only driving force in your life?"

"I…" she hesitated upon recognizing that hint of ridicule in his eye. Lately, she had been trying to avoid too much talk of hearts and the like, but he was sharper than that. He'd known what she was getting at the moment she had opened her mouth and started reciting that poem. He'd easily sensed the direction she was edging the conversation towards and had beat her to the punch. Certainly, he was trying to shut her up and she knew if she chose her words poorly, he'd succeed in his endeavor to wound her into silence like all the other times before. "I will admit it holds significance to me," she voiced calmly, trying to approach the subject circumspectly. "Even when I am alone, it comforts me…it keeps me strong and reminds me of my fondest memories and my friends. My heart is my life, it guides me in the darkest of places and in the most frightening of times." With a distant softening of her eyes, her fingers faintly trailed over that tenderly beating muscle in her chest.

"You speak as if you believe it to be a divine and sentient entity, as if it were alive." Like the deepest void of blackness between the stars, his voice was resonant in its hushed pitch. A cold breeze, a faint caress; it drifted aimless and empty. He was those empty spaces, taking root there and pushing rings of life and happiness into the furthest reaches of the universe - far from the embrace of the sun. "Does it upset you to know that this thing you have dreamt of, a thing that you have spent nearly every waking moment of your life piecing together into the definition you now know, is nothing more than a farce?" Ulquiorra intoned with smooth calmness. "It is as worthless as the dirt beneath your feet."

Orihime froze as the pain in her chest threatened to spill forth from her eyes.

"You have willingly allowed it to consume your spirit until there is nothing left but remnants of a strength snuffed out by the inadequacy of your emotions. Your heart, your friends, your humanity - it has accomplished nothing more than to deteriorate your potential into that liken to an incompetent child dependent on-"

His thin, inky black pupils followed her as she quickly stood. Her book of poetry clattered to the floor, laying forgotten by her feet.

Orihime swallowed hard, trying to repress the urge to reach forward and slap him again. It was so difficult to remain impervious to his cold stare and the tone of his voice that so softly and effortlessly cleaved straight through her. He remained unmoved in his seat, gazing up at her with intense eyes that spoke just as clear as if the words had rolled from his own tongue.

Then her gaze slowly lowered to his chest…and all her anger miraculously dissolved into the warmth of the morning rays like drifting sand swimming over the desert dunes.

Ulquiorra is without heart.

Her dark eyes softened and her resentment ebbed into a waning indignation until it finally faded completely. That wrenching pull of heartache filled her chest again, much like the first moment she had truly looked into his eyes during her first night in Hueco Mundo. Not since the day her dearest brother had passed away did Orihime believe she would meet a man who could cause as much pain in her heart as Ulquiorra did. Simply looking into his eyes and seeing nothing but her own reflection caused more sadness than any of his harsh words could ever muster.

She really didn't understand it.

What did he see when he looked at her? Staring into those poisonous green depths, only to see her own reflection peering back at her, never to penetrate that glossy stare…it bothered her. Why could she not infiltrate those cold, glassy eyes? She always seemed to be in his eyes whenever she looked at him, but she never really saw deeper. She was never able to reach him.

Being with Ulquiorra was rather akin to walking in a glass bottom boat, stranded out in the middle of a vast, lonely ocean. It was at once thrilling and terrifying as she took tentative, cautious steps. One wrong gaffe, too much weight here or not enough there and the glass would splinter and crack…and the boat would shatter. Without an ounce of remorse, he would leave her to sink into the nothingness of that ocean.

"The heart is not as weak as you think it is…" she uttered, refusing to meet his words with hostility. "And neither am I," she said with a small smile. She was resolved in knowing that although he believed her abilities and willpower to be fairly acceptable, his personal views on her emotional formidability left much to be desired.

With a muted slap that made her jump, his book snapped shut. When he rose from the couch, his movements fluid and unstrenuous, a cold panic shot through her chest like a knife. Orihime felt the backs of her knees bump the table as she backed away. Her eyes lowered to the side, every cell in her body telling her to be on guard, that he would only mock her beliefs. It was instinctual, warning her not to allow him too close again before he proved just how capable he was of snapping that trust between them once more. Her heart rebelled and pulled away, intimidated by something that was, in every possible definition of the term, as heartless as Ulquiorra Cifer. Everything she was not. Everything that had nearly torn her trusting heart to pieces with his cold lips and harsh words in that very library not but a few weeks prior.

In her distraction, she missed the brief hesitance in the narrowing of his eyes as well as the tense silence around them.

"…you are afraid of me."

Wide eyed and stunned by his observation, Orihime quickly shot her gaze up to his.

Her lips moved without sound, only to have her eyes betray her when they darted down to that disconcerting spot at his chest, hidden under a single layer of innocent white fabric. Her fingers curled against her breast as a tingling warmth seemed to both repel and draw her in, telling her to stay away lest she be burned, yet at once daring her to pull that zipper down to examine what lay beneath. Orihime sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, her mind and heart continuing to pull her in differing directions.

"I…I'm sorry," she whispered quietly. "I just…don't understand you, that's all."

Worried that he would get the wrong impression from her words, Orihime clenched her fist and quickly shook her head. "That doesn't mean I'm afraid of you," she amended briskly, trying to extinguish the potent heaviness surrounding them. She remained determined and pushed aside the darkest parts of herself; the parts that felt feverish and uncomfortable in his presence, the parts that hurt when he wounded her with his words, the parts that made her skin crawl when she felt his deathly cold reiatsu, and the parts that swam with aversion to that hole in his body that seemed to rule his character so completely. Orihime hesitantly lifted her hand and settled the warmth of her fingers against his chest, her palm carefully pressed to the uncomfortable dip beneath the cloth. It was an unspoken statement that she was not afraid of what he truly was; a Hollow. "No matter what you do, I don't think I could ever find it in myself to fear you." Closing her eyes, the corner of her lips tilted against the feel of him under her palm. "I could never fear someone like you, Ulquiorra."

At some point that even she was unaware of, Orihime had vowed to know this man. Even if he refused, fought, and pushed her away at every turn, Orihime would make him understand the value of the heart. She knew he would never feel the world as she felt it, even if she ripped out her own heart and placed it into his chest. She had no desire to change Ulquiorra, but she would show him that emptiness was not the only means to survive and thrive against the dark. The heart was not something one had to physically possess in order to feel.

He stared down at her, silent against her words. His eyes read the tentative trust she continued to place in him, the way her lashes rested easily against her cheeks, and the utter lack of fear she displayed by touching him again and again after his many attempts to warn her off.

His eyes always had been so penetrating and intimidating, and being on the receiving end of such an agonizingly deep gaze made her want to fretfully look away. Under her fingers, Orihime could feel his chest as it rose and fell with each steady breath. She fought the doubt manifesting in her, warning her of what lay in her future should she continue to push him further, allowing him deeper and deeper inside.

She was usually in such sweet harmony with that heart of hers, but now she wasn't sure what she wanted.

However, merely looking up into those green eyes caused the thudding of her pulse to drown out any thoughts of denying herself him. She really should have learned her lesson the last time they were in the library together.

"And what of you? Are you afraid of me?" she murmured in turn, tilting her head and blinking up at him with sincere curiosity.

Are you afraid of my heart?

She watched the way his brow dropped a fraction. A little thrill ran through her at the sight of it. To have enticed a reaction from her stoic warden, no matter how small or meaningless, she knew she had nudged him off center. She knew he'd caught the unspoken words.

She sang in silent victory as she saw that polished veneer in his eyes shift a little as they remained locked on hers; curious, studying, almost searching.

"No," he answered and she offered another small smile.

"It makes me happy to hear that, Ulquiorra." She grinned and he seemed quite rapt by her unusual reaction. "It would have saddened me if you were." Her hand accidentally grazed his abdomen as it dropped from his chest, sweeping down his waist and stomach in the faintest of touches. When she felt her nails skim across that small sliver of taut, bare flesh exposed just below his jacket, a scandalous tremor of excitement stirred in the deepest reaches of her being before she dropped her hand completely.

Orihime knew further talk of hearts, friends, and bonds would only push him further away from her. Strangely, that was the last thing she wanted at the moment. She wanted to draw him in and engage with her, rather than ignore and dismiss her as usual.

"Tell me, Ulquiorra," she began softly, leveling him with an inquisitive gaze. "What are you afraid of?" For a single moment Orihime considered how, in retrospect, living in Hueco Mundo one should have everything to fear. "Most people are terrified of death…does death scare you, as well?"

"Fatality is nothing to fear," he answered. "It is a mere inevitability."

Orihime watched him, slightly fascinated with the unusual views that he always seemed to offer her. Such observations were foreign to her and something inside her loved to hear him talk about them. He never spoke of things uselessly and his words held no hidden meanings, making it easier for her simple mind to catch on. Ulquiorra meant what he said, there was no guessing. When she recalled the feeling of his chest under her fingers from just moments earlier, and even the brush of his lips upon her neck from weeks prior, Orihime came to the reluctant conclusion that she enjoyed touching him just as much as she enjoyed listening to him.

If not more so.

"Does nothing trouble you, then?" She stared unabashedly as he fell silent, her question hanging in the air between them like a hazy mist that was catching in her lungs with each passing second.

"I would find it exceedingly…troublesome…were I to fade away." Ulquiorra thought of how vexing it may be to never experience the finality of an existence, to never receive a resolution. Be it through the fading of time, or the end of a battle that never saw the finishing blow and allowed him to merely waste away in dishonor.

Her brow knit with confusion. Even though the meaning escaped her, the words had caused a strange and unsettling ache in her chest.

"I don't understa-"

Orihime started when the doors leading to the foyer of the library crept open. Her dark eyes focused on the deaf servant that attended her room as he wheeled in a single cart filled with sweet teas and early morning delights. Temporarily distracted, the girl followed his movements with her eyes curiously, wondering why he never lifted his gaze from the floor. It was only a second later that Orihime suddenly realized how very close she had been standing to Ulquiorra.

Reflexively, she took a modest step back and glanced up at him briefly. His eyes were staring off elsewhere, seemingly lost in some far away thought that was deep enough to draw his brow down a bit.

She felt a wave of disappointment at the intrusion. It had broken the calm of the moment. Regardless, the scent of warm bread and steaming tea pulled at her curiosity enough to approach the cart. The mute Arrancar backed away nervously at her advance, prompting her to offer him a kind smile.

"Thank you very much," she said. Her fingers played delicately over the small flower that was set atop the tray and her expression softened as she tucked the pale thing behind her ear. Orihime directed her gaze back to the quiet creature. "Would you like to try some?" she asked with a big smile. Sincerity was rich in her voice as she encouraged him forward coaxingly.

The mute Arrancar seemed to panic for a moment upon receiving her attention. Hopelessly flustered, he immediately lowered his head and turned away. He left in a hurry, making sure to keep a wide breadth between himself and the lone Espada across the room.

Wounded and baffled by his reaction, Orihime stared after him with furrowed brows. "Did I say something wrong?" She turned to Ulquiorra, only to discover he had not been paying either of them a bit of attention. Judging by the way he was sitting with his head angled slightly down, he'd apparently gone back to reading his book. "It's not as if I can eat all of this by myself…" she mumbled as she poured their tea. It seemed every time she spoke to the mute creature, the poor thing became skittish and flighty.

With a resigned sigh to forget the Arrancar's bewildering behavior towards her, she lifted the tray and carefully placed it on the short-legged table in front of the couch. Adjusting her skirts, she took a seat beside her warden.

Her eyes chanced a quick glance at him. With his gaze once more glued to the pages of his book, she knew starting another conversation with him again would be futile. It would be nothing but an uphill battle. Reconciled to be cast into silence once more, she plopped several cubes of sugar into her cup before lifting the china to her lips for a heavy, yet quiet, sip.

Orihime rested the small teacup to the saucer held in her lap as her dark eyes stared out past the floor-to-ceiling windows that opened up to the desert outside. Unconcealed by glass, the casements allowed the sun to filter into the room unrestrained. Long white drapes billowed gently with the breeze, lifting from the floor with the occasional gust of wind.

Despite the relaxing calm, her mind was stuck on his words. She was unable to move past them without analyzing their meaning. She wanted to ask him, she wanted to know more. She just wanted to speak with him again.

When a sudden rush of heat filled her chest before spreading outwards to her extremities, Orihime couldn't seem to focus on the subject much longer. Her eyes turned to the windows once more, wondering if she should move to the other end of the room to seek out the fresh air there.

Her blurring gaze sought out her warden, making her exhale raggedly when the room seemed to spin with the movement. She blinked in an effort to clear her vision, only to have her breath suddenly leave her the next moment.

It was then she realized something was very, very wrong.

The sound of shattering porcelain registered somewhere in her mind as she made an effort to stand. Grasping for the arm of the couch, her hands shook wearily.

She seemed to lose all sense of time and space, up or down.

"Ul…Ulquiorra," she called quietly when she collapsed. She felt arms catch her and slowly lower her back to the cold marble of the floor.

She couldn't breathe.

Her lungs felt painfully tight and every breath she took only seemed to constrict them even more than the last. A noise of fear escaped her throat when the edges of her vision began to turn dark. It was all happening so fast, too terrifyingly fast for her to comprehend. Her efforts to take air into her body redoubled in a panic, inhaling deep, raspy breaths that did absolutely nothing to relieve the strain. Her chest heaved and her back arched as her lungs convulsed painfully, demanding air that wouldn't come. She tried to call for help, her warden's name twisting on her tongue as she urgently clawed at her chest and throat in alarm.

A tear rolled down her temple when she saw his silhouette over her, her eyes silently pleading with him as she reached out for him helplessly.

"Pl-please…" she choked out. "Air."

She felt a hand on her back, lifting her carefully off the hard ground. Her eyes never left his as his other hand slid up her chest, slipping between her breasts to rest over her sternum. When the chilling strength of his reiatsu slowly crept into her, reaching deep inside her body and spreading through her lungs in a manner that immediately relieved some of the pressure, a glimmer of hope flourished in her like a seed of life.

Instantly she attempted to suck in another breath, only to have terror flood her in an uncontrollable manner when she realized no air would come. Her fingers dug into his arm as her legs began to kick.

She searched his eyes, praying he would see her desperation as the hand resting at her back shifted to her nape to lift her to him. When she felt his lips touch hers, followed by the air that was suddenly pushed into her aching lungs, Orihime eagerly grasped both his mask and his hair and pulled him closer with a hard tug. Her chest frantically accepted the respite that he offered. Closing her eyes, she mentally sighed in relief at the life he breathed into her.

She sensed him shift and the uncomfortably dizzying phenomena of sonido abruptly washed over her, leaving her mind and body scrambling to keep up - or perhaps that was simply the lack of oxygen. She couldn't seem to tell anymore. Then voices were surrounding them and he pulled away from her as his eyes moved elsewhere. Orihime couldn't seem to register any of his words, or discern if he was even speaking to her. With building panic, she clutched and pulled at his jacket in an attempt to force his lips back onto hers, a pleading whimper catching in her throat. A strangled gasp rushed out of her as what little air he'd provided began to evaporate back into nothing.

That agonizing fear jolted through her anew when he ignored her efforts and pulled her hands away from him whilst he continued to speak to the unknown persons in the unfamiliar room. There was cold steel at her back suddenly and a bright light coming to life above her. Orihime wondered, just maybe, if it was the light to the other side.

There were figures around her, blurred by her fading vision and shaded by the immensity of the light overhead.

She didn't want to go to that terrifying light…

Not when she had so many people that she wanted to see again, people she needed.

With the last ounce of her strength, Orihime slowly turned her head in search of a familiar face…any face, but she could find none. There were no brooding brown eyes with strawberry blonde hair, nor violet eyes or strong smiles. No sharp faces with glasses that never failed to slide down an angular nose. No wavy Latin mane, no dark skin. No furrowed brow with redundant frowns and spiky brunette locks.

No green eyes.

Darkness took her softly. It was not painful or dramatic. Quite the contrary.

For a moment she considered fighting it, but there was no strength left in her body. There was not a single ounce of air left in her lungs and before long, all the noises, lights and sounds around her faded completely - leaving her in a peaceful silence.

..

…

TBC

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..

Just to inform everyone, Arturo is not an OC. He is an actual character from the games that I simply used as fodder.