The Furthest Planet From The Sun

by Mahi-Mahi

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

16. Chapter 16

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CHAPTER 16

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"Kon, get your ass up!" Ichigo shouted. Throwing himself from the confines of his bed, the blankets that had been covering him went flying in a disorderly whirlwind. "Kon!" he shouted again. However, when Ichigo's feet touched the floor, instead of meeting cold solid concrete, the shrill squeak of a stuffed animal was his sole reply as the heel of his foot jabbed into the stomach of the little gold lion.

A sharp yowl erupted from the toy underfoot whilst it thrashed and squirmed in protest to the weight bearing down on it. Thrown completely off balance, Ichigo's arms flailed as his compromised footing sent him floundering backwards.

"Ichigooo!" Kon's shrieking voice pierced the once silent room as the young Substitute Shinigami fell back onto his ass, crashing down with a colorful curse.

With his legs spread out before him, Ichigo's face contorted into a look of discomfort as he shifted onto his hip to rub at his sore backside. Another squeak drew his attention up to where his discarded blankets began to shift and move on the floor.

"Good morning, Ichigo!" Abruptly, the covers were thrown aside and Kon's plush form appeared out from the messy pile of laundry, launching towards the young man.

"Damn it, Kon!" Ichigo barked. Reaching out, he snatched the mod soul mid-air before it even had the chance to latch onto his face. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop laying in front of my bed like that!" Gritting his teeth, he proceeded to shake the toy violently.

"Ichigo! Cut it out! What are you doing? Stop that! I'm getting dizzy! Have mercy!" Kon ranted on and on, all the while seeing stars as Ichigo continued to rattle and jostle him vengefully.

"Shaddup!" Ichigo ordered and finally stopped to offer the little toy a much needed reprieve. "You're the one who chose to come here in the first place, remember?" he bit out angrily. "After I told you to stay home and look after my family."

"Hey, I'm still looking out for them!" Kon's sewn on eyebrows drew down as he lifted a plush paw into the air defensively. "I just thought I'd stop by for a few days to see how you were doing. You've been gone so long. How do you think your little sisters feel about your absence, huh?" he huffed dramatically.

Ichigo frowned and looked away, clearly not wanting to think about it. "I thought I told you to shut it already," he sighed. His voice had completely lost all of its energy.

"Not to mention your dad keeps harping on and on about what a terrible failure his son is for dropping out of school at such a young age and that one of you should just commit suicide already to regain your family honor!"

Ichigo growled as his face twisted back into an expression of annoyance. "Just be quiet. Like I care about that old geezer," he scoffed before suddenly turning back to glare down into Kon's beady eyes. "Now cough it up. I don't have time to sit around here all day." That was all the warning he gave before his fist was abruptly thrust into the little lion's belly.

Kon squeaked as the small turquoise pill burst from his mouth. Dropping the lifeless toy, Ichigo caught the capsule before it could hit the ground and tossed the glassy orb down his throat.

Instantly his soul was forced from his body. Without wasting another minute, he made for the door.

"Hey, wait a minute! Where do you think you're going, Ichigo?" Kon called out from behind him.

Ichigo paused in front of the door.

"Listen, Kon," he began quietly. "If I don't come back…promise me you really will look after my family." The short noise of surprise Ichigo heard behind him was proof enough that Kon had picked up on the message. "Make sure they stay happy." Even if Kon was forced to leave Ichigo's body, he just wanted someone to watch over them when he couldn't. Not that Kon was an excellent choice…but he was the only choice Ichigo had at the moment.

"Ichigo…"

"I'm going to Hueco Mundo and I don't know when I'll be back," he explained soberly.

"You're going to rescue Inoue-san?" Kon asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," he answered after a brief span of silence. As he reached out for the doorknob, Kon's voice halted him one last time. Turning slightly, Ichigo leveled him with a narrowed gaze.

"Then, Ichigo…I just want you to know…" Kon lowered his head, his fists clenched at his sides. "Please…" His head suddenly sprung back up and his eyes were glistening with unusual seriousness. Ichigo's lashes widened slightly. He was unused to seeing this side of the mouthy little mod-soul. "Please bring Inoue-san back so I can once more bask in the beauty of her XXXLarge Valley of the Gods!"

Ichigo blinked.

Seconds later, his face slowly sank into a glare of unreserved disgust.

"You pervert!" he yelled out and promptly launched his foot into his face.

"Thankyouverymuch~!" Kon cried as he went flying.

It may have been his own body, but the subsequent crunch Ichigo felt under his heel as it collided with his body's nose was quite satisfying - as was the sight of Kon rocketing through the air clear to the other end of the room where he smashed into the cold metal wall like a bug. Bruised and twitching, he proceeded to slide down the paneling and crumple into an undignified heap on the floor.

Immediately, Kon's hands were on his face, pinching his bleeding nose as he complained profusely.

Ignoring his loud protests, Ichigo sighed and quickly turned back to the door. "Don't worry about her, Kon," he said with a small smile. "I'll get her back." The mod-soul paused at his words and fell completely silent.

Ichigo didn't wait for any response. He didn't have time for it. Without further delay he was out the door and running for the exit. It may have been a few days premature of the original seven that he'd told Hachi, but his patience had worn far too thin to hold his actions back any longer.

Orihime needed him.

Across the warehouse, the distinct shock of Shinji's blonde hair was impossible to miss. While strolling towards the kitchen with a pair of headphones plugged into his ears, Shinji looked up when he caught sight of Ichigo's figure running for the door, the boy's own strawberry blonde locks proving equally difficult to overlook.

"Hey, Ichigo!" Shinji yelled out as he yanked the headphones from his ears. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" The little brat better not be trying to skip out on cleaning duty.

Ichigo felt his hurried steps falter at the sound of the man's voice. He almost stopped. However, Ichigo knew if he explained himself the Vizard would only try to sway him into staying. He simply couldn't take that chance. He couldn't wait another second, day, or month. He wouldn't. Orihime needed him now.

Sparing the Vizard a hesitant glance, Ichigo quickly turned back away and took off in a dead run.

He didn't like leaving things like this…

Perhaps if he made it back from Hueco Mundo, he would get the chance to properly thank him and the rest of the Vizards. He at least owed them that much. And his family…

As Ichigo shook the thoughts from his head, Shinji's eyes followed the young man as he disappeared out the large doors of the warehouse.

"That idiot…"

---

While running through the streets of Karakura Town, Ichigo could already feel the spiritual pressure of the Hollows growing close. With such potent reiatsu, they had to be Arrancar. Three, judging by the distinct energy patterns they were emitting.

Jumping up to the roof of a nearby restaurant, he closed his eyes in an attempt to pinpoint their exact location. They were moving fast, making it that much more difficult to track them.

Gritting his teeth, Ichigo furrowed his brows and concentrated harder. This kind of shit never had been his forte.

Seconds later, his eyes snapped back open. Finally, he had a good lock on their position.

They were heading straight for that old bastard's shop.

Maybe if he hurried and got there quickly he could take care of the problem and use Urahara to slip into Hueco Mundo unnoticed.

However, just as the thought entered his mind, Ichigo felt the wooden panels of the roof under his feet begin to quiver. Off in the distance, not too far behind him, a Captain level reiatsu burst to life.

Shit…

Toshiro.

The limiter must have been broken. If Toshiro had gotten the go ahead for a Gentei Kaijo then Soul Society must already be aware of the situation. If that was the case, he couldn't afford to waste any time. Hurrying his pace, he leapt back onto the pavement of the streets below and took off.

His breath was getting a little short by the time he turned the last corner to reach Urahara's. Cutting across the sidewalk, Ichigo jumped the curve and stopped in his tracks when he noticed the lone figure standing in the middle of the desolate street, blocking his path.

Cold, icy blue eyes stared back at him from behind narrowed lashes.

Ichigo froze, momentarily taken off guard, before he quickly came to his senses and settled his hand more fully over his sword. He didn't even wait to be addressed, he really didn't have time for all that bullshit. If he wanted to pull his little scheme off before Toshiro got there, he'd have to hurry.

"Toshiro send you here to stop me?" he called out. The way he gripped his sword easily conveyed he wasn't above resorting to violence.

Rangiku Matsumoto's eyes somehow managed to narrow even further. The stern expression on her face said all Ichigo needed to know.

If he had to fight her, he would. From the looks of things, he probably didn't have a choice.

"Just let me pass. I'm only trying to save Inoue!" He felt his temper beginning to simmer again. After all, she had taken both Rangiku and Toshiro into her home. "She was your friend too, wasn't she? Doesn't that count for something?"

Ichigo grit his teeth at her silence.

"I don't want to fight you…but I will."

The beautiful woman took a step closer and Ichigo jerked his body into a defensive stance. With another step and another, Ichigo kept his guard up as she came to stand a few small feet in front of him. Suddenly, and without warning, Rangiku burst out laughing and lunged for the boy. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she shoved his face into her breasts and snuggled her cheek into his hair happily.

Ichigo froze up, stunned by the unexpected change in her demeanor.

"Wh…what the hell?!" he shouted. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he began prying at the woman's arms, searching for freedom from her suffocating bust.

"You should have seen your face! You really thought I was gonna fight you!" she giggled obnoxiously.

Ichigo growled, still unable to surface for air. Her cleavage smelled of perfume and sake, nearly making him dizzy. "Then what the fuck are you doing here? And let me go, I can't breathe!" His words were muffled against her chest and for a short moment, he was able to pull back just enough for a quick gasp, only to have her ram him back into her bosom. "Damn it, get your tits outta my face, you pervert!" he demanded, already feeling his cheeks begin to blush a dark red.

"Silly Kurosaki-kun," she crooned seductively. Grabbing his cheeks, she pulled him closer and nestled his chin into the perfect groove of her soft breasts. "Captain didn't send me here to stop you," she explained and Ichigo's eyes widened in shock both at her statement and the way she kept pulling him closer. "He sent me here to make sure you finally get your ass in gear and save Orihime-chan." She smiled sweetly, despite her insulting words.

Ichigo blinked, taken off guard by her yet again.

"Wh-what the hell! Just what do you think I've been doing all this time? Sitting on my ass?" he complained. Finally prying her hands away, he was able to escape the burrow of her breasts. "You're the ones who wouldn't allow me close to Urahara's…no matter how many times I tried," he finished bitterly.

"But we're letting you through now!" she supplied cheerily. "Let's see…what was it the Captain said…?" She tapped her chin in thought. "Ah, yes! He said, 'make sure that ill-mannered halfwit doesn't do anything stupid to lose this chance to slip into Hueco Mundo'," she related in her best Toshiro impression.

"Halfwit, huh?" Ichigo's lip curled.

"Ichigo," Rangiku said, her face and voice suddenly becoming serious. "Orihime means a lot more to us than what you may think…to all of us." She didn't have to clarify herself. Even Ichigo knew she was referring to the entire Thirteen Court Guard, including the Commander. Whether he believed her or not was another issue. "We…I really miss her. We only want her returned as safely as possible."

"Yeah, well, I'm not the one who sold her to Aizen," he spat and moved to walk around her. Instantly her hand shot out and gripped his chin. Forcing him to look back at her, her beautiful eyes turned to ice in a second.

"Do you even understand what would have happened had the Commander not made such a sacrifice?" she asked gravely. "It's not like he enjoyed doing what he had to do. But I know it's what Orihime would have wanted. If she knew how many lives it saved, she would have gone forward with no complaints in her heart and you know that."

Ichigo's eyes widened, realizing for the first time that she was right.

"Everybody in Soul Society knows she never left with that Arrancar willingly. And everybody thus far has had the decency to respect her sacrifice and not let the opportunity she has given us be in vain…everybody except you. All you have done is wallow in your misery and loneliness. Do you really think she would have wanted that?" Abruptly, she pulled his face close to stare into his eyes. "You will save her, Ichigo Kurosaki. And you will bring her back to us safely."

There was a long silence that fell over the street then. With her grip firm and her eyes unyielding, Rangiku gazed into his wide, chocolate depths. It took a moment, but when that fire slowly began returning to his eyes, she couldn't help the little smile that tugged on the corner of her lips.

His eyes suddenly narrowed with determination, burning with fortitude and resolve.

This was the Ichigo Kurosaki she remembered.

"Now that's what I like to see," she grinned further. Patting his cheek once, she leaned back and released him.

"What of the Arrancar? I can't just allow them to attack the town…" Ichigo began.

"Don't worry about that. Me and the Captain have everything under control."

"Don't forget about us," a familiar voice came from above.

Ichigo jerked his head up and was briefly blinded by the bright sunlight. Squinting his eyes, he watched as several silhouettes came into focus. There, overhead and lining the rooftops, was the group of Vizards that had taken him under their wing.

"I think we can handle a few little Hollows, right guys?" Shinji voiced, keeping his eyes pinned on a visibly surprised Ichigo.

"But-"

"Let's just say, you aren't the only one who wants Inoue-san back…Kurosaki-san," Hachi cut him off before he could protest.

In one fluid motion, Shinji jumped from the top of the old brick building and landed several yards away. Soon after, the rest of the Vizards followed in his wake.

"Just get over it, idiot," Hiyori folded her arms over her chest haughtily, looking as bitter and un-cute as ever. "You seriously need to get it through your thick skull that you're not the only one who knows how to fight Hollows. What do you have, a hero-complex or something? We can take care of things here just fine! We don't even need someone like you."

"I hate to say it, but she's right." Rose sighed and Love nodded in agreement from beside him.

"Yeah, what are you waiting for?" Mashiro cheered excitedly and began pushing at his back, encouraging him forward. "Get moving! Get moving!" she laughed and leaned her weight completely into him. When the boy refused to budge she abruptly turned to her once-Captain and began pouting…loudly. "Kensei~" she whined.

"Tch, it isn't our problem if he's too stubborn to recognize help when he gets it…let alone when he needs it." Kensei crossed his arms and looked away, prompting the petite girl to pucker her lips in protest.

Dropping his head, the strawberry blonde fringe of hair hid Ichigo's face as he fell strangely silent. Still pressed against his back, Mashiro leaned more fully into him and draped her arms over his hips. "Hm? He's gone very quiet, Kensei~" she noted aloud, resting her chin atop his spine and staring up at the back of his head studiously.

"Perhaps he is unprepared to face Inoue-san again and tell her how much he loves her," Lisa said, her face deadpan and serious. "The teenage body is a very hormonal thing."

At his side, Ichigo's fists clenched. He grit his teeth.

That isn't it, he thought. Idiots.

All this time, he'd been sulking about, brooding over the unfairness of it all and believing he'd been abandoned just like Inoue. He had believed he'd had no friends.

Yet, he'd been surrounded by comrades all along.

If Rukia were here…she'd punch him for sure.

Lifting his head, he leveled Shinji with an unwavering stare. "I'll get her back," he said, feeling strong for the first time in months. Shifting his gaze to the rest of the group, he was surprised to see all their smiles reflecting back at him. "That's a promise."

The conviction in his voice was back and when Mashiro suddenly pushed him towards the shop, he didn't resist.

He only kept running forward.

---

Landing atop the old tin roof at the back of the candy store, Ichigo grimaced as he caught the scent of tobacco. His expression hardened slightly and he jumped to the ground.

"Welcome." Curls of smoke floated through the air, winding about in gray wisps that shifted on the breeze. "I was thinking it was about time you showed up…Kurosaki-san." Kisuke Urahara grinned from beneath the steep rim of his pinstriped bucket hat. Tilting his long pipe, he tapped its stem and dumped a few ashes onto the sidewalk.

"Why did you think that?" Ichigo asked.

Turning on the heel of his sandals, Urahara began to make his way into the shop. "You thought that I might know 'the way to Hueco Mundo', right?" he said. Ichigo found that he really wasn't all that surprised to learn Kisuke was already well aware of his intentions, and apparently had been for some time now. "This confirms it. The preparations have been made."

Continuing on, Kisuke led the way, guiding Ichigo towards the underground facility; a path the boy already knew by heart.

"I feared that Aizen may be gunning for Inoue's abilities. She was the most vulnerable out of your group and deliberately taking advantage of her as a distraction may have simply proven too tempting to pass up," Kisuke explained as they jumped down to the training grounds built under the shop. "Just before she was taken, myself, Chad, and several others came across an Espada in the park where the Arrancar first appeared. I'm not sure, but it appeared he was examining the residual reiatsu particles that Inoue's powers had left behind. What's worse, it was the same guy that appeared with that huge Neanderthal, the very one that blocked a direct attack from my Benihime with nothing but his hand." Ichigo's eyes widened, recognizing the description of the pale Arrancar. "It seemed too suspicious for me to ignore, so I took her out of the battle…but it was too late."

Moving deeper into the dusty landscape, they came upon two large rocks. Both of which had a single, equally proportionate wooden beam projecting out from their sides.

"Taking her feelings into consideration and not removing her sooner was my mistake," he continued as they walked. Ichigo stared at the dirt under his feet, suddenly understanding everything. He also understood the guilt the man must have been feeling. "That's why I intend to do everything I can to help."

"Is that okay?" Ichigo asked. "You'll be disobeying Soul Society's orders."

At this, Kisuke gave a small and somewhat ironic chuckle.

"I've been disobeying them in one way or another from the very beginning." A cheerless grin tilted Kisuke's lips as he glanced over his shoulder. "That's why I'm here."

"That's a pretty long face, Kurosaki," someone suddenly announced from behind them.

Turning back, Ichigo felt his muscles tense up at the sight of a very composed Ishida perched atop a lone boulder. With his legs crossed and his forearm draped over his knee, he looked rather relaxed as he stared down at them.

"Ishida?" Ichigo gasped, feeling somewhat uncertain. He hadn't seen him since before Inoue's disappearance. "Why…are you here?"

The Quincy smirked.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Ichigo whipped around, his eyes widening at the tall, muscular form that was making its way closer to the group. "To go to Hueco Mundo, Ichigo."

"Chad!"

"Urahara-san told us what's going on."

"What?" Ichigo's eyes narrowed into icy slits as he turned on the blonde Shinigami, suddenly feeling rather pissed off. Kisuke laughed nervously. "How did you know I would be here today?"

"Let's just say Hachi tipped me off about your little 'seven day plan'." Kisuke smirked and snapped his fan open to begin batting it under his eyes innocently. "I kinda figured you wouldn't have the patience to wait a full week."

"We heard from Urahara-san that you were leaving today…and we're going too," Chad interjected.

The burning resentment that welled up inside him was difficult for Ichigo to hide as his expression fell into a dark grimace. "You can't." He abruptly turned away, blatantly dismissing both of the young men that had come to help.

They didn't know all the shit he had gone through. They were the ones who up and disappeared for months on end. They were never there. How could they possibly understand what was happening? He'd been left alone, fighting for Inoue without any backup support…without their backup. All the nightmares he'd suffered, all the feelings of abandonment, all the horrendous things he kept imagining that were happening to her, all the hours he spent hating himself for having to depend on an Arrancar to keep her safe and protected, for not being strong enough.

Now they just randomly showed up because Urahara asked them? What bullshit! His fists clenched at his sides as his frown grew deeper. How dare they even come there and try to pretend like they were friends of Inoue's! That they were his friends!

Where were they when he was busting his ass trying to do something for her?

But, worse still, despite all of this…what if something happened to them while in Hueco Mundo? Did they even know the dangers? What if they got hurt and he wouldn't be able to protect them…just like he hadn't been able to protect Inoue.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but Chad, Ishida…with your power…"

"Ichigo-!"

He barely had time to block the bludgeoning strength of Chad's attack. Like a battering ram, his fist slammed into the side of Ichigo's sword, pushing him back several feet from the sheer force. Dust scattered through the underground facility and by the time things had settled down, Ichigo was staring into Chad's lone, exposed eye peeking out from behind his mop of wavy Latin hair.

"Even after that, is my power still not enough, Ichigo?"

"Chad…"

"Believe in us," he said and even though his voice was as calm and serene as ever, there was an underlying strength and perseverance that could not be overlooked. "We've been working just as hard as you have all this time. You haven't been alone. We never gave up on Inoue-san…or you." Ichigo's breath caught in his throat, guilt suddenly washing through him. "Don't carry the burden by yourself. That's what friends are for."

It was at that moment that Ichigo felt a great weight lift from his shoulders.

No matter how much he convinced himself that running into a strange world filled with undead, bloodthirsty monsters was not a prospect that induced fear inside him, the concern was still there. But now, with friends by his side, he felt strangely…better.

Now he felt there was nothing to fear. Now, the fate of Inoue's future didn't rest solely in his hands.

Now he didn't have to be alone in this fight.

For the first time in a long time, Ichigo felt a glimmer of hope inside him once again.

Urahara's theatrical clapping brought the boys out of their reverie and with a few instructions and some words of advice, he opened the garganta and Chad, Ichigo, and Ishida set off for Hueco Mundo.

"Yes! Are you all prepared?" Kisuke had asked them as they gathered in a small group before him. At their resolute gazes, he couldn't help but smirk. Certainly Yoruichi would have loved to have seen such a look in their eyes. "At last, it seems like you are."

---

It had been well over an hour since he'd left her…and there he was, still wandering around close to the fourth tower.

Lingering in the long archway between the tower and the dome, Grimmjow leaned back onto the cold concrete wall and raked his hand through his hair. Half-way through the soothing action, he grit his teeth hard and dug his nails into his scalp. Great…now he was making an utter mess of his hair. It only caused his agitation to grow. Quickly, he combed it back with his fingers and smoothed it down into the unruly style he usually wore it in.

This was getting out of hand.

He turned away, ready to find something better to do with his time. Just as he finally started to move further into the dome, he felt something odd ripple through the air of Las Noches. His pesquisa wasn't as sharp as Ulquiorra's, but even he could tell something was seriously off. About half an hour ago he had sensed something similarly strange, kinda like a Kido seal being cracked. He'd ignored it at the time. He knew Ulquiorra had already taken the girl out of her room sometime ago, literally not two minutes after that unusual reishi burst, and now his instincts were practically tingling with suspicion.

Against his better judgment, he ignored it again. Oddly enough, he wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone else's problems, even if those problems included violence. He'd had plenty enough of that kind of shit for the night.

However, several minutes later Grimmjow felt a cold chill run down his spine. It stopped him in his tracks.

That feeling…

Grimmjow's eyes suddenly widened.

Ulquiorra.

His reiatsu just…disappeared.

Whipping his head in the direction of the disturbance, he stared with large, disbelieving eyes. What the fuck was going on? If something had happened to that bastard, then…

The princess.

"You have got to be kidding me." He scowled in annoyance, trying to disregard the strange numbness that was washing over him. Just as he suspected, Grimmjow sensed a devastating wave of distress shiver through the girl's reiatsu only seconds later. It was nothing but pure, unadulterated emotion. It struck him hard, almost as if he could feel her pain.

He really should have thought it through better, but his feet started moving before he even had the chance to stop them.

Before he knew it he was standing in the hall of the south wing, slightly breathless as he scanned the area. With his fists clenched at his side, he stared blankly down the empty corridor. There was a strange, ghostly quiet hanging in the air along with the stench of death.

Grimmjow's eyes dilated as he gazed at the growing pool of blood slowly spreading out from the lone doorway in the hall. On the opposite wall, heavy splatters of crimson liquid stained the white paint.

Hushed and weak, he caught the sound of a broken feminine sob.

His heart began to pound harder in his chest and his breathing picked up slightly. As he moved closer, the overwhelming stink of blood grew stronger. When he rounded the doorway, it completely assaulted his senses. Scents like death and fear, fighting and hopelessness - all smells that Grimmjow was well acquainted with - flooded his sensitive nose.

Lifting his gaze from the large puddle, he stopped dead in his tracks.

His eyes widened in disbelief at the sight before him.

There on the floor, the princess was kneeling over Ulquiorra's unmoving body. Her soft cries flowed from her trembling lips unchecked as she struggled to hold his dead weight against her chest. The Espada uniform on him was completely unrecognizable as a white garment. Soaked as it was in blood, the girl was nearly just as drenched. The tips of her auburn hair were saturated in the morbid color, making it appear as fire.

Dropping his eyes a fraction, Grimmjow felt his mouth go dry at the sight of Ulquiorra's body. Limp and torn in all the wrong places, he was nearly gutted. Orihime's tremulous hand was pressed against his abdomen. It seemed to be the only thing that kept his innards from spilling out.

For a long, long moment, Grimmjow couldn't seem to get his lungs to work.

Finally becoming aware of his presence, Orihime's head weakly lifted to meet his eyes.

Like something terrible and broken and not completely there in the head, her face slowly contorted into the most desperate expression he'd quite possibly ever seen on a living creature.

"Grimmjow-kun," she whined pathetically, as if he could fix it. "Please help me."

Grimmjow swallowed hard.

"I…I don't know what else to do." She turned her eyes back to the man in her arms, looking totally and utterly lost. "He won't…Ulquiorra won't wake up. They just attacked him and…I didn't…I couldn't do…it's my fault. I don't know what to do. It's my fault. They wanted the Hogyoku, but Ulquiorra…I don't know what to do…it's my fault." She just kept repeating herself. Again and again, her eyes searched his body like she simply didn't know where to start trying to heal him - although it was clear by the fading glow of her shield that she'd already been trying for some time now. "I just don't know what to do," she whimpered pitifully and attempted to embrace him even tighter than she already was.

Seeing that bastard lying there like that, like some useless piece of garbage on the floor, Grimmjow suddenly felt an irrepressible swell of anger flare up inside him.

How dare he!

Who was responsible for this? Who did this to him?

Rushing forward, his nails dug hard into Orihime's scalp to get a good grip on her hair. She cried out in pain as he unexpectedly tossed her aside without an ounce of mercy. Without her support, Ulquiorra's body dropped to the bloody floor with a wet splat. It was creepy as all hell the way those large green eyes stared up at him, no different than the man's normal eerie gaze. Snarling bitterly, Grimmjow very nearly spat in his face.

"You fucking asshole!" he shouted in a blind rage and drove his foot hard into the side of Ulquiorra's head. Behind him, he only faintly registered Orihime's scream as Ulquiorra's head snapped around with a gut wrenching crack. His dark hair flew over his face, hiding away that disturbing stare as his upper body rolled from the force of the kick.

Pissed beyond all reason, Grimmjow could only drive his foot into Ulquiorra's head over and over again. "Get - your - worthless - fucking - ass - up!" he enunciated each word with a hate-filled kick, stomping the heel of his boot into to Ulquiorra's skull.

"What are you doing?!" Orihime shrieked in horror. This was going beyond anger. "Stop! Grimmjow-kun, stop!"

She tried to stop him, to move between him and the Espada's corpse. When she grabbed Grimmjow's arm, he merely threw her to the floor, shaking her from him without effort.

Kneeling down, Grimmjow straddled Ulquiorra's body as all color drained from his vision, evaporating into nothing until red was all he could see. Fisting the collar of Ulquiorra's jacket, he hauled him up, only to punch him when the movement was met with no resistance. "You fucking spineless piece of shit…" he ground out and punched him again. "All this fucking time and you couldn't even give me a fucking fight!" Repeatedly, Grimmjow pounded his face into the ground. "And you fucking die like this?! What a fucking joke! Fucking pathetic! Fucking coward!"

His face was twisted with anger and hate. Clenched so hard, his fist nearly began to shake from the fury blinding him. Gripping his jacket again, Grimmjow pulled him up only to slam Ulquiorra's head back into the hard floor again. He wouldn't have been the least bit disappointed if his skull had split open and sent his brains splattering all over the damned place.

Orihime was suddenly between them then. Her unexpected and small figure barring his way made Grimmjow pause.

"Grimmjow-kun," the princess's soft voice reached his ears, sounding so breakable and delicate. "Please stop…" Her breath hitched.

His hand tightened around the sticky wet fabric in his fingers. His fist was paused mid-air. With Ulquiorra's torso held up from the floor, Grimmjow stared as his head slowly rolled back like a lifeless doll, causing his midnight hair to fall away from his face and expose that dead gaze once more.

He was breathing hard, unable to reign in the uncontrollable resentment boiling inside of him. Between them, Orihime was draped over Ulquiorra's body, trying to protect him from Grimmjow's wrath. She was trembling and barely stemming her sobs.

Lowering his eyes, Grimmjow noticed the man's guts were about to come spilling out from his violent assault. No doubt the princess had noticed it as well, judging by the sick sounding gag she just released.

Her fingers tightened against Ulquiorra's shoulders as she pressed her face closer to his chest like he wasn't dead.

Grimmjow nearly scoffed.

Like it really fucking mattered anymore.

As pissed as he was, all he was really doing was just defacing a corpse.

"I'm so sorry, Grimmjow-kun," she whispered through her tears. "It's all my fault."

"Just shut the fuck up…damn annoying bitch," he spat and shoved her away harshly. Ignoring her pained cry, he got to his feet and threw Ulquiorra's body over his shoulder. "It's nobody's fault but his own."

Orihime was quick to get back up and rush him. Her protests were frantic and all over the damn place. Pushing into the solid part of his stomach, she tried to stop him from abusing Ulquiorra's body anymore than he already had. "What are you doing? Why are you taking him?" Her face was wrought with worry as she slapped her palms to his chest and abdomen.

Staring down at her, Grimmjow didn't even flinch at her puny efforts. He snarled once and merely continued to move forward, pushing her back with every step he took towards the door. When he showed no signs of slowing down, she nearly threw a bloody fit.

What a right merry clusterfuck of a mess this was…

"Get out of my way, princess," he warned darkly. The teeth he bared only spoke to how very little patience he had to deal with her at the moment.

"No." Resolute and firm, she stood her ground and met his brutal glare with one of her own. "Tell me where you are taking him."

"Keh, like it really makes a difference what I do with him. The bastard is dead." For some reason, he almost immediately regretted saying it when a look of horrible pain flashed through her eyes. Clenching his jaw, he quickly pushed the feeling away. "Get over it, princess," he snapped. "He's fucking gone. He got himself killed…he never deserved to live in the first place if he was defeated so easily!" Grimmjow had to stop himself from shouting as his anger suddenly flared tenfold. "He was a coward that couldn't even face me like a man! And now look at him! I'm glad the asshole is dead!"

Grimmjow could see the girl was really fighting the urge to shrink away from his imposing form. The fire in his eyes, his sheer size, his outraged yelling; all were no doubt beyond intimidating for the weak human. He stood, waiting for her to back down like the pathetic worm she was.

However, as the seconds ticked by she continued to hold not only his stare, but her ground. Her hands were practically seizing with tremors and her face was red and glistening with tears. But she didn't give up. Having lived such a violent life, there was little Grimmjow could admit to being intimidated by. Yet, as the small human glared up at him with unwavering determination, he found he simply couldn't push past her.

It was a strange thing then, when she looked deep into his eyes. She seemed to see straight into him, reading him like a book with a gaze that gradually melted into understanding and compassion.

Grimmjow suddenly felt very, very vulnerable.

"Don't you fucking dare look at me like that, you bitch," he hissed out slowly. His eyes were wide and wild and it was only by the grace of his last shreds of control that he hadn't reached forward and tore her throat out yet.

"Grimmjow-kun…" she whispered softly. "It's okay. I understand-"

"You don't know a fucking thing!" he quickly corrected her. Like hell he would allow her to say something as ridiculous as that out loud.

"Grimm-"

Abruptly, Orihime found her back slammed against the wall. Gasping and struggling, her feet kicked at air as his claws dug in around her face and lifted her clear off the ground. Almost automatically, her hands reached up to cling to his forearm, trying to ease the weight of her body straining around her neck and head.

"Shut your mouth!" he demanded, utterly offended by everything about her at the moment. "You don't understand shit about me, you overconfident little cunt." Hissing quietly, he leaned in close. He could feel her breath stuttering beneath his palm and her tears wetting his knuckles. "You have no fucking idea what it's like," he bit out. "You will never understand what it's like to be built for nothing but destruction. The uncontrollable, maddening urges; the utter insanity that grips your mind; the craving inside for just one more kill - it will never be something you could grasp with your tiny, insignificant, human mind."

Orihime's raspy breath caught against his palm when his fingers tightened their hold over her mouth. There was no hiding the fear in her eyes, not with his rage so palpable in the atmosphere between them. His face seemed unusually red from the venting of his anger, causing the veins in his neck and arms to bulge slightly.

"So, princess, I suggest before you open that pretty little mouth of yours to make assumptions about my feelings, you just might want to reconsider your words." Moving in closer, Grimmjow lightly rested his mouth over the back of his hand: the only thing separating his lips from hers. So near, his eyes felt as if they were burning holes into her. "If you can't fucking tell, I'm really not in the mood for all your self-righteous bullshit at the moment, girly. I hated that wretched bastard. Hate. That's it. Nothing else. Do you fucking understand? If he was pathetic enough to get himself killed, he wasn't worth the air around him needed to breathe. Don't you dare confuse any of my feelings with yours. Just because you can't stand the idea of losing your precious Ulquiorra doesn't mean I want to hear any of your sniveling, pious, emotional drivel." He punctuated his rant with an unforgiving squeeze. "If you even think of mentioning it again, I will piss all over it. So don't drag me into it, got it?"

It was small, but Grimmjow was able to discern the minute nod of her head to show she understood. In her eyes he could still see the clear evidence of fear, but there was also the spark of a persevering and unbendable determination. Perhaps if he wasn't so blinded by the upsurges of anger he would have been able to respect her inner source of willpower.

Slowly he lowered her feet back to the ground and released her, leaving a large red handprint across her face and several cuts from his claws. His palm felt hot and moist from her breath and he had to clench his fist just to try and erase the feeling.

Standing on shaking knees, she was looking up at him strangely. She didn't even bother trying to hide all the anger, hurt, and vulnerability she felt.

Grimmjow merely turned from her and walked away. He'd already expressed how he wasn't in the mood to deal with her right now. If she was too stupid to recognize that then he wasn't going to waste any more time on her.

However, it seemed she just couldn't help herself.

"If you didn't want to be bothered, if you really hate Ulquiorra so much…why did you come?"

Grimmjow froze.

"Just what are you trying to say, princess?" His voice reeked of danger.

"I'm saying it's okay to be sad."

He couldn't help it. He really couldn't. Grimmjow burst out laughing.

What a presumptuous thing to say!

She took a step back when he suddenly turned on her again. Ignoring her startled reaction, Grimmjow quickly snatched up her wrist and yanked her close to him.

"Really, princess," he began with a grin. "I never knew you had such a sense of humor." When she pulled at her arm, Grimmjow only disregarded her efforts and threw her over his other shoulder. Surprisingly, she didn't put up any fight. "If anything, I'm glad he's gone. With that pompous prick out of the way it means I'll be able to move up in rank."

Orihime's hands held tight to the back of Grimmjow's jacket when she felt the sudden change in velocity around her. The effects of sonido were still rather disruptive to her senses. However, she found she was far too emotionally drained to care.

Lifting her head ever so slightly, she turned her eyes to the body hanging over his other shoulder. Ulquiorra's soft hair was hanging about his face, obstructing her view of him. His clothes were absolutely covered in his blood; his sleeves, his collar, his pants. She watched as a trail of the crimson liquid ran down his cheek. It seeped out from his mouth and slithered past his eyes and forehead, only to disappear somewhere in his hair.

Orihime felt her eyes swell with more tears.

The red of it all was such a stark contrast to his pale skin, making it all the more prominent.

Lowering her focus, Orihime's gaze traveled down his arm to rest on his hand. Blood was dripping from the tips of his fingers.

Before she could delve any deeper into her remorse, she was abruptly jerked to a stop. Her head spun a little as she tried to catch up with the sudden shift, leaving her barely aware of the sound of a door slamming open.

Not a second later Grimmjow was striding forward into a room.

He tossed her down first and Orihime landed hard, suddenly feeling very tired and weak. However, the dead, wet thump that sounded next to her made her jerk her head over towards the noise. She stared at Ulquiorra's body in blind shock, unable to process if it was truly there, if it was real.

He'd kissed her earlier that day…

With a still trembling hand she gently touched his upturned fingertips with her own.

Dropping her head, Orihime let out a hushed and devastated sob. Had she truly come to care for him so deeply? Had her feelings developed so quietly that she hadn't even noticed until it was too late? There was something about him that she had always wanted to touch, to breathe life into. Now he was gone and she had been too weak to do anything about it.

"What kind of terrible mess is this…?" Aizen's familiar suave voice broke through her grief, causing her head to snap back up. There wasn't an ounce of true emotion in his words, despite the decidedly fake concern he laced into them. Then again, there was little else other than Ulquiorra's dead body lying in front of her that would properly register in her mind at the moment. All she could do was stare as Aizen laid the stack of papers he'd apparently been reading onto the small table sitting next to his chair. "Did something happen?" He smiled then. His tone implied ignorance, yet his eyes suggested otherwise. They were mocking and dark and Orihime, for once, just didn't care.

Instead of finding offense in his presence, Orihime found her hopes lifted by the sight of him. If not she, then perhaps Aizen could do something. Perhaps he could fix things.

"Found the fucker dead in the Hogyoku's vault." Grimmjow stepped forward and nudged his chin towards the body on the floor. It seemed to have finally run out of blood, as no more was running from the wounds. Scoffing once, he directed his gaze back to his master. "Figured you might want to know before I get rid of the body."

Orihime's eyes slid closed in sorrow, tears sliding down her cheeks at the mention of disposing of Ulquiorra's corpse like he meant nothing.

"The vault?" Aizen's voice rose in curiosity. "What was he doing there?"

"Hell if I know," Grimmjow replied and crossed his arms over his chest. "When I got there, he was already dead and the princess was the only one left." He glanced in Orihime's direction. "If you want answers, ask her."

Aizen turned his eyes to her. He was still smiling casually and seemed rather amused by Orihime's state of shock. "That won't be necessary, Grimmjow." It took a moment before his voice properly reached her brain. Pulling her own eyes from Ulquiorra, she looked up at him through dazed, watery lashes.

He watched her for a few seconds, peering deep into her, before he shifted his gaze to Ulquiorra and lifted his hand.

"Shatter, Kyuoka Suigetsu."

With a small wave of his hand, the body in front of her slowly began to fade away into glittering dust.

Confusion forced her into a frozen state of alarm. Before she realized it, her fingers were closing around the disappearing dust. Like air, the little particles only slipped through the cracks and faded away.

He was gone.

There was nothing left.

With her hands still clenched, she quietly brought her fists to her chest to cradle the invisible ashes there. He'd faded away and there was nothing she could do about it.

She stared at the floor, utterly lost for words.

"Don't be sad, my dear." Aizen's voice was so close and Orihime raised her head to find him kneeling directly in front of her. Too emotionally drained to be surprised by his nearness, she could only stare through her drying tears as he reached up to gently brush them away. "It's not as bad as all that." He chuckled lightly but Orihime didn't hear.

Taking her hands, he carefully pulled her to her feet.

"I do hate to see you so upset," he sighed ruefully. "But I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me this one indiscretion." Orihime's weak knees were barely able to keep her upright as he led her back to his chair. She couldn't make sense of what he was saying, but if the tone of his voice was anything to go by she really didn't want to hear it anyways.

At her side, her hand clenched into the layers of her skirt. It was extremely delayed, but the moment she realized there was no blood coating her uniform or her hands or anywhere, she very nearly lost her head to bewilderment. Behind her, Grimmjow's loud curse seemed to indicate he had responded with a similar reaction. Looking over her shoulder, she was surprised to see his uniform was pristine and white and lacking all the blood that had covered it only seconds prior.

"You see," Aizen began calmly. "I had to use you for a little experiment…"

Orihime suddenly found that she couldn't move. She didn't understand what was happening. Too much had already occurred and she simply couldn't keep up with it all.

"You were never in any danger," he assured as his thumb ran soothing circles over the back of her hand. "However, I suppose I just couldn't resist," he mused to himself quietly, apparently uncaring if she was registering his words or not. "Patros always had been rather ambitious in the worst of ways."

"Patros?" Grimmjow said loudly from behind them. "Just what the fuck is going on here?"

Reaching his chair, Aizen casually reclaimed his seat. Crossing his leg and resting his chin atop his knuckles, he gently tugged on Orihime's hand and guided her to stand beside him. Not quite in her right mind to resist, she blindly followed.

"Quite an elaborate scheme you cooked up, Captain Aizen," Gin's unmistakable and unexpected voice interjected the delicate atmosphere, pulling the attention of the room's few occupants towards the doorway. Standing just over the threshold with his usual smile of enigmatic pleasure, Gin appeared to have slipped in completely unnoticed. Even with the large balcony behind them exposing the area to the twinkle of the dome's fake stars and soft breeze, Orihime felt numb to the way it played with her hair as she stared emptily at the floor. "It seems just a little too ostentatious, even for you." His smile widened as he turned to glance back into the hallway. "Wouldn't you agree…Ulquiorra?"

Orihime's entire body seized.

That haunting sound of quiet, measured footsteps growing ever closer from the corridor outside sent a decidedly unbearable wave of apprehension to her gut. It knotted there and caught in her throat as she forced her eyes up from her feet.

"What the hell?" Grimmjow gasped. His arms quickly uncrossed and grew tense at his sides. His eyes were wide and his complexion actually paled for a brief instant.

"Gin…Ulquiorra…so glad you could finally join us," Aizen said.

Orihime felt herself becoming incredibly dizzy as she stared at the sight before her. Stepping oh so casually into the room as if it were just any other occasion, a very real and very alive looking Ulquiorra came to stand naught but a few feet away from Gin.

"Lord Aizen." At the sound of Ulquiorra's voice Orihime's nerves shattered. "I followed Patros as you instructed. He and his subordinates have already engaged Shinigami in the world of the living and are on their way to Kisuke Urahara's as we speak. Do you wish for me to intercept?"

Aizen adjusted his hand under his chin. "That won't be necessary, Ulquiorra. It would be rather wasteful to further expend our efforts pursuing them."

Oh, God…

Orihime quickly pressed a hand to her head. So many emotions and thoughts were running through her mind and she simply couldn't handle it. What was happening? Ulquiorra was dead. She had seen it. She'd held his dead body in her arms and cried over him. Now…she'd been played like a fool, used in their game. What's worse, she could have been spared the turmoil. She hadn't been a necessary pawn in whatever scheme had been cooked up between them and Patros.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Grimmjow sighed in aggravation. "A rouse? Goddamnit, I thought you were dead!"

Ulquiorra said nothing as he met Grimmjow's glare with cold indifference.

"I should have known better than to get my hopes up," Grimmjow spat towards him. "It would have been better if you'd stayed dead."

"Yes, well, as you can see, Cuatro-san here is very much alive." Gin's grinning voice was both a knife in her heart and an unforeseen savior. "That is…thanks to Captain's Zanpakuto. It was nothing more than an illusion."

Everything was suddenly spinning around her harder and Orihime didn't think she could keep up with it. Her breaths were coming faster and shorter and her vision wasn't just swimming, it was utterly reeling. It almost hurt to look at him, but she couldn't tear her eyes away.

This was really too cruel…

Out of everything he'd done to her, this topped it all.

"My dear, you don't look so well," Aizen said. Perhaps were it any other occasion, Orihime would have been upset by the feel of his hand holding hers. But now it was like a steady rock grounding her to the moment and she gripped it tighter. It was a meager support and did little to shelter her from the painful onslaught of emotions plowing through her.

She felt sick.

She was afraid she was actually going to throw up.

With a sigh, Aizen gracefully stood from his chair. "Ulquiorra, perhaps you should take her back to her room," he suggested, sounding a bit exasperated.

"The poor thing," Gin chuckled as Ulquiorra stepped forward. "She's in shock."

"Yes," Aizen agreed when she still didn't move. "Perhaps it was unwise to include her in all of this." Guiding her gently by the hand, he lifted her arm to hand her off to her warden, urging her towards him. It was no secret amongst his army of her affections for his cold soldier. After all, the girl was so terrible at hiding it. He'd even went out of his way to discourage it in the arena. So when she continued to stand in a blind stupor, unwelcoming of her warden's presence, even Grimmjow could tell something was off in her.

As Ulquiorra stood before her, looking normal and alive and unaffected by any of this, Orihime wondered if he was even real. His eyes were on Aizen and his lips were moving and it took her a second to realize he was saying something, but she couldn't hear.

Even beyond all the hurt inside of her, Orihime felt tears welling in her eyes as she began to pray that he wasn't an illusion. Desperately wanting validation, she hesitantly lifted her hand from her side, keeping her other atop Aizen's palm for support.

She might have said his name, because he was suddenly looking at her like he did when she called to him, like he was expecting her to say something. His eyes were so green and for a moment it truly seemed like he was the only person in the world. Looking into those eyes that she thought she'd never see again, Orihime felt relief like she never had before.

There was a faint tremor in her hand as her fingertips lightly grazed his cheek. She smiled warmly then, knowing he was real. Beside them, Aizen watched with hardened eyes as his ward so openly regarded his soldier with such…fondness. Likewise, it did not escape his notice the subtle way Ulquiorra was equally sucked in by her, allowing her the touch; an act he knew any other creature would have lost their hand over. All brazenly right under his nose. By the time her fingertips reached his jaw, her lips parted as she released a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.

Then, like it was finally all just too much, she fainted.

Quickly stepping closer, Grimmjow and Gin stared down at the unconscious girl hanging limp in Aizen's arms.

"Oh, my…" Gin drawled, his icy blue eyes peeking open just a tad.

Blinking down at her, Grimmjow examined her pale features before turning to Ulquiorra. "Way to go, asshole."

Ulquiorra glanced over at him and narrowed his eyes in a scowl.

There was a long moment of silence that stretched between the four men as they all continued to gaze down at her.

"I've never seen anyone faint from shock…" Gin said curiously. "Do you think she'll be alright?"

Grimmjow shrugged and leaned closer. "Why wouldn't she be? She's breathing, ain't she?"

It was clear the shock had overwhelmed her, but Aizen had known she'd also expended nearly all of her reiatsu in the time after Ulquiorra's supposed 'death' in an effort to revive him. The shock had merely pushed her over the edge.

With a sigh, Aizen shifted her more fully into his arms. "Ulquiorra…" The one-word order, along with the peeved tightness in his voice, hinted to his waning patience.

As Aizen moved to carefully hand her into Ulquiorra's waiting arms, Grimmjow's hand impulsively shot out and stopped him. His clawed fingers dug into the Espada's bicep hard and Ulquiorra paused as the tapered points of Grimmjow's unnaturally sharp nails bore down into his flesh.

Unflinchingly Ulquiorra turned his eyes to face him.

"Patros may not have it in him to take you down, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow whispered darkly. "But that doesn't mean I don't." Their eyes met for a tense and lingering moment. "I will kill you," he informed bluntly.

"Grimmjow." Having forgotten there were others present, Aizen's voice instantly broke Grimmjow's stare. "That's quite enough."

Just to make a point, he roughly yanked his hand away from Ulquiorra's arm and made a show of storming out of the room.

"Well, he certainly seems to be in quite the mood," Gin commented as he watched him go.

"Ulquiorra, take Orihime to the infirmary," Aizen ordered. His tone suggested there would be no arguing. "I presume you will take care of what we discussed earlier?" he added once she was handed over.

"Yes," Ulquiorra answered without question, holding the girl carefully against his chest. "I will leave tonight, if that is what you wish."

With an absentminded nod and a dismissive wave of his hand, Aizen agreed and made his way back to his chair. Picking up his papers, he tried to resume his reading.

"You know," Gin began once the room was finally clear. "It probably would have been a lot easier just to take care of Patros and the others directly. Even if they did collaborate and were obviously up to no good, making them believe that they had killed Ulquiorra and letting them take the Hogyoku…there was no need to do this in such a roundabout way. You should have just had Ulquiorra kill them immediately. What were you thinking?"

"Don't worry about Ulquiorra. I have something else I need him to do." Aizen reached his hand over to the small table beside his chair to retrieve his tea, only to find none there. Holding back his frown, he dropped his papers to his lap and propped his temple upon his fingers as Gin stepped closer.

"If you prefer, I would be happy to kill them for you if you just give the word," Gin said matter-of-factly.

"Thanks for the offer, but that would be boring."

"Oh?" Gin drawled quietly.

"Now that they're out of the way, I can concentrate on more important things. Even if Patros acted sooner than anticipated, it all works out for the better," he explained, silently wondering if he should call for a servant to prepare him some more tea. Although, it seemed if he wanted anything done these days, he had to do it himself.

"In what way?"

"I'd rather not waste anymore time and resources on them than necessary. They're hardly worth it." His eyes closed and he held back another sigh. "However, I suspect Soul Society is up to something in the living world that could interfere with forging the Oken. With Ulquiorra going there tonight anyways to investigate, he can take care of the problem if it hasn't already taken care of itself…"

"I suppose that does make a bit more sense." Gin strode a fraction closer to the balcony. Off in the distance, the beginning glimmers of the sun were smearing the sky in a dull gray. "Is it really a good idea, though?" He glanced down at the ex-Reaper skeptically. "You saw how our precious little flower just fainted like that when she saw him. The poor thing. She'll be upset if you send him away so soon." Leaning his hip back onto the solid edge of Aizen's desk, Gin muddled through several papers without any real interest. When he heard no response he lifted his head. "Captain? Something troubling you?"

Aizen remained silent, quietly ruminating with a dark look in his eyes. Catching on to his thoughts, Gin grinned widely.

"You know, she's the only thing keeping the Commander from knocking down the palace doors…" he intoned slyly, his smile growing as he watched Aizen's shoulders tense slightly. "But, you already know that, of course."

"Is there something you want to say, Gin?"

Gin chuckled as he caught the unmistakable warning in Aizen's sharp eyes.

"Not particularly," he answered, totally blasé. Returning his attention back to the many papers and paraphernalia atop the desk, Gin flicked away a pen that had started leaking its ink. "Still, you really should have known better than to give Ulquiorra custody of something so precious. And before you say anything, you know exactly what I mean," he added sharply. "He may be the only Espada worth trusting with important matters, and perhaps the only one who wouldn't have ruined the girl on her first day in Las Noches, but even you know that isn't likely to last much longer. Ulquiorra isn't exactly…how should I say…benevolent. He's the last person you should want to leave her with. There won't be anything left of the child if he ends up losing his patience. And then what will you have left to keep the Commander at bay?"

"I would say that is a little dramatic…" Aizen said with an edge of annoyance. "And presumptuous of you to assume that is her only purpose here." Turning his head slightly, his gaze fell flat as he stared out past the open doorway of his quarters. "Or are you just worried about her?" Keeping his chin in his hand, his eyes slid to the corners of their sockets to gauge Gin with a subtle but dangerous quality shining in their shrewd and calculating depths. "Ulquiorra is like a machine: soulless, empty, and utterly without morality. As with all machines, he cannot perform a task unless given a command. He's quite incapable of caring enough to devote the time to such spectacular schemes. If he wanted her dead, he would simply kill her."

"I don't think killing her is what he wants to do to her…" Gin muttered. "Just how do you think that's going to turn out?" he asked, fully aware Aizen knew he was referring to more than Ulquiorra's direct orders not to harm her.

"Likely, he will devastate her from the inside out."

"Isn't that just as bad?"

"I said Ulquiorra is like a machine…I didn't say he was one." Aizen chuckled. "After all, it is in a Hollow's nature to destroy. As long as she is physically unharmed, it really doesn't matter too much."

Gin clicked his tongue. "My, my…that level of emotional manipulation would just render that Kurosaki boy senseless to witness," he sighed with false pity. "Or could it be, that's exactly what you're expecting, Captain?"

Drawing up his hand, Aizen examined his nails with a measure of indifference. "That would be convenient, wouldn't it?" he mused aloud, as if the thought had never occurred to him before. "However, I must admit a level of concern. I would hate to see anything happen to our dear Orihime unnecessarily." Rather, before he'd properly used her to fulfill her true purpose, and before he'd prepared the Hogyoku for his war with Soul Society.

"Then take her away from him." Gin smirked.

Aizen paused.

"Gin…you must be getting very attached to the girl." One corner of his lip tilted mockingly. "Does she matter to you?"

There was a bitter frown that wanted to stretch across Gin's face, but his grin did very well in hiding the sharp flicker of resentment. "But of course," he said and folded his arms over his chest. "It would be a real shame for all our efforts to go to waste were she to expire before she could fulfill her purpose. Seems like it would have been a lot of work for nothing."

"I see," Aizen's eyes dropped back to the papers in his lap, but they hadn't missed a thing; not the tightness around Gin's eyes, not the distance in his voice, and not the clench of his fist hidden behind his sleeve. "That it would be."

They both knew he was lying.

Then again, it was just like Gin to answer with a twisted truth.

---

Orihime's cheeks were stained from all her tears when she awoke. There was no noise around her and it was dark. Despite the lack of light, she could already tell she wasn't in her room.

Leaning onto her palm, she pushed herself up and rested her weight on her hip as she examined the unfamiliar bed she was lying in. Numerous cots lined both sides of the long hall, covered in white linen and vacant of any occupants. The tall vaulted ceiling, sterile white walls, and heavy scent of disinfectant tipped her off to her location.

The infirmary was little more than an elongated corridor with small beds evenly spaced along the length of the hall, leaving a narrow path in the center of the floor that led to either end of the room. Little tables sat beside each bed, holding what appeared to be water basins and a few various other basic medical supplies. At one end of the room was the arched entrance, while at the other sat a pair of closed glass doors leading to what appeared to be an operating room for more serious procedures.

The place seemed to be empty save for her. It was quiet and shadows hung in a thick blanket throughout the room.

Her fingers tightened around the bed sheets under her. Lowering her head, Orihime felt her throat constrict uncomfortably.

She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't!

Not again. It wasn't worth it.

Orihime froze at the soft patter of footsteps that came echoing out from the darkness to her right. Her head snapped up and she stared with wide eyes as the pale figure of her warden appeared in the archway. Halting just over the threshold, he stared right back at her.

She started feeling dizzy all over again and her heart rate quickly began to spiral out of control. It almost seemed unreal. She had watched him die, yet he was right there, completely unharmed and looking as if nothing had happened at all.

It felt as if she were staring at a ghost.

"You are awake," he noted as his eyes scanned over her, always making sure everything was in proper working order. His voice, however, quickly brought her back to reality and Orihime's eyes narrowed with a harshness she'd never felt before in her life. "Your reiatsu was dangerously low. Aizen ordered you to be brought here."

Suddenly, Orihime was on her feet and briskly striding towards him. Her fists were clenched at her sides and her pace hastened with each passing step. She didn't even try to calm herself down. She didn't want to be calm. Everything was shaking; her hands, her legs, her shoulders, all of her.

He just stood there, watching her as she grew closer, blinding her to all else but him.

Unable to hold herself back, she hurried forward on her last couple strides. Raising her hand, she didn't just flatten her palm, she curled her fingers and exposed her nails and with one swift blow, slapped him hard across the cheek. However, her nails only scraped over his infuriatingly impervious skin, unable to make a dent. She really hoped he had felt at least some kind of pain, even if she hadn't left a single scratch.

The concise smack echoed in the quiet room and was quickly cut off by her voice before it even had the chance to die out.

"You jerk!" she cried, anger flashing in her eyes. "How could you?!"

His head was still slightly tilted from the force of her attack as he watched her outburst. When she felt wetness leaking from her eyes, she realized she'd already given in and begun crying again, completely against her will. But they were not tears of fear, pain, or heartbreak. They were tears of pure rage.

He'd taken her purity, something she gave him freely and he'd merely left her like it hadn't meant a thing. And then pushed the boundaries further by using her in their schemes.

With a level of desperation she hated showing him, Orihime threw her arms around him and buried her face into his chest. "You're so cruel," she whispered shakily. "I thought you were dead."

"Clearly I am not," he said, hands unmoved from his sides. "Does it displease you that I am alive?"

"No." Orihime could only grit her teeth at his idiotic response, her fingers holding tight to his back like an anchor.

"Woman, you are overreacting," he said plainly. "If anything, you should be disappointed by such a revelation. You would benefit more from my death than not."

"I'd never want that," she uttered deeply. "Ulquiorra…I…" She squeezed her eyes shut, tears brimming on her lashes. She had prayed for this chance when he was lying dead in her arms. She had yearned for such an opportunity to see him again, to tell him how she felt. But now that he was there…she couldn't say it. "I'm just so happy, that's all." Orihime sighed, relishing the feel of his coldness against her face. "I'm so happy you're really alive."

"Nonsense," he said. "Do not dramatize it, woman. Now release me." He pressed his hand to her shoulder to gently pry her away.

"Dramatize?" Orihime parroted in disbelief. Her eyes narrowed in anger once again. She took a sharp step back and jerked her shoulder away from his hand like she couldn't stand the thought of him touching her. "You took something from me, then left without explanation. After what Patros did, I thought you were dead!"

"As was the point…" he returned dryly, unimpressed by her hysterics.

Hurt beyond words, Orihime raised her hand again to slap him. However, the momentum of her strike was abruptly stopped just inches from his cheek.

Cold green eyes stared into her as his fingers closed softly around her wrist, completely encompassing the delicate bone. "Forgive me," she whispered mockingly. "Don't let my tears bore you." She met his stare with equal fervor, looking straight into the void. She wanted him to see it all; the hurt, the tears, every little pain filled emotion.

But it seemed the longer she stared, the more she was forced to face the reality that the reflection of her own self gazing back at her was the only thing returning any emotion.

She couldn't bear it.

Orihime tensed her arm up, trying to pull away from his hold. When he didn't let go, a chilling whisper of panic began to swell within her. Unable to take the weight of his gaze, she turned away and searched the room for anything to look at but him. She couldn't take it. Squirming slightly, she reached up and dug the fingers of her free hand into his forearm. She tried to free herself, to get away. But his other hand came up and grabbed her other wrist, forcing her to face him. His eyes pierced through every last defense she had, peeling away her flesh and exposing all the bright, raw redness of her soul.

There was no hiding in that moment.

She felt laid bare.

She watched in vulnerable, wide-eyed heartbreak as his eyes scanned every flicker of emotion to pass over her face; the fear, the relief, the pain, and desire…the sheer longing for connection. And also the flickers of pity at the hint of frustrated confusion in his at seeing all these things and not understanding them.

She could see in that instant, the searching.

What a shame he didn't see it himself.

Her heart lurched in reply, her lips parting on his name.

Orihime cried out as her back suddenly met with the mattress of one of the small medical cots. Quickly pushing herself up, she shifted away from him and cautiously began scooting backwards as she watched his fingers reach up and close around the zipper of his jacket. Her eyes followed the slow, silent journey of his hand as it drew downwards, past his chest, his waist…lower and lower until the pale white fabric fell open.

Her lips parted of their own volition when he shrugged the jacket from his shoulders with such smooth ease that she couldn't help but drop her gaze to his chest. The lithe muscles in his arms seemed to flow with the movement, fluid and controlled. Carelessly, he dropped the fabric to the floor, leaving the ashen complexion of his bare torso exposed to the dark shadows of the room.

A dusting of pink blossomed on her cheeks when she realized she had never seen his body like that but for one time before, and even then she'd been too shy to look. However, her curious and hungry eyes soon widened in alarm when he approached the foot of the bed.

She quickly turned away, her fingers clawing at the bed as she tried to crawl to the other side. She gasped when she felt his icy fingers close around her ankle and drag her back down to the end of the bed. His hands pried open her thighs, spreading her wide as he settled himself between them. Orihime gasped hard when he suddenly fisted the thick layers of her skirts in his hands and effortlessly tore through them with a single, swift yank - every rigid, solidly contoured muscle in his chest and arms softly rippling from the strain.

Orihime's blush instantly inflamed as she tried to snap her legs shut, only to be met with the firmness of his narrow waist between her thighs.

"U-Ulquiorra?" she breathed shakily, her palms lightly pushing on his chest as he leaned over her.

Whatever twisted point he thought he was going to make this time, she wasn't ready for it.

"It's rather curious…" he began evenly, dark hair framing his face as he drew close. "You act as if I have done you a great injustice, as if I have wounded your so-called heart…" He completely covered her, trapping her with his domineering presence. "Were you not the one who once said I would never have the power to crush it?" His lips grazed her neck with a smooth but demanding pressure as he spoke. When her hands began pushing at him more insistently he grabbed her wrists and, instead of pinning them above her head, forced them behind her lower back. "Perhaps I should take something that would truly warrant your anger."

Hands trapped between her spine and the mattress, the extreme position conveniently pushed her breasts up into the small space between them. "Tell me, woman…would this break your heart?" His hips rolled into hers hard, tearing a throaty gasp from her lungs. "What would it take?" His weight pushed her into the bed, trapping her beneath him as he ground against her. The heels of her boots dug into the sheets, trying to resist the urge to wrap her legs around him as he whispered into her ear. "Answer me." His eyes narrowed and his hips continued moving like something sinful and wicked against hers, corruptive yet enticing. "Did it hurt to watch me die? Did you cry? Did it break your heart? Tell me how much it hurt."

Keeping a hand locked around her wrists, his touch began exploring the curves of her body. When his member pressed fully against her clit, Orihime lost the battle to resist and began moving in tandem with every languid motion. It was hard to stop, to even want to push him away and keep fighting him and the sensations he brought to life inside her. Even the feel of his Zanpakuto prying uncomfortably into her inner thigh couldn't douse the fire he was stoking in her.

Slipping under that small space between the bottom of her jacket and the top of her dress, Ulquiorra curled a finger over the hem of her uniform and slowly pulled the fabric down her chest. She shuddered as he dragged the material lower, deliberately letting it catch on her nipples until it bunched under her large breasts.

"You speak of these things so easily…yet I don't believe you truly consider your words." He pushed into her harder when he felt the warmth of her wetness through his pants. In contrast, his soft, openmouthed kisses followed the arch of her neck, leaving cool trails behind.

"Please let go of me," she whispered quietly. As much as she wanted this with him, she just couldn't bring herself to accept it now. Not after what he'd done, not after she'd witnessed him die in her arms and he didn't seem to understand how much she had suffered. Instead, he was rubbing salt into the wound. She didn't want him to know how badly she desired to throw her arms around him and tell him she cared for him more deeply than even she understood. Quite honestly, she didn't believe he deserved it. However, he never missed a thing. He could read the enthusiastic responses of her body like an open book. Trying to hide and suppress it was futile. "Please," she uttered shakily and moaned when he gently bit down on her ear, causing the little nick of his teeth to send an electric shock up her spine. "Please, don't…!"

Leaning on his forearm above her, he moved to press his lips to hers and Orihime - for the first time in her life - forced herself to smother her emotions. When his lips grazed hers, she quickly jerked away and turned her head to the side.

Ulquiorra paused.

However, like always, he knew exactly how to get under her skin. He would never let her win.

Undeterred, his lips gently brushed over every fresh little gash on her cheek that Grimmjow's unforgiving grip had left behind.

"Five lifetimes," he uttered against the delicate flesh, making Orihime horribly and suddenly tense. "Such an arrogant claim for a mere mortal." His mouth continued its path downwards, uninterrupted; her jaw, her neck, her collar. "All the things you would do for him, the sacrifices you have made…you'd rip your own heart out from your chest and serve it on a silver platter for the boy, would you not?" Reaching down between them, she felt him shift slightly as he locked gazes with her. From under his thick lashes, it felt as if all she could see was an ocean of green.

"Oh god…Ulquiorra!" A cry lodged in Orihime's throat when the length of his member slid directly against her, flesh on flesh. Gathering moisture with each stroke, it glided between her slick folds perfectly, creating a friction that was so wickedly divine it took her breath away. Her head dropped back onto the pillow and she couldn't help but to gasp as the hand wrapped around her wrists pressed further into her lower back, forcing her closer as he rolled their hips together. She panted and writhed under him, clenching her eyes shut to escape the intensity of his gaze.

With his pants gradually sinking lower and messier on his hips, so too did his sword fall along with them, drifting down until she didn't even notice its presence anymore. Rather, the only thing her mind could register was his member was somehow growing even harder against her.

His lips crept lower. His mouth grew more insistent and his teeth left behind sharp, shallow cuts as he drew closer to that thumping muscle in her chest. "Do you think he would mind," he breathed the words between kisses, his voice muffled against her skin. "If I devoured it straight from your chest?" Stroking himself once, Ulquiorra pressed the head of his length against the dripping core of her sex. Orihime's back arched as that burning fire abruptly rushed between her legs, threatening to spill over and consume her whole. The pressure was thick and new, and intoxicatingly intimidating. For a moment, she feared she would be swallowed by the moment and left as nothing but a pile of cinders. His hand shifted her thigh higher as he slowly began rocking, trying to gain entry while prodding her small opening with the smooth head of his engorged masculinity.

A long, strained whine quivered in the back of Orihime's throat as she felt his size, unable to breach her tightness.

"What would you do…" He kissed her neck. "If I sunk my fingers into your chest…" Her sternum. "Pried you open…" The tip of his tongue traced the outline of her heart, near salivating at the temptation. "And sunk my teeth…" Below his touch, it was racing out of control. "Into your beating heart." His lips pulled back ever so slightly, partially exposing a few sharp points ready to violate her flesh. Simultaneously, his nails dug into her thigh and he bore down into her hard. Orihime sucked in a sharp breath as the head of his dick began to inch inside her, bringing with it such a blinding contortion of pleasure and pain that her back bowed clear off the bed. She brought her knees up, bracing her heels into the wrinkled sheets and spreading her legs wider as she struggled to accept the tight pressure.

His movements became gradually stronger, endeavoring to go deeper. Just above her heart, she felt her skin begin to yield under his teeth.

"No!" she cried out just as he was about to bite into her.

Ulquiorra instantly stilled.

"No," she barely uttered between her panting breaths. "Y-you're wrong." Her voice was nothing but a faint whisper as she tried to gather her wits and her courage. His fingers were still tightly bound around her wrists, his palm still cupped around her hip, and she abruptly realized his eyes were still locked onto that one spot on her chest where her heart was beating, as if he were starved for it. "I…I would give my heart to you," she said shakily. Coiling her legs up his sides, Orihime clenched her eyes shut and tried to curl in on herself as she tried to get the words out. "If…if I knew you would take it!"

Ulquiorra tensed on top of her as he met her gaze. Looking straight into her, his eyes slowly widened into an utterly foreign look that she'd never seen on him before. A quiet noise caught in the back of his throat and she felt as his hand began to lose its grip around her wrists.

His breathing was steady and calm as he stared down into her watery eyes, but Orihime sensed something was off. He didn't bother to stop her as she slipped a hand out from beneath her back and hesitantly reached for his cheek.

Ulquiorra remained unmoving, like a machine trying to solve an equation it was unfamiliar with. Her words had provoked an aversion inside of him. It was small and miniscule and perhaps something that would have gone unnoticed were it any other person. But Ulquiorra wasn't any other person. He was an empty being, void of anything but the stagnant air that filled his lungs.

To him, that tiny little drop of something felt like an entire ocean being shoved down his throat and packed into every corner and crevice of his body.

And it was repulsive.

It was alien and totally, utterly disgusting. His body rebelled against it, causing the muscles in his arms and chest to quiver in quiet dissent, like a bad reaction.

This human woman, whom he'd kidnapped, tricked, betrayed and was now ruining against her will…was still so damned kind.

The very essence of his nihilistic core rejected it in every possible way, unable to process what he literally could not feel - what he was never meant to feel.

Was this the power of her heart? To render him completely helpless with a few quietly whispered words?

Regardless of the massive difference in their strength, she owned something he did not; something he never would. In that moment, with her defenseless under him, forced into submission and with the head of him invading the very core of her, he was suddenly the powerless one.

Orihime's brow knitted a fraction when he still didn't move. His breath hitched once, pulling him back to reality when she settled her palm more fully against his cheek in concern.

His eyes seemed to jerk back into focus.

The woman was lying flushed and a mess, lips parted in worry. Her dress was pulled down, exposing her breasts. Eyes like the color of the richest earth shone up at him with things he didn't recognize. He couldn't recall anyone ever looking at him like that before, in anything that wasn't unadulterated fear and respect.

He could hardly stand to see it.

Gasping at the ache, Orihime rolled her head to the side and lifted her hips as he suddenly reached between them and pulled himself from her as quickly as possible without hurting her. He hadn't gotten far, so it was a short journey. She had little time to recover as he grabbed her arm and pulled her out from beneath him, nearly tossing her off the bed. Her legs wobbled as she quickly floundered away from him and caught herself against the mattress of the next cot over.

Shirtless and leaning back on his knees, Orihime didn't have the courage to lower her eyes to where he still had yet to amend the state of his pants. But, worst of all, he still wouldn't look at her.

"Go back to your room," he ordered flatly, completely unabashed in his disheveled and exposed position. "This shouldn't have happened."

Orihime stood beside the bed, staring at him and clutching at her torn skirts to hide her modesty. She wished she could just say the words at that moment, to make him see. Maybe it would make it easier for him to understand. But it was so hard to find the nerve, let alone the will. She was sickened over what he and Aizen had done. He'd deceived her, tricked her, hurt her and all for some pointless scheme. She hadn't even been prepared to say the words she already had, but he'd forced them out of her.

She could see now she'd been going about things all the wrong way.

She'd make him understand if it was the last thing she ever did. Though Orihime would never impose her personal views on anybody, that didn't mean he didn't need a proper lesson in human compassion, love, and general emotions crammed right down his gullet until he finally got the point. He didn't need to become it, she just wished he'd understand it.

She could see that he wanted to understand it too, even if he'd never admit it.

Ulquiorra only spoke one language. If she wanted to get through to him, she'd have to learn to speak it.

When Orihime only remained in place after his command, his head slowly turned to glare at her over his shoulder.

Orihime flinched back at the coldness of his green eyes glowering out at her from behind the fringe of his obsidian hair.

"I said," he began with a dangerous softness. "Go to your room."

Orihime met his stare with a determined one of her own, bravely holding back her tears before she suddenly turned and ran away, her hair swirling in a fiery flourish behind her. She gathered the front of her torn skirts and clumsily tried to readjust her uniform to cover her breasts as her feet hurried to put some much needed distance between them.

Her words hadn't been a direct admission, but they might as well have been. There was little difference than if she had ripped her own heart out like he'd said and served it on a platter. Only, this time, it was Ulquiorra she had offered it to, not Ichigo Kurosaki.

She'd been too afraid to say anything more. It wasn't at all how she had imagined it when she'd had him cradled in her arms, crying over him and putting every ounce of her energy into a fruitless effort to revive him. She thought she would have given anything to have the chance to reach out to him, just one last chance. Now that she had it, it wasn't at all like what she wanted.

For once, she'd been smart enough not to put herself completely out there, even if it did still sting in the end. She'd learned that well enough from past experience. But, in a way, she did feel more powerful asserting herself. Her heart would not be taken lightly. She wouldn't allow it. It was a good feeling having that kind of control; to confidently face him and put her foot down, and to let him know she wasn't just some weak human that didn't know how to stand up for herself.

Orihime was panting by the time she reached the passageway that led to the inner dome. Resting her arms on one of the many large pillars lining the corridor, she leaned into the cool marble as she tried to catch her breath. Off in the distance, there was a gentle glow peeking over the horizon. Daylight was edging closer, painting the faraway sky in a light gray that faded out into the darkness still hanging over the majority of the arched ceiling.

Her fingers clenched into her palms, unintentionally scraping her knuckles against the cold stone with the action.

If he thought she was weak, he was wrong.

Her heart was not weak.

It was strong and resilient and, for some reason, it loved him.

As per usual at that time of day, Orihime could feel the whisper of a breeze beginning to grow, always accompanying the emerging brightness in the distance.

The sun wasn't quite there yet, but it would soon come.

---

Ulquiorra stared at the colossal column before him. It was the fourth and final one he'd found after spending the entire day tracking the strange reishi patterns radiating from around the furthest outskirts of the town.

Sliding his eyelids closed, he reached out and flattened his palm against the solid pillar. Around him, the air of the living world's cool dark night was filled with the peaceful lullaby of crickets and various insects, so very different from the eerie cries of dying Hollows and lapses of stark, dead silence in Hueco Mundo. He focused his concentration into the structure, feeling the faint but distinct pull of something that vaguely resembled the energy of the Senkaimon.

Indeed, Soul Society was plotting something…likely with the help of the only man residing in the mortal realm capable of such a massive construction. From the looks of it, they had been working on the pillars for some time now. They probably would have started not much longer after he had taken the woman. Such an edifice simply could not be erected overnight.

He had a brief thought to destroy the structures. However, Ulquiorra knew very well how Aizen preferred to do things. He would undoubtedly disapprove.

Just as he pulled his hand away, the blur of several shadowy figures appeared behind him. The gentle incline the pillar was built upon was scattered with large rocks and outlined by trees of various sizes - as such, the new arrivals had made quite an un-stealthy clatter disturbing much of the gravel in the area. Without even turning, Ulquiorra could already feel the unmistakable vibes of their reiatsu. They absolutely reeked of Shinigami.

"Identify yourself, Hollow!" the commanding voice of the nearest man called out. "This is a restricted area. You're not allowed here."

Lowering his hand back to his side, Ulquiorra shifted enough to get a good look at the small group.

Trash.

All of them.

Put off by his silence, their squad leader stepped closer. "State your business!" he demanded again. At his hip, his hand rested upon the hilt of his sword. "Did you come here to fight us?"

Ulquiorra stared at them blankly. He briefly wondered if he should kill them. He was feeling abnormally high-strung today and a fight sounded unusually appealing.

"I have no intention of fighting any of you," he finally said.

A little taken aback by his answer, several of the men looked at one another in question. "I…I'll only ask you one last time, Arrancar!" their leader said, sounding decidedly more nervous and uncertain. "What are you doing here? I highly doubt you just happened to be strolling by. What do you want?"

Ulquiorra began walking away, not even deigning to answer them. He had the information he needed, they weren't worth the time. Unquestionably, the pillars were something of importance to the Soul Society. This theory was only driven home by the fact they seemed to have stationed guards around them.

He'd only gotten a few steps away when he felt the subtle spike of reiatsu behind him. A few of the Shinigami had launched themselves towards his back. Ignoring their underhanded tactics, Ulquiorra disappeared from sight the moment their swords swiped at him, only to reappear behind their small group.

Not in the mood to deal with the usual histrionics of such encounters, Ulquiorra wasted no time in slaughtering them. His hand tore through several necks, efficiently beheading them, and his fingers pried out the hearts of several others. As another body dropped at his feet, he carelessly tossed the warm, still beating heart in his hand off to the side. Decapitation always had been the surest method to dispose of them, however, removing their hearts seemed to do the trick just as well…provided they were left with enough time to bleed out.

Lifting his head slightly, Ulquiorra caught the distinct scent of fear in the air. The hushed sound of weeping drew his attention over to the lone survivor that stood not thirty feet in front of him. The smell of blood overwhelmed the once natural and woodsy aroma of the rural area, mixing together with the stench of terror the Reaper was emitting. He was very still and stared at his comrades with a devastated look upon his face.

He fell to his knees and Ulquiorra raised his hand, not hesitating as the bright green glow of a cero gathered at the end of his finger. The man's eyes met with Ulquiorra's and he had a flickering thought of how weak and pathetic one must be to give up so easily. Then again…perhaps it was not so pathetic for one to know their place in the universe: on their knees without a fighting chance in the world, accepting of their fate.

A quick flash illuminated the trees surrounding the area. Seconds later, there was nothing left of the Shinigami but a singed pair of legs.

Ulquiorra exhaled quietly. After flicking his hand once to expel some of the blood, he pocketed it at his hip. Soon the soft drone of crickets was the only whisper filling the night air once more. Looking up, Ulquiorra stared at the bright moon hanging overhead, so similar and yet so unlike the one above Hueco Mundo.

Yet again, the peaceful quiet was shattered only moments later by the severe shriek of a garganta ripping open a good twenty yards away.

Ulquiorra remained silent as he watched the battered and bruised form of Patros come stumbling out of the gaping blackness. The Arrancar tumbled gracelessly to the ground where he slowly reverted back from his released form.

He failed to detect Ulquiorra's presence, distracted as he was with panting and wheezing and hacking up unreserved amounts of blood.

"Curses!" his voice was raspy and wet, his throat coated in the thick red concoction of his own blood. "Those bastards! I only just managed to escape through a garganta before that damn Shinigami's attack could kill me!" His fist pounded into the ground like a petulant child, ranting and raving.

Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes. Patros must not have had enough energy left in him to open a garganta that would allow him to flee all the way back to Hueco Mundo. Likely, he'd only managed to make it this far.

"I was so close! I had the Hogyoku right in my hands," he lamented. "And now it's gone!"

Striding closer, Ulquiorra's footsteps made little sound as he approached the wounded Arrancar.

"I…I must formulate a new plan in order to get it back!" His eyes took on a wild edge as his mind continued to reel from his apparent loss. It seemed the blithering idiot still hadn't figured out that Aizen had given him a fake.

Coming to a stop directly in front of the kneeling man, Ulquiorra watched as Patros's body froze at the sight of his boots entering into his line of vision. Patros lifted his head and gasped, staring straight up into the eyes of a dead man.

"Ul…Ulquiorra?" he breathed shakily. "H-how? This can't be…"

Ulquiorra merely gazed on as Patros suddenly began scurrying back like a frightened cockroach. It really was quite the bad stroke of fortune for him to retreat to this exact area, and only seconds before Ulquiorra had been prepared to leave.

"You should not have come here…Patros." He calmly stepped forward, following as Patros continued to withdraw further and further away.

"S-stay back! Don't come any closer," he demanded.

"Do you think I will let you get away?" Ulquiorra asked.

"Y-you can't be," his voice began to grow frantic, unable to process what he was seeing and why. "I killed you! I watched you die in that bitch's arms!"

Ulquiorra paused.

"I…I saw it all! She couldn't even revive you!"

The woman had tried to save him?

Ulquiorra hadn't seen what had transpired during Patros's botched coup. He hadn't bothered to care, really. He'd been ordered to follow Patros and his men to the world of the living and confirm their destination before returning straight to Las Noches. The woman had been left under Aizen's watch at the time, likely the safest place she could have been, even while surrounded by a group of dangerous rebels.

No wonder she had fainted. Her reiatsu had been utterly drained from untold amounts of usage trying to revive him.

She had told him she was happy to see him alive. He hadn't believed her. He'd even mocked her for it. He'd nearly…just to get his point across.

He frowned in near disgust. Only the likes of Nnoitra would resort to such a thing. Yet, as was becoming common, even he was reduced to illogical acts of irrationality around that woman.

After all, what human would distress over their abductor, their enemy and, generally speaking, one not even of their own species? She would only stand to benefit from his death. It went against logic for her to make such arbitrary choices.

Perhaps her emotional reaction simply stemmed from selfish reasons. Perhaps she believed she was safest with him, an Espada who was overall less violent and altogether more civilized. It was the only sensible explanation he could conclude.

Noticing Ulquiorra's hesitation, Patros immediately seized on the opportunity.

"That's right," he chuckled, feeling a little more confident as his mind slowly cleared itself of the fog of fear. "You should have seen how she sobbed over you!" Getting to his feet, Patros casually settled his hand over his sword, satisfied to see he had the shorter man's attention. "Even wounded one of my men trying to get to your body." With a smirk, he inconspicuously wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his Zanpakuto. "The haughty little bitch acted like she could protect you…" he trailed off. "I can see now, as impossible as it seems, she must have somehow brought you back to life after we left."

Patros believed he'd talked the Espada off his guard.

"This time, I'll make sure you'll never come back again!"

Lightening fast, he drew his sword from its scabbard, simultaneously charging the attack with an energy blast. His iaidō was unparalleled. Even in his injured state, nobody could dodge it.

Patros choked on a shocked cry when, just as his blade began to exit its sheath, Ulquiorra's cold fingers wrapped around his wrist.

"Wh-what the hell?"

Standing directly before him, so close and so fast, Ulquiorra's sudden appearance and lifeless stare startled him.

Patros quickly shook himself back to reality, allowing anger to now take over his mind.

"You bastard, I will end you!" he shouted in a rage. All of the failure and loss and defeat that he'd suffered throughout the day crashed in on him, contorting his face into something ugly and hateful. "I killed you once before. I can do it aga-!"

Patros's voice was abruptly cut off as Ulquiorra's other hand enclosed over his throat. With a single squeeze and a soft pop, he snapped his neck.

That lonely silence fell over the night again, filled only with the hum of distant, droning insects.

Not sparing a word, Ulquiorra tossed the body aside without a second glance.

With a snap of his fingers a perfectly formed garganta spread open before him.

Aizen had expected him back hours ago and he really hadn't been in the mood to listen to Patros's drivel any longer than necessary. Still…

That woman had cried over him.

---

Orihime's hands trembled slightly as she shook out the wrinkles and creases from the tiny slip she'd dug out of her closet. Immediately she dropped the towel she had wrapped around her body and dragged it over her head. The straps were thin and silky and settled over her shoulders loosely while the rest of it was gossamer and light.

Overall, it was nothing more than a flimsy nightgown. The white fabric hugged every inch of her and stopped just above her mid-thigh, but it covered her well enough to sleep in.

A full day had passed since the incident, leaving her plenty enough time to ruminate on things. Orihime plopped down into the seat in front of her vanity and began brushing out her hair, only to pause halfway through.

Her fingers lingered over the ivory brush as she placed it back atop her vanity and silently gazed at her reflection.

Orihime cocked her head, almost not recognizing herself. The girl staring back at her looked more mature, perhaps even slightly jaded if she looked hard enough. Of course, there were a couple tiny lacerations from Grimmjow's claws on her cheeks and her lips were still rather bruised. Yet…her eyes were darker and her complexion was softly dusted in a pink hued blush. Her bangs were much longer and her hair almost seemed to glow in the moonlight. The curves of her shoulders looked softer and her face appeared more defined and developed, while at once retaining the kernel of sweet innocence and youth.

She didn't look like a girl anymore. She looked like a young woman.

Orihime blinked curiously.

Had she really been changing so much? How had she not noticed before? How long had it been since she'd really looked at herself?

Reaching out, she lightly touched her reflection before she turned away and left it behind.

Deciding instead to go for a walk to clear her mind, she slipped out of her room and began to make her way to a part of the tower she'd never dared to venture before.

She was certain Ulquiorra had a room somewhere in the tower. She had always been able to sense his reiatsu radiating from above her on the rare occasion he actually had the time to rest, but she had no clue where those quarters may be. She only had a general idea. As she wandered deeper, the tall corridors she passed became more and more unfamiliar to her and the halls seemed to grow darker and colder. Her bare feet felt as if she were walking on ice blocks and the spooky tingle that was crawling down the back of her neck wasn't helping.

A shiver ran down her spine and she rubbed her hands down her arms, trying to retain her warmth.

She halted when she eventually passed through a doorway that opened up into a very large, very empty space. There she came across an equally large and equally wide split staircase. Each set hugged the rounded walls, winding up into some unknown territory that was cloaked in shadows. It was quite an impressive ascent and the stairs just kept going on and on, moving past empty floors and chambers. When she finally reached the top she was met with a pair of impossibly large doors. She couldn't help but sigh, momentarily wondering why all the doors around Las Noches seemed to be so gigantic.

Orihime rested her hand over the solid structure.

It was probably his room.

Curiosity enticed her further.

Should she…?

He clearly wasn't inside. She hadn't sensed him since he'd left Hueco Mundo the day before. Bringing her hand back to her chest, she quickly turned away as she lost all of her courage, only to stop herself at the last second.

Spinning back around, Orihime placed both hands against the door and used all her strength to crack it open just enough for her to slip though. As if stepping on alien ground, she crept forward.

The place was dark and quiet, but when she entered several lights overhead unexpectedly flickered to life.

Orihime gasped, afraid that someone else was there until she realized it was nothing more than motion sensors.

Releasing a tense breath, she hesitantly scanned the room, curiously taking in the details…or rather, lack thereof.

His quarters were unreasonably large and excessively sterile. The scent of disinfectant and bleach was nearly as strong there as it had been in the infirmary. There was an uninviting staleness that hung in the air that made the place feel unlived-in, suggesting that it was more often than not void of any occupants. The ceilings were tall and the walls were white and slightly rounded in certain areas. Pillars and a long balcony lined the far wall, yet the area had been closed off with what appeared to be sliding, screened paneling to keep out the storm.

A gratuitously large bed sat off center in the room with only a lone table standing beside it and a sizable shelved headboard that extended past the width of the bed and curved just a bit around its sides. Moving cautiously into the room, Orihime was surprised to see a small nook of a kitchen off to her left. Tucked in the corner of the room, there was little in it but the essentials. Opposite that, a broad archway was cut out of the right wall. Peeking her head around the corner of it, her eyes roved over the deep tub carved into the floor and the large open shower, kept private only by several white curtains that hung from the ceiling and a set of circular glass parapets.

It was all so very…sparse. And barren.

Even her room had nicer things than his…and she was a prisoner.

Orihime took her time exploring the space, only to find absolutely nothing of interest aside from a very meticulously maintained sword cleaning kit.

Sitting on the side of his bed, Orihime noticed a book lying on his bedside table. She picked it up, curious as to what he was reading. However, she soon sighed and tossed it back to its rightful place when she found it was in a completely different language she couldn't even recognize.

Leaning back into the layers of pillows and blankets, her eyes slid closed as she inhaled deeply. A blush spread across her cheeks, realizing it smelt like him; over sanitized detergents and that dark, specific scent that only Hollows seemed to carry. It wasn't a very unique scent, but she found herself drawn to it regardless. Then again, she doubted any human males would ever smell like him.

She needed to go back to her room, but her eyes were already drooping as she curled up into the warmth she found in his bed.

Soon her breathing had evened out and her lashes had slid shut as she drifted off to sleep.

---

"Well?" Aizen drawled expectantly. "How did everything turn out, Ulquiorra?" Standing before him, the pale Espada's uniform was utterly covered in blood that was clearly not of his own veins. "From the looks of things I take it you were able to get me some answers."

"Yes," Ulquiorra replied, unapologetic for his uncharacteristic, unseemly appearance. This was an impromptu meeting after a mission, and as such, he was able to avoid some of the usual formality. He was already overdue for his report as it was, he didn't exactly have the time to make himself more presentable. "I was able to locate four pillars interspersed throughout the area. It would seem as though they have been placed there by Soul Society with the assistance of Kisuke Urahara."

"Oh? And what led you to that conclusion?"

"There were Shinigami guards posted at each site. At the last location I was confronted by several from their ranks. They left me no choice but to dispose of them." Considering things were quite tense between Hueco Mundo and Soul Society, it was only by pure luck that the confrontation occurred on fairly neutral ground. If it had been in the Seireitei, it would have been a different matter.

Aizen smiled. "It's quite alright. It's to be expected, after all."

"Yes," Ulquiorra agreed, his voice soft, monotone and mechanical.

"So what do you think?"

"If Kisuke Urahara is given the opportunity to accomplish their plans, they could represent a direct threat to your goal. There were traces of reishi in each pillar that suggested a somewhat ambiguous link to the Senkaimon. I can only assume their function is to conceal the town and its occupants. If allowed to do so then Soul Society will undoubtedly gain the upper hand and impede the construction of the Oken."

"I see, that really could be a problem," Aizen said, not sounding worried in the least. "Where are they now?"

"There is one positioned at each cardinal point in the town. Shall I destroy them?"

Aizen was silent for a moment. A little absentmindedly, his finger traced the curved outline of his mouth as he thought. "No," he answered. "I don't think that will be necessary. In fact…I think we may even be able to use this to our advantage." Relaxing back in his seat, Aizen smiled again when his soldier remained as silent and unmoving as a statue, completely unquestioning. "We will let them be for now."

"If that is what you wish."

"It is." Aizen dropped his chin onto his upturned palm, observing his soldier's hollow eyes and unusually tense shoulders. "And what of Patros? I trust that situation has been dealt with appropriately?"

"Yes," Ulquiorra said. "He will be of no further nuisance to you."

"Good work, Ulquiorra."

"My pleasure."

---

Ulquiorra stared at the open crack in his door.

The girl was in his room. He could already sense her just beyond the wall. She hadn't been in her quarters when he'd stopped by to check on her. It hadn't been hard to track her down after that.

He continued to stand in silence, contemplating whether it was worth it to try and deal with her at the moment. They were almost always at odds about something and Ulquiorra wasn't sure if he had the patience to deal with it tonight.

He was tired and filthy and, for once, had the chance for some much needed sleep. With her in his room, he doubted he would be getting neither a shower nor rest anytime soon. There were several communal showers located in the dome near the servants' quarters, although a good distance away. Three hours worth of walking, at most.

It was dark when he opened the door and entered, prompting the motion sensor to respond and flicker to life. The sudden light illuminated her small form across the room. He found her lying in his bed, curled up and sleeping soundly. Her long red hair and creamy complexion stood out in shocking clarity to the white sheets. She was the sole source of color in the room, making her seem as if she was out of place and didn't belong.

She'd burrowed deep into the pillows and blankets, half of her body left uncovered with a perfectly shaped leg thrown over the smooth spread. Her face was flushed a soft rosy hue and her titan strands poured over the cushions in an explosion of color. Several wisps obscured her sleeping face and at the corner of her mouth, a lone lock clung to her lips.

Standing at the foot of his bed, his eyes briefly traveled down the length of her body before he turned away. Ulquiorra leaned his sword in its usual place against the wall as he headed for the bathroom. His clothes were heavy with the blood of the Shinigami he'd killed and the still-wet substance clung to his skin as he peeled off his jacket. It landed on the tiled floor with a wet splat and was soon followed by his pants and boots.

He didn't even flinch when the freezing cold water hit his back. It ran down his body, gliding over his muscles and dissolving the smears and streaks of the semi dried blood across his chest. Soon, the red liquid bled down his abdomen in rivulets, melting through the sculpted contours of his torso in thin streams that trailed down his thighs and feet before disappearing into the shiny stainless steel drain.

She cried over him.

Ulquiorra's eyes slid closed as he ran a hand over his scalp, letting his hair grow heavy and soaked with water.

The woman didn't rightly make any sense. He began to wonder if he should stop trying to understand it, as it was clear she would never give up her secrets, no matter how much she tried to enlighten him. It's not like he needed to know her heart in order to use her. He'd never cared about it in the first place, only wanted to dissect it due to a minor curiosity. Now he was left with a woman that had apparently suffered some type of emotional duress over his faked death and even attempted to revive him due to it.

She really should have hated him…

However, if she truly had developed some level of attachment to him, he wouldn't force it away. That would only make things harder. If anything, her fondness would make it less problematic in the end. Though he wasn't going to pretend to understand it, he would exploit it.

Turning off the shower, Ulquiorra wrapped a towel around his hips and threw another around the back of his neck to stop his hair from dripping. He left the soiled uniform behind to be disposed of in the morning and made his way back into the bedroom. Sliding back a door that was built into the wall, Ulquiorra stared into his linen closet, looking for a fresh set of clothes.

Though silent, the mere presence of another person in the room seemed to stir the sleeping occupant residing in his bed.

With a few bleary blinks, Orihime stretched her arms out over her head, feeling her muscles burn delightfully as she stifled a yawn. Her back arched with the movement and she shivered at the distinct pop she felt in her spine. She didn't know how long she had been out, but when she sat up and groggily examined her surroundings she paused at the sight of Ulquiorra standing on the other side of the room with his back to her. Her unfocused stare quickly gained clarity when she noticed the only thing covering him was a towel held precariously together by his fist.

Without warning, he dropped the cloth from his waist, exposing every lithe, masculine inch of his pale back. Pulling the other from his shoulders, he threw it to the floor just outside the closet door he stood in.

At her gasp, Ulquiorra lifted his head and glanced at her over his shoulder.

Orihime's eyes widened in horror, terrified she'd been caught staring. Immediately, she jerked her sights away and nervously began searching for anything to stare at but him. Her vocal chords became totally locked up when she tried to apologize, leaving her with nothing to do but grip the blankets in frustration.

There was a brief moment of silence before Ulquiorra merely turned back to the closet, unperturbed by his nakedness or by the fact that she had seen him. Without any excitement, he drew out a thin pair of loose white slacks from the back shelf.

"What are you doing in this room?"

By the time Orihime dared to lift her eyes again, Ulquiorra was tightening the drawstring of his pants around his narrow hips.

Realizing herself, Orihime quickly slid off his bed and hurriedly ran a hand through her hair, trying to fix what the pillows had messed up. "S-sorry…" She bit her lip, unable to find the words.

"I'll ask again," he said as he approached her. "What are you doing in this room?"

He came to a stop before her and Orihime felt her face heat up. It was so unusual seeing him in anything but his uniform. He was always dressed so modestly that it was difficult not to stare at how low those pants were hanging on his hips. Wringing her hands together fretfully, she pressed them close to her chest and kept her head down until she could find the courage.

"I'm very sorry for coming into your room. I was just out for a walk and…" she admitted with a timid smile. He remained quiet, waiting for her to continue. However, she wasn't quite sure how to conclude that sentence. She was just out for a walk and happened to wander into his room and fall asleep on his bed? It was a poor excuse. "I guess I was just curious," she finished honestly.

Under his direct stare, Orihime was beginning to find it harder and harder to keep her resolve. She also felt her heart begin to beat in a hectic staccato. His eyes dropped to where it thumped in her chest and for a daunting moment she feared he was actually aware of how badly her vitals had just spiraled out of control.

A faint shimmer caught her attention then. Shifting her gaze slightly, she noticed a single drop of water trickle down a strand of his onyx hair. For a moment it hung there, clinging to the end before it suddenly fell away. Thoroughly distracted by the damp locks, her tongue darted out to run across her bottom lip as she reached forward and lightly wove her fingertips through the ends of his wet hair.

"Your hair is getting long." She smiled softly, admiring the way the water enhanced just how sleek and silky it felt. It was only just brushing his shoulders when she'd first been brought to Las Noches. Now, it hung past his neck in glossy layers that tapered down between his shoulder blades.

Her eyes flickered to his before returning back to where her hand gently tugged at his hair. Encouraged that he was permitting her touch, she moved closer and slowly buried her fingers in its midnight depths. She wanted so badly to kiss him. He was so beautiful, handsome and striking in the most unique way.

Orihime quickly curbed the desire. Considering the nature of their quarrel that morning, perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to push him.

"I like it longer," she admitted with a blush. His eyes fell to her lips, still a little bruised and cut from what his teeth had done to her.

"You should go back to your room," he said quietly, because it was the truth. He knew what would happen if she stayed.

"I can't." Their eyes remained locked, her gaze never wilting under his intimidating stare. Orihime swallowed. Why did he suddenly seem so close…and why was she shaking? No doubt her blush had spread clear down to her shoulders. "You should know that I-" His knuckle lightly grazed across her collar bone, sucking the air right out of her. A small shiver ran through her as it gently glided from the delicate bone and teased up her slender neck. It slipped under her jaw and tugged her closer, setting off an explosion of fireworks in her heart.

"You what?" Combined with his unearthly eyes, his hushed voice pulled her in so easily it was almost frightening. As was the way she kept leaning closer and closer.

"Please." Slightly breathless, her eyes pleaded with him. "Ulquiorra…" With one small step forward, his palm slid up the round curve of her hip, causing the glossy material to bunch under his hand.

"Yes?" Trailing around the side of her neck, the backs of his fingers brushed her hair aside. Orihime's lashes fluttered shut, unable to form even a proper thought when his lips began following in the cool wake his fingers left behind.

"I…" Her hands slid up his arms and she nearly sighed at the feel of his bare skin connecting with her own. He kissed her neck once, twice. "I…want…" With a quiet moan Orihime tentatively canted her head, making way for his lips as they etched a slow path to her jaw. His fingers tightened around her hip in response, apparently approving.

Pressing his tongue against her jugular, Ulquiorra buried his other hand in her hair, drawing her close as his mouth parted over her flesh.

Orihime gasped and moved against him in mutual desire, her nerves sizzling at the feel of the slow, openmouthed kisses he imprinted along her bruised cheek and jaw. The hunger and insistency escalated with each kiss, edging closer to her lips with every passing caress. A ragged sigh fluttered from her lungs as the room suddenly began to feel much warmer than it had been only moments prior. Her body was absolutely tingling. It was surging to life with an unyielding heat, a fire that the icy embrace of his hands and mouth seemed to be feeding, rather than dousing. He was stirring more and more sweltering emotions from places inside her she'd never known existed…and she didn't want it to stop. She only wanted more.

She nudged her lips towards his when he reached the corner of her mouth, suddenly wanting his kiss very badly. A short noise of disappointment lodged in the back of her throat when he only navigated around her perfectly bowed lips, teasing her senseless as he worked his way to her other ear.

Her fingers pressed into his shoulders, writhing her burning body tighter against his as their need grew. Soon her hands were feeling and grasping, desperate to memorize the feel of his body. She wanted to experience him so fully it was almost terrifying.

Her touch roamed his chest, timidly running her shaking fingers down the sleek yet solid wall of smooth muscle. It wasn't long until she grew more confident in her exploration, prompting her to search each crevice more thoroughly. His flesh was as soft and pliable as any human's and she relished the way it yielded under her nails. The sinewy muscle underneath, however, was as cold as embossed steel: strong, compact, and impossibly hard…so deceptive of his slender build.

She traced over all the little natural marks on his body. Painstakingly, she mapped out each spot; from the few interspersed freckles on his biceps, chest, and torso, to his tattoo, to the perfectly shaped beauty mark on his right ab. She was strangely pleased to see his skin was not some unvarying solid slate of porcelain. It was firm and smooth and paler in certain places more than others. Places like the insides of his arms and wrists, or where his flesh was stretched so tight over his hip bones that it almost felt like silk - it was in those places she could see the blue network of his veins spread out like a labyrinth beneath his skin, making her want to trace every single one.

Everywhere that she was rounded, gently gliding slopes, he was hardened, rocklike planes. His trim hips were surely made to fit so perfectly between the wide spread of hers that just the thought of it was making her impatient for him.

Guided by his touch, Orihime willingly inclined her head further back. She leaned into his small kisses, sliding her hands up his chest to tenderly cup his face as each lingering nibble that traced along her jaw gradually inched closer and closer back to her awaiting lips.

"Ulquiorra," she breathed softly, her every syllable laced with hunger and need.

Their breaths became intermingled as his lips hovered just centimeters below hers. He lightly nudged her bottom lip, tormenting her with each tantalizingly brief caress. His fingers pressed into the back of her neck and Orihime pushed herself onto her toes as he pulled her up to meet him. Slanting his mouth over hers, he fully claimed her lips in one searing moment. At her hip, the cold of his hand bled through the fabric of her slip as he pressed her close.

Hunger consumed him at the kiss, realizing there were no longer any distractions or hesitation on her part. At that moment, he knew he could finally have her. Nothing was holding him back.

His lips were as surprisingly soft as always and his kiss was smooth and unrelenting, yet brimming with a smoldering hunger that silently burned under its controlled surface. She tugged at his hair and her belly did flips when his tongue lightly traced the corner of her mouth in answer. Pressing a kiss to his upper lip, she sighed when he seized the opportunity and invaded the moist depths she opened to him. Flushed from head to toe, she didn't even notice the ease with which he began backing her up to his bed.

Orihime was blissfully unaware of the backs of her legs brushing his mattress. She was far too distracted by his hands dropping low on her hips to explore and massage the flawless curves under his palms. Roughened from centuries worth of fighting, they still felt amazingly wonderful gliding over her skin through the material of her nightgown. Quite unexpectedly, she released a loud gasp when, as his callused touch slid up the backs of her thighs, he suddenly gripped her backside in both hands. With a hard squeeze, he pressed her hips into his with the action.

Quickly wrapping her arms around his neck, she hooked her knee partially around his leg to welcome him closer.

Control was fast slipping out of her grasp, though she had to wonder if she ever had any in the first place. Her mind was spinning and her heart was racing and his hands were snaking around her waist, nearly encompassing her small ribcage. The taste of him was everywhere in her mouth, filling her senses as his lips suddenly became more aggressive. Without breaking contact, his palm slid over the swell of her breast and gave it a brief but gentle squeeze. Orihime whimpered and arched her back as her vaginal muscles abruptly clenched in response.

That slow, burning ache was intensifying with each stroke and kiss. It was budding into something hotter and stronger under his unfaltering touch. Everything he did breathed new life into her supple body, stimulating and overwhelming her senses with everything that was him.

At her waist, the material of her slip became wrinkled as his hands dipped below its hem and began dragging it up her body. Orihime couldn't help but bury her fingers in his hair and pull him down, demanding he deepen their kiss when she felt his hands on her bare flesh. They were icy and roughened and unhurried as they climbed over her hips, plunged with the dip in her waist and traversed over her breasts on a slow pilgrimage. His lips pulled away from hers and she lifted her arms, shivering at the way his fingertips ghosted her ribs and his palms followed the softness of her shoulder blades as he slid the thin gown over her head.

His mouth was back on her soon afterwards, cool and wet and pressing against her neck. It trailed down her chest, descending between her breasts and lower.

Orihime was quick to wrap her arms around his head when his arm suddenly slipped around her lower back and lifted her against him. His other hand was on her thigh, pulling it around his waist as he lowered her onto the bed. She clung to his hair, wrapping her legs securely around him as she felt the mattress slowly come up to meet her.

Her hair pooled across the colorless fabric, cool and welcoming against her naked body. She held him close and grew a little restless when the pace of the moment began to pick up. Her mouth parted, gasping silently as his knuckle lightly teased over one of her hardened nipples. His thumb soon followed after, bringing the small nub between his fingers for a soft pinch.

Orihime pulled her knees higher up his sides, drawing him in as he slid his hand more fully over her breast. Large and perfectly round, the plump mound filled it completely. Her nipple hardened against his palm at the sight, pulling a small moan from her when the coarse texture of his hand smeared over the delicate bud. Kneading and groping, his fingers explored her as his lips took their sweet time creeping closer to the soft pink of her nipple. Short gasps and fleeting chirps of surprise escaped her at each sharp but painless prick of his teeth, each one leaving behind little love marks and tiny purple bruises. His thumb passed over her nipple one last time before the tip of his tongue leisurely followed suit, torturing her with curt, concise little swipes that slowly grew longer and harder in force.

He blew on the moistened flesh once, and it nearly sent her right out of her skin. Pangs of pleasure bolted straight to her gut and, without conscious thought, her hips began pushing up into his, searching for his hardness. Her body was moving with a mind of its own and everything was so utterly out of her control…

Cradling the swollen flesh in his hand, Ulquiorra gave it a single firm squeeze just as he took her into his mouth.

Orihime cried out, forced to press the back of her hand over her lips just to suppress her fractured moans. The gentle, insistent suckling, the constant kneading and massaging of his fingers…the way his eyes, deep and intense, would occasionally slide up to hers before burying himself back into his exploits; it sent her into utter delirium. It was just too much.

A fever was burning her alive. It was cooking her from the inside out, causing a painfully delicious ache to build fuller and stronger between her legs. She could only compare it to a volcano, a spark of heat that just kept growing so tight and hot that she needed to explode before the fires consumed her.

Biting her lip, she lifted a hand and brushed her fingertips over his knuckles, staring down with hooded eyes as he gently squeezed her fleshy breast. Blushing slightly, she hesitantly settled her hand over his, curiously feeling the way it moved as he continued to fondle her, unperturbed by her touch. His fingers slid up her back, pressing her more fully into him and surprising her when his teeth simultaneously began to nibble on a spot just below the tender bud of her nipple. She knew all too well the damage those sharp points could inflict. Yet the quick little nicks and grazes they left in their wake only sent sweet tremors of delight wracking her small frame until she was quite certain she had actually come to enjoy it.

When his lips began to edge away from her breasts and kiss their way down her stomach, Orihime felt a strange new tingling stir to life inside her. With each pass of his lips the intensity of his eyes gradually became darker and darker, dilating his pupils into something rather hellish and terrifying as he approached lower and lower.

Exploiting her blatant inexperience, his hard body sunk further between her legs before she could protest.

"U-Ulquiorra?" she called shakily when his hands slid over her knees. His palms were grazing down the delicate skin of her inner thighs, sending unanticipated jolts of desire shooting through her abdomen. "Ulquiorra…" Uncertainty and nervousness flooded her eyes when he didn't stop. She wasn't sure what he was doing and it was a little unnerving, and intimidating, not being able to grasp it. She pressed the back of her hand harder against her mouth and carefully tried to tug him back up by his hair when he began parting her legs. He was pushing her thighs so far apart he'd completely exposed her. His breath was a soft exhale on the concave planes of her stomach and his hair grazed her abdomen in the sweetest way as his mouth inched past her navel, leaving cool, wet trails in its wake.

Orihime writhed when he pressed a kiss to the inside of her right thigh. With one slow lick, and then another, Ulquiorra dragged his mouth all the way down to the juncture of her legs. "Ul…Ulqui-!" A broken cry fell apart in the back of her throat when he pressed his mouth directly against her femininity. Her spine arched hard and her head dropped back into the mattress, her lips parted in a hushed whimper.

Everything clenched inside of her, hot and torrid and far too overwhelming for her to process. The pleasure was simply too much. Her legs tried to close on him, her knees curled about his head and her toes dug into his shoulders as she tried to push him away. None of her efforts were fruitful. She had succeeded only in scraping and bruising the inside of her leg on his mask.

His tongue glided along the silky wetness of her rosy flesh, silently torturing her as it gently brushed her clit before suddenly pressing into it harder and harder. Her legs jerked and her hips strained, completely losing all control of her body.

"Ul…Ulquiorra, please…" She couldn't breathe. He'd just started and she already needed a break. Her hands clutched at his hair and mask as her body squirmed against the sweet agony. The cool weight of his palm on her belly held her in place, forcing her to endure as his tongue's ministrations moved lower. It was maddening the way it rubbed and massaged her in a manner she'd never before imagined. Each lagging swipe and each lazy circle it drew over her was a cruel torment. "Ah, n-no!" Her core felt as though it would combust when he pressed against her sex, tracing around the small opening once before introducing his tongue into her.

"Oh, god…n-no, please wait…" she panted, her eyes unable to focus on any one thing. Licking his way back up to her clit, Ulquiorra laved at the tiny bud relentlessly before finally applying a gentle suction with his lips. When his fingers suddenly began pressing into her, Orihime began struggling against his hold. They were prodding and persistent, and the way they worked to ease past her tightness made her feel as if her core was about to dissolve in his mouth. The stimulation was intolerable. Ignoring her protests, he gradually inserted two digits deep inside her and immediately began thrusting into her wetness. It was nothing like the gentle rocking those fingers had done to her in her bathroom before. His fingers invaded her fully now, moving like sin and bringing tears to her eyes as his tongue did unspeakable things to her clitoris. His arm wrapped around her leg, moving his hand down from her stomach to part her folds and expose her completely to the torment of his mouth.

Barely able to withstand the slick friction of his strong fingers, Orihime tried to stop him when the arm wrapped around her hip squeezed her in a firmer hold. Guiding her movements, he began rocking her pelvis against him in a deep, undulating motion while his fingers continued to push inside her in time with his lips. The imposed movement completely stole away the last ounce of her strength. It wasn't a few moments later that a third finger was trying to join the others. Though her tightness fought him and barred the digit entrance, the pressure it created as he worked to fill her up was quite possibly one of the most sublime sensations she'd ever felt.

Shivering and shaking, Orihime writhed and twisted and clawed at the sheets, desperate to run from the overpowering pleasure burning in her loins.

His eyes narrowed dangerously when she pulled herself close enough to the headboard to squirm away from him. Disregarding her startled cry, he grabbed the back of her thigh and dragged her back, brusquely propping her hips up until her pert ass was perched in the air and her face was pushed into the mattress.

His hands gripped the backs of her thighs and quickly glided up to cover her backside. His fingers dug into her hips, keeping her in place as his thumbs shamelessly parted her femininity. Orihime groaned into the bed, trying to catch her breath as he proceeded to massage the delicate rim of her entrance.

Ulquiorra stretched and parted her repeatedly; spreading her, pulling her apart and watching as the smooth, glossy liquid she produced coated his black nails.

His eyes narrowed again.

She was too tight.

She hadn't even been able to take the head of his dick earlier this morning, let alone three fingers.

On his knees, he reclined further on his haunches and pulled her hips back until her upper body was nearly laying over his lap. Massaging her one last time to saturate the digits, he positioned both thumbs over her opening. Pressed back to back, he slowly eased them into her. Her body went rigid and she gave a strangled cry when he gradually began pulling her open.

"Ul-uhn ! Ulqui…orra! W-wait, please…" She rolled her hips back slightly, seeking to relieve the strain. Her jaw flexed hard, breathing out a tense moan through her teeth as he kept expanding her and she kept trying to adjust. He felt her try to clench around him several times and he watched as she shuddered when, stretched so wide, the muscles were left unable to close at all.

Seeking to find her limit, the pads of his thumbs manipulated her inner walls, rubbing and kneading as he spread her further apart. When she reached her limit, he was rather annoyed to see the tiny space that still remained. She hadn't opened for him by much. If he pushed her anymore she would likely tear, and he could already feel the delicate flesh straining and quivering under his touch.

Without delay, he bent over her.

The sensation of Ulquiorra's tongue burrowing deep into her distended sex wrenched a sudden and choked sob from Orihime. She moaned into her pillow as the wet appendage swirled around her insides and searched every little crevice hidden within her. He reached places that had never been touched by anyone, charting secret territories with provocative and lurid swipes of his tongue.

His fingers held to her hips tighter, keeping her still as his thumbs tried unsuccessfully to pry her wider.

Settling his mouth over her, he suckled her opening. Orihime's spine violently arched in response. She had to bite into her knuckle just to hold back her scream, terrified of coming unhinged. His tongue thrust once and then again, following through with an intermittent suction that only seemed to tighten her rather than stretch her. He lapped at her juices and she raked her nails through the blankets, once again attempting to escape the torture and crawl away from him even as her hips simultaneously rocked back into his mouth.

"S-stop…please…I can't! " Something was growing in the pit of her stomach, something unfamiliar and burning white hot and so utterly out of her control that it was frightening. It was nothing like the times before, rather so much stronger. "P-please, stop! I can't! I can't! Ulquiorra…oh god…oh god…I-I'm gonna pass out, pleas-ahhhnnnn!" Her toes clenched around the bed sheets and her knees dug into the mattress, curling her hips back and locking them in place against her will - her body presenting her pussy and forcing her to let him have his way, eager to assist his hungry mouth. Her fingers clawed at the headboard, reaching for it as if it could save her from the delirious sensations assaulting her. His tongue dipped and licked and pressed, eating her out until there was nothing left of her. "No! Please, no more…" she sobbed, shamelessly grinding her throbbing pussy deeper into his face.

Orihime began weeping into her pillow when the tremors started seizing her entire being. Warm, slick fluids were running down her thighs and belly, gushing and pouring out from her as his tongue continued to thrust further into her depths with an excruciatingly controlled rhythm.

Something was about to snap in her and her back was gradually bowing tighter and tighter, lifting her hips higher and higher and welcoming him closer to her aching femininity. Desperation took hold and she began begging him for relief, but he only kept prolonging her suffering.

Suddenly his mouth pulled back and three long fingers plunged deep inside her overheated sex.

Orihime's eyes nearly rolled back into her head.

It was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Her toes pushed her knees a full inch off the bed, bracing her hips up to receive the invasion and take more of it. She felt a pulsating growing inside her. Her inner muscles twitched…she was on the very precipice of the abyss when he cruelly pulled the pale digits out of her. For a brief moment, her body tried to follow his hand, too caught up in searching for release to notice the way he leaned over her or the way his lips started nibbling hotly on her shoulder.

Gripping the top of the headboard, Ulquiorra reached between them to free himself from the constraints of his pants. With one tug on the drawstring the loose fabric fell slack around his hips and his fist grasped the bulging hardness under the material in a firm hold. Dragging his erection out from confinement, Ulquiorra nearly grunted at the stimulation of his own hand. He frowned when he saw just how agonizingly stiff he'd become. It was painfully hard and throbbing and he stroked himself several times just to ease the ache.

As his hand continued to pump, his knee slipped further between hers and spread her legs more fully. Guiding himself to her sex, Ulquiorra slipped his fingers around her throat and pulled her back closer to his chest. His cock slid between her folds and saturated his length in her dampness. Orihime's nipples hardened and she gasped, realizing for the first time just how long and thick he was when it seemed even her soft outer lips could not encompass his girth. Gliding over her once more, he rolled his hips and easily found her opening. Feeling the swollen head of his sex probing her entrance, Orihime eagerly moaned in invitation. He rocked against her, encouraging her participation and creating a mind blowing pressure over her tiny opening that had Orihime mewling in approval.

When he began to push into her, Orihime shivered and quaked as her flesh began to yield for him, far more welcoming than it had been the previous morning.

Leaning his palm more heavily against the headboard, Ulquiorra felt her gradually beginning to give under the steady pressure. His hand tightened around her neck as he slowly entered her, biting back a quiet grunt when she managed the first inch of him.

Orihime's eyes glazed over, falling heavy lidded and out of focus when he didn't stop. He pressed his lips against the hair near her temple as he moved, keeping the pace slow to ensure she adjusted. Her fiery locks clung to her back and neck as she panted, lost in the heady mixture of pain and pleasure that came every time he pushed himself deeper. He felt so hard inside her, so impossibly big but so incredibly good; like steel wrapped in smooth velvet invading her.

So astonishingly sweet and so wonderfully painful, she rolled her head back onto his chest when he got far enough in to begin thrusting in a steadily increasing cadence. The new motion sent a jolt of excitement through her when it began edging him deeper and deeper with each concise drive of his hips.

Resting on her elbows, Orihime could feel that burning knot beginning to wind and twist in her gut again, ready to snap.

"Ulquiorra," she called, suddenly wanting very much to wrap her arms around him. "Ulquiorra!" His name was a hushed, pained whisper on her lips as he gradually entered her, inch by small inch. His girth was stretching her to new limits and she could feel the harsh sting of the tender flesh around her sex straining open for him, struggling to accept more. Every shred of her inner walls were laboring to receive him as he invaded her tight body. "Ulqui-!" Picking up on her distress, his pace began to quicken, each shallow thrust coming more promptly than the last. "Oh, god…it's so big…" she whimpered, unable to hold her tongue or catch her breath. "It's so big…it feels so good!"

His fingers tightened around her neck again, nearly cutting off her air as he unexpectedly shifted their hips. Feeling him beginning to fill her to her breaking point, Orihime arched her back, raised her hips and pushed herself onto her palms to facilitate the position. She whined through her teeth, long and tremulous, as he continued to move. Suddenly, her lips softly parted in a silent scream when he leaned more fully over her, baring his weight down into her hips and creating one steady stream of impossibly strong, ever increasing pressure that her body simply could not withstand. Grinding hard, the unyielding weight abruptly sunk him deep inside her, forcing her to take him to the hilt with a sudden jolt.

She didn't hear his breathy, trembling gasp at the full penetration. All she could hear was the thudding of her own erratic heartbeat as everything faded away without warning. Her vaginal walls seized around him, narrowing in a fast series of powerful contractions. Months worth of sexual tension and days of would-be, close call orgasms came exploding out of her all at once - culminating into something that was only magnified by her feelings for him.

Her heart palpitated in her chest and her entire lower abdomen spasmed in time with every squeeze, working muscles inside her that she didn't even know existed. She milked his shaft in pulsating waves, clear from base to head. One of her hands desperately clung to the arm he had braced against the headboard, hungry for his embrace in the face of her body's whims moving beyond her control.

Behind her, Ulquiorra groaned into her neck and pressed his hips a little closer, trying to make her take more of him.

Finally crying out from the demanding strain, Orihime feared she may have blacked out, for the next thing she knew the darkness was ebbing and her backside was blindly moving against him in short little thrusting motions, her flesh greedily suckling at his cock as if it wanted something from him. She was whimpering quietly and everything between her legs was sopping wet and hot.

"Ul-Ulquiorra." She searched for his lips for reassurance - tears were filling her eyes as she experienced what was quite possibly the most poignant, evocative, and terrifyingly moving sensation her young body had ever known.

The muscles in his arm felt tense and would occasionally quiver under her fingers as she held to it like an anchor. He filled her so completely. So much so that her tight walls hardly seemed to have room to close around him at all and were left laboring over his girth in an effort just to contract. There had never been so much inside her. She had to wonder if there had ever been so much inside any woman. Just the stress of her narrow passage feverishly attempting to clamp down on something so thick and deep nearly drove her to insanity.

As if he knew what she wanted, his hand slithered from her neck, down her curves and under her right thigh. Lifting it just so, he angled her hips back ever so slightly. The minor shift opened her up a small fraction, and Orihime shivered in relief as her walls were granted a little more room to clamp down on him. The new wave of feeling seemed to reinvigorate her orgasm, intensifying it and prompting her to push a bit harder against his unmoving hips.

Daring to remove her hand from the vice grip she had on his bicep, her fingers grazed his cheek to entice him closer. From so near, she could see just how dark his eyes had become. His slit pupils had grown large and dilated. Peering at her from over her shoulder, their irises radiated such vivid green that they almost appeared poisonous. His lips glided up her neck and faintly brushed against hers, only to pull back and keep cruelly just out of her reach.

Burying a hand into her hair, his hips withdrew slightly before pushing forward.

Orihime gasped and he watched as her eyes lit up, her quick breath fanning against his lips as she experienced her first real intimacy. Each exhale between them became entangled as she stared into his eyes. Her face was flushed and her bottom lip was trembling softly. He waited for only a short moment more before he pulled back completely, only to thrust back in with one long, deep stroke. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she whispered his name brokenly against his lips in response.

She was so impossibly tight, wrapped around him with such mind numbing heat.

So much heat…

With another small thrust, her toes curled against his legs. He didn't stop this time, and the slow, agonizing way he continued invading her over and over sent her mind into a haze of lust and emotion. He plunged into her so deeply. He reached so far…it was so intimate, so visceral, to be so connected to someone. It pulled at her heartstrings in such an unfathomable way. Beyond her control, the words, I love you, played through her mind each time he entered her, intensifying the pleasure that much further. Though she never dared speak them aloud.

"You like that?" he murmured directly over her lips, pausing inside her to grind gently.

"Yes," she sighed back, unable to hide the pure sentiment reflecting in her eyes.

Feather light, his mouth swept over hers, his dangerously sharp teeth lightly pricking her bottom lip.

"Yes!" she cried louder when he gave a considerably more forceful thrust.

He kept the pace graciously slow, mindful of her untried body. Each drive of his hips was measured and controlled. Lost in a sea of pleasure, she followed his lips as they languidly traced over hers. When he finally pressed his mouth to hers, Orihime returned the sweet, unhurried kiss. His tongue guided the kiss further into her moist cavern, away from his teeth. Growing a little bold, she pulled his bottom lip between her own teeth to give it a gentle suck.

Breaking away from her lips, his hand settled over her hip. Without warning, he pulled her back into him on a particularly hard thrust. He watched her reaction closely as he did it again, making sure she could handle it as he gradually began picking up momentum.

Orihime couldn't help but cry out when the movements seemed to allow him to reach deeper. Soon she was following his direction. He steered her hips, leading her hesitant thrusts and showing her a new height of desire. She met each rocking motion and complied with every slow grind, gasping when he hit certain delicious spots. She'd pause every time, writhing against him and whispering praises as she let him proceed to reach it again and again. She latched on to an instinctive and primal knowledge that guided her with surprising ease, just like it had been inside her all along waiting to be released. It groomed her movements under the tutelage of his hands and she proved to be a fast learner, for before long she was curving and rolling her hips with his, eager for more.

Pulling his palm away from the headboard, Ulquiorra leaned back slightly. Gripping her small waist in both hands, he continued to guide her back into him, watching as her sex struggled to swallow his girth. He dragged a hand to her rear and lightly squeezed it to spread the round cheek, offering him a better view. Ulquiorra drew back until he'd nearly pulled out of her, observing the way her body clung to his thickness and created a tight suction.

Massaging her round backside, he slowly pushed back inside and Orihime moaned at the excruciatingly drawn out entry. The juicy, pink flesh resisted, and he stared at the way it stretched around him, expanding until it paled and appeared as if it may tear.

He'd never been inside anything so tight as she was, so blisteringly hot. Every sporadic clench around his member was near painful.

Peeking over her shoulder, Orihime's face was unable to turn any redder than it already was when she saw him staring at the place where they were joined. Sensing her gaze, he lifted his eyes to hers and deliberately repeated the prolonged thrust. She mewled in response, momentarily losing all sense. His hand was suddenly in her hair then, the other pressed into the pillow above her head. Leaning over her, he pulled her face up from the cushion until she was forced onto her forearms.

A scream caught in the back of her throat when he began to drive into her with such vigor it almost hurt. He worked her over and turned her out, riding her until her back had arched so perfectly just to receive his every thrust. He took her hard and she eagerly accompanied each deep plunge of his length inside her, never failing to swallow him whole.

All night long he seemed untiring. She tried to match him, even when she'd become exhausted. Her strength would come and go, but the fire that burned in her was pure bliss and it never left. Pleasure would build inside of her in mounting waves. He would lead her to the edge, only to pull her back down again. Over and over, he dangled the temptation of release in front of her, just out of her reach.

There were times that he'd grab her upper arms, pull them behind her back until she feared her shoulders would snap, and haul her up from the mattress, allowing him full control over her body and the freedom to thrust up into her hard and fast–as if he couldn't contain the need that he'd been waiting to release for a very long time. Other times, he let her ride him freely, exploring and learning her own body…and others, he would slip his hands under her knees, drag her back against his chest and lift her so completely from the bed that all she could do was bear with it and endure as he fucked her mercilessly.

Then there were times he'd force her face into the pillow, pushing her hips lower and lower into the mattress until her nails raked over the sheets in delirium.

Each invasion was as agonizingly sweet as the last, driving her to places and heights she'd never known she could reach.

Orihime whined long and hard when he pressed his palm into her lower back and leaned his weight into it. The pressure trapped her under him, forcing her hips to arch up from the strain on her spine. She cried out her ecstasy into the pillows, quiet sobs wracking her body as he pumped into her with quick, strong thrusts. Nothing but incoherent moans tumbled from her lips, each cry wavering from the force of his hips crashing into hers.

One of her hands blindly reached back to stop him. She clawed at his wrist, arm, and fingers, trying to push the hand off her when it became too much. Her toes curled around the pants that were just barely hanging on around his calves and her knees bent in an effort to drag herself away. However, flat against the mattress with only her rear perched in the air, she couldn't move. Not with his hand on her back, pinning her down with his weight. She pried at his fingers, unable to take the intensity of the position or his pace.

He only continued on, fucking her without reserve until she began a low keening. Its pitch only picked up through each relentless and brutal assault on her quivering body.

Dropping down onto his forearm above her, his lips swept over her neck as he suddenly gripped her hip and pressed into her hard.

Orihime lost all her breath. Her fingers clung to the pale arm beside her head in desperation as he continued to press deep inside her. He didn't thrust or grind or rock, merely let her feel every thick inch of him filling her to bursting.

She could hear his breath against her ear, deep and heavier than usual. A shiver ran down her frame when he groaned at the sheer tightness that wrapped around him, squeezing him with a strong, wet heat. The noise nearly drove her over the edge, causing her to arch her hips higher to take more of him. He ground into her in response and with a sudden clench she somehow managed to draw him deeper, sending his mind into blackness.

A fusion of pleasure and pride filled her in knowing she could affect him in such a way. It was a strange sort of delight that had her wanting to bring more pleasure to him, to satisfy him even more.

She nuzzled his ear, relishing the softness of his hair. Her lips sprinkled soft kisses to the few places she could reach and her tongue occasionally darted out to leave a trail of kittenesque licks.

His head dropped to her shoulder, turning away from her affections, but Orihime gyrated her hips back into him and gave an experimental squeeze, completely undaunted. "Ulquiorra," she whispered lovingly. She felt his body shiver once against hers before he quickly reined it in. Encouraged, she pulled her hips away slightly before thrusting back. Trapped under him, she didn't have much room, but slowly she continued, taking him in tiny little pushes. "Ulquiorra," she said again, her voice soft and sweet. Closing her eyes, she savored his hushed grunt. "Ulquiorra…" The longing in her voice deepened as she concentrated solely on feeling him. She whispered his name again and again, causing the tight muscles in his arm to visibly quiver. He leaned more heavily on his forearm, struggling as if a great weight was pressing down on him. Turning her head, she snuggled into his neck, her breath catching as she began to greatly enjoy her own delicate movements. "Ulqui-!"

He met one of her short thrusts, stealing her voice away. He met another and another, keeping the depth and stride just as small and light as when she had started.

She sighed in appreciation, loving the way he barely pulled out before coming back in.

His fingers dug into the flesh of her hip when the pace began to hasten. Each sharp thrust grew even shorter than the last, quickly becoming more frantic and hurried until he was merely pumping his hips against her.

Orihime could feel the burning in her gut again and she could only pray that he would give it to her this time. She wasn't sure if she could take anymore.

"Ulqui-" she called his name, only to be cut off by the pure level of pleasure he was taking them to. His bruising fingers tilted her hips just a little more and Orihime cried out as he reached a part of her so deep she feared it wasn't natural. Even still, she never wanted him to leave that place, making her frantic to keep him there. "Ulquiorra! Ah…yes, just like that, please…oh! Please, don't stop!"

She moved with him, her efforts tired and weak but effective nonetheless. His grunts and her shaky mewls filled the room along with the faint creaking of the bed. The air was thick and smelled of sex, filling her lungs as Orihime strove to find her breath.

He seemed to finally give in, and Orihime practically purred in delight when the weight of his body settled fully over her back. Spreading her legs to invite him closer, he groaned in reply as the position allowed him better and newer angles.

The raw, gravely timbre of his normally smooth voice vibrated through her back and into her chest. It went straight between her legs like a shock of electricity, causing her inner walls to slowly become tighter and tighter with each passing second. Everything he did suddenly seemed heightened to her. From every hard exhale he huffed against her shoulder, to the slick sweat of their bodies sliding together, and even the feel of his steel-like abs flexing and curling his hips with each short little rut; Orihime had never experienced such euphoria.

"Please," she begged silently, desperate for that release that he'd purposefully kept out of her grasp. Her hips were gradually beginning to rise up of their own accord, eagerly welcoming him into her sex. "Don't stop…please let me cum…please…" She twitched around him once as her orgasm began creeping closer. With her legs spread and his weight atop her, she was just barely able to dig her knees into the bed, bracing herself against his hips and triggering him to move harder and faster in response. "Please let me…"

Ulquiorra grunted, and when she gave another squeeze he grunted again…and again, until he pressed his lips into her neck just to muffle the sounds.

"Ulquiorra…Ulquiorra…Ulquiorra…" Over and over again she panted his name close to his ear, each breath and syllable dripping with passionate emotion. He shuddered against her, trying to block out her voice. But she persisted, crying out, Ulquiorra, like it was the only word she'd ever known, like it was the only thing that had ever mattered.

Without warning his hand clamped down over her mouth. His fingers bruised her jaw and his palm pressed tight over her gasping lips. Yanking her head back, he continued rutting her as he firmly pressed his lips over her ear.

"Shut up," he whispered harshly. Her eyes were glazed over and lost, yet under his palm he could still hear his name twisting on her tongue, muffled and unable to stop. "Shut up," he demanded again, fingertips digging further and further into her cheek when she wouldn't quit. She didn't have any business calling his name out like that, and to make sure she knew it, his teeth opened over her throat, ready to silence her. The sharp points pricked into her tender flesh, already breaking the skin with naught but a glancing caress. Biting down, Ulquiorra pulled his mouth away at the last second and dropped his head to her shoulder, knowing it would simply do far too much damage.

Gritting his teeth in frustration, he drove into her hard and slow. Each aggressive push of his hips was a punishment that had her wailing against his hand until, with one final shove, he seated himself in her completely, burying himself directly against her cervix. Her high-pitched whine pierced the room and her breath shuddered through his fingers at the invasion. Ulquiorra stilled. His brows drew tight as he closed his eyes, realizing that he'd penetrated her so deep that he could literally feel her heartbeat.

Frozen under him, tears filled Orihime's eyes and trailed down his hand.

He was so deep.

Despite the twinge of discomfort, her sex was quick to respond. It instantly capitalized on his depth and frantically began contracting around him. Her release came hard, arresting her body with such strength that her thighs seized with each painfully tight spasm.

With a few quick ruts, Ulquiorra groaned and spilled his seed inside her, filling her with his essence.

Orihime whimpered at the surprisingly hot sensation gushing into her cervix. The surging, pulsating throbs of his member unloading itself in her immediately pulled another powerful orgasm from her before the first was even over. Her eyes slowly rolled back into her head as nothing but incoherent moans tumbled from her lips and became distorted against his palm. There was nothing but the feeling of Ulquiorra's girth pulsing and stretching her from the inside out and her muscles desperately squeezing him for every ounce she could get.

He ground against her, gasping and trembling as her orgasm ravenously sucked him for everything he was worth. Her tight convulsions milked him unrelentingly, drawing him in until he could go no further.

With another grunt, he gave one last shallow thrust to ensure she took all of it. Slowing down, he rocked against her in time with each crushing grip of her inner walls as they gradually began to fade out.

It was several moments later before his eyes opened again.

Shifting onto his forearm, Ulquiorra took his weight off of her when it seemed to be causing her difficulties breathing. However, when he moved his arm, he felt the grip of something small and warm stop him. Glancing up to where his forearm lay wedged between the pillows, his eyes narrowed when he noticed she had reached out for his hand at some point during the blinding pleasure and entwined her fingers with his.

She lifted her head and, with a quiet sigh, Orihime savored the last little ripples of pleasure. Reluctantly she let go of his hand as he drew it back, only to tense up when she felt him beginning to pull out of her. "Ul…Ulquiorra…" Biting her lip, she winced slightly as he carefully extracted himself. She was surprised at how tender and raw everything felt.

The slippery, wet sensation of his softening erection leaving her was a little sore. Her insides were warm and she suddenly felt very empty - as if a great space had been created in her and was now left void. Even so, her face was already beginning to burn hotter at the thick concoction of fluids that started running out.

Rolling off her, Ulquiorra settled onto his back amongst the mess of blankets and sheets. Tiredly, his head lolled to the side, like he was out before his head even hit the pillow. Orihime stared at the way his pale muscular chest expanded with one last heavy exhale before it subsided into a steady cadence. His hair clung to his face and some spilled over the pillow under his cheek, making him look even more attractive than usual. Blinking once, she glanced up to his closed eyes.

Was he really already asleep?

"Go to sleep, woman," he said, eyes still closed and sounding very tired.

Orihime looked longingly at the space below where his arm was stretched out beside his head.

She didn't want to sleep alone, even though he was technically right next to her. Besides that, the bed was really wet where she was laying. Cautiously, she crawled closer to him. She tentatively sunk down and curled up in the crook of his arm, burrowing into his side. Warily, she watched his face for any sign of a reaction.

He didn't protest like she thought he would and at his clear acceptance, she allowed herself to relax. A small, euphoric smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she wrapped a leg around his waist and snaked an arm over his chest.

Resting her head on his shoulder, Orihime hummed contentedly when the arm beneath her bent and his fingers tangled lightly into the hair behind her ear before growing still once more. His naked body was cold against hers, but the longer she laid there the more she could feel her own heat infuse into him, making him feel warmer than usual. Before she knew it, she'd joined him in sleep.

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TBC

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