The Furthest Planet From The Sun

by Mahi-Mahi

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

28. Chapter 28

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CHAPTER 28

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The crunch of crisp grass muffled the sound of Ulquiorra's boots as he made his way through the gardens. Aizen had summoned him there after learning about his miraculous escape from the dungeons. Seeing no point in further resistance, Ulquiorra had obeyed. He was under the impression that the gardens were still sealed off by a barrier ever since he'd woken up that morning in a bed that was as empty and cold as it used to be, before her presence had entered his life.

He had no doubt the woman was being kept there, locked away behind another of Aizen's kido spells. When he'd received the summons, he was unsurprised to find he'd been allowed to pass through the semi-translucent wall. If Aizen had requested his presence, it made sense that he'd temporarily alter the allowances on who was and was not permitted to enter.

He'd barely had a chance to gain his bearings after the torrent of issues and series of events he'd just been faced with, both internally and externally, when a servant had arrived in his quarters to deliver the request.

Ulquiorra had realized that, disturbingly enough, upon waking, the presence of the overwhelming hunger he'd been struck with the night before was…absent. The physical hunger for food was still present, yet the chest-deep desire to devour any soul in sight had…vanished.

Ulquiorra was confused.

Confused and frustrated.

Instead of dwelling on the puzzling circumstances any further, he responded to the summons and simply moved forward. He pushed aside his thoughts on the matter, as well as any concerns about the woman and her absence the following morning after he'd fucked her so thoroughly even his own nerves were still riled. His room had been as cold, quiet and empty as he was accustomed to. He moved through his routine like nothing had happened; eating, showering, dressing. His quarters were sterile and frigid – familiar and easy. Yet, there was a distinct void lingering somewhere inside him that he hadn't noticed before. As an inherently nihilistic Hollow, Ulquiorra was familiar with voids. This void, however, felt different.

It felt as if something had once been there, but was now gone.

As he continued through the garden, Ulquiorra passed a row of willow trees and snow white chrysanthemums. With his hands lodged in his pockets, a flash of color appeared in the corner of his eye.

Pausing, he turned to see Orihime sitting in a sizable meadow off in the distance.

Ulquiorra stood in the middle of the trail he'd been following. He watched her for a moment, unmoving and simply taking in the sight of her. She was perched in a field of clovers, her back facing him and the sunlight illuminating her so brightly it practically made her shine. Her legs were folded under her and her skirts fanned out in the grass like a pool of white.

Before he realized his own actions, Ulquiorra stepped off the trail and moved under a nearby willow tree. He stuck to the shadows, allowing the long, hanging branches of the tree to sway in front of him and hide his presence. They moved gently with the breeze, affording him a better view of her beyond their reaches when they happened to drift out of the way.

She was currently humming to herself, though the tune was solemn and lonely – what little of it he could detect from such a distance. Her slender fingers were weaving a crown of clovers, boredom lacing her every movement.

With a sullen sigh, she dropped her hands into her lap and looked up at the sky. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to bask in the warmth the sunlight afforded her.

Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed as he watched her, wondering if she were longing for the warmth of the sun of the living world, instead. She had talked about it often enough during his time as her warden, and how nothing could compare. Not even Aizen's false sun of Las Noches. For a moment, he recalled finding her and the boy out in the desert after their attempted escape, and how she'd claimed she just wanted to go home.

His hands clenched in his pockets.

They lived in two vastly different worlds, and were two vastly different individuals. She existed in the light, where foreign things to him like love and friendship and hearts existed. Ulquiorra knew only death, solitude and the battlefield. In Hueco Mundo, it was "might makes right". It always had been, and always would be. According to Aizen, he had corrupted her beyond reason, though Ulquiorra failed to see how such was the case.

She still looked just as incorruptible and clean as she'd always proven herself to be.

A part of him that he didn't recognize wanted to approach her, to go to her and look into her eyes and simply listen to what she had to say. He was no longer her warden – she, no longer his prisoner.

How would she receive him now?

The other part of him, the cold and unfeeling nature that always existed within him, knew better.

It wouldn't change anything.

Speaking to her wouldn't alter the course of the path he was set to take in the war, or of the desire in him to crush Ichigo Kurosaki as the physical manifestation of her supposed heart right before her eyes. It wouldn't change the hate she would no doubt look upon him with when she realized the darkness he was truly capable of.

Looking back, he was disgusted to realize how frequently he'd tried to hide that darkness from her. It was a sign of weakness he'd overlooked. He'd lie to her (he told her he didn't harm her friends because they were important to her), he would speak more softly to her when he'd upset her (he wiped her tears away when he saw the devastation in her eyes when he brought Ichigo Kurosaki to Las Noches), avoided orders when she was near (he prolonged Arturo's execution simply because she was in the room), change his behavior when she was around to something a little less callous (her stirring from unconsciousness had stopped him from delving further into Grimmjow's punishment for hurting her). Even when he was being his usual cold self, he often held back when it came to dealing with her.

He'd never shown her his true colors, while she had been honest with him to a fault. Naive, even.

She had been so easy to take advantage of, both in luring her to Hueco Mundo and in capturing her heart, mind and body.

To draw out their relationship was pointless, and only served to hurt her further than was necessary.

Despite his selfish depravity, Ulquiorra couldn't bring himself to damage the girl's spirit any more than he'd likely already done.

He'd used her enough.

Even he knew when torture had been strung out for too long and needed ending.

She at least deserved to be left to whatever peace she could find before he destroyed what was left of her heart.

"Lovely, isn't she?"

Ulquiorra didn't react when Aizen came up behind him to stand at his side. His appearance was far from a surprise.

They stood for a moment in silence, both observing the human girl in the distance. 'Lovely' wasn't exactly the word Ulquiorra would have used to describe her, as for the duration of her imprisonment she'd somehow managed to stir up such an upheaval the likes of which Las Noches had never seen – both amongst the high ranking Espada and the commoner servants alike. She was more a peculiarity in his eyes, an aberration of everything he'd ever expected a human to be.

Then again, maybe she was exactly what a human was meant to represent that he'd just been too blind to notice.

"I see you've managed to conclude your time in the dungeons a little earlier than expected," Aizen said as he finally turned to him.

"Yes," Ulquiorra merely answered detachedly, his eyes still focused on the woman who remained oblivious to her onlookers.

"I'll overlook it, I suppose. In the end, I think you learned your lesson. You were due to be released soon, anyways." Aizen said nothing further on the matter, and not unexpectedly. If he'd wanted Ulquiorra dragged back to the dungeons, he would have already done so. Instead, he'd deliberately called him to the garden, where Orihime Inoue herself was being kept, in a move that Ulquiorra suspected was intentional. His master likely had plans that needed to be carried out, and he intended to have Ulquiorra fulfill them in a bid to test his obedience.

"As for the girl…do you know why I gave her to you for safeguarding, Ulquiorra?" Aizen asked, drawing his attention away from the focus of their conversation.

He turned his head slightly to watch him from the corner of his eye. When he didn't reply, Aizen continued, anyway.

"I trusted that you, out of all the Espada, would be capable of resisting her charms. A beautiful young girl; pure and untainted by the hands of man, suddenly thrust into the land of the dead? It was inevitable that Hollows would be drawn to her," Aizen said, his expression taking on a reflective look of remembrance from things far in the distant past, buried by time. "You were always so empty. I gave you the title of my Cuatro Espada, my number four, because you were to be my instrument of death in the war. Studying your unique pedigree helped me bring about my army. Four is a number of death, and people fear it so greatly they avoid using it altogether…

"Still, it was foolish of me to think you lacked the hunger to claim such innocence for yourself, or the ability to disobey me in such a way. At the core of it all, you are still just a Hollow, no matter how unique you may be amongst your brethren."

Still not speaking, Ulquiorra only continued to watch him closely.

"If you recall, I once asked you during your punishment what crime you thought you were guilty of to receive such extreme discipline." When Aizen reached into the breast of his robes and pulled out the gently glowing orb of the Hogyoku, Ulquiorra turned to him fully, his eyes locked on the glassy surface of the jewel. "I assume you might wish to ask me to return her to you for safekeeping? I've noticed the change in your eyes, Ulquiorra. The way you look at her is the same way a man looks upon the thing he desires most. However, she was never yours to begin with."

His green eyes lifted to meet Aizen's brown ones, smiling at him from behind the soft white light of the Hogyoku held in his palm.

"She was never mine, either. She belonged to the Hogyoku. It's longed for her soul longer than you can imagine, and its thirst for her pure soul is greater than yours."

Ulquiorra's green gaze narrowed when he realized what the man was saying.

Aizen Sosuke had intended to feed the woman's soul to the jewel.

"We had an arrangement," Ulquiorra began steadily. "One that you have failed to deliver on…"

"Have I?" Aizen actually smirked. "From my perspective, I've fulfilled my end of the bargain. You've found what you were looking for…it is not my fault that it is out of your grasp."

Lowering his gaze back to the ground, he frowned harshly at Aizen's words. He should have known better than to play Aizen's games, to meddle with the humans and think even for an instant he might know how to bend the rules enough in his favor to get away with it. One way or another, Aizen always came out on top. His ability to exploit individuals and even orchestrate situations and events – even when they spiraled beyond the man's control – was inconceivable.

"You've ruined any chances of the Hogyoku reaching its full potential, Ulquiorra, and I fully expect you to make it up to me in recompense."

"I fail to see how bedding the woman would have altered her soul," Ulquiorra stated bluntly as his frown deepened.

"Of course you wouldn't." Aizen's smile widened fractionally as he slipped the orb safely back into his pocket. "A Hollow would never be able to understand." He chuckled lightly. "In any case, she is useless to me now. And you…" He faced the meadow again, admiring the sight of the lone girl sitting in the field. "Watch from the shadows and long for something that will never be yours, or serve me with the possibility of getting her back, no matter how slim."

Ulquiorra's eyes dropped to the grass between them. There was a long stretch of silence that lingered before he cast one last fleeting glance at the woman sitting in the lush, green clover, surrounded by sunlight.

"What would you have me do?"

Aizen's grin turned positively dark, manipulating the man so thoroughly he wondered if the Cuatro Espada even realized it…or perhaps he did and simply didn't care. Regardless of how things had played out and that Ulquiorra had undermined him worse than he could have predicted, everything still turned out in Aizen's favor. He knew how to pull the strings of his soldiers and enemies so masterfully that he could turn setbacks such as this to his benefit…oftentimes working out better than his original plans ever hoped to be.

Despite his prediction, the Hogyoku still hungered for the girl and her soul, which was miraculously untouched despite the abomination she housed in her womb. If anything, the jewel seemed to hunger for her more than ever, pulsing impatiently whenever it was near her presence.

Ulquiorra didn't need to know any of those things to be useful to Aizen.

Not that the Hogyoku still wanted her.

Not that the very woman he desired was pregnant with his child.

And not that he intended to use Ichigo Kurosaki's hidden strength to evolve the Hogyoku in a way none of them could accomplish.

First, the boy needed to reach that strength. He needed to have someone draw it out of him.

Ulquiorra – whom he'd originally hoped would fulfill this purpose – had just unknowingly stepped up to fill that roll more perfectly than Aizen could have predicted.

"Ichigo Kurosaki and his comrades have run amok through my castle long enough. Rectify the mistake you made by bringing the boy here to begin with. They were nothing more than a menial threat before, outside the walls of the palace. You've brought the enemy inside. Fix it."

The corner of Ulquiorra's mouth dipped in a frown.

He'd never once wavered in his desire to end the boy himself, and the rest of her friends held zero interest to him. However, even knowing this, he fully realized that in executing that order, he'd never get her back. She would never forgive him.

There was no winning in Aizen's games.

Whether he obeyed his orders or not, Ulquiorra would never be with Orihime Inoue again…in any respect.

So, he turned away from her and faced his master stoically. He forgot all about her gentle touch and the way she had cried her love for him the night before as he filled her. He forsook the calls of her heart and all that it represented. He ignored the pull inside him to touch her and be near her.

Ulquiorra Cifer bowed at the waist to Aizen.

"As you wish," he stated coldly. "The boy will be dealt with promptly."

He would return to being the efficient killing machine Aizen had drafted into his army from the start. Though, a part of him wondered when and how along the line he'd ever stopped being such a thing.

When he straightened and turned away, he failed to see Orhime's brown eyes glancing over her shoulder towards the trees. Drenched in the shadows of the willows, she only caught a glimpse of coattails retreating down the path.

Blinking curiously, she looked back down to her crown of clovers, wondering if it had been her imagination.

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After retrieving his Zanpakuto from the armory and wrapping up business he had elsewhere, Ulquiorra left his tower with a cold air of detachment. It was easy to resume his regimen, falling into his role as Aizen's aloof soldier like slipping on a glove that had been broken in to fit his hand perfectly.

Without the woman's constant presence, his mind felt clearer than it had been in months.

Later that day, Ulquiorra's feet carried him towards the direction of Ichigo Kurosaki's spiritual pressure, tracking him like a target on his pesquisa. A part of him distantly wondered how the boy had managed to break out of the Fourth tower to begin with. No doubt the woman had played a significant role in such an act. He had reservations on whether or not the boy was even intellectually or physically capable of such a thing on his own. It had likely occurred sometime between his departure from Hueco Mundo and then his subsequent return. He couldn't recall feeling the Substitute Shinigami's presence upon his arrival through Las Noches' gates, and once he'd been locked in the dungeons behind Aizen's barrier, he could detect nothing at all.

The boy and his comrades had been crawling around the outer reaches of the palace like vermin since then, sticking to the tunnels and battling the weakest of Aizen's forces. Dordoni and the other Privaron had been defeated, however when he felt Nnoitra make a move – disregarding Aizen's orders to stay put and allow Ulquiorra to deal with the situation – and close in on one of the woman's comrades, he knew their pointless 'rescue' campaign was about to draw to an end.

They were nothing more than children, young and inexperienced in the face of the battle-hardened and bloodthirsty Espada.

Fools, he thought cynically.

"My word, that's a scary look you're wearing, Cuatro-san."

Ulquiorra stopped in his tracks when he heard the mischievous voice call out from the veranda he was passing by. The hall he'd been traversing was ground-level; long and lined on one side by endless numbers of pillars, all of which opened up to the dry desert contained within the dome. Looking over, he saw the image of Gin Ichimaru leaning forward on his elbows upon the banister of the patio.

For a moment silence stretched, before Ulquiorra merely turned back to the path ahead of him and took another step.

"You're making the right choice, ya know," Gin called back over his shoulder.

Ulquiorra stopped once again, his shoulders dipping slightly with an annoyed sigh.

"What do you want?"

"What's this?" Gin gasped with a hand over his mouth. "Acknowledgement from the king of sticks-up-the-ass, himself?!"

Ulquiorra cast the man a look of impatience.

"Hime-chan must have had a bigger influence on you than I originally thought," he sniggered.

"The woman has hardly had such an effect," Ulquiorra responded dispassionately, failing to rise to his remarks.

"If you say so." Gin shrugged and went back to gazing at the dunes of Hueco Mundo. "I just thought I'd let you know going off to kill that boy is probably the only logical course of action you have left."

"Mind your own business, Ichimaru. I've been ordered to finish that boy off, though it would have come down to it in the end regardless." Ulquiorra frowned at his back. "I hardly care to hear your opinions on the matter. You've stalked me relentlessly from the moment Lord Aizen brought you to Hueco Mundo…and even more so since that woman came into the picture. Objectively speaking, what makes you think I care about what you have to say now any more than I have in the past?"

"Because I know what that girl is going through," Gin answered, lifting a hand off to the side in a blasé show of casualness, as if he weren't speaking on matters that ran deeper than either of them were willing to admit. "And despite your lack of emotional awareness, I used to know a woman just like her."

Ulquiorra's frown deepened as he turned away and moved on, realizing the ex-Captain was even worse than the woman and her emotional ramblings. He didn't care in the least about the man and his supposed past affairs.

"Men like us will never be capable of making women like that happy, Cuatro-san," Gin offered as he left. Glancing at him over his shoulder, his lashes peeked open ever so slightly. "You're making the same choice I made leaving her behind. I honestly didn't think you had it in you…" he trailed off.

The ex-Captain had been wary of the mysterious and eerie Hollow from the moment he'd met him. Although Gin, himself, harbored no intention of ever truly supporting Aizen's ambitions, there was a part of him that was always on guard around Ulquiorra. He'd known from the moment he set his eyes on him that he was different.

He wasn't driven by power or greed like the others. Nor was he involved with Aizen Sosuke in a show of loyalty like some of the Arrancar were, similar to Harribel and Starrk – who, in the end, were just trying to ward off the endless loneliness that blanketed the inhabitants of the land of the undead.

Ulquiorra had been powerful in a way Gin had never seen, literally. He hid his motives and strength, rarely displaying the true capabilities he knew he possessed. Though, Gin supposed when you were at the top of the food chain, there was little reason to lord it over others. Even Aizen Sosuke, the strongest of them all, scarcely exposed his power, only doing so in instances where discipline was necessary and unavoidable. For most, once was enough.

Speaking from experience, Gin knew men like that – smart, dominant men who never showed their full hand – were never to be trusted. He knew because he was one, himself.

When sweet, innocent Orihime Inoue somehow managed to get herself dragged into the throes of the war and into Ulquiorra's pale grasp, Gin worried.

He frequently trailed the pair like a shadow, looking over the girl in whatever menial ways he could manage. She had been an important person to Rangiku, and he couldn't help the need in him to cling to the girl like she was the last remaining vestiges of Rangiku herself slipping through his fingers.

Looking away from Ulquiorra's retreating back, Gin returned to watching the sand float by on the desert floor.

It would hurt the girl now, but not nearly as much as a life with someone the likes of Ulquiorra would provide her…

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Despite his single-minded focus on Kurosaki, Ulqiuorra found himself passing by the gardens one last time. His feet apparently having carried him there against his will. He walked along the tall walls that enclosed the grounds and kept it secure from the rest of the palace. Vines reached over the top, climbing along its ledges and falling in trailing arms down the outer side.

The false sun had set on the horizon, casting the lush greenery in an array of shadows. He was reluctant to admit that he'd been stalling for time. The boy was far in the distance, and he'd need to move soon in order to intercept him before he breached further into the inner dome.

Strolling along the length of the wall, he turned at the sound of quiet sobs echoing out from behind the solid concrete. He noticed the woman's presence had been sealed off again, as he could not sense her despite the fact he could hear the sound of her voice beyond.

Continuing on until he reached a break in the wall, he paused outside one of the iron gates. It was just a meager side entrance likely used by servants, and he noticed the hazy glow of the barrier was indeed fully back in place.

With his hands resting in his pockets, he approached the gate, shrouded in shadows as his green eyes looked beyond the iron bars and into the night.

There, on a bench under one of the trees, the woman wiped at her eyes as she wept. Her sobs were quiet and tremulous, though despite their hushed nature, they rang out clearly in the dead of the night.

Not long ago, one of her companions had fallen to Nnoitra's blade. He could practically see the despondency on her even through the darkness.

Lifting his gaze, he briefly examined the kido spell that glowed in front of him like the glittering face of a pool of water. His hand reached forward, lightly touching the barrier to test its durability. As he thought, it stopped him immediately from passing through.

However, the moment he touched the surface, her crying halted and her head whipped in his direction, as if she could sense his very presence.

Their eyes met instantly.

She sat for a second without moving, seeming to question whether her eyes were deceiving her or not.

"Ulquiorra?" she called quietly.

When his hand dropped back into his pocket, she stood and rushed towards him. He noticed how pale and withdrawn she appeared, so different from the exuberant liveliness she'd always shown while under his care. Ironic, how she now appeared so worn and tired despite being drenched in the dome's sunlight everyday – isolated even from the scant few comrades she'd managed to draw to her side during her imprisonment.

Her steps carried her quickly to the gates, where she rested her palms flat against the barrier and pressed her body to the bars that kept her locked inside.

"Ulquiorra," she practically bleated his name, lips trembling and eyes full of remorse. Against his better judgment, he stepped forward almost beyond his will. She looked every bit the tragic, caged bird she currently was. Her hair pins were gone, stripped of her person just like every last remaining bit of happiness that had been torn from her grasp.

"Obviously you're aware of what happened," he began, knowing full well the reason behind her current distress.

"Please let me out," she beseeched, her tear-stricken eyes still flashing with that ray of hope that he'd never once been able to understand, even in the face of her hopeless situation. She was still fighting, regardless of the fact she was currently powerless against Aizen Sosuke and his desires.

"That is beyond my power," he told her without remorse, causing her to flinch back at the impersonal words. "There is nothing you can do to help your comrades, even if I were to set you free."

"What are you…?" she trailed off, scarcely able to fathom the icy bite of his remarks after he'd held her so desperately the night before. "Why are you saying this?"

"Why would I not?" His eyes narrowed and he noticed the defenses she immediately began to put up at his show of indifference.

"How can you speak to me like that after–?" she cut herself off, swallowing the lump in her throat as her stomach began to turn. He'd practically devoured every confession of love she had spilled into his lips. Consumed them as if it were the only thing capable of sating his hunger. She'd willingly allowed him to take her again and again, believing he'd needed her as deeply as he'd claimed he did.

Bile rose in her throat at the thought it had all meant nothing to him.

Her heart, however, refused to believe it.

"You don't mean that." Her chin quivered as she tucked it down and stared at his feet.

"Foolish woman," Ulquiorra began and looked off to the side, refusing to acknowledge that the downcast appearance of her face would even affect him in any capacity. "You always failed to believe the reality in front of your eyes. You refuse logic for the pull of your heart."

"And you only ever look with your eyes and not your heart!" she protested with an ardent whisper, gritting her teeth in frustration.

"Then I suppose we are at an impasse."

Orihime's shoulders clammed up closer to her body as she trembled.

"You should know by now that I possess no heart."

"Then take mine, instead."

Ulquiorra wished he could have been surprised by her offer. Days ago, his eyes would have widened in shock at such a bold declaration. He would have likely torn her clothes off and stamped it into her body again and again the fact that he had no heart, and thus could never own one…not even hers.

Now, he merely looked upon her with empty resignation.

He stared down at her, taking in her image beyond the barrier. She gripped the bars of the gate tightly in her hands, her head lowered down and her form shaking – from sobs or anger, he couldn't tell.

Orihime Inoue, the young woman he'd abducted from the mortal realm and used like a pawn in his desire to invoke Ichigo Kurosaki's wrath and power. He'd taken ownership of her life and freedom. He'd stolen her virginity and anything else she'd so blindly offered him, naive even in the face of his darkness. Her beauty and charming demeanor had been too much for even the hardest of the Espada to resist at times. Himself included, apparently.

Yet, there she was, standing before him, still stubbornly offering her heart to him despite how he'd scorned her.

Ulquiorra didn't have any business owning her heart.

Even he could see that now.

Whether or not hearts even existed was irrelevant at this point. Who was right or who was wrong, he no longer cared because, in the end, it would never be within his grasp.

"Dry your tears, woman. You're annoying me." He frowned down at her, very nearly sneering the words in frustration.

"Stop it," she bit out. Her hands clenched the bars tighter.

"Enough."

Orihime flinched again at the sharp finality in his voice.

"I don't want your heart, woman. Things that don't exist have no value to me. Yet you stand here, regardless, and continue to offer it to me. Is this supposed to sway me in some way? Pathetic."

Orihime felt her knees literally go weak.

She couldn't actually be hearing this.

For one terrifying and ground-shaking moment, she realized she had failed. She'd failed to reach him. Her love hadn't been enough…

She had promised Ichigo that she'd get through to him before things got out of hand…Orihime was heartbroken to realize they were all well past that point. They had been for some time now.

"I don't believe you." She breathed the words with her last bit of strength, the last wisps of her soul reaching out to him.

Instead of answering her, Ulquiorra sighed and turned away from her again.

"I intend to put an end to this once and for all." If Orihime had thought she'd been distraught before, she felt her blood utterly run cold at the words that followed. "One of your friends is already dead. We'll see if you are still willing to offer me such a thing when I finish off Ichigo Kurosaki…"

Ulquiorra knew, despite her affection for him, the love she had for her comrades far outweighed the love she supposedly had for him.

"You wouldn't…"

"You apparently do not know me as well as you think you do, woman," he stated matter of factly. "I can and I will."

Stubborn to a fault, she hardened her features and looked up at him harshly. "Sado-kun isn't dead…and you'll never be able to kill Kurosaki-kun."

Ulquiorra watched her from the corner of his eye, intrigued by her spirit despite himself. Even though he'd seen her resolve time and time again, it never failed to amaze him.

"That fool Nnoitra got impatient. He had been under standing orders to remain in his place, yet he went out to fight anyway. You've seen the strength of the Quinto Espada with your own eyes. Your comrade is dead," he inflamed her further.

"I could sense the fight. Sado-kun isn't dead," Orihime repeated unwaveringly. Ulquiorra briefly looked away from her steady gaze, and her eyebrows dipped with further resolve. "That's for sure."

When his eyes slid back over to her, he was hard pressed to deny that he was internally impressed by her unending and steadfast resolution. The faith she had in her friends was unshakable.

"I refuse to believe you," she added.

"I understand your defiance, but until I drag the boy's head in here for you to inspect with your own eyes, it seems as if you will continue to doubt my threats." He looked at her harshly.

"All I know is that Sado-kun is not dead." Orhime lowered her eyes to the ground and reached across her abdomen to grip her other arm.

"You're annoying me," he said coldly, not even realizing he was repeating himself. "It doesn't matter one way or the other. Do you expect me to respond to your provocation? Do you expect me to reassure you? To confirm to you whether or not he's still alive? It's a pathetic attempt. I'm not here to comfort you either physically or psychologically."

Orihime's eyes lowered in sadness.

"I don't even understand why you care so much whether or not he's alive." Orihime turned back to him and gasped, stunned to hear the honesty in his voice. "Before this battle is over, all of your friends will be dead anyway. That is the truth. What does it matter if one is killed a bit sooner than the others? They should have realized that this was going to happen from the start."

"Stop it right now," Orhime pleaded, tearing her eyes from him again when she realized she could hardly bear to look into his cold eyes. Before, his words scorning her heart had been a bluff, she was certain of it. However, this was genuine cruelty on his part. He really meant what he was saying. He was truly trying to hurt her. This was truly how he saw their situation.

"If they didn't realize it, then they're fools and deserve to die for their arrogance." Orihime winced. "Either way, you should dismiss them from your mind. It's not worth the effort to remember them. If I were you, I'd be angry that they were all foolish enough to sneak into Hueco Mundo in the first place." Orihime's eyes widened in horrendous realization at his words. "Like lambs to a slaughter."

Angered beyond reason, she quickly turned away from the sight of him and gave him her back. Had the barrier not been there, she hadn't a doubt in her mind that she would have slapped him.

Orihime held to her fist shakily, tears running down her cheeks as her sobs filled the air. She bit into her bottom lip hard, trying to reign in her tears unsuccessfully.

"You're trying to hurt me."

"Perhaps," his quiet voice echoed back at her through the dark.

Silence hung thick and heavy between them before she finally broke it.

"Kurosaki-kun will stop you." The certainty behind her resolve was admirable, but it wouldn't be enough to save either of them. Not her or the boy.

Ulquiorra turned from her completely, their backs facing one another in the night. "We shall see."

When he made to step away, he paused as he listened to her restrained tears. Clenching his hands tightly in his pockets, he stared vacantly at the pathway in front of him.

"Orihime," he called, causing her to gasp at the sound of her name on his lips.

Glancing at him over her shoulder, her eyes widened as he spoke.

"Know that I would have you, if I could…"

A thousand thoughts raced through her mind at his admission. She realized at that moment that he wanted her as badly as she wanted him. In spite of his denials, he wanted the heart that she'd offered up to him like a sacrifice.

Racing back to the gate, her palms pressed to the barrier as she called out his name.

"Ulquiorra! Please wait!" she shouted to him. "You need to know that I'm pr–"

Orihime was remiss to realize it was too late. He'd already opened a garganta and stepped through.

He was gone.

.

.

.

Ichigo was barely able to halt his momentum as he slid to a stop in the large and open antechamber he was running through. Nel squealed in protest from her place under his arm as he paused and turned back in disbelief at what he'd just felt ripple through the air.

Rukia had fallen.

"Is there something wrong, Ichigo?" the small girl looked up at him and asked.

"Rukia…" he muttered roughly. His eyes were shimmering with dread.

She couldn't possibly be…

Like a shot, the harsh grinding noise of sonido broke through the quiet before he could finish his thought. Behind him, Ichigo felt chills run down the back of his neck when he sensed a figure materialize in the doorway at the top of the staircase that led out of the room.

"So you've noticed."

Ichigo tensed.

He knew that voice…and that spiritual pressure. He'd loathed it from the day he'd ever had the misfortune of becoming familiar with it.

He also knew their confrontation was a long time coming.

Turning almost in slow-motion, he and Nel looked back at the intruder, his eyes widening at the confirmation of what his spiritual awareness had already warned him of.

"I thought that you were a kid that possessed only brute strength," Ulquiorra stated from his position in the doorway, hands resting casually in his pockets like he didn't find the boy to be a threat whatsoever.

The tightness around Ichigo's brow stiffened in shock, as his eyes reflected the sight before him. The light behind the Espada cast his slender figure into a harsh silhouette against the backdrop, causing the horn of his mask to cut a malevolent shadow on the steps below. That shadow seemed to have a life of its own, long and reaching as it slinked down the stairs like a demon crawling out of the underworld to reach for him. His mere presence seemed to drop the temperature in the atmosphere by several degrees.

In the back of his mind, Ichigo knew there would be no more running.

Every encounter he'd had with Ulquiorra had been fleeting, at best. The pale man had a habit of avoiding confrontation with an almost disgusting amount of ease, despite the sharp bite of his tongue throwing insults around like they were somehow compliments.

Now, however, the cold and narrowed gaze he looked down upon Ichigo with spoke to one fact.

The man hadn't come there to talk.

He had hoped it wouldn't come to this. At least, not so soon.

"Quite frankly I'm amazed that you have some decent abilities."

A pause lingered, and Ichigo let the weight of the moment hang around him as he continued to stare up at the man in shock.

"Ulquiorra…" he spoke his name with an edge of disbelief, truly surprised to have come across him in such a manner.

"It's been quite a while. Right, Soul Reaper?"

The pillars around them loomed like obelisks in the darkened room, and the faint breeze that managed to reach so deep into the palace created a resonating hum as it whistled past the structures. It was the type of subsonic sound that got a man's instincts riled up against his will.

Nel whimpered in his grasp, and Ichigo took a moment to recall every instance he'd encountered the Espada. From the first meeting with him in the living world, where he'd deflected Kisuke's attack with an unsettling lack of effort, to the time his pale hand had stilled Grimmjow's blade from further attacks upon himself and Rukia. He remembered the unsavory encounter they'd shared when he forced him to deliver the treaty to Soul Society, and then that fateful skirmish in the Menos Forest when he'd taken Ichigo captive.

Every time, during every encounter, the man had remained in calm control. He'd put those around him in their place, and somehow still kept his own hands unsullied with battle at the same time.

Without any rush behind his actions, Ulquiorra took a step forward and began to descend the stairs. "How interesting that you've come back here, even after you've already escaped imprisonment. You humans truly are a foolish bunch." When he reached the base of the stairway, Ulquiorra stopped to stare vacantly back at the young man.

Ichigo's own eyes had hardened into a look of vague disquiet, clearly distrustful of his presence. By now, he knew better than to let his guard down and trust the placid calm the man carried himself with.

Looking him dead in the eye, Ulquiorra measured him closely. "At any rate…Rukia Kuchiki is dead." Ulquiorra spoke bluntly, cruelly, as he locked on the boy like a magnet, waiting for a reaction. He'd seen the way the two had interacted out in the desert. He knew she was an important person to him.

"What?!" Ichigo hissed, his eyes widening in a distraught display of shock.

"More accurately, she and Espada number nine killed each other. Her entire body was covered in wounds, and she was run through by a trident. She couldn't have survived."

Ichigo stepped forward. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. Just a moment ago, I felt Rukia's spiritual pressure decrease. You weren't fighting her, there's no way that you would know-"

"Synchronized awareness," Ulquiorra interrupted before he could continue. "That was one of the Noveno Espada's talents. He had many responsibilities and that was one of his roles. In the exact instant that he first engages in battle, he can convey information about his enemies to his comrades."

Just as he was finishing, Ulquiorra watched in mild surprise as Ichigo abruptly turned from him and began walking away.

"Where are you going?" he asked, slightly annoyed. The boy was always so brash, so unrefined. Where Ulquiorra was stern in nature, even down to his very clothes strictly zipped up to his chin and his countenance always so controlled, Ichigo was wild and unrestrained, lacking even a basic level of awareness more often than not.

It frustrated him how, at times, these humans never did as he expected. He didn't rise to the bait of his taunt over his comrade's demise. Not in the least.

Slowly, Ichigo's steps came to a halt. "I'm going to save Rukia," he stated roughly, his voice gravelly and gruff from the effort it took him to hold back his wavering emotions.

"I told you, she's dead."

"I don't believe you," he whispered back.

Ulquiorra watched him from the corner of his eye. "You're very stubborn. Is it a good idea to leave without killing me?"

Ichigo grit his teeth. There he went with his casual talk about killing again. The man was twisted, Ichigo was sure of it. He shouldn't have been surprised by the subtle provocations that Ulquiorra was capable of inflicting, but at the moment his nerves were too frayed to stand it.

"I've no reason to kill you," Ichigo answered steadily, leaving his back wide open to the man. "And I already told you once before, I won't kill in someone else's name…"

Ulquiorra's eyes widened momentarily in shock. After all he'd done, after everything with the war…the boy still refused to fight him. "And what do you mean by that?" he asked, wondering if Ichigo Kurosaki even saw him as a threat. If he didn't, he would soon rectify that mistake…

"You may be my enemy, but the fact is…you haven't hurt a single one of my friends yet." Ulquiorra listened, staring ahead into the length of the chamber stoically as he absorbed the words. "We may have had our differences, but you've failed to raise a hand to any of them in a manner that wasn't self-defense. As much as I hate to admit it, Renji attacked you first. And Inoue…you've kept her safe, just like you swore you would when you gave me that treaty. Even Tatsuki…only after she tried to hit you, did you react. But instead of killing her like you could have easily done, you turned around and left without further incident.

"As much as it pains me to admit it, you've also saved me from Grimmjow on several occasions. You rescued me and Inoue from that sandstorm, too." Ichigo unconsciously clenched his free hand tighter, recalling Inoue's tearful confession before he'd escaped from their cell. "I also promised someone very important to me that I wouldn't fight you."

"I see," Ulquiorra mused as he glanced at the boy's back. Ichigo Kurosaki and the woman seemed to have more in common than he'd originally thought. Though, he was admittedly disappointed that the mentions of Rukia Kuchiki had failed to rouse a reaction from him. His next words, however, got the response he was looking for. "What if I tell you I was the one who forced Orihime Inoue to come to Hueco Mundo?"

In the very next second, Ichigo had disappeared in a blur of flash-step, dropping Nel in the process as he swung his sword with all his might upon his enemy. Ulquiorra's arm came up, already anticipating the attack, and blocked it with ease. His green eyes took in the hatred that gleamed out from the boy's own brown ones.

He'd switched like the flip of a coin.

"You kidnapped her and brought her here! She told me someone took her, but I suspected that she didn't come to Hueco Mundo of her own free will!"

"How unexpected," Ulquiorra drawled callously, not sounding surprised in the least, despite his words. "You had some doubts about the girl, didn't you? Despite that, you and your friends came to save her."

"Damn you!" Ichigo growled deeply. "Do you understand what you did?! Because of your actions, Orihime is being called a traitor! Because of you, she's now-!" Ichigo couldn't bring himself to finish.

Ulquiorra stood unmoved in the face of his anger, energy flowing out from the point of contact between his arm and Ichigo's Zanpakuto. His hierro was strong, and the blade did little to no damage to his flesh.

"A traitor, yes. If she were not being called that it would mean that we grossly miscalculated."

Hatred like Ichigo had never known before flooded his veins. To hear that man, the very man who'd used her and left her with child, talk about her in such an unfeeling and savage manner struck a nerve inside him that could never be soothed.

"You bastard," Ichigo sneered, wondering why and how Inoue could have ever loved such a man. He didn't deserve her.

"Is that enough reason to fight me now, Soul Reaper?"

Energy exploded around them in a burst that stirred up the sand that had settled on the floors. Ichigo jumped back as the dust expanded before slowly ebbing out. When he looked up, Ulquiorra stood in the same place he'd been prior to the blast, hands stuck back in his pockets and not a hair out of place, like it had been nothing more than a trifling matter.

"Uh...Ichigo?" Nel called out to him from her place on the floor, hands held protectively over her head.

"Nel," he answered gently. "Make sure you stay back."

"But…Ichigo!"

"He doesn't wanna let me get by." He smiled darkly back at the man. Despite his promises to Orihime, and despite his long-standing internal misgivings about facing off with someone as unnerving as Ulquiorra Cifer, Ichigo was all too happy to finally put an end to their unspoken rivalry. "But unfortunately, things won't turn out the way that he'd like." Ulquiorra merely stared back at him, unconcerned with the brave front the boy was putting on. "I must move quickly," he stated as he dropped into an offensive stance. "I'm going at this guy…with everything…I've got!"

Deep black and red energy swirled around his sword as he mustered up every bit of strength his body could manage. He recalled his time in the arena and the strength he'd drawn upon then, the reiatsu he had welling up inside him. He'd used that energy to beat Dordoni, and he knew if he put his heart and soul into it, he could get past Ulquiorra, too.

There were too many people counting on him for him to fail. He would prevail, and then he'd rush to Rukia's side where, together, they could bring Inoue home where she belonged.

"I'm sorry about this, Inoue…" he muttered as he gripped the handle of his weapon tighter. "But it looks like I'm going to have to break my promise to you, after all…"

He called upon his memories of the girl and everything she'd sacrificed for them. He thought back on the way she felt in his arms as she cried into his chest and admitted her love for the man that currently stood in his path, looking at him with eyes so soulless that he doubted he even possessed a heart.

Jealousy, anger, and hatred were the only things he could muster in reaction to Ulquiorra's presence.

Ichigo thought, that if pulling out those darker aspects of his persona had been Ulquiorra's endgame in using Orihime to get to him…he'd succeeded.

"Bankai!" he shouted resolutely.

Dark spiritual pressure surrounded him like a cloud, the red haze of it reflecting like a sunset in Ulquiorra's observing eyes. He watched closely, looking for the signs of strength and aptitude he had always suspected the boy housed within him. The power surged towards the ceiling like a cyclone, blowing his coattails back with the force.

The display looked very…showy. It was smoke and mirrors, putting on a big spectacle when there was no real danger behind the attack.

Like a child throwing a tantrum, Ulquiorra thought.

"A bankai, is it?" he noted to himself as he watched the young man shoot off towards the ceiling in preparation for his assault.

When Ichigo emerged from the whirlwind donning his Hollow mask, Ulquiorra's eyes widened in shock. The power curled around him, rotating with long arms that lashed out at the walls like snaps of lightning. Then, with a voice as distorted and dark as a bloodthirsty Hollow, he cried out as he struck, sending the energy flying towards Ulquiorra.

He took a hand out of his pocket, blocking the attack head on. His feet dug into the ground, breaking the concrete on contact from the force of the blow. Before he knew it, he'd leapt into the air, throwing the energy aside as he was propelled back through several pillars.

That form, Ulquiorra internally marveled – and not for the first time – wondering how he could possess such spirit energy. It's as if he's one of us…he noted to himself, realizing that this time was different. The energy was darker, the vibe of his soul was full of hatred and brutality. It seemed as if Ulquiorra had not been far off the mark in his quest of using Orihime Inoue to break down the boy's walls and drag out something more powerful and darker.

"It's over!" Ichigo growled thickly, swinging his blade around and taking the energy with it like a whip. "Getsuga Tensho!"

Deciding to test that strength, Ulquiorra deliberately landed on the ground directly in the blade's path. Reaching a hand out, he once more attempted to stop the blast. The concrete under his boots indented and crumbled as it pushed him back, forcing him to pull another hand out from his pocket to block.

"Impossible," Ulquiorra grit out as the energy soon overtook him, flooding him and the room in a sea of black.

When it cleared, all was quiet.

Afterwards, Ichigo stood gasping and panting in the wake of his attack, his mask falling in fragments at his feet.

I did it, he thought to himself, each breath a trembling and messy concoction of incredulity and relief. There was no way Ulquiorra would be able to walk away after that.

"Ichigo!"

"Nel?" he uttered as he glanced back, only to flinch when he saw her flying through the air towards him, snot threading from her nose like a rope. He didn't even get the chance to dodge, despite his great desire to, as she abruptly slammed into his face and sent them careening back into one of the last standing pillars.

"I thought you were going to die! I thought you were going to die! Don't die!" she wailed, slamming his head back again and again into the column as she gripped his collar – all the while her sinuses failed her.

"Who knows, I still might…" he managed to breathe against the painful onslaught as the back of his head was pummeled yet again.

"Look at you, a complete physical wreck, yet you still used your powers to fight! Stop that. That's crazy! I was really worried about you. You were fighting and I was scared! So don't…don't do it anymore. Stop it, it's not-"

The girl continued to ramble and Ichigo, despite the pain he was currently in, placed a hand on her head, trying to silence her panicked protests. "Sorry, Nel. I guess that you got pretty scared."

"Oh, Ichigo!" When the snot river became too much to even look at without the urge to gag, Ichigo lifted the girl and held her away from him.

"Your snot! Make it stop! It's touching me!"

"Huh?"

"Come on now, that's gross! Seriously, carry a handkerchief with you or something!" Ichigo was loath to admit the way his voice actually trembled at the sight of Nel suddenly sucking in a nose full of air, essentially retracting the slimy ribbon back into her head like a prairie dog.

"Back it goes!" she announced cheerily.

"Eh…how nice…" Ichigo internally wondered how Orihime was ever going to manage dealing with a kid. Children were honestly disgusting at times and Nel was like a walking embodiment of that fact.

At the thought of the girl, Ichigo's eyes sobered.

A part of him felt guilty for what he'd just done. He didn't take pleasure in killing, and it was something he withheld from unless absolutely necessary. Although he was uncertain if he'd succeeded in wiping the pale man off the face of Hueco Mundo, he at least knew he'd destroyed him beyond repair. If Ulquiorra was still alive, he wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

He'd put every ounce of his power into that attack, to the point he felt so drained he could hardly lift his arms. He'd done so knowing that not just any regular attack would succeed in defeating Ulquiorra so easily. Yet…there was a part of him, dark and buried under layers of complexity that he dared not dig up, that had wanted to finish him off. He refused to analyze those gruesome emotions, he didn't want to acknowledge them or what they meant.

He'd told Ulquiorra once that he wouldn't kill, least of all in Orihime's name, and yet…

Ichigo wasn't proud of it, but the hatred boiling inside him for what that man had done to Inoue was nearly all-consuming.

He had sworn to her that he wouldn't fight Ulquiorra before he left, and then broke that promise the moment he'd taunted him with her name.

Good riddance…he thought bitterly as he glanced one last time at the dusty hole in the wall Ulquiorra's body had made.

"Alright," he said as he set Nel down. Ignoring the protests from his body, he grit his teeth as he stood up. "Let's go."

"Are you alright, Ichigo?" she fussed.

"Yeah, I'm okay. We can't waste any more time hanging around here."

Behind them, Ichigo sensed movement, causing his pupils to contract in fear when he caught sight of the dark shadow stirring behind the cloud of smoke. Dread creased the corners of his eyes as he took in the image that greeted him.

Ulquiorra stood amongst the rubble, clothes torn and tattered, but otherwise completely unscathed by the attack.

"What-?" he breathed in disbelief. "How?"

"Impressive," Ulquiorra stated, though not sounding impressed in the least. "Even using both my hands I couldn't stop it. I'm quite surprised. Was that it? Finished…Ichigo?" he taunted with wicked calm.

"You…you can't," he said as he turned to him fully, meeting Ulquiorra's stoic gaze with his own appalled one.

"Hm, yes. It would appear that it was," he remarked as he reached up to casually brush the dust from his shoulder. Without hesitation, he then turned that hand and pointed it at the boy. "How unfortunate."

Green energy, the likes of which Ichigo had never seen or felt before, gathered at the tip of Ulquiorra's finger. With a cold stare, he sent the massive cero straight at him, its pressure dense and controlled like a compressed laser. The heat of it seared the room and hissed with a resonating buzz, like electricity forcing its way through the atmosphere and breaking the sound barrier.

It struck him like fire, tearing through his uniform and singing his skin painfully.

He rocketed back, blown clear through the wall of the chamber and thrust out into the bright, sunny light of the dome. He landed in the sand, barely able to keep his grasp on an unconscious Nel as he took off, desperate to retreat with their lives barely intact after just a single paltry attack from the man.

"Nel, are you alright?" he called down to the girl as he ran, heaving for oxygen and trying to contain the panic in his voice. "Nel?!" he called again when he felt just how limp she was in his arm. "Try to hold on. I'm going to try to find you somewhere that's safe where you can rest."

Thinking that he was in the clear, Ichigo felt time literally stop around him when Ulquiorra suddenly appeared at his side, keeping up with his haggard steps with ease.

Glancing at the boy's bruised face one last time, Ulquiorra sent him flying with a devastating kick. Sand flew up from the force of it, knocking Ichigo back as he cried out in pain. At some point when he was careening through the air, he'd lost his hold on Nel, and possibly on consciousness, too.

The moment he struck one of the abandoned buildings of the desert, he suspected he blacked out. In the next, he was grunting on the floor, pushing the debris off his body as he struggled to get his bearings.

He clenched his jaw and groaned long and hard as he wrestled under the weight of a concrete slab that had fallen on his back. With a hefty shove, his arms shook as pushed against the floor and managed to free himself. It took no small effort, and by the time he was done, he was shocked to feel the blood pouring from his head and various wounds on his body. His back was torn to shreds by the concrete, and a bloody gash on his scalp was running down his face so thickly he could hardly see out of his right eye.

Ichigo was distraught to realize the Espada had just wiped the floor with him. Easily.

He'd been toying with him the entire time.

Planting his hands onto the gritty floor, he struggled to catch his breath.

Throughout the entire confrontation, Ichigo realized Ulquiorra hadn't once raised his spiritual pressure, while Ichigo himself had gone all out from the start. Dumbfounded and a bit dazed, he wondered just what the hell kind of a man could possess that kind of strength and savagery, along with such a masterful control over his reiatsu that Ichigo was left guessing if Ulquiorra had even used any at all during their fight.

In all his battles, he'd never been put in his place so quickly and decisively.

His pride felt shattered, but his resolve remained hardened, reminding him of his friends that were still counting on him. He couldn't let it end there.

Glancing up, he gasped when he saw Ulquiorra standing in the opening that had been blown through the wall of the tower.

He didn't even sense him move…

"I'm impressed by your reaction time. You used your mask to block my cero, but this time it shattered instantaneously." Ulquiorra walked forward, and for one heart-stopping moment, Ichigo realized this was the man Inoue had fallen in love with. This monster with eyes so cold and ruthless, was the man she had cried over, who'd sired the infant growing inside her. "I'm afraid that you won't be able to bring it out again. You've nothing left to hold me off…" Ulquiorra remarked, stoic even in light of his derisive words. "Time to give up."

Without weighing the repercussions of his actions, Ichigo thrust his blade forward with the full intent to kill him where he stood.

For one brief second, Ulquiorra jolted back from the impact of his sword striking him.

"I'll never surrender," Ichigo gasped raggedly, barely able to get air in his lungs through the pain. "You're the leader of the Espada, aren't you?" he bit out.

Ulquiorra merely stared at him for a beat longer than expected.

"So, it's very simple. What I have to do is defeat you in battle, then this war is as good as over."

Forgive me, Inoue, he thought remorsefully. If he didn't stop Ulquiorra now, there was no telling where her jaded path would lead with that monster pulling her along.

"I see. It looks as if you have been misinformed." Ulquiorra paid little mind to the sharpness of his blade as he reached up and gripped it with his bare hand. His hierro had stopped the attack easily, and as he ripped the sword from his jacket to reveal the black number four tattoo on his chest, it also revealed he had been left utterly unscathed.

"You're…the fourth?" Ichigo felt his hopes for victory plummeting.

"Correct. Espada number four, Ulquiorra Cifer. Of all the Espada, my power is ranked fourth."

Crouching down in front of the wounded boy, Ulquiorra met his brown eyes levelly.

"The woman was wrong to have placed her hopes in you."

Ichigo flinched at his remark, hardly able to face the fact the wound he'd just delivered with those words ran deeper than any of his surface injuries ever could.

He wasn't good enough. He hadn't been strong enough to save her.

Reaching out, Ulquiorra's pale fingertips lightly touched his exposed chest. He lingered there at the place just above his heart, and for a split second he stopped to wonder at just how strongly it was connected to the woman's.

"She'll never forgive you if you do this," Ichigo bit out in warning. It wasn't stated in fear for his life, rather the shattered husk that Ulquiorra's actions would leave Inoue in.

For one heartstopping moment, Ichigo watched the hesitation in Ulquiorra's eyes as he stared at the point where his fingers touched his chest. It was the first sign of life, of anything other than merciless cynicism, that Ichigo had seen reflecting in his eyes.

His fingers pulled away a small centimeter before he looked back up into Ichigo's exhausted gaze.

"What makes you think that I care?" he uttered quietly.

Then, without further delay, Ulquiorra plunged his hand deep into his chest. The flesh gave way with sickening ease, not nearly as durable as his own hierro had been. He felt the bones of his sternum crack and split at the invasion.

Like some twisted form of hideous irony, Ulquiorra could feel his fingers wrap around the boy's heart. It thumped once in his grasp and for one sick moment, he contemplated ripping it out from his body…and for another barbaric instant, he nearly did.

…until the image of the woman's tearful eyes crying up at him in the garden flashed through his memory.

She'd pleaded with him not to hurt him before, back when he'd first imprisoned Ichigo along with her.

Ulquiorra felt that awful ache reemerge in his chest, radiating around his Hollow hole like an unrelenting hunger.

This boy was an extension of her heart. He was a threat to Aizen's reign and an enemy that needed to be disposed of. He should kill him without hesitation, and yet…

Instead of eviscerating him where he knelt, Ulquiorra pulled his hand out slowly, blood and fragments of bone gushing out from the wound. He watched the way he fell forward with a hollow thump.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, it's pointless. You cannot defeat me. Even if you were lucky enough to succeed, there are three ranked above me who are much stronger than I. Try as many times as you like." Standing back up, he glanced down at the red staining his fingers, the liquid still warm with life. Slowly, he pocketed his hands at his sides. "The results will always be the same."

Ichigo gave no response. His only answer was the sound of his gurgled breaths as blood pooled under his body and surged from his lips like a flood. Like a switch had been turned off, the light slowly faded from his eyes, lashes frozen open as he lay dying.

"It appears that I have grossly overestimated you," he stated as he stared down at his twitching body. "Your development didn't meet my expectations."

Ulquiorra frowned at the wasted potential.

"This is the end, then." He turned to walk away. "If you can still move in that condition, leave Hueco Mundo immediately. If you can't move, then die there. No matter what, your path ends here, Soul Reaper…"

.

.

.

When Aizen had dropped the kido barrier around the gardens, Orihime had been confused. It wasn't until she'd been escorted to her tower near the pond and locked inside that she suspected something was wrong. The structure was old and the exterior was built with brick walls that had vines and ivy crawling up its sides, although the inside was warm and fitted with better furnishings than she'd ever had in the Fourth tower.

Since then, she had been keeping close track of the happenings outside the garden walls. No longer was their spiritual presence muddled from the interference of the barrier. Due to her training with Hachi, she had been able to detect minute traces of events and peoples' locations through Aizen's kido spell. Once it was gone, however, it allowed her senses to stretch fully. From Chad's sudden drop in spiritual pressure, to Renji facing off against the Octava Espada and then, worst of all, the moment Rukia fell in battle.

Orihime had rushed the door, banging on it with her fist. Though, it did little to help. The lock didn't budge.

"Let me out. Let me out of here, please, let me out," she had cried desperately. Flashes of the young woman echoed through Orihime's mind. Her dark midnight hair, her kind violet eyes, her indomitable spirit that always seemed to lift those around her.

Rukia had been there for her when others had not. She had sensed the inner turmoil eating Orihime from the inside out and had come to her aid, never once passing judgment. Only through Rukia's gentle coaxing had Orihime been able to pull herself out of her spiral of despair and jealousy.

To think one of her dear friends, who she had sacrificed her freedom for, had somehow fallen in her efforts to reach her and come to her rescue…Orihime literally couldn't take it. Guilt gnawed at her conscience, as well as a deep longing to reach the woman's side.

"Let me out…please! I must get out." Orihime's fist clenched against the solid door, her shoulders shaking as she held back her sobs. She could actually feel Rukia's heart reaching out to hers, far stronger than any of her other comrades – stronger than Ichigo's. She could sense it in the very marrow of her bones. Even as her spiritual pressure dwindled so low it could scarcely be detected, Rukia was still reaching out to her. "I can't take this…Rukia."

Tears flowed freely down Orihime's cheeks, dripping from her chin and falling to the floor.

Her heart screamed in agony, its threads reaching for the Shinigami woman like a last effort to redeem some hope and comfort her. Her friends were falling one by one, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it…

When she'd cried herself to exhaustion, Orihime made her way over to the couch and collapsed upon her knees. Folding her arms under her, she pressed her face into the cushions and sobbed quietly. She felt powerless.

Powerless and alone.

However, the deep, painful ache of loss that resonated within her when Rukia had fallen only expanded when she sensed Ulquiorra's spiritual presence close in on Ichigo.

She waited, holding her breath and frozen in fear as the minutes passed and then…

"K-Kurosaki-kun…" she breathed in disbelief.

Faster than all her other friends, his spiritual pressure vanished.

It hadn't been a slow dwindling like Chad's had been, or a steady fade into the void like Rukia's.

One minute it was there, and the next it was gone.

A cold rush of air swept over her, stealing the air from her lungs.

He couldn't be…her mind refused to believe what her senses were telling her. Chad and Rukia, she was certain were still alive, but Ichigo was almost assuredly…gone. It was impossible. He couldn't have fallen, not so quickly.

"No…" she breathed in denial. Her eyes widened in panic as she sensed Ulquiorra's presence slowly retreating from the scene. He couldn't have…

Ulquiorra, Orihime internally lamented. What have you done?

Orihime's heart was already in tatters, stretched to its limit by his callous words and the realization that her friends were all hurting because of her. Yet, when she frantically began to search out Ichigo's reiatsu, her own reiatsu almost frenzied in her hunt, only to come up empty-handed…the last remaining wisps of her heart crumbled in her chest.

Her tears seemed to freeze in her eyes, halting as a wave of numbness washed over her. The strong, deep love resonating within her for Ulquiorra suddenly snapped into irreparable pieces. A hollowness the likes of which she'd never known struck her as her fingers dug into the cushions of the couch.

"It can't be true," she whispered as she fell forward, hardly able to bear the weight of reality. "First it's Kuchiki-san…and now Kurosaki-kun. It can't be!"

A sudden noise at the door cut her short, and Orihime lifted her head at the sound.

"Ulquiorra?" she called, wondering if he had managed to return so quickly.

"Look at that, the princess is all by herself," a mocking, feminine voice intoned from the small opening in the doorway. It cracked further open, revealing the glaring rosette eye of Loly Aivirrne and Menoly Mallia's lone green one narrowed spitefully.

"Oh, Orihii–mee–" Giggling, their sneering voices reached out to her, sounding malicious despite the sing-song way they spoke. "Let's play a little game."

Against her will, a flashback of childhood surfaced in her mind. She felt like a little girl being cornered on the playground all over again, helpless as the other children bullied her ceaselessly and pulled at her hair.

Despite not inviting them, the two women slinked into the room and pressed their backs to the door as they closed it behind them. Menoly made a sound of taunting, taking in the extravagant layout of the room Aizen had granted her.

"Well, look at this," Loly began as they strolled forward. "You live in a fancy room, don't ya? You've sure moved up from your days in the Fourth tower. The Cuatro's company not cutting it for you anymore?"

"Yeah," Menoly echoed.

"Nice couch," Loly commented as she ran her hands over the lavish fabric, and then threw herself upon its softness to lounge there like she was the only one who deserved such luxuries. "It's a very nice room. I guess Lord Aizen must really like you a lot." She reached back to fluff the cushions with a bitter smile on her face. "Isn't that the truth, princess? You're the girl of the hour. Everybody is talking about you."

Orihime tensed and took a step back, trying to place some distance between them.

"You must be important. It's amazing that five people came to save their princess."

At her words, thoughts of Rukia, Ishida, Chad and Renji came to the forefront of her mind. Then Ichigo, who had fallen so quickly she feared he was gone forever. All of them; fighting, trying – suffering – just to reach her.

"No," she uttered and dropped her head in sadness.

"Since breaking out of that void, we've also heard another very interesting rumor floating around the palace." Reclining back, Loly stretched good and hard on the lush cushions. "I wonder if it's true…" When she trailed off and sent Orihime a knowing glare out of the corner of her eye, the red headed girl froze in fear when her line of sight dropped to her belly. "Judging from your reaction, I'd say it is." Loly snickered. "And here Lord Aizen still shows you favor by keeping you in his private garden like a little trinket he holds dear, despite fucking one of his soldiers like a disgusting harlot."

"Ulquiorra was the one who locked us in that Caja Negacion," Menoly hissed quietly where she stood off to the side, clearly still holding a grudge against him.

"He's also the father of that monster inside of you, too. Isn't he?" Loly expounded. "I wonder how he would react if he came back to find you bloodied and beaten to a pulp?"

Orihime gasped in shock.

"Tell me, princess Orihime, do you think that everybody should kneel down to worship you?" Loly hopped up to approach her as Menoly hung back, keeping her arms crossed as she watched the two. "Loser. Think you're special? Think you deserve all this attention? Huh?"

"I don't think that…" she whispered as they began closing in on her, backing her up to the wall.

"I'm sorry, what was that? You'll have to speak up, princess." Loly planted her hands on her hips as she strutted forward. "I couldn't hear what you said."

"I don't think that!" Orihime cried louder.

Loly laughed and looked back at her companion. "You hear that? You hear what she's saying? She says she doesn't think that."

"How shocking."

Suddenly, Loly's hand slammed onto the wall next to Oirhime's head, causing her to flinch. "Let me give you a little piece of advice, Miss Orihime," she drawled again as she reached her hand out to caress her hair. "Princess," she spat abruptly, and like a switch her gentle touch turned vicious as she pulled at her hair and threw her to the floor. "Don't start thinking you're so special! You're nothing but a human. You don't deserve the honor of being at Lord Aizen's side!"

The shock of having Loly's boot suddenly come down on her head froze Orihime in disbelief.

"What? Nothing to say?"

"What a pain in the ass." Menoly approached.

"Wanna beat her up?" Loly asked her companion.

"Sounds good to me."

"We'll stop when the baby starts crying."

Orihime's heart sank at those words, realizing what exactly it was they intended to do.

"An excellent idea!" Loly laughed maniacally. "Show us how ugly you are when you cry! Show us your ugly face!" Then, before Orihime could even fully absorb the reality unfolding before her, Loly's boot came down on her face again and again, stunning her before she could react.

Orihime's fists clenched as anger like she'd never known before began to boil under the surface. Ulquiorra had often stoked that anger to life in her, but he had rarely done anything that encouraged her to follow through with it. These women, however, were driving it deeper with every kick and wicked laugh.

She'd just lost most of her friends to enemy forces. Ichigo had fallen, along with many others. Ulquiorra had inflicted a wound so deep in her soul she feared it would never heal, and now these two – who'd already tried to poison her in the past – intended to hurt not only her, but her unborn child.

Instincts like Orihime had never felt before surged inside her, maternal and overbearing. A desire to protect flooded her veins stronger than ever before. Her arms remained wrapped tightly over her abdomen, guarding the area protectively against further onslaught.

Scowling up at the two, she was on the brink of lashing out when she saw her opportunity to run. Rolling away from the pair, she quickly got to her feet and ran for the door, only to have a blast of energy stop her. It exploded the wall and sent her careening back onto the floor.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Loly pouted. "We just dropped by to visit and it looked like you were pretty anxious to go outside, so I thought I'd help out and open the door for you. But I guess I must have overdone it a bit."

Orihime turned back to them, glaring in anger.

"Do you have something you want to say?" Loly stepped closer and crossed her arms haughtily. "Well don't just sit there like that. If you have something to say then spit it out."

"We promise we'll be nice and listen to you. After all, we're not monsters."

"If you don't have any business with me, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave." Orihime glared harder.

Both of their eyes widened in shock at the audacity.

"Just who the hell do you think you are, princess?" Loly knelt down in front of her. "What do you think?" she asked back at Menoly.

"It's worth a try," she answered, holding up a staticky ball of condensed energy.

"We need your help with Menoly's cero. It's not working too well, she can't control it. Sometimes it just shoots out all on its own! In fact, it's gotten so bad, if you're not careful you might get hit by mistake! It's totally different from the bala I shot just a few minutes ago. If this one hits you, it could very easily kill you."

"I see," Orihime lowered her head, her brow furrowed in anger. "You're so desperate to get Lord Aizen's attention that you would go this far...I can tell you right now, that man isn't worth it. "

"Listen girl, don't you talk about Lord Aizen! Don't you even dare speak his name!" she shouted hysterically. "You don't fool me, you're so full of yourself because sometimes you get to speak to him directly. Well that's not gonna fly with me you little twit!" Loly gripped her chin harshly.

When Orihime only met her stare with a rebellious one of her own, Loly lost whatever frayed bits of control she had left on her hysteria.

"Cut the attitude! I can read your face! Get on your feet!" She yanked her up, gripping the front of her dress tightly.

"Stop it, please." Orihime reached out and forcefully removed the woman's grasp. She was fully capable of fighting back against them, but would have preferred not to. Their lack of awareness was almost pitiful, and Orihime would have rather avoided a fight altogether.

Her resistance, however, was not well taken.

Loy lashed out and slapped her hard across the face and Orihime fell back against the couch.

"You're pathetic and weak. There's no way a mere human can stand up against an Arrancar's strength. I told you, stop acting like you're better than me!" she shouted angrily. "You think you're so hot! I'm going to make sure you never see Lord Aizen again!"

"Loly!" Menoly interrupted. "I think she got the message. If you take things too far we'll get in trouble. Don't you remember what happened before? Ulquiorra trapped us in that void…if you hurt her and that baby, Lord Aizen will kill us for sure if Ulquiorra doesn't get to us first!"

"Just shut it, alright! If you don't have the guts for this then you can leave!" she growled back. Her grip on reality and the consequences were slipping further the more her hysteria grew.

Menoly gasped. "What are you doing, Loly!? I want her and even Ulquiorra to pay just as much, but I don't want to kill her! She's pregnant! What's wrong with you?" she stated in disgust.

Before the situation could spiral any further than it already had, a massive explosion erupted behind them. The wall to her room was blown wide open and sent Menoly flying forward, barely able to catch herself from hitting the floor. Dust and smoke clouded the air, and the girls gasped in unison as a pair of boots stepped into the room, utterly heedless of the rubble.

"Grimmjow," Loly blinked in shock at the sight of his blue hair coming into view.

"Well…am I interrupting? I see you two waltzed right in while Ulquiorra wasn't around…though I guess he's not really her warden anymore, huh. Looks to me like you're having a little fun at someone's expense."

"So, what of it?" Loly rebutted, seeing no fault in her actions. "It's our business. And how did you get in here anyway? This is Lord Aizen's personal garden. It's not like you would have access to it."

"What do you mean, how? Through the wall, of course," he drawled derisively, completely overlooking the illogical fact he'd just blown a hole into her room when the door itself was wide open for him to use.

"Why didn't you use the door, smart ass?" Loly bit back.

"Well, I would have. But somebody seems to have blasted the thing to bits and ruined the entrance. I don't suppose you have any idea who might have done that?" When he looked down and suddenly saw Orihime on the floor, battered and bruised, his blue eyes flashed dangerously.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them quickly. Menoly edged back when she saw he was closing in on Loly with a livid gleam in his eye.

Grimmjow took one last look at Orihime and, without further comment, flung his arm out to the side, backhanding Loly across the room. "Get lost." He scowled at her. When she cried out and landed roughly on the ground, Grimmjow glanced at her over his shoulder. "My bad, I guess I used a little too much force."

Struggling to sit up, Loly coughed and wheezed in pain.

"Grimmjow!" Menoly rushed forward to avenge her friend, her red cero balled in her fist – only to have the man stop it with ease. With an arrogant smirk, he clasped her small hand in his larger one, overpowering her cero with one of his own. With ease, he blasted her back into the opposite wall, shredding her body in the process.

"That was dangerous. You have to learn to use your cero more carefully."

"Menoly!" Loly cried out. "You won't get away with this. Lord Aizen's gonna make you pay big time when he finds out what you've done!"

Grimmjow turned to her, gazing down at her like he was looking upon scum that had soiled his boots.

"Stop!" Loly protested when he began approaching. "Don't you come near me! I'm serious! What are you going to do? Get away from me! No! NO!" she screamed in fear.

"Boo!" he suddenly shouted down to her, causing her to flinch, scream, and then cover her head with her hands like a helpless child. "You're such an idiot."

"Lord Aizen will kill you. Ya hear me? He'll wipe you out," she continued on, never stopping her mad ramblings even in the face of an Espada that could kill her with a stomp of his boot. "There won't be a trace of you left when he's done!" Tired of her deranged nonsense, Grimmjow lifted his foot and did just that, relishing in her pained scream before she finally fell unconscious.

"What morons. Like Aizen would give two shits for a couple of worthless pissants like you."

"Grimmjow-kun," Orihime called from her place on the floor. "Why…are you helping me?"

Slowly, his eyes slid back to her.

"You owe me a debt, remember?"

Orihime suddenly blushed and recalled all the times she'd encountered the brutal man during her time in Las Noches. From when she'd healed his arm in the throne room, to all the instances he'd come to her unlikely rescue, and even all the times he was the one she sometimes needed rescuing from.

Despite all the times he'd tormented her, he had also been there for her on more occasions than she could truly count. He'd saved her from Nnoitra before, and picked her up and forced her to move on when she'd thought Ulquiorra had been killed by Patros. He'd carried her to the infirmary when she was on the brink of miscarriage in the halls and helped her free Ulquiorra from his imprisonment.

Now, again, he'd come to her aid when she least expected him to.

"Grimmjow-kun…"

Gritting his teeth at the way his name on her lips affected him, he reached down and gripped the front of her dress, lifting her off the floor. For a moment, he recalled a time when he'd have wrapped his fingers around her throat, instead. Now, he was careful not to hurt her, despite the urge inside him to do so.

"Don't act so shocked. Did you think I came here just to save you? Stupid girl… Now that I've gotten those pests out of the way, you have no excuse to turn me down." He smirked up at her. "Aside from collecting on your debt, there's also a small favor in need in return for getting you out of this mess. There's something I need you to help me with."

When he set her down, he felt some of the aggression and adrenaline from earlier settle somewhat. He took a moment to look at her as she stood before him, moonlight illuminating the cuts and bruises that decorated her delicate visage.

Despite having been a source of similar injuries in the past, he frowned at the sight of them.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out her two barrettes.

"My…my fairies," she breathed in bewilderment.

"I lifted these from one of the vaults. Now, heal all those injuries on your face," he told her and she blinked up at him in surprise. When she didn't move, and only continued to stare up at him with her watery, soulful brown eyes, Grimmjow frowned. "I want you to get rid of them now."

As she reached forward and brushed her fingers over his upturned palm, Grimmjow grit his teeth against the tremors it sent down his spine. Carefully she fastened them back into her hair and touched them. For a moment, he thought she was going to obey, but when Loly stirred to life off to the side, she abruptly turned from him and rushed to her side.

"Hey!" he called out incredulously.

Hands resting in his pockets, he watched in bafflement as she proceeded to heal the Arrancar female who'd just attacked her. Even when the little viper lashed out and smacked her across the cheek, Orihime still called for her shield to heal her and the blonde who laid in literal pieces on the other end of the room.

Confusion didn't even begin to describe his thoughts on the girl and her illogical show of mercy.

He shouldn't have been shocked. She'd shown him that same forgiving nature time and again. Still, it grated on his nerves to see her so careless with that compassion when healing a pair of bottom feeding bitches the likes of Loly and Menoly.

Ignoring the whispers of 'monster' and 'unbelievable' from Loly's gaping mouth, Grimmjow stepped forward and grabbed Orihime by the back of her neck and shoved her harshly out into the hall, his firm hand guiding her stumbling strides as she tried to keep up.

"Now that you got that little show of charity out of your system, get a move on." Grimmjow sighed in annoyance, shoving her forward once before he continued on ahead to lead the way.

When she merely followed silently behind him without protest, he couldn't help his deepening scowl. Glancing at her over his shoulder, he noticed she still hadn't even tried to heal herself.

"Dammit, are you going to fix your face or not, princess?" he scowled again.

Blinking out of her apparent trance, Orihime reached up to touch her busted lip.

"I…I forgot about it," she stated as she called forth her fairies, their light glow mending the damage she'd been dealt.

"Well fix it…you look like shit." He closed his eyes in frustration. "No way I'm kissing someone with a face like that." He tried to hide his concern behind insults, though he wondered how successful he was. It wasn't like he had any experience with emotions like concern. Suppressing the shiver of disgust that ran up the back of his neck, he tried to bury the thoughts altogether.

For a moment, he didn't even notice when she abruptly stopped at his use of the word 'kiss'.

When he did catch on that she was no longer following along behind him, Grimmjow stopped and turned to face her.

He took the chance to look at her long and hard, drinking in the sight of her where they'd stopped in the garden. It was darker there, shaded and full of trees that weren't as neatly trimmed as the rest. The path they were on led out the back of the gardens, a rear entrance that didn't see much use even from the servants.

"Thank you for saving me, Grimmjow-kun," she stated as she approached him.

He eyed her closely, highly aware of her every step as she closed the gap between them. Her brown eyes shimmered in the daylight in a way he couldn't recall seeing in her before. He'd only ever had encounters with her in the familiar darkness of Hueco Mundo, outside the dome and all of its bright sunlight. Even in the shade of the trees, she still managed to stun him with the soft, pretty smile on her lips.

Grimmjow swallowed hard when she stood before him and gazed up into his eyes.

"I did promise you a kiss." She smiled sweetly, albeit a bit sadly.

His eyes suddenly widened when she reached up and gently cupped his face with her hands.

Frozen in place, she pulled him down with sickening ease, controlling him like a puppet on her strings. No one had touched him like that before, so mild and soft. Her palms were so smooth, unmarred by callouses. She sent tingles from their point of contact, and a strange sense of calm as the tips of her fingers brushed the hair behind his ears.

This wasn't how he pictured this would go. That she would be the one to kiss him. Yet he felt helpless to it, regardless.

His eyes fell heavy-lidded, and the creases on his brow smoothed out as he relaxed unconsciously.

Just as she was a hair's breadth away, his senses seemed to return to him. Ripping his hands out of his pockets, he took hold of her wrists and slammed her back against the trunk of a nearby tree.

"If we're doing this, it's gonna be done my way," he growled down at her. "I won't let you get out of this with some pathetic little chaste kiss, princess."

Orihime gasped as her back hit the tree hard, her hands pinned over her head helplessly. Brown eyes that had once been sweet and inviting, now turned wide and fearful at the sight of him looming over her.

He was much taller than Ulquiorra, and his frame much wider. Though he was certainly not unattractive, he was intimidating in a way that set her on edge. He was handsome and virile in a manner all his own, so unlike Ulquiorra's dark masculine beauty. Strong muscles, chiseled features and striking blue markings surrounding his equally blue eyes – he was often violent, and he'd pushed her around and bruised her enough times in the past for her to keep her guard up whenever he was nearby.

Now, at his mercy, Orihime trembled slightly at the thought of what he would do.

Ulquiorra had sharp teeth, like needley pin pricks that could tear into her effortlessly – but Grimmjow's were practically predatory, like endless rows of razors. He showed them off any chance he could get with his arrogant grins and maniacal laughter.

"G-Grimmjow-kun," she breathed shakily.

At the sound of his name on her lips, he stepped forward, closing the space between them and pressing himself close. When one of his hands dropped from her wrists to cup the side of her face, Orihime flinched and clenched her eyes shut, expecting the worst.

She missed the way his features softened, and how he hesitated over her when he was finally so close to claiming his prize.

Though his touch was not necessarily gentle, Orihime was startled by the effort she felt him putting into caressing her cheek. His fingers brushed through her hair and pulled her face carefully back around to his, her eyes still squeezed tightly shut.

When the seconds ticked by and he failed to ravish her mouth in the way she had been expecting, she peeked one of her eyes open.

"Grimmjow-kun?" she called in confusion, taking in the sight of his blue eyes staring down at her longingly.

"Princess," he practically groaned his nickname for her, pining and long-suffering desire dripping from every syllable on his voice.

Orihime sucked in a breath of air, unsure how to react to the pure need radiating off him. She hadn't expected it, not in a million years.

Careful of his claws, his thumb brushed down her jaw to trace over her mouth.

"You're so beautiful…" he sounded in near pain, burning in a way she did not think the man was capable of. "Let me kiss you…" Tugging her chin forward, he waited until she caved to his request before he finally dipped down to cover her lips with his own.

Grimmjow practically purred at the little noise that erupted in the back of her throat from the contact. Like a wave of uncontrollable need, his instincts roared at him to claim what was in front of him, in his very hands – by any means necessary.

However, the urge to taste her outweighed all else, even the aggressive yearning inside him to pin her to the tree with his hips and feel her the way he'd always longed to.

Not wanting to scare her away, he kissed her cautiously, moving his lips with hers in a slow and coaxing manner. When he lightly trailed his tongue along her bottom lip, she whimpered and he groaned at her taste. Dropping his hand from her wrists, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"G-Grimmjow…kun…" she panted and he took advantage of her parted lips, plunging his tongue inside.

"Oh fuck…" he breathed into her mouth, scarcely getting the words out between the lavish swipes of his tongue. "You taste like honey. No wonder Ulquiorra couldn't get enough of you."

Angling his head over her more fully, he pressed his mouth to hers harder. He reached his tongue into her deep, savoring every quivering gasp and tremble that went through her body. He probed between her lips and teeth, even raking the appendage over the roof of her mouth to ensure he sampled all of her.

Lowering her hands from overhead, she gripped his jacket tightly and held on for dear life as he drank his fill of her. He leaned over her heavily, dominating her smaller form easily.

Grimmjow didn't once mind that she wasn't kissing him back, just that she was letting him have his way, obediently opening her mouth to him and tilting her head back to grant him better access as he thrust himself into her again and again. It was everything he'd wanted and more…and still he thirsted for more.

He wanted more of her soft, cushiony tongue pressing against his. He wanted more of her lush breasts pressed tightly to his chest as he crushed her in his arms. He wanted the flavor of her sweet and dewy mouth to linger on his taste buds longer. He wanted to inhale every one of her gasps and pants, burning his lungs with their heat.

She was so warm, so sweet and so gentle that he groaned into her mouth, lusting after her in a way he'd never known before.

When it became too much for her, she pressed lightly against his chest, her firm breasts heaving with the lack of air. It took every ounce of his willpower to pull away and run his lips covetously down the length of her throat.

"I'd fuck you right now if you'd let me, princess," he confessed gruffly against her ear. Internally, he wondered if he would change for her, too. Would he forsake the war if she let him have her? Was he even capable of it? He knew he wasn't, but still…

"Gr-Grimmjow-kun…I…" The tentative pressure of her clenched fists pushing against his chest was his answer.

Closing his eyes in defeat, he wasn't surprised in the least by her rejection. Still, tearing himself away from her warmth was harder than he'd anticipated.

"Yeah, yeah," he sighed and leaned back, granting her request for space. "I get it."

"I…I'm sorry," she lowered her eyes guiltily as the full weight and truth of his feelings hit her. She hadn't seen it. Not until that moment. "I know all too well how it feels to have your love unrequited."

Grimmjow laughed down at her and shocked her with his next move. Ripping her hands from his jacket, he flipped her around and pressed her front to the tree he'd backed her up against.

"Love? Getting a little ahead of yourself, huh?" he taunted in his usual arrogant voice, though she didn't miss the roughness wavering its edges. When he pulled out a small length of chain from his pocket and proceeded to tie her wrists behind her back, Orihime wriggled in protest.

"What are you-?!"

"Don't get yer panties in a twist," he barked down at her. "I'm not going to do anything to ya. This is just insurance to make sure you don't get any ideas about running off."

"Where are you going to take me?" she asked, feeling a little panicked when he then reached up and suddenly stuffed a piece of fabric into her mouth. He wrapped it around her face and tied it at the back of her head. Her muffled protests only made him chuckle in amusement.

"Though I won't deny the idea of having you tied up underneath me isn't appealing…I honestly can't stand how much you run your mouth sometimes. This is just to give me some peace and quiet."

The glare she shot him over his shoulder earned her a hearty laugh.

Before she could growl out any retorts on the matter, an old bed sheet had been tossed over her head and she felt Grimmjow lift her from the ground, throwing her over his shoulder.

"Just hold tight, princess…we got a bit of a distance to cover…"

If Orihime had thought experiencing sonido when she wasn't pregnant had been bad, now it was absolutely atrocious. Any and all complaints died in her throat as she fell silent, merely trying to keep the contents of her stomach down as he carried her to a destination unknown.

.

.

.

When Grimmjow slammed his foot down onto the ground in front of the sniveling ex-Tres Espada, sneering out a harsh command for her to beat it, he didn't expect the level of frustration that assaulted him at the sight of Kurosaki's lifeless corpse.

The kid was basically dead, or as close to it as a human could get.

Strolling forward, his shadow fell over the Shinigami's limp body before he abruptly kicked him in the side. The kick sent him skidding across the dirt-ridden floor before he rolled to a stop on his back. There, in the center of his chest, was hole the size of a fist.

That bastard Ulquiorra had overstepped…he'd taken Grimmjow's prey for his own, and that was something he wouldn't tolerate.

"Keh…I figured things would be like this," he remarked. Shifting the girl under his arm, Nel cried out in concern when he tossed her towards her comrade, ripping the sheet off of her in the process.

Unable to stop her momentum, Orihime landed on her knees and braced herself with her tied hands. Like a shock to the system, she suddenly realized she was leaning directly in front of her lifeless friend. He vacantly stared up at her with wide, dull brown eyes, void of luster and vitality. No breath moved his chest and not a spark of reiatsu was anywhere on his countenance.

Orihime felt her world crumble.

He looked like a corpse, eyes frozen open upon his time of death.

"Kurosaki-kun," she called his name in grief when Grimmjow untied her gag and chains.

"You know what I brought you here to do," he said as he moved off to the side to sit on a pile of rubble. "Now heal him."

Orihime's mouth parted in shock as she looked back at him. His blue gaze met hers coldly, steadily, not a single trace of the passionate desire left in him that he'd displayed to her before.

"Ichigo was only trying to protect Nel and he took a hit from a nasty cero!" the young girl shouted up from her place on the floor and Orihime dragged her eyes over to her, not recognizing her. "And it wasn't just that! He was trying his best to keep Nel from getting hurt and took a horrible kick!" she continued to cry and Orihime found her eyes watering along with her. Ichigo had done his best to come back for her, and had clearly been attempting to protect this child along the way. Turning back to her friend, she quickly spread out her healing shield and got to work. She honestly didn't know if she could save him, but she would put every ounce of her power into trying.

"Nel was just a burden on Ichigo! Nel only got in the way! If Nel wasn't around, Ichigo would be alright. It's all because Nel's here!" the child wailed frantically. Orihime hardened her focus, trying to drown out the girl's endless and heartfelt crying. She felt determination grip her spirit and she doubled her efforts. "These bad things only happened to him because he tried to save Nel! It's all Nel's doing that Ichigo has gone away. You've got to save him please!"

"Quiet!" Grimmjow suddenly shouted, his patience snapping at her obnoxious caterwauling. "You keep on crying like that and you'll be picking your teeth up off the ground. That clear to you, kid?" He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he glared at her.

Holding back her whimpers with little success, Nel nodded once in understanding. Her chin quivered as she hiccuped in her restraint to keep her despair in check.

"You can stop all your damn noise. He's going to be healed anyway."

Their voices faded into the background as Orihime struggled to mend Ichigo. She stared down at his prone form, still not moving where he rested on the ground. Had Ulquiorra truly done this to him? How could he have gone so far?

Her heart ached in her chest, not wanting to believe the truth in front of her eyes. Yet, she had known since the beginning who her warden fought for, what side he was on. Still, her naivety had hoped for a different outcome…

Hope sprung inside her when she realized Ichigo wasn't dead…merely pushed to the brink of it. It was as if Ulquiorra had done so intentionally, though she could not fathom why. Clearly if he'd wanted to kill the boy, it would have been easy for him to do so.

Had he held back?

There's an incredible amount of spirit energy swirling around Ichigo's wounds, Orihime thought as her eyes narrowed, almost seeing its actual presence around the hole. I can't…reject it. Was this…Ulquiorra's reiatsu? Blocking off any hope the boy had of recovering. I don't understand…why would he do such a thing?!

Almost as if he could read the despair radiating off her in waves, Grimmjow eyed her closely. "It was Ulquiorra," he answered her unspoken thoughts, causing her to gasp and look back at him. "He's got a style of fighting that is his and his alone," he further explained. "It's very particular to him, like a signature. But I doubt he's aware of it. When he finds prey who catch his eye, he stabs them in the same spot where his own hole is."

"Ulquiorra…" Orihime whispered sadly at the revelation.

"Still think he's someone you can change, princess?" He arched a brow at her dispirited response. Standing up, he clenched his fists tightly at his sides, his true ire at the situation shining through for the first time. "I'm going to teach him something about the nature of punishment…for taking someone else's prey."

On the floor, Ichigo's hand twitched, stopping everyone short.

Blinking back into consciousness, Ichigo gasped in a short breath as if awaking from the dead. For a moment he stared at the ceiling, wondering if he was actually alive or not. One minute he'd been lost in a sea of darkness, and the next he was awake again. Tilting his head back, he looked up at Inoue with wide-eyed bewilderment.

"It's…Inoue?" he stated, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. Yet, there she was, smiling back at him through the soft glow of her shield.

"Kurosaki-kun!" she said in relief as Nel climbed up her shoulder to greet him, as well.

"Shut your mouth, princess!" Grimmjow bit out irately. "If you have time to make a fuss, then just heal him already!"

"What the-?" Ichigo muttered, confused beyond reason at the current happenings that were unfolding around him. "Grimmjow? Why are you with Inoue?"

"Shut up, Kurosaki! She's healing you, alright? And when you're completely healed, you and I are going one on one, Soul Reaper," he growled impatiently.

"It can't be true!" Orihime protested, feeling betrayed, despite herself. How foolish of her to think he may have actually wanted to help them because he'd actually changed. "Is that the only reason you want him to heal?"

"Quit all your complaining!" he shouted back, the wild look she knew all too well returning to his eyes. This was the Grimmjow she knew, and Orihime glowered back at him in disbelief. "If it wasn't for me letting you save his life, he'd be dead. Now get to work!"

Instead of caving to his demands, she stood resolutely.

"Hurry! Ulquiorra will catch on to what's happening sooner or later and come back, and before he does-"

Orihime physically recoiled when the harsh, static grinding of sonido interrupted Grimmjow's tirade. In the blink of an eye, Ulquiorra's dark shadow stood behind him, his lean form barricading the lone exit.

"Ulquiorra," Grimmjow hissed over his shoulder.

From his place on the floor, Ichigo felt his body tremble in unfamiliar fear at the sight of the man. His nervous system apparently recalled his brutality, regardless of how his pride rebelled at the way his skin shivered against his will.

When Ulquiorra took a step forward, his eyes drifted over to Orihime when she instantly withdrew from his presence. Her physical reaction was so strong that it made his eyes narrow in on her like a magnet, analyzing the way her shoulders curled in on themselves as if she wanted to disappear from his sight.

"What's going on here?" he questioned as he redirected his gaze back to Grimmjow. His hands were in his pockets as he scrutinized the occupants of the room one by one, taking stock of the situation. When no one dared to answer, his frown dipped marginally. "What are you doing?"

Still nothing.

Walking forward, he pinned the Sexta Espada with a cold stare. "It seems like a simple question. Perhaps I need to rephrase it. Why are you healing an enemy I already defeated?"

Grimmjow smirked.

"You refuse to answer?"

When he glanced once more at Orihime to find her looking at him like she were looking upon a stranger she didn't recognize, Ulquiorra felt his fist clench in his pockets. Their gazes lingered longer as he searched her eyes, barely understanding his own desire to see the love and affection she used to look upon him with. He looked for the gleam of that intangible thing she'd always seemed to carry around like it was just a natural part of herself.

However, instead of beholding the deep adoration he'd once seen in her eyes as he devoured her every confession of love, all he saw was bitter anger – betrayal – love that had been struck down by his own treacherous hand.

'We'll see if you are still willing to offer me such a thing when I finish off Ichigo Kurosaki…' he had told her, warned her. He knew the inevitable outcome, and it still rattled him against his will.

When she actually turned and broke eye contact with him, severing the connection of her own accord, Ulquiorra's jaw tightened in response, his brows narrowing down in a faint display of his ire at her rejection.

"Fine," he stated with calm finality, annoyed with how his own voice was beginning to betray him. As he looked back at Grimmjow, the smug grin on his face spoke to the fact he was reading the room all too well – and enjoying every second of it. "Have it your way. Regardless, I was ordered to finish Ichigo Kurosaki once and for all."

"And a piss poor job you've done. He's still alive."

"Because you've interfered."

"What of it?" Grimmjow chuckled.

"Nothing. I will let our Master deal with you accordingly since you have seen fit to go against his direct commands. However, the bottom line is Lord Aizen has entrusted that girl to my care. Hand her over."

At this, Grimmjow really laughed.

"Don't kid yourself, Ulquiorra. She hasn't been yours for a while now."

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Ulquiorra didn't fail to pick up on the insinuation.

"Are you trying to provoke me, Grimmjow?" he asked quietly. "Hand her over."

"I don't think I will."

"What did you say?" he said with such quiet danger that chills ran down Orihime's spine.

"You heard me," Grimmjow replied, utterly basking in the reactions he was enticing from the pale man. He'd dreamt of the day he could get under Ulquiorra's skin the way he was currently succeeding at. Decades and decades of taunts had never gotten him this far, and it was just too good to resist. "Just so there's no mistaking my intentions, I brought her here to heal Kurosaki so I can fight him…but don't think for one second that I didn't also bring her here to see your handiwork up close and personal."

Behind them, Orihime gasped in shock.

"I take immense pleasure in seeing her heart breaking right before your eyes, Ulquiorra. I always told you she'd hate you once she realized what a bastard you really were. I wanted her to get a good, close look at what you can do. And from the looks of it, she isn't impressed." Slowly, Ulquiorra's eyes widened at his words. "What do you think, Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow taunted, lowering his voice until only the Cuatro Espada could catch his next words. "How much do you think she actually hates you?"

Like the snapping of a thread, spiritual pressure flooded the room like an ocean opening up above their heads.

"That's the face I was wanting to see…" Grimmjow grinned to himself, his own eyes darkening at the fire burning behind Ulquiorra's merciless, green gaze. "Get a good look, princess!" he called back over his shoulder, though he never once took his eyes off the enemy in front of him.

"Inoue!" Ichigo coughed on the ground behind her, his voice barely registering in her ears as she watched the scene unfolding around her. "You need…to get back," he gritted the words out painfully.

At her shoulder, Nel had fallen off and landed on the floor under the force of the reiatsu bearing down on them. Orhiime's own knees wobbled at the might. She trembled where she stood, feeling the extent of Ulquiorra's strength for the first time. She had always known he was strong, but she somehow wondered if the thick oppression that condensed the air around them right now was even the full extent of his powers. For some unknown reason, she knew it was just the tip of the iceberg…

"I'm going to be the one to defeat Kurosaki!" Grimmjow suddenly announced. "But just so you're clear about my position here, let me demonstrate!"

Launching himself forward, Grimmjow threw a reiatsu-charged fist straight for Ulquiorra's face. Not once flinching from the attack, Ulquiorra lifted his arm and blocked him with ease.

"Don't think I don't know what's going on with you, Ulquiorra! You're off your game, I can see it!" he jeered with a wicked smile. "You're scared of fighting me! You're afraid you'll lose and be crushed!"

Rushing forward, the blast exploded in their faces and sent Ulquiorra jumping back to avoid the damage.

"Ha! You deflected that one! How many will it take before I get you?"

In the blink of an eye, Ulquiorra appeared above Grimmjow's head, a cero firing up on the tip of his finger. Taking him off guard, Grimmjow lifted his hand and forced his palm into the energy point-blank. Ulquiorra's eyes widened in shock at the man's complete lack of caution. Throwing it to the wind, he barrelled forward into the attack, absorbing the subsequent explosion that sent both of them careening out of the tower. It blew open the walls, and completely blasted off the ceiling. Smoke was sent billowing out into the bright sunlight outside.

Lowering his arm from where he'd raised it to deflect the shockwave, Ulquiorra frowned when Grimmjow used the cloud as a smokescreen to slip up behind him.

Clawed hands reached around to pull back his ripped jacket, exposing his Hollow hole beneath. Too late, he felt the Caja Negacion sink into that inky void in his chest. There was no escaping the ribbons of blackness that wrapped around him, encasing him in their dark arms.

"Dammit," he hissed under his breath.

For once, the Sexta Espada had been right.

Ulquiorra was off his game…

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TBC

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Thank you, truly, for all your reviews.