The Furthest Planet From The Sun

by Mahi-Mahi

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

29. Chapter 29

..

…

CHAPTER 29

…

..

The dusty aftermath took its time to clear from the open air. It billowed out into the blue sky where the breeze eventually had its way with it, carrying it into the distance.

Orihime staggered forward a few steps when her shield finally shattered from where she'd erected it to protect them. Above the remnants of the tower, Grimmjow floated back down onto its demolished surface. When the sky eventually cleared, Ulquiorra was nowhere to be seen.

"Ulqui…orra?" Her eyes stared up in worry, searching for his familiar presence.

Seeing her look of concern, Grimmjow chuckled. "Don't worry, princess. I didn't kill him, though I'm surprised you still care."

"What...did you just do up there?" Orihime asked, trying and failing to hide the way her shoulders relaxed in relief at the news.

"Aizen gave each one of the Espada something called the Caja Negacion that we can use to punish subordinates. I used mine just now."

"Caja Negacion?" she inquired further, echoing the phrase with a questioning lilt. She recalled Loly and Menoly mentioning something about such a thing previously and how Ulquiorra had trapped them inside.

"It's a powerful tool that can seal away the victim into another dimension, but its power is limited. It's not made to be used against Espada. Considering the strength of his Spiritual Pressure, we've got two or three hours before he breaks free. There's no time to waste. So, come on! Hurry up and heal your friend."

Drawn back to the matter at hand, Orihime hardened her features into a look of stern resistance. "I won't."

Taken back by her audacity, Grimmjow moved before she could even see his strike coming. He grabbed her throat, shocking the breath from her lungs. "Perhaps you didn't hear what I said, but it wasn't a request. Get to work!" he raged.

Pursing her lips, Orihime allowed the tidal wave of disappointment and heartache to wash over her at being the victim of his old habits. She could still vividly remember the way he had kissed her in the garden. However, the wild-eyed man that stood before her now barely resembled the one who'd so cautiously asked for her kiss.

Lifting her hand to grab his wrist, she raised her eyes to his. There were no tears or anger, only sad disappointment reflecting in her brown orbs. They shone brightly in the sunlight, causing Grimmjow to pause for a moment at that look.

He'd seen it many times before – after each occasion he'd given her a new bruise, back when he never quite realized the effect his rage had on the fragile mortal girl.

Setting her hand gently over the one on her throat, Orihime let the emotions flow before carefully reining them in. It would do her no good to block them out. Nor would it benefit her to allow them to wash over her without restraint. Instead, she allowed herself to feel and process them, and then moved on. Digging her fingers in slightly, because she knew he could take it, Orihime frowned at him and looked him dead in the eye. He could push her around all he wanted, she wasn't going to cave this time.

"I refuse."

Grimmjow literally blinked in open shock. Her defiance momentarily jarred him, and a breath of disbelief left his lips in a sharp exhale. He'd seen that look on her once before…back in the arena when he'd pushed her to her breaking point and she actually fought against him like a real warrior. Her eyes were currently sparking with that same indomitable fire, insolent even in the face of inevitable defeat.

"If I heal Kurosaki-kun, you'll just turn around and hurt him some more! I won't do it!"

"You damn bitch…" His grip tightened unconsciously, and then immediately loosened upon hearing her raspy breath.

Reaching her other hand up, she held to his wrist as she glared up at him in an unspoken challenge. She could feel the hesitancy in his hold, and even the way he'd quickly amended his tight grip. He wasn't digging his claws into her like he used to, he wasn't using pressure, nor had he even lifted her off the ground.

He couldn't hurt her, didn't want to hurt her, and she knew it.

From the visible war of anger and frustration inside him, it seemed as if Grimmjow also knew she knew.

Before either could make another move, Ichigo's battered hand suddenly landed on Grimmow's forearm. He could scarcely stand, but he'd come to her defense regardless.

"Let go of her." With what little strength he had left, he tossed Grimmjow's arm away from her.

"Kurso-"

"Inoue…" he interrupted her, stopping any further protests on her part as she stared at his back. He couldn't even stand up straight, yet he'd come to her aid yet again, no matter that he was still suffering. "Please, heal me. I'm asking you to heal my wounds…and I want you to heal his, as well."

Looking down, they could all see that Grimmjow's right arm was nearly incinerated by the cero Ulquiorra had aimed at him. The skin was scorched and unsightly, crispy black and still smoking from the damage he'd sustained.

"Listen, kid. You'll find that's a big mistake. I don't need your pity." Grimmjow sneered back at them.

"It's not pity. I assume you want us both to fight at our full strength, right? Or am I mistaken? Do you plan to use your injuries as an excuse when you finally lose?"

Grimmjow's eyes widened at the taunt. Lightning fast, he drew Pantera and their swords clashed briefly in a show of bravado. "Alright then, bring it on. Let's have a fight to the death."

When they finally separated, Orihime tried to suppress her growing trepidation with little success. Though her heart was always with her friends, pain was quickly lancing itself through her chest with every subsequent battle fought between her friends and the residents of Las Noches. Using Ichigo's wounds as an excuse to not heal him was just another front on her part to avoid allowing either of the men to fight…not just Ichigo.

Grimmjow, despite his many flaws, had still dug out a home for himself in her heart as much as Wonderweiss and the others had.

She didn't want to see either of them fight. Especially not after what Ulquiorra had done…

"Sounds good to me," Ichigo said, and Orihime felt the resignation settle over her like a bitter pill she was forced to swallow. Her shoulders sank slightly, realizing there was no stopping it, no avoiding the inevitable.

It was clear by this point that this war was going to hurt far more than she had ever imagined it could…on both ends.

The most she could do now was brace herself and stay strong for her friends and her unborn child. Leaving Hueco Mundo was the only chance she had to keep it safe, and Ichigo was on her side, he always had been. He'd sworn to himself and her that he would come back for her and lead them to freedom.

Her faith in him was stronger than it ever had been, and yet…

The thought of leaving Ulquiorra behind, the father of the small life twinkling inside her like a little star, tore her in two.

He still didn't know. Despite his attempts to push her away in the garden, the existence of that tiny life inside her was one fact he would never be able to push away. He could deny the depth of his feelings for her all he wanted, but he needed to know the truth.

Ulquiorra had frequently run hot and cold in the past, particularly after any encounters they had where she had delved a little too deeply under his skin, or instances where he'd held her a little too intensely at night. However, the behavioral shift from the night she'd broken him out of the dungeons, to the callous way he deliberately pushed her away made her…skeptical.

The shift was too drastic, even for him. Like a relapse, devolving into the uncaring Arrancar she'd known him to be when he'd first stolen her.

His coldness had never quite dwindled in all that time, yet after each ever-intensifying encounter, he always came back for more. Each time, he came back softer than the last. His looks lingered longer, his frowns at her talk of hearts weren't quite as deep, and his apparent distaste for her kiss became an eventual fixation.

Orihime didn't want to see Ichigo fight Grimmjow any more than she had wanted to see him fight Ulquiorra.

Looking down in defeat, Orihime called out her fairies and sent them to work healing the men.

"Come on, Nel. Don't be like that," Ichigo said as Nel began crying. Kneeling down, he patted her head reassuringly. "The same goes for you, Inoue." He stood back up, turning to her with a smile. "Trust me, I'll win." Nel's watery sniffles could be heard from the ground at his feet. When he faced Grimmjow again, he looked back one last time and offered them both another caring smile.

Orihime felt simultaneously glad to see him so confident, and at the same time, dreadful.

It meant that he was going to get hurt again. Because of her.

"Let's take this battle elsewhere, Grimmjow," Ichigo called out to him.

"Fine with me."

When they took off into the sky, Orihime lifted a hand to block out the force of the wind their reiatsu kicked up in their wake.

"Be careful…Kurosaki-kun," Orihime whispered as she stared up at his retreating back. All she could do was hope for the best, relegated to being just another onlooker, watching from the background as he reached up and grabbed his sword to pull from his back.

They landed a distance away, looking serious and battle-hungry. "Are you ready?" Grimmjow taunted down at him as he propped his foot upon the ledge of the tower he'd perched himself on.

Without wasting another second, they launched forward and exchanged a few introductory blows.

As Orihime watched their exchange, Nel's sniffles and continued crying caught her attention. Stepping over to her, Orihime squatted down next to her and laid a gentle hand atop her head. "It'll be alright. Kurosaki-kun will win the battle."

"But…you don't really know that for sure." Nel wiped at her eyes with the back of her sleeves, which were already soaked through.

"But I do! He said, 'trust me, I'll win'!"

For a moment, Nel looked as if she thought the girl was crazy. "Everyone says things like that! Even if they're not sure! There's no guarantee! You can't tell anything from those words!" she prattled, waving her hands around frantically.

"You think so?" Orihime blinked a bit in self-introspection. Maybe she was being a bit naive, but still…

Was she really getting out-reasoned by a toddler? Orihime shuddered as she imagined the berating Ulquiorra would have given her if he were to ever learn of such a fact.

"Absolutely!" Nel clenched her fists and screamed. "Ichigo's probably scared! People always say that kinda stuff when they're scared!"

Orihime just shook her head calmly.

"Kurosaki-kun wouldn't do that. He would never say he's going to win because he's afraid, and he wouldn't say it to try and fool himself. I can guarantee you that. Kurosaki-kun is a very focused person. Whenever he tells you something this important, he says it like he's swearing an oath. He did that when he appeared before me as a Soul Reaper for the first time. The same thing happened when he went to the Soul Society to save Kuchiki-san." Orihime smiled. "He's always been like that. He does it to reassure us, but more than that he's making a promise to himself. Then he recites it out loud so it will become a reality. So it'll be alright. If Kurosaki-kun says he's going to win…you can believe that's precisely what he'll do."

"You mean it?"

Orihime nodded. "We just have to have faith. So we'll wait here, and believe that he'll come back to us very soon."

That was exactly what she did. What she always had done. She stood in the background and kept the faith.

.

.

.

When Grimmjow threw his own sword as a distraction, Ichigo jumped back from the subsequent attack that followed. He kept a distance, panting and evaluating how the battle was progressing in a way that was not leaning in his favor.

He could still recall all too well the sickening ease with which Ulquiorra had ended their contentious encounter.

There was too much on the line for him to be losing his focus at the moment. He'd failed once already, and the weight of that failure and the consequences that could have come about if Grimmjow hadn't brought Orihime out to heal him lurked in the back of his thoughts like an ever present critic – scorning him for the clear fact that he'd let her down.

Because of that battle, his determination was stronger than ever. His resolve was hardened. His confidence, however…had taken a hit.

He couldn't afford to lose this time. If he did, Orihime would be gone forever, and the rest of his friends…

"I've been waiting a long time for this! A chance to crush you at full strength." Grimmjow lashed out, forcing Ichigo to dodge time and time again. "You feel the same way, don't you? Ichigo Kurosaki…"

"You're wrong. I didn't come here to take you on so I could crush you," Ichigo refuted, denying the idea despite the kernel of darkness that lingered in him at the thought of just how far Ulquiorra's actions had pushed him time and again. Although the sentiment towards Grimmjow was different in nature than the resentment he felt towards Ulquiorra, Ichigo had worked equally as hard to bury the thoughts of his desire to pummel Grimmjow into the dirt for ever having hurt his friends.

"Don't give me that pathetic lie!" Grimmjow laughed, seeing through the front he was putting on easily. "Now say it! Say that you can't wait to get ahold of me and rip me apart for tearing up that friend of yours. The truth is you wanna kill me, don't you?"

Ichigo gasped as the memory of watching Grimmjow's fist impale Rukia flashed through his mind. He'd lost all semblance of calm after that time and lashed out at Grimmjow with a ferocity he didn't know he was capable of. Even Ulquiorra had never succeeded in arousing such blood red fury in him as Grimmjow's actions had that day.

Regardless of his dislike of the man, Grimmjow undoubtedly had a way of bringing strength out in Ichigo that he never knew he had. Often enough, it was usually after he'd pushed every last remaining button Ichigo had left of his tolerance.

"Now I get my revenge." Grimmjow lifted his arms as he gestured to his bare chest, sporting the massive scar that stained him like a gorge running up the length of him. "You'll understand why I kept this scar on my chest. To remind me of my humiliation and how badly I want to rip you apart. Now…let's get started. I'm going to choke the life out of you and finally prove which one of us is stronger."

When Ichigo only continued to dodge and evade, seemingly doing his best to do anything but fight, Grimmjow grit his teeth and landed atop another pile of rubble in the desert. He looked down upon the boy with contempt, his fuse shortening.

"What now, you little weakling?" he sneered contemptuously. "After all this, you still don't look like you wanna kill me. You're so pathetic."

"Is that right?" Ichigo drawled. "You and Ulquiorra seem to have a funny obsession with me killing you…" They'd both attempted to taunt him with visions of Rukia in pain. His fist tightened its hold on his sword's handle, trying to keep his cool despite the inner waves of protectiveness that rolled inside him like an unsettled sea.

Grimmjow bared his teeth. "Think twice before you compare me to that bastard, Kurosaki," he warned.

"You're right…you're nothing like him. Ulquiorra beat me much faster than you. By now, he would have already-!"

Ichigo grunted as he blocked the sudden lashing out that Grimmjow reigned down upon him.

"You little shit…"

Ichigo's brown eyes glared back into Grimmjow's blue ones as he leaned in close over their clashing swords.

"I have a question for you," he began darkly. "Just why did you bother coming here in the first place?"

"Are you some kind of idiot, Grimmjow? I came to rescue Inoue!"

"Oh really? Well, if that's true, why didn't you grab the girl and run the moment you saw her?"

Ichigo flinched back, his arms shaking as he withheld against the pressure bearing down on his blade. "What do you-"

"Tell me…just how betrayed do you feel to know she's carrying Ulquiorra's brat? I'm sure you've figured it out by now that she's pregnant."

Ichigo grit his teeth and hissed against the internal conflict those words dredged up inside him.

"She's in love with that pale freak, you know? I'd wager even now, after everything he's done, she'd still rush back to his side if given the right opportunity. Trust me, I'd know. I've tried to get under her skirts a few times…" Grimmjow grinned maliciously at the utter contortion of rage that distorted the boy's features. "Each time, she only wanted him. You're going to be no different, Kurosaki; nothing but an afterthought in her little mind."

"You sound jealous, Grimmjow." Ichigo pulled his upper lip back into a snarl of accusation.

"And you reek of it," Grimmjow chuckled back. "I'm sure you were relieved to see that she was unhurt, but do you really think she still seems like the girl you knew on the surface? Were you born naive or did you just grow up that way?"

"You bastard!" Ichigo lashed out, pulling his Zanpakuto back in order to swing it at his enemy with renewed vigor.

"Good…that's more like it, Kurosaki!" Grimmjow exclaimed in mad glee. "You said you came here to save the princess, right? Let me enlighten you since you don't seem to get it," he continued as they slashed and kicked, speaking the words between breaths and blows of exhilaration. "You're wrong. You already know that despite all your efforts, she's going to choose him over you in the end. She's changed. So, the only logical reason you came here is to fight me. Come on, Kurosaki. Are you even aware of the path to which your instincts have led you? You're a Soul Reaper. I'm a Hollow. The loser of this battle will be slaughtered. It's been that way for over a thousand years! That's all the reason you need to fight. Got it? So, come on! It's pure and simple. The last one standing gets to live!"

Landing in the sand below, Grimmjow extended his claws and raised his hand as a blood red cero formed in his palm. "As pleasing as it is that you're finally starting to put some effort into this battle, it's still not enough!"

Ichigo felt time freeze around him as he fell mid-air. Looking back, he saw Orihime behind him.

"No, stop!" he shouted down at him. "Don't fire that yet!" If he did, then Orihime would be caught in the aftermath…

When Grimmjow released his gran rey cero, Ichigo moved on instinct. His mask came out and before he knew it, he was standing in front of her, blocking the blow with a speed he would have never been able to achieve without the mask.

Relief melted through him, knowing he'd averted disaster. However, when he turned back to check on the girl, Ichigo felt his world splinter at the look of unfiltered fear that met him in her eyes.

He realized, despite knowing she'd never seen him like that, that this was the first time she'd bore witness to his darkened eyes and twisted voice.

A stab of shame pierced his chest, having never seen one of his comrades react so aversely to his appearance in this form. The others hadn't seemed to bat as much as a lash at him with his mask on, the vizards understood on a different level, and Rukia never once judged him…not like the revulsion that currently reflected in Orihime's eyes.

"Sorry, this frightens you, doesn't it?" his voice softened, trying not to upset her with its warped tone. He stamped down the indignation at her nerve; having loved, slept with, and conceived a child with the very type of being he was now embodying with his mask. However, the dark energy he was now emitting, along with the fierce change in his eyes were understandable things to have such a reaction to. Despite the pinching thread of betrayal he felt winding through him, he also…understood. "I know it's pointless telling you not to worry when I look like this, but I'll tell you anyway," he said gently. "There's nothing to worry about. I'll finish this quickly."

"Now that's better!" Grimmjow rejoiced at the sight of his mask. "Time to take things up a notch!" Reaching down, he scored his claws along the flat of his blade, illuminating it blue and sending sparks outwards from the friction.

Energy, hot and exhilarating, permeated the air.

"Grind! Pantera!"

"Inoue," Ichigo called back to her, though did not allow his eyes to waver from the target currently powering up down below. "Put up your shield and don't take it down for anything. Do you understand?"

She didn't answer him and Ichigo swallowed back the uncertainty he felt at her silence. Instead, she merely did as she was told and erected her barrier. His already wavering confidence was further crumbling at her behavior, though he did everything in his power to hide it both from her and Grimmjow. The last thing he needed was to worry her more, or to alert Grimmjow to a potential weakness.

He watched on, bracing himself as he felt the reiatsu kick up to a level he'd never seen Grimmjow unleash before. His yellow eyes observed as Grimmjow's muscular body began to contort and warp into a form that changed him completely. Layers of a white exoskeleton grew over his body, covering his arms and legs in the makeshift armor. It shredded his jacket as the muscles in his arms bulked and tore through the fabric, leaving only a few tattered remains around his chest and collar.

His hair elongated and his fingers grew long and claw-like.

The chaotic reiatsu in the very air seemed to vibrate with the Espada's palpable animosity. It thrashed around him like a whip as his spinal-like tail lashed wildly behind him. His ears becoming pointed and feline.

Moving his sword in front of him, Ichigo prepared himself when Grimmjow let out a mighty bellow, shaking the very ground underfoot.

Before he even knew what hit him, Grimmjow jumped forward and attacked, pummeling him again and again with a cat-like agility that he hadn't thought the man capable of. He threw him into the air, kicked him through towers and slashed at him with his claws, toying with him like a mouse. Buildings split under the blaze of his attacks, crumbling them to the ground.

He laughed maniacally, even when Ichigo got the drop on him and sent him on the defense with his Getsuga Tensho.

"Yeah, Ichigo! That's what I'm talking about!" he raved, somehow managing to sound both aggressive and delighted at once. "Those eyes! I hate those damn eyes! And that's why you gotta die!"

.

.

.

In the far distance, upon one of Las Noches' many balconies, four figures observed the clash taking place in the desert.

"Look at that, he's distorted the atmosphere," Harribel noted to herself, her tone mildly rebuking.

"A gran rey cero. You'd think he'd know better than to use something that powerful within the confines of Las Noches," Mila Rose agreed with a hand planted on her hip haughtily.

Apacci stepped forward and slammed her foot down on the ledge, maintaining her tomboyish mannerisms as she leaned her elbow on the knee she had propped up. "What's the deal, are you scared, Mila Rose?" she taunted obnoxiously.

"Not me," Mila Rose drawled arrogantly. "But I'm surprised you can hear anything with your teeth chattering so loudly, Apacci. You coward."

"What did you say?"

"You heard me."

Smirking maliciously, Apacci narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice an octave. Leaning in, her shoulders slanted teasingly as she leveled the dark skinned woman with a provoking gleam in her eye. "I bet you're just worried about that blue haired buffoon 'cause you slept with him a few times." The smirk on her mouth only intensified when she witnessed the absurd look of consternation that flashed across her comrade's face. "Oh, I never took you as the sentimental type, Milaaa–" she dragged out the last syllable of her name with a mocking warble.

"You bitch! Like I give two shits about that jackass!" she snarled back, offended at the accusation. "You fucked him, too, you little weasel!"

Apacci actually stuttered for a moment, mortification dripping from every inch of her face at having been called out. "You…you weren't supposed to tell anyone that!" Unlike Mila Rose, who cared little about the world knowing of her sexual conquests, Apacci was loath to ever accept anyone, least of all her Mistress, learning that she had actually slept with a filthy man.

Mila Rose's conceited laugh only fanned the flames. "Serves you right. The only Espada I care about is our Mistress. Remember that before you suggest anything even as absurd as what you just claimed."

"Would you please stop bickering. Both of you. When you raise your voices like that, it only makes you look weak," Sung Sun sighed from behind them.

"Stay out of this, Sung Sun!" they both cried in unison, spinning on her to pin her with a pair of livid snarls.

"Mind your own business!"

"It's so very unattractive." Pressing her sleeve to her mouth, she turned away from them as if their behavior was too unsightly to look upon. Her long lashes lowered prettily, causing her comrades to curse her attempts at superiority.

"Hey, listen you!" Appachi said.

"Don't turn your back on us!" Mila Rose finished.

"This is hardly the time or the place to be discussing past dalliances. So immature."

"Oh! Don't act like you're innocent of those types of flings, ya stuck up witch!" Apacci retorted. "Like we never noticed that you used to sneak off to the Fourth Tow-!"

"Finish that sentence and I will cut you down where you stand." Sung Sun literally hissed as her head jerked back around to viciously glare at her. The pretty, dotted magenta markings on her cheeks wrinkled with the venom radiating from her eyes.

Before any of them could further aggravate each other, an energy blast reached them from the battle in the distance. It was forceful enough they all raised their arms to block it, stunned that it had reached them even from such a far range.

"What does Grimmjow think he's doing? This is starting to get out of hand!" Mila Rose commented roughly. The other two remained silent in a rare show of agreement.

"Try to relax." Harribel strolled forward from her place behind the trio. "This battle is being fought by an Espada in his resurreccion form. Your fear is understandable." Another blast rocked them, though she stood steadfast in the face of the shockwave, arms crossed like an immovable fortress. The trio looked upon her with admiration as they merely raised their arms again to shield themselves. "But it is primordial fear. Relish it."

"Yes." Sung Sun nodded in understanding, her fellow Fraccion following suit.

"Those fools…" she noted quietly to herself. "That girl is in the middle of all that mess."

"Is…is Orihime…I-I mean that stupid girl going to be alright out there?" Apacci asked, quickly amending her slip up of calling the human by name as if she actually cared about her.

"In her condition…" Sung Sun trailed off quietly, also trying to hide her concern for the girl.

"Those stupid men are being too rough around her!" Mila Rose grit her teeth, her frustration building by the minute. "Good for nothing males…"

"Orihime is strong, she will endure," Harribel remarked, recalling all the times the girl had trained under her and Nnoitra. "She has even more reason now to fight than before…" she trailed off, thinking of the miraculous phenomenon shielded within her womb. She'd proven herself to be resilient in every scenario she had witnessed her in. Her spirit, although gentle, was fierce with a type of resolve that Harribel could relate to on a feminine and kindred level.

While Orihime was kind hearted and mellow, Harribel was stern and unforgiving at times. However, they both valued the things they loved and fought for them relentlessly.

That girl had stood up for her in the face of Aizen's wrath and had gone above and beyond what any prisoner of war would have done, just to help Mila Rose.

"So long as she keeps the same fighting spirit I've always seen in her, she will prevail."

More pressing, however, was the unusual fight taking place before their eyes. Was that boy really even human? She had to wonder. Orihime Inoue had literally been the strongest human she had encountered in a long time, and even then she still had her frailties.

That boy, on the other hand, possessed reiatsu as dense and dark as some of the worst Espada she'd known. It was almost as if…she were actually watching a battle between two Espada unfold.

Ichigo Kurosaki certainly was no regular human.

"It's no wonder so many around the palace have taken such an interest in him…" she mulled aloud.

"Ulquiorra got pulled into the Caja Negacion," Apacci noted as she stepped closer. "He basically would have killed that Shinigami brat until Grimmjow intervened. The idiot. Now look at the mess that's unfolding."

"That is Ulquiorra's fault." Harribel's eyes creased as she frowned. "He should have finished him off when he had the chance. The blame is not solely on Grimmjow's shoulders."

"He never would have done that…before," Sung Sun noted from off to the side, hiding behind her sleeve as the words hung in the air thickly. Harribel's turquoise gaze slid over to the petite woman to eye her, though her Fraccion kept hers lowered in submission.

"I've never seen him do sloppy work before," Mila Rose agreed. Closing her eyes and lifting her nose pompously, she tossed her thick, wavy hair over her shoulders. "That man used to do everything perfectly. I swear, it actually got on my nerves sometimes."

"I don't think he knows…about that girl, I mean," Sung Sun continued. "That she's…"

"That's not our concern," Harribel interjected with a stern tone. "If Lord Aizen has not deemed it necessary to inform him, then it is not something I will interfere with…none of us will," she added as a firm reminder.

For now, they would sit back and watch…waiting for their Master's orders.

.

.

.

Ichigo stopped Grimmjow's claws just before they pierced his face, catching the Espada off guard.

He'd been tossed around, beaten and slashed at more than Ichigo cared to admit, and he was growing tired. He always felt a little more dreadful when he had the mask on, but the recent succession of events that his heart had endured – Orihime's pregnancy, Rukia's falling to the Noveno Espada, Ulquiorra literally nearly ripping the organ out of his chest, and now, Orihime's continued gaze of horror as she watched him from the sidelines – it was all pushing him further into the abyss where he didn't want to go.

"So…you're worried about this fight being boring?" he taunted darkly. "I'll spice it up for you then…"

The quick, efficient burst of reiatsu blew Grimmjow back far enough that Ichigo swung his sword out without hesitation, slicing across the Sexta Espada's chest and over his old scar. Blood spurted from the gouge and sprayed his face like droplets of red rain.

"You know what I think would be really boring?" he asked, reluctantly allowing that thirst for battle that Grimmjow claimed dwelled within him free. "If you weren't in your released state," he added coldly. "So do me a favor..and stay just the way you are!"

If Inoue was just going to keep looking at him like he was a monster…then what was the point of holding back anymore?

.

.

.

Each blow was becoming more brutal by the minute. Every swing of Ichigo's sword garnered more and more malice behind his attacks. The distortion of his voice cried out in pain and rage with each new wound, and then in victory with the ones he managed to inflict.

The pair of men lashed at each other like animals, throwing punches that rocketed them into the ground and created craters. Boulders split from the force of their bodies colliding onto the rocks. Growls and shouts and battle cries permeated the air, as well as the endless plumes of sand and debris.

"Ichigo…" Nel muttered worriedly near Orihime's feet.

Like being lost in a haze, Orihime watched it all unfold behind a mask of fear.

"It's hard to believe." Orihime gasped as she saw the blood fly, the flesh rending. Their roars of ferocity as they clashed again and again and again. "Is that really Kurosaki-kun?" She scarcely recognized him. She'd never seen him fight with such aggression.

Yet, worst of all, was that he somehow looked to be…enjoying it.

He looked tired and frustrated, but beneath those layers, she could see those black eyes shining with a mirth that she didn't recognize.

When Grimmjow launched an attack that sent stray shrapnel in her direction, Ichigo bolted upwards and placed himself directly between her and the fragments. His back absorbed the brunt of it, causing him to flinch and curl in on himself from the pain.

"Oh…Kurosaki-kun. Why?"

"I'm alright…don't worry," he panted out, though he sounded anything but 'alright'. "This is nothing." He lifted his head, and as he did so, his eyes slowly rose to meet hers. When he saw the subtle way she shrank back from him, Ichigo felt his heart sink. Quickly turning away from her, he retreated back to the battle, away from her judgemental eyes.

I mustn't be afraid, Orihime reminded herself. Despite her words, she crossed an arm over her abdomen protectively, a habit she was beginning to pick up on more and more as she felt the motherly instinct inside her stir to life whenever she was anxious.

It was shameful of her, but his eyes seemed like they belonged to another person entirely. It reminded her of her brother and the monster he'd become, stripped of his humanity. She knew it was still him, deep inside, but the idea that he could have ever harbored such darkness frightened her. He'd always been her knight in shining armor, his image untouchable by things as petty as darkness and ferocity.

When he looked at her with those eyes, with their black sclera, yellow irises, and sweaty bangs obscuring them, it was like he didn't even see her.

"Hey! You can do it, Ichigo! I know you can!" Nel suddenly shouted out into the air, her loud voice resonating in echoes around the demolished buildings.

Orihime flinched in shock, before glancing down at the young girl at her side.

"Well, what are you just standing there for?!" Nel abruptly rounded on her, taking her off guard. "You need to cheer him on, too! But what are you doing? Standing here with your eyes closed like a coward!"

"Huh?" Orihime responded weakly.

"That's the best you can do? He's out there risking his life for you and all you have to say is 'huh'?" Throwing her arms out to the side, she waddled up to the red head and gripped her skirts harshly.

"Why are you so afraid of him, you think he's some kind of monster?" Nel continued on, pointing out Orihime's clear display of hypocrisy. "You know that he has a kind heart…you said so yourself." Her voice softened. "It's as plain as day, even Nel can see it. Ichigo cares about you, too. He cares so much that when he heard your name he attacked Master Ulquiorra with everything he had!"

Orihime's fingers dug into her arms where she kept them wrapped protectively over her belly, realizing that Ulquiorra had drawn Ichigo into a fight by invoking her name. He'd vowed to come back for her, to take her away and had given his all in his battle with Ulquiorra, only to fall.

Yet, here he was, back on the battlefield, running himself into the ground on her behalf.

Orihime realized with disturbing clarity her callous behavior. She was slipping back into old ways. She stood back, doing as Ichigo said and watching from the sidelines – getting in the way when he tried to protect them at the cost of his own wellbeing. Then, when he hadn't met her expectations…she'd shut him out.

How cruel of her.

"He's still human!" Nel reprimanded angrily. "Think about what he's gone through. Every time he uses that mask, he exposes himself to its insane power. He has to be suffering!"

At that word, Orihime looked down to see the young man struggling against Grimmjow's claws pressing down on him. His tired eyes, the broken state of his mask, his disheveled hair and bruised cheeks…

"He's doing this for you! So he doesn't care. He uses its power and endures all the pain and suffering for you!"

Orihime remembered everything they'd been through. How devastated he'd been when she had shielded Aizen against his attack, and how he still forgave her. How she'd basically admitted to coming to Hueco Mundo because of her lack of faith in her friends, and he still stood up for her. How she admitted that she loved the man who'd dragged him to Las Noches for imprisonment, and he'd swore to come back for her – regardless of whose child she was carrying.

"How will he feel? How will he feel when he doesn't even hear your voice cheering him on?!"

Again and again, he'd proven himself to be the most loyal of friends…yet there she sat, crying again. Feeling sorry for herself and too wrapped up in her own selfish emotions to even think about what kind of torment he was enduring.

She remembered it all.

The reason she came to Hueco Mundo; to protect her friends.

The reason she wanted to get stronger; Ulquiorra had pointed out her weaknesses with a candid brutality none of her friends had dared to tell her.

The reason for why she got stronger; Nnoitra and Harribel had shown her acceptance like she'd never known before in a sparring partner or teacher. At least, not since Rukia.

The reason she stayed stronger; she had grown to love Ulquiorra and knew it would require a strong heart to endure what she inherently knew the war would bring.

The reason she felt such happiness when she learned her friends had come for her; she missed them and longed to see them again.

She was tired of Ichigo fighting her battles for her, and him being the only one to pay the price. She realized, with no small amount of regret, that she was feeling sorry for herself because she had actually thought Ichigo hadn't come to Hueco Mundo to save her, after all. That he was doing it for the thrill, for the rush of battle.

Ulquiorra had been right to state she only ever saw the world through the lens of her heart, rather than through logic.

None of it mattered anymore. Not why he had come to fight, or who he was fighting for.

I'm not afraid of Kurosaki-kun…she realized remorsefully. She was only afraid that he would become something unrecognizably evil…

A flash of that monster her brother turned into raced through her mind, terrified that such a fate could also befall her beloved friend if he continued to push himself like this. At that point, it would all be her fault.

It had to stop. She had to stop it. The fighting and the bloodshed, his constant sacrifices on her behalf. If things continued, she worried he would fall off a cliff that there was no climbing back from…and she would be the guilty one who'd given him the final shove.

"Please don't die…" she uttered shakily when she saw Grimmjow stand before a seemingly defeated Ichigo. He was panting heavily, worn to the bone and not an ounce of fuel left in his tank. Racing forward, she cupped her hands around her mouth and suddenly screamed out to him, "Don't die, Kurosaki-kun!"

Like a light from above, he turned at her voice.

"You don't have to win," she hiccuped softly as the tears began streaming down her face. "And you don't have to fight for me. Just don't get hurt. I couldn't bear it," she declared, her voice wavering with the heartfelt and genuine weight of her feelings. As if the sentiment behind her words carried a power all their own, it froze him in place.

He stared up at her, the sunlight casting her countenance in a halo that flared around her brightly.

At that moment, in that very second, Orihime managed to instill in him something that only Rukia had ever succeeded at stirring in his soul; the drive to keep fighting. To kick himself in the ass and rise above.

The two women had very different methods to achieve this in him, but it seemed the results were the same.

When Grimmjow launched forward for another attack, Ichigo knew it was time for him to put an end to their battle once and for all.

With Orihime at his back, that was just what he proceeded to do…

.

.

.

Grimmjow had wandered these sands for years and years, cursed with a hunger that he had no means of satisfying. Always moving forward, always consuming…always fighting.

He had nothing but himself to fight for. As a Gillian, he loathed the existence he was fated to. So, he changed it. He consumed and consumed until he finally changed…and then he consumed some more.

His Fraccion gave up, and he consumed them, too.

When Aizen had transformed him into an Arrancar, the fear of regression and the constant shadow of his hunger for power remained. Thus, he kept consuming. He consumed colonies with merciless abandon, he devoured his enemies in hellfire, he partook in the finest of women…and that hole in his gut never once, not even for a second, felt even an inkling of relief.

Grimmjow had never known when to quit, when to just stop. Frankly speaking, it wasn't in his nature, let alone his capabilities.

Whatever dam Ichigo Kurosaki had been holding back had finally seemed to be let loose once the princess gave the young man the green light to just be himself – to stop pretending like there wasn't a large portion of himself that didn't want to be there in Hueco Mundo fighting just for the sake of fighting.

Ichigo's self-imposed restraints were gone. No longer was he trying to hide his nature.

The princess, somehow, had managed to reinvigorate the kid with new life.

So, as Grimmjow stood in the midst of his crumbling Desgarron, listening as Kurosaki spouted off all his reasons for being there, one by one…he couldn't help but let his face sink in acceptance of his apparent defeat.

Ichigo had come to fight him, the words had been admitted from his very mouth. Apparently, he also came to destroy Ulquiorra and Aizen, and take every single one of his friends home safely…and he made sure to declare them all by name.

Cut in more places than he could ever remember sustaining, Grimmjow felt the final blow Ichigo dealt him slice clear back into his literal memories, the impact visceral and deep.

The boy grabbed his wrist as he fell, stopping him from plummeting to the ground and instead lowering him gently into the sand.

"Idiot," Grimmjow rasped as blood drained from the corner of his lips. He'd been settled onto his side, his body apparently unable to move. His blue eyes were hooded and dim as he stared up at the Shinigami who'd bested him fair and square.

Ichigo merely stood quietly in front of him, his brown eyes looking down at him with an unexpected haze of understanding in them. Instead of the hatred and contempt he expected to see, all he saw was the startling glimmer of sorrow.

Ichigo Kurosaki, apparently, took no satisfaction in his victory.

When he turned his back on Grimmjow's prone form, the Espada watched as he stepped away. A flicker of Hueco Mundo's moon looming above him flashed behind his eyes; a memory of a memory. It was always there, always watching him as he stalked the deserts and ate, and ate, and ate…

He blinked lethargically, and instead of the moon off in the distance, he instead saw Orihime's bright figure standing in its place. Atop the lone remaining tower, she looked down upon them. He could see the way her lips moved as they formed his name.

'Grimmjow-kun', she whispered mournfully before closing her eyes and turning away.

"Heh," Grimmjow coughed up a poor excuse for a single laugh. "Even when that pale bastard is out of the picture, she still chooses another man over me."

Ichigo paused at his words and glanced at him over his shoulder.

"Don't give me that look, brat," he wheezed tiredly. "You're stuck on her just as badly as the rest of us are, so don't even bother acting like you don't realize how you look at her."

"Should you really be talking in your condition?" Ichigo sighed dolefully.

"Now that's a load of shit. A little too late for your concern, ain't it?"

Ichigo didn't respond. Instead, he turned back to Orihime and made to step towards her.

"Best take her and leave while you can, Kurosaki," he suddenly warned, causing Ichigo to flinch and stop in place. "Whatever strength you think Ulquiorra possesses…I assure you, his power goes well beyond that. Aizen has him under his thumb, and he's clueless about that child."

Ichigo gasped at the news, and Grimmjow smirked at the reaction.

"Is that actual concern I hear in your voice, Grimmjow?" Ichigo asked, though there was a distinct lack of mockery behind his tone.

"...yeah," he admitted after a long pause. "That girl…she…"

His eyelids were getting heavier by the second. Thoughts were becoming clouded, and the effort it would take to verbally deny his feelings seemed less and less appealing, as if it was just too much work.

"Ulquiorra will kill you before he lets you take her away. Regardless of what he might say, he's obsessed with that girl more than all of us combined…and if he finds out that's she's…"

For a beat, he could have swore his breathing had slowed down.

"Get her out of here, Kurosaki…"

He would have given his left arm again, just for the chance to kiss her one last time.

"She–"

Then, just like that, Grimmjow was going…going...and…

.

.

.

Ichigo could hear the tears that Orihime tried to hold back as he lowered himself onto the surface of the tower her and Nel were watching from. He kept his head lowered and his fringe over his eyes as he struggled to gather himself before talking to her.

He knew the girl had become friends with many of the residents during her imprisonment, but to realize that even Grimmjow had apparently fallen in love with her, was a shock. Not to mention, judging by the quiet tremble in her voice as he listened to her murmur the Espada's name sadly, was proof enough that she had also cared for him in return.

"Are…are you–"

"Hurt?" Ichigo finished for her, his words gentle and careful, given the delicate situation they'd all just endured. She blinked in surprise at his concern. "I was just about to ask you that."

Orihime shook as the wave of shame that she had felt for her earlier behavior melded and twisted with her grief over Grimmjow, as well as Ichigo's decisive victory.

"I'm fine," he said as he finally lifted his face and smiled at her softly. Relief settled some of her frayed nerves when she saw he was back to normal, though it was dampened by the shadow of despair. It was the look of a man who'd just suffered the weight of a battle hard fought and won, and took no satisfaction in the despair of his foe, merely regret.

"I'm okay, too. Thank you, I'm so relieved-" Orihime cut herself short when the rueful smile he was giving her suddenly lightened.

The grief was gone. In its place was genuine kindness reflecting back at her.

Lifting his hand, he held it out for her to take without a single word.

It felt like she was back in her cell again, looking back at him as he offered her his hand to take in their bid for freedom.

"Kurosaki-kun," she uttered quietly as she gave him a watery smile. "I…"

Clenching her fingers tight next to her heart, she was disappointed in her lack of action to immediately take his hand. Her heart was being tugged in two vastly differing directions…and, quite honestly, she wasn't sure which way she should go.

Grimmjow was down in the sand, Wonderweiss was somewhere in the castle, there were so many things in that world that were still open ended. All of their friends were still fighting; Rukia, Chad, Renji, Ishida. Most of all…

Ulquiorra was still in Hueco Mundo, there were still threads left untied.

She knew her priority should have been to leave with him, to just run. Yet…

"Don't worry, Inoue," Ichigo interjected her thoughts, as if he could read them on her face. "We're not going anywhere. Not yet, at least."

"What do you mean?" She blinked in confusion.

"We're not leaving without our friends. After we find them…I'm going to hunt Ulquiorra down and beat some sense into him so you won't have to suffer anymore."

Orihime gasped.

"When I encountered him earlier, just the sound of your name on his lips was enough to enrage me, to make me want to kill him…" he admitted with a dejected and somewhat self-reproaching crease on his brow. "But the mere mention of you from my own lips was enough to still his hand…I saw it, Inoue. He could have killed me. Easily. But he didn't. In fact, I'm quite certain he intended to, until…you."

"Ulquiorra…" Orhime pressed her lips tight as she closed her eyes.

"I understand now."

"Oh, Kurosaki-kun." Reaching out, she didn't just place her hand in his, she gripped it tightly between both of hers as tears of gratitude trailed down her cheeks. "Thank you."

They stood together for a while longer, simply absorbing the bubble of safety and comfort that only a friend's presence could afford.

"This isn't a resignation of my offer, though," he suddenly stated gruffly, taking her completely off guard when he moved closer and wrapped his hands securely around her waist.

Orihime couldn't even stutter out a protest or a blush for the shock that overwhelmed her in that moment. For, without warning, he hoisted her up and over his shoulder before resting his palm a little too closely to her rear end for her liking.

Reaching up, he scratched his chin in thought. "But it would be really nice if he didn't force me to fulfill my oath…"

"W-w-w-what?! Just…just what are you doing, Kurosaki-kun?!" Orihime pressed her hands over her face, hiding behind her fingers in embarrassment. Never in her life had she imagined the boy she'd once had a devastating crush on would be manhandling her as badly as Grimmjow used to. "Get me down!"

"Uh…yeah, that's what I'm doing." He looked back at her dumbly.

However, the spark of teasing at the corners of his lips made her suspicious.

Was…was Ichigo Kurosaki…flirting with her?!

Equal parts dread and disbelief flooded her mind.

"It's gonna be way easier to carry you down than look for a staircase in all this rubble."

"But…but I'm so heavy. This is also really embarrassing!"

"Nah, don't sweat it. You're not as heavy as you look."

Orihime was gutted.

Any thoughts of him actually flirting with her flew right out the window, along with her dignity.

He wasn't flirting. The man was just an idiot.

He was also inadvertently saying she looked fat.

Horror flooded her mind as she recalled Grimmjow once telling her that she was starting to look like a real fatass. Like a snowball effect, her anxieties spiraled as she began to wonder if Ulquiorra, too, had thought she was packing on the pounds. Even if she was, it wasn't as if it was her fault! Orihime didn't think she looked any different yet. If anything, she'd lost weight from the stress, nausea and constant turmoil, but she knew that eventually her belly was going to begin showing.

However, before she could retort, justice had seemingly served itself without her help, arising to defend her dignity in the form of a snotty Hollow child.

When Nel abruptly launched herself forward and headbutted him right in the family jewels, Orihime – for once – couldn't find it in herself to feel bad for him. Instead, she lifted a hand to cover the slightly malicious grin on her lips at the swift delivery karma had just dealt him.

The shriek of agony that followed only fueled her intense satisfaction, causing her to distantly wonder when she'd acquired such a vicious streak.

"What…the…hell?!" Ichigo choked out.

"That is not how you speak to a lady," Nel deadpanned with an aura of murky gloom churning around her like an eerie cloud. "There are rules you gotta stick to when talking about certain topics! No matter what she weighs, you always tell her she's light as air!" Orihime paused in her sniggering, not liking the direction Nel's berating words were going. "Even when she's a HIPPO!"

"Please stop!" Orihime covered her face once again. "You're actually making me feel worse!"

So much for female camaraderie.

.

.

.

When Ichigo landed on the sand and set her feet back on solid ground, Orihime stepped back to survey the damage the area had sustained. He and Grimmjow had nearly flattened half of the structures in the area.

At the thought of the blue haired Espada, Orihime's face grew sorrowful.

"Alright then, I gotta go. After all, somebody's gotta go help Chad and Rukia."

"Hey! What about us, you're not just gonna leave us here!" Nel protested.

"Nah, I wouldn't do that. Just come with me. It's too dangerous to stay here anyway."

Orihime sighed in relief. She had been concerned that he was going to take off without them again. Honestly, the last thing she wanted right now was to be split up. Also, the thought of reuniting with all of their friends was simply too great of a temptation for her to pass up on. Chad and Rukia had been dealt some incredibly strong wounds, and although she didn't have a doubt in her mind that they were still alive, she knew they would need her nearby in order to heal them.

"Inoue, do you think you could keep up?" Ichigo turned to her to ask, only to find her wide-eyed and staring at something in the distance over his shoulder. "Inoue?" he asked again.

"G-Grimmjow-kun," she exhaled in disbelief.

Ichigo immediately tensed up as his head whipped around. There, standing behind them was Grimmjow's haggard silhouette, barely standing. He was slouched and breathing heavily, appearing as if he could scarcely stand on his own two feet.

Orihime felt torn between feeling relief and panic.

How could he possibly still keep going?

"You-" Ichigo began with wide eyes.

"You can't defeat me," the Sexta Espada panted harshly. Slowly, he reverted from his released state, until Pantera was grasped loosely in his hand. "You! You're too weak. I'll never lose to you!"

"Just let it go, Grimmjow. You lost." Ichigo's voice softened, though he was careful not to express any pity that may trigger the Arrancar any further than he already was. "You say you're some kind of king? But killing everyone you happen to dislike makes you a king with no subjects. What's the point in that? If you truly hate me, I'll fight you anytime you want, but for now you need to give up."

Sweat and blood ran down his forehead, and one of his eyes was half swollen shut. He glared at the boy irately, though Orihime noticed the distinct easing of the frown lines around his cobalt eyes.

Taking a step closer, Orihime came up until she was standing just behind her comrade.

"Grimmjow-kun…please," she uttered quietly as she continued to watch him. "It's enough."

At that, he seemed to snap.

He lunged. "Never! I'll kill you!"

The point of his sword was inches from Ichigo's face when Nnoitra's massive scythe slammed into him from the side. Orihime and Ichigo's faces froze in a look of horror as blood splattered across the sand and Grimmjow's body was tossed sideways before rolling to a violent stop.

Staring in a disturbing moment of fear for the blue haired man, Orihime locked up.

"You just don't know when to call it quits." The antagonizing drone of Nnoitra's familiar voice slithered across the desert floor. "Hurry up and die. I want him for myself…" Tall and lanky, the Quinto Espada dropped Santa Teresa onto the ground with sloppy abandon, allowing the massive weight to carry it where it pleased. Taking purposeful strides forward, he dragged the monstrous weapon behind him. The noise it made against the sand was like metal scraping over silk, leaving a wide trail behind it.

"What the hell…who are you?" Ichigo's angered voice snapped Orihime out of her trance, though Nnoitra refused to answer. "Are you an Espada? I asked you a question!" Still no reply. "Answer me!"

"Nnoitra-kun," Orihime whispered his name fearfully.

Grimmjow alone was a big problem, but Nnoitra was a different animal altogether.

At her word, Ichigo's head snapped over to her. "You know this guy?"

Orihime licked her lips nervously and nodded after a second of hesitation. It had been so long since she'd last seen him that the sight of his malicious grin made her shake in apprehension. Any chances they had of moving onward were thoroughly dwindled at his added involvement. Nnoitra didn't care about fair fights like Grimmjow did. He was also far more ferocious when his temper got ahold of him then Grimmjow had ever been on his worst days.

"Nnoitra, you bastard," Grimmjow struggled to grit out, his arms shaking under him as he rested his weight on his elbow and tried to sit up.

Blinking over at him in exasperation, Nnoitra scowled. "What is this? Are you still alive?"

It all happened in the snap of a moment. Orihime sensed Ichigo move almost before she saw him. He launched himself at his sword lying several feet away where he'd thrown it when he stopped Grimmjow's earlier attempt at continuing the fight.

"Nel, run and hide!" Orihime suddenly ordered over her shoulder and took off before waiting for a response. Behind her, the girl nodded and ducked behind a large rock for cover.

Remembering her training with the Quinto, Orihime moved fast, trying to ignore how the sand beneath her feet slowed her down. She knew the moment she saw Nnoitra lift his blade that his mind was set on finishing Grimmjow off for good.

Struggling on the ground, Grimmjow snarled and bared his teeth at the other Espada. "Fucking bastard," he spat. Above him, Nnoitra grinned and, without a bit of hesitation, swung his scythe down hard.

Grimmjow intended to watch his demise head on, to witness the very moment he was struck down permanently. However, the exact opposite occurred. Almost in sync, Orihime and Ichigo appeared above him, standing like a pair of sentinels over his useless body.

Throwing her arm out to the side, Orihime's protective shield covered him in an instant as Ichigo's sword wedged itself between the curves of Santa Teresa, stopping the blade's descent.

Whatever ragged breaths that were left in Grimmjow's lungs lodged in his throat.

"What…are you doing?" His eyes went wide as he stared at the pair that had seemingly materialized out of thin air to protect him. The bright desert sun blotted out their features, but their shadowed outlines stood fiercely.

Ichigo's arms shook and his back braced himself as he held the attack off.

Orihime's hair settled behind her as she straightened her posture and, with a flick of her wrist, shifted the cast of her shield from defense to healing.

"What do you think you are doing?" Nnoitra hissed incredulously, echoing Grimmjow's own words.

"You tell me first. Why would you attack a guy who can't even move?" Ichigo growled angrily.

Nnoitra scoffed and abruptly shoved him back. With the sheer weight of his weapon, Ichigo was thrown far off to the side. When he turned to Ichigo, as if to pursue, Orihime quickly intervened.

"Nnoitra-kun!"

The Espada froze.

"Please, stop this."

Changing moods in the blink of an eye, Nnoitra's wide mouth slipped from a grimace of annoyance to a grin of amusement. "Ah, pet-sama," he drawled as he slowly approached her, the bangles on his wrists jingling with his every step. "How I've missed the sight of your gorgeous tits."

Orihime blushed.

"What do you think you're doing all the way out here in the middle of this? We both know you don't stand a chance in a real fight, so why don't you run back to Ulquiorra like a good little bitch and let the boys play for once."

"I won't," she replied steadily.

His chains rattled roughly as he closed the gap between them. Slamming his scythe down into the sand directly next to her, he grinned wider as the impact sent her hair and cape whipping off to the side, though she didn't once flinch. Silently, he mused how she had changed from the frightened little girl who'd wept so long ago in the arena when he'd threatened her with similar tactics.

She'd certainly grown some nerves. Though, in his opinion, it wasn't yet earned. She still needed to be knocked down a few pegs.

Grabbing the long handle, he leaned on it as he bent down to level her with a leering stare.

"Get lost, pet-sama."

"You tried to come see me when Aizen locked me in the garden…" Orihime trailed off and watched the way the obnoxious but fond look on his face wasted away on the breeze. "I'm right here, now."

"Who said I was trying to come see you?" His lip curled up in a sneer. "Maybe I just heard that was where Aizen was keeping all the good whores."

Orihime felt a tremble go through her frown at the degrading words and he chuckled at the sight.

"Still a whiny little bitch, I see. Can't even take an insult without crying. And just for the record – I'd never want to come see someone like you. You're weak and pathetic. Not to mention, I heard a salacious little rumor about you and Ulquiorra. You got taken away from him because he came in that pussy one too many times!" He chuckled darkly. "Even I know not to get my whores pregnant. No, I went to that garden thinking now that you were nothing more than used goods, I could finally get my hands on that tight ass of yours for once–"

The slap that interrupted his foul words was quick and decisive, shocking the man into shutting his mouth.

However, unlike Ulquiorra who took her impertinence in stride and often stood by, processing the fact that she'd dared to have the audacity to strike him, Nnoitra immediately retaliated.

No sooner than his face had been whipped to the side, he'd raised his arm and brought it back down to slap her in return. Orihime's body went flying off to the side as he backhanded her.

"Coward," Grimmjow spat from his place on the ground.

"Grimmjow, you are a miserable sight…" Nnoitra turned at the waist to address the injured Sexta. "First you lose to this guy and then you let pet-sama protect you. Ridiculous."

"You piece of shi–!"

A single, strong kick from Nnoitra hit Grimmjow straight in the mouth, knocking him unconscious and stopping his retort.

"Damn, you really don't know when to shut up." Nnoitra frowned down at the limp man before suddenly rounding on Ichigo. "Alright, Soul Reaper. What's your name?"

"I'm Ichigo Kurosaki," Ichigo growled back, his attention torn between checking on his comrades and facing the new menace that was slowly stalking towards him.

"Ichigo, huh? I'll remember that…but the thing is, you won't be alive much longer!"

Faster than Ichigo would have ever imagined a weapon of Santa Teresa's size could move, the scythe was coming at him at full speed, surprisingly quiet aside from the jingle of its chains and the whistle it made as it sliced through the air.

"Kurosaki-kun, no!" Orihime shouted when she witnessed his struggles to avoid the attacks.

"Tesla!" Nnoitra suddenly shouted when she ran forward to help.

"Sir!"

Orihime shrieked in protest when the loyal Fraccion seemed to appear out of thin air, grab her arms in a lock, and then proceed to yank her back into his chest. "Tesla-san!"

"Forgive my rough treatment, Lady Inoue," he spoke behind her, keeping his grip on her firm so she wouldn't twist herself free. "But I must listen to Master Nnoitra, even if it pains me to do so sometimes."

"Let me go! I need to help Kurosaki-kun," she continued to protest. A sense of betrayal hit her in the chest as she recalled all the times she and Tesla had trained together, all the times he'd tried to subtly keep her out of his Master's reach and steer her clear of danger…the time she healed him in the Menos Forest, thinking him dead.

"Unfortunately, you and I both already know you stand no chance of helping your comrade against my Master. Please, refrain from further interfering."

Orihime shuddered in barely restrained frustration at the battle that continued to unfold in front of them. Ichigo was barely dodging Nnoitra's attacks. He was swift, but even with his impressive speed the bulky size of Santa Teresa still meant that Nnoitra was not as fast as he could have been. It was the only saving grace that was keeping Ichigo out of harm's way, allowing him a split second to dodge.

However, the boy was wearing down by the minute. He'd just concluded a hard won battle with Grimmjow and his injuries were still very much present. He jumped and fled, skirting the reach of Nnoitra's long Zanpakuto.

"Please stop this, I'm begging you! Can't you see that Kurosaki-kun is hurt?" Orihime shouted out to Nnoitra when Ichigo took another hit, sending him toppling to the ground where he struggled to rebound.

"Shut up, you ignorant little fool! Who cares if he's injured or not? This is a battle. It's not supposed to be a fair fight. A battle is a monster from which inequality and intolerance are born," Nnoitra hissed back at her in annoyance. "Honestly, your naivety gets on my nerves, pet-sama," he stated before turning to lurk towards Ichigo, who was still trying to catch his breath. "A battle forms in stages. First, hatred develops. Then, hell is unleashed. For various reasons one makes an enemy and at that moment everything pulses into a battle. You think that you can come wandering into your enemy's backyard, cause a ruckus with all that fighting, and expect to sneak out without being noticed?"

Orihime gasped at the sheer level of indignation the lanky man was projecting, offended at the very notion of their audacity.

"Bring it on. I'll teach you something about what a true war is," he continued. "Here's a hint; it's not that gullible, idyllic, pompous scenario where two enemies fight on equal terms, on equal levels, to the fullest potential. No, it's about taking advantage of what's in front of you, preying on your enemy's weakness and seizing on the opportunity to win!" Pausing in front of Ichigo's struggling body, he took stock of the boy's trembling limbs and pale demeanor. "You'll quickly see that I'm not like that idiot Grimmjow. I could give two shits whether you're already exhausted. Obviously I watched you fight against him from the beginning, so I already know your every move, even before you make it. I also know you no longer have any special powers to pull out your ass…you're at your limit."

As their one-sided battle resumed, with Ichigo losing ground by the second, Orihime turned back to glare at Tesla, strongly contemplating turning on him and lashing out. She needed to help her friend…

"Please don't even think about it," Tesla interrupted her train of thought. "I can already sense your intentions. However, you and I both know with your level of power you cannot hope to win. It may be true that your power is tremendous, but the Rikka that configure your abilities is extremely fragile. Even I could easily destroy them. The only reason I don't do so is because you're a very important person to me, Lady Inoue, regardless of our current circumstances. I owe you a debt and Lord Aizen has strictly ordered us not to destroy your Rikka, unless attacked. If you do attack…I shall destroy it. So please, don't force my hand."

Shoulders slumping in defeat, Orihime resigned herself to wait and bide her time. Until, a sudden realization hit her.

Wait a minute, she thought in mild panic. I don't see Nel!

Her eyes scanned the grounds frantically, worried about the small, defenseless child. She had been the one to talk some sense into her during Ichigo's previous fight, so suffice it to say, Orihime had already grown a soft spot for her, along with a level of gratitude for the wisdom that seemingly dopey child had imparted onto her.

"Is something wrong?" Tesla questioned next to her ear.

"No, i-it's nothing!" Orihime tried to hide the truth with her denial, though it seemed as if Tesla saw straight through it.

"I see why you're concerned…I don't see the little Arrancar that was with you earlier." He lifted his head to scan the area. "Normally I wouldn't bother with little nuisances like her. However…" Narrowing his eye, he zeroed in on the child's signature and prepared to root her out. "She bears a strange resemblance to someone from Master Nnoitra's past. That alone warrants a second look at her."

Orihime stiffened as she saw the red sparks flicker in his eye.

"There she is."

With a miniscule blast, the child was thrown from the scattering rubble that had once been the boulder she was hiding behind.

"No!" Orihime began to struggle again as she witnessed Nel get unceremoniously thrown straight into the fray between Ichigo and Nnoitra. Her arms twisted and her shoulders trembled as she tried to free herself. "Leave her alone!" she shouted as she watched the small girl huddle in on herself and try to hide under her hands, her small bare feet peeking out from the oversized garment on her body.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as she watched Nnoitra stalk forward without a care, and Orihime felt fear for the girl like never before.

She expected to see the cruel man step on her, walk over her, torment her, anything her worst nightmares could dredge up.

However, the closer the man got, Orihime noticed the smile on his face slowly sink by the second.

Recognition, cold and harsh, settled over his lone eye.

Orihime expected a lot of terrible things after that. What she didn't expect was for Nnoitra to stop in his tracks and stare at the child like she were a ghost.

"Are you…Nel?"

.

.

.

Nnoitra could hear the pathetic wimpers of the little bundle of snot on the ground in front of him. He cared little about the child at first glance. In fact, he fully intended to stomp right over the midget and go about his fight.

However, the closer he got, the more recognition set in.

The teal hair. The round mask atop her head. The sound of her broken cries, even though they reverberated more child-like now than they ever used to.

He knew those features, all too well. It didn't matter that literal decades had passed. The memory was as fresh as ever.

Slowly, the girl turned to glance back at him, and he froze at the sight of hazel eyes and her red markings.

Time stood still.

Vivid memories flashed through his mind of occasions long in the past. The constant losses he faced at her hand, the endless shame he endured at every one of her victories. Her intolerable lectures. She suffered him little, cared none for his constant thirst for bloodshed.

Yet, those eyes.

He remembered how they looked up at him the first time she sought him out. How he took her again, and again, and again. She always submitted. She never fought back, no matter how rough he treated her. He took his anger and hatred and frustration out on her fully on those nights.

The woman was a masochist, through and through. Regardless of the fact she could pound him into the ground, she was never satisfied until he'd scored her back with bloody scratches and fucked her so hard she cried.

Deep inside, regardless of all her pompous self-righteous attributes, she was twisted down to the pits of her soul. Far more twisted than him, and she knew that only Nnoitra, with all his savage, beastly tendencies, could satisfy her.

She came to him.

She followed him.

She begged him.

She started it all.

It was him who ended it.

As swift and efficient as betrayal could ever be, he'd been her downfall.

He was tired of the fearless look in her eyes, whether on the battlefield or in his bed. She was never afraid, because he was weak. Always interfering in his business. Yet, those eyes were always looking at him; judging him, scorning him, measuring him against the feats of her own strength.

He hated it.

He hated her.

"I thought that was you," he droned darkly before pointing to his face, miming the path of her own scar. "That scar gives you away. Boy, you've really let yourself become all shabby, huh?" he mocked, taking delight in putting her down. She'd once been the most beautiful woman he'd ever set his sights upon. Another reason he loathed her so much; he'd never had another like her again, never found that same matchless aesthetic she possessed. "Tell me, does your mask still throb after it's been cracked for so long?" He stalked forward and laughed, reveling in the fear that was radiating in her eyes as his massive shadow fell over her. It was a sight he'd never had the pleasure of seeing before – fear in Nelliel's eyes as she looked upon him.

"What's going on here, you bastard?" Ichigo demanded, capturing Nnoitra's attention. The tall Espada turned from her, his hand still lingering over his forehead where he had been mocking her broken mask. "How do you know who Nel is?"

"I wonder…what possible reason could you have for coming back here. Did you bring her here, Soul Reaper?" Nnoitra scoffed upon looking at the kid. "Ah, don't bother. I can tell from your expression that's a yes. Funny you've been dragging her around without ever knowing who she is."

"What?" Ichigo questioned, his tone harsh and wavering in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

Nnoitra chuckled to himself. "Well, if you don't know, I'll tell you. You only know her as Nel, but her full name is Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck. She's a…former Espada."

.

.

.

Orihime's shoulders hung in exhaustion at the events that unfolded after that incredible revelation.

Nel's pleading cries to them, swearing up and down that she would never lie.

Nnoitra's attempt to end her with a stomp of his foot, and Ichigo's interference to stop him.

Nel's transformation and the truth behind her mysterious past…and the fact that her and Nnoitra apparently shared a good portion of that past together in a twisted, interwoven net of darkness and deceit that made Orihime's heart ache for the both of them.

She had, on a handful of occasions, recalled Harribel mentioning 'her' during rare moments of dialogue between her and the Quinto Espada whilst she trained. 'She' was never to be mentioned by name, but even just the suggestion of this mystery woman was always enough to set Nnoitra off in a rage before the man stormed off, never to be seen for the rest of the day.

Orihime had never pushed her luck and questioned him about it, not after her close call with him out in the Menos Forest when she'd opened her mouth and stepped out of line. She had learned her lesson well enough after that, and made sure she and her mouth tread very carefully around the lanky Espada from then onwards.

Now, as she sat back and heard his mocking use of the phrase 'my dear' with the transformed Nel, Orihime seemed to connect the dots well enough. She'd never witnessed the man use such an expression before, even as a derisive jeer, as he was currently spitting the word at the teal haired woman like it had once been an endearment, long ago. Now, he used it like a curse.

Orihime couldn't help but wonder, as she listened to him disparage her over and over again, if perhaps Nnoitra was confusing his hatred for her with something else…

In the end, it didn't matter, not after Captain Zaraki showed up to put an end to things.

After Tesla had tormented Ichigo at his Master's behest.

After Nel had lost her powers again and reverted into a child.

After the other Captains arrived as backup and relieved them.

After Kenpachi cut down Tesla…and then subsequently Nnoitra after…

Orihime watched his lone gray eye seek out the bright color of Nel's hair as he fell, and the way the light faded from that eye before he hit the ground.

Orihime clenched her fists and released a shuddering breath as she turned away from it all to gather herself.

She knew this was coming, knew the inevitability of it all.

Yet, she couldn't help but suffer for it all the same.

So many times had Nnoitra been there for her to release her anger and try to hone her skills, giving her the time of day when many others never cared to even consider the fact that she was capable of fighting and progressing her powers.

She'd sat by and witnessed his rare displays of leniency and concern for Tesla, usually so shrouded in roughness that one would have mistaken his tolerance for cruelty. She'd had the blonde man's head in her lap as he bled out on the floor of the Menos Forest, she'd cared for both of them in her own ways. There was more to them than just a blind servant and a violent master.

Now, Orihime couldn't bear to turn and look upon the sight of their bodies lying prone in the desert sand, surrounded by blood. The healing shield she'd erected around Ichigo remained glowing, but the spark in her heart that belonged to the brutal Arrancar faded into a dim twinkle.

"Nnoitra-kun…" she whispered sorrowfully, hanging her head to hide her visage from any prying or questioning eyes. "Goodbye."

.

.

.

"I want life to have fled my body, before it hits the ground…that's how I want to die."

"Good fight, Nnoitra…that was fun."

.

.

.

"Woman!" Kenpachi shouted at her, causing the young girl to immediately stiffen up like she was nothing more than a green cadet facing roll-call out boot camp.

"Uh…yessir?" she replied, her high pitched squeak of acknowledgement sounding ridiculous in the face of his gruff, smokers voice. The harsh Captain had already interrupted their much needed intermission and ordered Ichigo to take her and go home, to let the 'professionals' take care of the rest.

Knowing her friend, she doubted it was going to be that easy to convince him.

"Come and heal my wounds." He spoke like she had no option to object.

Honestly, as scary as the giant man was, she really didn't want to see what fate awaited her if she were to object.

"Ah…r-right!"

As she raced forward to his aid, Orihime wondered if maybe things really were finally over. Four very powerful Captains were there now, along with their lieutenants. The burden would no longer fall so heavily upon Ichigo's shoulders now. Her friends had actually received the help they needed, and they were all alive and being tended to – including Rukia and Chad.

Hope began to blossom in her chest as she rushed over the sand, daring to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Until the shocking sound of Sonido cut through the air.

Directly in her path, Starrk appeared, his posture slouched as he reached out and rested his hand upon her shoulder.

"Starrk-san?"

"Sorry for this, Mistress," he stated bluntly. "I don't enjoy these kinds of assignments, but I have my orders."

Ichigo and Kenpachi were moving swiftly, lifting their swords to come to her defense. At the hint of movement from them, Starrk slid a hand around her waist and pulled her in close.

"I need to borrow her for a bit…"

Their blades landed in the sand simultaneously, though they struck nothing but air.

Just like that, Orihime was gone.

.

.

.

Like little thorns, Orihime's fingers remained fastened to the front of Starrk's jacket as he gently set her down upon the floor of the throne room.

"I'm sorry," he uttered quietly as he reached up to pry her fingers away. Yet, in contradiction to his actions, she noted the strong grip of his arm around her waist kept her pressed tight to his side, as if he was reluctant to let her go. His gray eyes were as soft as they always were when he looked upon her, though now they lacked the typical droopiness that normally accompanied them. Instead, they appeared somber and resigned, overshadowing the fondness that always glimmered in their tired depths.

Her back was facing the podium, and she kept her face steadfastly close to the Espada in front of her, knowing what awaited her when she turned around.

"Keep that lap warm for me, yeah?" he muttered as a tinge of pink colored the tops of his ears, suddenly avoiding eye contact. "When this is all over, I'm going to need one helluva nap."

Setting a hand briefly on her head, Starrk lingered for only a beat longer before he turned and strolled out of the room, rubbing at the back of his neck all the while as if he could feel her pleading gaze sending chills down his spine.

"Welcome back, Orihime," Aizen greeted from the top of his dias as she spun to face him. Slowly, step by step, he descended the stairs. "What's the matter? I thought you'd be happy to see us now that you're back again, but you look so troubled."

Approaching her until he was far too close for comfort, Aizen reached up and lightly brushed his fingers through her hair.

"You should try to smile. Everyone gets so depressed when the sun doesn't shine." Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, causing her to shudder in revulsion and twist her face away. "Smile and wait here a while, that's all you need to do. Just until…" he trailed off as a giant Garganta opened up in the room, illuminating it with the sight of Karakura's blue skies. For just a moment, if the circumstances hadn't been so dire, Orihime would have wept at the sight of the beloved sunlight. "Just until my men and I finish destroying Karakura Town."

"You're going to destroy Karakura Town?" she echoed in disbelief.

Aizen turned from her once more. "That's right," he confirmed and began to ascend back up towards his throne. "I need to destroy Karakura Town to create the Oken. In the meantime, I need you to wait here a little while longer, at least until the time is right."

"Until the time is right for what?" Orihime pressed further.

"In case you haven't figured it out yet…" Aizen turned to grant her one last scheming glance over his shoulder. "I intend to feed you and that child to the Hogyoku."

Orihime's eyes widened in mind numbing shock. Her breath left her body and her extremities went cold.

"You can't…" she began, but found the words failed her. Internally, she was at war with fear and rage. Terror kept her tongue tied, but the sweltering and vengeful wrath of her newly awakened motherly instincts were roaring at her to retaliate at even the suggestion of such a thing.

Aizen smirked. "Speechless? How unlike you, my dear."

Beside him, Gin shifted uncomfortably but made no protest.

"I'm sure by now you're wondering if Ulquiorra knew my motivations. Perhaps you're even asking yourself if he was in on it?"

Tears formed in Orihime's eyes as she listened, helpless as he planted his seeds of doubt and watched them grow.

"The answer may surprise you…" he added cryptically. Facing the world in front of him, Aizen's gaze settled into one of satisfaction as his plans slowly fell into place, one by one. "However, it's not quite time for that stage, yet." Turning to his fellow ex-Captain, Aizen requested, "Kaname, the Tenteikura."

With a resounding boom, the Kido spell ricocheted out over the grounds of Las Noches. She listened as he welcomed his intruders, and then proceeded to educate them on how badly they had fallen into his trap. He lied through his teeth, claimed that she was no longer of any use to him despite what he'd just told her, and then told them where she was and to come retrieve her if they dare try, essentially using her as a lure yet again. He explained how he'd effectively split Soul Society's forces in half by drawing so many Captains to the land of the dead.

He'd known her powers were a threat to them, and that they would inevitably try to get her back, even in the face of the armistice they had shared. Her very presence in Hueco Mundo caused them to mobilize. She became his bait to coax them in, both the Captains and the ryoka. They had wasted valuable troops time after time in their efforts to retrieve her, and when Ichigo Kurosaki came after her, the Captains inevitably followed as he knew they would.

"Excellent, it seems we made it here in time," the Captain Commander announced as Aizen stepped out from the Garganta and into the skies over the fake Karakura Town. A small army was there to greet him, their countenances hardening at the sight of the villainous defector.

"Made it in time? Now, why would you think to say something like that? I'm well aware that what lies beneath you is not Karakura Town. This may come as a surprise, but that means nothing to me." He'd had Ulquiorra uncover their schemes long ago, and had since learned the purpose of the four pillars they had erected around the town in their efforts to thwart him.

"Starrk, Barragan, Harribel…come here."

On cue, three more Gargantas opened up to reveal his forces, the strongest of his soldiers he'd kept close at hand for this very purpose.

"If Karakura Town is now inside the Soul Society, we'll just kill you right here and create the Oken within the Soul Society. It is that simple," he explained.

"Until then, I shall leave Las Noches under your care…Ulquiorra."

.

.

.

Ichigo froze in the middle of his tirade, verbally refuting Kenpachi's orders as he'd tried to rush off to find some way to infiltrate the Living World, despite knowing that Aizen had blocked them off.

Even as Kenpachi informed him of the Captain Commander's orders, and how all of the high ranking officers had gathered on the scene to defend the Earth, Ichigo refused to just sit by. Regardless that the real Karakura Town was nestled safely in the Seireitei, he fully intended to launch himself into the nearest fray, to take action – anything but stand by as a spectator.

That is, until he'd felt Ulquiorra's reiatsu suddenly shatter through the air like breaking through a glass barrier.

It flooded the area swiftly, settling low to the ground and creeping outward like a dense fog.

He froze on the spot, then turned as he abruptly remembered that Orihime still needed him – and that the rest could wait.

Glancing back at the scarred Captain, Ichigo could see the troubled look that slanted his features into one of resolve at the feeling of the Espada's ever growing energy signature.

"Be careful with that one, Kurosaki…" he warned as he watched the boy take off into the dome.

.

.

.

After the pandemonium of the battlefield she had just emerged from, the quiet drone of the throne room was like an empty buzz in Orihime's ears. Explosions, shouts, and the clash of metal on metal as swords crossed paths lingered in her mind like echoes. Compared to the dead silence of the room she now stood in, whose sweltering reverberations of emptiness seemed to ring off of one another, it had been a chaotic mess. Now, her ears were filled with unsettling stillness.

Nnoitra was gone.

Tesla was gone.

Grimmjow's fate was unknown and Starrk and the others had been summoned to Aizen's side to be led towards an undoubtedly similar fate.

Orihime stood with her back to Ulquiorra as she listened to the steady drum of his boots approaching. Her arms wrapped protectively around herself as she willed her heart to be strong, and to quit fighting the relief she felt at the knowledge that he'd made it out of the Caja Negacion. Not that she'd had any doubt that he would, rather it was a relief that she had one final chance to simply talk to him, to be near him before the inevitable came. After Grimmjow's battle, she had since come to accept there was no getting around the confrontation that was about to take place. However, she doubted she would be walking away unscathed regardless of the outcome.

The question was, could she live with that outcome…whatever it may be.

When she heard his footsteps stop behind her, she hugged her arms closer and shivered at the cold chill his reiatsu gave off. The iciness around him was nothing unfamiliar, however the power behind it was. Now that the war had fully gotten underway, she didn't fail to notice how he no longer kept a cap on it like he normally did. Her shoulders trembled slightly when she felt what he'd been hiding for so long, the strength he possessed but had rarely allowed her to glimpse.

It was almost as if he was intentionally showing it off now, relaxing his stringent hold on his Spiritual Pressure to intimidate her…or perhaps draw Ichigo's attention and lure him in closer to them, she wasn't sure which. It felt heavy and overbearing, but different in nature than Aizen's omnipresent aura seemed to cast. Ulquiorra's reiatsu was dense, thicker than oil in water, and sank to the floor to hover there like a fog that choked the oxygen from the very air.

"Woman," he called and Orihime stiffened.

When she didn't respond, she could practically feel his eyes digging into her from behind.

"I warned you."

"More times than I can count," Orihime conceded quietly.

"I told you that you did not know me as well as you thought you did." Orihime felt her shoulders sink slightly at his words. "Just how willing are you to offer that heart of yours to me now?"

Lifting her head, she turned to gaze at him sadly over her shoulder. "Ulquiorra…"

Their eyes met, and it was like looking at him for the first time.

His eyes were glossed over and glassy, void of anything but the reflection of the outside world.

Cold.

Merciless.

Her own eyes closed again in despair, rueful at the sight.

"I see my actions have garnered enough hatred that you can no longer look upon me." Ulquiorra stepped forward and circled around the girl, only pausing at her side as she slid her eyes open to watch him. Their gazes locked and he stopped in place. "It has always puzzled me how you believed I could do anything but fulfill my duties…be anything but what I am," he added softly.

"I don't hate you, Ulquiorra," Orihime answered remorsefully.

"Are you sure about that?" Like he was proving a point, he gently lifted his hand to brush the back of his fingers along her face. Orihime flinched involuntarily, before her eyes widened slightly in shame and shock for her own reaction. Ulquiorra, however, didn't seem surprised or dejected from her response, more that he had expected it. "Are you afraid? You've fulfilled your purpose to Lord Aizen. There is no one here to protect you…you are alone."

"I'm not alone. You are here."

"Because duty compels me."

"And nothing else?" she implored gently, though he didn't reply. "Are you to protect me? Or am I to be protected from you?" When he still didn't answer, she sighed. "You should know by now, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Alone or not."

"To a point," Ulquiorra agreed and took another few steps to stand directly before her. "However, the truth is the war will soon be over, and Lord Aizen will no longer have a use for you. It's over. You will die here. You will die all by yourself with no one to witness it."

'I intend to feed you and that child to the Hogyoku.' Orihime shivered as she recalled what Aizen had said. 'I'm sure by now you're wondering if Ulquiorra knew my motivations.' Those words rang in her mind like poison.

"And you are going to be the one to kill me, Ulquiorra?" He paused at that. "Because there is no one else here but me and you…" Orihime felt her heart pound inside her chest, waiting for his answer. Instead, she was met with the sight of him frowning and glaring at the wall over her shoulder.

Seeing his hesitation, she took a step nearer.

"Ulquiorra," she pleaded quietly. "Please…look me in the eye and tell me if you would do such a thing."

At her beckoning, his eyes lifted to hers, the vivid green depths instantly stealing her heart back like a snare, refusing to set her free.

In her eyes, he saw it all; a light refusing to be doused in the darkness, the spirit of a human who merely bent when she should have broke, the will to persevere in the face of insurmountable odds, and…he saw his own reflection, gazing at her with a hunger that he was, frustratingly, becoming all too familiar with.

"I am capable of many things, woman," he finally answered, watching as her features softened. She, apparently, knew his answer even before he gave it. "But I would not…" he paused, correcting himself. "Could not…execute that order."

Orihime took another step closer, like a moth to a flame – sure to burn her wings. "Then, perhaps, I do know you better than you claim I do."

"No matter what you think, the fate of you and your friends is already decided," he stated as she closed the gap, now standing a mere arm's reach apart. "Even if they do manage to find you, it will not change the fact that they will all perish in the war. There's no turning back from that now."

"And when all is gone and everyone is dead, what shall you do with me then? If you razed it all to the ground and killed everyone in your way, but could not kill me, what then?"

"I would await my next orders," he responded coldly, mechanically.

"Oh, Ulquiorra," Orihime sighed sadly and reached for him. "If only you could see how much I loved you…"

Her fingers were just shy of touching his cheek when he gripped her wrist and pulled her hand away, shocking her. However, when he suddenly grabbed the back of her neck and hauled her forward, Orihime gasped in surprise.

"Do not insult my intelligence," he exhaled the words harshly as he pressed his lips to her forehead in tightly controlled torment. "I am heartless, not blind." Orihime's fingers dug into the front of his jacket, her stunned features sinking into one of sorrow as she felt his hand trying to draw her closer than physically possible. "Do not mistake me for a fool, woman. That heart of yours has called to me from the moment I brought you to Hueco Mundo. It has resisted captivity, it has responded to my touch, and it has come after me in a way no enemy before has dared venture…relentlessly, ceaselessly. Tireless against an uphill battle."

Orihime's fists clenched tighter in the fabric of his uniform as she heard the frustration in his words, and could feel the way his jaw clenched as he spoke.

"You speak of love so easily…yet fail to realize my limitations."

Orihime inhaled sharply at the admission, feeling her world spin.

"I cannot have you in the way I desire, and you will settle for no less than the most idyllic version of your heart's aspirations. A Hollow is incapable of ever fulfilling such a role. I will kill the man who has come to rescue you, and watch your love for me dissolve before my eyes. I have used you for this very purpose, and while the thought once brought me satisfaction…I have accepted the reality that my actions will break whatever strength your heart has left in it, and sever my ties with you completely. While I will not allow you to perish, this love of yours will merely be another casualty of war. Even then, I will take you, whether you will have me or not. Because I hunger for you…and this is the only way I know."

Orihime stood frozen, unable to move and scarcely able to breathe as she tried to process what he was saying.

"Sharing your feelings with someone when you're on the verge of death brings some sort of comfort to you humans. It's an instinct to help minimize your fear and sorrow. But in reality, it is impossible to know another's emotions. Empathy is simply a meaningless human delusion. Your empathy for me has been wasted, woman. Save it for your friends…"

For a long stretch of time, all was silent and Ulquiorra closed his eyes as he waited for the inevitable tears.

"I nearly killed Ichigo Kurosaki, and as we speak I can sense him approaching this tower. When he arrives, I will finish what I started. So I want to know, how frightened are you?"

Like usual, her answer was never what he was expecting. "I am not…at all."

When she pulled back from him, Ulquiorra had expected tears of anger and fright to be dancing on her long lashes. Instead, he was transfixed by the hope shining in them, the love that still – somehow – remained, even in the face of his transgressions upon her. There was understanding and acceptance there, unfaltering like a little candle wavering in the face of an unrelenting hurricane – moving with the wind but never allowing it to snuff out her flame.

"You see, now that I know that my friends came to rescue me, I have faith that they will all be ok. Right now, my heart…is with them. It is you who I fear for."

Ulquiorra's eyes widened slowly as he absorbed her words.

"Kurosaki-kun will make you see." With a soft smile, she let her eyes wander to the floor as she recalled his promise. "What you say about humans may be true, but he'll show you that while it might be impossible to feel exactly what someone else is feeling, when people truly care about each other, their hearts grow so close you can't tell the difference between them." This time, when Orihime reached up to gently cup his face in her hands, he didn't push her away. "The last night you held me…I felt everything you felt, I sensed your longing for me and the truth behind all of the feelings you've been denying. I felt that you didn't want to hurt me, not truly. The void that was inside you was nothing in the face of our shared heart. I may not know or even understand everything that goes on inside you, but I know enough."

Ulquiorra's lips parted as he stared at her, and before he even knew he'd moved, his hand was lifting to her face.

"I love you, Ulquiorra. I think that's what it must mean when they say, two people are of one heart. To have a connection so tangible you can feel your souls intertwine. I can feel yours, Ulquiorra. Can you feel mine?"

Carefully, Ulquiorra's cold fingers, calloused by time, grazed her cheek. The backs of his knuckles lightly traced from her temple and down her soft jawline.

"Tell me, what is a heart?" he implored quietly, fervently.

A single tear fell down her cheek at his sincere question, his searching eyes.

"If I split open your skull, would I see it?" he repeated the words she'd once spat at him in the library, so long ago. A part of her distantly wondered if he realized that was likely the reason behind his morbid method of killing his enemies by ripping into their chests – searching, and searching, and searching for something he never possessed. Her bottom lip trembled as she began to realize the true depth of the void inside of him, suddenly laid bare to her in this one moment as he finally and fully allowed her to see into the dark pit of his soul. For a single, overwhelming second, she felt helpless against it; powerless and weak in the face of that insurmountable hollowness.

Slowly, intimately, his hand slid down her chest to press between her breasts. "If I tore a hole in your chest, would it be there?" he whispered the words profoundly, rattling her down to her bones and striking every chord, both sweet and painful, along the way.

Their eyes locked like two tempests meeting and melding into one desperate storm. They moved closer, pulled like a pair of magnets unable to resist. They moved until they were breathing the same air.

Taking his hand between both of hers, she trembled as she lowered it down the front of her body. Her breath became slightly labored as she rested his palm over her abdomen, pressing his hand there tightly under her smaller ones. Her gaze kept his captured, braving the storm and the pain.

"This is the power of the heart, Ulquiorra. Our heart," she said and watched the confusion flicker across his eyes. "You're going to be a fa-"

Rumbling from deep within the tower stopped her short, stealing both of their attention as they sensed Ichigo's wrathful presence closing in on them fast.

"Kurosaki-kun," Orihime whispered as she listened to him barreling his way through floor after floor.

Now distracted, his hand slipped from her belly and Ulquiorra turned his head back just in time to watch an explosion erupt from the ground behind him. The throne room's once quiet atmosphere was filled with the sound of rubble scattering across the tiles as a plume of dust rose to the ceiling.

Flying up from the hole in the floor, Ichigo Kurosaki's uniform splayed out behind him as he entered the room like a stalwart avenger. His eyes were locked on his target the moment he appeared, a confident challenge glimmering in their hardened depths.

When he landed on the once pristine white tiles, Ichigo took the moment to lower his sword and stare intently at his enemy. For a long stretch, no one spoke or moved, allowing the gravity of the situation to settle in. Instead of offering a reprieve, it only prompted the tension to build up to an unbearable level.

Just brief enough for Ulquiorra to catch it, Ichigo's eyes flickered over to Orihime and back to the Cuatro Espada.

Ulquiorra saw it for what it was, he knew what the boy wanted. Now was the culmination of months of build up between them, and although this was the precise reaction that he'd wanted from the Substitute Shinigami – the exact thing he'd hounded the boy for – Ulquiorra internally bristled at the display of ownership Ichigo Kurosaki and his friendship seemed to hold over her.

Ichigo Kurosaki wanted Orihime Inoue back, and he fully intended to cut Ulquiorra down to get her. Everyone in that room knew it, and only Orihime seemed to dread it as much as that scenario should have been. She watched as, right before her eyes, both men seemed to completely forget her existence, and that she was the reason they were determined to slaughter each other to the death.

"Step away from her."

"Does our proximity bother you?"

"Asshole," Ichigo grit out, trying and failing to ignore the taunt. "I'm your opponent now. Step…away."

"I was just about to." Despite his words, Ulquiorra didn't move, provoking him further.

"I doubt that," Ichigo sneered, calling him out just from sheer spite.

"And I doubted that you would survive our last encounter, yet here you are."

"I suppose you're just not as thorough in your work as you present yourself to be," Ichigo countered, already knowing it would get the reaction he wanted.

Turning completely from Orihime now, Ulquiorra took a few steps closer to Ichigo.

"Perhaps I should enlighten you to just how thorough I can be, then."

"Ulquiorra," Orihime uttered tensely. Angling his head only slightly to the side, his eyes slid off his target as his attention unintentionally diverted itself to her when she called his name.

"I didn't figure you as the type to fall for distractions like that, Ulquiorra. You just took your eyes off your enemy." Ichigo took a menacing step forward and grinned victoriously at the frown of disgust that marred Ulquiorra's face. He'd just called him out, again, for getting distracted and it looked to him like the stoic Espada hadn't appreciated it one bit. "Inoue," his voice softened as he looked over at his comrade briefly. "You should probably stay back."

Ulquiorra didn't overlook the distinct shift in the boy's behavior as he looked upon her and spoke her name. Witnessing the way she clutched her chest and demurely nodded upon his request, obedient to his every whim whilst she had defied him at every possible opportunity, struck a chord within him that reminded him just why he wanted to destroy that boy in the first place. To draw out his power to its maximum potential and then crush him before her eyes.

Once, he'd cared little if she loved that boy or he loved her in return. He'd even pursued it clinically, vaguely curious about their mysterious connection that he failed to understand.

Now, it vexed him…greatly.

It was unfamiliar, foreign; the envy that poisoned his blood.

Although his eyes betrayed nothing outwardly, Ulquiorra knew at that moment he would kill that boy. Even if he ripped Ichigo Kurosaki's beating heart from his body right before her eyes, Ulquiorra cared not for the consequences. He'd shown more leniency to either of them than he'd possessed in his entire undead life.

His shows of mercy were over.

"I would tell you to hand her over, but I doubt you're going to give in that easily." Behind him, the dust from Ichigo's grand entrance slowly ebbed off into a hazy, chalky fog. The breeze that wafted in from the massive cavities he'd created floated up from the base of the tower, gently ruffling his hair where he stood.

"What skilled powers of deduction." Ulquiorra watched him detachedly. Nevertheless, the manner in which his gaze remained locked on the boy, and didn't once waver, spoke to the substantial amount of focus he was granting his presence. "My responsibilities are clear. My duty is to protect Las Noches until Lord Aizen returns. I haven't received orders to take the life of this woman, so I will allow her to live…however, you are a different matter." Reaching over, Ulquiorra grabbed the hilt of Murcielago and pulled the blade from its scabbard. Orihime backed up several paces at the sight of his Zanpakuto, its metal glinting in the light, both beautiful and deadly. "Killing you would be absolutely within my duties of protecting Las Noches. You shall die by my sword."

"What a surprise. It's funny, I never figured you would be the first one to draw your sword." Ichigo smirked darkly. "On the way here, I was thinking that you wouldn't take me seriously enough to draw right away."

"Interesting that you seem to finally realize that you stand no chance of beating me, yet you came, anyway."

"Of course I would come for her, even if you stabbed a thousand holes in my chest."

"Kurosaki-kun…" Orihime's voice wavered behind him at the chivalrous confession, and though his hand tightened on his sword, Ulquiorra gave no outward reaction.

"So, tell me, is it reasonable to say that you consider me an opponent that's equal to you?"

"You might say that I consider you an enemy worth destroying."

"That's good enough."

Ichigo lifted his sword, squaring his stance once before launching himself forward.

Ulquiorra met him halfway, his movements swift and silent. Their energies clashed as their blades crossed, the metals shrieking against one another and reverberating even over the loud explosion of their reiatsu.

Behind them, Orihime threw up her shield and watched helplessly as the two men she cared about most in the world went at each other in her name. Their animosity was long growing, and she now served as the catalyst.

She stood back and cupped her hands closely over her heart, silently praying that her friend had the strength to prevail.

"Kurosaki-kun…please, get through to him," she whispered as she watched Ulquiorra immediately overwhelm the boy. Ichigo Kurosaki had a long history of breaking through to people who seemed beyond the scope of redemption. His stubborn yet irreproachable nature had a way of reaching even the worst of men.

Unironically, he had become her last hope again. He was fighting her battles, taking her burdens on as his own. He'd run himself ragged to get to her, fighting enemy after enemy, regardless of how she'd cried to him not to take those hindrances upon himself.

Ulquiorra had suffered the threats upon her life, the times he had protected her when she hadn't even realized he'd interfered. He'd allowed himself to be locked in the dungeons simply for the sake of being with her, knowing the consequences. He'd stolen her heart from Ichigo like a thief, as thoroughly as he'd stolen her from the Living World.

Now, Ichigo was here to get it back…

Now, Ulquiorra seemed less inclined to let her go…

Now, the reasons for the war seemed to fade into the background as the real motives for their rivalry slowly ebbed to the surface with each deadly blow they dealt one another.

The two men fought over her, in her presence; once the excuse, now the cause.

Orihime swallowed back her trepidation and sent up another silent prayer, begging whatever deity that would listen that she would have the strength to weather the outcome of the battle.

..

…

TBC

…

..

My love goes out to all of you. I will be writing the next chapter with the intention of it being the last. I wish you all peace and love.