"If this is not happiness, what is?"
The subtle caress of warm air brushed against his cheeks — remnants of a dream lingering at the edge of his hazy consciousness faded to nothingness as his eyes fluttered open. His blurry vision cleared, met with the sight of slightly parted plump, pink lips a hair breadth's distance away.
Fully awake now, he rapidly assessed the situation.
Not good.
Ulquiorra wasn't sure how many hours had passed since they had been in this position on the couch face-to-face. Orihime was slightly higher up so that her breasts were flush against his chest with her nose dangerously close to tickling his cheek. They lay on their sides with Ulquiorra on the outer edge of the couch. The woman remained fast asleep, her arm draped over his waist and his own arm mirroring hers, their legs tangled in a heap.
He may have made the mistake of overestimating his sense of control. Why the woman thought it would be a good idea to be in such close proximity to a sex addict was beyond his comprehension. Even without such a promiscuous history, any functional human being would find this scenario extremely intimate.
Not good.
Against his will, the familiar throbbing of his groin flared. Blood drained from his face as heat pooled into his lower abdomen, each pulse of his cock growing more intense as it hardened. He shifted, intending to leave before he lost all control, but Orihime grumbled in complaint and tightened her hold on him, unknowingly pressing her hips against him. His eyes slammed shut and he involuntarily shuddered.
No, no, no.
Fully erect and pulsating with such ferocity, his cock was now pinned between her inner thighs. He could feel her warmth there, now almost searing hot. His breath hitched in his throat from the torture. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, willing the devil on his shoulder to cease its inaudible demands.
And yet, he found himself tilting his own hips upwards ever so slightly. He reeled in the groan that threatened to escape past his lips from the heavenly pleasure emitted by the squeeze of her pelvis on his erection.
For the first time in his life, he prayed for mercy from a God he wasn't sure existed.
It was wrong. He won't do it. He wasn't going to do it.
He was not going to dry hump the woman until he came and soaked his own underwear.
Absolutely not.
Those ingrates who found pleasure in women without their consent were beneath him. He had touched her before, but not without holding back, and the woman needed only to say the word and he would respect it.
Unbeknownst to him — probably due to the distractions — Orihime had woken up shortly after him, but by the time she had opened her eyes, Ulquiorra had closed his. She assumed he was still asleep and she didn't want to move in fear of waking him from what seemed to her to be a pleasant dream.
That was, until she felt him. Hard and burning hot.
He was so big.
The young woman surmised he was, indeed, having a good dream, and decided to lay there. But then, Ulquiorra moved.
She held a gasp, the pace of her heart increasing to a sprint when she felt more of was radiating an addictive heat; each twitch of his cock against her clit causing her to become increasingly wet. She was softly panting with him now, their warm and ragged breaths mixing within the minuscule space between them.
Wanting to feel more of him, she faked a sleepy mumble and stretched her legs outwards, only to hike one up and over the side of his thigh. Orihime peeked through her thick lashes to check if he had woken up and was satisfied to see his eyes remained closed and his features relaxed.
Orihime, as naïve and sexually deprived as she was, had a lot fewer reservations towards the predicament. She closed her eyes again and experimentally rotated her hips inwards, roughly brushing her clit up his length. Pleasure surged through her when his erection vigorously throbbed in response and she fell into a slow, deliberate grind. The only thing stopping her now was the thought of relief after achieving a climax.
Ulquiorra, still fighting his demons, lowered his hand from her waist and settled it on her hip, helplessly trying to hold her still without revealing his state of consciousness. He would lose all dignity if the woman found out he had been awake the whole time. He was ignorant of the fact that Orihime remained immune to his efforts, with all her focus concentrated on the bud of an incoming climax.
On the other end, he was amused that the woman's body was unable to resist the allure of his presence. He was under the impression that she was instinctively rolling her hips — a simple animalistic reaction to his apparent arousal that didn't require any conscious effort.
So he continued to lie there, holding her hip with futile effort, as she rode against him over and over and over again. She repeatedly rubbed her clit from the base of his length to the tip. Ulquiorra was growing more sensitive as he was brought closer and closer to the edge with every motion. He swore he could feel her pajamas dampening and soaking through his sweatpants.
Orihime's fist bunched up the hem of Ulquiorra's shirt at his back, her breathing shallow and uneven as she felt a climax rapidly approaching. She was just about ready to throw everything to the wind and demand Ulquiorra to fuck her, a scream building up at the base of her throat and threatening to spill out–
"Ul—"
"Uwaaaah!"
A cry rang out from the baby monitor sitting on the coffee table, drowning out the beginnings of her plea, and Orihime launched herself upwards, haphazardly pushing Ulquiorra off the couch and sending him to the floor.
"Oh my goodness, Ulquiorra! Are you okay?" She innocently hid her bright red face with a hand, her chest still rapidly rising and falling as if she had been startled awake.
After an awkward pause, Ulquiorra quickly sat up and turned away from her, attempting to hide his erection.
"I'm fine. The child might not be, though," he said, refusing to look back at her. Grimmjow's wailing for late-night sustenance continued to emit from the monitor speaker.
"Oh. Right," she muttered as she stood up, finding the stickiness between her inner thighs uncomfortable. She turned to Ulquiorra, who remained sitting cross-legged and facing away from her, "Are you going to be able to go back to sleep?"
"I will manage." No. But judging from the time on the clock, he had already gotten more and better-quality sleep than he had been.
"G-good night then…"
And so they each retreated into their respective rooms, both with intentions to finish on their own what had been unjustly interrupted.
…
Despite the earlier awkwardness, with neither of the two young roommates aware of the other's morning ordeal, both remained in blissful ignorance — so much so that they continued their routine as normal, as if Ulquiorra didn't see the fresh, red glow to Orihime's cheeks, and she didn't notice his pointed lack of eye contact whenever he spoke to her.
Regarding their little agreement for the following nights, Ulquiorra adamantly held his ground in refusing to create another opportunity to repeat the previous night's mistake, even though it had been the best sleep he had in a while. But his female companion was a stubborn force to deal with, pouting while declaring there must be something she could do for him. As far as Orihime was aware, Ulquiorra's embarrassment was a result of waking up to them cuddling on the couch..
"You could get sick if you continue to sleep as little as you did," she said, chewing on her bottom lip with worry. "I want to help you move past your addiction. I know it's been hard on you…"
Orihime knew how well he had slept that night. Not even five minutes had passed when she felt Ulquiorra's body twitching in his slumber and she had to fight the urge to giggle. The young woman followed soon after, somehow nudging Ulquiorra off of her so she could lie down and curl into him, lured by the temptation of a warm body to snuggle with. Cuddling just wasn't that big a deal to her.
"Why do you feel the need to concern yourself with me, onna?"
Ulquiorra knew why she was pushing it. That was who Orihime was. As foolish as he believed it to be, he had already come to terms with that part of her personality — her habit of presenting kindness towards friend and foe alike, sometimes to the point of self-harm by putting her needs beneath others.
"Because you're my friend."
He sighed in exasperation. There it was again, that word. "My answer is still no."
"How about I pull up a chair next to you while you lay in bed?"
His face paled as blood drained from it. "And risk you climbing into bed with me in a half-conscious state? I think not."
"Ulquiorraaa!" She whined. If Ulquiorra were the type of man to do so, he would have called the expression endearing, especially when the name that left those pouting lips was his own. The woman was learning quite an effective means of getting her way, whether or not she was conscious of it. She was dangerous.
"I won't fall asleep, I swear! I'll even set up an alarm just in case— Oh, but I guess that would wake you up…."
Ulquiorra gave her proposition some thought before responding, "If I were sleeping hard enough that you could remove my head from your lap without waking me, somehow, I doubt an alarm would."
Orihime's face illuminated with pure, unadulterated joy, "Okay!"
Such trivial things made the woman so happy. Yet, why did he feel his heart leap in his chest whenever she smiled in his direction? It was a favor for him and she was, once again, putting others before her. He was no better than the man who shamelessly took advantage of her kindness and left her to marry their mutual friend instead.
But Ulquiorra didn't know how to deal with that.
He took. She gave.
That was how it always was.
…
Rukia and Orihime felt they hadn't had enough opportunities to dress up so after a bit of back-and-forth texting, they had settled on meeting at an upscale restaurant. However, the idea backfired for the auburn-haired girl when she realized that her collection of candlelit dinner dresses was minimal at best. Not to mention outdated and ill-fitting on her ever-growing proportions, because how many outfits can one buy on a daycare assistant's salary?
She told Ulquiorra her grievances during dinner that night to which he responded with, what seemed to be, a disinterested grunt with nothing else to say on the matter. Of course, it was her fault for agreeing to the arrangement in the first place, so she had no bitter feelings towards her roommate's apathy.
Even so, she diligently sat at his bedside, her fingers grazing his hairline with utmost care. It was awkward at first, but Ulquiorra was too exhausted to experience the effects of embarrassment for even ten seconds once Orihime began massaging his temples.
The young woman watched him with soft eyes while he slept, continually caressing his jawline with a slender finger. Sometimes she questioned if it seemed appropriate for friends to be doing, but she was able to shrug off those thoughts. Touching Ulquiorra felt natural to her, and seeing him in his slumber with not a crease of stress on his porcelain features, brought a sense of peace and contentment.
She didn't stay longer than five minutes, observing the steady rise and fall of his chest to ensure he was far from waking before returning to her room.
...
Ulquiorra held no grievances towards Orihime's lack of preparedness for the dinner with her estranged friends, however, he did feel an obligation as her faux partner for the night to act out his duty without flaw.
Additionally, the thought of reminding the orange-haired boy of his place amused him greatly.
So it was all according to plan when Ulquiorra came into work the next day with the intention to ask a favor from a certain wardrobe coordinator and designer.
Ulquiorra did occasionally enjoy reminding others of the trash that they were. Naturally, he would not harm her former friend considering how physical altercation would only put the woman in distress. So, he opted for something a little milder. Surely the arrogant fool would feel some remorse if he saw just how brilliantly Orihime shined standing next to him.
The trash had no idea what he had lost. Taking advantage of Orihime's kindness by stringing her along for years only to end up with another within a fraction of that time was a sin on its own. To leave her alone to pick up the pieces of her broken heart and treat her as though they were nothing more than classmates? Those were mistakes that even he could not forgive.
"Hmm," his colleague pressed a manicured nail to his cheek as he gave Ulquiorra's inquiry some thought. "I suppose I can lend you something. Ah! That is if you have something worth an exchange…" The taller of the two smirked with mischief, his bedazzled lashes fluttering down at him as he batted his eyes.
"You know I don't entertain men, Yumichika Ayasegawa."
He laughed into the back of his palm, "Silly boy! I wasn't referring to that! I am forever loyal to Ikkaku after all!" The flamboyant male tapped a finger on his cheek, "This will suffice."
Ulquiorra scoffed, "I will be taking my business elsewhere."
Yumichika rolled his eyes, "Fine! Just take a selfie with me then. Stubborn man. That's why I like you, though," he muttered.
It wasn't difficult for him to describe his roommate's measurements. He had gotten to know her body well enough to guess.
There was that time he shamelessly groped her breasts that gave him a good idea on what her cup and bust size could be. And as of that morning, he was able to estimate her waist and hip size from when he held her in his arms.
Just before he set out for home after work, Yumichika had one more thing to add to the tote bag alongside Orihime's borrowed outfit.
"This outfit should only be worn with equally posh accessories, don't you think?"
Ulquiorra didn't think much about it at all actually as he took the box from his colleague and continued on his way.
…
The evening of the fateful double date had crept upon the faux family of four in no time.
Orihime was in the middle of brushing her hair at the vanity when she heard a single knock at her door.
"I'm coming in," said a deep voice.
"Yes—" She turned to face her roommate, but stopped short, her mouth covered with both of her hands to prevent an eruption of laughter and tears.
Ulquiorra stood at her doorway, dressed in an immaculately chic, black-and-white outfit. The hems of his single pleated black slacks were casually bunched over his black boots. His top consisted of a black turtleneck underneath an open-collared white blouse with its lantern sleeves partially exposing the slender wrists of his hands resting in his pants pockets. His belt provided the only accent of gold color, the double G logo as the buckle. She also noted the multiple piercings styling his ears, glinting gold under the ambient room lighting.
But that wasn't the funny part.
Grimmjow was nestled deeply against his chest into a cloth wrapped securely over his shoulders.
"Eh? Why do you have Grimmjow in a wrap carrier?" Her eyes wrinkled from trying to hold back a snicker. "You don't have to carry him!"
He just looked so funny standing there, face devoid of any expression, with a bubbly baby slung across his chest. The duo was an oxymoron personified.
"Onna, have you given it any thought? Bringing a stroller on the train is more hassle than it is worth." He pulled out a hand from a pocket and reached from behind him to show her the bag that contained her clothes. "Also I will be carrying him because we cannot risk him destroying the jewelry you will be wearing… as well as your hair."
As if on cue, Grimmjow began to tug at whatever ebony locks he could reach, causing Ulquiorra to wince in pain with each strand the baby successfully pulled out.
"Ulquiorra," she breathed out, "You got me something to wear?"
He walked a few steps to place the bag on her bed, "It is borrowed. Not a single stain or sign of damage must be done to it or I may have to deal with the fury of a gay man."
"Oh goodness, we wouldn't want that to happen!" She hopped over to the bed, her eyes shining with glee as she ooh'd and ahh'd at the luxurious fabric. Her jaw went slack when she saw the accompanying double C logo jewelry. She never even dreamed of holding such expensive fashion let alone wearing it! "Thank you so much!"
Ulquiorra checked the time on his gold wristwatch. "I expect you to be dressed within ten minutes."
"No problem!" Orihime gave him an excited thumbs-up. She didn't wear much makeup — a thin sheen of lip gloss and mascara was enough.
When she came out of her bedroom, Ulquiorra's breath was taken away at the sight.
Her high-waisted skirt rested snugly against her thin waist, the black hem billowing around her own black lace-up boots. The white mock-neck top covered her enormous bust while exposing her shoulders and covering the rest of her arms in lantern sleeves that cuffed at delicate wrists.
"I was able to put the earrings on by myself, but I think I'll need your help with the necklace."
She pulled her long waves of copper hair to drape over her shoulder, exposing the nape of her neck to him as he circled his arms around her to place the necklace on. Orihime couldn't help but blush slightly at his proximity and giggle when his knuckles brushed against the sensitive flesh of her neck. Once the necklace was clasped, Ulquiorra took a step back and Orihime turned to face him.
Orihime was already beautiful to him — the most beautiful woman he had ever seen to date — but what little makeup she had on only emboldened her natural, goddess-given features. She was stunning.
"It looks surprisingly good on you."
"Y-you think so?" She blushed, giving him a twirl. "I'm not used to wearing such nice clothes or even clothes that actually fit, but your colleague did a really good job!"
It was all he could say without gushing out an uncharacteristic amount of praise. Orihime's clothes did indeed suit her. He had made sure it would be something she would feel comfortable in. He needed her to be at her best confidence when standing beside him. For a moment he was glad he had set the child down on his play mat as he was sure he was at risk of fainting from the excruciating squeezing sensation within his chest.
"One more thing," he said, fetching something from his back pocket to reveal a small box about the size of his hand.
"More jewelry?"
She gasped loudly upon seeing a simple yet elegant silver bracelet.
"This one you can keep," he said as he pried the trinket from her and placed the box on the coffee table. "On occasion, I receive free gifts from sponsors. I believe this would look better on you than myself. Unfortunate that it is not gold to match–"
"I love it." Orihime said under her breath, a lovely smile on her lips, "Thank you, Ulquiorra."
She held her arm out while he fastened the bracelet on, her breath hitching in her throat at the warm flame burning within her ribcage. She brought her molten golden-brown gaze to meet his and they instantly locked.
The air around them was dense with something unfamiliar and yet electrifying. She wanted to touch him. To show him how grateful she was for everything he had done for her. It was possible that he had ulterior motives; it wouldn't be far-fetched for a sex addict to do whatever it took to get into someone's pants, but somehow, she knew. She saw it swirling within those piercing, green orbs.
Admiration.
Ulquiorra watched with fascination as the woman seemingly glowed before him, her rose-tinted cheeks turning a few shades darker as he held her gaze. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to know if her skin felt as hot as it looked. He wanted to bury his nose into her hair and indulge in every essence of her. To call her his.
He could succumb to the temptation and take advantage of her kindness. Fuck, he wanted to so badly. Looking at her now – her soft smile and eyes full of expectation and hope – he could selfishly take her for himself and he knew she would melt in his hands like ice. She was ripe for him to devour. Within the depths of those caramel eyes lay a dull hunger that had been unsatisfied for far too long. He was sure of it.
But he couldn't do it.
His expression hardened as he squared his shoulders and cleared his throat, effectively dispelling the mood. They had a role to perform that night as pretend lovers. He was determined to execute his role with perfection. Humiliating Ichigo Kurosaki by showing who was the superior male was at the top of his list.
"Tonight, you are mine, onna. And I am yours."
Orihime's face erupted in flames, hands over her mouth in shock at his boldness, "E-Eh?!"
"Do not lose your composure and do not let your guard down for even a second."
"O-Oh you're talking about dinner…" She nervously half-laughed, wiping invisible sweat off her forehead. Ulquiorra only stared back at in silent confusion, unsure of how his words could have been misunderstood.
For a second, she thought he was being romantic, but it turns out he was treating their double date like another mission. Orihime regained her composure and gave him a cheeky smile.
"Okay!"
…
As expected, the train heading towards their destination in Ginza was crowded for a Saturday night. Strangers occasionally threw curious and appreciative glances towards the young couple sporting matching outfits entertaining their child. Ulquiorra paid them no attention, but his chest did swell with an unbridled pride when a group of younger girls complimented Orihime's outfit and cooed at the babbling, blue-haired baby strapped against his chest.
Eventually they arrived at the restaurant. They were definitely dressed for the occasion. Inside, crystal chandeliers illuminated the white cloths of the round tables beneath them, scattering fragments of light around the romantically furnished dining area.
"Remember, I want you to apologize to Kurosaki-kun!" She whispered to him.
"I will make no such promises, but I will do my best to remain approachable."
Soon enough the hostess brought them to their table.
"Inoue!"
"Orihime-chan!"
Orihime and Rukia exchanged hugs while the males eyed each other warily.
"This is Ulquiorra Cifer. My— err, my boyfriend," Orihime faltered for a moment, feeling incredibly awkward far too late for involving her roommate in a lie.
Ulquiorra peered at the petite woman before him. 'So this is Rukia Kuchiki,' he mused.
"Hmm. Nice to meet you. I'm Rukia Kuchiki." Rukia looked him up and down, exhibiting a haughty smile once she had made some sort of internal judgment. Ulquiorra closed her eyes, slightly peeved at the audacity. Ichigo scoffed, shooting a glare at Rukia who returned a crude gesture. It almost seemed like they were communicating telepathically.
"And this must be the one named Grimmjow!" Her demeanor entirely changed as she chirped, lifting herself on her tiptoes to see the infant strapped to Ulquiorra's chest.
Grimmjow turned his head to Rukia, his eyes shining with apprehension, but otherwise made no reaction. That was, until Ichigo stepped up to greet the child who immediately fussed with displeasure, wriggling about perilously within his carrier. Orihime quickly unwrapped Grimmjow free and began to rock him. Ichigo was left standing awkwardly, not sure what he did to provoke the little guy again.
"Sorry, I think he's hungry!" She said, fetching a bottle from her bag.
"Well, aren't we all? Come sit and let us feast!" Rukia declared, handing Ulquiorra their menus as they all took their seats.
Once they had ordered, the conversation resumed. A year's worth of mundane events were covered in the span of 20 minutes, topics ranging from Ulquiorra's career to what Orihime had been up to. Ulquiorra was just about to excuse himself and go to the restroom out of sheer boredom when Rukia decided to shine the spotlight on him,
"So. Who's the baby momma, Cifer-san?"
Ichigo lightly punched her on the shoulder. "Hey! You can't just go around asking people that! That's rude!"
Rukia rubbed her beaten shoulder and stuck her tongue out at Ichigo. Ulquiorra simply stared. They deserved each other.
Orihime, meanwhile, turned to look at him with the same curiosity. She had never talked about it in depth with her roommate. To her, at least a few weeks ago, it didn't matter. But when Rukia had asked the tough question for her, she couldn't fight it any longer.
Ulquiorra looked at Orihime, who was cradling the blue-haired child in her arms. His frown deepened. It wasn't a topic he was particularly fond of, but he supposed the woman at least deserved an explanation if she wanted it.
Closing his eyes, he breathed out with a cool nonchalance, "He's not mine."
"EHHhh!?" Rukia and Orihime exclaimed simultaneously.
Ichigo's eyes darted between the two girls, confusion clear on his face, "Wait, why are you surprised, Inoue?"
"I-I didn't know! I thought Grimmjow was yours, Ulquiorra" She squeaked out, exasperated. "You never told me…"
"You never asked."
Orihime gaped at him.
Ulquiorra rehashed the events leading up to how he ended up with the child, conveniently glossing over when Orihime had come into his life to avoid any suspicions on their relationship timeline. As far as Ichigo and Rukia knew, Orihime had been his girlfriend not too long after the arrival of the infant.
When he mentioned the letter that was found in the baby's diaper, claiming that the child was his, Ichigo raised a skeptical eyebrow,
"How are you so sure that he's not your kid?"
Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes at him, slightly offended by the orange-head's doubtfulness.
"I'll have you know that I underwent a procedure a few years back and I use protection. The chances of conceiving are abysmal. Less than 1 in 1000."
"But there's still that small chance," Orihime quipped. Ulquiorra sent her a look.
"Can't you just prove he's not yours with a DNA test and report child abandonment?" Rukia asked.
"Perhaps," Ulquiorra sipped from his tea before elaborating, "But I would like to know the face of the trash that thought they could get away with it."
His words were undoubtedly threatening, hinting that he was going to do more than 'get to know the face'.
Ichigo let out a low whistle, impressed with his resolve.
"As you can see, the child's hair is blue. It's hair dye." The other three leaned in to further inspect the child with interest. That much was obvious, but they immediately understood where Ulquiorra was going with that statement.
"So… it'll be a few more months until we see the true hair color," Orihime stated.
"Well, what then? What if his hair is black?"
Ulquiorra slumped slightly in his seat. "Admittedly, I may be at an impasse if that were to happen. There are other traits dissimilar to mine to look for as well. However, I can confidently say I have not taken many black-haired women to bed as I prefer—"
"Just how many have you taken?!" Ichigo was seething.
Ulquiorra only smirked at the ginger's growing discontent, immediately seeing the effect as Ichigo's nostrils flared from mere anger to rage. The younger male's reaction only served to entertain him.
Malice was building now knowing that Orihime had subjected herself to helping some stranger's kid.
It was then that the server decided it was a good time to deliver their food. They all ate in silence, the air thick with tension. Ichigo occasionally sent threatening looks over his pasta at Ulquiorra who silently tended to his salad while Rukia and Orihime engaged in unrelated chatter, attempting to lighten the mood.
After the dishes were picked up and Orihime had her dessert, Ichigo stood up abruptly from his seat. The abrupt end to the previous conversation left him to stew in concern over his childhood friend, and distrust towards her new partner.
"Let's take this party outside, shall we?" Rukia quickly interjected before Ichigo instigated anything and proceeded to drag him outdoors whilst ignoring his protests.
The restaurant featured a garden complete with a large fountain where Rukia had managed to drag her uncooperative husband to.
The petite woman grabbed a steak knife from her coat pocket and jabbed it just short of reaching Ichigo's chin. Startled, the orange-headed man raised his hands up defensively.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Did you steal that from the table—"
"You better not ruin my reunion with Orihime-chan by imposing your self-righteous duty to protect every living being within fifty feet of you, Ichigo!"
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that, Rukia." Ichigo swatted the weapon away from his face. "I absolutely have no intention of protecting that guy. Is he even alive?! He looks like the walking dead to me!"
Just in time, the other couple followed shortly after, having to take another minute to wrap Grimmjow back up and around Ulquiorra. Ichigo turned sharply to the dark-haired male; his voice laced with venom.
"Urahara-san told me all about you when I bumped into him the other day. I thought I would give you the benefit of the doubt, but now I'm not so sure. How do I know you won't hurt Inoue? You haven't shown any remorse! And the fact that you've slept with so many women that you don't even know who the mother might be… Argh!"
Ichigo yelled in frustration, ruffling his orange hair with his hands.
Orihime stepped up, holding her hands up in an effort to placate her friend, "U-Ulquiorra is working on it! Really! He's not so bad—"
"You can't seriously be dating this playboy, Inoue. Are you?!"
On cue, Ulquiorra jumped at the opportunity. He wrapped an arm around Orihime's waist and pulled her close, careful to not squish Grimmjow.
"You would doubt her judgment?" He challenged, pressing his lips to her hair.
Orihime squeaked in surprise at his boldness, an explosion of color filling her cheeks as her heart leapt in her chest. She was not expecting Ulquiorra to be so publicly forward.
"I'll have you know that she was the one who came onto me. She was the one who climbed into my lap, refusing to let me go until I gave her what she wanted."
Orihime's jaw dropped in embarrassment. He wasn't exactly incorrect, but he definitely manipulated the actual events to sound like they were more than just making a deal to become roommates.
Ichigo gawked and grew increasingly bitter by the second, pointing an accusatory finger at him, "H-Have you no shame?!"
Rukia stood in the background, dampening a snicker with her hand.
Orihime released herself from Ulquiorra's hold and approached Ichigo.
"Kurosaki-kun. Let's talk. Just you and me… Please?"
Ichigo's irritation subsided for a moment as he looked at Orihime and lowered his arm.
"Sure, Inoue. Lead the way."
The former lovers walked just out of earshot away from their dark-haired partners, but Orihime didn't want to get settled by sitting down. She had to steel her nerves knowing she was about to confront Ichigo yet again, but on her own terms. Doing it was going to hurt. She knew this, but it was a necessary means to an end.
"Inoue, if you're in danger—"
"He's not my boyfriend, okay? He was just messing with you…" She balled her hands into fists. "But I won't forgive you if you continue to insult my friend!"
She was pretending so well, too. And Ulquiorra… he made it look so easy. He pulled the chair out for her, passed her a napkin when she needed it, and even remembered to ask for the dessert menu for her. Anyone would have guessed they were lovers.
She didn't see the point in lying to Ichigo any longer. Her resolve was crumbling with every second she spent with Rukia and Ichigo, knowing they were happily married and she was still alone.
But talking with Rukia again, seeing how happy they were — Orihime didn't have it in her to keep up the facade against two of her most precious friends.
Ichigo stepped back, surprised at her outburst. He had never witnessed such energy from the young woman before. It only fueled his belief that the dark-haired man she had been spending time with was not a good influence after all.
"Why did you lie?"
Tears were already beginning to form no matter how hard she was trying to hold them back. She couldn't tell him she was embarrassed of her predicament; that she had been reduced to relying on a stranger's wallet and preoccupying herself with a baby to distract herself from the fact that she still wasn't over him. He was able to move on and get married. She was still struggling. Worst of all, she was still hoping there was something left to salvage, and that morsel of delusion alongside her fake family were the only things that kept her feeling that everything was going to be okay.
Orihime clenched her teeth so hard, she thought she might break a few. Her shaking hands fisted her dress at her side and she gritted out in a small voice, "Were you faithful to me, Kurosaki-kun?"
"What?" His eyes widened in surprise, "Inoue, I—"
"Orihime," she spun around, her fierce eyes betrayed by the glistening of tears that threatened to spill, "It's Orihime! Why are you calling me by my surname?"
"I call all my friends by their surname," he replied sheepishly, frowning.
"Except Rukia-chan."
Ichigo scratched his chin nervously. "Ino— Orihime, you know things are different when it comes to her."
Orihime bristled at this, but was too upset to say anything. Ichigo sighed,
"I don't know why I reverted back to it. I had been using your surname for most of our time together so I guess it felt more natural. Old habits die hard, I guess." He sighed again, rubbing the back of his head in shame.
Orihime was crumbling away inside. There were so many implications to what he just said. Did he just admit he doesn't give her the time of the day to even remember where they stood honorific-wise? Was it really more natural for him to call her as he would any classmate?
She just stood there dumbfounded as a single tear finally rolled down her cheek. Ichigo's eyes grew wide. Placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, he spoke, "Orihime. I didn't cheat on you. The thought never, ever crossed my mind."
She was taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. Ichigo wasn't the type to lie, especially to the ones he cared for.
Orihime looked down, tears now dripping from her chin and onto the pavement below, "Then… why did we break up?"
"Orihime, you are the only one who knows why. You're the one who broke up with me."
"Yes, because…!" She lifted her head to look at him, "I couldn't stand seeing you so sad. The smiles you give me are so different from the ones you give to Rukia-chan. It just seemed so sad…!" A sob was stuck at the base of her throat. "Why did you let me go? Why did you make me move out?"
"You really want to know the reason why, Orihime? It was all too much for me at the time. It still is!" His expression hardened as he continued, "You were always a few steps ahead of me, always ready to take it to the next step. You know I had a lot going on back then and you have no idea how much pressure weighed on me knowing I wasn't at the same emotional level as you were, and that I wasn't capable of providing you with what you wanted. It was overwhelming! It killed me to know I let you down each time, that I couldn't meet your expectations. I just didn't and still don't.. I can't. With Rukia, it just feels natural, you know? I don't feel that kind of responsibility with her. Things are still the same between us as before except we've got a piece of paper changing our marital status on official forms!"
Tears were free-falling past Orihime's chin and dripping to the pavement. "What… do you mean? Are you saying you've always thought of each other as…together?"
Ichigo ran a hand through his hair, shyly averting his gaze to the side, "I guess… the reason why it didn't work out between us is… I don't think I experience romance and relationships the same way you do? I don't know… I haven't really talked about it. I'm just not that enthusiastic about all of that stuff. If you know what I mean."
She blinked, her vision clearing momentarily.
It sort of did make sense.
"And you were just so forward with… that kind of thing," he blushed, ashamed. "Pretty lame, huh?"
"N-No, not at all!" She stammered. "I mean… It's a hard pill to swallow, but I think I understand. I just wish you would have told me that back then."
"I just came to terms with it recently. I still don't really understand all this stuff, y'know." He laughed but it was with a sort of self-deprecation that was familiar to her. Then he resumed a more serious composure,
"You deserved better than that, Orihime. Truly. As for why you had to move out, you were taking it pretty badly. You would break up with me and then return the next day as if nothing happened, smiling, joking around… And then we'd argue, you'd fall apart, break up with me, and repeat it all over again. I could tell it was messing you up really badly and I just had to let you go for your sake."
"Goodness…" she said in a small voice, "That was really pathetic of me."
Ichigo softly smiled and pulled her into a hug, something she never thought she'd truly feel again. Her tears resumed as she buried her nose into the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around him.
"I'm sorry we couldn't make it work."
"It's… It's okay. I think. Honestly, I thought we could have made it work. It was hard, you know. You always looked like you were looking beyond me, and while you were looking for a thousand reasons to stay, I only needed you as my one."
"I genuinely care about you. I hope you know that."
She let out a breathy laugh. "I know… It's just that I loved you. More than you loved me. And you know what?" She turned to him, her eyes bright with the city lights reflecting off the teardrops, "That's fine."
He pulled back and gave her another small, wistful smile, "At least we tried, right?"
She nodded with enthusiasm, "Yes! And I'll be forever grateful for the opportunity!"
Ichigo's expression wilted.
"Orihime… I'm really sorry."
"It's alright. One day, I'll be happy again."
"I know you will."
"Thank you for everything, Ichigo."
Meanwhile, Ulquiorra was leaning against the building wall with his young passenger snoozing quietly against his chest. He didn't intend to eavesdrop — in fact, he couldn't hear them at all other than the few snippets whenever Orihime would raise her voice in distress, nearly prompting him to immediately come to her aid, but he restrained himself from reacting so brashly.
He sighed as he checked his watch. It was getting late.
Ulquiorra's gaze wandered to his side, eyeing the crown of black hair belonging to the woman next to him whose lavender eyes were glued to her phone.
"It doesn't bother you?"
"What?" A game over sound emitted from the device in her hand and she groaned in irritation, "Aw, damn it!" Rukia angled her head upwards to look at him, "Does what bother me?"
Ulquiorra motioned to the orange-haired couple in the distance.
"Oh, that? Nope." She started another game without so much as a shrug.
He narrowed his eyes at her. He wasn't sure why he asked. She was obviously unbothered. Maybe he hoped she would fetch her man so they could all go home.
"What about you?" Rukia asked, finally pausing her game to entertain him. "You look like you're about to snatch the girl and run away with her."
His viridian gaze drifted back over to his roommate and he clenched his fists in his pockets. She was crying.
"You guys aren't really together, are you?" She added after a moment's silence.
'An insightful one. Was I too obvious?' He pondered before answering her. "What gives you the impression we are not?"
She shrugged. "Because while you have yet to take your eyes off of her, she hasn't stopped looking at Ichigo either. Plus, I know her. The girl loves hard. Ichigo might be dense, but I knew she would take the news pretty hard. It was unfortunate she ran into Ichigo the way she did."
Ulquiorra leaned his head back against the wall unsure how to respond. So it wasn't him that gave it away, but Orihime… Did he really look that pathetic? Pining after a woman who was still in love with another... Ridiculous.
"Do you love her?" Rukia asked.
"No."
"Do you like her?"
"No."
"Do you find her attractive?"
"The woman and I have made an arrangement," he stated flatly.
"Hnnn?" Rukia wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him, "You didn't say no that time. Interesting…! Not there yet, huh?" She shrugged again, but her playful smile remained, "It can't be helped, I suppose."
Ulquiorra's hairs stood on end as he witnessed Ichigo pull Orihime into a soul-crushing embrace. Why were they hugging? They no longer looked upset; their voices lowered to a whisper.
He closed his eyes to block out the scene, his patience thinning by the second.
"She's not my type".
Rukia waved her hand dismissively at him, "Yeah, yeah. I've heard that one before."
She playfully poked his chest to regain his attention and he spared a single eye to look at her.
"Hey, lover boy, let me give you a tip–"
She began to list out details of the woman he had already speculated to be true, but had no means or intentions to confirm, such as her fixation with red bean paste and her ability to sew. She covered a variety of topics concerning her history with being bullied and financial troubles. Learning that there was a point that Orihime had her hair cut short as a result of being bullied upset him to a certain degree. He couldn't fathom the abuse of those beautiful locks of molten gold.
He was fully turned towards Rukia listening with earnest intrigue when Orihime and Ichigo stepped up to reunite with them.
"Ulquiorra! It's so nice to see you getting along with Rukia-chan."
If it weren't for his ever-observant eyes, he would have missed the slight jealous twitch of her brow upon seeing them.
Orihime exchanged goodbyes with the other pair, promising them that she would not remain a stranger and would contact them more frequently. They finally departed just in time for the next train back to Karakura Town to arrive. Though Ichigo and Rukia lived in the same town, they had decided to stay in Tokyo for a while longer.
The ride home was silent. Too silent, Ulquiorra observed. He looked at her as she quietly entertained Grimmjow with peekaboos and smiles. If Orihime were distressed, to the inexperienced, she showed absolutely no signs of it. But he knew from the slight quiver of her lip and the dampness of her waterline that she was barely keeping herself together.
"Just as I thought… I was hopelessly in love with him." He heard her mutter to herself dismally, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes on her features as she grazed a finger against the child's puffy cheeks.
His chest squeezed painfully. The usage of the word 'was' stuck out to him the most, but he wouldn't dwell on the small bead of hope while the woman next to him was in pain. His lips formed a tight line as he turned to look outside the window and watch the buildings fly past.
They had barely taken their shoes off at the genkan when Orihime found herself unable to stand back up. She sat on her haunches, hunched over in a sob, her face in her palms. Ulquiorra just stood there, watching her awkwardly for a moment before walking away and leaving her there on the floor. Her weeping became a little louder, despairing in loneliness that she had hoped to never experience again.
But Ulquiorra returned shortly after, with Grimmjow no longer strapped against his chest. He lowered himself to her level and squeezed her shoulder firmly. She startled slightly, not expecting his presence.
"Come."
He helped her up and escorted her to the couch. Orihime's sobs and sniffling were the sole source of noise in the room as they sat without talking for what seemed like a long time.
Ulquiorra had absolutely no idea what to do in these situations. In his past experience, whatever he said would only anger women. So, to avoid recreating that with Orihime, he had opted for silence; his presence would be the only thing he could offer.
When her lamenting had seemingly dulled to a manageable level, she wiped her eyes on her sleeve and looked at Ulquiorra somberly,
"I'm sorry. I'm such a mess. I'm really pathetic, aren't I? Acting like it's the end of the world…"
Tears welled up in her eyes all over again. She was getting angry and frustrated with herself now – why did she always feel so compelled to cry?
At the same time… she was happy? It was all so confusing. She felt like she was choking from the overwhelming pressure of her own emotions.
"Why do you cry?"
Ulquiorra watched her carefully, his green eyes gazing calmly into her swollen and irritated eyes. She was crying as if her relationship had ended all over again. What had Ichigo said to her to make her so upset?
She laughed at his innocent question, collecting another tear on her sleeve before it fell from her chin.
"Honestly? I-I don't know!" She laughed again, much to Ulquiorra's confusion. "I think… I think I'm relieved? Frustrated at myself for being so pathetic, but… relieved." She sighed and leaned her head back onto the sofa.
"I don't understand."
"Closure. I think that's what it's called." She moved a strand of her hair behind her ear. "It feels weird. I feel like I can finally move on, yet… I feel empty." She placed a hand on her chest.
Ulquiorra watched her with a forlorn expression as she sobbed into her palms.
"Without it— without my love for Kurosaki-kun, I am nothing. Everything about me revolved around him. My personality was loving him. Without that, I'm just an empty shell of a girl And I'm just now realizing that."
The man she loved was as good as gone; stolen by another woman whose fateful encounter with Ichigo Kurosaki was, to her perspective, poor timing — during the midst of her youth.
Who wouldn't rejoice at the freedom of being relieved of such emotional burden? But here she was, falling into pieces from the unbearable pressure of experiencing all of them at once.
He thought he would have relished this moment. The moment where she was forced to kneel before the truth of her unconditional love and that her kindness was a blessing to others as much as it was a curse on her own being.
He thought he would have taken pleasure observing her wither away in utter anguish, collapsing under the pressure of true despair.
He thought he would have achieved the satisfaction of watching her crumble under the mercy of such needless emotions and the disappointment of unrealized, unrealistic dreams.
And then Orihime Inoue would say: You are right, Ulquiorra. There is no point to this life.
But he didn't. The metaphorical hole in his chest ached at the sight. Before he realized it, he began to reach out to her.
His fingers stretched towards her, reaching to connect and console, but he stopped just short of grazing against her shirt sleeve, his fingers curling into a hard fist and dropping to his side instead.
This wasn't what she needed.
What Orihime Inoue needed was a harsh reality check.
Ulquiorra grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, slightly shaking her out of her reverie to gain her attention.
"That is a lie, onna," he bit out, "Your worth isn't defined by some petty obsession you have for another man."
Orihime looked up at him, her tear-laden eyes staring at him in trepidation.
"Your strength lies here," Ulquiorra continued, placing his fingers gently on the area beneath her collarbone. "Your strength is your unlimited kindness and your empathy. You have the ability to melt the hearts of everyone around you; the ability to bend them to your will without lifting a finger."
She gazed in wonder until she finally pulled away.
"How would you know?" Orihime asked softly.
Ulquiorra was at a loss for an answer. The cold-hearted male wasn't yet ready to admit aloud that he might be a product of her good deeds, so he resorted to what he did best – reminding others of the reality by speaking the truth.
"I do not lie, woman. These eyes see everything, and, in you, I see a strong woman."
She looked at him again with a tinge of pink coloring her cheeks.
"I see a woman who enjoys sharing her experimental concoctions as much as she loves eating. A woman who unconditionally cares for others without asking for anything in return and has immeasurable patience. A woman who dreams big, silly dreams, but has a heart of solid gold. You are capable of loving things who aren't even yours to love. Who have done nothing to deserve it. You are too good for this world, Orihime Inoue."
'You are too good for me.'
Her lips parted with surprise when he said her name.
"Onna, I am not here to comfort you. I am only reminding you of the truth you seem to have conveniently forgotten."
Ulquiorra held her gaze firmly, as if steadily looking into her eyes would provide more significance to his words. He was being earnest. Truly. It was as though he had wanted to say them for a long time and he had finally been granted the opportunity to do so. In another life, and in the current, he may have been too silent, unable to conjure the right ones to reflect his… emotions.
Empathy. That's what it was. He was feeling empathy towards the woman.
Orihime averted her eyes downward for a moment as fresh tears began to well up for an entirely different reason. She wiped them away with her sleeves only for her to replenish with more and she couldn't stop herself from laughing ironically as she continually swiped at the endless waterworks.
For once, he was being too kind. But it was all she needed and she was so grateful for it. Overwhelmed with the bittersweet happiness of the moment, she just couldn't stop crying. All she ever seemed to do is cry, and the fact that it only made her look more pitiful and deplorable made her cry even more. Her roommate, whom she had barely even known for a month, was being so uncharacteristically patient for her. For her sake.
There was a fire burning in her gut, threatening to consume her entire being, and she just didn't have the capacity to understand all the emotions she was experiencing.
Ulquiorra was confused. He intended to stop her lamenting and it was a great difficulty to find the right words, let alone actually voice them aloud. He stared at her, eyes scanning her trembling body for any hint of the appropriate action to take in this scenario. Was she starved for physical touch as well as spiritual enrichment? Did she need a hug? Or worse, did he say something to hurt her? No... that couldn't be it…
Eventually she deemed her efforts futile and burst into a loud sob, throwing herself onto Ulquiorra's chest where she continued to dampen the fabric of his shirt.
"T-thank you… Ul–Ulquiorra… Thank you… you have no idea how happy that makes me…" She repeatedly chanted words of gratitude between muffled sobs into his chest.
His green eyes grew wide with surprise and his hands twitched awkwardly from the confines of his pockets.
What was she so thankful for? And if she is grateful, why was she crying?
Emotions were such a burden.
He breathed out a low sigh. At that point, it only felt natural for him to remove a hand from his pocket and place it on the back of her head. He combed his fingers through her auburn tresses, similarly to what she would do to him for him in the night. Orihime stilled at his touch, hiccupping quietly.
Did he mess up? Should he not have touched her?
Before Ulquiorra could retract his hand, Orihime lifted her head up to look at him, their lips within close proximity. His breath hitched when their eyes met, taken aback by the half-lidded expression on her features.
His touch triggered something in her — a hunger that had been ignored for far too long. She was starving for more.
She was vulnerable.
Orihime was leaning in to close the distance between their lips, her lashes fluttering as she slowly closed her eyes. Ulquiorra roughly grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back, frowning. He was not going to take advantage of the woman in this state.
"Onna, you should go to sleep."
His heart squeezed painfully as he watched her face fall in disappointment from his rejection.
"You're right," she said, unable to look at him. She looked like a wilted flower.
"Can you at least come with me?"
He remained silent for a few seconds as he chose his words carefully. He couldn't believe he was denying the opportunity in the first place, but it just didn't seem right to.
"I don't think that would be wise in your current condition."
Orihime nodded knowingly and sighed deeply. It was a little embarrassing to be rejected the way she was, but no one would blame her for misreading the situation. He always looked at her so passionately. Despite his usually dull expressions, she had become familiar with every minute change in his features. She swore he was the one leaning in to kiss her and she was just reciprocating his movements. Was she that far off? Did he change his mind at the last second? She could understand that. After all, it was true that she wasn't in the right state of mind.
"Then... just stay with me for a bit longer…" she said drowsily. The exhaustion was quickly settling in. Orihime didn't even wait for his response before she laid her head beneath his chin.
"You should get changed first."
"Mmm…" She brought her feet up the couch and curled into his lap, yawning, "I'm too lazy…"
Becoming a no-strings-attached rebound would have been the best-case scenario for a sex addict, and allowing her to use him as a temporary means to satisfy her needs would have been better than no opportunity at all. Men and women would grovel at the chance for a taste of her and he had just pushed her away.
Since when had he become a man who cared about mundane things like right and wrong? When it came to her, a lot of things stopped making sense.
"I can hear your heart…" Orihime breathed out, falling asleep to the muted thudding of the organ pumping in his chest.
He waited for a few minutes until he was sure Orihime had fallen into a deep sleep before taking her into his arms and carrying to her bedroom. After tucking her in, he made sure she had a cup of water on her nightstand and quietly went through her drawers to pull out a pair of her usual sleepwear, which he placed beside her on the bed in case she woke up hot and wanting to change.
The infant was sleeping well, also exhausted from the new experiences of the evening. At nearly four months old, he was beginning to master the habit of sleeping through the night, much to the relief of the household.
Ulquiorra looked back just before closing her room door shut, wondering if he made the right decision.