Revised 3/2025


"What."

It wasn't even a question.

The woman's voice wavered when she spoke, but her eyes retained their natural shimmer of determination bolstered by bundled fists set in their now, apparently, shared lap.

"I-I said I need a place to stay."

"I fail to see how this will benefit me," he muttered after a few seconds of silence.

Without hesitation, she climbed onto his lap, effectively trapping him—his only exits blocked by the child to his right and the couch's armrest to his left. He considered pushing her off, but the weight of her presence, both physically and in her persistence, made him pause. If nothing else, he was momentarily entertained by her reckless audacity—going so far as to place herself in such an awkward position, all for the sake of making him listen.

With a sex addict no less. She said it herself.

Ulquiorra pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Why did women have to be such a hassle?

Satisfied that he was at least willing to listen, Orihime slid off his lap. With a tenderness that felt almost intrusive to witness, she brushed her index finger lightly across Grimmjow's forehead, eliciting a soft gurgle from the infant. A wistful smile crossed her lips, but her next words were anything but gentle.

"This baby is yours."

Ulquiorra's eye twitched, but he remained silent.

"I know you don't want to take care of him," she pressed on, her voice unwavering. "And your… presence makes it difficult for him to find a loving home. So, to save him," she stressed, her gaze sharpening, "I want to care for him until he's at least a toddler… but ideally, he needs a father figure too."

"The typical age of a toddler is three years."

Orihime nodded enthusiastically, her eyes still glistening with resolve. "I'm having trouble with my living arrangements at the moment so I think being a live-in nanny would work for both of us."

Ulquiorra's face darkened. "Right."

There was absolutely no way this woman and the bastard child was going to stay with him for that long.

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it right away as he found he couldn't.

Perhaps he could surrender the baby? That was a possibility, wasn't it? Even though the child wasn't his?

No.

She had a point. On top of all the reasons he hadn't gone to the police, adoption and foster care were next to non-existent options. If a child had so much as a great-aunt or a distant half-cousin, custody would be transferred immediately. But if—by some cruel twist—this child did turn out to be his…

Then, there was a thought.

His gaze shifted to the child's hair. His unnatural blue hair.

Most hair dyes took about three months to grow out. Sometimes, the natural color began to show at the roots even sooner. If the baby's hair started coming in red or blonde, he could at least narrow down the possibilities and return the child to its mother. However, if the hair ended up being black…

Well, that was something to deal with when the time came.

And time was exactly what the woman before him was offering.

Orihime meanwhile fidgeted in place, trying to ponder any nuance to the man's face. She knew Ulquiorra wouldn't want anything to do with the baby, but she tried to employ what she had to make sure the deal sounded good to him. After all, it was a bit too much to ask for.

"And you… will stay here for three years?" he inquired, expressionless, her words managing to sink into his head. He was beginning to feel light-headed.

She nodded once again.

"Don't you have any other friends? Male ones? A partner?" The question was left unsaid—What would they say?

Blood rushed to Orihime's face and she placed a hand on her cheek as if to cool the warmth.

"No… No, guy friends," she sighed, averting her gaze. "My best friend and…only friend I'd trust enough with this is out of the country, and my ex-fiancé kicked me out the other week. Urahara-san has been kind enough to house me, but I don't want to be a burden to him anymore."

He hadn't even thought to ask about her family—more out of reflex than oversight. He had none himself, after all. But she's okay with burdening me? A complete stranger?

Ulquiorra stared at her, utterly perplexed. She had no other options, no male friends, and an ex-fiancé who had thrown her out? What kind of convoluted drama had he stumbled into? He wasn't even an actor, yet every instinct told him to steer clear of these kinds of roles.

"Sorry, Cifer-san," she blanched, rubbing her knees together nervously "But, if not you, do you know anyone that wouldn't mind a roommate and a baby?"

Ulquiorra let out a defeated sigh. He didn't appreciate the guilt trip, but she had undeniably cornered him and she was looking particularly pitiful with her round, doe-like eyes and pouty lips.

"I never bothered wasting my time making friends." he replied with a nonchalance despite how sad it must sound to someone like her. Not that she could talk, could she? "The closest thing I have to a friend is a bartender. But... he's a rather questionable person, to say the least. And yet, married, for what it's worth." Large green eyes fixed onto hers, hints of suspicion trackable through them. "You don't even know me, how could you even think of such an absurd deal with a stranger? Much less a stranger's friends."

A hypersexual stranger, at that.

"Are you not afraid?"

It was a valid question—despite recognizing that he had a problem, one so severe that he'd be willing to abandon his own child, Orihime had never truly considered him a threat. The man she'd just straddled, despite his obvious flaws, hadn't shown any sign of interest in her. He didn't seem like the type to enjoy such an encounter; there was no game to be played. He was clearly a playboy, but that didn't mean he'd suddenly turn violent or use her as leverage.

In fact, he hadn't even asked about her family, which seemed odd given the situation. Not that she had any family left to speak of.

Orihime blinked up at him, her expression unreadable for a moment before she let out a soft chuckle. "Should I be?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Ulquiorra's frown deepened. She was either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish. Perhaps both. "Yes," he said flatly, watching her reaction carefully.

She hummed in thought, idly drumming her fingers against the baby's back. "Maybe a little," she admitted, though the glint in her eyes held no trace of fear. "But if I let fear dictate my decisions, I'd never get anything done. Besides, you don't seem like the kind of person who hurts people just for fun."

His jaw twitched. "You know nothing about me."

"And yet, here I am." Her lips quirked into a small smile. "And here you are, still listening."

That was the frustrating part. He was still listening. Even though every logical bone in his body told him to throw her out and forget this ever happened, something kept him rooted in place. He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his dark hair. "You're ridiculous."

"Maybe," she mused. "But I think I'd rather be ridiculous than heartless."

His fingers twitched.

It was an indirect accusation, but it hit a nerve nonetheless. She hadn't said it with malice, nor did she wear an expression of judgment as if she had already accepted whatever version of him she had pieced together.

He should have been annoyed. Instead, he found himself begrudgingly intrigued.

But Orihime needed a place to stay. She couldn't bother her coworkers any longer. It only served her right for making such naïve decisions to completely move out of her old apartment and into her fiancé's. Being a daycare assistant wasn't exactly the greatest source of income so she was wholly unprepared for the notion of a new lease.

Ulquiorra glowered at her, not amused at her apparent internal struggles or the promise of emotional insecurity he'd have to wake up to every day, yet with every passing second, he grew more favorable towards the deal.

Besides, he could still find a way around the matter of his hobby. Hotels existed. She didn't know where he worked. It would stay that way. Roommates. Nothing more.

"Not three years," he finally said, breaking the silence. Her eyes filled with hope. "As for money, it is of no consequence to me. I will cover all the food, housing expense, and the child's material needs, but if you want something for yourself, that will be your responsibility. My house, my rules. Is that clear, woman?"

Orihime gaped at him. She had given him the benefit of the doubt and chalked up his unsolicited tact to social awkwardness, but now she wasn't so sure what his problem was. 'Woman'? Not only had he omitted any pleasantries since she came to his doorstep, but now he was excluding honorifics altogether. The guy definitely had some nerve talking that way to someone who had been nothing but kind to him–outlandish favors and late night drop-ins aside.

"Well, it's in this woman's nature to be unconditionally compassionate, so I'll ignore that 'nickname', but fine. You have a deal."

She smiled brightly. Ulquiorra's eyes widened in response; her reaction was… unexpected.

He definitely despised her. It was the kind of wholehearted personality that belonged to an overly affectionate golden retriever, not a human being. Without restraint he knew he was the exact definition of an asshole. How does she not break? It wasn't just the fact her personality clashed strongly against his, but her sense of justice against his perceived evil. She was soft and pure, and he was hardened coal. She was beautiful. And yet there was still her bite… It annoyed him greatly. She made him feel miserable, and all he wanted in that moment was to return the favor, to make her feel even a fraction of the discomfort he'd been carrying around.

To Ulquiorra's reluctance, she handed the slumbering child to him and he gazed down blankly at it. She watched as he held the baby awkwardly and stared with an uneasy expression.

The silence was deafening. The only sound that occasionally broke the awkwardness was the ticking of a clock and the sound of Yammy's snoring as he slept underneath the table.

Holding an infant felt foreign to him and he detested it. The child was warm in his arms, randomly twitching in the way that infants do. He never wanted to be a father; he lacked the paternal desire and instinct to be a good one, and there wasn't anything Ulquiorra was bad at.

Resentment.

Ulquiorra startled at the strong emotion, but quickly recovered. Something else new that he had to purge before it consumed his senses. Rejection was the best way to handle these situations. It wasn't the child's fault it was abandoned. It wasn't the child's fault its life was in the process of being turned upside-down.

His own life was perfect and he couldn't imagine it any other way. His peace was equivalent to numbness. Unfeeling. No drama, no restrictions. No emotions to drag him down. He wouldn't wish that on a child, not when it still had the time to learn before it could realize it felt.

Could he ever be a father?

Impossible, he concluded.

Every day was the same routine and this… woman, presenting a deal he had no choice but to take, was a threat to everything he understood was happiness. But her presence brought a strange sort of sensation, tugging and tearing at his chest. It intensified with every smile.

It wasn't uncomfortable, really. It was new. But was it was unnecessary.

With luck, he'd get rid of them all within the week.

Orihime could only assume that Ulquiorra strayed from the right path at some point long ago. Had he never experienced true happiness? Maybe the baby could still have a future here with his father. Imagining him being passed around from person to person like a borrowed item, never making it to a true home, made her feel guilty beyond a doubt.

However, if Ulquiorra had decided to retain custody over the baby, he wouldn't exactly be the greatest influence in his current state.

The young woman had already decided.

She was going to teach this man how to love.

"Cifer-san, we really need to go shopping," the young woman pestered, peeking from the kitchen doorway to round on Ulquiorra as he scavenged through his refrigerator for dinner.

"Woman, do you know what time it is? Don't be a nuisance." He didn't bother lifting his head to look at her. She tapped her foot impatiently, crossing her arms underneath her well-endowed chest.

"We need to feed Grimmjow!" she whined. "I had some leftover formula at the daycare from a mom who forgot it there, but it's not much and it's expensive so I'd rather keep it there for emergencies. Also, we need…," she began listing things out, but Ulquiorra had already mentally blocked out the noise.

"I don't care," he interrupted after she continued to talk for another minute. He was peering at a weird furry formation manifesting at the back corner of the appliance. He supposed he should throw out those two month-old eggs too.

He began to reach for them when suddenly, Ulquiorra heard feet stomp against the hard pavement of the kitchen floor, and a hand reached over to grab his wrist. He froze.

"Don't eat those! You might get sick!"

Slowly, his hard emerald eyes latched onto her bronze ones. The genuine wide apprehension and fear in them made him sigh in exasperation.

"You think I wouldn't care to eat spoiled food, and yet you'd still trust me to help take care of a child? I was just about to throw them out, woman." He removed them from the fridge and proceeded to dump them in the trash.

Orihime flushed. "O-oh!" she exclaimed. Upon realizing she had overreacted and was still holding onto him, she stepped back, her cheeks tinged with color.

"Well, I don't think there's anything in there that's edible for us, and Grimmjow can't eat solids yet, so…" But before she could give further reason, her stomach spoke for her. Loudly.

Ulquiorra closed his eyes and sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. It was a futile effort on his part anyway. He turned on his heel and walked past the doorway out of her sight, leaving Orihime alone and hungry in his wake. She wilted in disappointment. Nothing made her sadder than having to sleep on an empty stomach.

A feeling of regret began to blanket her mood and threatened to overcome her façade of optimism. Her previous display of confidence was wavering in the face of her new, stone-faced and ice cold landlord. Was he really going to force her to wander outside for a morsel of food? Alone with a baby and in the dark?

Suddenly, an image of Grimmjow's gurgling and joyful face emerged from her dark thoughts.

She would do it for him. She was already certain of it.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she stood straight with poise and fortitude. She believed that she could prevail. Surely Ulquiorra Cifer will open up eventually…

"Are you coming or not?"

Orihime snapped her head towards the direction of the voice, seeing Ulquiorra leaning against the doorway, wallet and house keys in his hand.

She smiled.

"My name is Orihime!"

"Since you failed to inform me of your last name, I will call you as I see fit, and I do not deem you worthy enough to be called by your first name."

"Technically, you were told my full name. You just forgot," she grumbled.

Ugh. Orihime was just about done with this man. She pushed her shopping cart gently, careful to not disturb its newborn passenger. Grimmjow lay quietly in his car seat, fiddling absently with a cat toy his anonymous abandoner left with him. It was after-dinner hours, but the market was open late to accommodate workers who had just gotten off their shifts.

"I-I don't think you deserve to be called Cifer-san either!" She decided, long auburn hair bristling behind her as she turned to face him. "I'm going to call you… You… Ulquiorra! Ha!" she placed her hands on her hips with an air of victory, her smile stretching from ear to ear.

Ulquiorra just scoffed at her. He could care less what she called him and her decision was hardly an insult.

"Here." She chucked a box of cereal at him, but to her disappointment, he caught it with smooth grace and placed it into his shopping cart. Orihime had him pushing his own basket since she had to use hers as a stroller.

He looked at the cereal and frowned, "I thought you said it could not eat solids."

"Of course not! He's like 3 months old," she huffed, her face contorting in concentration as she compared the prices of two soup brands, "It's for me."

Ulquiorra's lips curved into a deep frown. He knew it came with having a roommate, but he still didn't like the idea of another person's things taking up space in his kitchen. For someone who lived alone for most of his life and entirely on routine, change was uncomfortable. "Can you cook?"

"Mm... sort of? I can throw something together here and there..." She brushed past him, "Oh! We really should buy a stroller, but they can be quite expensive. We will also have to stop by a department store another day to buy baby monitors and a crib, oh, but maybe I can order those online–" Ulquiorra tuned her out.

They continued to painstakingly walk through every aisle. He noted the stack of groceries piling up in her own cart wherever they could fit around Grimmjow, and how the woman had taken the luxury to fill his up to the brim as well. From red bean paste to spicy mustard, to shampoo, laundry detergent, and heavy flow winged pads, Ulquiorra's complaints had been cut short with the excuse that she 'can't live without them'. He stared at the pads. He supposed she was correct.

Turning into the baby aisle, Ulquiorra felt dread pass through him. It was an aisle he managed to avoid all his life and yet here he was with a strange woman beside him and an infant nonetheless. His nose wrinkled in displeasure as the scent of baby powder and other irritants pricked at his nostrils. They spent a good amount of time retrieving the essentials—diapers, bottles, and wipes. They bought a stroller at ¥50,000. This grocery store carried everything apparently.

Orihime continued to roam into the paper products aisle, a scowling Ulquiorra trudging behind her with a heavy cart and a hand in his pocket.

"You don't have this brand of toilet paper?" she asked, incredulous, but received no response from the dark-haired man who continued to stare at her in barely perceptible vexation that hinted at her audacity. She pointed to the packaging, "Super soft?"

"Hurry up," he glowered.

"No wonder you're such a poopy butt…," she muttered, tucking a pack underneath her arm and then resuming to stack more useless items beyond the capacity of the cart.

To the side, a group of old women could be heard whispering in the same aisle, their wrinkly eyes shifting between them. Ulquiorra fixed a hard stare on them, but they paid no attention to his quiet hostility. Gossiping old women could only mean some sort of harassment was impending. As if on cue, one of them turned to Ulquiorra and Orihime, her sagging eyes bright with wonder.

"Our faith in humanity is restored," she prattled. "A beautiful couple with such a handsome baby." Ulquiorra and Orihime stared in bewilderment. Is this woman senile?

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I don't mean to confuse you. I was just talking with my friend about how lovely you two look together. You are so young and happy-looking, it reminds me of my earlier days…," her voice trailed off as she peered into the shopping basket and cooed at Grimmjow, "You have an adorable child. Such an odd choice of color for their hair, but I suppose that's the new thing with you youngsters nowadays, huh."

She turned to Orihime. "Your husband is awfully handsome. Such nice hair and beautiful green eyes. You are very lucky, young lady."

"Oh! Oh, um…" Orihime stared down at her feet, color blooming on her cheeks. "We…"

"Anyways," the woman continued, "I suppose you two have better things to do tonight than entertain your elders." She winked suggestively at Orihime. The chestnut-haired girl shrunk in embarrassment. "I pray you two will have a good future together."

Orihime bowed deeply, thanking them and waving her hand as they departed, but Ulquiorra didn't bother moving.

"That was awkward," Orihime mumbled sheepishly, filling the silence. She looked up at Ulquiorra, wondering if he were showing signs of discomfort just as she was, but of course his expression, or lack thereof, remained difficult to read.

To Ulquiorra's dismay, the total came out to be more than he bargained for. Though he did state that money was not a problem for him, he wasn't the type to be spending it on what he considered to be non-necessities. Orihime skipped happily outside, multitudes of grocery bags hanging from her hands as Ulquiorra hauled the stroller and several more. Fortunately the walk back to the house was short.

Her smile was blinding against the darkness of the night. Dim lamp posts illuminated golden strands of her hair swaying gently in the autumn breeze, highlighting the red-brown that cascaded down her back in layers.

"Say, what do you do for a living anyway, Ulquiorra? You don't seem to like cheap, processed foods and you didn't even blink at the total." She shook the bag with the cereal box in it for emphasis. "Are you actually rich?"

Ulquiorra narrowed his gaze at her, shifting the shopping bags hanging from his arm into a better position. He could snap her in two if he wished.

The girl was pushy and blabbered about nonsensical things. She spent his money on whatever she wanted and guilt-tripped him into keeping this baby. A baby that wasn't even his. And yet, here he was, paying for the woman's groceries and housing her. Now she even had the nerve to ask about his economic status.

Just what was it about her that made him subservient to her?

This certainly will not do, he mused angrily to himself.

He began running scenarios in his head again. Perhaps he could scare her away by driving her mad, but then she might leave the child behind. Could he try giving him away again? Possibly. But it seemed like a poor choice if the woman ever decided to come back to check on him. And there was no guarantee that the next victim would be so kind as to not have authorities involved. Communicating with any police at the peak of his youth was very unappealing to Ulquiorra.

It is all so… complicated.

Orihime faced forward and shrugged, arriving at the conclusion that Ulquiorra had no intention of answering her. Honestly, she had no idea how she would go through with this plan. Whatever the plan was. She initially intended to escape from the reality of her sudden breakup and distract herself while licking her wounds. Ulquiorra had a house and money and she felt comfortable enough with him. He had a baby that she adored. Nothing about him gave her the impression that he would ever harm her.

Sure the guy could be an ass but he was redeemable.

She was sure of it.

Well. Maybe she should update Tatsuki just in case.

"Hime-chan, you've really taken the cake this time," Tatsuki groaned on the other end of the line.

Orihime chuckled, her phone pinned between her ear and her shoulder as she held Grimmjow over the other shoulder to burp him, "There's no cake here, silly. Ulquiorra wouldn't let me get any. He said there wouldn't be any space in the fridge."

"Hime-chan, that's not– You know what, never mind," Tatsuki sighed deeply. "Look, you're a damn strong girl and you're smart even when I question it sometimes. I trust you with all my heart that you can make the right decisions, but it's really hard for me to be supportive when we both don't know the guy. I know it's no different from having a roommate, but this is Ulquiorra Cifer we're talking about. The Ulquiorra Cifer. The one in the magazines? The billboards? The damn news?"

"Oh Tatsuki-chan, you know I don't pay attention to that stuff," she responded, unconcerned.

"There's no way this is going to turn out well. I'm worried for you," Tatsuki argued.

Grimmjow gave a loud belch into the speaker.

"And you're raising a baby with him," she added, exasperation in her tone as she slumped onto something soft. "This is nuts. You're addicted to fixing broken men and you're too forgiving."

"Eh… When you put it that way…," Orihime suddenly felt a little embarrassed. "Well, I think it'll be okay. I promise to run from any sign of danger or anything that makes me uncomfortable. Besides, I don't really think he sees me like other women. He's actually kinda mean to me."

Tatsuki decided to refrain from reminding her of the stereotype that boys tend to bully their crushes.

"Alright, Orihime. I've got to go. Please, please keep me updated with everything, okay? I swear if he so much as puts his hands on you, I'm going to–"

"Yes, yes, thank you Tatsuki-chan. I'll text you. Bye!" Orihime ended the call.

"How absurd. There is nothing money cannot buy," Ulquiorra sneered.

They were in the midst of a debate, seated across from each other at the kitchen table and attempting to eat whatever meal Orihime had concocted. Grimmjow babbled quietly in Orihime's lap, baring his gums at Yammy below him. The Pomeranian peered up at him with large, glass eyes, hoping some droplets of formula would dribble down from his mouth and onto the floor where he could lap it up.

"You can't buy a home." Orihime wagged her finger in his face. Ulquiorra parted his lips to retort, but Orihime interrupted him by placing that finger on his lips, "Like a home home. Ugh! Never mind. This is too hard to explain." She sat back with a huff, crossing her arms under her chest. Ulquiorra's lips tingled involuntarily in the aftermath of her touch, much to his irritation.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek while she gave it some more thought as to how to explain before reflexively slapping the table, "You can't buy the love!"

"Sure you can. I bought Yammy and he loves me as much as I provide for him." he paused before saying, "And I don't have to spend any money to do any lovemaking."

"No, no! That's different!" Orihime's face grew hot at the casual mention of sex, "That's not love. That's–," It frustrated her to say it, so she didn't. Ulquiorra waited.

"Fucking?" He supplied.

She gasped, covering Grimmjow's ears.

"You can't buy a heart, Ulquiorra," she clarified sternly.

He shifted back in his seat, uncomfortable under her hardened gaze. She looked at him as if she saw something that he could not see himself.

He absolutely dreaded this topic. He had discussed it with plenty of female partners and, to this day, he had never found the sentiment to care about their perspective.

"I don't understand," and he didn't.

Obviously she meant the symbolic heart and not a real, beating one because you could buy that one too, but to Ulquiorra, that intangibility was meaningless. Falling in love was meaningless. Time was money. Time was well spent on physical sensation and things you could hold in your hand. It would be a waste of time to nurture and protect something as conceptual and subjective as love.

"Why would one go as far as to make themselves vulnerable for another only for it to so frequently result in emotional distress? Why would one voluntarily hurt themselves when they can have everything else in the world and just be content? It is the heart that gives you pain. It will only lead you to disappointment. Those who know despair, once knew hope. Those who know loss, once knew love. You cannot have one without the other, so it's best to avoid them entirely."

Orihime stared at him before she lowered her head and closed her eyes, shaking her head in disagreement. It wasn't that she didn't understand him. She was going through heartbreak herself, but she never believed love was pointless.

"Whether you like it or not, a heart is born when you care for someone," she said softly.

"You speak as if it's your heart that you carry in the palm of your hands."

Her lips formed a tight line in calm frustration, deciding to not respond.

She opened her eyes and nudged the bottle of formula towards Grimmjow's lips, " Ahh…," she cooed, coaxing him to allow the nipple of the bottle into his mouth. He obliged obediently and began feeding, his sky blue eyes glaring at the Pomeranian at his feet. Ulquiorra watched her movements with vacant eyes, still stewing over her preposterous concept of the heart.

He couldn't help himself but be drawn to this strange woman, no matter how much she made herself a nuisance. Her words about the heart echoed dully against the thick fortress walls of his mind. He had this conversation numerous times, but Orihime was different from the women he had been with. She was pure and strong, wanting to educate and be educated on the people she chose to stay around. Nothing like the trash he so often dealt with. She held her heart in her hand, readily offering it to anyone and everyone who needed it, and in her eyes there were emotions he was incapable of perceiving.

He wondered for a moment if the love she spoke of was different from what he previously understood. He could see something akin to what she was trying to communicate from the way she cared for Grimmjow.

He circled back to his comment about Yammy–how the dog grew to love through what Ulquiorra could provide–and remembered the thing he so resented about her. Large dog breeds with wholehearted, scatterbrained personalities.

The heart, huh.

Ulquiorra reached over the table, fingers outstretched towards her chest, "If I tear into that chest of yours, will I see it there?" If I smash open that silly skull of yours, will I see it there?

Orihime's eyes grew wide in shock, completely missing the context of his thoughts.

"W-what! Goodness, no!" She slapped his hand away in mortification before she realized what she did and covered her own face, her cheeks on fire. He's so bold! There's nothing getting through this stubborn pervert! Flustered, she quickly stood up, pushing her chair back and stomping off to her room with Grimmjow. Ulquiorra stared after her, unfazed.

Orihime was unaware that she misunderstood him.