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CHAPTER 25

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The room around Ulquiorra was black as night, drowning out everything the darkness touched. Light from his closet was the only thing that filtered through, painting the floor but leaving the walls untouched.

It was late and despite being tired he knew better than to try and get any rest. After all the violence and drama that had played out in the arena earlier, he had a feeling that one or both of Aizen's prisoners would set their minds to doing something irrational. If there was one thing being around the woman had taught him, it was that the more emotional stress humans endured, the more unpredictable and rash their decisions became.

Sitting at the edge of his bed, Ulquiorra closed his eyes and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees. With a slow exhale, he opened his mind and tried to focus on the boy's energy. His surroundings melted away and were soon replaced by the familiar blips and pulses of power that indicated every creature's exact location within his pesquisa's range – be they living or dead. Already knowing where to look, he narrowed in on his target with ease. At the moment the boy's signature was barely a speck against his pesquisa, nothing even remotely comparable to the explosive barrage it had been mere hours ago. The reiatsu itself had been blistering, searing the edges of his senses like the sun. Now, however, it didn't even compare.

Ichigo Kurosaki had reacted just as Ulquiorra expected. All one had to do was push the boy to his limits and force his hand; an expedient method to get him to show his true colors, so to speak. All it took was a little extra shove, the right motivation. Both Orihime Inoue and Ichigo Kurosaki were blindly driven by compassion for their comrades. Once Ulquiorra prodded at that Achilles' heel, the boy caved in a manner that was as astonishing as it was pathetic. It was both ironic and fitting that his trigger proved to be his greatest strength and, similarly, his worst weakness.

After his extraordinary display, any doubts Ulquiorra once held were finally put to rest. The boy was special. His energy reserves were immense and the rate at which he was learning to tap into that strength was staggering. Apparently, Ichigo Kurosaki could undergo months of training in an attempt to control all that reiatsu, and fail in every facet of that training. Yet, the moment he was tossed into a quagmire of fear, angst and the heavy burden of facing the life and death of one of his comrades, he effortlessly glided right into the role of one of the biggest threats to Aizen's reign.

It was…impressive.

Ulquiorra had watched from the shadows of the arena as the Shinigami boy ripped the collar from his neck and proceeded to exude an aura of power that was one of the most dangerous he'd ever felt in his time as a Hollow. He'd torn the reiatsu-suppressing collar off like it was nothing more than a piece of string. Ulquiorra doubted even Grimmjow could succeed at such a task…more so, Ulquiorra himself doubted he could escape the clutches of such a device – at least not without wasting some serious reiatsu reserves. For Kurosaki to expel more reiatsu than the collar was capable of containing only spoke to the danger he posed. He was strong; a fact Ulquiorra had always suspected, yet had never been able to truly confirm.

It didn't particularly surprise Ulquiorra when the boy turned and flat out charged Aizen. Although brave, it was far too brazen. The move utterly reeked of Kurosaki. With the injuries the boy had sustained, he should have recognized the futility of his efforts. Even if the woman had not stopped him, Aizen had been surrounded by nearly half of his Espada at the time. He would have been beheaded before he could lay a finger on their master.

To an extent, it was understandable why Aizen was so interested in him. He was an anomaly, much like the woman. But he was still far too dangerous. While Ulquiorra had his suspicions as to why his master was so intent on keeping the boy alive, even he was not entirely privy to the reasons. Aizen's plans for Ichigo Kurosaki were still too vague for him to grasp.

Ulquiorra, on the other hand, knew exactly what he wanted to do with the boy.

He could now see that Ichigo Kurosaki had the potential to be even greater than Aizen Sosuke.

To truly crush that boy – in mind, body and spirit – into the very essence of nothingness…

Ulquiorra had never derived any particular amount of enjoyment from demolishing his enemies like others such as Grimmjow, Nnoitra and even Yammy did. There was no deep need inside him looking to be sated with destruction, nor was there a drive for fulfillment through bloodshed that motivated him in the same manner as it did with his fellow Espada. However, the thought of demonstrating the true pointlessness in his and the woman's belief in things such as the heart was an oddly satisfying prospect. That boy was her ultimate manifestation of the heart, the very core of it. If one as powerful as Kurosaki – who seemed to radiate just as much charisma for friendship and bonds as the woman – could be brought down, then surely it would prove the futility of the heart. It would be so easy to use her to crush the boy, and then use the boy to crush her. Two separate persons, each equally strong in their own right, could be so effortlessly lowered to nothing simply due to this 'heart'…and yet each refused to see the folly of believing in such useless things.

All those years ago when Aizen had found him in the desert, he'd been promised something; something he didn't even know he wanted. Ulquiorra had no desire to follow any master. He was not made to serve and he was not made to lead. He cared not to search for this elusive marvel that Aizen spoke of. Neither did he care for the power that Aizen had tempted so many other Hollows with. Ulquiorra had agreed because Aizen had assured him that it was something he needed, something that he had been searching for and simply hadn't known it.

Had he been searching? Ulquiorra didn't know. At the time, he had zero interest in wars or fighting or evolving or even 'completing himself', as Aizen had so eloquently put it. He existed for the simple purpose of existing. There was no rhyme or reason to it, no deeper mystery to unravel. Life was life, and death was death. He survived in emptiness, nothing more and nothing less. While he may not have been built for servitude, his callous and unfeeling nature nevertheless made for an excellent soldier.

Now under his master's service, Ulquiorra had somehow crossed paths with Ichigo Kurosaki; the first being to pique his curiosity in uncountable years. Even the woman had not drawn him in the way the boy had when he'd first set his sights on him. He now wondered if Aizen had been right. Perhaps he had been searching for something…something Aizen had yet to deliver. Something these humans, on the other hand, were supplying in full.

Ulquiorra debated the prospects of taking the matter of Ichigo Kurosaki into this own hands. He wanted the boy. He wanted to see just how powerful he could become, to see what kind of fighter he truly was when he wasn't holding back. As he was now, though, he was useless. He just needed a little more pushing, and the things Ulquiorra could do to the woman to get him there were nigh endless.

If he was as worthy a prize as Aizen made him out to be, then Ulquiorra would die by his hands and Aizen could have the boy. Kurosaki would go on to either kill or be killed by the tyrant.

If not…Ulquiorra would end the boy himself.

Ulquiorra half suspected that was Aizen's reasoning behind all of this, regardless. It was undoubtedly why Aizen hadn't killed Kurosaki yet, why he had let Ulquiorra bring him back to the palace, and why he hadn't even once bothered to show the boy his Shikai – which was at once incredibly arrogant, but also an incredibly obvious giveaway that he truly did have much more in store for Ichigo Kurosaki than what he was telling his Espada. For now, he was going to let Ulquiorra do as he pleased with him. Perhaps he knew the Cuatro could break him down and shape him into something far better and deadlier than what he already was. And what Ichigo Kurosaki currently was, was a human child too wrapped up in his own pride and ethics to ever grow into a proper fighter. He was too afraid of his own inner Hollow to reach his full potential, causing him to hesitate in tapping into those endless rivers of reiatsu swirling around inside him…and indeed, he had something festering inside him waiting to be awakened.

Whatever that something was, it was clear the boy's friends had yet to truly realize the magnitude of strength that dwelled within him. Even the woman seemed completely ignorant. Had she known, he had no doubt she wouldn't have adored the boy half as much as she did. Their tightly knit group of comrades had chosen to put the blinders on where Ichigo Kurosaki was concerned. They couldn't see the nature of the beast that lurked just under the surface. The woman was particularly bad where this issue was concerned, although Ulquiorra was unsure just how far her knowledge on the matter extended. Whether or not she knew there was a Hollow residing in the man she loved, Ulquiorra couldn't say, but he doubted she would react well to it.

It begged the question, just how much had she purposefully overlooked?

There was no doubt that she had already swept a lot of facts about Ulquiorra under the rug. She would've had to in order to get over the fact that she was sleeping with a Hollow, no matter how much he looked like a man. She truly was naïve if she honestly believed in the good in people, regardless of who they were or what they had done. If she was so willing to ignore the darkness in an enemy such as himself, the faults she had overlooked in Kurosaki must have been just as extreme.

In spite of her reasons, there was still a small kernel of curiosity inside Ulquiorra that had to wonder what she saw in him. A Hollow had nothing to offer a human woman. There was nothing there to give, and likewise, nothing inside him for her to find. That night, he'd tried to explain that to her, yet despite her distress, she'd kissed him.

Her actions spoke to the reality that she believed she'd formed a bond with him just as strong as the bond she shared with her friends. In truth, he had done nothing to warrant such a bond; her attraction to him was built on nothing more than his lies and efforts to lure her in.

While Ichigo Kurosaki had a dark side that she had steadfastly ignored for the sake of her heart, her grounds for trying to see the positive side of Ulquiorra were less clear. Even when he had lied to soften her up and assuage the reality of his character, it still should have been obvious that he was never as benign as he appeared. But she never caught on…and because of that, he began to question just how much she would hate him once she discovered how completely he had used her.

He was unsure if he even cared, but the thought was still there. It had been lurking in the back of his mind since her kiss…perhaps even before.

Tired and heavy-lidded, his eyes slid open and cast a sidelong glance at the empty pillow on her side of the bed.

"What do I mean to you?"

He wasn't keen on admitting just how frequently her question had returned to him throughout the night. No matter how one looked at it, he'd avoided answering it. He hadn't expected her to ever have the nerve to ask him in the first place. It meant she was getting far more serious about whatever feelings she thought she had for him.

Ulquiorra looked away from her pillow and let his eyes slide back closed. She wanted to know what she meant to him? She was a prisoner of his master, an instrument that Ulquiorra intended to use to break the man she loved. How could he consider her as anything more? He had no need to. Why would she even want him to?

He entertained the idea of ending their sham of a relationship, but he was far too interested in her for that. He had no real taste for avoiding his own thoughts on the matter just because she was a puzzle he was having difficulty solving. If anything, it only made him more intrigued by her. There was no point in running from things he couldn't understand. His pride was not that inflamed. Although it was rare he ever crossed such anomalies, it only presented all the more reason to break her down and pick her apart piece by agonizing piece until he could reach inside her and wrap his fingers around this thing that supposedly existed.

If it was there, then he should see it.

Why could she – a mere human – so easily see and understand these things, while he failed in every – single – way.

When she had kissed him, she had been trying to stir something inside him that wasn't there. With no heart to flutter and skip in the way hers did when he touched her, all he was left with was that same empty vagueness that filled his every waking moment. He was a being that lived and breathed in a void. He was the blackest parts of death encased in a physical vessel. Yet when she kissed him, when she had once told him that she would give him her heart, and when she reached out to him with her reiatsu that was so weak and warm and soft, it somehow managed to push him away and pull him even further in at the same time. He wasn't meant to feel the things she felt. There wasn't an ounce of flesh in him designed for her humanity. Just the fact that she still failed to see this spoke to her naivety and stubbornness.

Even though he still needed her complacency in order to use her against Kurosaki, he had still taken the time to spell it out for her, despite knowing that it could and probably would chase her away. He'd told her he would never feel love or compassion, and thus by extension, he would never feel it for her.

She had kissed him anyways.

When she did, he'd felt that little trickle of her reiatsu touching the boundaries of his own. He'd practically been able to taste the emotion she poured into it. His body reacted against his will, the same way it had in the infirmary so long ago. He could feel the way his muscles tensed and trembled as foreign and altogether unwelcome sensations laid waste to his control. His body detested the alien response, scarcely able to house the types of reactions she incited. When faced with anything but numbness, his entire being failed to properly process those feelings, and instead rejected everything he was never made to feel. That piece of him, the piece she so diligently referred to as the heart, was missing. Without it, it was like pouring water into a cracked glass…it simply wouldn't hold.

But she tried, and tried…and tried. She kissed him regardless of his cruelty, her heart and reiatsu still fluttered at his touch, and she still reached out to him no matter his harsh bluntness.

Just what had she been trying to prove? She had already made it abundantly clear that her belief in the heart was beyond unshakable. Although he had made it a point to dismiss her sentiments, she had a way of invading his thoughts recently. She also had a way of inciting a wearisome amount of lust in him, particularly more so now that she had taken it upon herself to cut him off. Just the sight of her lips, or the thought of her flesh in his hands, even the smell of her hair was enough to cause him to harden. However, getting her alone was becoming too bothersome to waste his time on. In any case, he wasn't arrogant enough to bother trying, not with the way things currently stood between himself and her, and certainly not after he'd brought her beloved Kurosaki in as a prisoner. He'd committed an unforgivable sin in her eyes and she seemed too caught up in limbo deciding whether or not she hated him for it to even consider sleeping with him again.

Ulquiorra let out a slow exhale, half annoyed, yet half fascinated that a woman could ever plague his mind so thoroughly.

A good portion of the night was already gone, and with morning coming soon, Ulquiorra stood up from the bed and grabbed his jacket. Sliding it onto his shoulders, he headed for the door. There was no point in squandering the rest of the night reflecting on matters that held little credence in the scheme of things. In the end, it mattered not what she meant to him, nor what he meant to her. She belonged to Aizen. Even if she survived the war, she would only be kept as a display of his power; a trinket to entertain his master…and even Ulquiorra knew how Aizen detested others playing with his toys.

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"Inoue." Ichigo reached down and touched his sleeping cellmate's arm. "Inoue? Hey, wake up," he repeated a little more firmly when she didn't stir. With a gentle shake of her shoulder, Ichigo noticed her eyelids finally start to flutter open.

Last night, Orihime had gone straight to bed after she'd come out of her long, self-imposed isolation in the bathroom. Unable to stop himself from worrying, Ichigo had made sure to stay up and watch over her. During that time, he couldn't help but contemplate the gravity of their situation. It was imperative to get her out of Las Noches. Aizen's manipulative games and the very real danger the Espada presented were evident now more than ever.

After spending several tense hours wrestling with himself over what to do, he'd eventually staggered up off the couch and limped over to her bed to wake her up. He knew exactly what had to be done. They couldn't afford to put it off a single day longer. If he and Orihime continued down the path they were following, he had a feeling the conclusion to their imprisonment would never turn out in their favor. He couldn't allow Aizen to determine the outcome of their future. Neither could they remain the helpless pawns in his game.

At his gentle but insistent prodding, Orihime slowly began to sit up in bed. "Kurosaki-kun?" She yawned tiredly as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. He couldn't help but frown when he noticed the chocolate orbs were still red and swollen; a sure sign that the girl had been doing some heavy crying during her time locked in the bathroom. "What are you doing up so late?" she questioned. "You need to rest. Your injuries-"

"Never mind that now," he whispered urgently, ignoring her question. "You need to get up."

Alarmed by the tension in his voice, Orihime quickly shed the last layers of sleep lingering in her mind. "What? Why? Is something the matter?"

"Shh." Ichigo held a finger to his lips, trying to quiet her back down. His brown eyes glared at her through the darkness of their room, giving her pause. Orihime's brow crinkled at his behavior, not understanding his desire to be so discreet. The hush in his voice was adamant and the shadows surrounding her bed did little to hide his handsome features, which were currently pinched into a look of intense determination. They were the features of a man planning to do something that promised trouble – be it good or bad.

"Kurosaki-kun, what's going on?" She watched as his eyes briefly flitted back to the door as if he were fearful her raised voice would somehow garner unwanted attention. "Is there someone outside the door?" She quirked her head to the side to cast the door a curious glance, but she only became more confused when she didn't sense anything amiss.

"No...but," he paused, as if he were trying to find the right words to say to her. "Listen Inoue, we need to leave this place. Tonight."

Orihime's eyes widened slightly. "Leave?" She wanted Ichigo to have his freedom just as much as she wanted her own, but certainly he realized there was no way to achieve this. "Kurosaki-kun, you're not making any sense."

"Don't you want to get out of this place?"

"Of course I do, but-" Orihime stopped mid-sentence when it suddenly dawned on her what he was implying. He wanted to escape, break out of their prison and make a run for it.

"I can get you out of here, Inoue. We can sneak off and make it back to our friends, I'm sure of it." A part of her couldn't believe what she was hearing, but another part of her was quickly filled with a sense of guilt. During the entire duration of her imprisonment, never once had she tried, let alone pondered, the thought of escaping. She had always expected them to come to her, never bothering to consider that she could have also tried to reach them. "I won't let anything happen to you…but if we stay here, I don't know for how much longer I can keep that promise." Ichigo's last words trailed off in a haze of concern and self-doubt.

She knew he was only trying to protect her, but…

"We can't leave, Kurosaki-sun," she began solemnly. "Lord Aizen would never allow it. Ulquiorra always knows when I leave the tower. If we both leave at the same time, he'll try to stop you and I don't know what he'd do to you if we got caught." She couldn't risk it, not when his life was at stake. "Please reconsider. You're already so wounded you can barely stand. Even if we could make it past Ulquiorra, the storm outside is so bad. There's no way we could navigate it." That storm circled the castle in rising and falling increments, seeming more like an unforgiving and tempestuous entity than any simple weather anomaly. She'd seen firsthand just how bad that storm could get at times. "What if-"

Ichigo cut her off as he bent down and gently grasped her shoulders. Orihime stiffened at the warmth in his hands, realizing for the first time in months that he was the first piece of warmth she'd felt. She swallowed thickly as she looked up into his eyes and was surprised to see how much they had softened.

"Do you trust me, Inoue?" he began quietly.

Orihime froze as her breath momentarily left her.

After what she'd just put him through in the arena, he still wanted her trust? Did he still believe in her like she believed in him? The thought eased some of the burden from her troubled heart. She stared deep into his eyes, searching for the anger that had been there earlier in the night. When she found none, relief swept through her.

For the first time in her life, she finally had the confidence to keep such an intense amount of eye contact with the young man. Looking so deeply into those hard, brooding eyes, she didn't see a prince or a knight or a hero. For once, she saw all the sacrifices he'd made for her and her friends. It was enough to fill the oceans.

She felt her eyes sting softly as she tried to offer him a kind smile. "Of course I do. With my life."

His palm slid off her shoulder as he offered her his hand. "Then let me help you."

Orihime's fingers were centimeters from his when she suddenly hesitated.

If she left with Ichigo now…she would never see Ulquiorra again. She would be leaving him behind. Could she really do that? Could she live without seeing him for the rest of her life? Doubts filled her mind as her fingers remained unmoved, suspended just above Ichigo's.

What would happen to Ulquiorra if they left? Would Aizen punish him for allowing his prisoners to escape? Orihime wasn't certain her heart could bear the thought.

When she still failed to take his hand, Ichigo's brow furrowed in confusion, silently questioning her hesitation.

"I…"

I can't.

It was right on the tip of her tongue; I can't leave here with you, I can't run away, I can't help you find our friends, I can't leave Ulquiorra.

She wanted to say it, but she had already betrayed him once that day. She couldn't stand to do it again, not when she was looking up at him and could read every emotion flickering across his face. She could see it in his eyes; the need for freedom, the need to protect her, and the need to see if their friends were still alive, far out there in the Hueco Mundo desert. She couldn't deny him that.

She wanted Ulquiorra, but her friends needed her. There were portions of her heart that had to wonder if she and Ulquiorra would ever work out, anyways. She had tried with him. She'd tried kindness, tolerance, love; so much more than she'd ever given any other man. How could she continue with his cruelty? How could she stay when he had imprisoned Ichigo in this cage with her?

She already knew the answer. It just pained her too much to acknowledge it.

Instead, she ignored the ache in her chest and placed her small hand in Ichigo's warm, calloused palm.

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It was only through the good graces of luck that the others hadn't chained Ichigo back to the wall when he had been returned to her cell earlier that night. After his trip to the infirmary, they had likely viewed him as being far too injured to even be capable of causing a disturbance. In a way, they had been right. Orihime watched with a twinge of empathy as he limped his way down the hall in front of her. He certainly was of no danger to anyone in his current state. However, his will and determination never could seem to bend in the face of adversity. And, like a virus, he'd infected her with his resolve. The residents of Las Noches had overlooked this aspect of his personality; effectively leaving him unchained and free to roam as he pleased.

Orihime swallowed, knowing that their freedom was sure to be short-lived. With both of them leaving her cell so late at night, she knew it was only a matter of time before Ulquiorra came for them. He may have been lenient with her roaming at times, but he would never be so gracious with her male companion.

When Ichigo paused at a fork in the hallway, Orihime could feel her nerves become jittery and tense. He didn't have a clue where he was going. Orihime did. The only problem was her inability to take the reins and be assertive enough to suggest that she lead the way. The fact that Ulquiorra hadn't shown up the moment they stepped out her door proved that he was likely too far away to intervene immediately, confirming her fear that they only had a small window of opportunity before he arrived.

"Um, Kurosaki-kun-"

"Damn it," he cursed, essentially cutting her off before she could get the words out. He looked down one passage then the next, silently pondering his choices. "How are we supposed to get out of this place? It's like a maze."

Orihime wondered if he realized they weren't even out of the fourth tower yet. They had quite a way to go if they wanted to even think about escaping.

"Kurosaki-kun, why don't we-"

Ichigo suddenly gasped as a random pain shot through his leg, causing him to reach down and clutch at his knee as if that would stop the ache. With a swell of worry in her chest, Orihime rushed to his side. "Kurosaki-kun, perhaps you should let me help you," she began softly, trying to approach the situation as delicately as possible in an attempt not to wound his already broken pride. "We can move faster if we work together." Orihime smiled reassuringly as she gently lifted his arm and slipped it over her shoulders. She didn't notice the way he blushed as his hand slid over her skin, or the way his fingers dangled inches from her breast, covered only in her paper thin night attire.

"I really don't need any help," he muttered as he looked away, to which she only smiled more.

"We need to go left, Kurosaki-kun," Orihime said, easily dodging his efforts to refuse her assistance.

Ichigo turned to look down the hall. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes, I know this tower quite well," she replied with a nod. "Ulquiorra used to tell me never to leave my room, but I would always sneak out to explore anyways." Ichigo didn't miss the wistful hint of mischievousness in her smile as she spoke. Trying not to dwell on this, Ichigo merely nodded his agreement. He didn't like to think on the fact that she'd been trapped here so long that she'd actually come to know certain areas of Las Noches like the back of her hand. It didn't sit well with him. Instead, he hobbled along beside her as she guided them with swift ease through the winding corridors of the tower.

"We can't head back into the dome of Las Noches," she spoke as they walked. "It will only lead deeper into the palace."

"Do we have to worry about any of the other Espada stopping us?"

Orihime shook her head, her eyes set on the path ahead of them. "No. Most of their towers rest on the outskirts of the palace, outside the dome, and usually there's quite a gap between each of their territories."

"I guess that makes sense. This place seems pretty empty…" Ichigo mused aloud, his gaze drifting up to the high ceilings and cold, barren atmosphere.

Orihime laughed softly. "That's because most of the time the fourth tower is empty."

"And what about Ulquiorra? Why hasn't he stopped us yet?" His brow furrowed slightly, feeling the way she stiffened at the mention of his name. "He practically appeared out of nowhere when I tried to leave the room this morning."

"Ulquiorra spends most of his time staying busy elsewhere. He hardly spends time in his own tower. He's probably too far away to reach us, but…"

"But he could show up at any second," he finished for her.

Orihime nodded again. "Yes, even if he's far away, he'll know that we're up to something. That's why we need to hurry." Unconsciously, she began to pick up their pace. Pulling him closer, she tried to take more of his weight onto her shoulders to ease his journey.

"Are you afraid of him?"

Looking up at him, Orihime blinked as if he'd just asked the strangest question in the world. "Of course not," she said as if it was the most natural thing. Turning her attention back to their path, she continued on. "Sure, he was pretty scary when I first came to Hueco Mundo, but I eventually learned that he's not such a bad person…not deep down. It was the same for most of the Espada that I've met. They're people, just like us. Ulquiorra is just…he's just…"

"Do you trust him?"

At this, she really did stiffen against him. Had they not been in such a hurry, Orihime would have squirmed uncomfortably at his prying questions. "W-why does it matter?" she replied nervously.

"Because I don't, but it seems you do. You seem unusually attached to him, even for you." Orihime could feel his eyes boring into her and she tried desperately to evade his intrusive stare. "I have a bad feeling about him, Inoue."

"That's just how Ulquiorra is, Kurosaki-kun." She swallowed hard, trying to sound reassuring without dismissing his concern. "He can be very intimidating…he just takes some getting used to."

"You shouldn't try to defend him. He's dangerous, Inoue," he reiterated, trying to get her to see his point. "I saw him completely crush Renji with hardly any effort at all. There's no telling what he's capable of."

Orihime gasped, her eyes widening as she finally met his gaze. "He…he hurt Abarai-san?" That just didn't sound like him. Ulquiorra was very difficult to provoke. She'd seen the extent of his self-restraint firsthand. She'd seen his calm, collected façade withhold even in situations she knew some of her very own friends would have reacted violently to.

Before anything further could be said on the matter, they rounded a corner and came face to face with an access door. "I'm pretty sure this door leads outside," Orihime said as she guided him closer. She'd only used it once, a long time ago when Ulquiorra took her outside and showed her the desert when the storms weren't so bad.

Lifting a hand, she pushed against the heavy door. She grimaced when she noticed how difficult it was to open, despite it being a fairly normal sized door in comparison to most of the other gigantic gates throughout Las Noches. When she finally cracked it open far enough, they both grimaced and winced back at the harsh bite of wind that suddenly assaulted them.

"Kurosaki-kun, are you sure you really want to do this?" Orihime asked as she stared out into the roaring winds of the desert. "You're wounded. I'm not so sure this is safe for us."

Removing his arm from her shoulders, Ichigo reached down and grabbed her wrist. "We need to leave this place, Inoue," he said as he tried to urge her closer to the door. "Our friends are out there somewhere. Everything will be fine once we find them."

Orihime bit her lip and continued to gaze out at their freedom. The winds were intense, and there were little bits of sand fluttering through the air. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't something they couldn't survive. Still unsure, she glanced back towards Las Noches.

"Don't you want to go home?" he asked gently.

That question immediately drew her attention back to him, seizing her gaze with his.

A sudden wave of homesickness overtook her and she couldn't help but think, yes, she very much wanted to go home. She missed everything about it, from her friends, to her bed, to school, to the warm, warm kiss of the sun. Oh, how she had dreamed of seeing the sun again. She could feel Ichigo's warm hand on her arm. The only warmth she had ever felt in Las Noches was from Ulquiorra…and only then it was after she'd held him so tight his body had no choice but to heat up under her touch.

Orihime couldn't hide the vulnerability in her eyes as she looked at Ichigo and nodded. "I want to go home, Kurosaki-kun."

She didn't offer any further protest when he escaped with her out into the night, leaving the door open behind them.

The first touch of cool sand under her bare toes caused a twinge in her chest, reminding her of what she was leaving behind in her decision to flee with Ichigo. The sands were pale and cold and silent, a solid analogy on her warden. However, the feel of Ichigo's firm grasp grounded her to the moment, forcing her to think of hope and love and the laughter of all their friends. It drove her forward and gave her courage. She focused on all those wonderful things and grudgingly pushed away all thoughts of Wonderweiss and Grimmjow and Starrk and Lilynette and every other soul she'd come to love in her stay there.

Ichigo kept an admirably brisk pace despite his injuries, speaking to his determination. His limp was becoming more pronounced, but he didn't once slow down. Understanding his urgency, Orihime began picking her feet up faster as they ran, trying to keep up as he drug her behind him.

Orihime wasn't sure how long they'd been running, or how far they went, but Las Noches was still a giant, looming specter behind them, never seeming to grow any smaller no matter how far they ran. Before long, she began panting harder and struggling to maintain a steady pace. Ichigo, too, appeared to be wavering.

Just as she was about to suggest they slow down, the wind around them began to pick up, creating a steady droning hum. Orihime squinted her eyes shut as more and more sand started to stir into the atmosphere at the disturbance.

"K-Kurosaki-kun…the storm!" she called as she lifted her arm to try and block some of the onslaught.

"Come on, we have to hurry!" was his only response. His fingers tightened on her wrist as he guided them deeper into the desert, powering through the gradually increasing winds.

Suddenly, a harsh gust blew past them like the first wave of an explosion. Orihime cried out as her hair was blown back. Each little granule of sand that struck her skin became liken to a bee sting. She tried to turn away from the wind, but she could still feel the tiny pinpricks on her bare arms and legs.

Cruelly, their view of the desert around them began to grow more and more hazy as the air was filled with dust and debris, blocking everything out. Orihime coughed into her hand as it started to become harder to breathe.

"We can't run through this!" she called over the roaring winds. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded muffled.

Ichigo had finally come to a stop, simply unable to navigate in the throes of the tempest. Everything around them had turned into a wall of white, and what little they could see was blocked by torrents of sand flying into their eyes. She huddled closer to him as he frantically looked around, trying to think of some way out of the situation they'd found themselves in. "Kurosaki-kun!" she cried when the droning around them abruptly kicked up to a deafening, thunderous crack.

Orihime felt him pull her closer and wrap his arms around her. She gratefully tried to take shelter there, the burning in her eyes and lungs simply becoming too much. "We'll suffocate if we stay out here," she heard him say, barely making out his voice.

Orihime's stomach sank as she realized their impromptu escape plan had not only been thoroughly foiled, but had placed them in terrible danger. They would not be running towards their freedom anytime soon. If they even made it out of the storm alive, she feared they would never be free. "W-we have to go back, Kurosaki-kun," she said solemnly. "It's too dangerous!"

He seemed to hesitate at this. It was understandable that he would be so unwilling, but they had no other choice. With a reluctant nod, they turned as if to go back, only to stop once they realized how bad the storm had become. They couldn't see behind them, in front of them, or anywhere around them. Disoriented, neither Ichigo nor Orihime could remember which way was back. Even their footprints had long since been blown away.

Ichigo held her tighter as they both realized the hopelessness of their predicament. He had no power and was wounded nearly beyond repair, and she couldn't even call upon her shields to protect them from the squall.

"This way!" Ichigo suddenly shouted and grabbed her wrist again to begin pulling her away. She didn't know where he was going, and she suspected he didn't either, but she understood that they had to move. They had to keep going and search for shelter. They couldn't stay out in the open a second longer.

As they ran, things only escalated around them. There was very little visibility, but judging from the incline of the ground beneath them, they were running uphill. Orihime wanted to tell him to slow down, that it was dangerous, but she was a second too late.

One moment Ichigo's strong, reassuring presence was there in front of her, guiding her through the storm, and the next, it wasn't. His hand disappeared from her wrist and his blurry figure vanished from sight.

"Kurosaki-kun?!" she cried in fear as he disappeared over the edge of a cliff. She could feel the ledge under her feet, and could see a deep, sand filled chasm below, distorted by endless clouds of the storm. "No! Kurosaki-kun!" she shouted down into the void, hoping for a response.

Horror flitted through her mind, fearing the worst. For a moment, guilt filled her, making her regret her decision to agree to this poorly planned escape. If she'd never agreed, they'd both still be back in the fourth tower; trapped, but relatively safe. However, she quickly forgot her doubts as her sense of concern overtook her. She blindly felt along the side of the cliff, desperately trying to gauge how steep it was. Her hands bumped into the smooth, flawless trunk of a quartz tree and quickly held to it as the storm suddenly soared to a new level.

Orihime cried out in pain when the whip of the wind sent sand particles crashing into her flesh. The tiny bee stings from earlier abruptly evolved into deep, searing cuts. Her watery eyes clenched shut and her nails dug deeply into the tree beside her, grasping at it for dear life. Her long red hair whipped around her wildly as her clothes were shredded under the unforgiving sprays of sand.

A crash of lightning cracked overhead, making her whimper in fear. Orihime was sure she'd never felt so powerless in her life, not even in the face of some of her worst encounters in Las Noches. Helplessly, she tried to huddle closer to the tree, her lone anchor in the midst of the storm. Each breath became harder and harder until her coughing soon turned into violent wheezing as sand burned her lungs, no longer able to find a respite.

She could see another bright flash of lightning behind her eyelids, and just when she was sure she could take no more, the unbearable tearing of her flesh abruptly stopped. The soft slide of fabric covered her bare skin, blocking the onslaught. Strong arms lifted her from the ground and held her close. Lost in a sea of chaos, Orihime didn't once bother protesting.

"K-Kurosaki-kun!" she barely managed to wheeze out. "H-he's gone!" she cried to her rescuer. "I lost him!"

She wasn't quite sure what happened after that, but seconds later she was thrown down atop Ichigo's unconscious body. He lay face down at the base of a massive dune, his clothing just as torn and tattered as her own and his limbs half buried by sand. Orihime wasted no time in huddling against him. In all the bedlam of the moment, she felt as the wind and dust was suddenly blocked and a cool, solid chest pressed against her back. She trembled as a slender white hand covered her mouth, preventing her from inhaling any more sand.

Reaching up, she gripped at that hand in overwhelming gratitude. Her heart swelled with relief as Ulquiorra hunched over them, protecting both her and Ichigo from the storm with his own body. She didn't need to see to know it was him. His familiar presence was nothing short of a welcome reprieve.

She truly didn't believe the chaotic tempest around them could get any worse, but it did. Ulquiorra's long jacket – tailored to withstand the harshness of life in Hueco Mundo – aided in blocking most of it out, but there was only so much he and his jacket could shield against.

She felt him pull back slightly as he lifted his head and looked around, searching for someplace safe. Soon after, his arm slid around her and pulled her from the ground, his other arm effortlessly throwing Ichigo's lifeless body over his shoulder. Orihime kept her eyes tightly sealed shut and held her breath as he carried them both further down to the very base of the ridge.

She collapsed onto the ground as soon as he threw them into the mouth of a small cave. Orihime winced at the hard surface of the cave floor as it came up to meet her. Still shaking from her ordeal, she coughed and hacked, struggling to get air into her lungs.

The moment she successfully caught a breath, she looked up to find Ulquiorra standing in the entrance of the cavern, his forearms held against the mouth of the fissure as he braced against the powerful storm, using his own body to block the storm from reaching inside. Orihime's eyes widened as she watched his eyes shut and his brow crease slightly in what looked to be an expression of discomfort. His upper body was bare, leaving the flesh of his back to bear the full brunt of the gale-force winds throwing sand around like knives. The muscles in his arms were straining, and when she noticed a few small trails of blood running down his shoulder and waist, Orihime gasped in horror.

Those granules had torn into her soft human flesh like it was nothing more than paper. For them to cut through an Arrancar's hierro only spoke to the strength of such a storm.

"Ulquiorra!" Orihime pushed herself up from the floor and began to rush to him. However, the moment she stood, his eyes snapped open and pinned her in place. Orihime stopped short, put off by the displeasure in his gaze. For a moment, she had forgotten that all this had come about due to her and Ichigo's attempt at fleeing. Seeing the anger in his eyes suddenly reminded her of this.

Taking a hesitant step back, she swallowed guiltily and instead turned and rushed to Ichigo's side. She stayed there, avoiding Ulquiorra's eyes and watching over her unconscious comrade until the storm finally began to abate.

When it eventually passed, Orihime began clenching her fists fretfully as he lowered his arms and moved away from the cave's opening. As he turned, she got a full view of the damage the biting sands had left on his back. More guilt and concern washed over her as he gave several slow, heaving coughs, expelling the sand that had clearly filled his own lungs during his efforts to shield them outside the cave. There was little she could think of to say as he turned back to her, the back of his hand lightly wiping at his mouth. His green orbs narrowed on her and Orihime had to fight the urge to avert her own eyes.

"Ulquiorra…I…I can explain," she began apprehensively. "We…we were just-"

"Silence."

Orihime's mouth snapped shut as she winced back.

"Clearly you have no notion of self-preservation," he said with a dangerous calmness. "I am beginning to think you and the boy are more trouble than you are worth."

Orihime squirmed under his unrelenting glare, feeling intimidated and awkward. She was unsure what she could say to placate him. His scorn was well deserved. Their whole idea had been a disaster and had put them in some of the worst peril that she'd ever experienced in Las Noches.

"What did you expect him to do?" Orihime uttered quietly, trying to explain and justify hers and Ichigo's actions. There was no point in trying to hide the fact that this was all Ichigo's idea, she was certain he already knew. She'd spent the entire duration of her stay under his watch without once trying to escape. It went without saying that it was only under Ichigo's influence that she decided to try her hand at running. "He's only trying to protect me. You cannot bring him here and assume he would never try to leave with me. It isn't in his nature." She kept her eyes averted as she spoke, her mollifying tone failing to sway him in any aspect whatsoever.

"Protect you? He nearly killed you. His foolishness truly knows no bounds." There was condescension in his voice, and she didn't like it.

"Kurosaki-kun isn't foolish!" she hissed back, suddenly on the defense. "He was only trying to help. At least I know he cares!"

"Is that the motivation behind your actions?" He narrowed his eyes derisively. "I tell you I will never feel the same as you and this is your retaliation? I never took you for the unintelligent type, woman."

"How dare you think my every choice revolves around you!" she retorted, anger fueling her bravado. "I did this because I want to go home!"

"You will never go home." He suddenly moved closer, looming over her in an attempt to force her into submission. "You will be here until the day you die. You belong to Lord Aizen. Your life and the life of this boy hold no further meaning outside Hueco Mundo. The sooner you accept this, the sooner you will realize the folly of this heart of yours."

Orihime's gaze abruptly widened.

She hadn't said anything about the heart...why would he even mention such a subject at a time like this...?

Slowly, her features started softening, as if she finally understood something. She wanted to cry the moment the truth occurred to her, striking her hard.

"That's what all this is about…isn't it?" she uttered quietly, her eyes gentle and sad at the same time. "The heart." Ulquiorra remained stubbornly stoic, refusing to give her a response. "Me…you…Kurosaki-kun…you think I still love him. You trapped him here because you've tried to understand the heart, haven't you? You've tried to grasp it…and you simply can't." Had Orihime been any other person, she would have completely missed the microscopic tightening of his jaw that alluded to the fact her words had struck a serious nerve in him. His exterior remained unmoved, but that one small reaction was enough to give away the silent storm inside.

Unsure what to say, Orihime made to get up and go to him, but a stirring at her side stole her attention, redirecting it back to the young man who lay on the floor.

"Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime quickly returned to Ichigo, calling his name worriedly as he began coughing upon waking up. She placed a comforting hand on his back as he continued hacking and spitting up the sand that had accumulated in his lungs. When he was done, he looked dazedly up at her.

"Inoue?" he wheezed. His eyes were red and bloodshot from irritation, making her pity him. "Wh-where…?"

"It's okay. We're safe now, Kurosaki-kun," she assured him. "Ulquiorra came for us."

If it was possible for his face to sink any further, it did in that moment. "Ulquiorra? You mean…"

Orihime looked down. "Yes, we have to go back now."

"Damn it!" Ichigo slammed a fist against the ground as frustration and anger overcame him. Orihime sat silently as he slowly raised his head to glare at their rescuer. His brown eyes took in Ulquiorra's tattered form. Shirtless and with his pants shredded until they were near unrecognizable, he looked as if he had just stepped out of a hard-fought battle. His dark hair was a mess and his pale skin was covered in dust, so unlike the pristine front he usually presented. Ichigo's own clothes and appearance wasn't much better, but his bloodshot eyes and disheveled exterior was the least of his concern.

His last encounter with their warden hadn't ended well and seeing the man standing there before them, ultimately acting as their one savior, was more than just a sting to his pride. It was a horrible play on irony.

"You should have just left me. I don't need your help," Ichigo sneered.

"Yes, because your plan worked out so well for you."

"Better than being a prisoner to your arrogant ass. I'd rather die."

Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes contemptuously. "And was it your plan to lead the woman to her death, as well?"

Ichigo didn't even give a verbal reply. He launched himself from the floor in a rage, refusing to take Ulquiorra's insults. His fist reared back, aimed straight for the man's jaw.

There was really no time for Ichigo to react, for in the blink of an eye Ulquiorra had him pinned to the ground by his throat. His long, cold fingers gave no mercy as he held him in place, staring straight into Ichigo's furious brown eyes. Off to their side came the sound of Orihime's panicked voice, but neither moved to acknowledge her.

"It seems you do not find yourself accountable for you actions," Ulquiorra began evenly, the unforgiving pressure of his hand speaking to the seriousness of his threat despite the quiet of his voice. "Perhaps it is time I remedy that…"

Ichigo grit his teeth against the heavy weight choking him and cutting off his air. Anger continued to course through his veins, driving him to keep fighting. Reaching up, he grabbed at Ulquiorra's arm, trying to dislodge him with little success. His failure only fueled the fury inside him; his failure to free himself, his failure to escape with Inoue, his failure to even put up a decent fight, all of it weighed on him like an ever building chain of incompetence. With every second that passed in captivity, the chain only seemed to grow, link by agonizing link. His gaze remained locked with his warden's, neither one willing to give in. The seconds that followed felt like minutes as Ichigo's vision slowly began to blur around the edges. His struggling began to weaken, helpless under the force of Ulquiorra's cold eyes. He could still hear Orihime's pleading voice, but as time went on it began to sound muffled in his ears.

He didn't even notice when his hands fell away from Ulquiorra's arm.

Suddenly he saw a smear of fiery red hair beside him. Small hands pulled frantically at Ulquiorra, his pale figure becoming smudged as he started to lose consciousness again. Inoue's voice sounded frantic, angry even.

Soon her angered cries turned desperate and shaken. Stop! Ulquiorra! You'll kill him! He can't take anymore! You're hurting him! Again and again she tried to get through, but the Espada only ignored her presence.

It was just before he was about to black out that Ichigo swore his eyes were playing tricks on him. Even in the haze of his mind, he would have sworn he saw Orihime throw her arms around Ulquiorra's neck and press her lips roughly to his.

"Please!"

The grip on his throat instantly disappeared, finally allowing him to suck down a huge gulp of air. He rolled onto his side, struggling to catch his breath. Orihime's shaking hands were on his shoulder seconds later, checking his neck to make sure there wasn't any lasting damage.

"Get him up," he heard Ulquiorra's voice above them, cutting short any of the hazy, lingering thoughts he had left. "I'm returning you both to Las Noches."

Ichigo didn't want to return to that wretched place. He wanted take Orihime and leave this twisted dimension far behind. Her silent resignation irritated him, but even Ichigo could recognize the futility of fighting back. Here, right now in this moment, he was completely powerless. He held no control over their destinies.

The gentle touch of Orihime's hands helped him to his feet where he briefly wobbled on unsteady legs. His injured calf had reopened and had begun bleeding again, but there was little that could be done about it. Once he was stable enough to stand on his own, he offered the girl a sparing glance, only to stop short at what he saw. The flimsy clothes she had worn were all but gone, the violent sands having torn them to shreds. A few of the seams hung limply around her neck, arms and legs; her bottoms barely covering the juncture between her thighs. Her top was all but gone, leaving her covered in nothing more than Ulquiorra's dusty jacket. It was unzipped, completely exposing the flat planes of her torso and the rounded bulbs of her breasts.

Instantly, red overtook his face.

"Inoue…your…your clothes," he swallowed awkwardly, still somehow unable to take his eyes away from the hint of a nipple peaking out at him.

Oblivious, Orihime tilted her head in question at him. "My clothes?" Glancing down, Orihime felt her innards freeze at the sight she presented. Her breasts were nearly on full display, her legs totally bare up to her ass cheeks and the only thing standing between her and total nudity was Ulquiorra's torn jacket. With a sound of utter mortification, Orihime tugged the lapels of the jacket closed and darted over to where Ulquiorra stood by the cave's mouth, waiting for them to join him. Ichigo watched as she discreetly hid herself behind the Espada's bare shoulder, looking red cheeked and suddenly shy.

Something dark and longing sunk low in Ichigo's gut at the sight.

Sweet, innocent Inoue always had been rather conservative in her attire, despite what she was forced to wear here at times. So it was really no surprise to see her react so timidly under the circumstances. However, seeing her run to that man for shelter, pressing herself close to his side in an attempt to hide her exposed flesh, all the while being completely unaffected by the Espada's own near-nudity, sparked something inside him that he didn't like.

His stomach rolled as he slowly began to put a face to the hideous emotion.

It was green and ugly and…

Jealousy.

Ichigo Kurosaki was jealous of Ulquiorra Cifer.

"Come, we must leave before the storm worsens again," Ulquiorra ordered as he stepped out of the cave and into the desert.

Gritting his teeth, Ichigo forced the emotion to the back of his mind and followed suit. He made a concerted effort not to notice how Inoue subtly tried to keep Ulquiorra between himself and her, her small hands clutching his jacket over her breast so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Occasionally, she'd reach down and try to tug the twin coattails closer to her exposed backside, all the while avoiding eye contact with him. Ichigo cast their pale warden a withering glare, annoyed to see how unaffected by all this he seemed. His green eyes appeared utterly unconcerned for the entire situation; not for the way a scantily clad Inoue was sticking to him like glue, and not for the tension her behavior seemed to be creating inside of Ichigo. He merely continued to lead them through the rolling dunes back to the entrance of the fourth tower.

When they returned to Orihime's room, she immediately disappeared into the bathroom to find a change of clothes. Ichigo almost wanted to ask her to stay with him. Pathetic as it was, he didn't want to be left alone with their taciturn warden. He'd had just about all he could take of the man for the day. Without Inoue there to act as a buffer, he didn't trust himself not to do something stupid. Disconcerting as it was, he'd also begun to notice the Espada seemed to temper his own behavior around the girl. Both men were better off with her standing between them.

He watched guardedly as Ulquiorra walked over to the wall and knelt down next to the abandoned chains on the floor. Picking up the cuffs, Ichigo noted how his eyes narrowed in annoyance as he studied them. "I see they did not bother to restrain you when you returned from the infirmary," he observed aloud before muttering, "Incompetent fools."

Without further thought on the matter, he promptly dropped the chains and stood back up.

"You're not going to chain me up again?" Ichigo asked skeptically. Absently, he noticed the dried and cracking trails of blood on the Arrancar's pale back, as if he had been wounded but had long since healed. In the back of his mind, he filed the information away for later study. As much as he sucked at the intellectual part of things, even Ichigo recognized he would need more than just brute force to get out of their predicament. Any bit of info he could get could somehow come in handy later in their stay.

"There will be no need. A barrier will be placed around this room by the end of the night. You will never be able to leave on your own again." Just as he said this, the bathroom door slid open and Orihime stepped out. At seeing Ulquiorra was still in the room, she instantly paused in her stride. Ulquiorra's cold eyes watched her from over his shoulder, not once reacting even as she took a small step back and lowered her gaze in avoidance.

Not knowing what to say, Ichigo stood in tense silence, his stomach clenching from witnessing the odd interaction between the two. He hated the feeling, and he hated it even more that there seemed to be something between them that he couldn't grasp or even understand. He couldn't even tell how she felt about the man. She was usually so open and easy to read, but these days…

Then, just as suddenly, Ulquiorra turned to the door and began to leave.

"That's it?" Ichigo couldn't help but ask with a frown. "You're just leaving us again after everything that happened?"

"I cannot stay. Unfortunately, your attempt to escape has roused the attention of Grimmjow. This night has been troublesome enough. His presence would only worsen the situation and I have no desire to deal with anymore nuisances your exploits have caused."

"Grimmjow?" Ichigo's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why would he-?"

"Because he believes you to be his prey. To him, you are nothing more than a walking game of cat and mouse. Predator that he is, I'm sure you can deduce where you fit into that equation. With you out from under my watch, he would have removed your collar and attempted to slaughter you in the desert for the sport of it."

Ichigo swallowed hard at the thought of being forced to take on Grimmjow in the current state he was in, let alone after the number that storm had done on him. He wouldn't have stood a chance. Though he wanted to comment on the depravity of Hueco Mundo and its residents, or perhaps declare that he would never be done in by someone like Grimmjow, he didn't even get the chance to respond as Ulquiorra pushed open the door and made his exit.

"Do not leave this room, no matter what you hear," were his parting words. "If he sees you, he will undoubtedly try to kill you…I would prefer not to save you for a second time tonight."

Ichigo instantly bristled at his last remark, clearly reading it as a direct stab at his pride. His nails dug into the palms of his hands and his upper lip curled in a disdainful snarl.

"Smug bastard." He continued to glare at the door. "I never asked him to save me."

"Don't let him get to you, Kurosaki-kun." Orihime stepped up beside him and lightly brushed her hand against his arm in hopes of placating him. "Neither should you try to fight him. Regardless of what happened, he did help us."

"Only because he had to," Ichigo scoffed. "If it weren't his orders, he would have left us out there to die like animals."

"But-"

Before Orihime could finish, a heavy wave of reiatsu began to rise around them. She easily recognized who it belonged to. The angry and destructive impressions that pulsed around it were all too familiar. Ichigo looked back to the entrance with a grimace.

"It's Grimmjow-kun," Orihime noted anxiously.

Judging from the distance that still seemed to be between them and the steadily rising energy, Ichigo knew Ulquiorra had cut him off before he'd gotten too close to their room. As much as he loathed the thought of depending on that man for anything, Ichigo silently hoped Ulquiorra would be able to keep him at bay. He would never admit it aloud, but he was tired and weak as hell. There wasn't a place on his body that didn't hurt.

"Stay away from the door, Inoue." Ichigo grabbed her arm and gently urged her further back into the room. They hadn't made it but a few steps before Grimmjow's reiatsu exploded in a rush of fury. However, what really bothered Ichigo was the fact he could barely feel a reaction from Ulquiorra at all. His presence was there with Grimmjow's, calm and controlled as usual, but there was little to no reaction to Grimmjow's volatile power.

"Shit!" Ichigo cursed when an explosion suddenly rocked the tower. "Is he insane?"

Orihime could only wait in uneasy anticipation. She didn't want to worry for Ulquiorra after she'd only just resolved herself to leave him earlier that night, but her chest tightened in spite of her attempts to distance herself from him. What's worse, Grimmjow had always been rather temperamental, but with Ichigo now residing inside Las Noches, his behavior seemed to be pushing the limits further and further.

It was hard for her not to rush out of the room and try to put a stop to the skirmish, but she would not leave Ichigo again. She knew it would be impossible to be near him all day and night, but she would not abandon him during times like this. She would protect him just as he protected her. Once again, she was choosing Ichigo Kurosaki over everything else in her life, only this time it was for reasons far less selfish than her past transgressions. For once, it was for his benefit, not hers.

"We should get you cleaned up, Kurosaki-kun."

Ichigo looked between her and the door, as if he thought she was crazy for ignoring the very real fight that was taking place inside the tower.

"Ulquiorra will take care of Grimmjow-kun." She tried to sound sure of herself. "Right now, we need to get your wounds tended to. There's sand in them, if we don't get it out it will irritate the flesh and cause an infection."

He looked hesitant to let his guard down, but eventually he gave a reluctant nod of agreement.

Orihime spent the rest of the night cleaning Ichigo's wounds and trying to keep him calm in the face of the fight that was currently taking place inside the fourth tower. Ironically, she found she had to work twice as hard to keep her own heart untroubled by the night's unfolding events.

.

.

.

Orihime sighed and brought a hand up to wipe at her brow. She had understandably gotten little rest the night before, or any of the nights prior, and the heat of the room she was currently perusing was more than just a little stifling.

Ulquiorra had never returned the night before.

She mollified herself trying to believe he was strong and thus would be alright. Still, she worried.

When she awoke that morning, a barrier had been placed around the room. She was unsure if it had been Ulquiorra's intentions, or the intentions of whoever erected the barrier, but she later found that she, unlike Ichigo, was able to pass through it. She found out when she'd left in an attempt to find new clothes for Ichigo. Unwilling to let him sit in her room and fester with his wounds and that shredded, dirty uniform, Orihime had taken it upon herself to go out and search the only place she could think of to find spare clothing; the laundry room. She'd briefly entertained the thought of giving him some of Ulquiorra's clothes, but quickly tossed the idea away knowing neither of them would be very happy about it. Knowing where it came from, she doubted Ichigo would willingly wear the uniform, anyways.

It had taken her quite a while to find the room, but after several inquiries to the servant Arrancar she happened upon, she had finally found the place tucked away in one of the buildings within the dome of Las Noches. As she reached out and opened another cabinet, Orihime's face pinched into a look disappointment at finding nothing but more bed sheets.

She was beginning to lose hope that the uniforms were even washed and kept here. Las Noches was so big, it wouldn't surprise her one bit to find out the palace had far more than just one washroom. Sizeable as the chamber was, she couldn't imagine the massive number of Las Noches' inhabitants' even fitting all their soiled laundry inside it.

Whether she was in the right place or not, Orihime continued to idly wander the aisles of laundry, inquisitively searching wicker cubbies and marble cabinets along the way. Steam billowed in clouds around her, floating up from giant tubs of gently bubbling water. It filled the air with moisture and the fresh scent of detergent. Small windows along the walls allowed wisps of bright sunlight to filter in, casting a haze over the pristine white linens hanging from a complex weaving of lines throughout the space; each one drip drying in the heat and sunlight. Orihime briefly paused in her search to stare out one of those windows, watching as the fog gently floated out into the breeze.

Where would she and Ichigo be right now if Ulquiorra hadn't stopped them?

Would they be with their friends, laughing and happy and together? Or would they still be stuck out in that storm, doomed to perish in the violent tide of sand?

Orihime closed her eyes, unsure whether or not she was glad Ulquiorra had come for them. She wanted to see her friends, but at the same time…

She just felt so confused.

Trying to push the thoughts from her mind, she resumed her search with little success. After several more cabinets of sheets and towels, Orihime turned to ask one of the servants in the room for help. Surely they would know where the uniforms were kept. However, as she turned to approach one, she noticed too late that all of them had suddenly turned to flee out of the room.

She blinked in confusion as she saw the last of them beat a hasty retreat through the door at the other end of the den, their heads tucked down in a display of submissive fear.

"Wait," she called softly, hoping to catch the last servant as he fluttered out the door. Intending to follow after them, she raised a hand and pulled back one of the sheets that hung between her and the exit. Orihime's breath caught in her throat at finding Ulquiorra's green eyes staring down at her from the other side.

Like a bad habit, her heart leapt at the sight of him, reacting against her will. Forcing her hammering pulse to calm itself, Orihime tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and averted her eyes.

Her lack of greeting did not go unnoticed.

"You left your room again," he said as Orihime mentally retreated into the thick fog surrounding them, wishing it would hide her. "Do you really think that is wise after the past week's events?"

"I was just looking for a new set of clothes for Kurosaki-kun," she answered quietly. "I would have returned." Even with a thousand prayers hoping otherwise, she knew he heard her sharp intake of air when his fingers brushed hers as he reached up and pushed the coverlet hanging between them further aside.

"And you feel safe leaving him alone for so long?" Orihime closed her eyes and turned her head as he ducked under the string and stepped closer.

"Ulquiorra, please…" she began. She did not want to hear anything further on the matter of hers and Ichigo's circumstances. Nor did she want to hear more derisive comments about Ichigo's weakness, ineptitude, or how dreadfully close he'd come to killing both of them.

"He does not do well when you are apart from him," he observed calmly as he continued forward. For once, Orihime wished Rukia were here. She had always been the one strong enough for both Ichigo and herself.

"Someone has to take care of him." Orihime felt her back hit the damp wall of a bed sheet hanging behind her. An uncomfortable trapped feeling overcame her at that moment, even as she knew she could have easily pushed through the flimsy material. Ulquiorra's sharp, penetrating gaze made her feel cornered and helpless and she didn't like it. She wasn't equipped to take on his sharp wit and ruthless tongue at the moment. She was too confused, too muddled down by her own complicated thoughts to face anything he had to offer her.

"You said you no longer love him."

Orihime's hand clenched against her chest as her eyes darted back up to his.

"What?" she whispered in open mystification.

"In the cave," he stepped closer, his gaze never once leaving hers. "You implied that you do not love him."

Orihime struggled for a moment to get air into her lungs, frozen under his cold stare. Cold as it was, she couldn't help but notice there was a strange intensity behind it, something she was rather unfamiliar with when it came to her stoic warden.

"Is this true?" He was so close, she could see the little wisps of fog and sunlight reflecting in his eyes. Oh, how she loved the way his eyes looked in sunlight. Against her will, her heart gave another hard clench.

"I…" She didn't know how to answer him, or even if she wanted to. Implying that she no longer loved Ichigo could also imply that she was in love with someone else. Orihime wasn't sure if she was willing to make that commitment aloud. Perhaps a week ago, before all this happened, maybe she could have found the strength…but now…

No matter what her brain told her to say, her lips still resounded with a breathy and heart shattering, "Yes." She didn't like the way his eyes narrowed at her answer. Speaking it aloud in a verbal confirmation only seemed to make it all the more real, closing a chapter on that part of her life. However, it didn't make the here and now any more easy to navigate. If anything, it had just complicated things so much more than they already were. "It's true."

"What's true?" He watched her closely, as if daring her to admit it word-for-word. Though, as shriveling as his gaze made her feel, she couldn't quite tell if he wanted her to or not. "I want to hear you say it."

Orihime hesitated. "I don't love him."

"Why?" He was so close and his voice was so quiet, so deep and so smooth. How could he manage to make such a large room feel so crowded?

Deliberately looking away, Orihime gathered her strength, lowered her tone of voice, and changed the subject. "Kurosaki-kun told me you hurt Abarai-san."

Without missing a beat, he took the change in stride.

"Do you wish for me to justify myself?" Orihime shivered when she felt the touch of his hand lightly skimming up the line of her neck. She wanted to hate the sensation, she tried to hate it. She tried to hate how she noticed the humidity in the air was causing strands of his hair to curl around his face, and she tried to hate the way his hand took hold of her jaw and guided her mouth closer to his. "Is that what you want? For me to explain how the Shinigami attacked me? How I would never hurt your precious friends without just cause…would that please you?"

His lips touched hers and Orihime hastily brought her hands up and pushed against his chest. "No!" Her brow drew down in refusal as she wretched her chin out of his grasp and turned away. Just like before, his cold fingers forcefully recaptured her and brought her lips back around, holding them in submission beneath his. "Ulquiorra, stop!"

Their mouths were but a hairsbreadth away when he paused at her struggling. Her small fists were clenched in his jacket, trying in vain to push him away. Her chocolate eyes were peering up at him in a mixture of anger, pleading and hurt.

Orihime knew that she had, at times, kissed him when he was less than thrilled to receive the attention, but she had never forced anything upon him. Not like this.

At the very moment he stopped, she watched his eyes slowly lower to the hand holding her jaw. There was a measured, almost lingering look of contemplation that fell over his green orbs. Orihime stood beneath him, her breath a shallow thing falling against his chin. Even having been as intimate with him as she had been, she still had trouble deciphering the deep, shrouded thoughts that passed behind his eyes. Sometimes, she wondered if it was better that she didn't know.

But then, oh so slowly, she felt his grip gradually begin to loosen. Like a shifting in the tides, his fingers smoothly glided from her jaw and brushed over her cheek with the back of his knuckles.

For a short millisecond in time, Orihime felt a jolt of surprise rush through her at the uncharacteristic shift in behavior. However, all of that surprise was flushed from her system by the rush of pleasure that overtook her. Her body, heart and soul immediately responded to his tempered touch. He watched her soften right before his eyes. Her brow smoothed out and her frown disappeared, all of which were replace by a curtain of warmth settling over her features. A faint blush touched her already flushed cheeks, made all the more pronounced by the thick heat hanging around them. She could see a trace of sincere curiosity in him as she leaned her face into his hand, but she didn't care. All she could do was helplessly absorb the first true show of affection he'd ever given her…perhaps the only affection he'd ever shown anyone, she realized remorsefully.

She felt the tips of his black nails skim over her ear, lightly teasing strands of hair as he went.

"Woman," he breathed against her, seemingly asking for something that neither of them knew. His lips swept over hers faintly, and at seeing her lack of refusal, his hand caught against the back of her neck to pull her in.

Orihime nearly sighed at the gentleness of him, causing her toes to curl in her boots. It didn't last long, however. His lips soon parted over hers and, like he was intent just to have a taste of her, his tongue dove into her mouth. The very second she felt that cool muscle probe her, Orihime woke up from her spell and pushed away from him.

"I-I said no, Ulquiorra." Breathless and blushing, she knew she didn't sound very convincing. But Orihime had already given so much of herself to him, she was unsure if she could bear anymore. If he took anymore, if she gave him whatever shaking wisps of her soul that remained, she was certain she would be left as nothing more than a withered husk on the floor. He would make her just as hollow as he believed himself to be.

Wanting to retreat to the relative safety of her room, Orihime quickly pushed past him to the door.

"Woman." She hadn't made it two steps when Ulquiorra's firm hand grasped her arm and stopped her. Before she could protest, he slid two cold, metal objects into her hand. "The boy will have spare clothes delivered by the end of the evening. You will heal only his leg and leave the rest of his injuries untouched."

Orihime looked down into her palm and her eyes widened in unconcealed surprise at what she saw.

Her hairclips, each as perfectly intact and shiny as the last time she saw them, were sitting in the center of her hand.

"Ulquiorra…what…?"

"I trust you understand the consequences should you attempt a repeat of last night," he said before she could finish. "I assure you, the outcome will not be to your liking." All traces of kindness were gone from his person. His eyes had regained their grim coldness and his frown was hanging easily back in its place like nothing had happened between them at all. He watched her with an air of sternness, judging whether or not she intended to heed his warnings. She knew him well enough to know he would not give those warnings a second time. He'd already been surprisingly lenient with her and Ichigo as it was.

Once it sank in that he was giving her hairpins back, let alone giving them back for the express purpose of healing Ichigo, Orihime could hardly contain her glee. Some of the weight that had been resting on her shoulders lifted. She smiled up at him, too happy to even bother questioning why. His motives didn't matter at the moment. All that mattered was that she finally had an opportunity to help Ichigo.

Without warning, she leapt forward and threw her arms around his neck.

"You've made me so happy, Ulquiorra!" She laughed, ignoring how he stiffened uncomfortably against her. Closing her eyes, she threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled herself closer. "Thank you so much." She smiled against his ear.

Slipping away from him, she cast him another sweet smile over her shoulder as she left.

All the way back to her room, Orihime couldn't seem to wipe the grin from her face. She stared wistfully down at the barrettes cupped reverently in the palms of her hands. Surely it was reasons like this that she had developed feelings for her warden in the first place. Little as it was, the act of simply returning her fairies to her was not only a sign of trust, but of leniency.

Perhaps he was only doing it to keep her complacent. He knew that Ichigo's poorly tended injuries were a point of distress for her. By allowing her to heal him, he was keeping her contented enough to not try escaping again.

However, as she continued to stroll down the halls, Orihime couldn't help but believe that maybe, just maybe, he gave them back just to make her happy.

Unable to stop herself, she closed her fingers around her hairpins and pressed her hands close to her heart.

Just maybe…

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TBC

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Okay, first of all, wow. The support from you guys is really humbling. I can only pray you still have the heart to continue supporting me as I try to finish this. Secondly, damn, it's been over a year! I can only offer apologies. I truly hope my writing is still decent after falling out of the habit. I must warn you that things may not be as smooth as they once were now that I do not have even half the amount of time I used to be able to devote to this story. Also, it's been so long I have to apologize in advance for the possibility of me screwing up some of the plot. Having been over a year, my memory on what I have and haven't established is fuzzy.

Also, my great beta! Poor girl, I went and got too excited to post and she didn't get the second half of the story edited(forgive me!) I will be sure to update it once she has finished. : )

Love and new year wishes to you all.