AN: Long time no update! My computer died, and it took a looong time to save up for a new one. :) I was just going to finish the whole thing then upload it all at once, but sweet Ulquiorra Schiffer 007 convinced me otherwise. Enjoy!

Chapter 5

Warm, bright red blood splattered across the white Hueco Mundo sands, while a high-pitched scream gurgled under the crescent moon. The lifeless, broken body of the Quincy dropped into the sand in a heap of gore and stained white uniform pieces; his dead eyes still reflecting the horror he felt in his last moments of life.

Condescending, maniacal laughter chorused and echoed off of the crystalline dunes looping the huge and formidable Las Noches palace; Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez proudly stood over his fresh kill, his drawn blade dripping crimson. All around him Quincy bodies littered the sands, contorted and grisly, but he knew that this was only a small fraction of the Quincy forces that were invading the Hollow realm. Arrancar and Quincy skirmishes were raging throughout the palace grounds. His wild, blue eyes grew more passionate and eager at the possibility of an even more exciting fight than the moron he just finished off.

He sauntered off towards the direction of a large group of Quincy that were ganging up on a lesser Arrancar near the entrance to Los Noches. Before he reached the group, they were instantaneously destroyed in a single swipe of reiatsu and a cloud of exploding sands.

Grimmjow narrowed his blue eyes in annoyance as the hero of the lesser Arrancar emerged from the clearing dust. Tia Harribel stood in her released form, her exposed, tan skin marred by scrapes and bruises, while her bright blonde hair blew carelessly around her face. She held her giant sword oft, letting the tip sink into the soft white sands stained red with blood.

"Oi, those were mine," Grimmjow snapped at his queen, who looked at him with apathetic light green eyes. "Go find yourself your own Quincy bastards to kill!"

"Grimmjow," Tia Harribel started slowly, "I've been looking for you."

The former sixth Espada scoffed at her, "Why?"

Harribel's eyes narrowed and she pointed with a slight nod of her head towards a faraway direction, her eyes scanning the dim horizon, "We both felt Ulquiorra's reiatsu the other day. I want you to get him."

"Like hell!" Grimmjow nearly started to laugh out of the sheer stupidity of his leader's request, "I'm not gonna miss out on some of the best fights since Soul Society came to get some loser who's been hiding in the desert since he lost to that Shinigami kid."

A high-pitched scream of another dying Arrancar echoed off the high walls of Los Noches. Harribel quickly turned around to see the last seconds of the Arrancar's life before it was trampled under the feet of a large army of marching Quincy. The white-uniformed infantry battalion advanced in standardized lines; the human mass coating the white Hueco Mundo hills like a slow-moving avalanche. A tall man with a cropped hair, round glasses, and wore his cap over his forehead commanded the soldiering Quincy. He wore a short, white cape that billowed out around his shoulders as he led his charge towards Tia and Grimmjow.

"That's gotta be their leader," Grimmjow started excitedly, his eyes growing wild with the possibility of the final battle; he posed himself in a low fighter's stance, and gripped his blade tighter.

A command, distantly heard, was yelled from the belly of the Quincy battalion, and glowing spirit arrows erupted from the moving mass of Quincy like a blue volcano. Harribel shielded both herself and Grimmjow from the onslaught with both her released Zanpakuto and her immense spiritual pressure, which zapped the arrows out of existence as soon as they grew near her.

Screams of dying Arrancar chorused around them in sickening surround sound. Grimmjow could feel Tia's anger rising as each glowing blue arrow struck a fellow Hollow. "No more…" She seemed to say to herself through gritted teeth.

The rally of spirit arrows finally ceased, and the army of Quincy had come to a stop across a small flat field of sand between Harribel and Grimmjow, who smiled maniacally at the large host at his doorstep.

Before anyone else moved, Harribel took a few steps forward, flicking her massive sword to the ready. Grimmjow could see how her stiff her back was, and how every muscle was tense with suppressed rage. He had never seen her more angry.

"Grimmjow," Tia spoke to him while facing the horde of Quincy and resumed their conversation without missing a beat, "There won't be a fight to miss."

"What are you talking about?" Grimmjow asked Harribel's back; he could feel her reiatsu surging to a level past anything he had ever felt before. It glowed around her like a bright yellow fire. "You think singin' kumbaya or some shit will make them leave without a fight? I ain't gonna miss this for the world!"

Tia turned her head around and screamed at him, "There won't be a world if we fight like this! No more Hollows will die from these Quincy today!"

Grimmjow didn't want to admit it, but Harribel's outburst silenced him with fear. His puffed up pride quickly recovered, and reacted by becoming more angry, "You stupid bitch! How will not fighting solve anything?"

Lightning fast, Harribel had grabbed him by the lapel of his jacket and pulled him close to her face, "Listen to me, the Quincy want to think they have control over us—"

"I get it," Grimmjow rolled his eyes; "We won't let them. So let me—"

"No!" Harribel's fist collided with his face before he could even register that he had been punched. "We let them." She sighed, her voice nearing a whisper, "We let them…"

Grimmjow could taste salty blood drip from his newly split lip, his voice was incredulous, "What are you thinking…?"

Harribel turned her back on Grimmjow and faced the Quincy army again, which started marching ever nearer. "We can't beat them all with just you and me," She said seriously, "If they capture me, they'll think they've won, and it'll pause the battle—for now… The Hollow casualties will significantly decrease; if we just keep going, they'll end up killing almost all of us. Get Ulquiorra, and then the two of you get me. Between the three of us, these Quincy won't stand a chance, and the other Hollows won't have to fight. There will be no more unnecessary blood-letting in Hueco Mundo under my rule."

Grimmjow sighed, he knew there was no winning against Tia when she was this determined, and he patted off the dust from his jacket, "As long you save the leader for me, I'll do it."

"Fine," Harribel agreed, "The sooner you do this, the sooner you'll get your fight."

Grimmjow reluctantly turned around to go, but Harribel cleared her throat, "If Ulquiorra needs convincing, tell him he owes me a favor; I'm the one who convinced Aizen not to kill Orihime Inoue before he left to go the fake Karakura Town."

Before he could respond, Harribel raised her hand and fired off her signature wide cero into the throng of Quincy. With a grunt, Grimmjow sprinted off into the direction he last felt Ulquiorra's reiatsu, cursing all the while.

Uryuu Ishida arrived early to class, per usual, and the morning sun brightly lit the classroom to welcome this beautiful, clear Friday day. Only a few students had made it in before him, and after greeting them, he routinely walked to his seat and took out his school books and notes from his messenger bag and neatly placed them on his desk, which was annoyingly placed near the back of the classroom this semester. Uryuu sighed and stretched, and adjusted his glasses. His dark blue eyes glanced at the wall clock at the front of the classroom; there was still ten minutes before the bell rang. To pass the time, he pulled out a piece of scrap paper and began mindlessly doodling designs for new Quincy jackets.

"Oh!" He heard the happy exaltation of one his female classmates, who was gossiping with a few of girls near his desk, "I'm so jealous your uncle owns a costume shop! You're going to have the best costumes for the Seniors' masquerade!"

"We're planning on going as a Victorian king and queen! My dress alone weighs over forty pounds, it's so elaborate!"

Uryuu perked up at the thought of costumes. He wondered if Orihime was being serious when she casually asked him to the dance during the Handicraft's club meeting. Even though he knew they were only friends, a part of him really wished they were something more. Inoue was a beautiful girl, kind, and understanding. Not only that, but she knew about the unseen world, and supported him in his fights against the Hollows. She… Understood a vast majority of his stresses. No other girl he knew had that kind of knowledge, and he found comfort in her support.

He looked down at his doodles, and found his paper filled with costume designs befitting for one well-endowed female. He sighed and folded his paper in half and slipped it into his messenger bag. Orihime was just his friend. His friend. He had to keep reminding himself that there was nothing romantic between them… right?

The classroom was starting to fill up with students. Ichigo and Rukia had already come in and took their seats. The former immediately laid his head on his desk and started snoozing. Rukia appeared to be completely beat, too. Uryuu wondered if they had been chasing Hollows all night. He adjusted his glasses again and looked at the clock; there was only a minute before class started. His eyes glanced over the heads familiar classmates, but there was one girl whose absence was startling prominent in his mind; where was Orihime?

The bell rang, and his professor cleared his throat and started his usual introductory greeting before starting roll call. Uryuu's hopes dropped; maybe he wouldn't see Orihime today. He was tempted to text her to ask her if she was coming to class when he heard the classroom door clumsily slide open. The girl in question, Orihime, smiled sheepishly and apologized with a low bow to their teacher for being late before being dismissed to her desk. She had a window seat just one row above Uryuu's desk.

Uryuu watched captivated as Orihime walked down the aisle towards her seat. There was something different about her. It was so subtle, that if he wasn't paying attention, he probably would not have noticed, yet at the same time it was a monumental shift in her character. She was illuminating this confident glow he had not seen in her before. There was an insuppressibly happy spring in her step, and a knowing smile that lit up her whole countenance. Her gray eyes sparkled; she somehow seemed to be much more mature. And speaking of mature… Uryuu did not fail to notice that even the way she walked exuded her new-found confidence; she innocently swayed her hips seductively as she walked, and she held her back a little straighter, giving unintentional attention to her large chest. She slid into her seat with profound grace, and attractively flipped her long, auburn hair over her shoulder.

"Ishida Uryuu. Shall I mark you down as 'absent?'" Uryuu tore his attention from Orihime to the front of the class. His peers were snickering at him, while their homeroom teacher glared at him from his pulpit. "I've called you three times, weren't you listening? Or was the window much more interesting?"

Oh, safe! Uryuu thanked God the class thought he was daydreaming out the window, and not staring at the girl sitting next to the window. "Sorry, sir. I'm here." He mumbled his apology and sank into his seat, wishing to disappear. But as soon as the lesson started, he found his dark blue eyes constantly wandering back to Orihime. From his angle, he really only had a good view of the side of her back, and only the profile of her face. But one thing was clear: she was entirely distracted; physically she was in classroom, but it was obvious her mind was a million miles away. She faced the window and would often sigh longingly, and when she did face the front of the room, she cutely held her face in her palms and stare off distantly. Sometimes she would giggle softly to herself.

Uryuu looked at her worriedly; all of her symptoms pointed to one thing: lovesickness. And a bad case of it. He knew she used to have a massive crush on Kurosaki; maybe it was that love renewed? Or… Maybe… Uryuu shifted in his seat; maybe her attention was focused on another? What if it was him? He swallowed hard, and tried his hardest not to imagine the daydreaming girl sitting just one row above him walking up to him after class, all shy smiles and blushes, and tucking her auburn hair around her ear as she greeted him, then she would loop her arm around his and ask to be escorted to lunch and—

No! Focus, Uryuu, the Quincy commanded himself and concentrated his entire being on his professor. He would repeat every word his teacher said in his mind to concentrate.

"That's all I have for today" were the droll closing remarks his professor said, "Does anyone have any questions?" The bell rang throughout the school, effectively answering the professor.

Uryuu dropped his pen on his open, and entirely blank, notebook page in astounding defeat; his arms swinging limp at his sides. He hadn't paid attention to class at all. With a grumble under his breath, he hastily closed his notebook and plopped his chin in his palm, barely watching his fellow classmates get up and stretch and socialize amongst each other before their next class started. He glanced at Ichigo and Rukia, who seemed to be in a lively conversation about some sort of training. He saw Ichigo miming some action with his hands, and Rukia moved to correct it, obviously giving instruction.

His gaze eventually made it around the room and paused on Orihime… She was staring out the window, her expression happy, but absent, and the sunlight made her glossy hair shine and her face glow. She still held her pencil in her hand, ready to take notes. Uryuu smiled wistfully, and slowly got up and approached the girl.

"Orihime," he started in a tone that was meant to catch her attention, but the red-head only sighed deeply and smiled. Uryuu scratched the back of his head in small annoyance and tried again, "Hey, Orihime! Earth to Orihime; come in, Orihime."

She finally turned her head his direction, "Hmmm?" she started as if he were pulling her out of some deep reverie. Her beautiful gray eyes focused on him, and looked slightly disappointed. "Oh, Uryuu, it's you. Good morning. Can I help you with something?"

She could not have said "I'm totally not into you" more clearly than she did with that phrase. It was monumentally crushing, and yet… It was also exactly what he had been expecting. Uryuu sucked in a deep breath to steady himself, and adjusted his glasses. "Class ended a few minutes ago." He informed her stiffly, his emotions a whirlwind.

"Oh." Orihime looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time, "Oh!" She started blushing profusely and she set her pencil down. "Sorry, I guess I'm a little distracted today."

"I've noticed," he told her darkly.

She blinked, the confusion plain on her face, and she cutely cocked her head slightly to the side as she examined him, "Hey, are you feeling okay? You seem a little… down."

Uryuu said nothing, but he tightened his lips into a thin line, resisting the urge to say something he would later regret. He was being so stupid, really… He'd been through training to mask his emotions during battle, at yet here he was, completely crushed by, well… His crush.

Orihime started to chew on the corner of her pink, shiny bottom lip in consideration. "Hey, do you want to ditch the rest of school with me?"

Uryuu blinked and literally took a step back, "What?" Never in his life would he expect the class sweetheart to suggest sluffing school.

Her gray eyes narrowed in slight disappointment. "It's only this one time…" she reasoned, her eyes downcast. "Besides, we miss class all the time when a Hollow rolls into town. Why can't we just… do something for ourselves for a change?" The clear sky from the window shone brightly against her back, framing her in the golden morning sunlight. She smiled at him, and he instantly understood why there was a secret fanclub dedicated to her. "Besides," she continued, "We could make our costumes for the masquerade and… and talk about, y'know… stuff." She strongly hinted at something.

The last part was totally missed on Uryuu; he could only focus on the first half of her sentence. "Wait… You mean to say that… You still want to go to the dance… With me?" Oh, God! Uryuu instantly lamented his entire being for saying something so stupid; he must've sounded so lame for saying that! He turned his head away from her so his face could be hidden behind the curtain of his bangs and internally cringed as he carefully watched Orhime's reaction through a slit in his hair. She looked at him, obviously baffled.

"Of course, who else would I go with?"

Now he was the one who was truly baffled. Who else would she go with…? Uryuu faced her directly; maybe she'd go with whoever she was thinking about all through class? He was… He was so confused. He could only stare at her, slack-jawed, his glasses slowly sliding off the bridge of his nose.

"Do you have a fever?" Orihime bluntly asked him, "You're being very uncharacteristically un-witty."

"Uhh…" Uryuu started lamely.

Orihime sighed deeply, and hastily gathered her books and dumped them in her school satchel.

"C'mon; get your things. We have to be out of here before the bell rings." When she stood up and he hadn't moved, she rolled her eyes and gently pushed him towards his desk, "Let's go; we only have a minute left." Uryuu obeyed on auto-pilot, sliding his organized books off his desk and haphazardly stuffing them into his messenger bag as they started to walk out of the classroom. No one seemed to notice their departure, and the wide hallways were almost empty of students in the late hour. They had gotten only a few feet away the sliding door of their classroom when the late bell rung. Orihime exhaled in relief and smiled with mischievous excitement. Uryuu stared at the girl walking headstrong beside him; he had never seen her like this before. He wondered just what was going through her mind… And who she had met that had radically changed her…

"We must move quickly," Orihime whispered to him in a mock action-movie samurai voice, "It would be bad if the truancy officer caught us before we escaped."

Just as she said that, the school's most infamous truancy officer turned the corner at the adjoining hallway ahead of them. He was gruff and stern man, wearing the truancy officer's uniform wrinkle-free and with pride oozing from every crisp and overly starched lines. The students joked he must've seen some terrible things in the Vietnam War, despite the fact he was far too young to have participated in it. Orihime and Uryuu stopped short as the truancy officer's small eyes zeroed in on them. "Hey!" he called out to them, instantly recognizing two of the school's most infamous class-cutters, "I want to see your hall passes, otherwise you're going straight to detention!"

Orihime spun on her heel and yelped in happy excitement, taking off in a sprint in the opposite direction of the officer, who cursed and started off after them. Uryuu stood glued in his spot, his head whirling from the girl to the officer, lost in indecision.

When Orihime saw he wasn't moving, she skidded to a stop and called, "Uryuu! What are you doing? Run!" All bright smiles. All joyful expressions.

He heard the truancy officer huffing right next to him before he kicked off the tile into a headlong sprint towards Orihime, a small smile spreading across his face. He had no idea what was going on. But one thing was for sure; he had never seen Orihime behave this way, but she seemed to be having so much… So much fun, but not because she was with him; he was just tagging along in whatever adventure she going on.

They ran down the empty hallways, leaving the truancy officer far behind them. The morning sunlight was cut out from the large windows that lined the side of the hallways, causing geometric cool shadows and warm highlights to fall across them as they dashed through their school; Orihime smiling gleefully. They eventually made it into their shoe lockers and quickly changed from their school slippers into their loafers before Orihime ushered them, still running, of course, outside and out of the school's front gates. She did not slow down until the school building disappeared from view as they rounded a corner.

She was breathing heavily, her great chest heaving up and down as she attempted to catch her breath, her cheeks rosy with exertion, and little drops of sweat beaded on her brow. "W-we made it," she panted, "That was close; we were almost caught!"

"Remind me again why we're doing this," Uryuu dryly counted, his hands on his knees as he, too, tried to regain even breathing.

Orihime looked at him like it was the most obvious answer in the world, "Because it's fun!" Uryuu glanced at her as she radiantly smiled. Her happiness was contagious; he stood up straight and cleared his throat.

"Alright," he started, "What next?"

She glanced at him sheepishly, and shyly entwined her fingers together. "I… actually haven't thought his far ahead… I just wanted to get out of there."

Uryuu scoffed, "I figured as much." He paused slightly, but before he could reconsider he suggested, "We could head over to my place first; there's food there, and I have a bunch of fabric that we could play with, and I just got this really nice Husqvarna embroidery machine that I've wanted to try out."

Orihime looked at him, lost. She then blinked in recognition, "…Oh! Oh, you mean sewing." She tucked an auburn strain of hair behind her ear, "Yeah; that sounds great. Free stuff is always the best."

"I knew it; you're just using me." Uryuu half-laughed at her.

"I am not 'using' you; I'm simply capitalizing on my feminine charms to my advantage."

Now he truly laughed and led the way towards his house, following the suburban sidewalks and cheerful storefronts. It was really turning out to be a beautiful autumn day; the air was crisp and fresh; but still held onto some of its summer's warmth. The leaves on the few trees they past were starting to turn bright yellow, red and orange. Busy pedestrians passed them as they hurriedly commuted, and cars zipped by on the cheery two-way street.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, each absorbed in their own thoughts. But Uryuu was quickly reminded that, no matter how much fun they were having together today, Orihime was smitten with someone else: She sighed dreamily, and that far-away look graced her face again. Uryuu frowned, the disappointment returning tenfold.

"He must be a really great guy to have captured your heart so, although I can't say I approve." Uryuu casually commented, hoping to fish out an answer from her.

It worked like a charm; Orihime thoughtfully sighed and agreed, "Yeah…" she smiled, only half-listening, "Yeah, he really is—Oh! WHOA!" She stopped short, staring at him in terrified horror, "How do you know about Ulquiorra?"

The blood drained from his face, "Ulquiorra!?"

"Oh my God!" Orihime finally caught on that she'd been duped and turned beet red, she covered her face with her hands, "Oh my God, I didn't say that. I totally did not just say that!"

"You don't mean Ulquiorra the Espada, do you? Isn't he dead?"

"No, he isn't he—" She cursed under breath, but when she saw the expression on his face she gasped. She slowly approached him, as if not to frighten off a prey animal, "Uryuu…?" She started, her expression stressed, "Okay, you've got to hear me out before you make any judgments, okay? Just… Listen, okay? I told you it was a long story…" She was shaking, and tears were welling in the corner of her eyes.

Uryuu had to focus on breathing. In. Out. In… and out… Wary people walked around them, snickering about young love, as he forced himself to calm down, and Orihime was looking at him expectantly. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't stay mad at her, but he certainly wasn't done raging against a certain Arrancar. He sighed. That was better. He quietly adjusted his glasses, and fought to maintain a cool mask, "It's…" he ground out through grated teeth, "It's a long way to my house. Start talking."

She recoiled as he had stung her, sniffing as her eyes watered profusely. She looked at her feet.

Guilt washed over Ishida Uryuu, strong and hot. He rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry… I'm just…" He sighed, "Let's start over." He said, and Orihime nodded piteously, her eyes still downcast. "You said you wanted to talk," Uryuu gently prompted, and ushered them forward. They started to awkwardly walk down the sidewalk. He wanted to get home, and fast. If Ulquiorra was still alive, that meant the "dark reiatsu" was his, not Orihime's. He needed time to prepare if the fourth Espada suddenly wanted to take his… his girlfriend or whatever they were back to Hueco Mundo with him. "Please," He told her, "I want to know your story."

"O-okay…" She sniffed, wiping the excess moisture from her eyes. She exhaled deeply, then, looking straight ahead, she started her story. She began with her first encounter with Ulquiorra and Yammy in the park, then the events leading up to her agreeing to go with him when he had intercepted her in the tunnel between worlds. She told him things she had never spoken about to anyone; the twenty-four hour grace period where she got to say goodbye to only one person; how Ulquiorra was her caretaker in Los Noches; the numerous conversations she had with Ulquiorra in her cell, and how she felt about all of it. She told him what Kurosaki told Ulquiorra when they started fighting for the last time; how either Ulquiorra was more human, or Kurosaki was more Hollow-like. She thought it was both, and she was so torn, so torn when they started fighting. She didn't want either of them getting hurt.

"He just seemed so lonely," she admitted to Uryuu as they started up the last hill towards his house, "I was never afraid of him; I wanted to help him. I don't know why; I was just… I was drawn to him, I guess. But he couldn't understand what I was trying to say, and the entire time—the whole time—he was just trying to prove to me his point of view, because that was all he knew. He forgot how to be human; he forgot about the heart." She glanced at Uryuu wistfully, "Even his battle against Kurosaki was just proving his point to me. You remember, don't you? How he waited for me atop the dome before he… before he k-killed Kurosaki." She swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut against the painful memory. "But he saved us from Kurosaki. He sacrificed himself to end the battle, not for his sake, but for mine. He wanted to save me. He wanted to…To touch me. It was in his final moments that he finally understood what the heart was, because, I think, he gained one." She started blushing hard, and she told Uryuu how she felt her heart reach out to him, too, and that maybe, because of that, it caused them to be connected somehow.

"Connected?" Uryuu started, dubious, as they approached his front gate.

"Yeah," Orihime said, a permanent blush dusting her cheeks, watching Uryuu as he entered his passcode and the iron grate automatically opened with a hum of mechanicals. "When I got home, I started dreaming of him, but they weren't really dreams." She told him how she would relive his final moments with him every night. At first they just seemed to be reoccurring nightmares, but then she realized they were lucid dreams. She started talking to him, and he would talk back. They had spoken on almost every topic; they had come to know each other. And how he explained how his turning to ash was just another defense mechanism. She briefly spoke on how, lately, she started to share her dreams with Ulquiorra while she was still awake. She told him about the Gillan Menos and how he had saved her, about the pervert and how he had stopped him. His reiatsu was somehow within her. And with burning blush she admitted that recently, he had become seemingly more impatient with progressing their relationship, and so had she.

"It because obvious last night," Orihime confessed, almost in a whisper as Uryuu unlocked his front door, "That I like him. I really, really like him, Uryuu." Her smile could not be contained, "And he likes me back." She sighed, starry eyed, "It's extraordinary, don't you think? That a creature without a heart could love another?"

Uryuu could only shake his head slightly, "This is a lot to take in," he started slowly, opening the heavy oak door and allowing Orihime to enter.

"Yeah, I know. I lived through it and I can barely keep up."

He sighed deeply. He had known it was over between himself and Orihime before anything had even started. And now… there was no way he could possibly compete with the man—literally—from her dreams. As much as he wanted to take her by her shoulders and shake her until she came to her senses; she was his friend first and foremost, and, as her friend, Uryuu vowed he would help get through this. If he really liked her, he would help her; he would advise her.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but…" He started as he slipped off his shoes in his manor's front foyer, "We Quincy have centuries worth of research on Hollows, and not once have we ever heard of a Hollow regaining his heart. Are you sure he's not… well, tricking you to heal himself?"

"Of course not!" Orihime emphatically defended her dark captor, obviously hurt, "He would never do anything like that. He's so proud; he would never lower himself to admit to having human emotions if he didn't really feel them, even if that did mean healing himself." She crossed her arms, "Besides, my brother Sora regained himself after he turned into a Hollow. It's not impossible."

Uryuu looked at her sharply, "Your brother turned into a Hollow?"

Orihime blinked, "Oh… I guess you never heard about that, huh? I don't think Ichigo or Rukia wanted me to remember, Hmmm…" Her brow wrinkled in consideration.

Sweet Baby Jesus; he thought this girl was sugar-coated and an open book. He was so wrong. He adjusted his glasses in defeat. "Before you say anything else; I need some coffee. I think you need some, too."

Orihime paced the vast expanse of Mr. Ishida's study. One wall was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, the other, large windows that showcased an incredible view of Karakura Town's skyline, letting the warm afternoon sun pour into the study, which, Orihime sighed, was almost as big as her whole apartment. Rich people were so lucky…

Uryuu sat behind his father's giant oak desk, clicking away at the high-tech computer that was housed there, his face a wrinkle of concentration. Orihime could see large blocks of text reflected in his glasses. After they had a bite to eat and drink, Uryuu had drilled her for hours about her experiences, asking difficult questions that she had never even thought of. Finally, the younger Ishida sighed and grimaced, "I think I'm going to have to use my father's database," he had concluded solemnly.

Orihime had looked at him, concerned, "Is that allowed?"

"Not really, but he doesn't come home until late tonight, so we'll be okay." But his tone of voice wasn't so sure. Orihime knew Uryuu didn't like his father very much, and their relationship never had much love in it. She felt sorry for him, and in a way, she could relate.

So they had quietly entered the study, and Uryuu went to work gathering Quincy records that could help sort out what was happening between herself and Ulquiorra. It wasn't what she had planned, but, in a small way, she was relieved that someone had finally known about Ulquiorra. She could finally talk about how she felt to someone. It was so nice, to let people know; it made him more real somehow. She briefly remembered an American celebrity jumping on Oprah's couch because he was so excited to let others know how he felt. However, Orihime thought to herself, she was much more reasonable than that when it came to confessing her feelings.

She smiled happily, and hummed a little tune as she scrolled by the bookcases, her finger lightly running across the colorful spines. Most the library was dedicated to medical sciences and management; thick tomes with difficult-to-pronounce titles. But she was surprised to find a few books of poetry and some classic novels there. Shakespeare, Emerson, Kipling, Frost… A mismatch of famous rhetorics. She pulled out the book she was most familiar with, Shakespeare, and as she did so, she heard something softly clunk and fall. With a question in her gray eyes, she quickly glanced at Uryuu, still studying the computer screen, before she reached into the book's vacant space. She felt another book laying flat against the back of the shelf. "Odd," she murmured to herself, and carefully un-wedged the thin, fading blue hardcover and pulled it into view. It was a collection of love poems, apparently, and Orihime instantly imagined stern Ishida Ryuuken secretly enjoying romantic poetry and hiding his favorite book whenever he thought someone might see his soft side. Sliding Shakespeare back into place, she carefully opened her discovery; the book was coated with a layer of fine dust.

She smiled, and as thumbed through the yellowed pages, a slip of loose paper haphazardly fell from between the sheets before Orihime could grab it. The small square paper landed face first on the ground. Orihime quickly bent and carefully retrieved it; was this a gem of Ryuuken's own verse? She had to read it—

It wasn't a poem at all, but a small glossy photo of a girl in a dated school uniform. She was smiling brightly, her short brown hair falling gently around her eyes. Orihime stared at the photo; this girl looked so familiar… Where had she seen her before? She closed the collection of poems and gently placed the book temporarily on a random shelf as she flipped the photo over. In fading pencil, the name "Kurosaki Masaki" was printed on the back in neat handwriting.

"Kurosaki…" Orihime breathed. Of course! This must be Ichigo's mother when she was about her age. She had seen huge photos of this woman, as an adult of course, posted all over the Kurosaki residence. But what was this picture doing hidden in a collection of love poems in the Ishida residence?

"Hey Uryuu," She called him; he was still furiously working at his father's computer. He looked at her and she knew she had his attention. She started to walk closer to him, "Did your dad know Kurosaki's mom?"

"I don't think so,"

"Look here, I found this in a book..." She was about to hand him the photograph, but it was suddenly and hastily snatched from her by a large, rough hand. She gasped, her empty fingers stinging, and turned to see the master of the house glaring daggers at her through his glasses. Ishida Ryuuken stood just a few feet from the entrance to his study, his expression rough with suppressed rage. In one hand he still carried his expensive briefcase; in the other he cradled Masaki's picture in the palm of his hand, protectively securing it against his chest, his breathing rigid.

"What are you doing in here?" His voice was so low, it was nearly feral. Orihime had always been a bit wary of the white-haired Quincy, but now he scared her to her core. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into a small crevice and hide forever.

"Ryuuken!" Uryuu jumped from the large desk and literally stepped in between Orihime and his own father. "This was my idea; I wanted to help her with something."

Ryuuken glanced at the monitor, "I come home early to see my son polluting the hard-won Quincy knowledge with outsider? You're a disgrace to the cross you wear."

Orihime couldn't see Uryuu's face, but his entire back tensed, "Why do you care? It's not like you've ever been interested in actual Quincy affairs before. Besides, she's not an outsider, father. She's my friend, and a fellow human who is in need of our aid." His voice was strained trying to maintain a cool and leveled tone.

Ryuuken's eyes narrowed, "Stop right there. How many times will you make me repeat myself?" His tone clearly indicated he had given this same lecture before, "We Quincy don't bother until after the Shinigami have tried and failed. And even then, it's only if our family's in danger." Orihime looked between the two, her expression a mirror of the questions burning through her, and Ryuuken stared at his son with powerful seriousness, "Reinbluetigen Quincy are not meant to trouble ourselves over such petty matters."

Uryuu was quiet, his fists tightening until they shook and his knuckles turned white. Finally, he spoke, his eyes locked on the plush carpet beneath his feet, "I… I really respect you, father. Like how much you care about protecting our past, but…" Orihime watched in amazement as Uryuu straightened and stared his father down in the eyes, "I'm not a child anymore; I can take care of myself, and for me that means not running away or avoiding something that I have the power to control. If something were to happen to my friends because I followed protocol and did nothing, I would never be able to look at myself in the mirror again."

Ryuuken's stern expression crumbled and he literally took a step backwards; he looked at his son as if he were seeing a ghost.

"C'mon Orihime," Uryuu started suddenly, and without looking at her he reached back and grabbed her hand, towing her carefully around the senior Ishida, who still stared at his son in disbelief, clutching the small photograph tighter. Uryuu's grip was unyielding as he led her out the study's door and into the hallway, but Orihime could still feel his hand shaking. She grimaced, she didn't understand what was going on; even after all her time with Uryuu, she knew next to nothing about the Quincies or their customs, but she had gathered enough to know they were a very prideful people whose power was more or less their religion, and they had a very firm set of rules that they followed. She wondered how many times Uryuu had "broken protocol" to help Ichigo and the others.

She allowed the young Quincy to lead her through wide hallways with expensive-looking pictures adoring the walls, up a carpeted flight of stairs and down another long, lonely hallway, his grip on her hand never loosening. The entire time they were silent, and the atmosphere was heavy. Finally, Uryuu threw open a door and marched them into a bedroom—his bedroom—which was generically wealthy and tidy, the late afternoon sunlight filtering through sheer curtains from tall windows. Orihime watched with a question in her gray eyes as he carefully shut the door behind him, and then slammed his fist—hard—into the rich wood. "Damn it," he cursed, and he unconsciously uncomfortably squeezed her hand too tightly.

Orihime jumped and winced, "Maybe I should go home…" She suggested in a small, uncertain voice, and discreetly, but purposefully, wrangled her hand out of his death grip.

Uryuu looked at her as if he had forgotten she was there. "No; that would mean that he won." His eyes narrowed. "Just… Could you just stay a little while longer? I was very close to finding an answer. I managed to forward the documents we needed to my email before my dad rudely interrupted us."

She bit her bottom lip, "I—" This was a side of Ishida she had never seen before. He was usually so well-mannered and proper. It was almost bizarre seeing him so ruffled.

"Here, you can sit there; it won't be too long, I promise." Uryuu gestured vaguely to his bed and without preamble he sat down at his desk, which was of reasonable size, all things considered, and booted up his sleek computer. Orihime fidgeted, nervously running her hands together. Uryuu's bed was directly across from his computer desk, and if she sat at the end of his bed, she'd be able to look over his shoulder and see what he was doing. In that regard, it made sense, but still… That was Uryuu's bed… Finally, she sighed in defeat and carefully sat on the very edge of the end of his bed, which, to her amazement, was super soft and silky smooth. She was instantly jealous of the thread count. A quick glance at Uryuu's screen showed a bunch of open windows, all filled with blocks of text that she couldn't read from this distance. She exhaled deeply.

Within five minutes she was bored out of her mind.

Orihime settled into a more comfortable position on the full-sized bed, curling her legs under her, propping herself up with an arm. Closing her eyes, she wondered how Ulquiorra would have handled this situation, if she were in a similar circumstance with him… She let her imagination wander on strange tangents, creating an alternate universe where human Ulquiorra brought her into his home, but instead of helping her find answers about supernatural things, he was simply tutoring her in math, or something. And then his dad, human, and not insane, Aizen, would come in and get mad at them. But… She reconsidered, Ulquiorra was so loyal to Aizen, so she doubted he would disobey him. Oh! Instead of being his dad, Aizen would be his commanding officer in the military! Yes! That was better. Her alternate universe shifted to a 1940ish wartime military base, where she was an important captured prisoner of war deep in the enemy's territory, and Sergeant Ulquiorra was commanded to keep watch over her. She smiled and blushed as she imagined her attractive keeper in a smart, high-collared uniform wearing a matching cap…

She didn't know when she fell asleep, but she instantly recognized she was dreaming of Hueco Mundo. But it was strange; this wasn't like the normal dreams with Ulquiorra, and yet… she could feel him all around her. Her vision was obscure, yet was in perfect focus; she seemed to be viewing a thousand different scenes at once, it was if there were cameras attached to the swirling dust, and she was instantaneously watching all of them at the same. It took a while, but she started to figure out what she was looking at. She was far in the Hueco Mundo desert; the crescent moon dimly illuminating the stark sand. She saw lots of images of a giant crystallized bush from every angle, with its shiny quartz branches entwining together. She assumed this was where the dust-cameras lived, because they intelligently moved and whirled around the crystal trees. She somehow knew that this was a very important place for the dust-cameras.

And she could feel Ulquiorra everywhere.

His reiatsu was so heavy here, she felt like she was drowning in it. But she relished in the feeling of being completely consumed by him. She settled into Ulquiorra's deep spiritual pressure with a contented sigh. She didn't know exactly where he was—or, for that matter, where she was. She didn't seem to have a body; just her awareness piggy-backing on Ulquiorra's reiatsu, tumbling around with the black dust-cameras circling a beautiful crystal canopy.

She didn't know how she knew, but somehow she just knew that Ulquiorra's reiatsu didn't seem to notice that she was there. He was tense; the black dust spinning in agitation. There was something happening a far distance away that had caught his attention. Orihime tired to discern what was bothering him, but everything was so vague in this state, it was hard to tell what or where things were. She got the distinct impression that there was an intense battle raging; and a lot of Arrancars were dying. Again and again she could feel the sharp shrill of spiritual pressure release and then vanish, never to be seen again. Even though they were Hollows, Orihime still found herself feeling sorry for them. If she had eyes she'd probably be crying. Ulquiorra, on the other hand, was just as calculating as ever. She couldn't hear his thoughts, per se, but she could feel his emotions, or rather, she could feel the impressions of his emotions. He seemed to be keeping a grim tally of the battle, and it was clear Hueco Mundo was losing.

Suddenly, all of Ulquiorra's attention was focused on a familiar reiatsu hurtling towards them. Orihime knew this pressure… and yet, she couldn't remember who it belonged to. Was it… Was it Grimmjow? It had been so long, she wasn't sure…

Ulquiorra's awareness tracked Grimmjow's spiritual pressure as he grew nearer to the crystal tree. Orihime sensed Grimmjow darting back and forth, pausing every now and then. She wondered if he was looking for something. And just as suddenly as he came, she sensed Grimmjow's spiritual pressure pursuing another direction.

The black dust settled some.

And then it hit her like a ton of bricks. Orihime's awareness focused on the images of the black dust. No, not dust. It was ash. Black ash.

She inhaled sharply with sudden realization: She was seeing what Ulquiorra was seeing; feeling what he was feeling. She was inside his awareness. Orihime wheeled. She was inside Ulquiorra's head while he was awake, just as he had been inside hers. The black ash whirling around the crystal tree was Ulquiorra, or at least all that remained of his body. This was Ulquiorra's existence: an intelligent collection of ash with a cripplingly powerful reiatsu to move it.

It was unbelievably crushing to know this is how he lived, if you could call this living. His consciousness seemed to be tied to the crystal tree, and he could not move far from it. He was basically just awareness, a ghost of a ghost.

"Ulquiorra…" she sighed, longing more than anything to let him know she was there. She tried to saturate her emotions of love and support through his thick reiatsu to call out to him. To cradle him in her spiritual pressure just as he had done with her the other night. It was more difficult than she would have liked to admit. She felt like she was diving deep into leagues of water just to get close enough to cry out to him.

"Ulquiorra!" she called out again, hoping she would be able to reach him this time.

Ulquiorra suddenly became extraordinarily still, as if he were holding his breath in anticipation.

"Ulquiorra…!" Orihime felt like she was stretching to reach out to him; she knew she was almost there, just finger-lengths away from him now...

The world abruptly was rocked out from beneath her feet, and she felt like she was falling backwards; freefalling into an ocean of blackness. She was plunged into a place with absolutely no sight, and she reached out for anything to grab onto. "Ulquiorra!" she screamed in a panic, arms flailing.

And he was instantly there.

Although she still felt like she was falling and she still couldn't see anything, he was right there. His reiatsu protectively wrapping her up and calming her. When she blinked, she was standing atop the broken Los Noches dome in her torn Arrancar dress; a cool breeze shifting her auburn hair around her face. The clear night sky was ominously dark without the dotting of twinkling stars, but the bright crescent moon plainly illuminated Ulquiorra standing across from her. She seemed to have memorized his appearance, because she instantly recognized his stance and silhouette, but at the same time, every time she saw him, it was like she was seeing him for the first time; and she was excitedly nervous just being allowed to look at him. As always, he was fading between forms; his milky white, chiseled upper body was lit up in the dim moonlight, while his lower body was still pitch black and monstrous. He had only half regenerated his leg and arm, making them just splinters of what they once were; his dark wings already were starting to fade to ash. His midnight hair fell carelessly around his attractively stern face, and his striking green eyes were looking at her with a strange expression. Ulquiorra was breathing heavily, with his dark lip parted.

"Woman," he whispered, his voice uncharacteristically betraying his amazement, "Are you afraid of me?"

Just being in his presence brought her elation; every fiber of her being was excited just to see him standing in front of her. "No," she sniffed, overcome with emotions, as she stared into his handsome face, "I'm not afraid. How could I be? How could I be afraid if you're with me?"

Only his eyes softened with contentment, and his heavy reiatsu swirled around her tighter. When he looked at her, there seemed to be an unabashed glow around his countenance; a subtle expression hidden in his stoic features that was a mix between hopefulness, shyness and excitement. If she hadn't known his face for so long, she may have missed this radical emotion on him. He looked so good; Orihime remarked with a racing pulse, he looked really good standing there with happy expressions gracing his appearance.

"You were there." He started, a bit incredulous, and his green eyes were boring into hers with their intensity, "I heard you. I felt you there."

Orihime smiled warmly, "Yes, I was with you, Ulquiorra. At first I didn't..." She searched her vocabulary for the right word, "…Understand what I was seeing. But I knew it was you. I'm glad you heard me. I wanted to let you know I was there."

"You aren't just a dream." He stated simply, but with such relief it was hard to miss. It suddenly occurred to Orihime that even though he had experienced and done so much for her, he still had his doubts about her reality. After all, this was the man that dismissed the notion of the heart—of love and friendship—because he could not physically sense those attributes. It must have been a great reinforcement of her actuality for him to have physically sense her, just as it had been for her to have sensed him. And as suddenly as it came, Ulquiorra recovered from his awed reverie and stared at her seriously, "I did not mean to startle you before;" his deep voice spoke softly, "I've never shifted you here while you were aware before; it seems the transition was a bit shocking."

Orihime's brow crinkled with thought, "Transition?" She questioned, her mind reviewing the terrifying seconds of freefalling through pitch blackness before they had started to replay the scene from their memories. "You mean you brought us here?" She gestured around her at the broken Los Noches dome, "Always coming back here; back to this memory; you're the one who does this?" She was nearly aghast with the startling realization that she was purposefully brought back to this point. She had somehow just assumed that reliving Ulquiorra's end was just some cruel twist of fate, dealt out by a faceless universe. Never would she have thought that it was Ulquiorra who was manipulating their shared dreams to bring them back to this point again and again. It made sense, in a small way, that he could do this. After all, he had often used his recollection powers to show Aizen what he had seen.

Ulquorria's commanding eyes zeroed down on her as he explained, "This is my most powerful memory."

With tears filling her eyes, Orihime sadly started, "But this is where you died..."

"No," Ulquiorra corrected, his unique, dark brows furrowing with emotion, "Because of you, this is where I felt most alive."

Her heart surged when she heard his praise, and she softly smiled.

"You are so extraordinary," Ulquiorra quietly continued, "In all my years as a Hollow, I have never met any other Human that has so completely and utterly captured my attention. I can't tell you when you became so influential; you know I had mistakenly labeled you as inferior when we first met but…"

Orihime's smile and blush was insuppressible as she watched Ulquiorra struggle to find the right words.

His bright green eyes stared at her with intense emotion, "But after being with you, after speaking with you; there was something about you that I couldn't figure out. You were a just a gnawing curiosity a first; a perplexing Human puzzle who couldn't seem to understand what I was trying to say. I tried… very hard to prove my point of view to you. You know what I did and said." There was a sense of shame in his voice because of the pain he had inflicted on her while she was in Los Noches; she remembered his insulting words and frightening threats, and above all, his horrible battles with Kurosaki.

"But in the end," Ulquiorra continued as his stared at his hand while slowly forming a fist, his green eyes full of wonder, "I realized it was there in my hand the whole time."

Orihime's brow furrowed; "I don't…"

"Orihime," Ulquiorra interrupted her, and it sent shivers through her body to hear him say her name, "It's time to wake up now."

"But I don't want to leave you," Orihime pouted, disappointment hitting her hard. "Can't I stay with you just a little longer?"

The expression on Ulquiorra's face as clearly torn, "Never in my life have I wanted to fulfill a request as much as I do now, but—" Ulquiorra cut himself off, looking pointedly off into the distance. Orihime turned around to try to see what had caught his attention, but saw nothing but the empty, Hueco Mundo night sky. "We always run out of time, don't we?" Ulquiorra mused half to himself.

"What's going on?" The worry was plain on Orihime's voice.

Ulquiorra said nothing, but held out his hand to her. His body started to dissolve into flecks of black ash, spiraling away in the breeze. This was the worst part. Even though Orihime knew that it was just a memory, seeing him fade away never got easier. In fact, it was getting intolerably difficult to watch him go away like this. She felt her heart sink with emotion. She gritted her teeth and stepped forward, reaching out her dainty hand to grasp his, tears streaming down her face knowing she would never reach him.

"I hate saying goodbye like this," She softly bemoaned to him as she stepped ever nearer, "It's so painful. It's… It's not fair!"

"I wish there was another way."

Each advancing step Orihime took was slower and smaller, she wanted to get close to him, but she didn't want him to go away, "Ulquiorra," she whispered, tears glazing her eyes, her cheeks becoming rosy, "I…I long to touch you, too. It's all I could think about all day. It's like agony when we get this close, but can't ever get close enough."

And there it was. There were as close as they could be to one another when it happened; just an arm's length away when Ulquiorra's whole countenance shifted:

He smiled.

Orihime's whole being was filled with ecstasy at witnessing such a show of emotion. The corners of his mouth turned upwards just enough to be called a smile. It was half smug, half in awe. But she felt both jubilee and excitement that expressing her desires could result in a physical manifestation on him. She exhaled heavily.

In that brief moment, she was completely and wholly happy. She was basking in the enjoyment of mutual passion for each other. But the moment didn't last long. Ulquiorra was almost totally gone. With her face was burning, and tears were stinging in the corners of her eyes she reached out to him, "I'll see you later," she promised him as she curled her fingers around nothing but ash.

Later, Orihime would reflect back to this moment; had she realized the pain and torment that would come next, she would've stayed longer with Ulquiorra, and cherished the innocent times they spent like this.