thefeywood | "i'm not dead yet"

"i'm not dead yet"

[ Things have been...calm, in many ways. A strange, wonderful calm. While Orihime never took a calm moment for granted, making sure to keep her skills sharp and ready for what may come, she also has never been someone unable or unwilling appreciate each moment for what it is: a gift.

It could be easy to be melancholy after all they had been through, but Orihime prefers to see the strength in each of her friends--and, now, in herself--that brought them to the other side of conflict. That they can still walk out under the sun and see that Karakura thrives unbeknownst to the horrors it narrowly avoided. Walking home from school is so painfully normal at times, it almost makes her laugh. The endless night of Hueco Mundo feels so very far away sometimes...a dream.

A strange dream.

But one she wouldn't trade for anything, pain included. She looks up to the sky with eyes unburdened, shielding them from the sun before a light cloud cover passes over.

Some call her a dreamer, a "space case", "head in the clouds" or whathaveyou for letting her mind wander as often as it does, but she doesn't mind. Her thoughts can be as free as the wind, flowing easily down the streets as the sight of a single leaf is enough to bring a smile to her face. When she looks around, she can't see a tree that it comes from, so she kneels down in front of it as she holds her school bag to her chest. ]

You've come a long way, haven't you?

[ She reaches out to pick it up, spinning the little stem in her fingers. ]

Are you going on a journey? What's your final destination--

[ Yet, despite the sunny day, she can feel a shift in the air behind her--

--no, above. Her smile, still present, fades a little as the spike in a distinctly Hollow reiatsu manifests nearby. It's still frequent enough in Karakura, but even for usual sightings, this one feels big. ]

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( Emptiness. It's what he expected in those final moments. To feel the same, soul deep hollowness he'd felt in life as he had in death. Only he hadn't. There'd been something else in those final flickers - a quiet fascination to see something in those brown eyes staring back at him, a strange twist of what he doesn't recognize as disappointment in his soul with the realization that the first time he'd truly felt something came too late. And it's her voice he hears as he feels his consciousness drift, carried away by the winds of the endless night of Hueco Mundo.

I'm not afraid.

It's strange to find that as his ashes scatter, he can hear that voice at all. Stranger still to feel a soft warmth against some piece of him that he'd thought had dissolved into nothing. He doesn't recognize what it is, not at first. Not for the long, empty mouths where the particles of his soul trickle through the air, linger in the sands. But then one day, he understood, finally. Her. It's her - the delicate, warm caress of her reiatsu guiding him back towards something more. Pulling his fractured existence back into something solid and real. Whole. (And the irony of a hollow being whole is not lost on him.) He can feel the way it weaves him back together, pulls the seems of his ruined body in tight to seal his body and his soul together once more. An impossible feat for any normal human. For the trash of the human world. But he more than anyone knows, he thinks, truly knows that woman is something more than just a normal human.

I'm not afraid.

Her voice is what he hears in a distant whisper when he wakes upon the sands of Hueco Mundo once more, green eyes staring into the still darkness of the sky above. Whole. Alive. Alone. Curious.

It doesn't take long for him to take stock of the world. His senses are fresh, still as keen as they'd been before, helping him to map out the others around him. He knows quickly what's happened when he feels only the flickers of some of the former Espada. A distinct lack of Aizen and many of his followers. And he can feel it in the air as he wonders, quiet and observing. There's nothing but an empire fallen, relics of its greatness drawn together to rebuild a legacy of their own. Brimming with emotions like hope that only make him think once more of that woman. That woman who isn't here now even if he feels the fading ghost of the touch of her reiatsu on his soul.

Ulquiorra spends day quiet and lurking, little more than a ghost in the wind as he tries to put together the pieces of the time that's passed. And he realizes that there is no place for him here, just as there hadn't been in his time before meeting Aizen. Just the familiar nothingness that threatens to consume him. Only he understands that feeling in his chest for what it is when it begins to bloom: disapproval. He'd found something in those last moments, a curiosity he won't let go of, and he won't let it fade and disappear into the familiar emptiness he'd known for too long before.

That's why, he thinks, he uses passes through the garganta to the human world. His curiosity won't be sated here, but if she still lives, perhaps that woman can satisfy it. Once more become a purpose in an otherwise empty existence. It opens above some of the homes of Karakura. Above a street only a couple blocks from where she is. And he spends a few moments there in the air, eyes closing as he feels out the blips of spiritual pressure in search of hers.

But when he feels it, he senses something else too. Something dark and familiar that presses on a nerve. A piece of trash among even more trash. How troublesome.

It's easy to take that small step that takes him from his spot in the sky to one a few meters closer as the hollow emerges. And just as it steps out, opens it's mouth to shriek, fixates it's attention on her before it starts its rapid descent. And maybe she'll recognize the distant boom of his sonido as he moves again, appearing behind her as he lifts his hand, pointing a finger in its direction. The sounds of its shrill yell begins again, but it's cut off abruptly by the swift, green beam of his cero as it shoots through the air and the hollow. That shriek dies in a fading warble, and he watches, expression unmoving, as it falls, offering a short, annoyed: ) Trash.

[ It's nothing I can't handle, she thinks to herself. Surely they have all faced worse foes. And while keeping the Hollows in check isn't a responsibility that usually falls upon her, Orihime won't wait to let it become a problem for anyone else. Surely both Ichigo, Uryuu, and Chad can sense it, but none of them feel nearby--

Uryuu is still at school. She sensed tension from him before she left, though he had the same smile he always puts on for her own sake. Chad is on the opposite side of town, most likely heading to Urahara's shop. And Ichigo...well, she's always acutely aware of where he is when she can be, but she can't sense him at all right now.

That leaves it her. Assuming the Shinigami stationed in Karakura Town isn't quick enough.

Or it ought to leave it to her. Orihime is about to stand when she freezes in place.

Another reiatsu. A very, very familiar one.

Her eye widen, lips hanging open in silent surprise. The hollow that appears, ready to feast on her soul is barely a flicker in her consciousness when he leaves her only a few seconds to process everything at once: the weight of his aura--not quite as heavy--the stark white of his skin, the familiar shimmering green of his cero--all pieces that were scattered to dust back in white white sands of a world far away from this one.

Orihime stares, still crouched and half-turned towards where the Hollow had appeared, looking a bit like a fool as she still holds onto that leaf. It's a long silent moment that hangs in the air between them, air that has to find a place in her lungs again so that can utter a name she hasn't said in months, ]

Ul...Ulquiorra-...san?

[ There's no way.

She saw him crumble--his fingertips disappearing right under hers.

But it feels, it feels like... ]

( For a moment, he stands there staring past her as if she isn't there at all. His gaze is still on the spot where the hollow had been, but even his focus isn't on that. It's well and truly gone, he can sense that much, and he's more fixated on feeling out the spiritual pressure of those around them. They'll no doubt sense his presence if they hadn't already, and he supposes it's only a matter of time until they come descending on him here. Expecting a threat or a fight. But he has no interest in such things for the moment. Though it goes without saying, he has no problem fighting back if they throw the first punch.

Slowly, his arm lowers back to his side, tucking his hand into his pocket - quiet and unhurried. His gaze finally shifts, lowering towards her where he pins her with the familiar, even green stare. )

Woman. ( He greets simply, as if he doesn't know her name, hadn't thought it to himself countless times as he floated between one state of being and the next. He takes in the sight of her as he stands there. His gaze skims the length of her hair, the slope of her neck and shoulders, the shape of her where she's still crouched. She's different, he notes, starting to bloom with her human age. Not quite as soft around her edges as she had been but still distinctly human in her delicacy. Not unpleasant to look at, though he doesn't let himself think of a proper word for that given how brief the thought is at all. Logically, he understands this is what humans do - they grow and age, change from one year to the next compared to hollows who maintain the same forms with so few changes in their own vast years. It's different. Interesting, he finds himself thinking, to see with his own eyes. Have humans always been this... dynamic? Something he ignored because of his own indifference and lack of exposure despite their uniqueness compared to a hollow?

When his eyes finally still, they're on that leaf she's holding. Taking in the planes of it as if he's trying to find some value in something so small and meaningless. )

Do you often hold onto such things?

( He stands there quietly, posture rigid, but there's no threat of violence in his posture. Only a familiar calm that doesn't match the weight of his gaze on her. )

[ The moment that has them feels like an eternity. Orihime doesn't know how long she just stares, brown eyes wide as they dart across his form, looking for the frayed edges that would let her know he's an illusion. But that moniker that might as well be her name for how often he called her by it brings her back. Back to the sidewalk in Karakura.

Where the former Fourth Espada stands so casually like he belongs there. ]

You--...

[ Her voice sounds so small, like it's trying to find it's way up out of her throat. Her stomach is tight and she isn't sure why--but she knows it's not fear. No, she hadn't been lying when she said she wasn't afraid. Sad? Yes, maybe in some ways. She was sad when he died, somewhat despite herself. It wasn't as if he had been terribly kind. Duty-bound and frank, but there was something in his curiosity that had given her hope. Something that was proven in those final moments that that hope hadn't been in vain.

So why would she be sad now? Maybe it's not sadness. Guilt? Guilty that she's not ecstatic or on guard--the latter is what she should be. Ought to be. But Orihime is a lot of things she shouldn't.

She can feel his scrutinizing gaze and isn't sure if she should worry about if he finds her wanting. It's enough to make her finally stand up, making sure to keep her front towards Ulquiorra, where she can more easily defend herself if need be. But she doesn't feel like he's here to hurt her. Not with that stance. ]

Ah?

[ Orihime blinks, looking back down to the leaf. ]

Yes--no, I mean--sometimes?

[ A little leaf on a journey! Orihime has the feeling maybe the leaf had a better idea where it was going before she butted in, and maybe she's the one who's really adrift. She shakes her head to clear her thoughts and lets the leaf take itself back on the wind. When she settles, her own gaze is focused, brows furrowing as she leans forward cautiously. ]

But you!

[ Her fingers flex before she forcibly pulls them back into a fist, keeping that fist at her side. ]

Is this...is this real?

[ It feels real. His reiatsu is unmistakable. ]

How are you here?

[ He hadn't just died, he'd been broken down to the smallest bits of himself. Can someone really come back from that? ]

Why are you here?

[ Does he know what happened with Aizen...? ]

( The longer they stand there, the longer he watches her, the more he realizes he doesn't understand what she's thinking. What she's feeling in that moment. Surprise, he's sure, given the width of her eyes, and perhaps caution or worry? While he'd never outright harmed her, he had come to understand that she felt something about her captivity.

Does she think he's here to harm her? Take her away again? It would be a valid assumption. For the moment, though, he doesn't ask. Instead, he watches the way she releases the leaf, how she holds herself, and listens to her words. He's eerily still as he stands there, barely blinks as he considers the question.

The truth is, he doesn't know how, exactly, he survived. He has theories given her lingering reiatsu after he'd gotten his body back. But the specifics elude even him. Not that he has any problem sharing the facts of the matter, though. )

Even before I woke in this body days ago, I felt your reiatsu. Though I don't know how it's possible.

( If he feels a particular way about it, he doesn't say and it definitely doesn't show. )

Aizen is no longer a concern. ( Not lord as she might have expected. He knows some details of his current imprisonment, but there's no concern or thoughts of aiding or seeking him out. He had served him dutifully in the time before, but he understands he serves no purpose for the shinigami now. ) There is no one to stop me from observing humans to better understand this heart you spoke of.

( The heart, he can't help but think, that he thinks he held in his hand if just for a few seconds in the end. )

[ Orihime isn't sure what answer she's expecting--some inherent ability for Hollows to reform, maybe? Even though he had been cut so many times by the weapon of a Shinigami, maybe something different had happened. Maybe Aizen had found something more useful in a choice few of his Arrancar to have a Plan B, maybe-- ]

My reiatsu?

[ --it was her. She inhales sharply, shoulders suddenly tense. Orihime takes Ulquiorra in again, trying to pin-point any clear physical changes that have her touch. But...what would that even look like? Her ability is to restore to what it was. Not to change.

And yet...he is changed, isn't he? Attire aside, the real change that has happened is within. Some of the shock lessens from around the edges of her eyes and they soften, bit by bit. She's back then, in that final moment in the desert. ]

You're here...to learn about humans.

[ Or is it really to learn about himself?

Her free hand moves to rest above her own heart, feeling it beat steadily. Heightened, but not afraid. Not thrumming wildly against her rib cage as she stands nary a meter away from someone who she never imagined she would again. It makes her feel...like there was something unfinished. Something they only just touched on before it was too late.

There were days where Ulquiorra was the only voice she heard. And while he never tried to offer kindness in those moments, it was her only connection to the greater world. He was so sure of himself, of his place in the universe, of her purpose, of life and death. Of meaning and the meaningless. It had tested her own resolve at some of her lowest points, where she'd felt useless and a burden. He hadn't been a friend. And yet, there had always been something in his eyes that made her feel sympathy.

He had been human once. Just like everyone.

She is, admittedly, curious as to how he feels about how things went down. With Aizen. With everything that had been worked for. With the part he played...does he feel? Does he have regrets?

There are so many questions that swirl around her head, what answers he's able to provide only leading to more. ]

Ulquiorra-san--

[ But before she can continue, she feels it, the distinctive reiatsu of a certain Quincy making his way closer. Her eyes widen again, this time turning back to the direction she'd come from. ]

--we can't stay here.

[ Her hair whips around her in a wide arc as she turns back to Ulquiorra with resolve. ]

But you'll need to hide.

( The changes in her expression are subtle, but Ulquiorra feels as if he can see them clearly. He'd look at her so many times in those few days, watched the way she interacted with the world around her, but already, he can see a vibrance that hadn't been there before. Or had it been and he'd been unable to see it because of his own disinterest in her humanity or because the endless night of the world had dulled her edges? It's hard to be sure now that he's standing so close to her again after all this time.

Perhaps, he thinks, he's truly seeing her for the first time.

The thought is shortlived. Even before she brings attention to it, his eyes flick to the side, keenly aware of the encroaching reiatsu. The Quincy. One of the group who had come to save her before. He hadn't been near the level of the orange haired one with the black bankai. He isn't concerned about a potential clash, though he recognizes that sort of conflict would draw other attention. Attention he has no desire to endure, a sentiment she seems to share.

His eyes meet hers, and he makes no indication that he agrees or disagrees with her words. He only takes a step forward in a flash of movement that puts himself behind her. The only warning she gets that anything is about to happen is the warm around her waist as he pulls her back and against him before taking another step forward. And then they're gone - crossing whatever remaining distance there is between where they'd been and her apartment.

It's the same as he remembers it in the time he'd spent watching her before taking her back to Las Noches. But he's never been pass the door he brings them to, setting her down onto her feet. Perhaps surprisingly, he doesn't step away once he lets her go, only tucks his hands back into his pockets. She'll likely sense it, though, the way his own spiritual pressure softens - a conscious effort on his part to hide his presence even if he can't hide it entirely. )

Your home should be fine for now.

( As in, he'll hide here for the moment. )

[ She absolutely wants to avoid a confrontation. Explaining this to Ishida-kun? Explaining this to anyone right now feels impossible, in part because she's not sure she's ready to explain it to herself. While they had found stalwart allies amongst the Arrancar and former Espada, Ulquiorra had never tried to paint himself as well. If anything, he'd become the number one target for her friends as the one responsible for bringing her to Hueco Mundo in the first place.

Logically, there's no good reason she should try to protect him from her friends who fought so hard to save her. Would it be some sort of betrayal?

But sorting through all that will have to come later. She's following her instincts now, which is to buy them a little bit of time. But before she can issue her orders--her grand idea, that she is totally making up on the spot--Ulquiorra takes care of all of it in a few quick motions. ]

Wah!

[ Orihime blinks, the rush of travel in this way still...well, a rush. It feels different than shunpo, a little cold rather than warm, but her heart pounds for a few seconds as she takes in the sudden shift in surroundings. Her own little apartment.

Standing very, very close. She watches him, a little harried for a few seconds. If they're here. then, all Ishida-kun has to do is just follow--

When he let's her go, she tries to beat down the flush in her cheeks and she spins once again, putting a more respectable distance between a man and a woman alone in said woman's apartment! Of course Ulquiorra wouldn't know what sort of faux pas this would be, but still.

--But as Ulquiorra tries to dampen his aura, she exhales. Drops her schoolbag to the floor. ]

...This isn't right!

[ No, no this is definitely not how someone is invited to another person's home. And if he's going to learn about humanity, then he's going to do it properly.

Orihime shakes her head, in that same moment shaking off the lingering shock of the past few minutes and settling more into herself. She shuffles over to the front door, unlocks and then opens it, motioning for him to go outside and onto the outside landing. ]

You need to stand out here, knock, and wait for me to answer. Okay?

[ As silly as the request may seem, her stare shows that she is completely serious about this. ]

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"i'm not dead yet"

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