AN: Hey everyone! I thought of this randomly when I was re-watching Bleach. More accurately when I was watching episodes that had Ulquiorra in them. I really hope this idea hasn't already been written. If it has, please tell me and I wont continue this – however, if you want more chapters, all you have to do it ask! The summer is coming and I'm going to have too much free time on my hands!
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, but if I did I'd do a spin off manga featuring Ulquixhime!
Matte, Matte!
She sank down into the old chair, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. Orihime looked up at the chipped white ceiling. The soft sound of her air conditioning cooling her apartment that late summer afternoon buzzed. The sun was setting over the very distant horizon, reminding Orihime that yet another day had passed, and it was time for her to go to sleep.
Closing her eyes, Orihime Inoue considered sleep, but she didn't – for all her tiredness – like the idea of going to sleep in day clothes and without showering first.
She pushed herself from the sinking chair and made her way to the bathroom. Now, accompanying the soft drone of the A.C. through the apartment was the dulled ping of water against smooth skin, and the shower floor. These noises, so mundane and dry, seemed to awaken something within the house. A memory, of someone out of mind, but never forgotten.
It had been 2 and a half years since the last battles were fought in Karakura town. Over the years, all of the battle scars seemed to have healed. Not perfectly or completely, but enough that they didn't draw attention.
The Soul Society had quieted down as well, and pushed the events of Karakura to the back of their consciousnesses.
Orihime had as well. She was 19 years old and a student of T University. She'd gotten in on a full scholarship, even though her grades had suffered a little at first due to the amount of absences she had raked up in her high school days.
She was mush the same, maybe a little wiser, and more serious. But she was still Orihime, the sky princess, alone, and devoid of her prince.
From the bathroom, the showerhead stopped producing little teardrops of H2O, and the woman stepped out of the shower. She walked to her room, mostly nude except for the pale town wrapped about her, trying to keep the heat from the shower from escaping.
Orihime searched her closet for something nice and warm to wear. In her pursuit she saw the white dress, tucked neatly in the back of her small closet. It was a bold reminder, amongst all of her colorful, cheerful clothes. It didn't belong.
Orihime found a pair of pajamas: a cotton shirt and long pajama bottoms, and got dressed slowly, never taking her eyes off of the dress.
She had forgotten just exactly when she had made the decision to keep the garment. When she's folded it up into a square and stuck it in the corner of her closet on top of old shoeboxes to collect dust.
Sitting down on the floor, Orihime pulled the dress from its hiding place, spreading it out on the floor. There were tears and flaws in the once royal and powerful dress. She poked her finger though one of the many imperfections made in the dress. She forgot how that had happened…. Probably when Loly was attacking her. Loly – her old antagonist. Was she still alive? Orihime wondered. She had a sinking suspicion that she wasn't.
Who was left? Now Yammy, or Aaroniero, or Szayel Aporro, or Zommari, or Grimmjow, or Nnoitra, or…
"Oh," she frowned, grapping at the beating thing in her chest. It ached, for some reason.
The lost inhabitances of Hueco Mundo were like the imperfections in her dress.
Without thinking about what she was doing, Orihime called on her powers, whispering the chant "Soten Kisshun" under her breath. The orange barrier pulled over the piece of clothing, healing the bloodied scars, and erasing the filth from the pure white threads.
She watched the dress intensely, letting all of her memories pour into her. She remembered the last day she wore that dress, the symbol of her imprisonment and attachment to Aizen. She remembered the solitude and her tears that fell whenever she was left alone, which was often. And she remembered Ulquiorra Cifer.
Orihime smiled as the last strand of white thread was resurrected and sewn into place.
She relaxed her powers, willing it to recede to her hairpins, but a strange something caught her silvery eyes.
It was a fragment of something, as white as the dress, and perhaps even more so. It lay on top of the dress, so small that Orihime almost hadn't spotted it.
Under the power of Soten Kisshun, it grew into something that looked like skin, and then something that looked like a naked hand, reaching out to the heart it ached to grasp.
At that moment Orihime didn't think about the consequences, she could only see the shocking reality. That she was bringing something, someone, back. As well, she realized that that someone had never left her.
Yay! So, if you liked this and want more, please say so in a comment! I know, this seemed a little melancholy in tone, but I am capable of happier writing, I'm just not there yet ;) If I continue this, it will probably be like any other Ulqui Revived! fanfic, but I'll try to make it original! No promises that I'll actually succeed, though! Thank you for reading and or reviewing!
Sincerely,
Keomi-Sage
P.S. – those of you who listen to SUBs over DUBs probably have already picked this up and committed it to memory, so you know what "Matte Matte" translates to. It you looked it up in an English dictionary, overcome by your confusion, you probably found a definition like 'dull and flat(regarding paint tones or something like that)' and while that definition of the word is kinda valid because the color pallet of words of which I have chosen for this fic are a little "Matte". However, I am using Matte in the Japanese way. So, "Matte Matte" translates to "Wait wait!" If you review this fic and ask for future chapters preceding this one, the title will make more sense. Thanks again, Keomi.