[Author's Note: This short story was directly inspired by the Gorden Lightfoot song by the same title. Hope you enjoy!]

The other Wishes called him "He who Cries."

Everyone else had a real name, the same name as that of the human who had made the wish that brought them to life. Tia was named after one of the soldier's daughters, who wanted to leave the castle and move to the sea. Barragan was named after the castle magician, Old Bara'gen, who had wished to find a way to live forever. The ancient, wrinkled man was still holding onto life, somehow, and Barragan always claimed that it was the answering of his wish.

But, when the princess came and made her wish at the well, the Wish that had been born was a boy. For every other Wish in the well, it was a completely unprecedented event. They could hardly call him Woven Princess, and so they named him for the fate they believed inevitable.

The wish he had been born from was, after all, impossible. It had been since before she made it.

He didn't understand the human language back then, and so the princess's words were nothing more then sounds to him. He knew, in a way, what it was she had said she wanted, however, and he could not help but watch through the mists of the world as the subject of her affections was lost to her forever.

He watched with tears running down his cheeks as she smiled for her friends, congratulating the man she loved as he married another. His heart ached as she went into the garden alone, smiling still as her own tears fell to the stony path.

"Don't cry, Princess," he whispered, reaching through the mist as if to try and reach the girl he had been created for. "I can cry for both of us."

He watched constantly, unlike some of the Wishes. He learned bits of the human language every day until he finally knew what words had brought him into existence.

"I wish that the Prince of Kara'koura would love me like I love him. I wish we could get married, and live happily ever after."

The words themselves meant little, it was the longing of her heart that had born a Wish, but they were He who Cries' only way of knowing what it was he had been created for. A girl's desire for her love to be reciprocated. A wish that was empty of hope from the beginning, because she made it only after the engagement had been announced.

"Selfish girl..." he muttered to himself, once, as he watched her. "Selfish, selfish girl..."

By the time a year had passed, He who Cries was fully aware the wish he represented would never come true. He went to one of the wisest of the Wishes, a regal man who had been in the well for even longer then old Barragan. He was the King's own Wish, and a powerful one, for he represented the wish for a strong rule, which was fulfilled anew every day.

"What happens to a Wish that is impossible?" He who Cries asked on the day he had gone a whole year unfulfilled. Sousuke smiled kindly, though his next words were chilling.

"A Wish that is never fulfilled fades away when the wish of the human's heart dies. It is the opposite of what happens when a Wish is fulfilled, and is said to be an empty and dark fate, abandoned by a human's heart when cold reality takes over."

He who Cries looked at the floor. "Is that my fate?"

"No one can truly know that without knowing your princess's heart," Sousuke replied. "I do not, and so I cannot say. This I will say, however. You cannot tell what it is she truly wants by the words of her wish. Trust in the desire of her heart, and pray it is stronger then a whim she may abandon when she learns what the world really is."

Time crawled by for He who Cries. His princess, in her loneliness, still wished deep in her heart for something not even he could tell. And every day, as her wish remained unfulfilled, He who Cries became more and more solitary and lonely himself. And yet she never gave up on her wish, He who Cries never faded away as he had once feared. As another year passed, and another, He who Cries began to wish himself that she would let it go.

"Let me fade away into nothingness and forget at least that there was ever any hope," he said once in his quiet, now emotionless voice, his pale cheeks stained with tears of the past. "This is cruel, you are deluding yourself into thinking there is any chance left for you, and I cannot help but care." He reached through the mists for her, but as always the world of the well and the world of the humans remained separated. "Every day I see Wishes come and go and it seems so easy for them. Almost all of those I once knew are gone now, fulfilled, and happy with their humans in the life they wanted. Why does your wish remain, unfulfilled, yet still so strong? What is it you want?"

No answer was forth coming.

The time finally came when the King fell ill. Sousuke, the last of those older then He who Cries, disappeared during the night and was never seen again. The King was found dead the next morning, and all the Wishes assumed that he and his Wish had reached their final fulfillment. A long life well-lived and, now, finally ended.

He who Cries was the oldest Wish of the well, and yet he knew little of those around him. His entire being was centered around the princess whose heart so confused him, and the younger Wishes knew it. They went to the next oldest for their advice, then, the Wish of a soldier who wanted nothing more then his younger sister's safe return to the castle. He who Cries had spoken to the other older Wishes once or twice, but he didn't have much interest in what the others did. They were nothing to him. Merely distractions to the mystery of the human heart he wanted to solve.

Slowly, he began to see her cheerful mask crack. The years were carrying on, and the innocence of her youth was faded. The castle was emptying, those that had lived and flourished under the rule of the old king now sought other homes, for a kingdom with no king was weak. And there was no king. The regent tried his best, but he was a suspicious young man whom others trusted about as much as he trusted them. The kingdom was falling.

And his princess was crying because of it. He wished she would stop, or that he could stop, but her mysterious wish only strengthened with every passing day, and so he found no release in the abyss of emptiness that awaited forsaken Wishes.

One day, she returned to the well. He who Cries had been watching through the mists all day, he had seen the regent stroke the princess's cheek before saying calmly that the kingdom was lost. He, who had stayed in the old king's shadow for longer then anyone else, was finally giving up on the kingdom as well.

That afternoon, he took his few followers and left. The castle stood empty, dark and cold, with only the few servants too old or too young to leave remaining, and the few guards only those soldiers that had served the princess's family too long for them to consider leaving her.

The Wishing Well was empty as well. The Wishes had left with their humans, and those that remained kept to themselves. He who Cries alone was watching as the princess sat carefully on the wall of the well, looking down into the water her world showed her.

"I wish..." she whispered, her words echoing through the mists. "I wish for him..."

He who Cries felt a cold hopelessness deep inside. How could she still be wishing for something that was clearly not going to happen?

"Are you ever going to let it go?" he whispered back, too quiet for the sound to reach even his own ears.

She reached down, trailing a hand through the water in the well. He who Cries saw the mist ripple in response to the movement of the mirror-like surface, and he subconsciously reached up with one hand to try and still it.

In two worlds that never touched, two hands connected with the lightest of brushes.

He who Cries drew in a sharp breath, choking as a mist thicker then any he had ever known poured into his throat. The floor disappeared from under his feet, and for a moment it seemed like the whole world had gone dark. His out-stretched hand came in contact with something and he latched onto it, struggling to find something that made sense in this dark, cold, stifling place.

Fingers closed about his thin wrist. He scrambled against the stones of a wall as he was pulled upward, finally catching a hold and managing to heave himself out of the choking dense mist.

"Are you alright? Oh my goodness, are you alive?!"

He knew that voice, but never had he heard it so clearly. He coughed violently, trying to clear his tumbled thoughts as he cleared his lungs. Only then did he look up, fingers clenching in the green vegetation he seemed to be kneeling on.

"Woven... Princess," he said slowly, seeing her first and then turning his attention on his surroundings. He was kneeling outside. Outside of the well. How? He turned on his hands and knees and grabbed the edge of the wall, peering carefully over back down. It was water... the dense mist was water. He had never felt water before. He reached out and dipped a finger in it, wondering if it would take him back.

"Don't do that, you might fall in again!" the Woven Princess exclaimed, grabbing his free hand and tugging him back. "Oh, how did you fall in there? And why did you call me that? Who are you?"

He looked back at her, and at the hand linked with his own. "I... was in the well," he replied slowly, not sure how else to answer her. He hadn't spoken in the human language before except inside his own mind, so he was also careful to say each word with precision. "Watching you. Woven Princess, it is your name."

She smiled, the cheerful smile that had hidden her tears for so many years. "Don't be silly, my name isn't... however you pronounce that. It's Orihime."

He who Cries realized that he had spoken her name in his own language, in the Wish language. Of course she wouldn't understand. He carefully untangled his fingers from hers, adjusting his position so he was sitting in the... grass, back against the well.

The princess... no, Orihime, sat down in front of him, looking at him curiously. "Who are you?" she repeated, slowly. He hesitated for a moment before replying.

"I am He who Cries," he said, not sure what the proper human words were for his name and so saying it as he was used to it. Orihime repeated it, but predictably stumbled over the punctuation of the foreign words.

"Ulur... Url... Ulqu...e... orra? Ulquiorra? That's a nice name."

He was a little surprised by this. "It's... nice?" he asked, and she nodded happily.

"It's got a very nice flow to it," she said. "Like a bird singing. Ul-qui-or-ra. Ul-qui-or-raaaa." She laughed lightly

"I see..."

Orihime looked at him seriously again, her smile fading. "So... you were in the well because you were watching me. What does that mean? I didn't see you fall in... did you swim in from some underground river or something? Are you a spy from He'owako Mondus?"

He who Cries, now also called Ulquiorra, shook his head. "I am... your Wish. The wish you made when you were eleven, and the prince you loved was engaged to someone else in an arranged marriage."

Orihime drew in a sharp breath, raising a hand to her lips. "Oh... my. You... you were the answer to that wish? And you waited? Ulquiorra... why?!"

Ulquiorra was confused. Answer to a wish? Like... fulfillment? But he was the Wish, not the fulfillment...

"No, I was waiting for that man to come back, for your wish to be fulfilled," he said, hoping this was a good enough answer for a question he didn't quite understand. Orihime didn't seem satisfied.

"I was a little girl back then," she said sternly. "I didn't know what I wanted, not really. I wished that Prince Ichigo would marry me, but what I wanted, truly wanted, was someone to love me. Care about me. My father never really did, he was too concerned with the power of the kingdom. The nobles children liked me well enough, but they could only come and play when their parents were here, which wasn't often." She stopped for a moment, looking at the ground.

"What I wanted was someone who would stay with me. Someone I could tell anything, and who could tell anything to me. Someone to walk with me in the garden when I needed to be alone, but still have a companion. Someone to cry for me when I needed to but was forced to smile instead.

"The Prince was destined for someone else. I accepted that years ago. All this time, all I've been wishing was for someone to fill this loneliness I have been hiding my whole life."

Loneliness. He had sought it out, trying to understand her. Maybe, in some subconscious way unique to Wishes, he had been searching for a more specific loneliness then he had thought.

"What should a Wish do when there is no Fulfillment?" he asked her, and she shrugged, a small smile returning to her lips.

"Fulfill it yourself. Don't wait for someone else to make it happen for you."

.

None of the servants or soldiers asked where the princess's strange young companion came from. With his solemn eyes and pale skin, they assumed he was a refugee from the warring lands down the mountain, and neither princess nor Wish bothered to correct them. They were rarely apart during the day, for Orihime was instructing Ulquiorra in the ways of humans, and explaining to him all the events he had seen through a shroud of mist in the world of the well.

One day, only a few short, human months after he had somehow climbed out of his world, Ulquiorra went back to the wishing well. He looked down into it and saw only his own reflection in the clear water.

"I wish," he said quietly, rolling a small stone between his fingers. "To understand her heart."

With that, he flicked the pebble into the water, and turned away. He had finally given voice to his own wish, and he did so with determination, as he knew what it felt like for a Wish to remain unfulfilled. With purpose in his stride, he returned to the castle and his Woven Princess.

They would, in time, fulfill both wishes.