A/N: This was supposed to go in my drabble collection titled "in the next life", but I think it's long enough for it to stand on its own. My drabble collection is mainly for the teeny tiny drabbles that are only like, 300 words long. So here we go!

Her dreams were filled with 'if-only's.

When Sora died, her dreams had been of him: his smiling voice, the warmth in his eyes, and the tenderness glowing upon his face whenever he came home from work. She would run into his arms, and the laughter they shared would ring. It rang and rang, until she awoke to the sound of her alarm clock, her smile withering like a flower; flowers like the hairpins that she wore in her hair.

If only we hadn't argued that day, she told herself. If only I hadn't been so cruel.

When he was purified, the dreams ceased. A part of her wished for them to return, but another part of her heaved a sigh of relief. Holding onto something wasn't going to make her feel any better, after all. And, for a while, she enjoyed the freedom. She dreamed of giant butterflies that carried equally giant breadsticks to her house every morning, complete with wasabi and orange juice and a bar of dark chocolate. She dreamed of entire armies of ponies, carrying fans upon their backs (the type of desk fans that blew air at you; swoosh-swoosh) to blow away the rising darkness of hippies. (She wasn't entirely sure if they were hippies; perhaps they were hippos. As cute as the babies could be, their teeth were growths of the devil.)

But then, her dreams transformed. They stretched, contorted, and writhed in the depths of her sleep, until they emerged in the form of Kurosaki Ichigo. And with them, the if's and the only's returned.

"Your constant pining for that boy is ridiculous," Ulquiorra stated. She whirled around in shock, toppling right onto her rear end from where she had been kneeling previously. "Ow!"

He did not spare a glance in her direction, only walking forward so that the light from the window illuminated him as well. As Orihime scrambled for a more dignified position, he gazed out from behind the bars.

"They are not there," he said. "He is not there. And they will never be. You will remain here forever."

Orihime fidgeted, legs twitching. She wondered if she should stand and face him. It probably wouldn't make much of a difference, though, and her legs were tired from kneeling. With a sigh she stilled, drawing her legs up to her chest and resting her chin on her knees.

"It puzzles me, how you can hold so much faith in these things of yours called 'bonds'," he continued. "They are invisible to the eye, and yet you believe they are always there. They cannot be touched, and yet you believe they will not break. How do you know that they have not forgotten about you?"

"I believe in them," she murmured.

"That is evident," he responded flatly. "You have asserted your faith many times."

She fiddled with the hem of her dress. "And I will say it again, many times more."

"Even if they were to come to save you, they will not survive. Once they are dead, will those 'bonds' of yours still prevail?" His eyes had moved from watching the moon, and she felt his gaze tearing into the back of her head.

"I…I just…" She buried her face in her hands. "If only I weren't so weak."

"You are being unreasonable." From behind her, fabric rustled, and footsteps headed towards the door. "Lord Aizen would not concern himself with weaklings."

The door creaked open. "I will return in a hour with your food."

And with a click, the door slid shut.

Ichigo was always just out of her reach.

Sometimes, he would be riding a piano and be drifting down a squirming stream of frogs, while she paddled desperately after him. Other times, he sprouted wings and was raised into the heavens by a glorious bright light while an assembly of naked baby angels (sporting the faces of Ishida, Chad, Renji, and Rukia) played melodies on their harps. She would remain on Earth, letting the light soak her hair and the fingertips that reached towards the sky, until the clouds clouds and the angels disappeared and she, once again, grasped nothing.

Even in the living world, all Orihime could see was his back as she trailed after him.

It was Rukia who walked alongside him, and she struggled to suppress the ice crawling in her stomach. No matter how fast she walked, the two of them were always ahead- their leisurely pace, footsteps following the same rhythm.

If only I was good enough, she told herself as they disappeared from sight, the tempo her feet carried irregular and tiring.

If only I was better.

"Ulquiorra, have you ever read stories before?"

"Stories are a human invention. They are of no relevance to reality."

"But, have you read them before?"

"That is none of your concern."

"So, you have!"

He did not say anything, although he did look fairly unimpressed with her discovery. Orihime failed to swallow the giggles bubbling in her throat.

"I find nothing humorous in this situation. Now, hurry up and finish your food."

"It doesn't make my stomach feel good when I eat too fast," she protested, but obediently took another bite.

"Whether or not your stomach hurts or not is of no importance to me, as long as you eat."

She swallowed, and took a sip of water from the glass beside her plate. "Okay, then how about you talk a little? It's…a little awkward if you just stand there staring at me eat, after all. I mean, I haven't gotten used to the frequency of your visits yet…like, you used to leave me alone and all…"

"Would you prefer it if I left?"

"N-No! I didn't mean that…! I like the company and I really appreciate it. I mean, um, please stay?"

To her relief, he did not move, instead turning his head away and watching the shadows that crept along the corners of her cell.

"And, uh," she continued, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a napkin, "maybe you could tell me a little about some of the stories you've read? U-Unless-"

"I have read these things you call 'fairytales'."

She perked up at once. "Oh, really? Ulquiorra never struck me as the type to read those, hehe! I love fairytales, you kno-"

"They are pathetic," he interjected, hard green eyes sweeping over her shocked face. "They do nothing but tear you away from reality. Are those 'fairytales' what inspire you, woman? Is Kurosaki Ichigo your prince?"

The 'if-only's trickled back.

"I-I-"

If only this were a fairytale.

If only I could be his princess.

She tried to speak again as she floundered. "I-"

At that moment, the door opened. Ulquiorra did not even acknowledge the presence of the quivering Arrancar servant who darted into the room. Begrudgingly, Orihime finished the last of her meal and piled the plates on the cart, and watched as he rolled it out of the room.

"Give up," the pale-skinned Espada said. "He will not come save you."

The words hung in the air as he headed for the door.

"You are in no need of saving."

When the war ended, her dreams changed once more.

They were replays of the battles, and each night she was jolted awake by the sounds of swords clashing and the stench of blood. It filled her nostrils and clouded her mind, and she choked back the bile rising in her stomach as she buried her face beneath her blankets.

Each fight was different. Sometimes, they were of nameless Shinigami and Arrancar. Other times, they were of various Espada, falling defeated at the hands of Soul Society's captains.

Most of the time, they were of Ulquiorra.

They were of his reaching hand, and of hers, reaching back. And each time, she felt as if she were drawing closer and closer, only for her eyes to fly open before their fingers could even touch.

The 'if-only's were suffocating.

If only I had healed him.

If only I had saved him.

Though, vaguely, she wondered who she was thinking of.

"Once they are dead, will those 'bonds' of yours still prevail?"

"Are those 'fairytales' what inspire you, woman?"

"Give up. He will not come save you."

"…And, and then…they started fighting! It wasn't the kind of nightmare that I had before, though. Before it was really scary, but now, they're okay! It was so weird, because you know, I've always seen them fighting with swords, but this time, it was with giant hockey sticks! It was because Grimmjow - I don't think you know him and I don't think you'd want to; he was really crazy - anyways, he took their lollipops, and then Kurosaki-kun wanted them back…funnily enough, they were strawberry-flavored! Ulquiorra was the lollipop master, and…"

She trailed off once she noticed that Tatsuki had stopped walking, and was staring at her in disbelief.

"…I-Is…something wrong?" she squeaked. "Um…we're not back home yet-"

"You…What are you talking about?" the short-haired girl blurted out. "How are you talking so happily about them? Weren't they your enemies?"

Orihime shrank back, gripping the strap of her school bag. "…I…"

"They kidnapped you, Orihime! How can you…"

Tatsuki stopped when the first tear slipped down Orihime's face.

"I…I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"It's okay, Tatsuki-chan," Orihime sniffed, wiping her face with the back of her hand as she smiled. "It's okay. I just…they…I…if only…"

If only…

She hiccuped, covering her eyes with her palm as the flood began.

If only what?

"I…I'm so sorry…I didn't mean to…"

If only they had lived?

"It's okay, Tatsuki-chan. I told you already, it's okay."

If only they had hearts?

She felt her best friend's arms encircling her in an awkward hug as she cried.

"Lord Aizen does not concern himself with weaklings."

"You are in no need of saving."

Holding onto something doesn't make her feel better, after all.

When the rain stopped, the sun could shine.

Orihime glanced over her shoulder. Behind her, Ichigo and Rukia were walking side-by-side.

With a little smile and a little sigh, she turned back around, and kept on walking.

A/N: Whew! That took a while. Not much writing, though, now that I look at it on the website. Too bad Orihime didn't display character development in the actual series after her stay in Hueco Mundo. Idk, this is more of an Orihime fic rather than an UlquiHime fic, but oh, well. I'll probably edit this later, because there are some parts where things don't exactly wrap up perfectly.

But the main bit of development in this fic is that, in the beginning, Orihime kept blaming herself about everything, but in the end- when she thought of the "if only they had lived" and "if only they had hearts" she realized that the circumstances never had been her fault. That, and the whole thing about getting over her obsession with Ichigo when she remembers that Ulquiorra said she didn't need saving.

I hope you guys like it, though! As for me, I'd best be off to bed.