I live! I apologize sincerely for the long wait, but writer's block has held me in its grip for a while. But here is the fifteenth chapter of Western Princess.

Thanks to my beta DarthHawk32 for editing this.

Orihime's eyes fluttered open. She blinked to clear her vision. She was lying on some blankets in what appeared to be a tent. She sat up carefully, moving different parts of her body to make sure that everything still worked. When she had concluded that nothing was broken, she began to work on the next task.

Trying to figure out where she was.

Biting her lower lip, Orihime crawled over to the opening of the tent. She cautiously peeled back the flap, and soon felt horror wash over her body. There were other tents, and men milled about the campsite. They looked rough and crude, and a horrible stench wafted from most of them. She covered her nose with her hand, gagging slightly. Had they never heard of bathing?

Her gaze latched onto one of the men, and memories of today – or possibly yesterday? How much time had passed? – flooded her mind. She bit her lip harder to keep from screaming.

Oh, no. No, no. No, no!

Hysteria threatened to overtake her, and she quickly dropped the material and scooted back onto the blankets, hugging her knees to her chest. She fought to keep the panic under control by breathing in and out deeply. She just had to be patient. Ichigo would come for her soon.

Right?

Tears welled in her eyes. Maybe not. After all, he had not wanted a wife in the first place. And during the past few months, he had separated himself from her even more. He would see this as a good thing.

Ichigo set the tray on the small table with a clunk, and turned to face her. "Orihime, let me tell you this. I may not have been expecting you to come, and I may not be entirely happy that you are here, but you are my responsibility. And I take responsibility very seriously. So you don't have to worry about anything. Got it?"

Orihime paused. That had been after she'd bruised her hip, and he had kept his word. She was well taken care of. She had food, shelter, and clothing. Yes, Ichigo would come and save her. Maybe Rangiku would...

Pain stabbed her heart. No, Rangiku was dead. That man – that murderer – had killed her. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she brushed it away. She had to be strong. She could survive this.

A shadow fell across the tent, and she stiffened. A hand reached to pull back the opening.

"Grimmjow! Aizen wants to see you. Now." Orihime recognized this voice as the other man who had been there when Sora had been killed.

The man scowled. "I'm busy."

"I don't suggest defying his orders again. You're already in trouble, and disobeying will only add more punishment."

Grimmjow muttered something under his breath, but stepped away from the tent. He followed after the other man, leaving Orihime there shaking.

She had to get out of here. But how? There were at least thirty men here, and they would surely notice her sneaking around the camp. Hide-and-seek hadn't been one of her favorite games. Besides, she wasn't sure what they would do to her if they found her. Bile rose in her throat. Perhaps it would be better to just sit and wait here for help.

Orihime rested her head on her knees and closed her eyes. Depending on how long she had been missing, Ichigo could possibly be on his way. Would he be able to find her? She had no idea where they were, or how long they had traveled to get here.

A few more tears fell from her eyes, but she didn't notice. She just curled up in a little ball and fell into a fitful sleep.

Night had fallen on the campsite. A few fires burned, just enough to give off some light and heat for the men huddled around them. They were too busy laughing and swapping stories to notice a figure lurking about in the shadows.

The figure crept silently through the camp, sticking to the shadows. He peered into every tent, as though he were looking for something. But so far, his search hadn't revealed his objective. When he reached one tent in the middle of the camp, he paused. Could this be the one?

Quickly and quietly, he slipped into the tent. Glancing around, his eyes landed on someone lying down. He crept over, took a breath, and reached out his hand, covering the person's mouth.

The person immediately awoke, eyes shining bright with panic. A scream was muffled, but the man realized that this was not what he was looking for. This was a woman. He dropped his hand.

"Ma'am, are you all right?" He asked in a hushed tone.

She stared at him. "Wh-who are you?"

"My name is Staff Sergeant Toushirou Hitsugaya. I'm with the army. And you are...?" He prodded gently.

"Orihime Kurosaki." She whispered.

He raised an eyebrow. "Kurosaki? You wouldn't happen to be related to Isshin Kurosaki, would you?"

"Um, he's my father-in-law. If it's the same person," she added.

"Why are you here?" Toushirou questioned.

"I was kidnapped. That man – Grimmjow – killed my brother..." her voice broke.

Toushirou hesitated. What should he do? This was a perfect opportunity for him to finally find what he had been searching for. But he couldn't leave Orihime here by herself. So far, she had been lucky that no one had bothered her, but how long would that last? He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Come on. I'm going to get you out of here."

Orihime's eyes widened. "Really?" Tears filled her eyes.

"Yes. But you have to be quiet. If anyone sees us, it will alert the whole camp. I may be good, but I can't take down these outlaws by myself," he stated. Besides, I'm not after the whole camp. Just one person...

Toushirou slipped outside of the tent, gazing around to make sure the coast was clear. Motioning for Orihime to follow, he began to creep back towards the way he had come. Every little noise was magnified for him, and he was always conscious of where the men were. He couldn't let themselves be caught.

"Hey!" A shout broke through the silence. "Where is she? Which one of you good-for-nothings took her?"

Toushirou hissed out a curse, grabbing onto the woman's arm. "Hurry."

Orihime's eyes were wide with fright, and her heart pounded so loudly she feared that the outlaws would hear it. Her legs trembled, but she willed herself to keep moving. This man was being nice in helping her escape. She couldn't risk his life – or hers – by allowing them to be spotted.

Unfortunately, her nervousness only magnified her clumsiness. In her haste to follow Toushirou, she knocked over a box. Everyone's attention turned in their direction.

Toushirou cursed again before pushing her down to the ground and kneeling beside her. "Stay down," he hissed, pulling out a gun from his holster.

"I know you're there," Grimmjow called out. "Just come out and I won't hurt you." Several of the men snorted, but shut up when he glared at them.

Toushirou carefully poked his head up to see the men's positions, but quickly ducked back down when shots rang out.

"I'm sorry," Orihime whispered.

"Don't worry about it," he answered. "Just stay down and don't move." His mind was already working through different scenarios, but none of them ended with the two of them surviving. He only had a set amount of bullets. He would have to use them wisely. Taking in a deep breath, he sat up and shot off a few rounds, then crouched again when they fired back at him.

Orihime's gasp startled him. "There!"

He whirled around and caught sight of a man sneaking around the back. Toushirou fired, and the man slumped to the ground, a bullet lodged in his chest. When he looked back to the front, the men were closer, and he admitted to himself that this was a losing battle. There was only one of him, and at least thirty of them.

Thirty to one wasn't good odds for him. But if he were here, he would definitely be able to defeat them all singlehandedly. He'd heard the stories about how ruthless he was in battle. Unfortunately, he had disappeared off the face of the earth roughly twenty-four years earlier. Until now, at least, Toushirou mused as he remembered what Orihime had said about her father-in-law's name being-

"Hello, Toushirou."

He froze, feeling something metal against the base of his neck. He'd been caught.

"It's been a while, hasn't it? A year, perhaps?"

"One year, two weeks, and one day," Toushirou spat out. He didn't have to look behind him to know who it was. "Sousuke Aizen."

"Ah, I'm impressed. You've been keeping track. May I ask what brings you out here? Did you miss me?"

Toushirou snorted. "Hardly. You should know why I'm here, Aizen. I'm going to kill you."

A dark chuckle escaped the older man's lips. "Not if I kill you first."

Orihime, who had been silently watching the exchange, now covered her ears and screamed as Toushirou spun around, his finger on the trigger. He wasn't fast enough. Aizen shot him first, and blood began to spurt out of Toushirou's stomach. He collapsed to the ground, a hand pressed to his wound.

"I won't kill you, Toushirou. I'll let you suffer," Aizen smiled.

Orihime shuddered and shrank back when he turned his gaze towards her. "So, you're Sora Inoue's sister?" He reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet. "I have no idea what Grimmjow's obsession is with you." He began to steer her back to the camp. "You would do well to listen to him. There's no telling what he might do."

Orihime's thoughts swirled. She had lost her chance to escape. She was going to die here, as was Toushirou, if he wasn't dead already. A sob caught in her throat, and her knees buckled. The last thing she remembered was the ground rushing up to meet her and an arm wrapping around her waist.