things unsaid

She is thrown roughly into the little jail cell and lands on her side. Immediately a cry of pain escapes her mouth, and she draws in a hasty breath. Are they going to kill her?

But no. The arrancar who put her here simply swings the door shut, an ominous clang preceding near-silent footsteps.

The orange-haired girl breaths a sigh of relief as she twists in order to sit up. She will be bruised, but at least she's not dead.

Only five minutes ago she had to heal the blue-haired arrancar's arm. Fatigue overwhelms the girl, and she collapses onto the small, hard bed they've provided for her, settling into the unfamiliar sheets.

They don't smell like anything.

-o-o-o-

"Woman."

The voice startles her into waking up, shaking her dreams roughly by the shoulders and shattering her sleep. "My name is Inoue," she states, trying to be as cold as her captor. The attempt is unsuccessful.

"Say what you like. You are 'woman' to me." Inoue looks, for the first time, really looks at her captor. He is about as tall, if not taller, than Kurosaki-kun. He is much paler - like snow, she notes absentmindedly - and has black, black hair. Like Ishida, thinks Inoue, but longer and spikier. He has green trails running down his cheeks, like some strange tattoos of tears, and piercingly green eyes. Inoue feels a shudder run through her spine, and without knowing it she presses closer to the wall.

The arrancar's mask looks like a half-helmet, but Inoue doesn't want to look at it. It's like a skull. A horrible skull...and she shudders into her sheets.

"My name is Ulquiorra," the arrancar says. "Quarta Espada. I expect the proper respect, especially toward Aizen-sama."

Inoue looks sharply, hatefully (she hopes) up at the espada. "Why would I respect that..." She wants very much to say a dirty word, but Inoue isn't used to dirty words. Thus they won't come out of her mouth. "Man," she finished lamely, anticlimactically.

"He is your lord, as he is mine," Ulquiorra says. "Respect him, or I will be forced to harm you. And believe me, woman" - he looks disdainfully down at Inoue, who wants nothing more than to hide under the covers and never come out - "I do not want to harm you any more than you want to be harmed."

Inoue bites her lip, tries her best to stop tears from rolling down her cheeks. "Who are you?"

Ulquiorra seems to understand that she is not asking his name, per se, but his purpose. "I am your protector. We have many here who would...do more to you than Aizen-sama would like. I am here to take care of you."

Inoue slumps a little. So he's been assigned to her. She'll probably die with him by her side, which is not what she wanted. Kurosaki-kun should've been that one.

"Do not look so excited about it, woman," Ulquiorra says, sarcastic, and Inoue feels another spine-tingling shock. Is he trying to make her feel better?

But then he turns and walks away without another word. Inoue, seeing the door swing closed, begins to cry. She can, now that he's gone.

-o-o-o-

"Aizen-sama requires your presence," says Ulquiorra's voice. Inoue sits up with a start. She doesn't remember falling asleep, nor does she remember changing into these white clothes. She looks at Ulquiorra.

"I took the liberty of giving you some clean clothes," Ulquiorra explains.

He undressed me, Inoue thought with a shudder.

"Woman," Ulquiorra says patiently. "I am not as sordid as some other arrancar. I did not do anything to you, nor did I disrespect your body. I was simply following orders."

Inoue glares at him with a kind of soft hatred; she does not feel capable of really hating this man who, although he works for the wrong side, seems to only have the best of intentions.

"Why does Aizen...san...want me?" Inoue says, ignoring Ulquiorra's remark as best she can, finding the honorific hard to spit out.

"He wishes to test your abilities," Ulquiorra tells her.

Inoue stands up. "Take me there." A sudden wave of bravery hits her, and she closes her eyes and reopens them. Suddenly the world seems brighter.

"Amusing," Ulquiorra mutters. Or at least it's something like that. Inoue can hardly hear his quiet voice.

The door swings open. The blue-haired man steps in with a wicked grin on his face.

Inoue has seen that grin before.

In dark alleyways. On the faces of men who grabbed at her clothes and tried to kiss her or worse before Tatsuki stepped in and kicked their butts.

But Tatsuki isn't here now.

"Mind if I join you, Ulquiorra? Ya can't have all the fun," the espada snickers.

"Fun?" Ulquiorra sounds vaguely perturbed.

"I don't mind threesomes," the espada says, that horrible smile widening.

"Grimmjow," Ulquiorra says. So that's his name, Inoue thinks. "Cease this idiocy and leave."

"What, you not like pussy?" Grimmjow asks, that smile, oh, that awful smile.

Inoue shrinks back into the wall. That's a bad word. A bad word.

"I asked you once," Ulquiorra says, almost remorseful as he steps forward. "You did not obey your superior. And therefore..." he has whipped out his sword and slashed Grimmjow's new arm. It begins bleeding on Inoue's floor. She chokes at the overwhelming scent.

"Bastard," Grimmjow hisses. "Always spoiling the party. Fuck you." He storms off, splattering blood on the wall next to him.

Three bad words, Inoue thinks, eyes widening in innocent horror and naivete.

"I told you I would protect you," Ulquiorra says, releasing Inoue from her deer-in-the-headlights state. "Did you doubt me?"

"Maybe," Inoue says timidly. Seeing him frown a barely-perceptible-bit more, she hastily adds, "But not anymore. Thank you, Ulquiorra-san." The name, with respect and honorific, just flows. She resists the urge to cover her mouth.

The frown changes back to indifference. "It is my job, woman."

Inoue watches him carefully as they go to Aizen for her test. He is not the same person she believed he was, but she's guessing that she won't know exactly who he is for a long time.

-o-o-o-

Most of her days are spent in this cell. She has become used to it now. The cold stone floor, the bloodstains on the wall from that second day, the bed - that now smells vaguely like Inoue's own perfume, which she hasn't seen in weeks or maybe months - and that little wooden chair.

It sits there in the corner, gathering dust, until Ulquiorra becomes perceptive by (maybe) the fourth(ish) week (since Inoue has lost count), and then the chair was dragged over by her bed.

"I have noticed you are becoming less cheerful," Ulquiorra notes with a hint of sadness. "Do you require something?"

"I don't know, human interaction?" Inoue says into her pillow.

"Woman," Ulquiorra commands. "Sit up."

Inoue does so, propping herself up by her elbows. "How can you help me? You're the enemy."

Ulquiorra frowns. "Woman. I do not wish you to think of me as an enemy. I wish you to think of me as a...friend. As you speak to me to correct your lack of social interaction. After you are better once again, then you may think of me as an enemy. If that is your wish."

Inoue winces at the word 'friend'. "What do I talk about?"

"Anything," is the answer.

So Inoue talks about anything, though she's sure he will regret it. No, he probably regrets it already. She smiles at

Ulquiorra, who is cringing ever so slightly as she talks about marshmallow-fluff-and-pickle-and-croissant sandwiches.

That's the first time he talks to her during her 'interaction periods'. "That is disgusting," he informs her.

Inoue shakes her head vehemently. "No! No, it's really good! You should let me cook for everyone here sometime!"

"We do not-"

But Inoue cuts him off, bouncing into a sitting position. "It would be so much fun!"

So Ulquiorra relents. But when Inoue is allowed to make dinner, he is the only one smart enough to carefully make his way to his quarters and eat something (anything!) else than Inoue's cayenne pepper and sardine and fig and clover honey stew.

-o-o-o-

"Ulquiorra-san?" Inoue's voice is awkward. This is something she'd rather be asking Halibel, the female espada. But she has no choice.

"Yes."

She stumbles over the words. "I require...uh...I need some...I need some tampons," she finally blurts out.

Ulquiorra's face goes from confused to understanding to dismayed, though he is so good at disguising his emotions that Inoue might just be making them up in her head. "I feel certain that Halibel will have some," he says distastefully. "Please do not...bleed...on the bed. We do not have many spare sheets." He leaves for a moment.

Inoue stands there on the stone floor. Why in the world did they have to wear white? She internally curses, in her mild 'darn it to heck' sort of way.

Ulquiorra returns with a small box. "Halibel has agreed to donate these to you. She also informed me that I should be extremely nice to you."

"You better be!" Inoue snaps. "Can I have a clean uniform?"

"You would have to take that one off," he tells her.

"Fine, whatever, go get me a new uniform and I'll change!" Inoue stands there, arms crossed. She accepts the small box. Yes, these will do for now, she thinks tiredly, reading the kanji on the side of the box.

"As you wish, woman," Ulquiorra says stiffly. This situation is entirely too awkward for his tastes. He leaves Inoue standing there.

At least he cares about the uniform, Inoue finds herself thinking dryly.

Wait. She does a double-take. When did she start thinking that Ulquiorra cared about her?

-o-o-o-

Inoue finds herself thinking less about her friends at home and more about the espada. She goes to dinners with them now, sometimes eats breakfast. It felt wrong at first, but most of them seem to have good intentions on the wrong side, like Ulquiorra. Most of them, anyway.

Grimmjow and Nnoitra are always hungrier for her chest than they are for the food. Ulquiorra sits next to her, always, but their lecherous stares dissipate her appetite most nights.

"How is Yammy's little puppy?" she enthuses, having fallen in love with the little thing on sight.

"Fine," Ulquiorra says.

"And Halibel's nice Fraccions," Inoue continues. "Like sisters, all of them. Why don't you have Fraccions, Ulquiorra-san? Aren't you lonely?"

Ulquiorra doesn't answer that question.

"Ulquiorra-san?"

"Woman," he says heavily, "I have to go." He gets up and leaves.

Inoue stares after him in shock. Not once has he left in the middle of a conversation. Not like this.

What's going on?

-o-o-o-

Ulquiorra is practically running by the time he gets into his quarters, and he flings the pillows over his head as if it will drown out his terrible thoughts. He should not be doing this. Assign someone else to the position, he can't do it anymore if he's going to feel this way!

He can't quite place it. It's an ache, almost, where his heart might've been once. But no. If this is what Inoue calls 'falling in love', this is not it. He is an espada. Espada do not fall in love. Especially not with humans.

-o-o-o-

Ulquiorra returns the next day, seemingly forgetting about before. He sits down and prepares himself for idle blabber.

"Ulquiorra-san?"

"Yes."

"Did you know you are very pretty?"

Ulquiorra looks up with a start, barely managing to hide the shock on his face. "Excuse me?"

"That is, I mean, handsome," Inoue says, blushing furiously. "You are, you know."

Ulquiorra looks at her oddly. "...thank you, Inoue-san."

There's something about that sentence that strikes Inoue as momentous. She thinks. Oh! Oh, my! He...for the first time, Ulquiorra didn't call her woman. She smiles at this small triumph. "Ulquiorra-san?"

Ulquiorra shivers a little bit. "Yes."

"Thank you," Inoue says.

"For what?"

"Being here," Inoue says shyly. "I know you were following orders, but you've done more than you can know. Thank you."

Ulquiorra cannot resist the urge, and so he doesn't, reaching out to Inoue with a pale hand and brushing a lock of hair away from her face. She stares at him with obvious amazement and surprise; he withdraws the hand and looks down. "You are welcome."

It is a long time before either of them remembers how to speak.

-o-o-o-

Inoue watches the two men she loves most fighting to the death. Of course, Kurosaki-kun has become a Hollow. Surely he is no longer really himself. But she finds herself watching Ulquiorra, not Kurosaki-kun. Staring at Ulquiorra, who is being beaten.

She hardly knows what's happening as Ulquiorra begins to disappear, to die, as she rushes to him, screaming wordlessly.

He reaches out to her, fading into the blackness, and she stares at him, pain in her eyes as she tries deperately to memorize his features before he's completely gone.

That hand, that pale hand. Things unsaid flash through Inoue's head, things she knows he wants to say but never could, and she reaches back.

Things unsaid must be assumed.

And as Ulquiorra disappears, she knows they are rightly assumed from the look in his eyes.

A/N: Ulquiorra...why'd you have to die? *cries* I know I usually call her Orihime, but Inoue seemed to fit better. If you liked, reviews are loved as always! ~Nanao-chan