Story Title: A Soldier's Honor

Pairing: Grimmjow/Orihime (GrimmHime)

Summary (extended): The war is over. Aizen has won. Lives have been lost, but the fight is not over. Inoue is back in Hueco Mundo, being used for her healing abilities. Grimmjow has a secret that she should know. When things are this miserable, it can bring people together. But will she remember him when she wakes up?

Disclaimer:I don't own Bleach or any of its characters, or plot. I just own my devious imagination!

Individual chapter rating: PG-13 for mild gore and mildly intense scenes

A/N: God, I'm so happy I decided to try and write this. I'm so excited! GrimmHime fans out there, get ready for a story you won't forget. I'm expecting quite a few chapters with this story, as it has a complicated storyline. And, for once in my life, I'm going to post the first chapter without being done with the story. Hopefully I can keep up and not fall behind with updating you guys. R&R! Enjoy.

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A Soldier's Honor

Written by Illuminate the Shadows

Beta'd by Innocent Sinner in Hell

Chapter One

Word Count: 2,045

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It reminded me of an asylum room - where I was required to stay. The white walls were barren; devoid of any cracks or blemishes. I spent endless hours searching for any flaws. There were none. There were also no windows. It wasn't that the world outside was particularly interesting; it was the overall point. The lights overhead were an off-white colour, and provided enough light to see the outline of every object in the room.

The door to the equally bland halls did not particularly catch my interest. It opened three times a day; the first for breakfast, the second for a blue-haired Arrancar to check in on me, and the third for dinner. The only exception was every two days. On those days, I watched the door with as much anticipation as my weakened being could muster. It was a chance to see outside of my little solitary confinement.

The food here was tasteless, yet confusingly appealing to the eye. Since arriving here, my appetite had dwindled, leaving my body slightly gaunt. My heart and soul were as bland as everything around me. I blended in.

My Ichigo was dead. Well, perhaps he'd never technically been my Ichigo. But I had always considered him as such. Everyone knew it.

The toilet that I used was located in the same room I spent my time. It wasn't foreign to me though; the room I'd staying in during my previous capture had been similar, if not a bit smaller. This time, I had no Kurosaki to rescue me.

'Aizen-sama always gets his way.'

I had always been an optimistic person. Cheerful. I was the one who still pointed out the positive things when everything was ruined. But now, my spirit was broken. No chance of escape. My friends were all dead. The Arrancar had won. And I was confined to this room, becoming as lifeless as Hueco Mundo itself. I was being brain-washed to act like any other mindless hollow here. 'He wants me to lose hope. That's his goal.' It was hard to stay alive spiritually when no one cared if you lived or died. Hugging my knees closer to my chest, I closed my eyes in defeat.

'His plan is working.'

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It was what I had labeled early afternoon. I was still picking at the breakfast a lowly servant had delivered awhile ago. Staring absentmindedly at the wall, my thoughts drifted here and there.

A sudden noise startled me. Raising dull eyes, I stared in utter confusion at the door. It was opening. 'That's absurd. It can't be opening. It's not time for it to open.' Despite my objection at this abnormal occurrence, the door swung open to reveal a familiar man. There were no excuses in his hands to explain why he was standing in the doorway.

Out of all the cold, indifferent Arrancar here, I felt the closest to Grimmjow. He was rude, bloodthirsty, and overly sarcastic, but I saw him most often. The Espada weren't supposed to have emotions, but I saw anger and satisfaction in his actions. Perhaps that's why I felt some sort of attachment to him; he was the closest to human I would find here.

The tall man stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Watching curiously, I couldn't help but notice his muscled chest. As much as I didn't want to face it the emotion I felt when I looked at him, I knew exactly what it was. Physical attraction. He was as sleek and muscular as bodies go, I suppose. Besides the hole in his pronounced abdominals, he was outwardly flawless.

His sky blue eyes were tired; he must have recently returned from training new recruits, because he seemed more fed up than usual. 'Sparring with reckless hollows all day and not a scratch on him.' He surveyed me. "Aizen wants to speak with you."

'Not Aizen-sama. He never calls him the proper name unless he's speaking directly to his face.' Setting my plate down on my cot, I avoided his eyes. "Why?"

"No questions, Orihime. Get dressed." His tone held more exhaustion than authority as he tossed robes at me that seemingly appeared out of thin air. Catching them, I watched as he turned around, facing the door. A slight blush formed on my cheeks as I realized he wasn't leaving.

"Right now?"

Losing what little patience he did have, his voice elevated to an irritable shout.

"Yes, now! Be thankful I'm givin' you any privacy, woman!"

Although I was used to such treatment here, I winced at the suddenly harsh tone. Obediently taking my sleeping clothes off, I slipped into the white robes quickly. My eyes flickered to him repeatedly, though he remained facing the opposite way.

"Done?"

Adjusting the collar of the white robe, I had to force my answer out of my throat. "Yes." 'These are Espada robes…'

The corridors I followed him down were as unfamiliar as ever. Absolutely clueless as to how he knew where we were going, I decided it was wise not to ask him about the robes. 'I'm meeting Aizen. I guess he'll tell me why I'm wearing these.'

It was quite a shock when I first laid eyes on the merciless ruler. The entire right side of his body was burnt beyond natural recovery. His remaining brown eye was as menacing as ever. 'The war wasn't kind to him, I guess. Is this why he brought me here?'

"Inoue." Sauntering around the white table, he approached us. Gazing over my head at Grimmjow, he addressed the Espada. "Thank you, Grimmjow. You may go now."

There was a pause, and then Grimmjow replied bluntly, "I'd like to stay."

Aizen's mouth stretched into a strange smile at the defiance, and then he turned his back on us. "Have a seat." When I didn't move an inch, I felt Grimmjow nudge me forward with his knuckles. Edging towards the center of the room, I settled myself in a chair.

Worrying my bottom lip and twisting the plastic ring on my middle finger, I watched Aizen turn to face us.

"Inoue Orihime." The man's smirk never faded. "I'm sure you're wondering why I've brought you back to Hueco Mundo."

Realizing he was waiting for a response, I licked my dry lips. "Yes, Aizen-sama." My voice was small.

"This war had been won. But it will not be the last. Healing abilities like yours would become quite useful…" His eye drifted to Grimmjow. "Of course, your docile cooperation is essential."

"So is my assistance."

Aizen stared at the blue-haired man. "Yes, Grimmjow knows the most about the Living. The Szayels aren't too familiar with your needs."

"Szayels?" I questioned, emphasis on the extra 's'.

Aizen smiled knowingly. "We cloned our talented scientist, twice. All three of them will attempt to harness your powers and perhaps duplicate them." He paused. "You will begin your first session with them tomorrow morning."

Having no other options, I bowed my head. "Yes, Aizen-sama."

Grimmjow stood, obviously bored with the conversation. "I'll deal with escorting her there and back."

Aizen nodded. "Yes. And oversee the sessions." He locked that unsettling brown gaze on me fondly. "I don't want her damaged."

Stealing a glance at Grimmjow, I found he appeared equally disturbed. "Can we go now?" Aizen's face dropped to a look of disapproval.

"You are dismissed."

Standing, my skin crawled with relief as I moved to the door, aware of the less frightening presence behind me. Shielded from Aizen's view by Grimmjow's body, I found I had the strength to reach for the doorknob and open the door.

Treading down the corridor, I walked beside him instead of behind. 'They brought me back to use my healing ability. How surprising.'

Suddenly, I saw Grimmjow move out of the corner of my eye. My body was turned and my back against the wall. The impact emitted a little 'oof' from my lips, and I grabbed his wrists, trying to remove his large hands from my shoulders so I could escape the vice-like grip and the proximity.

"Listen to me!" he growled, pushing me harder against the solid surface. Fearing for my safety, I ceased my struggling and started at him with wide eyes. His aquamarine gaze was even more brilliant up close.

"Listen," he repeated, loosening his grip at the possibility of recognizing my discomfort. His face was close to mine as he spoke in a rushed whisper. "I know you don't wanna be here anymore than I do. So you stick by me. If you wanna survive, or maybe even get outta here, I'm the only one you can trust."

Swallowing, I spoke in a breathy whisper. "Why would you help me?"

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed as he pulled back a few inches. He seemed to contemplate my question for a few moments. Then he spoke, his voice still soft. "This isn't the place." His gaze lingered on my for perhaps a second too long before his hands left my shoulders. He continued down the hall as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Not sure what to make of my jumbled mind, I followed, trailing a few steps behind him.

'Now I matter. Now, someone cares if I live or die.'

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"Inoue!"

One of the Szayels rushed forward to hug me. Awkwardly, I allowed it, my nose filled with the scent of chemicals. "I've been so eager to meet you!" His grin was unbelievably huge, and slightly disturbing.

Curiously, I swept my gaze over the other two. One looked incredibly irritable, and the other, whom I believed to be the real Szayel, appeared indifferent.

"I'm Szayel B," the cheerful one offered. "But you can just call me B. That's C." He pointed to the angry one. 'Which leaves…'

"And I'm just Szayel. The original." The pink-haired Espada examined me. "You haven't changed much, Orihime."

"Let's get started, shall we?" B giggled, taking my arm. I glanced back at the blue-haired Espada, pleading for some sort of reassurance. He stood by the door, seemingly looking in my direction. But if he noticed me, he gave no indication. His blank expression never changed.

"Today we'll just observe. We have injured here," Szayel murmured, gesturing toward hollows I hadn't taken notice of. "Get to it."

Approaching them, I winced at the scent of blood. There were nine that I counted; some with severe injuries and others only sustaining cuts and bruised egos. 'These must be the warriors who were involved with training exercises.' I blinked. 'Some of these wounds were probably inflicted by Grimmjow.' I figured it was better to start with the worse while I was at my strongest. I kneeled beside a thin green-haired man. His entire leg was gone, and his face bleeding badly.

"I reject," I whispered, holding my palms to the edge of the yellow sphere. The man's gashes sealed, and his leg was returned to him. His hazel eyes met mine as I finished, and he nodded thanks.

This continued for two hours until only one woman remained. Her wounds were not severe, but in my weakened state, my body sagged with weariness. Pushed to my limit, my fragile hands shook as I struggled to maintain the orb.

Large, rough hands came over mine, steadying them. The woman's wounds were healed, and my eyelids drooped as I became somewhat unaware of my surroundings.

"She's had enough," I heard Grimmjow say. One of the Szayels whined a protest, but it didn't register. Their voices were gone, and I felt movement. I was in strong arms, a scent drifting into my nose that I had come to know was Grimmjow's. My mind swam, and my heart seemed to beat too quickly; too loudly. It overcame every sound.

A muffled voice. Time passed. Gradually, my senses returned. The voice came again. Still stifled, but my mind processed that it was my name being said.

"Orihime?"

It was Grimmjow. Unable to move any limbs, I tried to speak, but my voice failed, leaving my lips to move silently. It was enough for him, because I felt his body remain close, arms securing me.

"Rest."

Completely happy to oblige, I allowed my mind to sink into the lingering darkness.