A simple one shot that was inspired by the essay (Ulquihime: Why she didn't save him) that Rip Van Winkle recently posted in her account in Deviant art. This is my interpretation of Orihime's reaction to Ulquiorra's return, based on the logic and explanation Rip gave in her essay. I have asked her and used her essay as the base for this one-shot. The time line is roughly two years after Hueco Mundo. Since I don't follow Bleach any longer, I have no knowledge about the Fullbringer arc and hence I have skirted clear from them. However I know that Rukia had been absent for 17 months and that has been incorporated in the story. It's said entirely from Orihime's POV. The italics is her inner monologue and the normal font is in real time. The italics+bold is a cannon quote.

News on other updates: I have been a little tied up and hence have not had the time to work on I see you and Trust to hope. I intend to start my work again from tomorrow. As of now, Flying high has been discontinued.

As usual read and review. (This work has not been beta'd)

Bleach is Tite Kubo's

His return

What is love? In the solitary hours of night, when I am truly alone, I have dared to ask myself that question. Two years ago, I would have answered that question without blinking. Love for me was tall, orange haired, brown eyed, muscular and a shinigami. Although I always knew my love was going to be unrequited, but that never stopped me. After all when I fell in love with him, I never expected him to love me back. Love doesn't work that way, love is an emotion that comes from deep within. You either feel it or you don't. There is no halfway in love. For me it was a foregone conclusion, so sure was I in my love for him that I had pledged myself to him for five life times. Even today I can hear those words that I said to him when he was sleeping.

Oohhh, I wish I could live life five times over. Then I'd be born in five different places and I'd stuff myself with different food from around the world…I'd live five different lives with five different occupations…and then, for those five times…I'd fall in love with the same person…

Then why, I ask myself over and over again, have I not confessed my love to him? Is it because of Kuchiki San? There has never been any doubt in my mind that Kuchiki San holds a special place in his heart, a place that I can only dream of holding, but does he love her? I don't know. Kuchiki San had been absent for a long time and if it was because of her that I was holding back, then these long months in which she was gone, I would have confessed my feelings for him. But I did not and now Kuchiki San is back and I am watching them from the sidelines, yet again. Does this bother me? Yes, it does, but not as much as I would expect it to. In the loneliness of endless nights, I ask myself why does it not bother me more? After all, I had cried my heart out to Rangiku San about it. So why didn't I take the opportunity when it presented itself? What am I looking for?

Sometimes in the deepest and darkest hours of the nights, an answer presents itself in the form of a hollow that had green eyes, white skin and black hair. An answer that terrifies me so much that I shut it down. I keep telling myself that it is not possible; it just cannot be possible. It is a place where I am not supposed to go. How can I? Just the mere thought of it is tantamount to betrayal. He was the enemy. He was nothing but my abductor, my tormentor, my jailor. He was a hollow. He was the anti-thesis of everything I have believed in all my life. He questioned my every move, my every emotion, ridiculed my beliefs, and mocked my bonds. And yet, in those last minutes, he reached out to me and I reached back.

But I did that because I did not want him to die alone. It's not fair that someone should die alone, even if the said someone was a monster- like him. That was the only reason I reached out to him. I know it. I know that was it, damnit! Then why, why is it that his questions come to haunt me in my most unguarded moments? Why is it that when I ask myself 'why did I not tell Kurosaki Kun how I feel', I can hear him asking me about heart? Why is it that sometimes when I dream about the time when I reached out for him and got a handful of ashes in return, I wake up to a wet pillow?

I hate Ulquiorra. I hate him from the bottom of my heart. I hate him for everything he did to me. He kidnapped me, tormented me and killed Kurosaki Kun twice (once in front of my eyes). I could have brought him back if I wanted to; Hachigen San trained me enough for that. But I did not. Why should I bring someone back who would only cause more problems? I didn't want him to come back then; I don't want him to come back now. But then, why did I cry when he faded away? Why did I feel that something important had slipped away? Why do I still feel that I am missing something that is integral to my existence?

I love Kurosaki Kun. I always have and I always will- for five lifetimes. The words of a long dead hollow should not make me doubt my own heart. My heart knows where it belongs and it belongs to Kurosaki Kun. Ulquiorra knew nothing about bonds, he had no idea what being a human meant to be, so his questions, his probes, and his logic; they were all meaningless. I love Kurosaki Kun, period. I laugh when he's happy, I cry when he's sad. He's all that matters to me. Kurosaki Kun, he's everything for me. Ulquiorra is a past I am glad to leave behind me. He belongs to a past that I do not want to relive. I should not let his cynicism and nihilistic world view affect me. It's been a long time since then, almost two years, those words should not matter to me anymore. Ulquiorra was a being who didn't have a heart. A cold, heartless creature like him belongs in nightmares and that's where I want him to stay. It does not matter that sometimes I catch myself sketching those haunting eyes. It's a masochistic side of me that makes me draw them for a sick, morbid fascination. Its Kurosaki Kun to whom I belong, I do not doubt that at all. Ulquiorra Schiffer be damned!

My feet are killing me. I got some new shoes the other day; they were on sale and were so pretty. But now, having spent the entire day on my feet and in them, I have developed painful blisters. It will be very easy for me to reject those blisters, will hardly take a few seconds, but I couldn't do that in the bakery. It will lead to some very awkward questions, should anyone see me doing this. Two years ago, I probably would have excused myself for some time, hidden myself in the restroom, rejected those blisters and be done with it, but yet again I show my masochistic side and refuse to reject it. Instead I smile through the pain and go on with the day as if nothing is wrong. I have to wait for the shift to be over so that I can go home and soak my tired feet into hot water. Finally it is that time when I cannot put off going home any longer. I have to leave now and go back to my empty apartment, which meant going in circles again. But today I probably won't have to think so much, my feet are giving me hell and that should provide a good enough distraction.

When I step out I see that it is dark. I walk towards my home, wincing as the pain in my feet shoots up with every step but I am thankful too because they are keeping my thoughts at bay. Once or twice I feel like I am being followed, but when I turn around, I see no one. I have been accused of an overactive imagination more than once, so I do not think much of it. Halfway to my home I decide that I cannot go on any further in these shoes. Using the lamppost as my support, I take those painful Chinese torture devices off my feet and examine them by the flickering light. It hurts my eyes just to try and focus. Trust me to pick the one lamppost whose light bulb is about to die out. I briefly massage my sore feet one after the other, pick those shoes up and push myself off the lamppost when I hear the voice.

"You still make no sense."

I turn around sharply to find him leaning against an electric pole, his hands shoved into his pockets. I immediately notice a few differences. No horn helmet, no tear marks and he's dressed like a human, in dark blue jeans, white shirt and black trench coat. He must have noticed my eyes taking in the difference because speaks up again.

"I am in a gigai."

I nod slightly, my mind completely blank. I put my bag and shoes down on the pavement very slowly. I can feel his eyes following my movement. Slowly and deliberately I walk up to him, keeping my eyes trained on him. Seeing me approach, he pushes himself off the pole and stands up straight, facing me. He's not much taller than me. Once I reach near him, I stop and huff. I do not know what made me do it but it sure brought a sense of de'ja vu. I lift my right hand, pull it back and as hard as I could I bring it down on his cheek. Thank God for the gigai, my hand didn't feel like my fingers were breaking, like it had felt when I had slapped him the last time. He must have seen it coming, I know he did, but he didn't move an inch. His eyes have closed and his face has turned sideways on the impact, but otherwise he remains as expressionless as ever. He turns his head and looks at me, his eyes boring into mine.

"Why?" I ask him, breathing heavily.

"Why, what?"

"Why did you come back?" I ask aware of how shrill my voice sounds.

"I did not come to abduct you, if that's what you are asking."

"No, of course not," I said, breathing heavily, "Aizen Sama does not need me now, does he?"

"Onna…"

"Don't!" I interrupt, screaming. "You don't get to say a word. You made me listen to all your cruel words back in Hueco Mundo, but now, out here, in my world I will speak and you will listen."

He continues to look at me in silence.

"How dare you? How dare you come back and behave as though nothing is wrong? D- D- Do you have any idea what…" I choke up, unable to continue. I clutch my hair in my fists, willing myself to think. A part of mind tells me that my cell phone is ringing in my bag but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters right now except the man…no the arrancar standing here, his hands in his trench coat's pockets, looking at me almost unblinkingly.

"How? How is it possible? How can you come back?" I ask finally, hating how shaky my voice sounds.

"I don't know. All I remember is waking up in Hueco Mundo, ravenous. I don't know how many hollows I devoured before I could finally have some kind of thought process. It took me some time to be strong enough to open a garganta."

"And the gigai? You just waltzed into Urahara shop and he gave you a gigai? Just like that?" I say snapping my fingers.

"No. I had to hand over my Zampukto to him before he was even willing to consider my request."

I pinch the bridge of my nose; close my eyes and whisper "Why did you come back Ulquiorra? Why now?"

"I needed to talk to you."

"There is nothing I want to talk to you about Ulquiorra. You cannot just come here and say that you have to talk. It doesn't work that way. I do not want to talk to you, do you understand that? I do not want to talk to you."

In a low, steady voice he asks, "Then why are you still standing here? Why didn't you leave after you slapped me?"

He got me there. I know he got me. No matter how angry I am at the moment, seeing him standing in front of me is strangely liberating. I don't have an answer to his question. I turn my back to him and limp over to my shoes and bag, the pain in my feet no longer enough to distract me from the person standing behind me.

"Why haven't you used your Rikka on your feet?" He asks.

"None of your business." My tone is not nearly as harsh as I wanted it to be. I bend down to pick my bag and shoes but instead I flop myself down on the pavement, holding my head in my hands.

I sense him coming closer and sitting down next to me in one fluid motion. Ulquiorra is nothing if not graceful.

"Do you want me gone, Onna?" He asks me in a hushed voice.

Before I know what I am doing, I shake my head negatively. We sit in silence for some time. I notice the occasional passersby give us a strange look. Normally I would be very flustered, but now I find that I do not care. I realize we must look out of place, a young couple, the girl dressed in the bakery uniform and the guy dressed in casuals, sitting on the pavement next to a pair of shoes and a bag, under a flickering lamppost.

"Do you have any idea how I have spent this time?" I ask him, my eyes fixed on a crumpled piece of chocolate wrapper lying on the street.

"I understand being abducted is a big trauma. I know humans often have to take professional help for something like that. I apologize for…"

"You think it was tough for me because I was abducted?" I cut him half way through his apology. I do not want him apologizing for the wrong thing. If he is going to give me an apology, it's better that he apologizes for the right thing.

"Was it not?" He asks his eyes on my blistered feet.

"Ulquiorra, I know you were acting on Aizen's order. Mostly I blame Aizen for my abduction, although I do not deny that you share part of the blame but that is not what caused me the most pain."

He finally takes his eyes off my feet and looks at my face, "If not that, then what?"

"You." I whisper, the chocolate wrapper still holding my attention.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Normally I am a very forgiving person, but somehow I do not have it in me to forgive you for what you did. You made me question everything I held dear in my life. You asked me questions that made me rethink everything. You have shaken the foundation of my existence. How do I forgive that, Ulquiorra? I have not been able to tell Kurosaki Kun how I feel about him and you are responsible for it."

He remains silent, much to my chagrin.

"Well?" I goad him.

"I don't know what to say. I made you question your beliefs? That thought is preposterous to me. If anything, you were the one that shook my beliefs. You made me believe in the intangible. You made me feel, you showed me what a heart is to the point that I reached out for it. You made me reach out for you as I breathed my dying breaths. You gave me all that and now I don't know what to do with it. I came to you with the hope that you would know what I should do with this unwanted gift that you have given me? Now you tell me that I made you question your beliefs? What am I supposed to say to that?"

I finally tear my eyes off the wrapper and look at his face, "Unwanted gift? You learned to care for someone and you call it unwanted?"

"It is unwanted. What's the point of feeling something like this when it is clearly not reciprocated? I'd rather go back to feeling nothing, but I don't know how."

"Oh, I see your dilemma." I reply caustically "Unfortunately there is no switch for the heart that you can turn off in your convenience. If that was the case I would have flipped the switch off long ago."

"Because Kurosaki doesn't return your affections?"

The answer is on the tip of my tongue, and yet I cannot say it. Is that the only reason why I want the switch off? Can I honestly tell myself that it has nothing whatsoever to do with the arrancar sitting next to me?

"I don't know." I reply honestly. "You shouldn't have come back Ulquiorra. If closure is what you are looking for, I cannot give it to you. I don't know myself what I think and what I want."

"Can you answer just one question?" He asks in his flat monotone. However I detect a hint of earnestness in his tone.

"I will try."

"Why did you reach back?"

It is the one question I had been hoping he will not ask. But because the universe hates me at this point, it has to be the one question he wants an answer to.

"I don't know Ulquiorra. I really don't know. I like to think that it's because I didn't want you to die alone but you know, I…I think I am trying to convince myself. I don't think pity or sympathy quite sums up the reason I reached back. I would have brought you back if I was feeling sorry for you…I think."

I say more than I intend to, but to me, I don't really answer his question. However, he seems to understand more than I do myself because he nods.

"I am thankful that you were honest with me. Although it's not quite the closure I was hoping for, I am satisfied, so thank you. I will not impose my company upon you anymore. Have a good night. You will not see me again." Saying so, he gets up to leave.

"Where are you going?" I ask hastily.

"To Hueco Mundo, where else?"

"Why?"

"Why not?" He asks looking down at me curiously.

"I…Will you…Will you mind terribly if I ask you to stay a little longer?"

His brows knit in a confused frown, "You made it abundantly clear that you didn't appreciate me coming back and that I am unwelcome. Now you want me to stay a little longer? It doesn't make any sense."

I laugh, despite myself, "Yes, I have heard that before. I know I can be a little unpredictable."

Saying so I pull my feet closer to stand up when his pale hand comes into my vision. He is offering me a hand to stand up. Without thinking I take it and pull myself up. However, once I stand up, I am unwilling to let go of his hand. He looks at our joined hands for a few moments then looks at me but makes no attempt of trying to pull his hand back.

"Can you walk me to my house?" I ask him, suddenly feeling strangely shy.

He nods wordlessly. With one of my hands still clasping his, I pick my bag and shoes with the other and start walking but he doesn't move an inch. I turn to look at him and he is staring at my feet.

"You have blisters in your feet and clearly they hurt you. Use your Rikka."

"No. I don't want to." I reply firmly.

"Why not?"

"Drop it will you?" My tone is much softer than I expect it to be.

"No. You are hurt. Reject it."

For some reason the way he says it puts in my mind the image of a toddler on the verge of starting a tantrum. I laugh, which I instantly realize is not the smartest thing to do. You don't laugh at Ulquiorra Schiffer, not if you value your life. For a fleeting second I am scared.

"I fail to see what is so amusing."

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. It's just that, you sounded… Forget it, let's go."

"No. I am not moving an inch till you heal your feet."

"Look, I don't like to use the Shun Shun Rikka on myself. Why are you insisting on it?"

"Because you are hurt and I don't like it." He sounds gruff, as though it angers him to say that.

But for some reason I am touched. His concern for me is refreshing. Anyone else and I would have gotten a lecture on how I shouldn't have worn those shoes and how I should be more careful in selecting the shoes blah blah blah. In short, anyone else would have tried to be a parent to me. He did not and that is a welcome change. That is an aspect of Ulquiorra that I have always liked. Despite the fact that I am considerably weaker than him, he has never made me feel inferior. Not even when he called me 'trash', simply because he considers all humans as trash.

"Alright, just make sure no one sees." I reply with a smile as my hairpins spring to life.

Few seconds later my feet are blister free and therefore pain free. I am about to drop my shoes on the ground to wear them when he grabs hold of my hand. I briefly realize that he now held both my hands in his, but surprisingly I find that I don't mind.

"You'll hurt your feet again if you wear them and somehow I don't think you will use your Rikka again once I drop you off. So, I suggest you walk barefoot."

I grin sheepishly as I free one of my hands and pick my shoes up. This time when I start walking, he accompanies without complain. We walk in complete silence. For some reason I enjoy the silence and the slight warmth emanating from his hand where it joins mine. For the first time since coming back from Hueco Mundo I experience a peace that I have yearned for but never really found. For once I am not thinking about anything except how relaxing it is to walk like this. I had never really noticed just how tranquil it was around my apartment or how beautiful the night sky looks with the smattering of stars. I let the peaceful surroundings and his warmth encompass me and forget everything else that has plagued me for the past two years. So engrossed am I in this new found feeling that I don't even notice when I have reached my apartment.

"Onna," he says gently, breaking my trance, "your house is here."

I look around, startled.

"I have walked you to your house, as you desired. Now I must ask your leave. I told the Shinigami that I would return the gigai within a couple of hours so I really should leave."

He tugs his hand gently and I let it go, instantly feeling a loss.

"This is goodbye, Orihime Inoue. Have a good life." He says in a strange voice. For some reason it reminds me of that time on the top of the dome when he asked me if I am afraid.

"Goodbye?" I whisper, unable to control the solitary tear that escapes from my eye.

He looks at that tear with a frown, huffs, shoves his hand firmly into his pocket and nods. Without another word he turns around and starts walking away. I expect him to use sonido, but then I remember that he is in a gigai and therefore he has to walk at a normal pace and I stand there, watching his retreating back. As he moves further and further away, the feeling of emptiness returns. I am once again plagued by the emotions I felt when he had faded away. Once again I feel that something important is slipping away. Something that is integral to my existence is going away from me. And then it clicks. The answer that I have known all along, but have been too scared to admit to myself, the one line answer to all my problems, the reason I have been in misery the last two years- I love him. It was as simple and straight forward as that. Not Ichigo Kurosaki, but Ulquiorra Schiffer.

Without thinking I run. I put on all my energy into the sprint because now it is a matter of life and death. I reach him and without thinking I hug him from behind and bury my face into his back.

"Don't go Ulquiorra, please don't. Not again."

"What do you want from me?" He asks, his voice shaking slightly.

"I want you to stay. That's all. I don't want you to go." I realize that the unshed tears are finally out.

"Why? How could that possibly help you?" He says, not looking at me but not breaking my embrace either.

"You asked me why I reached back, I couldn't give you the answer back then, but I can tell you now. I can also tell you what is it that you can do with the heart that you have found."

"And what would that be?"

"You didn't know what to do with your heart because your feelings were unrequited." I wipe my tears and continue, "But that's the point you see, I reached out for you because your feelings aren't unrequited."

I sense his whole body go rigid and I am scared that somehow I have offended him. He then gently pries my hands off himself and turns around to face me.

"You are placing too big a responsibility on me, Onna. I don't know if I can handle it. What if I end up hurting you?" He asks, his emerald eyes staring right into mine.

"The mere fact that you are worried about it proves that I my faith is absolutely right." I smile at him through my tears.

He gently wipes my tears off and asks, "What will you have me do?"

"Stay here, with me." I reply, finally sure of what I want.

Without another word he pulls me into his embrace, giving me the peace I have craved for most of my life.