What Really Matters

It came out of nowhere and in the most unexpected way. Ulquiorra wasn't one that rifled through the belongings of others. He was not nosy, and he did not pry into things that had nothing to do with him. But Orihime did have something to do with him, which was why he found it absolutely permissible to read the folded paper she'd so hastily stuffed in her coat pocket yesterday afternoon.

She was hiding something from him, and his curiosity to find out what left little room for dignity in such a situation. Although surprising to most, they had a very close relationship and secrecy had never been an issue between them. Not until now.

Emerald eyes once more scanned the note—no, not just a note. A love letter from a secret admirer, telling of how he's always watched her from afar, admiring her divine beauty and the way in which she could make even the most miserable person smile. How seeing her was the highlight of his day, and every night he hoped she'd appear in his dreams. It was all embarrassingly poetic; an obviously desperate effort to impress and woo her. All it was doing for Ulquiorra, however, was making him borderline sickened and exceedingly annoyed. But what was irritating him the most was the very last line: I know that you aren't currently seeing anyone, which is why I'd like to take this chance to confess. Please meet me behind the gym Friday morning before the first bell.

He wasn't sure who was at fault in this situation. It was true that he did not attend school with her, but somehow he'd expected that Orihime would've at least let slip to some of her classmates that he existed and was a very significant presence in her life. Perhaps the confusion may've come from the fact that their relationship had never been defined—boyfriend, girlfriend, lovers—and so she wasn't sure how to explain to others what he was to her. But one thing was certain, at least to him, and it was that Orihime was definitely not available to be seeing anyone. Unfortunately that message seemed to have failed reaching the male students attending her high school.

Normally in such a situation, whenever he had any sort of issue with Orihime, he'd waste no time to confront her. But somehow this was different. There was a reason she hid this letter away from him, and not knowing what that reason was made Ulquiorra's chest feel strangely heavy.

In a reversed scenario, had it been him that received such a letter, it would've instantly become an unread ball of crumpled trash. A waste of his time. Insignificant nonsense. But he was positive that no one was foolish enough to even think he'd be accepting of another's advances. He'd make absolutely sure of that.

Obviously, Orihime was not making that same effort.

And so when Friday morning came and the alarm clock went off, Ulquiorra made sure not to fall back asleep. Instead he watched Orihime quietly disentangle herself from his arms and slip out of bed. He listened to the shower turn on, and watched the door until she emerged with a fluffy white towel covering her wet hair. And in only her underwear, she went to the closet and pulled out a clean school uniform to change into, unaware of the green eyes surveying her every move.

Her movements were no different than usual. She seemed calm, and when she turned around to finish buttoning her blouse, there was a small smile on her face. And then her eyes rose to his. The shadow of a blush, a flush of momentary surprise, and then she was beaming happily. "I didn't know you were up!" Her joy not waning in the slightest, she practically skipped her way over to her dresser to pull out a pair of white socks. A little excitedly, she plopped down on the bed beside him and he watched as she pulled each of the socks just above her knees.

Ulquiorra's attention fell to her smooth thighs, exposed and absolutely captivating. Her skirt seemed too short, and her socks much too high. The sight was a tease.

"Ah!" She exclaimed, and her fingers flew to a button that had popped itself from its fastening, right in the area where her shirt stretched much too tightly around her chest.

So this was how she would appear before her admirer today.

"It does not fit you, onna," he bluntly stated as she fruitlessly tried to force the button back into place.

With a huff, she finally was able to drive it back through the hole. Giving him a short smirk of triumph, she glanced at the clock and a flicker of panic flashed across her face. "Oh no, I've got to get going," she mumbled, getting up and glancing around the room. "Um, have you seen my coat, Ulquiorra?"

The heaviness that'd been weighing inside his chest since he'd discovered the note suddenly seemed to double at the sight of her eagerness to leave.

"There's something important I left in the pocket." Once more it seemed as if she were speaking only to herself.

Important. So the letter meant something to her. Removing himself from the bed, it took a tremendous amount of effort for Ulquiorra not to question her about the note. "It's in the living room." Somehow it seemed he was still waiting for her to tell him herself where she was really going. That she was planning on meeting a boy whose intention was to steal her away.

It appeared that he was holding onto that hope up until the point in which she stood before him at the front door with her school bag on one shoulder and her coat folded over her arm, the love letter still tucked safely in it's pocket.

"I'll see you when I'm back."

It was beginning to annoy him how honestly she was smiling at him when she was about to meet a boy in secrecy. When she leaned up to softly kiss him goodbye, she pulled back with a shy blush. "Bye, Ulquiorra."

The front door closed gently, and in a strange daze of disbelief, he stared at it.

She was going to meet a boy. A real human boy. One whose voice probably shook with emotions that he wasn't strong enough to control. Whose face most likely betrayed every thought running across his mind. A boy that she had more in common with, who knew of places to take her, of things to see, who had a family and friends she'd be able to meet. A boy who could offer her a normal life. He wasn't a shinigami or a substitute shinigami, not a Quincy, a hollow, or a being within a Gigai. He was real and from her world, and suddenly Ulquiorra had never felt more vulnerable.

Perhaps her reason for going was because she was curious. Maybe she wanted to know what it was like to be with someone who could be so open around her. Someone that was easy to read, to speak to. Someone that smiled back at her, and laughed with her. Perhaps she wanted to know what it was like to be with someone that was nothing like—

The front door opened, and in poked Orihime's head. "Ulqui—oh, you're still here!" Surprised chocolate eyes stared up at him. Stepping inside, she neared him and quickly preoccupied her gaze with the carpet.

He wondered if this was the moment. If after leaving the apartment she suddenly became overwhelmed with a harrowing sense of guilt that had her turning back to confess everything to him. As she stood before him now, biting into her lip nervously, struggling to find the words, he found himself slowing his breathing as if it would help to better hear her.

"I was wondering if you'd walk me to school today?" She asked in a jumbled rush of words.

This was not what he'd been expecting to hear, and so he was momentarily caught off guard. It was the first time she'd ever asked him to do this. "Why?"

"Well, I um…I want to talk to you."

Normally he would ask what it was that was so urgent, but he had a feeling he knew. With a gentle sigh that was his consent, Ulquiorra briefly glanced at his wrinkled sleepwear.

Noticing where his attention was focused, Orihime added, "You don't have to get all dressed up."

As Ulquiorra reentered the bedroom he couldn't help but to think it strange how Orihime was always so perceptive when it came to his unspoken thoughts. He wasn't used to being around others her age unless she (unfortunately) invited over her closer friends. Ulquiorra rarely was in the presence of normal teenagers. Walking her to school meant he'd be thrown into an entire crowd of them. He wasn't concerned about the attention he'd bring to himself, but it did bother him if his being there reflected negatively on Orihime.

So no, he didn't have to 'get all dressed up' as she'd so inelegantly put it, but he would definitely put at least some consideration into his wardrobe. For her.

When he reemerged and Orihime caught sight of him, she smiled. Reaching out a hand, she combed her fingers through his raven hair. "You have bed hair," she laughed. "It's cute."

"You use that term too frequently for it to mean anything," he replied coolly, gently pulling away her hand. She called nearly everything cute: animals, colorful cakes, little children, stuffed bears. In his opinion he shared no resemblance with any of those things, so how the word suited him he did not know.

Stepping outside together, the two of them instantly felt chilled, and as they walked side by side down the street, Orihime continued to move ever closer to Ulquiorra's side for warmth.

"So," she finally said when they rounded the corner at the end of the street, "I have something to tell you."

Patiently remaining quiet, he waited for her to continue, wondering if this would be the moment she finally decided to confess everything. It was clear she was nervous by her refusal to meet his gaze and the uneven rhythm of her walk.

"Well, next week is Valentine's Day," she began, glancing at him. "You remember what that is, right?"

"I do." How could he not? Signs of it were everywhere. Cardboard cutouts of half-naked angels bearing bows and arrows hanging from the store ceilings, big glittering hearts plastered on the front of every food item in the grocer, ads on the television for the finest chocolates. But the reason why Ulquiorra would and could never forget the oncoming of Valentine's Day was because every year around this time Orihime would become irrationally panicky when around him.

So was this why she felt so nervous? Disappointment as well as a surge of annoyance overcame him that she wasn't going to bring up the letter. He wasn't going to force it out of her. If she wished to discuss an exceedingly dispensable holiday, then so be it. "Do not concern yourself, onna. I do not require anything."

But she shook her head. "No, no, no, I know," she argued with a small smile. "I'm not talking about that."

Uncharacteristic impatience darkened his stare, and so Orihime got to the point.

She wasn't sure just how to say it or even where to begin, and so as she spoke a deep blush began to spread across her face. "Um, okay, well you see, at school there are some..." she hesitated, feeling very nearly scared to say the next word, "boys." A sigh left her, and she felt almost triumphant having just managed such a simple sentence. Unfortunately, though, what she had to say next was even more difficult. "And some of these boys l-like me."

Even though he was annoyed, more so over what she'd just said than anything else, Ulquiorra now felt incredibly relieved that she was at last broaching the subject he'd hoped she would. But her anxiety had now ascended to the point that it was affecting her ability to walk straight, and to stop her from nearly walking into a street lamp, but to also ease her a little, Ulquiorra took hold of her hand.

A look of surprise swept across her features as she looked at their now joined hands, and then up at Ulquiorra. She scrutinized his profile for a few seconds before quietly admitting, "I thought you'd be more annoyed."

Long white fingers cradled her hand more tightly in reassurance. "It would be unfair to be angered by something that is to be expected, although it does not please me." He'd always figured that Orihime was popular amongst the male population of her school. Personality aside, because he would bet on it that most of her admirers weren't concerned about that anyway, Orihime's physique was everything an average man desired. He'd witnessed himself the lecherous gazes of older men on her as she went innocently about her daily life. It wasn't hard to imagine the appeal she presented to young boys in the midst of puberty whose every thought was triggered by an unstable rush of hormones. "Why are you telling me this?"

Attention returning to the sidewalk, she said, "Lately I've had a lot of people confessing to me…" she paused as a student whizzed past them on a bicycle, and waited until they'd rounded the corner before continuing. "It's…annoying."

Ulquiorra studied the soft frown thinning her mouth and the crease in her brow. It wasn't an expression she wore often, at least not around him, which made him curious. Orihime was not the type that would refer to another's confession as annoying. She was much too kind and considerate to simply throw away someone else's feelings like that, even if she did not return them. But then a sudden thought struck him. The one thing Orihime did not tolerate was unnecessary violence and malice, and if she'd rejected all of their confessions, surely one of them must've responded adversely. "Did they attempt to harm you?" He said attempt because he knew that none would truly be capable of laying a hand on her. He was rarely concerned for Orihime's safety. She was most capable of defending herself. However, the thought of the expressions on those boys' faces when they discovered that such a deceivingly fragile-looking young girl could take them down faster than they could curl their fingers into a fist was awfully amusing to him.

A small smile broke her frown. "No, it's just," she sighed tiredly, "none of them believe me when I say I'm with someone. They think I'm lying."

"And why is your unavailability so implausible?"

Softly she squeezed his hand. "They think I'm making you up. And I don't really blame them," she confessed, slightly apologetic. "Other than a few of my friends, no one has ever seen you. When people ask me about you I don't know what to say." She lifted her free hand to count off on her fingers as she spoke. "'Where is he from? How old is he? How did you meet? Why doesn't he go to school?' These are all questions I'm not sure how to answer."

It wasn't that she didn't know the answers, she just didn't know how to tell people who wouldn't understand. Because Ulquiorra was not human, and nothing about him or their relationship or how they met was normal. So she always found her tongue tied, unable to tell the truth, and not wanting to tell a lie.

"Must they know everything?"

"No, but they should at least know something, right?" Gently, she touched the side of her head to his shoulder. "I want them to know about you."

This was precisely what Ulquiorra had hoped would never come to be, or at least not so soon. That one day Orihime would realize the difficulties his not being human presented. Something so simple as explaining to her friends how they met should not be difficult, and yet it was. And that was only a minor drawback.

He was not human. He did not grow up with human sentimentalities. Everything about him was different than the norm. He did not speak in the same way others did, or enjoy as many things. He could not offer Orihime certain things that other men, human men, were able to, and there wasn't a day that went by when that knowledge did not torment him.

He'd never be able to communicate with her as easily, or to convey emotions he had yet to even fully grasp yet. And there would always be a part of him that belonged to another world, entirely separate from hers. While he was no longer an Espada, while he was currently contained within a Gigai and living a peaceful life in her world, he would never be able to rid himself of his origin. Even though Orihime had filled the void that had once consumed him, he would never be able to forget what it was like to be hollow. And that, above all else, was what alienated him from the rest.

Picking up on his plummeting mood, Orihime nudged him with her hip to catch his attention, giving him a comforting smile.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, hands locked, Orihime every now and then glancing shyly from behind ginger bangs and Ulquiorra glancing back at her, curious as to why she was continuing to act so restless. She didn't say a single word about the love letter, and when they reached the school gates, Ulquiorra concluded that she wasn't going to.

A strange sense of unease came over him as Orihime lead him through the courtyard. Students dressed in the same uniform Orihime wore most days of the week watched him pass by, their eyes first inspecting his clothing before analyzing his face, most likely to see if they recognized him. He noticed a few glance at his and Orihime's joined hands, a look of surprise on their faces.

Looking up at the school building itself, Ulquiorra noticed even more students leaning out of windows, standing in the entranceway, congregating in large groups on the steps. Somehow they all seemed so young to him, and it was bizarre to think that they were the same age as Orihime who seemed so matured to him. But as always, she was exceptional.

When they reached the first of the steps leading into the school, Orihime stopped and turned to face him. She glanced shyly at the many, many onlookers surrounding them whose curious eyes were currently trained on their every move. Ulquiorra discerned a few boys sending him resentful glares that would've aggravated him had he cared.

Across the schoolyard, the first bell began to toll. A few students picked up their things and entered the school while most stayed behind, not so eager to go to class.

Briefly distracted by the moving crowd, Ulquiorra's attention was drawn back to Orihime when he felt her slide something inside his pant's pocket. Reaching for it, she caught his hand in hers.

"Don't look at it yet," she requested, blushing furiously.

He glanced down when he felt her curl her hand into the side of his jacket. And then, taking him completely by surprise, she leaned up to softly press her lips against his in a very chaste kiss. The heat from her face warmed his own, and when she pulled away, her smile was shy but unmistakably pleased.

A few gasps and a sudden burst of hushed whispers met their ears as passerby who'd witnessed the momentary display of intimacy couldn't contain their shock and quickly began to spread what they'd seen to whoever was closest.

In under an hour, most of the school would know that Orihime Inoue was taken by an oddly attractive stranger with jet-black hair, paper white skin, and beautiful green eyes, and that they'd just been seen kissing on the front steps of the school.

Needless to say, she wouldn't be receiving a confession any time soon.

"I, um…" She began, but couldn't finish. Her embarrassment was overwhelming her. It wasn't that she'd kissed Ulquiorra that had her blushing wildly, but rather that half the school had just seen her do it. What she'd just done was very bold and unlike her. "I—"

Warm lips pressed against hers, raven hair shielding her view of her surroundings. Her heart fluttered, her embarrassment momentarily forgotten in the wake of such a gentle kiss. "Go to class, Orihime," Ulquiorra murmured against her mouth.

It'd been unnecessary to kiss her again, but Ulquiorra did not ever concern himself with necessary and unnecessary when it came to kissing Orihime.

"O-okay, I'm going," she finally said, sounding every bit as disappointed about the fact as she felt. She gave him one last parting smile before dashing inside before she was late to class.

As Ulquiorra began making his way back the way he came, his mood lighter than it'd been in days, his fingers toyed with the folded letter Orihime had slipped inside his pocket.

It was only when he'd made it back to the apartment that he finally took it from his pocket and unfolded it, already expecting to read the same letter he'd read a few days before.

And indeed it was that same letter, except it was no longer legible due to the mess of pen marks scribbled over the words. In the bottom corner was a small arrow that'd not been there previously, and Ulquiorra turned the letter over.

Drawn on the back, rather clumsily as if by a child, was a badly done picture of him in a uniform that was currently hanging in the far back of the closet, and standing beside him—he supposed holding his hand, although he wasn't sure—was whom he guessed was Orihime. Scrawled across his face was a straight line, which he assumed was his mouth, and in the center of his chest was a significantly sized hole. What made the sketch all the more bizarre was the heart encompassing it all, and then at the very bottom, in neatly written cursive were three simple words: I love you.

For minutes he only stared at the paper, entirely absorbed, until his concentration was broken by the tremendous swell of warmth spreading throughout his chest, his entire being. And then, for only the four walls of the living room to witness, the corners of his mouth seemed to rise in what held the potential for a smile, although not quite enough to be counted.

She drew him as she knew him. As she saw him. There before his eyes, although horribly conveyed, but there nonetheless, was his helmet, his hollow hole, and the four marking his chest.

She didn't ignore his past and who he was. She didn't pretend that part of him didn't exist anymore just because his outward appearance had been somewhat altered. He was what she wanted, and she'd accepted that, and then so would he.

Being human was not what really mattered. It was only that he cared for her in the best way he knew how, with the body he had, with the ability he was given. Because if Orihime had taught him anything, it was that you did not have to be human to have a heart.

A/N: Wow, I haven't uploaded anything in a while. PLEASE REVIEW! I know there's no sexy time in this or anything even citrusy (I don't know how I controlled myself honestly), but I hope you at least felt the looooooooove~ Did you? Hmmmmm? I hope so, or major fail on my part haha

OK BAI