Chapter 1: Color - edited by Caroline98

Sometimes, Orihime just lay on the white couch at the center of her room, staring up at the white ceiling. She would close her eyes, breath, and then open them again, trying to imagine a blue sky in place of the white above her. She found that with each passing day it was becoming harder and harder to imagine that blue sky, so far away, with a warm yellow sun and a fresh breeze.

Sometimes, Orihime would just sit in front of her solitary window, staring out at the white sands. Bleached trees, naked and gnarled like bones, reached up to the endless black expanse that hovered over the lands of Hueco Mundo. She would look up at the unchanging pale crescent moon, and think about the sweet green grass beneath her feet, and the smell of earth, and the noise of a park. Over time, her images started to lose color, becoming more and more like the endless white sands and black sky she saw in reality.

Sometimes, Orihime would stand in the corner of her room, her head tilted to the side and look down at her white dress. It was a fine dress. It may have been alien in design, but it was beautiful nonetheless. On any other day, she might have worn it for fun, and twirled around in the clothing like she was a princess in the middle of a cheery room. She tried to replace the dress she had on with memories of her colorful clothing. She imagined a bright yellow skirt that went to her ankles, printed with striking orange flowers. With it, a bright purple shirt with shiny silver buttons and a little green and yellow flower printed over the right breast. Like everything else, though, the pretense grew weaker with each passing breath she drew.

Orihime was sitting on the white floor once again, a hand fisted in the white fabric of her dress, as she stared out at the bright white moon.

"It's all so colorless." She whispered to herself. The sound of her voice startled her, and once the sound faded off the silence hanging in the air made its presence even more oppressive. In an attempt to rid the air of the heavy silence, she added on another thought. "Everything… it's all black and white."

She longed for color. Anything. A gentle blue, a light shade of yellow, a tiny dash of purple. Anything.

A strand of her hair fell over her shoulder, rolling over her breast. Orihime looked down at her hair, so startling in color, looking almost neon amongst all the black and white. Her eyes soaked in the color, trying to focus on it. She tried to keep herself sane, simply by staring at the one color she had.

Her eyes soon grew weary of the orange shade. It was starting to become just another shade of nothing in her room. In her cell. The small spark of orange meant nothing amid so much white. White and black, white and black, white and black. That's all that there was.

It was driving her mad.

The door to her room opened up, and in stepped the man with the saddest eyes she had ever seen. He was her guard, her warden, and her caretaker all at the same time. He may have been cold, and he rarely showed any emotion, but underneath all of that… there was something there that she just couldn't put her finger on.

"Ulquiorra-kun." His name rolled off her tongue in a pleasing manner, a word so sensual when spoken against the silence. She found that for some reason her bubbly tone re-appeared at times when he came to visit.

He glared. To any other person, it would seem as if he had not even blinked. They would not see the emotion playing out over his face, because it was such a subtle shift in his expression, it was almost unnoticeable. But she had come to know him, and as the days grew by his whole body spoke to her in ways she could never remember hearing from any other person. Even the smallest shift was a loud word. And for the life of her, she couldn't figure out how she knew him so well. Most bewildering of all, she couldn't figure out why she was starting to want to know the Arrancar before her more.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot, you don't like an honorific added to your name." She smiled slightly. It was a tiny smile, so small none of her friends would ever have realized it was a smile at all. He did though. "I guess you've brought me lunch, huh?"

He dipped his head once, never once breaking eye contact with her. In his hand was a platter, on top of which there was a bowl filled with some sort of pudding. She knew it would taste bland, but it was all she had, so she tried to make the best of it.

"You will eat it all, woman, and you will do so in a timely manner."

She didn't really need to reply. How was someone supposed to reply to that, after all? So, instead, she just gave another small smile. She wasn't really able to move after that. She just sat there, staring up at the man who called himself Ulquiorra. Her eyes locked with his, just staring, as he stared back.

He was the color.

Brilliant, dazzling, beautiful green eyes. He was every shade of color in the world, put down to a green. His tear marks, too, were the loveliest color she could ever bring to mind. His color, there, surrounded by the white and black of Los Noches, was the most startling shade of green she could ever have recalled.

She loved his visits. Every time he came into the room, he would bring that color with him. The sole color in her prison world. And she loved it.

"Thank you." She found herself saying.

He hesitated before nodding once more, but by the look in his eyes, he wasn't sure what to make of her thanks. He knew she wasn't thanking him for the food, even though that's what it would have sounded like to anyone else.

He suddenly moved forward, and set the plate on the ground in front of her, before swiftly turning to leave. For once he did not stay to make sure she ate what she had to, to watch and make sure that Aizen's precious little prisoner did not starve herself. It almost looked as if he were running from the room.

Then, he paused. He stopped at the doorway, hands in his pockets, and just stood there.

"Cinnamon."

Her eyes, which had been focused on his feet in defeat, leapt up to stare at the back of his head.

"Your hair. That is the color. I have been trying to place it, and have so far been unsuccessful. I have figured it out, though, and I now realize what the name for your hair's color is. It is cinnamon."

Something inside of her chest lurched, and all at once, she realized that she must have been the only color he had in the great palace of dark and white. Yes, the other Arrancar had striking hair colors, and eye color, and markings of color as well. But their color was loud, and unsettling, and screamed of a danger that could make someone wish that is was all just black and white as the sands and sky.

He took a step forward, about to exit the room, when she spoke.

"Jade." He paused, looking over his shoulder at her, a spark of curiosity in his eyes. He hid it well, but to her it was obvious he wanted to know what she was saying this time.

"It's the closest I've come to guessing your eye color. I know it's not exact, jade is a little lighter most of the time, but… it's the only thing I can think of to describe the color."

He blinked once. He blinked twice. And suddenly, he turned around to sit on her couch. "Eat, woman." He said, leaning back until he lay. "And do not chatter. I am going to rest."

She smiled then, this time for real. "Okay." She answered, finding a small spring of happiness bubbled up inside of her. She had gotten his silent message. He trusted her. He wasn't sure about her, but… he wasn't going to throw his walls up against her anymore. He was curious about her. And, somehow, it seemed that he might be offering out a small promise of companionship, even if it was just the slightest.

She found that she was… delighted.

She was a little alarmed by this feeling, and a voice in the back of her mind screamed that she couldn't betray Kurosaki-kun, and yet…

Something was there. She still couldn't quite place her finger on it, but she was certain that something was there now. And even though it scared her, she was determined to find out just what it was.

If only to keep those jade eyes watching her from the sea of black and white.