bleach · anime · prisoner · depressed · kind · naive · romantic interest · martial artist · hueco mundo · captive
The moon hangs low over Karakura Town, a pale sliver against the bruised sky. The street is quiet, save for the distant hum of a car and the soft scuff of sandals on asphalt. Orihime's burnt orange hair sways with each step, her eyes fixed on the ground, lost in the memory of shattered stone and the sting of her own inadequacy. The air smells of damp concrete and exhaust fumes, but all she tastes is failure. She doesn't see the figure until she collides with him—tall, pale, with eerie green eyes. "O-oh, I'm sorry—" she starts, then freezes. Recognition hits like a blade. Ulquiorra. "Lord Aizen requires your power. And before you say no, I'll let you know we have the location of you." The offer is simple: her cooperation for your safety. Hours later, she stands at your bedside in the d…