Deluded
Ulquiorra-Rukia-Hitsugaya
She had never dealt with him directly, though she had seen him a couple of times, and heard of him often; after all he was the one responsible for tricking Orihime into leaving them. He was cold, calculating, indifference, and nihilistic; but above all he was an Arrancar, an Espada, the Cuatro Espada to be exact, he was Aizen's most loyal Espada for goodness sake and yet…
Yet she couldn't understand it, she couldn't understand herself. Maybe it was the stubborn bang of hair that hung across his forehead, so similar to her own, maybe it was the indifferent mask that he wore that reminded her of her own brother's mask. But was his really a mask, she knew her brother capable of deeper meaningful emotions, his marriage to her sister was proof, as well as his willing protectiveness. But his indifference, his coldness, a mask or his true self; she wanted to believe the former. Why? She did not understand why, a part of her soul just seemed to lean to him; the moment she heard his name something stirred within, she thought it was just mere nerves.
But when she had first seen him, the stirring from within grew stronger, until she was shaking with the need to run to him and smack him across the head for frowning so. She had wanted to make his eyes - his alluring and soulful emerald eyes – sparkle with warmth; she wanted to make his lips twitch as he tried not to smile at her. She wanted to save him, but her body had frozen, had kept her from running to him; her soul was screaming for proximity but her body kept her prisoner to the distance.
None of it made sense to her; she was grateful that her body had not heeded to her souls desire for he surely would have killed her without a thought, but deep within she had regretted her body's reaction, she had regretted not going to him when she had the chance to.
It was too late now; she could not explain why her heart and soul sank when Ichigo and Orihime announced his death. She could not explain why her body trembled with the urge to hit Ichigo, the urge to scream at him 'Why! Why! Why were you not strong enough to control your hollow?!' She could not explain why her fists tightened with fury at Orihime for not saving him, and envy at her that in the end it was she that he had reached out to.
The war was over, Aizen defeated; there was much to celebrate, much to be happy about and yet her heart was broken, her soul defeated. She was in pain, and she couldn't understand why she was in pain, why it hurt that he was gone though she had hardly known him, though he was her enemy. She was aching with the need to see him again, to hurt him for leaving her, to yell and shout, and tease; make fun of his stray bang of hair and his compulsive neatness, she was aching to be near him but could not understand why.
She would volunteer for any message that was meant for tenth, she would even offer Matsumoto help with any paperwork if needed which thankfully was often. All to be near her captain, Toshiro Hitsugaya; he was not him but his eyes were so similar, the same shade and depth. She would stare into his eyes whenever she could and imagine that he was him, imagine that she was with him, the he was still alive, and was with her.
She was mesmerized by his eyes, so caught up in imagining him to be him; that often she would smile whenever he frowned at the paperwork or smirked slightly at something said, or furrow his brows in frustration. He noticed her attention, her secretive smile, Matsumoto noticed too, and many others soon came to suspect, he thought it was for him, they all thought it was for him. How could they know, how could he know; that when she looked into his eyes, it was another's face that she saw, that when she smiled or unconsciously stared at him it was for another. There was one other that he and the others knew of with emerald eyes, that held the same shade and depth, but he was the enemy, one of Aizen's minions, Aizen's most loyal now dead, they would never suspect him to be the true cause of her wistfulness.
The more often she visited the tenth division, the less the aching from within; the more often she visited the tenth division, the more conscious he became of her presence, of her deep violet eyes so expressive, of that secretive smile he would catch upon her soft lips. If she was not at tenth he would go to her at thirteenth; his attention growing stronger that he would seek her after duties had been done for the day. She was unaware of his attention, for all she saw was him, that when he talked she would hear him, when his eyes sparkled in warmth for her she saw only his eyes sparkle in warmth for her.
When, one night gazing up at the stars, his lips tenderly brushed hers, she responded softly but eagerly. When he drew her closer, and deepened the kiss slipping his tongue into her mouth and tasting the sweetness of her she responded with an eager moan. When he groaned out her name as he pressed his hardness against her, her legs parted willingly for him and she moved her hips against him in ecstasy. When his hand loosened the tie of her yukata and began fondling her breasts, her thighs had tightened against his hips as her hands travelled down to the sash securing his hakama while his free hand ripped the bind of her underwear and he tossed the obstacle aside. She freed the sash, his hakama pooling down to his ankles, she stroked his rigid manhood, his groan tickling her ear, "Ulquiorra" she whispered into his ear, "please!" her hips moving against him, begging him to take her now.
He stiffed, pushing her away from him he stumbled back, quickly pulling his hakama back up, his breath was ragged and he stared at her in disbelief. He had heard her right; no man in such a position would imagine another man's name being said. She steadied herself against the tree he had pressed her against, her eyes confused at his reaction. The moon crept out of the confines of the dark cloud lighting upon his face, her eyes widened at whom she saw 'Hitsugaya-taichou.' She brought the yukata around her, tying it quickly, sinking down to her knees she clutched at her collar. 'Of course' she thought to herself, the realization of how far her wishfulness had deluded her sinking in fast. She clutched at her heart, he was gone, he was truly gone, "Ulquiorra!" she whispered painfully, tears cascading down her cheeks, her body shaking in sobs.
She didn't understand why, but she loved him.
AN; I don't quite like the title, but nehu its one part her delusion, and another part his (by his I mean Hitsugaya).
As it stands this is just a one shot. I decided to do a one shot to just excercise my mind, before i get into my other fics to finish the chaps for them. Wasn't really clear on the plot, but that's how it stands so I hope you like it...
reviews are really really appreciated
til next time
