Dry Tears
I don't own Bleach and sadly, I never will :(
Ulquiorra had always been a hardened being. He truly was hollow, he didn't, or rather, couldn't just feel. His strength couldn't fill in the missingspace of emotion but he wasn't created to have emotion. He was created to kill, to cause pain, to bring the enemy to it's knees. He understood that and executed his duty with a 100% success rate.
On the day he captured the woman of Aizen's desire, he couldn't have cared less if he had taken a child from it's mother; he was void of emotion. Mostly, when he looked upon Orihime, he was glad he couldn't feel like she could. Crying didn't seem like something he would want to do day after day.
Every day he saw her clutching her chest and on her hands and knees. He knew what she was feeling but he didn't understand why; he didn't care to either. Humans were trash, or so he was told.
The woman constantly insisted on forming a relationship with him, even if it was just a relationship formed in passing. In later days she would try and talk to him. He dint like talking much.
As the days passed on in Hueco Mundo, she tried explaining to him what it was she was feeling and why. He tried to act as if he cared less and less but he couldn't help but be captured by her words.
Her silly words also made him angry. They made him think about such nonsense as "emotion" and something she called a "heart" yet she would say that it wasn't just the muscle inside if her that kept a rhythm. He couldn't feel emotion but to her, he always look like he was crying. He told her that his tattoos that appeared to be tears were there since hi creation and that they had nothing to do with his mostly nonexistent "emotions".
Now, three weeks after her kidnapping, he began to feel something other than his constant nothingness. He couldn't put a name to it but would describe it as an itch in hi upper chest. His chest sometimes felt heavy when he looked upon the woman he had come to know as of late.
He never understood what exactly she meant by "love" or "joy" or any other nonsense she constable rambled about. Not until the day he was defeated on the dunes if Hueco Mundo. It was only then that he fully understood what the heavy and itching feeling in his chest was. As his body finally gave way, he tried to say his last few words to her, to tell her he knew now. But it was too late. His body fading, his last thought was o the woman he became close to and an understanding of the dry tears tattooed on his face. He was to forever weep the mistake he made. His existence was nearly gone and all he could see was the tears on her plain yet pretty face. He wished that he could have felt like she did, to feel like she could but he was damned to a hell of cold and unfeeling.
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