Darkness encompassed him. Cold and complete it did until he was driven to run through various calculations in his head just to prove his existence to himself. Waiting was the key. Waiting until even the word itself lost meaning was the key. Key? Ulquiorra shook his head slowly...or at least he thought he did. Then the summons came. The permission to step back into the light and life of the world came...or that would be true if the world he was stepping back into was filled with light or even life for that matter.
"Yes, sir," was his monotone response as he shattered dimensions like looking glass and stepped back into the oppressive whiteness of a palace most inappropriately named The Night. He told himself he chose the throne room because it was the place of command in Las Noches. He told himself that he chose the throne room because that is where Aizen-sama would want his most trusted servant to look after things from. He told himself many things as he came back into the palace and most studiously ignored the almost overwhelming presence of her reiatsu. Yet how could one ignore a force almost as encompassing as the black he had just left? But oh this wasn't black...it was bright, so bright.
She saw him. She saw him and he wondered what she felt. She was so perfect up here...white against white in a sea of monochrome perfection. He wanted her to stay that way. How could one trap such purity and make it stay...make it stay in a place where so little was pure. A place where all souls were mingled and polluted with the filth of a thousand others seeking dominance in a single entity. Was death the answer? Wasn't it always the answer? Wasn't it never the answer?
He asked her if it scared her to die alone and wondered why he asked a question that could only be answered with yes. Had he not yet shaken the fruitless questioning of his imprisonment? He noticed he was at her side and how had that happened? Did she draw him so fully as certain flowers drew butterflies...or maybe this was more like a pitcher plant and a fly. He stopped in front of her and she spoke in riddles to him. She told him of hearts and friends and a place where fear did not exist. It all had to be nonsense and he told her so. Everyone was scared to die alone and hearts weren't real. He told her this. He didn't want his princess speaking tales to him.
He told her that if she had a heart that he wanted to see it. Suddenly it seemed important for him to know whether she was lying or if she knew something he did not. Could a heart be felt? It obviously could not be seen, so he decided to see if he could touch it. He reached out to her and gently pressed the place in her that was emptiness in him. It seemed the most logical place a heart would be, if indeed they existed. He still couldn't feel anything...at least he didn't feel anything like he expected a heart to feel like. He did feel slightly strange himself, but decided to pass that off as lingering effects of the long darkness. He wondered if he would find her heart if he ripped her open and was able to look and feel at will.
He was still debating this when he felt her small warm hand lightly circle his wrist and heard her whisper, "Maybe you can feel it better like this." She placed his palm flat against her chest and he could feel a rhythmic pulse underneath his hand. He knew all about physical hearts and he thought that wasn't what she was trying to show him. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. She continued on, "See some people think this is what you mean when you ask where your heart is, but I don't think that is quite the truth of it." She took his hand between both of her own and placed it between their bodies. Ulquiorra could feel a minute shaking in her hands and yet she was so strong and so sure and he didn't understand that part at all.
He was very conscious of her warmth and softness and hoped the unyielding chill of his skin wasn't bothering her. He opened his eyes and her face was almost too much. He wanted to touch it, to wander it with his fingers and to wonder at it with his eyes. He wanted...he wanted it to stay the same forever, but not in death. She was speaking to him again. "Do you understand a little?" He shook his head at that, but as she softly withdrew her hands from his he felt something. The tiniest twinge of yearning for that connectedness again...to feel...to feel again. No death didn't suit her face.