My imagining of Ulquiorra's thoughts during that infamous scene. Enjoy.
I am desolate, unfeeling, as cold and barren as the surface of the moon.
The moon of Earth, an uninhabited satellite most visible from the planet's surface at night. Its shadow exists in Hueco Mundo, mirroring it's earthly counterpart...
Curious that she should be so different. If I am the moon, then she is surely the sun: effervescent, effulgent, absurdly and eternally bright.
The sun, a gaseous yellow star many thousands of kilometers in diameter, its light is essential to living organisms and prompts the phase on Earth known as "day".
Yes, that is what she is. Her entire existence is spectacularly absurd. Her naivety, her hope, her excess of trust.
The sun and the moon of the living world chase each other in endless cycles across the sky.
I watch her cross the space between us. At this moment, she is irrepressibly radiant, even in a shredded and sullied gown, her face stained by wretched tears. Incredibly, she is yet untouched by fear, a fact which I am only beginning to fathom. As her hand reaches for mine, I reach in turn and allow a detestably sentimental flare of hope to color the greyscale canvas of my emotions.
I have seen these celestial bodies before, have known them in a hazy past. The fact that they exist is deep and fundamental, as certain as I know the ground exists beneath my feet. I wonder, however, about this endless chase of the sun and moon...
She is inches away now, and along with maddening anticipation, a single question occurs to me.
Do they ever touch?