Wow I can't believe I forgot how to edit a chapter. lol.
Summary: Ulquiorra has been offered the chance for redemption. A glimmer of hope was shown during his death after fighting with Ichigo in Hueco Mundo. Now he will have to find redemption to relive his live in a different manner...and he has to help one of the Fallen find redemption as well. Will he be able to show that he does indeed have a heart and will he be able to help the angel find her redemption as well?
Whispers and murmurs could be heard throughout the dark halls. Here, where the condemned were housed, the muted screams of the punished and the tortured could be heard if one listened beyond the voices. There were no second chances here, no repentance; only the punishments that were meted out for transgressions against the order of the world, the order of the spirits.
The cell doors swung open, the guards dragging their prisoner beyond them. He looked up, seeing her returned once again, seeing her covered in bruises once again, open wounds seeping over partially and fully healed ones. He would nurse her wounds like he did every time she was brought back. He was never punished, merely imprisoned. His cellmate, this woman, was punished almost every day for her trespasses, her crimes. She never spoke to him of what she did to deserve such punishment, she never cried, she never screamed.
The first time she had been brought in, he had been surprised that it was a woman, even more so to see her wearing next to nothing. The horror of her wounds was beyond him. She should have died from those wounds. The guards had given him a kit to tend her, to "patch her up" as they had said. And he did. He sewed close the rips and gashes along her chest, her sides, bandaging what he could. The supplies had never run out, always refilling as he used them.
His biggest surprise that he received when he was tending her were the ones on her back. On her shoulder blades were tears, broken bones…where her wings had been ripped off.
She was one of the fallen, one of the angels who had rebelled against heaven. She had been captured instead of being allowed to escape as some of the others had. What little he knew of her was told to him by the guards. She never spoke. When the guards had found him trying to get her to speak, they had laughed, stating that she couldn't answer even if she wanted to; her tongue had been ripped out. The hounds of heaven were thorough in their work.
The man sighed, pulling her over to the mat that provided her with some protection from the cold rock floor after the guards shut the cell door. He gathered up a bowl of water, using the larger bandages from the kit to wash her new wounds.
He sighed to himself. Today was just like the others. Every morning they would come for her, they would take her; she didn't protest or put up a fight, she went along with them. What he considered every evening, they would bring her back with fresh wounds.
He shouldn't have cared. In his former life, he was un-emotive, feeling nothing and giving nothing. He instilled fear in the hearts of those he fought and conquered. He had been a caretaker for the human woman that had been brought to him to watch over in that past life. He had twisted her mentally, tortured her without her own comprehension of what he was doing. He had fallen in love with her without realizing it, though. And in some small part of her heart, she returned that love. She hadn't feared him, bravely stood up to him when so many others would have cowered.
Now, in this cell, he was just one of the many that were imprisoned. He didn't know what was in store for him. He didn't know if he could have redemption. This place was sometimes referred to as purgatory, the abyss or the nether world. It was a place in between where temporal punishment that still remains to be endured by the sinner was given.
He had committed sin in both life and after life in Hueco Mundo. He had taken his orders from the man that everyone there had revered as a god. Now, he had accepted that this was the price he must pay. He had been locked away from everything. He had company but she may as well have not been there for the lack of communication. Her tending at least gave him something to do to pass the time.
"You wish for redemption?"
He looked around, surprised that a voice spoke out from the constant buzz that surrounded him.
"What would you do if given that chance?"
"Who's there," he answered, shocked at hearing his own voice.
"I asked you a question. Would you like the chance for redemption?"
"There is no redemption for me," he answered quietly as the buzz began to die away.
"What if there was? Would you take that chance?"
The idea was tempting. He would like to be released from his cell. He wanted to learn more about the different people in the world. He wanted to know about people like that Quincy, like Kurosaki…like Orihime. He felt a small pang in his chest as he recalled the sadness in her eyes, her sadness projected at him when he died.
"Would you work with this female to earn your redemption? Would you help her find her own redemption?"
"Help her? Why would you need me to help her," he asked.
"Because she is my sister," a voice said from the cell bars. "She is love. She is cruelty…she is the watcher of the southern gate."
"That doesn't answer my question," the man said as he looked toward the figure standing at the bars.
"Her name is Sachiel, the Covering of God," the man answered. "She is the protector, the one who gives shelter. She is abundance and she is despair. She was tricked into betraying us. It pains me to see her suffer in silence as she has. It has been agreed to give her the chance to redeem herself. If you help her, you will also find redemption…and a way to be free to relive your life in a different manner."
"And how will this work," the man asked.
"You will be sent to a barren land," the figure answered. "You will teach her to reopen her heart to the world."
"I have no heart."
"You do, Ulquiorra. You have the ability and the capability of loving someone. You refuse to show it, thinking that such displays are a sign of weakness. Compassion is the first step to love. You have that compassion in you even if you do refuse to acknowledge it."
"What will happen after I find my redemption," he asked. "Will I stay in the area where I find it?"
"If that is your wish."
He looked back at the woman lying on the mat before turning his eyes to the floor. He could almost feel something gnawing at his chest. He wouldn't admit it aloud but he would admit to himself that seeing this woman wounded repeatedly was wearing on him. This would almost be a reprieve for her, a break. Would he do it for her…or for himself?
He met the cold blue eyes that stared at him, pausing as he considered the situation.
"I accept."
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Ulquiorra looked up from the bottom of the hill to the small house that stood atop it. If it could be called a house. Amidst the cliffs and overhangs and one tree that provided some shade, was the place where he had been shown by their guide. Still unconscious, the woman was carried by the man while he took them to where they would be living.
The shack was only on one level, solidly built with two rooms for sleeping, a small kitchen out doors and a sitting room inside. The shower as well as the rest of the restroom were located outside. An outhouse, the guide had told him. The shower was actually a small waterfall that fell nearby, a rough type of enclosing around it for some privacy. The water that fell from it wasn't cold but cool and felt pretty good in the roasting heat of the desert.
They had been here for almost a week now. The woman had been awake but hadn't eaten, nor had she spoken during the time here. She kept looking at him as if expecting him to take her for her daily beating. She woke every morning, surprised to find no new marks on her body, no new scars. The old wounds had already closed, well on their way to healing from what he could tell.
He had noted that there were quite a few plants that grew along the river that ran by their small house. He had seen her looking out the window at them in longing. He had tried to encourage her to go outside but she refused, shaking her head at him when he tried to coax her out of the house.
He adjusted the two sacks of groceries that he had bought from the local market. Their guide had supplied them with more than enough money to use in this area that he wouldn't need to do anything but provide for them while they worked on what they needed to. He began to climb the small hill.
As he had in Hueco Mundo, Ulquiorra dressed in white but his pants were often a tan color. He also had decided to try the heavier denim that he had seen the men in the area wear. For her, he had retrieved shorter versions of his pants, a few only coming up to her mid thighs and light shirts for her as well. She hadn't said anything during the one journey they had made to the small town that was a half hour walk from their house. She had tried on clothing and given him the items that she had found acceptable to wear.
As he made it to the door, he heard a sound that he hadn't been accustomed to hearing around the area. It was light, lilting in its tone, even if he could not understand the words.
The man who had made the bargain with him had also informed him that she had lived in another world to try to find redemption but had failed due to a discovery that hadn't been anticipated. For her own safety, they had brought her back to the abyss. Now she was being given another chance, in another world.
Setting his packaged down by the door, he walked toward the sound, moving cautiously. He wasn't prepared for the sight of the woman facing to the south, her clothing wet from the river water, her hands raised to the sky.
Anar'alah, Anar'alah belore
Sin'dorei Shindu fallah na
Sin'dorei Anar'alah Shindu
Sin'dorei Shindu fallah na
Sin'dorei
Anar'alah belore Shindu
Sin'dorei Shindu fallah na
Sin'dorei
Anar'alah belore…Belore
He sat on the bank of the river, listening, enthralled by her song. He could hear the sadness of it in her tone. Her voice was clear and beautiful, the song bringing a swelling to his heart that he couldn't recognize.
As the song ended, he felt a small tear roll down his cheek.
She turned to him, her eyes open, her chin held in defiance. After a moment, she raised her right hand, a sword appearing in it. She turned away from him, swinging the sword, a powerful blast of golden energy flying from it, churning the riverbed.
Standing abruptly, he wiped the small bit of moisture away as she began to walk toward him. Her sword vanished into wisps of smoke, giving him no time to study the monstrosity that she had wielded.
As she approached, she kept her eyes on his, her luminous green eyes locked with his vibrant green ones. He could see now that she wasn't pale as he had first thought but rather a golden complexion with fiery red hair that spiraled loosely down her back. Her lips were pursed but looked full. She didn't look like that woman but he could see that she was beautiful with her delicately chiseled cheekbones that rode a bit high, her face heart shaped. Her eyes held a hard glint to them, as if she had seen much in her life. She looked extremely young but knew that she wasn't.
She stopped a pace away from him, not breaking her gaze. He could feel the powerful aura emanating from her.
"Your cooking is terrible," she said after a moment. Her voice was soft but not overly so.
He was shocked, to say the least. He knew he didn't cook well but thought it was at least passably edible.
He scoffed, "I never said I knew how to cook."
"Well it's lucky for us, I do," she answered back.
"This is the first time you've spoken to me since you came into my presence and this is all you have to say to me," he asked her.
She took a few steps past him, stopping as he said this. She turned back to him, her eyes expressionless. "I humbly thank you for keeping me alive by tending to my wounds. Thank you for allowing them to inflict more punishment upon me," she said before turning back to her destination.
Now he felt like an ass. He didn't know that she felt that way. They had told him that they would leave her memories of her punishment but not the memory of her transgression. They feared that it would lead her back to the road she had been taken from.
He sat on the river bank a bit longer, his eyes focused on the water as it ran past, his thoughts moving sluggishly through his head.
The smell of meat mixed with spices began to fill the air, the scent making his stomach grumble. Eating wasn't anything new to him but this area that they had been taken to was nowhere like the area he had lived in before his death. They didn't have soy beans, no ingredients for miso. They had ramen but the noodles were dry, requiring boiling water with a little packet of seasoning to add to the noodles. They had an abundance of meat, spices but nothing he knew how to cook.
For the last week, he had brought cold meats, bread, cheese, ramen and juice. The different flavors of chips that they had available were something of an addiction for him. He found that the ones labeled bar-b-cue were almost impossible for him to stop eating. The sweet tang it left on his tongue reminded him of teriyaki, something he rather enjoyed when he was alive.
As he got up from the riverbank, dusting himself off, he made his way toward the small house. Then a thought occurred to him. "Where did she get meat from?"
His question was answered as he reached the small cooking area that was shaded by a type of awning attached to the house. In a bucket on the ground were the hides of two small creatures that she currently had spitted over the fire. He could see the juices running down the sides, herbs clinging to them.
"What are those and where did you get them," he asked.
"Rabbit," she answered. "I caught them in a snare."
He looked at the meat, refusing to admit that his mouth was currently watering at the smell of the spiced meat. He turned away, not asking any more questions. He was curious though as to how she managed to set up a snare and how she knew where to put it.
He sat at the table, absently picking at the edge of the bag of chips. He felt like having some, to ruin his appetite. Before he was able to open the bag, he felt a sharp sting on the back of his hand. He looked at his hand in surprise, noticing the red markings of fingers there. He looked incredulously toward the woman.
"Did…you…just hit me," he asked quietly.
"Yes, I did," she answered. "Dinner is almost ready, so don't be rude and ruin your appetite."
He stood up, facing away from her. "I find that I am not hungry," he said as he walked away. He was feeling a bit angry but not fully so. He had always wanted her to talk while they were imprisoned together but to hear her now, he almost wished she was quiet again.
As he walked back to the riverbank, he could feel her behind him. He stopped, the woman stopping behind him.
"I apologize," she said quietly. "I shouldn't had done that."
"And you think that makes it all better," he asked condescendingly.
"No. I know that I was wrong for what I did. I shouldn't treat you as a child."
He looked over his shoulder at her; though her face reflected her apology, her eyes did not. They reflected sincerity that also echoed through her words.
"Won't you…join me for the meal," she asked quietly. "I found some roots to also go with the rabbit. It isn't much but at least it isn't a cold sandwich or noodles."
"Are you saying that you don't like what I brought to eat," he asked, never taking his eyes from her.
"Nope," she answered as she turned away. "I've survived on much worse." She began to walk back toward the cooking area without him.
Now he was curious. He had lived on souls as an arrancar but what had she survived on when she was out in battle?
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He caught up with her as she was setting the table the roasted meat already at its center beside a shallow bowl filled with the steamed roots that she had said that she found. They didn't look very appetizing but their smell was a different story.
Two glasses of juice and napkins were set by the plates. Ulquiorra sat at the table, waiting for her to take her seat as well before beginning the meal.
"Thank you, Sachiel," he said softly to her. She jerked slightly at hearing her name spoken aloud.
"I never told you my name," she said.
"Your brother did," he answered. "They gave me a brief history of you after I agreed to their contract. But I would like to ask you is this…"
She looked at him expectantly.
"Would you tell me of the life you lived in that other world," he asked.
She smiled gently at him, taking her seat before putting the napkin across her lap. "I will answer your questions to the best of my ability," she answered, meeting his eyes with her own.
"Is that where you learned to cook," he asked first off.
"Yes. I was a wife and mother as well as a soldier there," she answered. "I…had to learn to survive first off because the supplies that came to our camps didn't always make it there. I had troops to feed."
"So…you were also a commander as well as a soldier?"
"Mm…" she nodded. "I was a general in charge of over five thousand troops. There were innumerable abilities that they had. My abilities were always toward the holier side of power and I was an arms master. There was no weapon that came into my hand that I couldn't use. We had hunters, shamans, mages, warlocks…so many different talents they had."
"There were classes?"
"Not classes like in society but a class of abilities. Hunters were used for tracking, hunting…they were survivalists, marksmen and beast masters. We had those that studied the arcane, mages and warlocks. Shamans and druids were masters of the elements and the wilds. Shamans could actually wield lightning, fire, the wind…druids were capable of commanding nature and its elements as well. There were warriors and paladins. Warriors had no magical abilities but they fought well. I, myself, was a paladin…a holy soldier. We had assassins and priests who would heal the wounded with their prayers, other priests who were able to inflict much pain with their power," she said. "It was a vastly different world. A world constantly filled with conflict."
"So a battle of good and evil," he asked.
She shook her head. "No…more a constant struggle of ideals," she answered. "Those of my race, the elves…were split into three factions. Humans, night elves, the highbourne, the dwarves and the gnomes…they all stick together. They call themselves the alliance. The children of the blood, the Sindorei as I was known as, are allied with the orcs, trolls, tauren and the undead. We are considered the evil taint on the world."
"That's quite a few races," Ulquiorra commented.
She nodded, taking a bite of the rabbit before chewing on it thoughtfully.
Ulquiorra also took the time to digest some of what she said. The creatures that she had mentioned were only known to him through fairy tales, stories to entertain children.
Children…
"You said that you were a mother," he asked.
She nodded again, licking the juice from the meat off her fingers.
She looked at him a moment before answering. "I had a sister, a daughter, a husband…I had family," she said. "My daughter was raised to enter the service of the assassins. My sister became a master of arcane arts, using her intelligence to become a master demon summoner. My husband was a paladin like myself. I had a distant cousin…she taught me about herbs, which you can eat, which you can't, which are used for medicines."
"You speak of them in the past tense," he commented.
"I will never go back to that world…so in my mind, I am dead to them. My husband died before I was taken from that world. It's best this way."
"You were singing earlier," he said. "It was a beautiful song but so sad at the same time."
She swallowed, nodding. "It's meant to be sad…," she said. "It's a lament. One that was sung by the Banshee Queen when she remembered her past life…her family. I learned the words while she sang it …after I brought her a locket that belonged to her sister. The song has nothing to do with her family but rather reflects loss."
"Would you translate it for me someday?"
"It doesn't sound the same if it's not in Thalassian. But yes, I will translate it for you."
She looked at him a moment, her thoughts turning as she tried to form her own questions in her mind.
"What is your name," she asked. "You know mine but I would also like to know yours."
He looked at her a moment before answering. "Ulquiorra."
She twisted up her lips, puckering them as she drew her brows together, her jaw moving even if her lips didn't move. After a moment, she let out the breath she had been holding while trying to twist her tongue around the name.
"That's a mouthful," she said. "Is there a nickname that you go by?"
"No. Your name isn't the easiest to pronounce either," he said.
"Point taken."
"Alright then, Ulquibby…No, that's not right…Ilka…oooh…aww dammit!"
He watched her as she struggled to say his name. He smirked a bit, realizing that she wasn't able to pronounce his name even though the language he had heard her speaking in was beyond his ability to pronounce either.
"Watch me," he said. "Ul…qui…orra."
"Oohl…key…ore…ah," she pronounced slowly, smiling as the name clicked in her mind. "You're latin?" she asked, the confusion showing on her face.
"No."
"But it's a latin name."
"No it isn't."
"Umm…ok then," she said, getting up and taking her leftovers to the disposal bucket, putting her dish in the basin.
"You fight," she asked.
He was taken aback by her question.
"Not any more," he answered after a moment's hesitation.
"Oh," she said dejectedly.
He looked at her with questioning eyes as she set about to washing up the few dishes that they had used.
"Why do you ask," he asked her.
She shrugged. "I was thinking that we could get together and train," she said after a moment. "No sense in letting our weapon skills get rusty. Besides, they'll come in handy in the near future."
"What do you mean," he asked in confusion.
She stopped washing the dishes, setting the cloth to the side as she wiped the soap from her hands. She looked at him, her green eyes meeting his.
"We…there's…do you believe in premonition," she finally managed to ask.
"To an extent," he answered.
She looked down, hand on her hip as she tried to explain the vision she had scene. "I have such abilities," she said. "In the near future, a girl from the village will make a discovery while she is out in the desert. Such a discovery should not be made, however. She opens a seal by accident."
"A seal?"
Sachiel nodded. "A seal which was placed near here in a canyon. The purpose of the seal is to keep demons sealed in hell," she continued. "When she breaks the seal, she will be alone and get severely injured. We have to stop her from dying."
"And the demons?"
"Well…I can place a seal but it wouldn't keep the aura from leaking unfortunately. It won't be as strong since my brother Michael placed that seal there. I'm not near as strong as he is."
"And that means…"
"That means, we will have to keep them at bay," she answered. "I will also have to contact the spirit warriors here."
"Spirit warriors?"
"Where did you say you were from?"
He stopped, looking at her with confusion as she changed the subject.
"They have different names, depending on where they are in the world," she explained. "Here, they would be spirit guardians."
"Like shinigami?"
"Japanese soul guardians?"
"You know them?"
"Personally? No. But they have a base there in Asia that encompasses quite a few areas. There's one for every continent."
"You talk a lot," Ulquiorra noted to her.
Now that surprised her. "I thought you wanted me to speak to you," she said.
"I never said that."
"You thought it, though."
His eyes widened slightly in surprise.
"You know, it would be easy for us to pass as siblings," she said, again changing the subject. "Well…aside from the fact that you're as pale as a ghost."
"My skin color has always been pale."
"Mine has always been this weird golden peachy color. Oh well. The genes that make up a person's composition are different for everyone. No one expected my daughter to have black hair even if mine was red and her father's was blonde." She went back to washing the last pan that was soaking in the basin.
"We need to make some improvements around here as well." Again with the change of subject.
"Will you help me make a cooler for us to store meats and such?"
He looked at her a moment, processing her words. "They have appliances for that, you know," he said finally. "But I will help you with the improvements and with the training."
Her face lit up, a bright smile on it. "Great! We'll get started after I finish the dishes. We have a bit of work to do. Do you have a sword?"
"No."
"Well that's a problem…sorta. I can get you one," she said, smiling as she dried her hands, dumping the basin over the edge of the wall.
She walked around to the front of the house, into the unshaded part of the yard. She looked around through squinted eyes, Ulquiorra watching her. He could tell that she was already making calculations, studying what they had to work with.
"Got it," she said.
"Got what?"
She turned to him, smiling. "What?"
"What do you have?"
"Oh…that. Well…," she scratched the back of her head. "I have a pretty good idea of what I want to get done but we need to get to a hardware store so I can get a better idea. Is there one in that town you go to?"
"I think so."
"Well what are we waiting for then," she said cheerily, taking his hand and moving in the direction of the small town that was nearby.
He looked down at their joined hands, wondering at how she could easily take his hand as if it were the most natural thing for her to do.
As they walked and held hands, Ulquiorra noted the warmth she gave off as well as the soft feel of her hands. In Hueco Mundo, no one dared to touch him, not even Yammy. He smiled slightly, looking at their hands for a moment longer before he looked to the woman, wondering at her smiling face, humming as she walked along. It was almost as if she were a child.
She was of great interest to him. He could learn from her.
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He looked down into her grey eyes, the tears he saw there making him feel even more guilty than he already did.
"Inoue," he said with a husky voice. He brought his hand up, cupping her cheek. "Don't make that face."
Said woman sniffled, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over. She lowered her head, her bangs partway covering her face.
They were in Ichigo's dorm room. She had come to the university to see him for the seasonal break, having made plans for them to go to the beach with all their friends.
"Did I do something wrong," she asked in a timid voice that threatened to break.
"Not entirely, Inoue," he replied. "I just feel that we need to do this now before we get to the point where I don't think we can come back from it."
"Back from …what?"
"I don't want us to get to the point where we're together just for the sake of being together," he answered, sighing. "I know that I love you, Inoue. But I'm not in love with you. I can't see myself spending the rest of my life with you."
That did it. Orihime broke down. Falling to her knees, she began sobbing. Ichigo knelt beside her, taking her in his arms as he tried to console her. She grabbed onto his t-shirt, burying her face in his chest.
"K…Kurosaki-kun…," she moaned into his chest. "Di…didn't I do things right? I…was always…there. I made sure you never…went without …anything…"
Ichigo sighed to himself. He knew this wasn't going to be easy but it was better this way. He didn't see any way around it. The feelings that he had tried to pretend he had when they first got together never grew into what Orihime's had.
"Please don't make this harder than it already is, Inoue."
"Is there something I can do to change?"
He shook his head, knowing deep down that it wouldn't help.
"You…you still think Kuchiki-san will come back," she asked.
"No," he said with a shake of his head. "It's been three years already. If she were going to come back, it would have happened already."
"So…then why?" she asked as she tried to wipe her tears away.
"As I said, Inoue…I'm not in love with you. For a while, I thought I was in love with Rukia and then tried to put that behind me. I was unfair to move on to you. I can't give you all of me. You're not Rukia and you can't be a replacement for her," he said. "I fell in love with Rukia even though I didn't know it at the time. Now is the time for me to put all that behind me and just try to move on with life."
"Without us?"
He gave her an exasperated look. "No, of course not. I want to remain friends but I don't want any romantic attachment. But I do need to find my place in this world," he explained. "I knew my place in the world of the shinigami. But here, I feel lost."
Orihime looked at him with sad eyes. "I know what you mean," she said to break the tension. "When I saw all that you and Rukia, Ishida and Sado could do and all I could do was heal, I felt so out of place. Lost, as you say."
"Then…as friends, we should be able to guide each other to finding a way back," Ichigo suggested.
Orihime smiled at him. Ichigo had been with her long enough to know when she was faking a smile…and this one was just that.
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They strolled into town, Sachiel having let go of Ulquiorra's hand just before they spotted the first building. She looked around. It wasn't much of a town. She could see quite a few buildings lining what appeared to be the main street of the town. There was a market, a hardware store and several other shops that boasted different types of wares. They headed toward the general store.
"How do you intend to pay for things," he asked her. "I wasn't given very much money to see us through. What I do have left, I've been using for food."
Sachiel turned, that brilliant smile of hers spread across her face. She knew she stood out since she turned quite a few heads when she had come into town with him before when they bought some clothing.
"We need to find a bank," she said. "Somewhere where I can trade in my coins for money."
Ulquiorra lifted an eyebrow, unsure of what she was planning. With all the spontaneity of a child, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small bag. It fit snuggly in the palm of her hand. She tossed it once, the sound of jingling could be heard. It was a heavy sound, a bit muted.
"What's that?"
"My coins," she exclaimed. "My brother gave me back some of my personal things I brought with me when I was taken from Azeroth. I figured that if we use gold for currency there, they might do the same here!"
She peered around, still walking a bit. "Now where is that bank," she muttered to herself.
Ulquiorra stopped, pointing behind himself. Sachiel looked curiously around him, her face lighting up again as she spotted the bank.
"Aha!" she exclaimed before skipping down the paved walkway toward it.
He followed her, wanting to see what she was going to do with her coins. As they entered the cool building, Sachiel let out a sigh of pleasure.
"First time with air conditioning?"
"pfft! Where I come from, there's no such thing," she answered. "Now my homeland is in perpetual spring so we don't have the kind of heat there that they do here. This reminds me of Durotar."
She turned to him, standing close as she pulled loose the leather thong that held her bag together. She opened it a bit in her hand, counting out ten gold coins. They were crudely shaped and a bit on the worn side but their deep yellow coloring showed through.
His eyes widened at the sight of all the coins in the pouch. By his estimation, there were probably close to a hundred of them in there.
"And that's all you brought," he asked her.
"No. I brought quite a bit more of my personal stash," she answered. "But I figured that this might be enough to get us started." She pulled out a few of the coins, inspecting them before putting them back in.
She turned back, heading toward the woman that was seated behind a desk.
"Excuse me," she said quietly.
The woman looked at her with a fake smile on her face. "Can I help you," she asked.
"Yes, please. I would like to exchange some gold."
The woman's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Gold?"
"Yes, gold," Sachiel said again, plopping her pound on the woman's desk.
The woman eyed the pouch skeptically before slowly reaching out for it. She undid the leather strap that Sachiel had retied around it and peered inside. Her eyes went wide as she inspected the bag's contents.
"One moment, please," she said, pushing the bag back to Sachiel, getting up from her desk and walking away.
Sachiel turned to Ulquiorra who stood there with his eyes on the woman, his hands behind his back.
"Did I do something wrong," she asked him in a low whisper.
"It's fine," he answered.
Just then, a very round man came rushing out to the woman's desk, the woman trotting behind him to keep up with his quick pace.
The man wore a white vest with a pale blue shirt underneath, white slacks and shiny white shoes. Sachiel blinked when she saw him. His skin was tanned but just below his hairline wasn't. His receding hairline showed a light sprinkling of age spots where his pale skin showed through.
As he drew closer to her, she could see that he was sweating despite the cool air, a very large grin on his face. Sachiel felt for a moment as if she were looking at a troll who had just spotted his next meal. She cowered briefly before suddenly ducking behind Ulquiorra.
The man faltered, seeing her expression and reactions. He kept the smile on but retracted his hand.
"Welcome," he said in a cheery tone. "Belinda here said that you wanted to exchange some gold?"
Sachiel peeked out over Ulquiorra's shoulder, her green eyes wide with trepidation.
"My sister has recently come into a coin collection," Ulquiorra offered. "The coins are made out of gold, however. They are quite worn so the markings are no longer distinguishable but yes, she would like to trade in the worst of the lot for money."
"Well," the man said. "My name is Bernard Begay. I'm the bank manager. I'll be more than happy to help you exchange out the coin. There will be a five percent processing fee."
"That will be fine," Ulquiorra answered, pushing the bag of coins across the desk again.
The bank manager took the bag, taking them over to a set of scales. He poured the contents onto the tray. It instantly crashed to the tabletop since there was no counterweight attached to it.
Ulquiorra watched while Sachiel went over to a chair, her face lighting up as she sat down. He watched from the corner of his eye as she began to bounce in the thickly padded chair. He silently rolled his eyes at her actions. She truly did seem like a child here, despite who she was.
He turned his attention back to the bank manager who was approaching him. The man looked nervous, wringing his hands as he stopped in front of the former espada.
"Ah…it would seem…umm…," the man struggled for words. "We don't have enough money here in the bank to cover the trade."
"Why?"
"Well, gold trades for over one thousand dollars per pure ounce," he continued. "What your sister gave us is ninety nine percent pure and it's over ninety five ounces. Ninety six to be exact."
"Is there a problem," Sachiel said, coming up to the two men.
"He said that they don't have enough money in the bank to cover the trade, sister."
"Well can we store it in an account?"
"Yes! We can do that," the bank manager said with relief. "We can give you about fifteen thousand now and hold the rest in an account for you."
"Works for me," Sachiel piped up.
Ulquiorra sighed, moving away from the pair as the bank manager led Sachiel to a seat where they had her fill out paperwork.
He looked out the window in the front of the bank, watching as a dark purple truck came up the street, stopping at the small café across the street. His eyes never left the small girl who came around the truck, her blonde and black hair being tussled by the man who drove the truck. By overhearing her, he had discovered that the short, stout man was her father.
She was wearing long baggy pants, similar to what he had worn in Hueco Mundo, but hers were black. She had long gloves that reached her elbows, also in black and wearing a deep red t-shirt. She had caught his attention purely by the aura that she gave off. It made him curious. She wore jewelry on her face, two on the corners of her lower lip, her eyebrow was also pierced. She wore small studs in different colors all along her ear. She smiled freely even if she did dress differently than the people around the town.
He watched as she entered the café with her father, not hearing Sachiel come up beside him. Sachiel followed his gaze, smiling softly to herself as she watched the pair go into the building together.
"Have you talked to her," she asked him quietly.
He jerked with a start, clearing his throat as he tried to compose himself.
"Who," he asked, trying to be nonchalant.
Sachiel giggled at him, taking his arm and leading him out of the bank. He said nothing to her or commented on where they were going until he saw where they were heading…the café.
"Why are we going in there," he asked her.
"It offers food," she answered. "I'm a bit hungry and could use a cold drink. Besides, it's almost dinner time."
"We're going to eat in there?"
"Well unless you think we can just sit in there and not do anything," she replied with a smile. "Besides, this will be the best place for us to find people to help with the remodeling."
He wasn't sure he trusted that smile.
Yaye! First chapter posted. I'm kicking myself for forgetting how to make changes. blarg. well anyway. Review please. Anonymous reviewing is good too and it's enabled! Yeah...