~Pieces of your heart~

It was only one, he confirmed, his green eyes taking in the sight of the lone figure of a slender female in pure white with a single black ribbon around her waist tied in a bow on the back and a choker clasping her throat. The hilt of a sword was visible over one shoulder and was recognizable as Manga de Blanca Nieve: Sleeve of White Snow.

So this was the fourth. Ulquiorra observed her more closely. Dark hair styled short so that the tips brushed her bare shoulders and slender straps of the halter dress. The neckline though narrow was plunging to reveal the slightest hint of cleavage. But what most drew his eye was the hole where her heart should have been. The absence of it marked her as a Hollow, less so than that for the broken mask of bone adorning her hair like a crown made her an Arrancar.

He looked again.

She was gone.

Her Sonido was fast.

"What were you looking at, Shinigami?"

Ulquiorra felt the curve of a naked blade slide under his jaw and turning his head slightly he encountered the angered gaze of the Arrancar. Large violet-blue eyes stared hatefully into his, her hand encased in a fingerless white glove held the red bound hilt elegantly upward in a way so that gave the impression one wrong move and she'd kill him.

"Thinking of a sneak attack, Shinigami? Is that it?"

"No." he said truthfully. He had no desire to engage in combat so early on in his newly elected tenure as fourth's Lieutenant. It was known that others who had challenged the girl before him had lost so decisively as to make the mere word Espada feared among the seated Shinigami.

Let alone this…

"So is it the dogs of Hueco Mundo know better when they're outclassed, hmm?" she taunted, cocking her head at him coquettishly. Ulquiorra stayed silent. Unperturbed, the girl leaned in closer, tilting her blade away. "I'm guessing you're new. I've never seen you before…Fourth is it? I was acquainted well—you could say with the former." She laughed shortly and it was a cold, cruel sound that trilled past her pale pink lips.

Ulquiorra calculated the odds of being able to release Murushiergo before she attacked him. They weren't good. Her blade still lay near his throat, one word from her and he could frozen solid or cut to pieces with her white moon dance. Neither option appealed to him.

Now he fervently wished he had allowed Lieutenant of sixth, Jeagerjaques to accompany him.

Maybe with another's help, escape might have been possible.

He sensed her watching him and attempted to keep his expression blank, unafraid. Fear it was said was what the fourth Arrancar in the Espada liked to glimpse on her victims faces.

Suddenly he felt the finely honed edge of cold metal graze the side of his throat, something trickled down his collarbone; her hand swiped at something. Satisfied, she stepped away. One had created a dimensional rip whose presence Ulquiorra hadn't felt at all. A long lean boy with a head of bright orange hair scowled down at her.

"Oi, Rukia! Where were you? I looked everywhere for you!" Then the newcomer noticed Ulquiorra and sighed, rolling his amber eyes tiredly to the heavens. "Didn't Urahara tell you not to be wandering so far from Seireitei anymore?"

The girl smiled up at him innocently, "he did? I didn't remember. You won't tattle on me, will you, Ichigo?" The boy shook his head irritated, "let's just go." Without another look back they left.

Ulquiorra stayed still for a moment then raised his hand to his neck where he had been cut. The uneven tendrils of his hair brushed the back of his hand and he realized then what she had done. "A lock of hair?" he muttered aloud.

~Seireitei~

Rukia threaded her fingers in between the lock of stolen hair, a smirk curving her mouth. They walked down the hall to the Throne room; Ichigo never noticing her preoccupation with what lay in her palm.

She always took something of the ones she had chosen to hunt.

*~*

Note: Don't own Bleach.

Thanks for reading—NO FLAMES—reviews are always appreciated.