From Opposite Ends of the Spectrum
Blue and Green
Life and Death
I can't do it anymore. I can't stand to look into those eyes—those dead eyes. They're always dead. I can't even fathom why, but they are and I can't stand to look into them—not one bit. I can't stand to see just how dead they are—how little he feels. It cuts like no blade has ever cut me before. I can't pretend I don't see it, either. Somehow, still, I find myself constantly looking to those eyes, hoping for something more—something that will never be there. That's why I can't stand to look into them anymore.
Who does he think he is? He acts like he owns the place when he is even below even me in rank. What gives him the right to do the things he does? He is so self-righteous that it is disgusting but I can't keep myself away from him. I can't help it—I'm desperate to stop all this emotion. It's not like me. And, it hurts even more to know that when he looks at me, he doesn't see me. To him, I'm just another enemy—another rival he has to beat to get to the top. I can't believe that it hurts. It's unbelievable—a pain that won't heal; a missing piece that I cannot regenerate. What gives him the right to hurt me?
Those eyes are like mirrors—I can see myself in them but they don't see me. I'm just another person—I'm just trash. That's all I am to him—trash. And, he openly reveals it, too. As if that wasn't bad enough, I just know he knows. If he doesn't, he's just too stupid to take a hint. And, I know he's not stupid—he's anything but stupid. I just know that he can see everything I'm feeling—every emotion—and that he can read my thoughts and even the slightest movement I have with those scrutinizing eyes of his—that penetrating gaze. It's beyond reflective of who I am, he knows.
Why is he so alive? How does he find the energy—no, the vigor—to keep up such bitter rivalry? Even I find it tiring. After all, I don't like the enmity between us. I'm sure he doesn't mind, though. He'll never know—I'll never let him know. He can't possibly know—I'll never stand for it. If he knew...it would be the end of me—he doesn't feel the same. We're bitter rivals and he makes a show of it, too—rivals until the very end. Sometimes, though, I wish he knew—I wish he felt the same way. But, sometimes, more so than not, I find myself wishing he didn't feel the same. After all, what good comes from loving an emotionless person?
I'd do anything to get his attention. All the defiance; all the snarky comments—I just want him to see me; to acknowledge my existence as an individual because all that I've seen so far isn't much to show for. After all, I'm still trash to him—I don't even count as a person. I wish he'd notice me—I would do anything. I'm already doing everything I can think of. Maybe, if I ran up to him and yelled in his face; if I grabbed his hand and forced him to look at me, he would notice me. I can't do that, though. It is beyond what my pride will allow—my stupid, baseless pride.
I know how much he hates me—he is such a hateful person, in general. I know it's not just me but I can't help but feel like it's me in particular he targets as an object of hatred. I hate that feeling—hate. No, I hate all feelings but, I don't understand this, I want him to feel something besides rage and hate towards me—something like...love. After all, what good is it if I am the only one who feels this way?
I wish I knew what he thought—what he hides behind those empty eyes. I don't think it's nothing. Sometimes, I can't help but feel that there's nothing more to him beyond those dead eyes—beyond the lack of emotion; beyond "Aizen-sama". That's probably the real reason I despise Aizen-sama so much—he's the only one Ulquiorra cares about. I guess I'm just jealous, how typical. I really suck at this, huh? Maybe, I'm just fooling myself—maybe he really feels nothing.
Those blue eyes are always flashing and vivid—every image of him is bright in my mind—I can't get him out of my head. I wish I didn't love him. I really wish I didn't—it hurts so much...so why do I still feel that way? I hate this pain. It makes me feel weak—weaker than I already am. I know he's stronger than me—he has strength I can only to hope to have. What could he possibly see in me? No, he doesn't see anything more to me than another step up the ladder—another obstacle he can't stand not surpassing. I won't ever let him surpass me—if he ever does, he'll stop looking at me. He is always looking up. He never looks down to see how high he already is—it's always higher and higher. I don't mind, though. I want to be what he sees—what is above him. So, I'll keep him below me so he can keep looking up—looking at me. Still, he's climbing slowly and surely. I'll never let him pass me—I need to keep climbing to keep up with his pace so he'll always look at me and no one but me.
I don't know how this all started. Was it because I wanted to beat him—I wanted to be better than him? I think that's the root of it all. It started out as a bitter rivalry, I'll admit as much. Then, it turned to absolute hatred and loathing of him—the very sight of him would make me gag. But, I couldn't help observing him—always trying to find a weakness. I couldn't find one—I still can't find one. There isn't a single crack in that armor that I can use for my benefit. How he does it is still a mystery to me. His walls—his defenses—are so high up. I always watched—I still do—him to find just one small crack. Soon, it turned into an obsession—I could never get him off of my mind. Then, it was out of hatred but it all changed. Through all my observations I finally noticed how beautiful he was—as graceful as a bird in flight. From then on, I could never turn away from him—I think it all started then and there.
Why do I feel like this? Of all people, why him? I don't understand it. Is it because we're so different—because polar opposites—I'm so dead and he's so very alive? Or, perhaps, it is because I'm so broken and so weak and he's so strong—he has true strength beyond that of physical abilities. I wish I had that strength—the bearing that he holds. Of course, I also wish I didn't. I need to revel in that strength that only he has. Even if I had it, it wouldn't be the same—only him; only ever him. He makes it special—only for him, does it matter. Sometimes, I wish that weren't true. Why is it only him?
I still can't believe that I fell for him. Why him, of all people? He's such a highstrung little bastard; such a cruel person. So, why him? Why did I have to fall for him? I'm such an idiot—such a fucking idiot. Somehow, I don't think I mind, though. If I'm a fucking idiot for falling in love with him, I most definitely want to be a fucking idiot. I can't explain it, really.
I could never mind loving him. It hurts, it breaks, it is idiotic, it is pointless—it will never get me anywhere—but, I know well, that does not stop me from feeling it—that does not stop me from not regretting it. No matter how much I want to rid myself of these useless emotions; no matter how much I don't want these feelings, I know that I would die a little more if I lost them—my only solace—I would fall to becoming nothing more than a hollow, heartless weapon made and born only for the purpose of killing and no other—for Aizen-sama. Somehow, I know, inside of me, I no longer want that—I no longer wish to be just a tool. It doesn't mean I mind fighting for Aizen-sama, though. No, I do not fight for power like he does, I fight out of loyalty and obligation—an obligation I gave myself and an obligation I shall fulfill until the end of my days. But, there is something more, now. And, he is that "something more".
I could never regret loving him,
Sexta Espada,
Cuarta Espada,
Grimmjow Jeagerjaques,
Ulquiorra Schiffer,
Whoever he wishes to address himself as,
I know that it wouldn't matter—it doesn't matter anymore,
I'm in love and I can't change it.
No matter how much I want it to,
I know it won't change even if I want it to.
But, I don't mind.
Because he will never feel the same,
Because he will never love me,
Because I am dead,
Because I am "trash",
But, that hardly matters.
So, what if it is an unrequited love?
It doesn't change a thing.
After all, he is beautiful,
He is strong,
He is cold and cunning,
He is warm and hot-headed,
I don't mind and I never will,
That I love him,
So, I'll never let it change,
I'll never let him stop looking at me,
I'll never let him go,
Because I love him,
Whoever he is,
Reckless as he is,
Aizen-sama's little puppet,
Power-driven fool,
Ulquiora Schiffer.
Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.