Time
"I'm digging graves for everyone,
And my hand is getting tired from
Writing out this killing spree"
This Broken Killswitch. Boys Night Out
Ulquiorra had all the time in the world, to think, to plan, to wait. First on his list was Grimmjow. Just the thought of Grimmjow made anger, like a black vile wave of acid, sear in the pit of his stomach. Grimmjow had no right to take her out of her room, to use her powers for his own selfish reason. Ulquiorra's hands clenched into fists at his sides. Oh yes, he was going to enjoy tearing Grimmjow limb from limb. A smile threatened to tug at his lips at the thought of only a turquoise haired head and torso left…
How did he let that trash get the better of him? Ulquoirra began to replay the previous minutes before he had become trapped. He had trouble concentrating on the battle, her face kept surfacing in his memories. That face she had given him when he had come to take her back, it was…puzzling. What had it meant when she had turned her eyes from his gaze? What emotion was knitted into her brow? Was it sadness? Was she ashamed? Disappointed? None of these made any sense.
He didn't notice when his own hands slowly lost their tension, or when his anger ebbed away and a new, unfamiliar emotion took its place.
No, it did not make sense for her to feel any of these emotions. She had already begun to heal that orange haired shinigami, she should have sensed his own riatsu mixed in with the shinigami's wounds. Logically, she should have been angry, or at least defiant towards him. Was the shinigami not her friend? Did she not waste her last good-bye with that pathetic specimen? Did she not have deep feelings for- NO!
A strange pain filled his chest. Ulquoirra chose not to analyze it, afraid of what he would find there. Not that he would ever admit this to himself. Instead he began to meditate. He had time, lots of it, and he would use it to plan and wait.