When We Were Young
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When we were young...
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Ulquiorra sat back in his office chair, swiveling so that he now faced away from his desk. With his left hand resting on the armrest and his right hand up to rub his temples, he let out a groan of dissatisfaction.
"Something wrong, Mr. Schiffer?" his assistant, Halibel, asked.
He shook his head, sliding back so that the back of his chair was pressed against the front of his desk.
Halibel looked at him suspiciously but didn't ask again. If he didn't want to share about it, she ought not to know. It didn't help that she found his behaviour odd.
Ulquiorra stared at the cell phone ringing in his lap, debating whether or not he should answer it.
He stared at the name that registered on the screen: Grimmjow. It had been years since they had seen each other. Why was he calling him now?
Ulquiorra contemplated this while he played with the keychain on the end of the phone, the metal plate with the number "four" engraved into it sliding noiselessly between his fingers. It had been a gift.
His mind returned to the incessantly ringing phone and the question returned to his mind again.
To his own grim satisfaction, he could still remember Grimmjow's features exactly—he could still see him in his mind. Had Grimmjow changed? He couldn't help wondering.
Ulquiorra could still remember though. After all, if there was anything Ulquiorra was good at, it was remembering.
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"No," Ulquiorra refused flat out.
"Why not?" Grimmjow asked.
"It's stupid," Ulquiorra replied.
Grimmjow frowned, pulling Ulquiorra closer to him, despite Ulquiorra's protests. "And why is that?" he asked.
Ulquiorra played with Grimmjow's arm, drawing patterns on it with his fingers. "Most of the ideas you come up with are stupid."
Grimmjow grinned. "That's harsh," he said. He then added, "Well, this one isn't stupid."
"By whose standards?" Ulquiorra retorted, looking up at Grimmjow's chin as it rested on his head. He shifted uncomfortably in his lap.
"Mine, of course," Grimmjow answered, nuzzling his chin into Ulquiorra's hair, his eyes closed.
Ulquiorra looked away and remarked, "Your standards are low then."
"You like my low standards," Grimmjow refuted. Ulquiorra had no argument for that. Tentatively, Grimmjow ventured to ask, "Does that mean you'll do it?"
"No," Ulquiorra refused again. "I'm not going to go to that party with you and that's final."
Grimmjow frowned, shaking his head. "Why?"
"It's stupid," Ulquiorra gave the same answer again.
Grimmjow sighed, closing his eyes. "This is getting us nowhere."
Ulquiorra nearly stuck out his tongue but he resisted the childish urge. "Then stop asking me," he bit out.
Grimmjow laughed. "Is little Ulquiorra trying to be fierce?" he teased.
"Don't make fun of my height," Ulquiorra grumbled, "I could beat you up with my hands tied behind my back."
"Is that a challenge?"
Ulquiorra nudged Grimmjow's side with his elbow. "If you want to die, so be it."
"You'd miss me," Grimmjow pointed out. Ulquiorra said nothing.
They both sat in silence for a minute, Ulquiorra admiring the wallpaper of Grimmjow's room.
Suddenly, Grimmjow turned Ulquiorra around, pulling him into a kiss. Ulquiorra, surprised, couldn't quite reciprocate in time before Grimmjow pulled away again. Breathlessly, he pulled Ulquiorra towards the bed, causing him to stumble into Grimmjow's arms.
Ulquiorra gripped Grimmjow's arms hard, confused. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.
"I'll tell you later," he said flippantly, tugging restlessly at Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra shook his head.
"Not later, Grimmjow; tell me now."
Grimmjow's eyes pleaded with Ulquiorra's but Ulquiorra wasn't one to lose that sort of battle.
Grimmjow gave in. He pulled Ulquiorra into his arms, smothering Ulquiorra against his chest. "I'm moving," he murmured.
The words made Ulquiorra's heart stop and he stopped struggling. Though muffled by Grimmjow's shirt, he questioned him, "Where?"
Grimmjow's laugh was bitter. "To America."
Ulquiorra managed to free his head. "Why?" He failed to notice that there were tears leaking from Grimmjow's eyes.
"I made it into Harvard."
Ulquiorra's breath caught. "You did?" His voice was a bare whisper.
Grimmjow nodded. "I have you to thank. I never thought I could."
Ulquiorra didn't hear him though. His mind was focused on the single sentence Grimmjow had stated earlier. "How long?"
Grimmjow bit the inside of his cheek. "Six years," he started awkwardly, "At least."
Ulquiorra's eyes were hard and serious. "And you won't be visiting, I trust?"
"I can't afford the plane tickets to visit."
Ulquiorra pulled away from Grimmjow's embrace that had, since then, loosened. "I see," was all he said.
"I'm sorry—"
Ulquiorra brought a finger to Grimmjow's lips, silencing him. "Don't be sorry. You worked hard."
"I'll come back," Grimmjow promised, "As soon as I can, I'll come back for you."
Ulquiorra made a vague nodding gesture that signified that he doubted Grimmjow.
Grimmjow's eyes narrowed. He knew Ulquiorra didn't believe him. All he could do was kiss him, so he did. "Trust me," he breathed hotly against Ulquiorra's ear.
"I trust you."
Grimmjow then clasped Ulquiorra's hands. For the first time since their relationship had began, he spoke three words that shattered Ulquiorra's world.
"I love you."
Ulquiorra didn't need to repeat those words for Grimmjow to know. His tears were enough.
As Ulquiorra stood outside the airport after having seen Grimmjow off, he started a countdown in his head. "Six years," he repeated steadily. "I can wait six years."
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Ulquiorra smiled as he picked up his cell phone, flipping it open.
The first thing he said into it was, "Eight years, four months, two weeks, and three days. You're a little bit late, Grimmjow." After a brief pause, he added, "Then again, you were always tardy."
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The world was new.
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The End.
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Author's Note(s): This was a contest entry for dA's GrimmUlquiFC's fanfiction contest. That aside, I had "Freshman" by Verve Pipe in mind (I was listening to it as well) while writing this even though the theme is "children". To me, "children" are people who aren't quite adults yet so I think that Grimmjow and Ulquiorra, during the flashback period, can be considered "children". That's probably just me, though...