There was a long-lasting silence in the room as two pairs of eyes looked directly at each other, ignoring the soft intakes of air.
A hand came to grip black pants and ragged breathing was palpable in the atmosphere as a head fell and eyes closed in frustration. Another hand came up to grab on hair, pulling harshly.
The other, sat quietly, watching the other man carefully. His glowing green eyes studied the reactions emitting from the man across him. He crooked his head slightly to the side and knitted his brows in confusion. Even though he had been studying the way humans functioned, there were still unclear things to him, he still did not comprehend them, and he feared he never would - the one thing that had actually managed to intrigue him, he couldn't solve the mystery of. That was truly annoying.
He shook silently. The tall walls were no longer pure white but dyed with the color of remorse, of death, of hate, and of something the calm man couldn't put his finger on. His white robe was ripped and torn, dirtied with blood and grey, his pale skin was covered in blood, and most of his energy gone. His mask had shattered in battle, and he blinked when he saw clear tears run down the other's cheek. Why did humans cry, he would wonder and receive no answer. Did they cry because they hurt? Because he did not have the faintest idea. He brought his hand to his open chest as he kept his gaze on the other man sternly.
"Ichigo Kurosaki," he whispered softly, "there is no point in shedding tears; they will not be coming back." The man indicated as Ichigo looked up, eyes wide, hands shaking.
He looked like he had died on the inside. His arms, hands - his whole body - bruised, cut, scratched. His hair was wild, much like he was just minutes ago. The pale man remained passive as the orange-haired soul reaper knitted his eyebrows in frustration. Here it comes, the pale Arrancar thought before a scream was heard, followed by clamored words towards him. He wasn't quite the fan of loud people since he, always, had kept to himself through his whole meaningless long lifetime.
"Shut up! Someone like you wouldn't understand!" Ichigo hollered. His voice cracked as he tried to stand, legs shaking at the utter movement. Brown eyes met green; he swayed to his left, depicting his soon-to-come fall. The slurping of air echoed within the white walls as the pale Arrancar lifted himself from his sitting position and walked over to the trembling man.
The walls moved, making themselves rearranged. The soft footsteps were heard like loud thunder, and Ichigo, once again, wondered just what kind of place he was in. He remembered when he first came in here, the feeling of solitude invading his senses; it would be such a devastating punishment to be caged within depressing walls.
Ichigo went two steps back as the former Espada came closer to him. "Why would you cry for them? Tell me, why would you fight so hard to protect them? What makes you humans stand up for another? I simply do not comprehend such ludicrous actions," Ulquiorra said slowly and softly. The Arrancar turned to look at the two bodies lying on the floor; both with wounds to their chest. "I've studied you humans ever since they interested me, yet... I can't seem to figure out how they work; it frustrates me."
The substitute soul reaper stared directly at Ulquiorra and remained silent. It wasn't till this very moment that Ichigo felt ashamed and disgusted with himself. If he were only stronger, he wouldn't have had the need for that menacing power, and most importantly, Orihime and Uryu wouldn't have died because of him. His promise to always protect them was broken. They weren't in danger with the Espada, they were in danger when they were with him.
Ulquiorra opened his mouth slightly. "Why are you not answering? Did you not hear me, Kurosaki?" He stretched out his hand, one pale, slender finger coming to touch the center of Ichigo's forehead.
Ichigo froze. Was he actually being serious, Ichigo wondered. He said he lacked heart; and he did (literally), but having a heart also meant showing affection towards another. "Sometimes... having a heart isn't always a good thing. Why do humans cry... Because we care. Simple as that; we care, Ulquiorra." The Arrancar dropped his hand to his side, walking back from where he previously was; he didn't press further communication.
The former Espada slid his eyes shut, taking a slow intake of air through his, slightly, open mouth. He didn't understand, but he could only content himself with that in time, he would be able to grasp just how humans thought; even if just a little. He had time, after all.
Ichigo kneeled down, brown eyes staring frantically at his deceased friends, Uryu and Orihime. Ulquiorra's eyes followed the Substitute Soul Reaper's movement.
Unknown to them, night drew in, and Ichigo hadn't moved. His friends were devoured by the ground, only the scent was left behind; Ichigo felt devastated as he reached his hand out and touched the spot where his friends had been. He failed them, and killed them. Maybe... he should do the same, but even that wouldn't be enough - nothing ever will be. The Cuarta Espada knew this, for the look in the orange-haired man's eyes vaguely told him so.
But, over all, Ulquiorra was growing impatient and frustrated with every passing minute. Thinking enough was enough, he slowly walked over to Ichigo, who was yet to stop mourning. He stopped, solemnly looking down with bored emerald eyes
"Kurosaki, get up. They're gone; why do you keep crying after their death? Everyone dies eventually, Kurosaki; it was only a matter of time," he said softly, reaching a pale hand to grab orange locks of hair. Ulquiorra vaguely went back to the time he first became an Espada, when he was tested in power, when they warned him that death was a very possible outcome.
"Are you okay with that, Ulquiorra?" the man asked. The smirk on his lips stretched. "Are you okay with dying?
"Of course."
Despite all that, he was eagerly awaiting his final intake of a breath, his final blink of an eye - but it never came. He led no reason to strive for existence, he lacked a heart for it; something humans seemed to all hold. He didn't understand why humans would risk their own lives to save another, why they would fight so desperately in order to protect another. And he would silently watch, confusing himself to no end with questions he just didn't have the answer to.
Why they would all cry, mourn over a deceased when to him, if meant nothing. He felt nothing when he'd pierce the chest of another. And out of all those humans or heart-holders, one seemed to intrigue him the most. When he first fought Ichigo, something so profound in him didn't want to simply kill him off but would rather kill his loved ones. Maybe because he somehow hoped he would come to understand, maybe because he would one day contain that valuable organ that gave others strength. Maybe because when he would watch Ichigo fight for his friends' lives and safety he somehow felt closer to the answer. But even with all that, he felt like Ichigo Kurosaki may be the one true opponent that could end his vain existence.
He, just moments ago, was confused; Ichigo had done a great job in doing so. It seemed to him that humans were so fickle that it'd be nearly impossible for him to comprehend. In just short notice, they can go from smiling, to frowning, to crying, to bored - how, he didn't know.
But overall, there was one thing he was able to accept and understand better than any human could ever could, and that was that dying is inevitable.
He brought his hand to grab on orange locks. Ichigo hissed in annoyance, the Arrancar paid no mind to it. He stood, clenching the pale, thin wrist of Ulquiorra and removed it from his hair roughly. "Don't touch me."
Ulquiorra stared. Would Ichigo feel content if he killed himself or someone just as responsible as he was? Would he be capable of ending his pitiful existence? Did Ichigo have the strength to kill someone? He wondered...
He walked away, crossing his arms as he looked upward. "Do you hate me, Kurosaki?" he asked, not meeting the confused eyes of Ichigo's. He had always wondered why humans hesitated to answer so much. A simple yes or no question - even he could answer in a snap.
"No, I don't. I don't have a reason to."
"No, I guess you don't." Ulquiorra moved about the large space, ignoring the fact of a pair of eyes following him. The room declined in temperature and he shivered slightly, his small, vague hairs on his neck standing up, his skin becoming ice as the protection of warmth was no longer with him. He stared up at the walls, bringing the tips of his fingers to touch the blood-stained walls. "But," he started, "it wouldn't hurt. After all, I am to blame for some of what happened."
Ulquiorra looked back at Ichigo. He realized something as the seconds went by: his mouth felt dry. He couldn't fathom on why that bothered him now when it hadn't in the past.
Ichigo remained silent as thoughts went through his mind like a train passing by. He took a few steps forward. "Still, it wasn't you who killed them." He walked further toward the Arrancar until they were mere inches apart.
Ulquiorra made no indication to back up as the Soul Reaper approached him slowly; his aroma strongly invading his senses like a parasite circulating throughout his entire being. Although it felt salient and amiable, it also felt dangerous.
The scent of fresh blood also was still vivid in the air that it sickened him dearly. If he could get a penny for every time he would approach that crimson, he'd be rich. Before he knew it, Ichigo was barely pressed against him. He closed his eyes as he tried to figure out the conundrum in him.
"You wanted to know why humans show affection?" Ulquiorra nodded, feeling a tinge of retort from the back of his head that told him to step away from this man in front of him. He didn't listen - not that he could; he'd nodded before he was even aware of it. All be damned, but when confronted by the Soul Reaper, he always felt vulnerable.
Ichigo brought a hand to the Arrancar's pale face. Ulquiorra parted his lips to say something but was stopped by Ichigo. He swore that if he were a lesser being he'd be melting to the touch. "Shut up. Don't say anything. Just let me show you..." Brown eyes fell to pale lips and reached forward to capture those lips with his own. Ulquiorra was surprised to find that the other's lips were incredibly soft.
Everything at that moment seemed to have lost meaning to him. Unable to restrain any longer, he slid his eyes closed. The movement of warm lips against his own lips was unlike any other thing he'd experienced before. He didn't know what to think.
"Do you, now," Ichigo said, pulling away, " understand, Ulquiorra?" He looked only into those emerald eyes.
"I think I do."