Written because I hate Tite Kubo sometimes.
Summary: "I had often heard people say that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. What nonsense."
Warnings first: SPOILERSPOILERSPOILERS for the manga UP TO chapter 352, which is, at time of writing, the current chapter. ARGH WHY KUBO? WHY GIVE ME HOPE AND THEN... Grr.
Is it a deathfic? Well, in my mind, no. But, make of it what you will. If you want to bash me for it, then no, it is not a deathfic. But if that's the ending you like the best, then it is. Interperet it your own way.
It's slightly AU... Very, very slightly.
Pairings: UlquiHime (UlquiorraxOrihime), and some one-sided light IchiHime (IchigoxOrihime) if you squint REALLY REALLY HARD. Since I actually hate IchiHime despite it being partway-canon, it's very light indeed. (I just don't think it works. Ichigo only sees her as a friend.)
Style: This is Ulquiorra-centric and in first person. I did use the manga for guidance (although I was trying to avoid spoiling myself as much as possible and skipped through it, so I may have missed the odd scene here and there. I only want to know about Ulquiorra).
I was writing in a different style to normal in this fic because I was trying to capture the way Ulquiorra thinks. It was... Quite hard, and I may not have succeeded totally, I'm sorry...
If you think Ulquiorra is OOC, well. Perhaps he changes as the story progresses. But do point it out if you see it, especially at the beginning. When I write stories this long, I occasionally slip, and the only person who's read this is a friend of mine who doesn't read Bleach, and is only an Ulquiorra convert because I ranted at him about it for half an hour solid (is that an achievement, to convert someone to loving a charrie in a series they've never seen? Or is that just... Worryingly obsessed? Oo)
Total Word Count: 16,784 words. That's why it's split into two even though it's a oneshot. There's a limit to how much people can read at once, I think. I'm trying to keep the scrollbar reasonable...
Disclaimer: I do not own BLEACH. It belongs to Tite Kubo. Believe me, if I did own Bleach, I would not be losing hair over the possible fate of my most-favourite character in the series. Please, Kubo, please don't kill him. Pleasepleaseplease. I will do anything. I mean this. Anything.
[Hollow]
I remember, once, when I was a new Hollow, they told me that I needed to die.
There was no reasoning in it, really. All they said was that I needed to die. So I asked them why.
They seemed surprised. Because I was a Hollow, they said, that was reason enough. So I asked them why they did not need to die, if I did. They told my I did evil, I consumed souls. I told them that they killed Hollows; did that not make them evil? Why I, and not they?
I was young, and foolish, but not as much as those two Soul Reapers, who did not live to grow much older.
I despised them. They who condemned me because I was what I was. They who hunted me for trying to stay alive. They who blamed me for their own failing, for not reaching me and sending me on before the other Hollows caught me. I abhorred them. Those who hunted me because I did not die. I loathed them. They who told me that I could not love, because I did not have a heart, so I was not worth saving.
I detested them. Hated them. Despised, loathed, abhorred, resented, cursed them. They were anathema.
And yet, I would turn to one of them to save me.
The way I clawed my way up to become a Vasto Lorde was almost pitiful. Once I knew I could, I fell upon the other Hollows with a single, bloody-minded determination. They were the reason I was so hated. They had made me what I was. So I carved a swathe through Hueco Mundo, tearing apart Hollow-Souls and subsuming them. I would do anything. Anything to be away from the Soul Reapers who hunted me. Anything to be safe and still who I was.
So I became power. I became fear. I became a Vasto Lorde.
I remained Ulquiorra.
I remember the first taste of Soul Reaper in Hueco Mundo. I remember the flare of anger I felt flash through me, how dare they, how dare they cross over to our own realm to kill us? I was all and ready to kill him, fire and flame and cero, but he stopped my claws with a finger and did not draw his zanpaku-to. A finger. That was all it took. I quietened my rage in the face of this new and unusual threat – I was so angry, then. So bestial. Such an animal.
He offered me power. He could give me everything, he said. A proper name, a true face again, a sword, and vengeance. I responded that I had the first, the second and third were irrelevant and I would give him my life and servitude for a chance at the fourth.
It was exactly what he wanted.
He took me to a palace, Las Noches. It was in a part of Hueco Mundo I had never visited, a part where the other Hollows did not know of the raging beast I had been. A place where they did not fear me – for the endless, dark desert was large indeed.
He showed me a device he had, the Hogyoku. With it, he said, he could make me powerful. He could tear off all of my mask and leave me unharmed. It would give me a zanpaku-to. But, most importantly of all, it would make me strong and sane combined.
I needed no time to think.
Unharmed, as it turned out, was perhaps too strong a word for it. I was left intact, but the pain, oh, the pain. I was left with a good part of my mask on the left side of my face. I still had my Hollow hole – in my heart, of course, because I had no heart. I was not worthy of the same sort of life as those who did.
I was left for a while to experiment with my newfound powers, once I had told Lord Aizen my name. Ulquiorra, I said, and he had chuckled and called it strangely fitting. I looked at the sword in my hand, the sword that had been the symbol of my hatred, my loathing, and resolved that I would not become an animal again. I would be calm, emotionless. I would face everything as it came and I would not back down. No longer would I abhor, loathe, detest. There was no need. They were all simply… Trash to me. Pathetic in the face of my power.
I became Espada cuatro – four. I was one of the more perfect Arrancar, Lord Aizen said. I did not push myself and had traded power for another sort, so I was not the strongest, but I had the tactical advantage, and perhaps another. I did not wish to reveal it as yet. Keep your friends close and enemies closer, and those that you do not know furthest away of all. I had my secrets. I suspected most of us did – above number 9, that is. The rest were either dumb fools or too shallow and desperate for power. Yammi was one of the former. Luppi was one of the latter. Neither were my friends, although Yammi always accompanied me and could be classed as an acquaintance. Occasionally his health concerned me – when he was foolish or weak enough to be hurt. But were he to die, I would not cry. Were they all to die, I would not mourn. They meant nothing to me, not even Lord Aizen.
…They were all trash.
Lord Aizen seemed to know that I gave my strength to he who made me simply because I remained uncontested in that regard. Were I to be defeated by the once-hated Soul Reapers, I would die or be theirs. That was the way my allegiance worked. And I knew Soul Reapers – Soul Reapers all in black, with black in their hearts, the hearts that supposedly made them so superior. I knew that, were I to be defeated, I would die. I would never be theirs. They would never sully their hands with me or my kind. Rather I be left to rot, and spit on my filthy hollow corpse.
So I was Lord Aizen's until death.
On occasion, I travelled to the human world on Lord Aizen's request. The human world was full of weaklings, garbage. I never bothered to raise my blade to them. That was the difference between myself and all the other fools – they always had to fight, no matter what. They did not seem to realise that when one picked on weaklings, the stronger, true fighters emerged to defend them. The humans were trash. Even the Soul Reaper was – at that point in time – trash. Only when Yammy provoked them did a Captain come out, and even then I did not participate, except to stop Yammy killing himself on their swords. Instead, I observed. Observation was the key to victory. Know thine enemy, how he moves and fights. Only by watching, analysing, and testing the waters can one be victorious against a strong foe. Even as a full Hollow I had watched. Perhaps that was why my eyes could see and show. Perhaps that was why the other Arrancar hadn't realised that my eyes regenerated much faster than theirs would, and that the rate of regeneration was linear across the whole body.
Perhaps they were all fools.
I was set to capture the girl I had seen during my trip. She was fearful, but stood as if to counter her fear. She was weak on the outside, but within her heart lay tremendous strength. She believed in her friends, but had trouble believing in herself.
She was easy to catch. The Soul Reapers were all uneducated fools, leading her as good as unprotected through the vulnerable passage. I destroyed them – a necessary waste – and took her back with me to Las Noches. I presumed Lord Aizen would have immediate use for her.
I was incorrect.
Lord Aizen locked her in a room. His Lieutenant, Gin, came to see me and informed me that I was to look after her. This I could easily accomplish, but I did wonder that I was not being used in other ways. They knew that I did not fight unless absolutely necessary, but was I that unimportant to them?
I had decided by then to shrug off foolish human metaphors and say that her strength was in her soul. How could you truly say that something lay in someone's heart when we Arrancar felt such things, too? Although the lower Hollows were capable only of base, simplistic emotions, we were, to all intents and purposes, people on a level with them. Much higher a level in some cases. If you were to have a conversation with myself, or Stark, or even Grimmjow, then have a conversation with a Soul Reaper, some people would rate the Soul Reaper the less intelligent, the less human. Somehow, it all came back to the humans. The weak little humans, who did nothing but live for a short while, then die. Only when they died were they worth anything, it seemed, yet everything we did was centred around them.
This I still had trouble understanding.
"Miss Inoue," I greeted, standing in the doorway. "You are looking well." She spun around, startled and concerned by my sudden greeting.
"H-how long have you been there?!" She demanded. I repressed a sigh at her antics.
"A few moments," I responded calmly enough. "You must try not to get worked up over such little things." I walked into the room, her eyes watching me the whole way. Always she tried to incite more than the cold in me, although I doubt she ever did it on purpose, especially in those early days.
"Why are you here?" She demanded. I ran my eyes over her, appraising nothing more than the clothing, unlike what most would likely have looked at her for.
"It suits you," I remarked. "You are one of us now." I sighed softly, barely noticeably. "I am here because I have something to tell you." I paced to the window, hands in my pockets. She didn't watch me. "Your allies have invaded Hueco Mundo," I continued, turning back to pace the other way. "They have been here for a few hours and are making progress." I heard her gasp, and she turned to look at me.
"Why?" She whispered. Her eyes held fear, hope, despair, all manner of conflicting emotions. I watched this. Perhaps it was in the eyes that these emotions should show themselves, not in the heart. Unusual. Controversial. But reasonable. After all, I was not certain what defined an Arrancar's soul, if we possessed such things. But the eyes… Almost all creatures had eyes, save for Aaroniero, and he was something of an exception on many terms.
"Why?" I repeated, stopping and turning to face her. Her eyes held mine – there was power in the eyes of many people. "I would not think I should need to tell you." Still she held my gaze, waiting and defiant. "They have come to rescue you," I finished, watching for her reaction, but she turned away from me so I could not see the look in her eyes. I shrugged, and turned away.
"…They came… For me…" She whispered. Irritation flickered in my eyes, if only for a second.
"It should mean nothing to you," I informed her coldly. "You are already ours." I heard her turn, but remained stood where I was.
"…Yes, Sir," she responded softly. I felt something inside me change, and turned. I had been given orders, and I would carry them out to the letter.
"Tell me," I ordered. "Tell me why you exist."
"To serve Lord Aizen, and his will," she replied, and our eyes met.
When she did incite more than the cold in me, she never meant it.
That is what I told myself.
She has broken, I realised as I walked away. But still dismay showed in her eyes. Does she still feel for the Kurosaki boy? She could not kiss him when she said goodbye to him. I was musing, I realised that at the time, but it made me feel better, all the same. That strange feeling that she incited within me was impossible to place, and I was distracting myself from it by thinking of other things. She does not just say these things to satisfy me. She means them, at least in part. Perhaps, then…
"Yo, Ulqui," a voice greeted. I paused.
"Nnoitra," I greeted; my voice even. I did not bother to turn, although perhaps it would have been polite. It matters little. He is dead now.
"Been to see your little Princess?" He mocked. I paid little attention to this. He and I both knew that it was my duty to care for her. His comments were nought but the pointless posturing of a misogynist. "How have you been getting around to training her?" He continued. I turned at this. Anger, the kind of old anger I had felt as a full Hollow, had flared in me for barely a second. I beat it down, meeting him instead with my cool, steady gaze.
"…Degenerate scum," I informed him coldly. Nnoitra was a waste of my breath.
Nnoitra was trash.
I spent a little time thinking on my brief meeting with Orihime. My curiosity had been piqued – she interested me. Her abilities were unique, and to find them in a human was so… Strange, so impossible. She seemed to have adapted fine to the world of Hueco Mundo despite a less-than-perfect transfer. She was a prisoner and a slave, but a comrade, and she looked me in the eye with the arrogance of someone who thought me their equal, or at least someone who would not give in to my superior strength. Why? I did not know. I am not sure I ever will. No, indeed I never shall.
I found a lower-rank Arrancar, of the type who had stitched Yammy's arm back on, although clearly not the same one. I ordered her to prepare some food, food fit for a human. She seemed surprised, but, to her credit, simply bowed her head and did as asked without even a questioning look. Perhaps she was afraid of me. It would make perfect sense. I was Espada cuatro, of course.
I knocked on the door before entering this time, remembering her startled and offended reaction.
"I'm coming in," I called through the door. No response, but she had been warned, so I opened the door and entered. She was stood looking out of the only window in the room, the cold, white moonlight hitting her and making her hair shine like a golden aurora. Mentally, I rebuked myself for such foolish similes. What did it matter how she looked? She was there to be used as Lord Aizen saw fit, was she not? She was a prisoner, was she not?
The look on her face was of sadness, a sadness so acute it brought those strange feelings in me to the surface once more. I stuck my hands in my pockets and walked over to her.
"You've noticed," I remarked. "That fool Nnoitra acted outside of his jurisdiction. He was ordered to wait, but-"
"Chad's not dead," she told me, cutting across me recounting of events. I stopped. She already had the nerve to challenge my authority, to speak when not given permission? She was defiant indeed. Still, I did not rebuke her for it, simply looked to the side and considered things. "He's not dead!" She repeated, a hint of desperation in her voice. I turned my eyes to her, but not myself. There were no tears, but perhaps she was holding them back. Still, it was irrelevant, and I wanted no more to do with the conversation. I turned away and walked to the door.
"You may enter," I told the Arrancar I had found earlier. She pushed the food into the room, bowed, and left as hurriedly as was polite. That was the correct way for Orihime to act, but she did not. I did not understand it. She was human. She was weak by definition… By definition? Definition was what made all Hollows evil. I turned back to her, resolving to think upon the matter later. "Eat," I told her. She met my eyes once more.
"…I'm not hungry," she replied eventually. I sighed – a short, sharp noise of irritation.
"You must eat," I responded. "Otherwise you will wither and die." She looked at me still, and I searched for another reason. "It is your duty to Lord Aizen to preserve your life," I settled on. Still she was silent, and made no move towards the food. This irritated me somewhat, and I frowned at her. "You will eat," I told her. "Even if I must force it down your throat, or give it to you intravenously. You will not die here." In her eyes, her surprise showed, but she did not let it win over her.
"…He's not dead," was her only answer. I sighed once more. She was so irritatingly persistent, so attached, so foolishly devoted to those she had left behind. She was our ally now. They did not matter.
"It matters not whether he is dead or alive," I informed her, walking over, hands still in my pockets. "Would you like me to tell you 'don't worry, I'm sure he's alive'? Such words would be pointless." She did not respond. "I am not here to comfort you," I told her, somewhat coldly, but something in her eyes made me leave that line of argument. She stirred up a strange, unfamiliar and unwanted feeling in me – guilt, perhaps; although by rights I had nothing to feel guilty for. I started to pace back and forth along an invisible line, always the same distance from her and her intense, soulful gaze. "You are so focused on life and death," I continued. "It is foolish. Sooner or later, they will all be killed. If that is one step closer, it matters not." I waved one hand to the side to emphasise this. "This should have been obvious to them," I continued, and she looked at me, her eyes saddened.
"…Stop it," she requested softly. I almost did. But a part of me was riled at her strange feelings, feelings she needed to be rid of, as we were, so I continued on with my argument.
"If they came here without knowing our strength, all the fault is theirs," I told her. "Laugh them off as fools, can you not do that? If our positions were reversed, and my friends had come for me and found themselves in this situation, I would not cry for them. I would be infuriated by their stupidity." I saw something in her eyes snap. She clenched her fists. Quickly, at a not-quite-run, she closed the distance between us and brought her hand around to meet my face. The noise echoed in the empty room, the force of it catching me by surprise and forcing my head to the side. It hurt. None of the Arrancar in Hueco Mundo had made me hurt before, so that made this small, frail human the first one to cause me any sort of pain since my making. I turned my eyes, but did not move my head, once more. She was crying. That surprised me. Why cry? She had not cried when she felt her friend's reiatsu fade. She had not cried when I had called them fools. She had not cried when she was taken and forced to say goodbye. So why, why did she cry when she raised her hand to me in anger? I turned properly. If she had been any other Arrancar I would have retaliated, or at least reported them to Lord Aizen for their insolence. But standing there, watching her tears, her sorrow, and her determination, I could not even rebuke her. Words simply failed me. The idea of hurting her was alien to me. An act of retribution was worthless. Striking me had been punishment in itself. She expected it, though, for me to return it, I could see it in her eyes.
Instead, I turned sharply on the spot and walked to leave.
"I will return in one hour," I told her, pausing and turning to look at her. "If you have not eaten by then, I shall bind you and force you to eat. I shall not allow you to die. You can rely upon that, at least." I hesitated in the doorway. "And if you focus harder, you will find that he is in fact not dead, but the fact is pointless to you besides." I turned once more and shut the door sharply, before raising a hand to my stinging face and rubbing it slightly. Regeneration would not ease the pain, although it would leave me unmarked. How foolish. How stupid. How ridiculous. How human. What was she doing to me? I did not understand. I still don't.
I heard her sobs through the closed door and lowered my hand, the pain forgotten. I lingered by the door, debating whether to go in, but in the end dismissed it as foolish. As I had said, I was not there to comfort her.
But some part of me wanted to ease her pain regardless.
I returned on the hour as I had promised. She was expecting me this time, and had ruthlessly reigned in her emotions, showing none of the sorrow she had shown before. The food was, unexpectedly, gone.
"…Thank you," she whispered to me. This caught me off-guard; it was the last thing I had expected her to say.
"For what?" I inquired, moving over to check that she had in fact eaten, and was not simply hiding the food to fool me.
"For… For telling me… About… About Chad," she elaborated, her hands clasped together. "I-I can still feel him. He's… Still alive. They all are." I inclined my head.
"For now, they are," I agreed. "Because, currently, they do not pose a threat. You have eaten. That is good. You must preserve your strength."
"Why… Do you care?" She asked me suddenly. I frowned. She was not supposed to question me. This was entirely out of order. I turned to her.
"I do not care," I responded bluntly enough. The look in her eyes brought up that feeling once more – I had correctly identified it as guilt before, although why I felt it now was a mystery to me. "I am keeping you alive because I have been ordered to do so." She shook her head.
"No," she replied. "You let me say goodbye. You tell me all the time, what is happening to them. You keep me safe from the others. You don't want me to die. You… Reassured me about Chad."
"It is my job," I repeated. "That is all." I saw her eyes go to the side of my face, where she had hit me, and she walked up.
"You aren't hurt?" She asked. I shook my head.
"You damaged very little, save perhaps my pride," I responded. "I must leave. I have things to do."
"Like?" She asked. This question was soft, as if she knew she was pushing the limits of what I would allow. Perhaps she was testing me. Wanting to see how far she could push me before I snapped. She seemed to be unaware that I never snapped.
"That is none of your concern," I told her. "If Lord Aizen calls on me, I shall be defending Las Noches from the intruders. All of your friends seem to possess a remarkable survival capability. But I will warn you, they will not hope to stand against me." Orihime seemed torn.
"I-If you fight Ichigo-" she started.
"If I fight Ichigo," I cut her off, "I will kill him if he is worth killing. I will spare him if he knows when to surrender. I will fight him if he attempts to obstruct me in my duty." For some reason, that old anger flared in me at the look in her eyes. Concern for Ichigo. She did not care what happened to me, so long as her Ichigo was safe. Why? Why did she care for him so? Why did he matter to her, and I did not? Why was he, one who was her enemy now, so dear to her? So close to her heart?
That was it. He had a heart. That made him superior to me in her eyes. Of course.
"…Thank you," she replied softly. That made the anger flare up again.
"Do not thank me," I told her curtly. "I am only doing my job." I turned and walked away, signalling for someone to take the now-empty tray of food away, angry and roiling inside and not really knowing why.
I sat down and thought for a while. Mostly thinking on Orihime, and why she was the way she was.
It was clear to me after a while that my initial thoughts had been made with a clouded mind. Such reasoning had been foolish, and that I was even thinking that way troubled me. She moved me to feel more than the cold I had instilled in myself. Why was that?
She loved Ichigo. Her feelings for him were so strong they burned with a vicious fire. She believed in him with everything she had. Her life, her soul, her power, everything, she was putting into his hands. She truly thought that he would rescue her, that he would fight his way through fire, through fog, through anything to carry her safely home.
She also harboured some sort of feeling for me, although whether in a negative or a positive light, it was hard to say. She trusted me, at least. She believed that if I promised to spare Ichigo, I would. She also thought that I would do it if she asked, like a friend would. Perhaps I would, but it was still foolish to ask it of me, her captor. A phrase I had not used since my living life came to mind – Stockholm Syndrome. Perhaps that was it. But no, she was far too strong for that. She held to her own beliefs. She had healed Grimmjow out of gratitude, not because she belonged to us. It was strange to me. It was likely strange to the others, as well.
Time/space regression. Did that mean she could bring back the dead? If she could return an arm, could she return a corpse? I doubted it. Nothing could bring back the dead once they had passed on, could it? Once they had been reborn. But still, her power was so unusual, so strange. I wanted to learn more about it. About her.
I also wanted to test Ichigo. I wanted to know if he was worthy of her love, her devotion. If his strength could match her determination. If he loved her the way she loved him.
I walked the short way down to the entranceway, and was surprised to find Gin sat at the corridor controls. That meant they had got further than I had anticipated.
"Who is it?" I asked. "Have they got far?" Gin turned, apparently surprised, then laughed when he saw that it was me.
"Now ain't this rare!" He remarked. "You comin' an' chattin' with me? This mean you don' hate me?"
"Never," I replied, as was expected, my eyes closed and head bowed respectfully. He just laughed at my display of obedience, as though he could care less either way. I opened my eyes to see him running his fingers over the screen.
Changing things?
"Well, if that's so, maybe you should come an' talk to me some more," he suggested, twisting around in his chair to look at me, that smile fixed in place on his face still. I was not the only one amongst us that wore a mask, it seemed. "Been ever so lonely since Luppi went an' died on me." I ignored him, instead looking at the screen beneath his fingers.
"…Is that…?" I started, slightly surprised despite myself. He grinned.
"Yep," he replied. "'S alright. You ever seen these before?"
"…The corridor controls… Are you…?" I asked, seeing him change them before my eyes, making the corridors easier to navigate. That was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
"Oh, no, I wouln' do owt mean like that!" He replied, deliberately misinterpreting my words. My eyes narrowed, if only slightly. "'Sides, I hate sad stories," he added, turning to look at me once more. My eyes flicked down to the new configuration, memorising it.
"…I see," I responded levelly. "So the intruders… Are here?" I pointed to a point on the map, and his grin widened slightly.
"Ichigo and the kid Hollow that's been followin' him around are," he replied. "Heading for… Oh, around here, I guess." His hand waved in the direction of Orihime's cell almost absently. This time, the narrowing of my eyes was noticeable, and I think it was what made him laugh. "Tell ya what, Ulqui, since you're so het up about it, you can do Lord Aizen a favour," he suggested. I looked at him levelly. "You can go and turn the boy back the other way, how about that?" He offered. That was exactly what I wanted, and he knew it. Was I his, as much as I was Aizen's? I could not read his face at all. I did not know what he truly wanted. It confused me.
My only consolation, as I turned and walked off with a noise of confirmation, was that very few understood me, either.
As soon as I neared the top of the stairs, I felt him. His reiatsu was wild and, disappointingly, slightly weary. He was tired, perhaps he had been fighting. No matter. He was weak now. Pathetic. Trash. That frustrated me somewhat. He was nothing, and Orihime put her faith in him? He was pathetic, and Orihime valued his life over mine? Ridiculous. Ridiculous.
The almost painful flash of Aaroniero's last moments hit me just before I reached the stairs. I paused to take them in… So, the Kuchiki girl was dead? That would hit Orihime hard. The Kuchiki girl had been one of the people she had considered using her goodbye on. I thought that they were good friends.
Oh well.
I paused at the top of the stairs, and his head instantly snapped up to look at mine. I saw the recognition flash in his eyes, and the quickly repressed fear. Fear. Good.
I started to walk down the stairs.
"Y-you…" He stammered. "…Ulquiorra! You're Ulquiorra!"
"You remember my name?" I remarked, still pacing down the stairs at my normal pace. "Strange, since I don't remember telling you it." I made a slight noise of amusement. "No matter." I placed one foot upon the floor. "Rukia Kuchiki is dead." The look in his eyes was identical to Orihime's after she felt Sado fade. Fear and disbelief.
"…Bullshit," he replied eventually. "You're not even fighting her, how the hell can you know?" I sighed. They truly knew nothing. They were pathetic, utter garbage. How did they think they could win?
"The Ninth Espada is dead," I told him. "One of his abilities and duties is to convey information about those he is fighting – to all of his allies at once." Including Orihime. "Both he and Rukia Kuchiki were impaled upon a spear, and her body had multiple lacerations. She is dead." Despite the certainty in my voice, I was not, in all truth, totally certain of the fact. I had survived this long by being conservative, and the human boy had survived despite all evidence pointing to the contrary. She could well be alive. But it would not do Ichigo any good to know this.
I saw the look in his eyes falter. He had felt her reiatsu drop to almost minimal proportions at the same time as I had felt the Ninth Espada die, and he had relayed it to us. He did not want to believe, he was desperately trying to prove wrong all the empirical evidence with belief. How foolish.
I would believe that Rukia Kuchiki was dead when I saw her cold corpse in front of me, and nothing else. But what would Orihime think?
Ichigo started to walk away. I almost couldn't believe it. I had him, here, in front of me, he was so close to Orihime, and he was walking away from her?
"Where are you going?" I demanded icily.
"To save Rukia," he replied, without turning. Anger flashed through me.
"I told you she is dead," I told him levelly.
"I don't believe you," he returned. The boy was frustrating beyond belief.
"So you are leaving without killing me first?" I asked, although the idea of him killing me was laughable. "How pathetic."
"I have no reason to fight you," he replied. "You're an enemy, but you haven't hurt any of my friends. So why should I kill you?" So, he thought with mercy. How strange. Still, I was here to fight him – to 'turn him around', Gin had said, which technically I had done, but I wanted to fight him, to test him, despite the fact that doing so was somewhat foolish and unnecessary. I wanted to know if he was worthy of her.
"I see," I murmured, and he paused to look at me. "What if I told you that I was the one who brought Orihime Inoue to Hueco Mundo?" I watched his expression change. His face twisted into blind anger. "She is close by. Will you abandon her here?" I continued.
He was on me in a flash – his grasp of Shunpo was rather impressive. I blocked his sword with my hand.
"So she didn't come of her own will," he growled. This surprised me. Why come to rescue someone if were not completely sure they weren't a traitor?
"So even her friends had some doubt in their hearts," I remarked. "How pathetic."
"It's your fault!" He exclaimed. "Your fault she was branded a traitor!" I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
"Of course," I replied. "Otherwise we would have made a mistake." His growl was animalistic, Hollow-like, and he cursed me. Loudly.
Perfect.
"So, have you found… A reason to fight me?" I asked, almost uncaring. He lowered his sword and took two paces to the rear. I remained where I was.
"Nel, get a little further back," he remarked to the small Hollow-girl cowering on the floor. My eyes examined her. No, she was not a Hollow… She was an Arrancar. How strange. "It doesn't look like he's gonna let me through after all." She wailed and scampered behind a pillar. I watched all of this with disinterest. His power was in no way comparable to my own, even in this angry, incited state. "But I'm in a hurry, so we'll have to go all out," he continued to me. I watched him impassively. Prove you are worthy of her love, I thought. Prove you deserve the hero's mantle you have been given. He activated his Bankai, and I followed his path upwards with my eyes.
"…Oh. Bankai," I remarked, not at all impressed. He covered his face with one hand, and when he removed it, the mask was a Hollow's; the eyes were an animal's. This surprised me somewhat, but I wasn't in any way afraid of it. He was so overconfident, so sure of this being the path to victory.
Seething with energy, he brought his sword down hard, and I blocked it with my arm. He didn't even pierce my comparatively-weak Hierro. He didn't have the time to look surprised, however, as I flung my arm out and sent him crashing backwards through the pillars.
Was this his full power? Was this really all he was capable of? Did he seriously intend to try and rescue Orihime with this? I set off at sonido-speed towards him, pondering his new change and apparent power. Hs reiatsu moved like a Hollow's, similar to the way mine had been. This meant something, and I resolved to think more on it later.
"It's over," he growled. "Getsuga Tenshou." He flung it out at me, and that surprised me somewhat. That was ridiculous. He thought such an attack could hurt me? Was he a total fool? I blocked his pathetic attempt at ending the fight with one hand, then swept it away. The second crest was larger, and hit my outstretched hands with full force. I sighed softly.
"How ridiculous," I murmured, and the energy exploded around my outstretched hands. I heard the Arrancar-girl fret over him. Nel. Could it be? Neliel Tu?
His response was laughable. He thought he had won! He honestly thought that that attack would have been enough to stop me!
"Well, well," I remarked, watching his face as the mist cleared. Half of my sleeves had been annihilated, and I had had to regenerate a finger, but apart from that, I was unharmed. His expression was one of pure, utter shock, mingled with terror, and perhaps despair. I would like to think that I had incited despair in him. "Was that… All of your power, just now?" I asked, almost absently. "To think that I could not stop it, even with both hands…?" I looked at said hands, fully intact as they were, and brushed a little debris off my shoulder with one. The look in his eyes spoke louder than words. "…It would appear so," I realised. "How… Unfortunate." I charged a cero, wondering why he was worth Orihime's love, her devotion, her protection. Why him and not I? Why not me?!
"Cero!" I shouted, perhaps with a little more anger than normal, and the power exploded outwards from me. I exulted in it, although it was uncharacteristic of me. Go, Ichigo, turn tail and flee, for you are nothing in the face of my power. Nothing at all.
He was thrown out of the building by the force of the blast, the Arrancar-girl unconscious in his arms. I used sonido, and was caught up with him before he could even discern that. One swing of my sword sent him into… Through the wall of another building. I used sonido again and jumped up, walking through the wreckage absently.
"You used that mask again, to defend against my cero," I remarked. "But, it shattered in an instant. Next time, you will not be able to use it." He looked at me, his weakness showing in his bloody, torn face, but rebellion in his eyes. "Surrender," I offered. For Orihime. Don't kill him, she had begged. Well, I would not. I would let him go.
This time.
He rammed his sword into my chest. I looked down at it impassively. What a completely foolish move.
"Nobody's surrendering," he spat. "You're number one, right? I take you down, I've got this." I almost laughed at his naivety. Me? Number one? Did he think I was that stupid? Did he really think I would want to be number one? Had he seen so little of our power that he thought that I, fighting at barely a third of my full strength, was number one?
Ridiculous.
"I see," I murmured. "That's unfortunate." I closed my hand around the sword, the blade no bother to me whatsoever. The look in his eyes was of fear, true fear.
I pulled the blade down. It did not once cut my skin. The top half of my uniform was torn into two, letting him see my rank, emblazoned upon my chest like something to be proud of. Four.
"Y-you're fourth?!" He exclaimed. Once more, his ignorance was laughable.
"Yes," I responded. "Espada cuatro, Ulquiorra Schiffer. My power, as it stands, is ranked fourth amongst us." The power they have seen is ranked fourth. None of them had seen what else I could do, and as far as I was aware I was the only one who could do it – release my second state. To let them know everything would be foolish indeed.
I slammed my hand into his chest, where his heart should be. Where I had nothing but a hole. That place that set us apart. "Ichigo Kurosaki, you have no hope of defeating me," I informed him bluntly. "Even if somehow you could, there are three others stronger than I." His face showed shock at defeat. "Even if you rise from the ashes a thousand times, you stand no chance." I pulled my hand out in one swift movement, and he fell to the floor. "It seems I overestimated you," I continued. "Orihime puts her faith in you. She believes you can save her. But your progress has failed to meet my expectations." He looked up at me weakly.
"Ori… Hime…" He choked out. I suppressed the irritation.
"You stop here," I told him. "Crawl away, if you can move." I looked down at him scornfully. "Or die, if you do not even have that resolve." The flash of anger in his eyes confirmed to me that he would live, even if it were just to spite me. Good. Orihime would be pleased. "You express anger at what I have done," I remarked. "I acted on orders." He spat at me. "I took her, I cared for her, I feed her, I broke her for Lord Aizen." I knelt down by him, and his eyes were like daggers. "If you will hate me for that, hate her for willingly, after a fashion, being Aizen's pawn. For healing Grimmjow." He noted that. My momentary slip. Just Aizen. "If she believes in you, she stands no chance," I told him bluntly. "If she thinks you will rescue her, she is dead wrong. If she thinks you are worthy of her devotion, of her love, she is mistaken." He did not react to this, so I stood up. "I will continue to care for her because that is what I have been ordered to do," I told him. "She will not be hurt. But do not let that make you dally. If you truly think you have a hope of defeating us… Strike us down, Soul Reaper. Kill those who you condemn purely because we were made this way."
I turned and walked away.
I walked back to Orihime's cell, intending to tell her of the situation, let her know that Ichigo was still clinging to life if it pleased her. Perhaps some reassurance on the Kuchiki situation would be required. I was certain that the other Soul Reapers would not abandon the girl to her fate, but Orihime would have nothing to confirm…
Orihime was not there. Instead, two Arrancar girls, blood streaked all about the place, and a severely cratered wall. A mixture of fear and anger ran through me at this sight.
"…Who did this?" I demanded of the girls. They looked at each other, nervously; I could see blood on their fingernails. They had hurt Orihime. They had come when I was guaranteed not to be there to hurt Orihime. How dare they do such a thing?
"G-Grimmjow…" One of them told me eventually. Well, that was reasonable. Grimmjow had a definite feud with the Kurosaki boy, he would no doubt be angry that I had "stolen" his "prey"…
"…I see," I responded levelly, turning and walking away. I would deal with that pair later. They would pay dearly for hurting Orihime.
I debated with myself as I started towards the place I had left Ichigo. Something inside me was changing. I could feel it. The old anger I had felt as a Vasto Lorde was reminding me of itself. The frustration at the situation I was feeling was abnormal indeed. And the fact that Grimmjow had taken Orihime, even if he had saved her from those pathetic Arrancar dregs, incited in me a feeling I had no name for.
I used my sonido, not eager to be too late and possibly even lose Orihime to that weak fool Kurosaki because of a miscalculation on Grimmjow's part. I knew that Orihime would not care that I had defeated Ichigo – in fact, she would likely hold it against me. All she cared about was his life. I had spared it, was that not enough for her? What did I need to do to replace him?
What if he was like me? If he were a hollow, or an Arrancar? Would we be more level then – assuming he and his weak power could ever be termed 'level' with my own? Would I stand to be more equal in her eyes then?
"Grimmjow," I started, making him curse and turn. "What are you doing?" Orihime looked at me with a mixture of fear, hatred, and regret on her face. Regret? That was unusual to see in her.
It seemed she had been using her power to try and heal Ichigo. The wounds I had inflicted upon him seemed to be stubbornly clinging, however – this troubled her, hence the hatred in her gaze. "I said, what are you doing?" I demanded, walking closer. I glanced at Ichigo out of the corner of my eye. Had I perhaps miscalculated the damage I had done to him? He would have to be even weaker than he looked for that to have occurred, but still…
I made a slight hand movement, apparently to emphasise my words – it made Orihime flinch – but it drew out what was left of the energy from my attack in Ichigo, returning it to my reiatsu. "Not answering?" I remarked. "Very well." My eyes went to Orihime. "Lord Aizen has placed the girl in my care. Do what you will, but please return her to my care." Grimmjow laughed and spat.
"Shut the fuck up," he told me bluntly. I regarded him levelly. He was an arrogant fool, believing himself above me in power. Ridiculous. I could defeat him without even having to release my resurrección.
"What did you say?" I demanded, although I kept my voice calm, level. Orihime seemed afraid, although what of, it was hard to tell. Grimmjow laughed.
"Something's up with you!" He remarked. "You're far too chatty… Ulquiorra!" He launched himself at me, and I blocked him absently with the back of my hand. Chatty? It was true that I had talked more than normal – I was well-known for my stoic silence, and it defined me – but that he had noticed it… I wondered what was happening to me. It was… Strange, unreal. "Oh, I get it!" He remarked. "You're afraid!" I made a slight amused noise. Afraid? Of him? I think not. I would never be afraid of him even if all Hueco Mundo froze over. He was brash, arrogant, easily goaded, too reliant on his strength and his attitude. He was easy to anger and quick to fight – something I had had to restrain to stop him killing himself before now. He was shallow and as readable as a book.
In short, I would never lose to him.
"Afraid to fight between Espada?" He taunted, before holding out his hands and firing a cero, nearly point-blank. Surprise may have shown on my face at the pure stupidity of such a move for a second, but I deflected it with a slash of my hand and jumped backwards to disperse the energy. Pathetic. He started some foolish posturing, but I used my sonido to draw level with him and jumped, resigned. I would not kill him – I had no need to kill him – but I would show him the difference in our strengths, at least.
He attempted to block my cero with his hands, as I had done, but failed miserably. The energy exploded violently in the confined space, causing part of the top of the pillar to subside and crash to the desert below, and I landed, attempting to get my bearings in the smoke.
He grabbed me from behind and, before I could react, pushed a caja negación into my hollow hole. The utter depravity of such an action appalled me beyond all belief. How dare he? To use something like that against someone of a higher rank like myself, especially in such a base way…
"…Damn," I muttered, unable to stop the prison-dimension closing around me. Only once it was sealed did I slam my hands against the wall, that one action venting all of the anger that had slowly built up against me. I would not be hate again. I would be calm, stoic, a rock in the storm.
I had been so close! I had done all she asked, and he had to destroy it all! Take her away – no doubt he would lose her and I would face the brunt of the punishment – heal the boy, and now humiliate me in the worst of manners. I would not be contained like this. No, I could break this prison. I glanced around at the walls, stood at one end and fired a cero at the opposite wall. Nothing. Not even a crack.
How ridiculous.
I drew my sword, a calm look on my face.
"Bind, Murciélago," I murmured, feeling the rush of power around me as I changed into my Resurrección form. I formed my attack in my hands. This would surely dent my prison, at least a little…
The explosion was much, much larger than from my cero, but there was no effect on the wall. I frowned. This was unexpected indeed. Perhaps a more hands-on approach would be needed. I charged the wall, slamming my claws into it, but I was stopped as easily as if it were Aizen I was fighting. My frown deepened. This was not what I had expected at all.
"Resurrección segunda etapa," I muttered, now irritated, my body shifting in a blinding display of light to my almost-original form. I flew back to the opposite side and launched another bolt at the wall, and the effect was exactly the same.
I sighed, and let my energies fade me back into my normal state. Brute force would get me nowhere for now, and Orihime was likely already lost to the Espada. Grimmjow was an arrogant, base fool. He had no sense at all. All the Espada had this same problem; they were so obsessed with their petty-minded feuds and their new-found power, and never combined their strengths or listened to common sense. That was why, if they were not careful, we were all going to die.
I sat down, leaning against the wall, and thought about things. About the flashes of raw emotion that kept trying to surface in me. Why was this? It was ridiculous. Hatred, guilt, regret… All of these were emotions I did not need. They would impede me in doing my duty for Aizen…
Orihime. It was Orihime that incited these emotions in me, whether she knew it or not. My hand tightened around my sword. Orihime, who put her faith in the weak Kurosaki boy. Orihime, who would leave in an instant with him if she could. Orihime, who he would walk away from to save another, likely dead, friend. Why did she love him? I did not understand.
I stood up and swiftly released my resurrección again, a determined look on my face. I would break out of this prison and resume my duties. That was what I had to do. Once this was over, I would have no need to concern myself with any of this ridiculous nonsense, as either I would be dead, or she would. I ignored the biting sensation that accompanied that last thought. I did not care for her. I cared for nothing. I cared for no-one, no-one!
The lance hit the far wall with a resounding crash, and took something of my anger away with it.
A/N - Uploading the second part instantly-ish. No matter what happens in the manga, I don't think I'll continue this past the end of part 2. If he dies, I couldn't bear it. If he lives, it would spoil the effect of the ending.
PleasepleasePLEASE R&R. I welcome, support and appreciate any sort of constructive criticism, although just telling me you liked the fic would make my day. ^^ Flames I will laugh at. Seriously, if you hated it that much, why did you continue reading? I don't understand flamers. I understand them about as much as Ulquiorra understands Orihime. Go figure.