Author's note & Introduction: This is just my collection of little drabbles and short fics. They usually won't have anything to do with each other, and will involve random pairings and ideas. May be AU. May be OOC, but I try my best. I get these from various places, generators, prompts, stuff in my life, chapters/episodes I've recently read or watched, etc. So enjoy!

Title: Capacity
Characters: Ulquiorra & Nemu
Summary: Nemu has learned a thing or two from her captain about frightening people into submission...
Inspired by: Random generator with characters & phrase: Volleyball
A/N: Hopefully not too OOC. It's a little AU because obviously, Ulquiorra is (maybe) dead and would not be playing volleyball. But hey, we can pretend :)

The volleyball bounces and rolls down the hill, away from the makeshift court behind the Twelfth Division barracks.

"Ulquiorra-san, I am positive that you are physically capable of better performance." Nemu grabs the spare ball and lets it rest on her hip while walking toward the net and staring at the deformed Arrancar.

Ulquiorra looks up at the girl from his place on the ground. He gets up, shaking out his shriveled left side. The Shinigami spared him when they swept through Hueco Mundo, but he never fully healed. "Don't be a fool, girl. You are clearly mistaken." He gestures with his right hand to his left side. "As you can see, this is my fullest ability." A blatant lie. Even in this state, Ulquiorra is perfectly capable of fighting, not to mention playing volleyball. After all, he hadn't been given the rank of Fourth Espada for nothing. But nowadays, he simply feels uninterested and would much rather be alone than with the Shinigami. But she is interesting, he grants her that, which is why he's still here.

Unfazed, Nemu crosses her arms. She sees right through him. "Really, Ulquiorra-san? Would you like me…to fix that for you? I'll be quick. Or perhaps I may bring you to Mayuri-sama. I'm sure he will do an even better job." She raises her right hand and points it at him. A seemingly harmless gesture, but Ulquiorra knows—he's seen—that arm become a number of not-so-harmless things. A drill, for one. He's never experienced these things himself, and he wants to keep it that way. And he certainly does not want to end up as Kurotsuchi Mayuri's lab rat.

Ulquiorra gulps, his throat dry. "No, that won't be necessary. I'll…do my best." And he gets into position to receive Nemu's serve.

She smiles. "Good."