~Blurry~
Tears didn't suit her, that much he knew. It wasn't a simple matter of weakness being shown that he so disliked. No. It was different. Tears belonged on the faces of mortals like that Inoue woman. So childish and simplistic was her mindset, nothing of consequence ever seemed to come from her mouth. Easy compliance was the road she had taken; her bed and now she had to lie in it.
So why did the Shinigami think it imperative to aid in the rescue of a human looked upon as a traitor by all of Soul society? This, he could not understand. A face set in stony determination appeared on the screen, the Shinigami in question, running along the narrow, twisting corridors of Las Noches. Alone now and running to meet the Noventa Espada, Aaroniero Arruruerie, though she did not know.
Pity.
Ulquiorra left the room, walking away to carry out his orders of dispatching the trash Kurosaki.
He didn't think she'd survive the encounter.
~~~*~~~
AN: yeah the title doesn't fit. It was supposed to be for something else and then it just turned out this way. :) A real drabble! Reviews are appreciated.