A/N: So excited to see that a few of you are very anxious to read this! I would be so grateful if you guys would continue leaving your thoughts and feelings below! Happy to give you all chapter 2!
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any other copyrighted material.
Sympathy for the Devil
Chapter 2: Where The Heart Is
One thing no one ever told Orihime Inoue, was that fighting cancer would be really, really, really hard. She had expected pain, she had expected disappointment, but she had never anticipated she would feel so absolutely empty.
The poison the doctors called 'chemo' seemed like a harmless enough thing at first glance. However, it took a few experiences with the drug to fully comprehend its severe side effects.
The first time she'd felt nausea hit her out of nowhere. She hadn't made it to the bathroom in time to conceal her vomit in the porcelain bowl of the toilet, which had become her friend over the past few weeks. She ended up lying on the cold floor of her room surrounded by her own filth, unable to pull herself away from the stench.
The second time she'd been a little more prepared. She'd parked herself by the bathroom door in anticipation but it took longer for the feelings of sickness to kick in. She ended up falling asleep in exhaustion only to be woken abruptly by the need to purge the contents of her stomach, which were few and far between.
She'd managed to crawl to the toilet and slowly let the waves of illness rack her body until there was absolutely nothing left inside her, and even then the contractions within her did not stop. She spent hours of falling asleep and then dry-heaving and letting the sweat roll off her fore head and drip into the clear water inside the bowl.
This is why she'd become friends with a toilet. It seemed to be the only thing holding her up from falling to the ground. The cool, white surface registered as a comfort in her delirious state.
Often she would be woken up by a nurse looking down at her with concern, asking if she was alright. And, as always, she'd lie, put on a false smile, and tell them everything was fine.
It was on one of these pitiful days that Ulquiorra visited her for the second time. She wondered yet again if the being in front of her, peering at her with indifference, was real.
Had the cancer spread to her brain? She thought.
Or was it just the nausea?
"You appear to be suffering woman." His low, steady voice said pulling her out of the almost comatose state she'd been in.
She would've raised her head to greet the angel but there was no energy left in her after the bout of throw-up she'd just endured.
"I am dying you know…" she joked soft enough that it could barely be interpreted as a whisper.
His appearance had changed slightly from the last time she'd seen him. Those haunting yellow eyes she'd seen many time in her dreams were no longer ghoulish. In fact, they were a deep emerald green surrounded by a sea of white.
His eyes felt as piercing as ever but in them there was wisdom and omniscient despair. It was like looking into the ball of a fortune teller and seeing all the terrible things Ulquiorra had gone through. She would've liked to stare into his eyes forever and heal the darkness that emanated from them. But that was dream she knew would never pass.
Besides, he was an angel, the angel of death at that, and she was just a mere human riddled with disease.
Ulquiorra stepped nearer, his talons nearly scathing her frail legs. She laid her head against the toilet seat, welcoming its chill on her clammy skin as she followed his movements.
Her silver eyes widened in pain as she gripped the side of the porcelain with both hands and felt herself heave until the clear water inside the commode turned a deep scarlet. She wiped a quivering hand across her dry lips and saw crimson.
She focused her vision on Ulquiorra who was kneeling beside her and reaching out a claw-like finger towards her pale skin.
"The relief you will feel will only be temporary." He said as his oddly furry extremity brushed her cheek briefly.
A peculiar sensation overcame her; it was almost warm and the void feeling in the pit of her stomach dissipated. Her skin became a neutral temperature and her head no longer felt dizzy.
"U-Ulquiorra?" she blinked sitting up from the edge of the toilet.
"Compose yourself woman." He said calmly rising from his kneeled position to look down on her once again.
Orihime once again absentmindedly took note of his attractive attributes. The lines of his torso that trailed down the length of his abdomen captivating her until they were cut off by the black fur of his lower half.
"Thank you, Ulquiorra." she said gratefully struggling to stand so that she wouldn't be so far from his level. She pushed the thick strands of her auburn hair behind her ear and drug the platform of her I.V., which was taped into her arm, towards the bed in the adjoining room.
Ulquiorra did not touch her again, but she could feel his eyes calculating her every move. Observing her with so much intensity that she felt she might disappoint him if she breathed a certain way.
Once she was settled into the bed she felt so exhausted she wondered if she would just conk out then and there in the presence of the angel of death. But before she was completely lost Ulquiorra pulled her out of the darkness once again.
"Do you recall what you said to me, the last time I appeared to you?" he questioned, their eye contact never breaking.
"Hmmm which part?" she smiled, color returning to her cheeks.
"The heart." He stated flatly. His green gaze narrowed and he took a step towards her.
"You humans use that term so lightly. As if it were something that could be held in the palm of one's hand. But my eyes see everything, nothing can escape them. If I cannot see this so-called 'heart' then it does not exist." He continued venomously, contemplating her every reaction to his claim.
Orihime casted her eyes downwards, her expression holding compassion as she returned to his stare.
"I am sorry…" she said tears stinging her eyes unexpectedly as she felt the weight of his loneliness descend on her shoulders. Ulquiorra's stone façade morphed into one of anger.
"Tell me woman, where is this heart of yours?" He leaned closer to her and held out a hand to her chest, the tip of his middle finger grazing the skin above her breasts.
"If tore open your chest would it be there?" his claws lifted to hover before her glossy grey orbs.
"If I split open your skull, would I see it then?" he hissed.
Orihime shifted as Ulquiorra's arm dropped back to his side, she sat upright and steeled her gaze. She wondered if his harsh assertions were an attempt to frighten her, to make her fear her demise. But it would take so much more than scary words to make her afraid of what was not in her control.
She flashed him a small, delicate smile. The curvature of her lips tilting upwards gracefully as her determination mollified with sweetness.
"The heart…" she began placing a needle strapped hand over her chest.
"…is something that is felt." She looked out the window, once again admiring the clouds overhead. Ulquiorra moved away from her, listening.
"It's what you can feel when someone you love leaves, or experiences joy, or even sadness." She continued passionately before looking into the entrancing gaze of a green-eyed angel.
"The heart is what makes you human, Ulquiorra." She ended, feeling the breath suck out of her slowly.
The sudden fatigue caused her to lay back against the plushy cushions surrounding her. She watched him look almost serene as he pondered her little speech. His thick eyebrows were smoothed out and his eyes not so fierce.
"You're an abnormal mortal, Orihime Inoue." He said collectedly.
She giggled as best as her lungs would allow.
"You're not the first person to tell me that." She responded. He for once looked away from her and towards the bleak floor of the hospital room.
"I am beginning to take an interest in you humans." He said flicking his eyes back to hers coyly.
A blush spread across her face and it wasn't the fever causing it.
"T-there are many other people besides me that are wayyy more interesting to talk to!" she stammered, clutching the covers that encased her tightly.
For a moment Orihime thought Ulquiorra looked like he was laughing at her.
"You're an anomaly woman." He said as her consciousness begin to wane.
But before Orihime fell to sleep she swore that the corner of Ulquiorra's lip upturned in an almost indistinguishable smile.