4
Playing Pretend
…
"You're going to be a boring roommate," Kaeliel muttered.
Grimmjow stood silently, choosing not to reply to that.
"Grimmy's always been like that, though," Ari said.
"At least for as long as we've known him," Ira added.
"Whatever," Kaeliel breathed, pulling on the collar of his black vest. Why did these gigai have to be so annoying? Not only were they limiting, but he hadn't become used to these human clothes yet. First the black vest, then these odd pants. They were made of a stiff dark blue fabric and only went to just above his knees. Urahara called them "denim shorts." The only things about this ensemble that he liked were the "sneakers," which provided much more flexible movement and foot protection than the sandals at Las Noches had. It was too hot out to wear anything more similar to his old Arrancar uniform. It was almost too humid for him to even bear his messily styled purple ponytail, but he wasn't about to lose another chunk of his personality to human conditions.
Kaeliel's mud-colored eyes drifted over to the rest of the group. He wondered if any of them found this situation and these customs as obnoxious as he did. If they did, they sure weren't making a fuss about it. In fact, if anything, Grimmjow looked somewhat comfortable. The simple white T-shirt and baggy jeans suited him, surprisingly, despite the shockingly spiky blue hair and eyes. Every once in a while, he would flex his left hand or rub his bare jaw. The sensation of uncovered skin was new. Kaeliel, of course, knew that Grimmjow's arm had not always been permanently transformed and wondered how it felt to have it back to normal again. Kaeliel himself had the habit of touching the spot where his own mask would have been if not for the gigai.
Creepy twins one and two were busy giggling in a corner, sharing some inside joke. They were harder to tell apart now. All of their defining Arrancar features were gone, leaving only copy-cat versions of the same silver-haired, violet-eyed face. Why the h- did that Urahara guy decide it would be "cute" to dress them identically, anyway? The striped purple and white polos only served to make him nauseous. At the very least, they'd each decided to put a wristband on opposite arms. Ira's white one was on his right, Ari's black one was on his left. The day they decided to switch, Kaeliel would be lost.
A yawn escaped the mouth of one twin-Kaeliel wasn't sure which one it was at the moment-and was soon followed by another from the opposite. Nodding to each other, they stood up.
"We're going to go rest," they announced, heading off.
"Tch," Kaeliel huffed. "Why did we bring those two along with us?"
"For the same reason you were brought along," Grimmjow retorted. "It's not as if you three act much older than each other."
"They're too naïve for this," Kaeliel argued.
He thought he saw irritation flash on the enigmatic Grimmjow's face for a second. "In case you forgot, both happen to be more powerful than you. I would not doubt that their child-like demeanor is somewhat of a front, either."
"But it'll work to your advantage, right?" the more manic of the two asked. "Their innocence…you think it'll make Soul Society more likely to comply with our requests."
"Ulquiorra as well," Grimmjow answered. "They will remind him of that child Shinigami."
"Little Captain? What's he got to do with this?" Kaeliel wondered.
"You'll find out soon enough," Grimmjow answered. "Just know that if we want our way, we will have to keep a close eye on those two. They're exactly the connection-the catalyst-that we need."
…
A knock came to Orihime Inoue's door early that morning, just as she was getting ready to leave for her morning shift. She opened up and a smile instantly lit her face. "Ulquiorra!"
He nodded back. "Orihime."
His all-seeing eyes caught the flicker of amusement on her face and knew she was restraining some insane fit of giggling. To this day, she was still pleased when he called her by her name. She hugged him in greeting, much to his chagrin. He tensed up.
"Um, sorry," she chuckled, pulling away faster than Ulquiorra's sonido. She rubbed the back of her head, playing with the bouncing bright orange ponytail.
"It's fine," he said in his level tone. "I am well used to you crossing all of the old boundaries. It no longer surprises me."
She frowned. "Hey, what's bothering you?" she asked, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She locked the door behind her and the two began to head out.
"There is nothing bothering me," he answered.
She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. She stepped straight into his path to make sure that he would notice her rather childish display.
"Woman, I am not in the mood for your games," he stated. "Do you wish for me to forcefully remove you from that spot?"
She flinched at the name. Still, she defied him. "I will not move."
He raised an eyebrow. "Very well."
The next thing Orihime knew, she was pounding on his back and screaming at him to put her down. "Ulquiorra! People are going to think strangely of us!"
"I warned you," he reiterated. "You simply refused to comply with my request."
"Throwing a person over your shoulder and carrying them is no way to treat someone!"
He would have shrugged if what she'd said were not true and therefore his shoulders would have been free to do so. Instead, he replied, "If you will refuse to move, how would you rather I carry you?"
"…Put me down, Ulquiorra."
"That depends," he said. "Will you continue to walk if I do so?"
"Yes," she groaned in compliance.
He placed her back on the ground. She stumbled for a second, trying to catch her balance. Ulquiorra was already ahead of her. She jogged to catch up.
"You're acting more like you would have at Las Noches," she noticed.
"How so?"
Her gray-violet eyes drifted toward the pavement. "I don't know. More upfront, blunt...rude."
"Have I not always been as such?"
His tenor made her suddenly lock gazes with him. Most people might have missed it, but she could pick it up from a while away. It was nothing more than a slight undertone; an emotion habitually buried beneath the surface.
Self-condemnation.
She stopped again.
"At this rate, we will both be late," Ulquiorra pointed out.
She examined his face, trying to locate one of his micro-expressions. "Something happened."
"Woman, it would be better if you stayed out of these matters," Ulquiorra said. "They are none of your concern."
"Stop calling me that!" she cried. Orihime then crossed another boundary. She stomped up to Ulquiorra, looked his straight in the face, and slapped him.
The world paused around them. Neither moved. It would have been so easy to imagine white-washed walls, white uniforms, and a perfect white crescent moon ruling the black night from above. Ulquiorra blinked and the universal play button had been pressed once more. He glanced at her from the corners of his eyes.
"That was rather uncharacteristically violent of you," he observed. Just like that other time.
It was then that he saw the tears beginning to well up in her eyes, try as hard as she might to hold them back. She was pretending to be strong. Especially in front of Ulquiorra, she had to be. She was compelled to prove herself to him even after all this time. Orihime knew it was stupid, but too many painful memories were coming back. Why did he continue to use that horrible name?
"I apologize if I have upset you," Ulquiorra said. The words were stiff.
"Please," she begged quietly. "Please just stop acting like a Hollow."
I am not sure if I can, he thought to himself. He took in her dejected appearance, head hung toward the ground, hands shaking by her sides. A single glistening droplet fell to the ground. Hesitantly, he reached out and grabbed one of the shaking hands. "Orihime," he called. She finally looked up at him. For a second, he imagined Toshiro standing there, but pushed the image away. He said, "I am going to warn you that for the next few days, I may act strangely. You should not think anything of it. However, if it pleases you, I will try my best to act more human."
She gazed at him sadly. "But you're still only acting."
He moved the corners of his lips up in an awkward attempt at a smile. "Yes."
She shifted her grip to latch onto his hand. Then, the girl began to walk forward.
"Orihime?"
She stopped and spun around, plastering a massive smile on her face. She laughed cheerfully. "Come on, Ulquiorra. We really are going to be late now!"
She more or less dragged him along behind her for a few feet until he was able to match her pace. She didn't remove the strained happiness from her face and he continued to appear content. The competition of pretenders had begun.