Damages CH 7: Eyes of desolation

Ulquiorra hadn't the degree of irritation Grimmjow felt, despite La Sexta's taunts about what their Lord was doing with their prize. Rukia Kuchiki was no prize. She was a Shinigami, not worthy of having an Espada such as himself concern his primary thoughts about her. So keeping this in mind, he continued on down the hallway, intent only on resting in his room. Grimmjow branched off at a turn, his brow furrowed and his expression displeased; he really had desired to spend a little while with the girl.

Damn Aizen.

A white door marked only with a black 4 set high above the knob was ajar. Shuffling noises came from within, curious, he heard the under-tone mutter of a female. He didn't have any Fraccion. The knob turned, the hinges silently without a creak swinging the door open. A tiny, pale face started, the eyes wide and fearful rose up to his face; it was the Shinigami's servant.

"La Cuatro…" the little Arrancar breathed, in her hands was clutched the wrapped blade of the Zanpaku-to. The long guard protruded above the bony shoulder. "What are you doing with that weapon?" he asked softly, his cold gaze boring straight into the terrified Arrancar. She began to back up; he advanced menacingly toward her. A squeak of fear and fingers tightening around the slender sword as he reached for it, told him all he needed to know.

The cunning Shinigami had ordered her to do it.

"I can kill you where you stand, trash."

The Arrancar shivered, but resolutely cradled the bundle tighter, "Ru-Rukia-sama will be happy to see her sword. I-I must make her happy." She seemed to be talking to herself. Ulquiorra withdrew his hand, seeing the creature flinch. Head bowed, miserable and cowed by his threat, the Hollow still wished to bring a little happiness to the Shinigami. How strange.

"Happiness isn't permitted here."

His flat statement brought the Arrancar's head up, staring at him with trembling white lips and mute disagreement. "Leave it," he commanded. Chest heaving, choices were few but cooperation without accomplishing anything would mean failure. She didn't want that. Her Mistress wanted-needed her precious sword back, even if that meant disobeying a direct order from a member of the Espada.

This was the only way…

Holding the scabbard end outward, she watched as he took it, not sensing anything different about it. His stare directed her to leave. Which she did, gladly, even reaching the hallway outside her Mistress's room faster with Sonido. Slipping inside, the small Arrancar reproduced the Zanpaku-to, with a pang of conscience for deceiving the Espada. Her singular power was that of manipulating dimensions to hide even the largest objects in plain sight, duplicating it was neither impossible nor difficult.

The real Sode no Shirayuki gleamed in her hands, sighing heavily, Yuki laid it atop the dresser with reverence, making sure to keep the space above it locked in illusion. Rukia-sama was sure to be joyful when she brought it out. Perhaps she would even lose that morose look that had colored her expression as of late…

~~~*~~~

Ulquiorra replaced the Zanpaku-to back in the cage of solidified reishii. The field of energy being disturbed gave trace of the thieving Arrancar's break in. Waving his hand across the distorted ripple of broken bars he strengthened it with some of his own. Make her happy…?

There was no such thing as attaining happiness in this world.

He knew that, he had assumed she did as well.

The happiness of the world was false as the ideals of Soul society had been. They spoke of peace while with the other hand reviling the existence of the damned. With their swords and their power, crushed them down, sentencing them to this dismal, bleak world. That was the rule, she believed in. That was the belief shared by all those whom had fallen. The Shinigami dead had darkened the skies over the walled city, blasts had scorched the fair walls and still…some survived.

He raised his head to stare at the closed door of his room; was his master, perhaps lonesome, being the near last of his kind? Was that why he wished to be in the presence of someone the same as him?

Curiosity brought a faint glimmer to otherwise dead eyes.

He would find out for himself whether or not this was the case.

~~~*~~~

He slipped unnoticed into his Lord's quarters. The sound of plates clinking from the outer balcony alerted him to where they were. Suppressing his reiatsu, he neared the window in time to see—*

~~~*~~~

Rukia stared about herself, blinking rapidly in the full cast of bright light emitted from the fake sun above Hueco Mundo. Her lips still tingled with the memory of that kiss; disgusted with the excited beat of her pounding heart she set out. Farther away, tall jagged pillars of rock formations skirted the white dunes; her sandals crunched and sunk deep in the loosened grains.

At once the fabric of her dress began to crinkle, lying oppressively on the blades of her shoulders. Sweat trickled along her hairline, beading perspiration dotted her forehead. What was this—Death Valley? The famed American desert had nothing on Hueco Mundo. Glancing back, she found she had only traveled a few paces away from the traitor's palace. If only she had Sode no Shirayuki with her…

Fondly she recalled the cool ice surrounding her aura, becoming one with the white Zanpaku-to and performing her beautiful, yet deadly dances. She sighed, how she missed it! Damn them. Damn them all! Opening her eyes from the remembrance of her sword, her eyes zeroed in on a lone figure, familiar but…

"Nemu!" She flew up the next dune with relief; at least she wasn't alone out here. Except…glancing about she didn't see evidence of Stark or his annoying fraccion. The former Lieutenant of Division twelve, stood pensive, staring silently out at the expanse of empty dunes and sky, her expression somber. "Nemu? It's me—Rukia Kuchiki—Captain Kuchiki's—"

"I know. I heard you the first time." Wise onyx eyes turned to look down at the petite Shinigami that had joined her sojourn. "I glimpsed you yesterday as well, beside La Sexta. Stark-sama didn't need the problems that my hailing of you might bring, so I chose not to speak with you then."

Rukia blinked in confusion; had she just addressed a Hollow with an honorific?

Apparently.

"Stark-sama later asked me if I indeed knew you and if so why didn't I—"

"Why do you do that?" she felt she had to ask.

"What?"

"Speak of that monster with a tone of reverence? Have you forgotten—they destroyed our world!" Rukia met the woman's blank stare and knew she had to clarify, "Soul society! Everyone—" her voice broke at the end, the rising lump in her throat made it difficult to go on, "—everything." She averted her face, determined that she wouldn't be seen giving into such a weak thing as tears.

Nemu unclasped her hands from her stoic pose, sympathy breaking across her frozen mask; gently she enfolded the smaller girl in her arms. "He may seem horrible as they all do, Kuchiki-san. But…Mayuri-sama was no more a monster than them."

"But—"

"No. Listen," Nemu patted the top of Rukia's head the way you might comfort a child, "when the invasion of Soul society happened, I as well as others were there on the front lines. Our defense was breached almost immediately; retreat seemed to be the only option. As I went with the few others who'd survived the initial assault—Mayuri-sama waited inside the research and development division. The doors slamming shut behind the backs of those with me. He—he left me there. Outside. To fend off the approaching army and give him a chance to escape; those were his final orders."

Rukia listened with growing horror; rumors had always circulated about the sadistic Captain and his ill treatment of those around him. They had all been true.

"Stark was the first to approach. Passing me by with a simple glance—seeing I had no chance of defeating him, as my wounds were great. Those inside didn't live long after that. I felt my father's reiatsu flare and fade into nothingness; footsteps resounded down the hallway then back outside. He then came. Looking down at me, measuring my odds of survival. I was carried by him and brought here…to serve at his side with Lillinette. I loved my father—but he did not love me."

Nemu finished her statement with perfunctory stoicism. Rukia drew in breath, her eyes dry now but her heart heavier with a sadness she could not comprehend. "He's still…" she faltered, her voice dropping to a soft whisper, "a monster."

Nemu sighed, and then slowly turned to the figure of an Arrancar approaching, "I know. I know it so well."

Rukia looked too, seeing that it was Ulquiorra.

Back to the Palace now.

Back to the room she hated and the creatures she loathed.

But still.

A touch of humanity had been found in Stark. Could not the same seed be within the cold eyes of desolation that ordered her from Nemu's side and to his, be found also?

"Come with me…Rukia."

After all he had never spoken her name before.

~~~To be continued~~~

AN: :( unhappy with this chapter. :( Anyway it had to be done. D: Sorry it wasn't longer. Reviews are much appreciated since I'm not sure if I should keep the chapter as it is or delete and change it?