Disclaimer: I make no money from this, as Bleach and Bentley do not belong to me
A/N: Surprise! Early Chap 8 post since Lilarin and I didn't like leaving cliffhangers. FFN's viewcounter is still broken, so I would appreciate hearing what you think about this chapter. :) Also big thanks to Sunny, who is off to party in Winnipeg, for keeping me inspired with hot men.
Big thank you as usual to the people who reviewed last chapter: Bla, LHisAwesome4Ever, Aya Kazuki, Mymina, meivana, safira1718, Eii, Keira14, Akumakisses, Calantha S and the other anonymous reviewers. Thanks for favoriting and following and taking time to read this. AAAAA. You guys, seriously, are awesome.
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VIII
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Tokyo flies past Ulquiorra in his borrowed Bentley, and he doesn't care that he is going over the speed limit.
What does he know about love, anyway? Why should he care about this silly girl who foolishly attached herself to him? Why does every fiber of his being scream at him to protect her from Mr. Aizen? Frustrated, he pushes the car into fifth gear, roaring down the highway to drown out the chaos of his thoughts.
He drives aimlessly for miles, trying to put distance between himself and the scene he left behind. Finally, Ulquiorra finds himself at the gate of the cemetery, where his brother and hers are buried. He eases the car into a parking spot, and heads over to his brother's mausoleum, unlocking the wrought-iron doors slowly.
He lights the candle there. He isn't afraid of ghosts in the cemetery, because the demons in his head are louder and more terrifying. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the box of Batman Pocky, laying it on the grave.
"Hey, Batman," Ulquiorra greets, glancing up at the stars. "It's me." He smirks slightly at the childhood moniker. "I miss you, and your funny nickname. But of all things, why did you have to pick Batman? I guess it's only fair. You were the one who was not given a name," he continues," as if you had no right to exist because of your deformity. But I was... -am- your twin brother. I still cannot understand how he could do this to his own flesh and blood.
"I ran into Father again, a few weeks ago, in an elevator of all places. He looks older now; withered and helpless." He remembers how Mr. Aizen had adjusted his father's tie, and how terror had flooded the old man's eyes for a brief moment. "I am close to our revenge, brother. And Mr. Aizen is the man who is helping me do it."
Ulquiorra lowers his head, studying the name on the marble. "But ... there is a woman. She makes me doubt if what we are doing is right. It used to be so clear to me; revenge for you was like a compass pointing north, and I could see no other direction. And she is confusing my head, making me ... feel things. I should not leave Mr. Aizen at this critical point in our plan. But he is going to destroy her. If I don't let him take her, then she will destroy me." His voice drops to a whisper. "She may destroy me anyway."
The expression on her face as she read the poem to him earlier tonight comes back to him, and he feels his chest tighten. "I have to go," he tells his brother, touching the marble gently. "Sleep well, Batman."
As Ulquiorra gets into the drivers' seat, he notices Mr. Aizen's work briefcase in the backseat. It is not closed properly. Frowning, he reaches for it, pushing it open, and finds the girl's sketchpad, tossed in haphazardly. He pulls it out, wanting to see her rendition of him as a demon with bat-wings again.
It is a compelling image, and something inside him echoes the dark anguish on the creature's face. And he remembers his own brother's distorted limbs. He finds it interesting that the woman drew something that resembles his twin's deformities, with his face on that body, and finds himself wondering about her motivations.
Curiously, he flips the page. His eyes widen. He flips to the next page, and the next, lost in thought as he sees images of himself through her eyes. Then, he slams it shut, his heart pounding and his head full of confusion.
Ulquiorra feels like his chest is going to burst. His eyes slide over to the sketchpad beside him.
His mind clears and a strange calm settles him. Suddenly, he knows what to do. He has to give her back the sketchbook, he is certain of that. Right now, in fact.
Ulquiorra starts the car, driving out of the cemetery with a resolute look on his face.
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Orihime feels the world start to tip and sway
"Oh dear," Mr. Aizen murmurs, crossing around the table to stand at her side. "Are you quite alright, Miss Inoue?"
"My head is spinning," she whispers, closing her eyes experimentally. The whirling speeds up when she does that, so she pops her eyes open again. "Call me Orihime, please." It's hilarious that none of them can call her by her name. Now she has more names! Bunny, Hime-chan, Miss Inoue, woman ... she tries not to laugh because her head is so heavy.
"Did you like the dessert, Orihime?" Mr. Aizen murmurs in her ear. She struggles to open one eye, and finds him seated next to her now. It is perfectly natural for her to give in to gravity and lean her head on Mr. Aizen's shoulder. His whole body stills under her cheek. She can hear his harsh breathing.
"Yes, I like chocolate cake. How did you know I like chocolate cake?" Orihime tries to smile but her face is too heavy.
He smiles at her indulgently. "Orihime, you are adorable," Mr. Aizen croons, cupping her cheeks in his hands. His hands are cold against her flushed skin. Did he just sniff her hair? She is not sure.
Wrong. He should not be touching her like this. Not him.
No, this is wrong. He tilts her face up to his. She cannot open her eyes more than a sliver, but he leans forward, and for a moment she feels him brush his lips against hers.
"No!" she squeaks, lurching backwards, almost tipping the chair over. Mr. Aizen grabs her wrist, keeping her from falling. "Why did- Why did you do that, Mr. Aizen?" Orihime feels like crying now. She misses Ulquiorra and doesn't understand what Mr. Aizen is doing to her.
"Dear Orihime, I was only trying to make you feel better. You look so sad," he tells her, brushing away the bangs from her forehead. "Little girls like you should not have to be sad at all. Did you like my presents? Your dress is so pretty; you are so cute tonight."
A wave of guilt swamps Orihime. Of course he is only trying to be nice. He has done so many nice things for her already. She should not be ungrateful. "And if you want to, I can make it all better," he says, running a finger down her nose.
Her forehead creases. "I'm so dizzy." She thinks she sees a flash of annoyance on his face, but it is gone instantly.
"Would you like to lie down? I have extra rooms at my house, I can take you there." He pats the back of her hand soothingly. She can only stare at it, as her senses are completely dulled. Then, there is a flash of blue.
"Grimmy." Orihime sighs, staggering slightly. "Hi! I was just talking to Mr. Aizen. Right here! Mr. Aizen, you are so nice. So nice. Grimmy told me about the old man and you had someone take care of him before he died. You really are so nice. Thank you!" She lurches towards him, trying to hug him, but a pair of hands on her shoulders stops her.
"Oi, Grimmy," she complains, her cheeks twitching from her smile. "Mr. Aizen is so nice. But Ulquiorra went away." She misses the telling glance that Mr. Aizen sends to Grimmjow, and rises unsteadily to her feet. "Is there an earthquake? Why is the floor moving?" She lurches forward. Thankfully, Grimmjow catches her.
"Orihime, you've had too much to drink," Mr. Aizen says, getting up as well. "Please, stay at my house until you feel better. Grimmjow can carry you over. We can take my helicopter."
"Nononono, I don't drink. I don't," Orihime insists, peeling her face from Grimmjow's armpit. "So how can I be drunk?"
Wordlessly Grimmjow picks her up, bridal-style."But, but, where is Ulquiorra? Will I see him again if I go to your house?"
Mr. Aizen smiles. "Of course."
'''Kay then," she hiccups. "Grimmy, you have to put me down. I'm too heavy. I can walk." At her insistence, the three of them make their way through the building slowly. A dark-haired man with one eye joins them, bowing to Mr. Aizen deeply.
"Orihime, this is Nnoitra," Mr. Aizen introduces them. The lanky man eyes her, and bows stiffly.
"Oh! Are you a pirate?" she asks, giggling. He doesn't answer.
Grimm holds her up when her knees give out, thanks to the elevator descending. Tier and two other people join them in the lobby as well. Introductions are made, but Orihime has trouble remembering their names. "Starrk," the tall man tells her with a grin. "But you can call me Coyote, and this is Lilynette." He gestures to a girl with light green hair, wearing a crop-top under her long coat, who does not look impressed.
"So pretty," Orihime says to her. "Are you also friends of Mr. Aizen's?" The girl rolls her eyes, ignoring her.
"Lilynette, Orihime asked you a question," Mr. Aizen says in a mild tone.
Lilynette pales and nods in reply. "Y-yes," she mumbles, lowering her eyes.
The group finally makes it to the front entryway, with Mr. Aizen in the back flanked by Coyote and Lilynette. Nnoitra's assistant bows deeply, meeting them at the bottom of the stairs.
Suddenly, there is a loud pop and Grimmjow falls to the ground, cursing. Orihime loses her balance, landing on her knees. She doesn't understand what is going on, why Grimmjow is covered in blood. Disoriented, she looks around.
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"Hello, everyone." The man reveals himself finally, enjoying the shock in Aizen's eyes.
"Luppi Antenor," the boss breathes out. Tier Harribel jumps between them hastily, herding him back behind Starrk and Lilynette to form a protective wall around him.
"Miss me?" Luppi chuckles, enjoying the curses of Grimmjow. "And bastard, don't ever think you replaced me. Thought you killed me? You're going to have to fucking try harder."
Nnoitra rushes him with a hastily drawn gun, and Luppi shoots him between the eyes. "That's for killing my father, asshole. Have fun in hell," Luppi snarls.
Nnoitra is dead before he hits the ground, a trail of blood dripping from the hole in his head. His assistant, Tesla, loses his composure, throwing himself over the body with a wail.
Harribel takes that opportunity to fire at Luppi, but she misses, catching the side of his hoodie. Luppi smiles, diving behind a pillar to reload. "Starrk, Lily, take Mr. Aizen to the helicopter, and get him out of here." The two behind her nod, covering their boss as the three of them make a run for it. Harribel dives for cover as well, hiding behind a statue.
"No, you can't leave!" Luppi howls, firing at the retreating trio from where he is hidden. "Aizen must die!"
They make it successfully around him, skirting the perimeter. The pilot starts up the rotors. He fires indiscriminately at the helicopter, bullets flying everywhere. Even then, Mr. Aizen manages to get into the helicopter, diving in from the other side. Starrk throws Lilynette in, and jumps in behind her.
The helicopter lifts off into the night sky, disappearing. Luppi curses as his clip empties, throwing out his useless gun and pulling out another from his sock. Cautiously, he peeks out. Since Aizen has escaped, he cannot die tonight. Hastily formulating a change of plans, he reloads his gun,
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Orihime notices Grimmjow's blood on her hands, her eyes wide. Then she looks up at the man peering from behind the pillar, her heart in her throat. "You! I've seen you in the coffeeshop, always with your brewed coffee."
"Think harder. Do you remember me yet?" he taunts her. Her eyes widen. She does not answer, lost in memory.
She is coming home from school, exhausted, after a birthday that is largely ignored by her classmates. The front door is open. There is a smell in the air; sweet and metallic, wafting out the door. Did Sora come home early today?
A girl is leaving her apartment, a white ribbon in her hair. She meets Orihime's glance, then smiles, pushing past her. Orihime takes a step back, confused. 'Why is she coming out of my house?' she wonders, turning to watch the girl, dressed in white, walk away. But her hands are stained red... and she had lavender eyes.
Orihime opens the door, seeing the red puddle on the floor. Her horrified eyes follow the trail of red smears to the leg sticking out from behind the sofa. Her legs feel like lead. She takes a step. Then another. Then she sees her brother's broken body on the ground.
All she can do is scream, wishing there was a way she could reject this reality.
"You," Orihime whispers again, with unseeing eyes as the memories come rushing back. "You killed my brother."
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"Damn it." Ichigo snarls, trying to kick the door open. "Someone messed up the lock."
Ishida watches the gunfire on the monitors, gazing worriedly at his partner. "Hurry. There are two men down, maybe more soon."
"I fucking know that, okay?" Ichigo shoves the doors one last time before they burst open. Ishida joins him, donning on a bulletproof vest with the word POLICE emblazoned on the back. They sprint towards the gates as fast as they can. Just as they reach it, the black Bentley rounds the corner, crashing into the wooden barrier leading to the driveway, and blocking all entry, foot or auto.
"What the hell- " Ichigo growls, ready to jump over the car. Ishida is more circumspect, pulling his partner back as Ulquiorra emerges from the car, gun at the ready. Bullets fly inside the gate, and they are outgunned and unprepared.
"Come on, Kurosaki. Let's wait for backup to get here," Ishida sighs, dragging a furiously struggling Ichigo back into the police van. "There is no way we can get in there, and it is safer for us to stay out of it. Aizen is long gone, there is no need for us to run in and get ourselves shot." Ichigo scuffles with him briefly, trying to head into the fray.
Losing his temper, Ishida grabs his handcuffs, locking Ichigo's wrist to the handle above the window. "Stay there and don't make me tape your mouth."
Curses greet his pronouncement. Sighing, Ishida pulls out the roll of duct tape.
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Luppi peers out carefully, spotting Harribel hissing into a cellphone. He takes advantage of her distraction, crawling over to where Grimmjow is gripping his injured arm, blood seeping through his fingers. Orihime is lost in her own world, kneeling next to him.
"Hey, mongrel," Luppi giggles. "Does it hurt?"
"Shut up, fucker. You're supposed to be dead," the blue-haired man grinds out at him.
"Well, if you did your job right, I would be," Luppi snickers. "Pushing me off a bridge like that. Tsk, tsk. It's a very basic rule. Even elementary school kids can tell you that. Always make sure you see the body of your target. You didn't even bother to check if I was dead." He taps the barrel of his gun against Grimm's head. "Lazy."
Grimmjow tenses and closes his eyes, but Luppi has other plans. "Oh, no, I won't kill you yet. I saw how you and Cuatro fawned over this girl." He runs his gun up Orihime's cheek, but she does not respond. "Oh, I think I broke her." He giggles like a psychopath as he pushes her chin up with the barrel.
She stares at him with her blank grey eyes. Grimmjow struggles into a sitting position. "What the hell are you going to do, Antenor?" he growls.
"I wish Ulquiorra could see me blow her brains out. I never did like that prick," Luppi sighs, checking for Harribel. "But I'll have to settle for you. I'm kind of on a time crunch since Aizen got away. So, her first, then you."
Luppi aims the gun at Orihime. "Did you know that your brother cried when I shot him? I told him I was your classmate, and he let me in, thinking I was there to celebrate your birthday. Then he begged me not to take him away from you. He cried like a baby. But I killed him anyway." He smiles as Grimmjow rises to a sitting position. "Well, at least I'll be reuniting both of you. You're welcome."
The blue-haired man turns the girl's face away, burying it into his good shoulder. "Misplaced chivalry, Jaegerjaques?" Luppi snorts, rising to his knees. "That's rich, coming from you. Oh, well. Bye-bye, Orihime."
His fingers tighten on the trigger, but he hears the loud report of a gun from nearby. Confused, he glances down at his hand, feeling something drip on his hand. It is blood. He looks up, seeing the girl's dress spattered with even more blood, coming from his direction. Then, he turns to see Ulquiorra's cold green eyes from behind the barrel of a smoking gun.
"Asshole," he gasps out, reaching towards Ulquiorra, before everything goes dark.
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"Cifer just killed him." Ishida gasps, dumbfounded. Muffled noises have him reaching back and ripping the duct tape off Ichigo's mouth, both of their eyes glued to the monitors.
Beside him, Ichigo stares at the screen, unable to believe his eyes. "Do we know who the shooter is?" He pulls at the handcuffs halfheartedly. Ishida tosses him a key, rewinding the video and zooming in the shooter's face. Cross-referencing it with the Tokyo Police database, he pulls up a file.
"Luppi Antenor, deceased. Died four years ago. Son of Keita Toyama, who was found dead one month ago. Huh. That would explain why Aizen and the others were so surprised. Well, he's really dead now," Ishida muses. "Technically, is it still murder if Cifer killed a dead man in self-defense?"
"What the hell, that's the girl I saw earlier. She was outside when I was on the phone with Rukia. Damn it. I guess it was a he. Cifer executed him at point-blank range." Ichigo growls, tossing the handcuffs on the table. "We have it on video. Let's go arrest him."
"But we don't have Aizen," Ishida points out. "Which was the whole point of the operation. We cannot compromise the mission now."
Ichigo kicks the door in frustration. "So, what, we just leave the dead bodies there and walk away? Why are we policemen, then?"
Ishida grabs his arm. "That's why we're Inspectors, and not rookies. Kurosaki, think about the bigger picture. Backup is on the way, we can wait for them. But remember the mission. We have to get Aizen to make this all count. We can't show our hand yet."
Ichigo sits on the fender of the van, head bowed. "We will take Aizen down, if it's the last thing I do," he vows.
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After eliminating the former Sexta, Ulquiorra notes that Grimmjow is still keeping Orihime's head turned into his shoulder. It annoys him that she is so docilely allowing it, but Ulquiorra has some business to attend to.
Kicking Luppi's body over, he checks for a pulse. None. "Is he dead?" Grimmjow calls.
Ulquiorra nods, rising to his feet. He walks past the fallen Nnoitra, whose assistant is lying prostrate over his body, sobbing hysterically, towards Tier Harribel, who is barking orders into her phone while dabbing at a cut on her cheek.
"Tier," he says quietly, interrupting her, "thank you for calling to warn me about Luppi." He tries not to think about what would have happened if he had been a minute late, and he does not like the tremor in his knees.
She lowers her phone, her eyes sharp. "No, good job on finishing him off. I could not get a clear shot. I've called Szayel Aporro Granz to take care of Grimmjow. He is on his way. As for Nnoitra...," her voice trails off. "Well, we have a crew coming although one of the neighbours may have called the police."
"Tier, please take care of the clean-up." Ulquiorra says, his gaze resting on the girl. "I need to take her away from here before the police arrive."
"Wait a minute," Tier protests, hands on hips, but the Cuatro has turned away, striding back towards Grimmjow. The sirens are audible in the distance.
Ulquiorra goes down on one knee, carefully helping Orihime to her feet. Casting a quick glance at Grimmjow, he asks, "Will you be alright? Szayel Aporro is coming, and there will be police and a clean up crew here soon. I must get her out."
Grimmjow flashes him a weak smirk, blood gushing around the hand he has clamped on his injured arm. "I'll be fine, Ulquiorra, but... I'm glad you came back. By the way, she was already drunk before we ran into Luppi. He made her relive her brother's death, so... just be careful, okay? Take care of our Hime."
The Sexta is lucky he is injured, and that Ulquiorra owes him for protecting her, or else he would be eating Ulquiorra's fist for presuming to claim her. He does not bother to reply, swinging her up carefully in his arms, her purse dangling from his arm.
Orihime is too still, her eyes blank and glassy. She hangs in his arms limply, as if she was not inhabiting her body at the moment. This concerns Ulquiorra, but his main priority now is to get her out of here. He slides her into the passenger seat of the Bentley, and she lets him arrange her like a doll, her face looking out the window. Carefully, he snaps her seatbelt on, giving her hands a slight squeeze before arranging them in her lap.
His home would probably be the safest place for her tonight, Ulquiorra decides, closing her door before rounding the car. Backing out of the ruined gate, he eases the Bentley into the now deserted streets of Tokyo. He scans the road quickly, noting that there is no foot traffic, and only a parked van on the corner. The Bentley turns the corner just as the sirens arrive on the street, and he drives past an Arrancar cleanup crew en route to the museum.
He glances at her, as she stares, unblinking, out the window. Probably shock and trauma, he guesses, but Ulquiorra suspects she should not be alone when she emerges from the protective cocoon that her mind has wrapped her in. Ulquiorra comes to terms with the fact that this woman has gotten under his skin in some way.
A large part of him is fiercely happy that she is alive. Perhaps the time to face the truth about how he feels for her is coming soon. But for now, he needs to protect her.
...
