Chapter 8

The Next Day

Was awkward, to say the least. I didn't really know

what to expect.

Would Ulquiorra now ignore me, toss me aside for

turning him down?

I really hoped not. Because even though he had basically

molested me, I

had kind of let him. [Oops.] But when he walked in, it

was completely

not what I had been expecting. He was holding a white

uniform that

looked a little like the one he himself was wearing. I

mean, white with

hints of black here and there. It was draped over his arm,

and when he

shut the door behind him, and I knew we were alone and

no one was

going to walk in or disturb us, my heart started racing and

I felt lightheaded.

"What's that?" I managed to get past my swollen tongue. He

gave me a

look. This look wasn't special in any way since as far as I

could gather, he

had about one facial expression. He held up the uniform. Lord

Aizen wishes you

to wear this, he said to me. As a part of your new life here, you

have been asked

to dress similarly to the Arrancar that inhabit Hueco Mundo.

Even as he

said it, I knew I hadn't been asked by Aizen. I'd been commanded.

And Aizen's orders

had to be followed. That didn't stop me from looking longingly

at my school

uniform – I never thought I'd say this, but I didn't want to give

it up. "What

about my uniform?" I dared to ask. I imagined that if Ulquiorra

had the physical

ability to screw up his face in disgust, he would do it. Give it

to me, he

ordered. It will be disposed of accordingly. For some reason, I

felt myself

blinking back tears. I shook my head and sighed, holding my hands

out for the

uniform. "Then can I please put it on?" I said, but he made no

move to give

it to me. Get undressed first, and then I'll hand you the

garment. I knit

my brows. [Surely he didn't just say that.] "W-what?" I

stammer, and

those green eyes bore into me. Surely you heard me. The

instruction was

not a difficult one. I swallowed hard and dropped my gaze,

lowering my

hands to my waistline and grasping the hem of my sweater

vest and pulling

it slowly over my head. It landed in a heap on the floor. Next

my fingers

went to the red bow at my neck, picking at the knot; finally

it slithered free

and fell down my body like a scarlet snake. I lowered my

hands to the

buttons on my shirt, but my fingers were shaking so badly

I could barely

grasp the slick surfaces. Do you need help? he asked me,

his voice almost

snide. But I shook my head quickly, keeping my face hidden.

A tear slid

down my cheek; my hands were shaking even harder now.

[Would Ichigo

do this?] Of course not. Ichigo was gentle, he was respectful.

Again, the

exact opposite of Ulquiorra, who held respect for no one –

with the possible

exception of Aizen. Finally my hands found the last button

and slipped it

from its confinement. I slowly slid the white fabric from

my shoulders,

hating the way my bra pushed my breasts together, hating

how big and

magnetizing they were, hating the way that Ulquiorra's eyes

were drawn to

the magnet. The material slid from my fingertips and when

it hit the

floor I looked up at Ulquiorra. He glanced at me, his gaze

burning. He

held my gaze, though; not looking down until more noise

grabbed his

attention. I fumbled with the zipper on the side of my gray

skirt, pulling

it down shakily, yanking it when it got snagged. I let it fall

and stepped out

of it, feeling ridiculous in my socks, shoes, and underwear. I

quickly scraped

my shoes from my feet, bending down to roll off my socks.

When I stood,

I clutched my arms around myself, curling my bare toes

over and over.

"May I…" I choked and restarted. "May I have my clothes

now?" I

whimpered a little, feeling my hair dancing across my back.

He nodded and

stepped forward, giving me the outfit. Somehow I found

the opening

and raised a foot to step inside, but hesitated. I glanced

at him, and

immediately regretted it. His gaze was burning again, staring

at my face,

then at my body. I realized too late that I was giving him

full access to

my cleavage and hopped quickly into the dress, which I

soon discovered

was just a pair of very loose pants and there was a whole

'nother top part.

I slipped this on also, letting myself relax a little now that

I was decently

covered. I then put on the belt, socks, sandals; yada, yada. I

looked back at

Ulquiorra when I had finished, watching the fire in his eyes

freeze just like

someone had doused it in water. "How do I look?" I asked,

smoothing the

skirt/pants. Like an Espada, he said, then paused. I waited for

the add-on

that I knew was coming. And I was right. But I liked you

better without

it. I frowned. "You like my World of the Living clothes?" I

asked, confused.

He shook his head. No. And just like that, he was gone. I stared,

confused, after

him, my emotions roiling like thunderclouds beneath my

skin. Because

even though he'd almost forced me to strip naked for his own

twisted reasons,

I still couldn't hate him. I did still love Ichigo. My heart

began aching

whenever I allowed my thoughts to dwell on him. But there

was just something

about Ulquiorra; and beneath his dark, almost perverse ways,

I was beginning

to think that…maybe I loved Ulquiorra as well as Ichigo.