Disclaimer : Bleach does not belong to me, nor does bentley or batman. Boo.
A/N: wow. You guys must have really hated the last chapter. That's okay, it was really intense. We are slowly cranking up the tension too, so it'll be a wild ride. Hang in there, guys, and buckle up. :D
Big hugs to lilarin, who is awesome as usual. Sun-sun! Thanks for my hot man update.
Thanks to: LHisAwesome4ever, Safira 1718, The Clawed Butterfly, Jeany Dei Xzz, Grumpy Del San 13. But please, if you love it or hate it, let me know what you're thinking. Feedback gets more writing done and I would appreciate knowing what you're thinking. :D Love you guys.
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Aizen lifts his head as his wayward subordinate strides into his home office. He gives the younger man a cursory once-over, although as expected, Ulquiorra looks exactly the same as yesterday, with slightly shorter hair. Tier Harribel comes in on his heels, looking a lot more disheveled and haggard.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Aizen." Ulquiorra bows at a proper 45-degree angle, his gaze respectfully averted. The blonde Espada bows as well.
"Excellent, you're both here. Please give your report first, Tier." Aizen sips his coffee, a mild frown between his brows the only sign of emotion on his face.
"Yes, sir." Harribel clears her throat, checking out her tablet. "Four years ago, after Luppi was discovered giving insider information to his father, he was thrown off a bridge by Grimm-"
"Yes, yes, I am aware of that. I was there," Aizen drawls, a touch of impatience in his voice."Skip the parts I know." Tier lifts startled eyes to him, and bows again. Ulquiorra's face does not change expression at his outburst.
"He survived the fall, and was plotting with his father ever since. And when we traced his aliases and his last known address, there was evidence that he had been planning the ambush for some time. And sir – may I please have a look at your watch?" Tier asks politely.
Aizen unstraps his own watch, studying it, before bursting into laughter. "A bug on my watch. How pedestrian. I cannot believe I overlooked it, and my Espada as well. I wonder how Luppi had gotten past you all to plant a bug on my watch," he sighs, tossing it to Tier´s feet. Cold fury seeps through his façade. He sees her shoulders tighten. Good. He wants her afraid.
But now is not the time to alienate his Espada; although they are paid insanely well, Aizen knows that fear and loyalty are the only things keeping them close, and a fine balance must be kept at all times. "However... Luppi was an Espada, and a Sexta at that. I suppose it can't be helped. Continue, Tier." He waves his hand, indicating that she resume her report.
"Y-yes. And that's how he was able to figure out the plans for yesterday's event. He came in with the intention of assassinating Nnoitra, Grimmjow, and you, sir, as far as we know. Luppi succeeded in eliminating Nnoitra, with a gunshot to the head. Luppi also incapacitated Grimmjow by shooting him in the arm, and Tesla with a blow to the temples. Ulquiorra was taking the car back home on your orders, but he had not gotten very far before I managed to call him as backup, shortly after you left. He arrived and terminated Luppi with a fatal shot to the head," Tier explains.
At his nod of acknowledgment, she continues "The cleanup crew arrived right after the police did, but we managed to hold off the authorities long enough to dispose of the bodies and all the evidence. The Nezu museum's entryway has been scrubbed of evidence, and we turned off all the video feeds before the evening started."
"What about the girl?" Aizen asks, turning to Ulquiorra.
"I took her to a safe location and kept her there overnight," he responds, looking straight ahead.
"I was disappointed that you took that action without consulting me first." Aizen chides, studying his Cuatro. "In fact, I was beginning to doubt your loyalty." He leans his cheek on his fist. "You sent me that text telling us you were incommunicado until today. What was that about, Ulquiorra? By the way, Harribel, you can leave." The blonde Espada bows again, her eyes darting to the man next to her. Whirling around on her heels, she heads out the door, closing it behind her. Aizen gestures for him to continue.
"The woman was in shock, and in a vulnerable position. I took advantage of that and moved her to a secure location," Ulquiorra states calmly.
"But after I went to all the trouble of sending her to the spa and getting her a Shihoin dress, I did want to play with her a little." Aizen remarks, tracing the rim of his cup with a fingertip. The Espada does not so much as flicker an eyelid, remaining impassive. "Did you at least fuck her? Would have been a shame to let that go to waste."
"It was necessary to gain her trust in order to get her to reveal the information we required." Ulquiorra replies tonelessly. Aizen scans his face for a moment and lets out a sharp bark of laughter. "Of course! You saw an opportunity and took it." The boss beams proudly, clapping his hands. "You're a cold bastard, Ulquiorra Cifer."
It was three years in Aizen's employ before Ulquiorra stopped flinching at the use of his own last name. For some reason, today, Aizen wants to puncture the Cuatro's impenetrable wall of ice. "Just like your father."
If he wasn't watching Ulquiorra so closely, he would have missed the tightening of the younger man's jaw. Aizen feels a rush of satisfaction at this. "Was she any good?"
Ulquiorra does not reply, averting his eyes. Waiting a beat to drive his point home, Aizen continues, "Good thing I know you so well, Ulquiorra. You only did this because you thought this was the best course of action, and not out of any attachment to the woman, correct? If it were any other Espada, I wouldn't be so fond of sharing my toys. Eh, no matter. She is just a naïve little girl. Well, I guess you made her a woman, yes?" He throws a wink at his poker-faced subordinate. "And all the files?"
"Are secured, sir," Ulquiorra finishes in his monotone.
"Excellent. Good job killing Luppi. I know you hate cleaning up after other people's mistakes, and I'm going to have to punish Grimmjow for screwing up that hit. Think of the girl as your reward, then." Aizen sips the rest of his coffee, and wipes his lips on a napkin. "By the way, remember how we bankrupted Toyama and forced him to sell his business to us?"
Ulquiorra raises unreadable green eyes to meet his.
Aizen smiles gleefully. "We're about to do the same to your father. I know you've been following the news. Cifer Corp stocks have been sinking steadily for a while now. They may be hitting bottom soon. We've got a meeting with your daddy dearest to finalize the sale of your family's company this Friday. I want you to sit in on that meeting. You've almost got your revenge, Ulquiorra."
The Cuatro's hands clench into fists. This is probably the most emotion Ulquiorra has ever displayed in front of him, Aizen muses. "Will you be coming?"
"Yes." The intensity in the younger man's eyes has Aizen smirking.
"Excellent. I think it's best if we let it leak to the media that Las Noches is going to be acquiring the failing Cifer Corp. That should ensure a rise in the stocks once we have acquired it." Aizen steeples his fingers, rocking back in his chair.
Ulquiorra nods, a steely glint in his eye. "Yes, Mr. Aizen."
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The white van has been parked in front of Ulquiorra's front gate for the past three days. He notices it on the first day; a narrow-faced man with glasses sits in the drivers' seat, reading a manga.
Ulquiorra vaguely remembers seeing car the night of the Nezu Museum incident, but mostly he knows it from the coffee shop, perpetually parked at the curb. Definitely police-issue; the bars on the grill are a dead giveaway, and the fake logo on the side for a delivery company.
On Wednesday, he drives out in his black BMW, ready to head to work. As the front gates slide open, the main driveway is blocked by an irate red-headed delivery man, who is now dressed in what seems to be the dress code of policemen everywhere; dirty jeans, a wrinkled white t-shirt, a black leather jacket, a badge on a chain around his neck, and hands on hips.
To annoy him, Ulquiorra guns the engine, pulling the brakes at the last minute. The car coasts to a halt two inches from the man's denim jeans. He is gratified to see beads of sweat form on the man's forehead, but has to give him points for not budging.
He turns off the car, sliding out. "Yes, Ichigo Kurosaki?" Ulquiorra stands just inside the gates, hands folded behind his back. It makes sense that the delivery man is actually a policeman, now that he thinks about it, for all the surreptitious glances that the man sent his way. Not a very good one, though.
"Ulquiorra Cifer," Kurosaki replies coolly, pulling off his sunglasses. How very cliched, Ulquiorra thinks, mentally rolling his eyes. He holds his silence, knowing it will annoy the man.
"We have you on video for manslaughter," the policeman continues, hands on his hips.
"Are you arresting me?" the Espada asks, his tone mildly interested. Kurosaki narrows his eyes. Ulquiorra waits patiently for an answer.
"What did you do with Orihime's property?"
'Nice deflection,' Ulquiorra thinks, 'but not good enough.' Aloud, he asks, "Which property you are referring to?"
"You know what I am talking about," comes the reply. Ah, so this is a fishing expedition. Too lazy to do your research?
"Are you accusing me of a crime-" he pauses, reaching over to read the badge. "-Inspector Kurosaki? Because if you are, you must read me my rights. And I have a right to legal counsel." Ulquiorra straightens up, looking the other man in the eye. "So, am I under arrest? Or are you merely harassing me?"
Watching the frustration build in the policeman's amber eyes is deeply satisfying. "I thought so." Ulquiorra finishes, turning back around to head to his car. "Good day, Inspector."
"Wait," the man calls desperately.
Ulquiorra sighs. "This is rapidly becoming less and less amusing, Kurosaki," he pronounces, casting a bored look over his shoulder.
"As Orihime's friend," Kurosaki begins. Ulquiorra quickly snuffs out the urge to do violence at the mere mention of her name by this piece of trash. How dare he. "I assume you're done with her, Cifer. Then stay away from her, please. She's been through enough."
"I see you've appointed yourself her protector." Ulquiorra's voice is low and mocking. "Then keep her safe. If you cannot, then get out of the way."
"She knows the truth now, about what you do, about what Aizen truly does, what he represents. And she still clings to the hope that you'll come back to her," Kurosaki bites out. "She thinks she's in love with you. We both know what kind of a man you are, and now that you've gotten what you need from her, just please leave her alone. She does not stand a chance against you, or Aizen. Leave her out of this."
Ulquiorra is tempted to plant his fist into the other man's face, for daring to intervene. "She cries too much," he says instead. "It was tedious and boring, all that naïveté. I'm glad to be done with her. Not that it matters, policeman. It's not like you authorities could do anything to protect her. Not from someone with the resources at Mr. Aizen's disposal. I can find her, anytime I want to. She is nothing more than a mere girl, a plaything."
'Reverse psychology is really underrated,' Ulquiorra muses. 'Especially on simpletons.' Now the seed has been planted, he can practically hear the gears spinning in Kurosaki's brain. The orange-haired man hisses out, "You bastard. I will hide her from you and keep her safe."
Because of where he is standing, the policeman cannot see the slight smirk cross Ulquiorra's lips. "You can try."
Ulquiorra slips back into the driver's seat, flooring the gas pedal. The car lurches forward.
Kurosaki dives out of the way, cursing.
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"Yo, Ulquiorra." The Cuatro looks up from his desk to find Grimmjow standing in the doorway, his arm in a cast. It was Grimmjow's first day back, and Ulquiorra heard that he had spent the day getting chewed out by Mr. Aizen for his carelessness in the botched dismissal of Luppi four years ago.
"Grimmjow." Ulquiorra utters his name with the same enthusiasm one would have for a root canal, looking up from his laptop to the blue-haired man. Despite his pallor, Grimmjow looks surprisingly energetic. "What is it?"
"I need a drink, man." The taller man folds himself into the seat in Ulquiorra's office, whining about unfair lectures and cockroaches who should stay dead. Ulquiorra listens with half an ear, skimming through the reports of his father's company holdings, and how they would be integrated into the rest of Las Noches in preparation for the next day's meeting.
After noticing that his complaints are being ignored, Grimmjow rises to his feet. "Ulq, it's 9:30 PM. Time for you to clock out. Let's go get a drink. Celebrate my being alive!"
Sighing, the dark-haired man lets Grimmjow herd him out of the door and down the stairs to the garage. Why not, Ulquiorra figures. It beats going home. "Let's take my car!" the Sexta says, digging into his pocket for the keys.
Ulquiorra eyes his sling suspiciously. "Can you drive with that?"
"Sure I can!" Grimmjow chortles, unlocking the doors.
'He is remarkably chipper for someone in his state,' Ulquiorra reflects, entering the passenger seat. As soon as seatbelts are buckled, Grimmjow takes off.
And then Ulquiorra remembers, too late, why he always drives when he is with Grimmjow; even with two functioning arms, Grimmjow drives like a maniac.
'I must be going senile,' Ulquiorra thinks, grabbing the handle above the door with both hands, 'forgetting something so basic. Death by bullet would be less stressful than this.'
"Do you want me to drive?" he offers, as Grimmjow takes a sharp turn.
Grimmjow grins, all teeth. "Why, are you scared, Cuatro?" Ulquiorra decides to ignore him and hope for the best, staring out the window.
"So, what happened last Saturday after you took our Hime-chan away?" Grimmjow cajoles, leaning his sling on the window sill. Ulquiorra does not answer. "She sent me a text on Sunday night, asking about you. What do you want me to tell her?"
That I miss her desperately. That I can't go home anymore because her memory has tainted every surface she touched. That I can still taste her skin. That I'm sorry it has to be this way. "Say whatever you want," he replies instead in his usual monotone. "It does not matter."
Grimmjow smiles his feral grin. "I knew you would say that." Too late, Ulquiorra realizes that they are near the coffee shop.
"I thought we were going for a drink," Ulquiorra frowns, his brows furrowing. The Sexta parks the car in a jerky motion.
"We are. Coffee is a drink." Grimmjow exits the vehicle, slamming the door. Ulquiorra has no choice but to follow suit.
"I'm not going in there," he mutters, eyes narrowed as he plants himself on the car's hood. "They're probably closing soon. I do not wish to talk to her."
"Come on, I want to see the bunny!" the blue-haired man whines. "I haven't seen her since Saturday. It's Thursday!"
"Do not drag me into this." Ulquiorra says coldly. "The job is over, Grimmjow, if you recall. We no longer need to be around the woman."
"Hypocrite, you were hanging around her long before we were given the mission." Grimmjow points out. "And we're friends with her now. So what's the harm in seeing her again?"
Ulquiorra grabs the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, feeling the beginnings of a headache. "Do you not understand? You place her in danger by simply being around her. And she must not see me, under any circumstances. I took her brother's evidence from her without her consent" visibly annoyed, he curtly adds, "Do you think she will be angry with me? No, she will run to me with open arms and tears in her eyes because that is how much she is lacking in common sense and self-respect. No, I do not wish to see her, and if you call yourself her friend, neither should you."
Grimmjow scowls. "Well let me just grab a fucking coffee then."
"Do not tell her I am here." Ulquiorra reiterates, his eyes dark. Grimmjow nods sulkily, walking away.
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Orihime looks up as the bells jingle on the door. "Grimmy!" she gasps. Feeling her heart kick up, she looks behind him, but it seems that he is alone.
"Grimmjow! We're closing now but you've got great timing." Chizuru greets from beside her. "What happened to your arm?"
The blue-haired man gives her his most innocent smile. "Would you believe I fell down?" He saunters over to the counter, flashing his teeth. Orihime averts her eyes.
"Hey, did you know Ichigo is also a policeman? I just found out the other day!" Chizuru blurts out. "I wonder why he was doing deliveries. Maybe a cop's salary is not very big, eh?"
Grimmjow blinks at her. "Who is Ichigo?"
"Oh, our regular delivery guy. Orange hair, super nice?" Chizuru chirps. Orihime tugs her out of the way, to get her to stop blabbering. "You met him at Orihime's."
"That guy..." Grimmjow's eyes zero in on Orihime, "is a cop?" She turns away, heading to the espresso counter. The mixture of wariness and suspicion on his face pretty much confirms the accusations that Ichigo had made.
"Chizuru, stop gossiping about other customers and take his order," Orihime hisses.
"Yeah. Strange, huh?" Chizuru shrugs, swiping her key on the counter. "Is it just you today? What about Grumpy Cat?"
"Grumpy Cat, I like that. Heh. Totally suits him. I'm going to use that." Grimmjow snickers, the subject completely changed. "What does he usually get?"
"A double espresso," Orihime blurts out, her eyes snapping to his. Grimmjow gives her a small wave.
"But one time he got the Earl Grey tea to go," Chizuru points out. Orihime turns to her, remembering that, and wondering why.
"Well, I'll have a caramel frappuccino then. For me." Grimmjow says casually. Orihime moves to make his drink as Chizuru rings in the order. "And I guess a double espresso and an Earl whatsit."
Orihime's head jerks up again. "Is he here?"
Grimmjow scratches his chin. "Well, I can't rightly say... but I will be seeing him later."
"Grimm, how is he doing?" Orihime asks in a quieter tone.
He looks at her for a long moment, and shrugs."Seems the same to me." She feels her chest ache at the words, and focuses on finishing the drinks. Forcing a smile on her face, she hands him the tray of drinks. "Have a good evening."
As he leaves, Orihime impulsively grabs two pastry bags, placing a cookie and a croissant in them, chasing him out the door. "Grimmy, wait."
The blue-haired man stops, giving her a crooked smile. "Eh, bunny?"
She stops in front of him. "Thank you for... for covering my eyes, that night." Holding up the bags, she looks up at him. Grimmjow eyes the packages, the tips of his ears suspiciously red as he accepts them. "I had to wash off your blood from my hands and... I'm so happy you're okay, Grimmjow. I wish I had called you to check on you right after. I am a terrible friend. You had to come here instead of me visiting you when you were sick. I'm sorry."
"Uh, that's okay." Grimmjow says awkwardly. "I'm here now, no big deal." They stand in silence for a moment, before she looks up at him again.
"Grimmy, is Ulquiorra mad at me?" she asks in a small voice. "I haven't heard from him since we- since Sunday morning. He isn't replying to my calls or messages."
The man is visibly uncomfortable at her question. "I... Maybe you should let the matter go, Hime-chan," he says kindly. "Just let it go. I know you really like him. But he's not... he does not feel things."
Biting her lip, she nods. "I see. Well," giving him a wobbly smile, Orihime presses a kiss to her fingertips and touches his elbow. "I hope your arm heals soon, Grimmjow. Come visit again."
She turns and runs inside, dashing her sleeve against her eyes briefly before Chizuru catches on. 'Maybe Ichigo and Rukia were correct,' she thinks with a sigh. 'Maybe Ulquiorra really did just use me.'
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From behind a tree, Ulquiorra drinks in the sight of Orihime as she opens the door and re-enters the coffee shop mere feet from him. This is what he has been reduced to; skulking in front of windows, hiding behind shrubbery, just to catch a glimpse of her. Pathetic.
He is glad, although he is also irritated that it was so easy for someone like Grimmjow to gain access to her, and this after his conversation with Kurosaki. 'So much for police protection,' he snorts to himself, allowing one last look at her fiery hair through the fogged-up window. Sinking his cold hands into his pockets, he walks over to Grimmjow. "Need a hand?"
Grimmjow just stares at him, a strangely sorrowful look in his eyes. Avoiding them, Ulquiorra notices the Earl Grey and the double shot of espresso. "Did you tell her I was here?" he inquires flatly, taking the tray and pulling out the frappuccino. Grimmjow takes it, shaking his head.
"Here, Grumpy Cat, she gave us this too." Grimmjow hands him the bag containing the cookie.
Ulquiorra slips it into his pocket, ignoring the nickname. "Are we done here? I need to go somewhere," he murmurs, his gaze resting on the tea.
The taller man shrugs, giving up. "Do you want me to drive you?"
"No." Just the thought of letting Grimmjow drive him anywhere else has a cold sweat breaking on Ulquiorra's skin. "Thank you, but no. Good night. I will see you tomorrow."
He waits until the Jaguar's taillights speed away, then flags down a taxi. "Aoyama Cemetery, please," he tells the driver, setting the drinks down on the seat beside him.
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"I can't believe I forgot it's my brother's birthday." Orihime says despondently to Chizuru, as they lock the doors. "I'll have to grab oranges from the convenience store and run to the cemetery." She is frustrated with herself; having been distracted by the thoughts of Ulquiorra, the date had just slipped her mind.
This past week has been an emotional rollercoaster for her; after the night she spent with him, and then the silence, and the thought that he may have had something to do with Sora's murder. Oh, and the fact that he shot a man who was trying to kill her. This crush on him is getting to be a full-blown obsession, one that she does not want.
"But Hime-chan, it's 10:30 pm, way too late to go to the cemetery. It may not be safe," Chizuru points out, zipping up her parka against the cold. She looks at the sky worriedly; the clouds look ominous as well.
Orihime shakes her head stubbornly. "It's my brother. Seven years, and I have never missed it yet," she declares. "I'm not about to start now."
Chizuru tries to talk her out of it as they sprint to the late-night grocery, but Orihime will not be deterred. "Fine," Chizuru sighs finally. "But I'm coming with you. May I sleep over?" Orihime nods, touched by her friend's concern.
The pink-haired girl calls her mother on her cellphone outside while Orihime heads into the store to get some fruit.
The redhead goes to the fruit section, grabbing a bag of oranges, Sora's favourite. On her way to the counter, she spots a shelf of superhero themed candies. She stares at it for a moment, remembering the story of Ulquiorra's unnamed twin brother, and her heart twists. Without pausing to examine her own motives, she grabs the Batman package and throws it into her basket.
Soon, the two girls are on the bus. "Are you sure you want to go to a cemetery at midnight, Hime-chan?" Chizuru asks worriedly as thunder rumbles.
"I have to, it's Sora's birthday." Orihime insists. "But really, you don't have to do come with me."
Chizuru sighs. "Hime-chan. It's safer for you to go with someone else." She punches Orihime's arm playfully. "You get into too much trouble by yourself. You've been so gloomy lately too, since Ichigo and his friends came by on Sunday. Did they say something to upset you? I had no idea he was a policeman until you told me."
Orihime regrets crying in the back room after Ichigo's visit on Sunday. In a weak moment, she had blurted out their friend's true occupation to Chizuru. However, the bespectacled girl truly has her best interests at heart, and Orihime cannot help but hug her. "No, it's fine, Chizu-chan," she says quietly. "I'm just coming to terms with something that is hard to accept."
The smaller girl wraps her arm around Orihime's shoulders. "It'll get better, Hime-chan. I promise."
...
A/N: ooo, cliffhanger. Well, once again, please read and review to let me know what you think! Cheers.