Another little chapter for you all.

Akane glanced at her watch. It read 16:45. She had been waiting for Ulquiorra to arrive for fifteen minutes, and despite saying that she would wait for thirty minutes, she was starting to believe that he would never come. Resting her head on the top on her feminine and delicate hand she gazed out of the window, watching new snowflakes fall to the ground, settling on the thick layers of old snow. She sighed heavily, her face sullen as she continued to wait and hope.

"Looks to me like you're gaining something called emotion, Ulquiorra." The voice was irritatingly familiar. Ulquiorra turned, surprised by who was behind him.

"Is it your plan to haunt me?" The dark haired man asked bitterly.

"No, I'll be moving on soon enough." The knife wound was still visible on the ghost of Grimmjow. "Personally, I can't understand how ghosts can have ghosts, but apparently they can." The tall man looked down at his toes, wiggling them as if to prove to himself that he existed.

"Leave me." Ulquiorra ordered.

"Look, Ulquiorra. I don't like you very much, you don't like me – we know that. But that girl likes you and you quite obviously return the feeling. You've made yourself out to be this cold, emotionless being who feels nothing. I know that isn't true. I saw you look back at my corpse, you couldn't quite believe it. I also know that if you didn't care about that human girl you wouldn't have gone to see her yesterday." Grimmjow grinned smugly, pleased with himself. "How can you move on with your afterlife when your previous life still haunts you?" Ulquiorra froze, his anger rising. "I see I hit a nerve." Grimmjow growled, leaning against the wall of the fourth Espada's room. Ulquiorra turned, his hand outstretched in an attempt to kill the spectre that taunted him. "That's not going to work. I can't be touched." With an irritated growl Ulquiorra lowered his hand before moving towards Grimmjow. He shoved his hand towards the blue haired man's chest only to find that it shot straight through. "As I said - no point."

"Leave me alone, you worthless trash."

"Oooo, touchy." The dead man snorted. "However, I can't leave you until you promise me you'll go see that girl. Even if it's to tell her that you can never see her again, go to her."

"If I do that, will you leave me?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll go." Ulquiorra sounded displeased by the result, but it meant that the ghost of Grimmjow's ghost would at least stop bothering him.

"Goodbye, number four." The blue haired ghost began to fade, his whole body vanishing until there was nothing left but the room in which Ulquiorra slept. The pale man growled angrily as he left his room and headed towards the portal that led to the human world.

16:59. Akane rose from her seat, disappointed and upset. She had been stood up, and although she had been half expecting him not to show, the disappointment was crippling. She brushed her skirt down and straightened it a little, removing the creases caused by sitting for a prolonged period of time. After adjusting her shirt, she went to pick up her bag, her face carrying an expression of anguish. It was only when she looked up that she had seen the pallid man from the previous day - their eyes met. "You came..." She trailed off, her surprise evident.

"Yes, I did."

"Uh, please, sit down." Hastily, she threw her bag back down onto the floor before resuming her seat. Ulquiorra took his opposite her, his gaze avoiding hers. He felt uncomfortable in such a social situation. "Well," she began. "How are you, Ulquiorra?" He was surprised that she remembered his name.

"I'm well." He paused. "Thank you." He supposed that she expected him to ask after her and so proceeded to ask how she was.

"I'm great, thank you. I had a good day at school, didn't get much homework and now I'm ready to relax." She grinned. It was more information than the Espada had expected or wanted. He merely nodded in response. "Do you work or go to school?" She inquired. He wasn't sure how to answer that one; it was certainly a question he had hoped to avoid.

"I," He paused to think. "I am homeschooled." It was a thick lie, he should have told her he worked.

"That's interesting. Do you have many friends then?"

"No."

"I hear that's common in homeschooling." He made no reply. "Do you want a coffee?" She offered. "Considering we're in a coffee shop."

"No, thank you."

"Is there anything you want?"

"No."

"Alright then, I'll be right back."

She returned with a cup of thick and steaming coffee, the bitter odour of coffee beans surrounding them both. He watched as she poured sugar and milk into it, something to take away the heat and bitter taste. Using a long, thin wooden stick she stirred her added ingredients into the brew, the steam swirling around the stick as if in an attempt to grab it. She spoke to him for over an hour, with him making the occasional brief response to her continuous chatter. Her talking had irritated him when he first met her, but as she continued to speak he grew less annoyed by the sound of her voice. He wondered why, why she had become a less irritating human being. Perhaps Syzal had been right about his feelings, perhaps this was what they called love. Regardless of what it was, there would be no chance of him admitting such things either to himself or others.

Months passed. The snow melted away, releasing its grasp on the frozen grass, allowing it to thaw and absorb the sun's rays once more. The grass breathed, the sun poured new life into the formerly barren earth. Dark clouds formed like oppressive rulers of the sky and let rain fall from their heavy sacks of water. Plants and trees drank the rain greedily, gulping it down with every rainfall. Animals dragged themselves from long winter sleeps and out into the sun to find fresh and delicious foods. Birds sang harmonious tunes, alerting the world that the winter was over and spring had finally arrived. Amidst the rain and sun two people stood - an Espada and a human, a man and a woman. The sun tried to punish his pale skin, attempted to dye it a bright and ghastly red, but it was not able. The girl shaded herself from the sun's cruel rays with a baseball cap, the front protecting her eyes and face. Nearly every day, they stood there. Where the snowmen had once been and the flowers now grow. They would drink cups of cool and icy lemonade when the sun heated the ground and air, but when the rain poured down in angry rivers they would sit under the shade of the great Oak tree and drink steaming coffee from thick polystyrene cups. There was a certain change about the pallid man, something in his eyes were different. There was joy behind the cold and emotionless mask that he wore. There was joy, and there was peace.