The Hollow and The Halcyon

by MockingbirdSoul

Can the Espada be forced to reform and serve the Soul Society in the human world? Or will their loyalties lie with the kind-hearted human girl next door? [NOTE: Under Revision - Read at your own risk]

11. Chapter 11: Connection

The Hollow and The Halcyon

Chapter 11: Luminescence

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A/N: Sorry about the late update. My schedule has been thrown way off by work and personal affairs, but who cares about my petty problems?

I'll admit, I was a little disheartened by last chapter's reception, but I strive to improve my writing. Hopefully this one is better. It's the longest one yet! Enjoy and thank you so much for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach the anime or the manga.

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11:53 a.m.

That was what was reflected back to him from the puny glass screen of this human innovation called a cell phone. The tiny thing was so easily enveloped in the colossal expanse of his hand that he could only imagine what kind of dilemma it would be for Yammy and his gargantuan size. The thought of his ireful brother's hapless struggle brought a smirk to his thin lips, just before his long fingers brought the burning cigarette to them.

Nnoitra held in the smoke before parting his lips to let the fumes ooze out like ash-colored vapor into the air. The stinging stench of smoke invaded the virginal, clean air like an malignant miasma, so pungent that its thick grasp could suffocate someone upon that lethal inhalation.

Yeah, it was dark, but the thought made his wide grin spread even wider.

As he leaned back against the hard brick wall corner of a shopping plaza, a breeze blew by, making a few pesky bangs tangle in the corners of his eyes. He cursed as he attempted to put the untamed locks back in their place. The one thing he hated about short hair was the way it got so damn messy all the time, especially on windy days like this. Granted, long hair sometimes got in the way of fighting, but it wasn't nearly as bothersome.

While fixing the disarray of onyx strands, a faint memory from long ago escaped the dark vaults of his mind.

"Would you permit me to cut your hair if it is troubling you, Master Nnoitra?" Tesla asked innocently.

Nnoitra tilted his head lazily in the direction of his persistent fracciónes, and gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Shut the hell up, Tesla." He mumbled, still sulking over Aizen's ungodly penance of house arrest in his chamber, all for eradicating a horde of worthless hollows.

"It's just that it seems to be bothering you..." He continued meekly.

"I said leave it." Nnoitra said louder, and with more spite than he had intended. All the while, he had been toying with a few stray dark locks that had grown out past his collarbone. It had gotten longer than he'd intended, but he had been too distracted to level it himself. The extra weight was starting to irk him in battle and his daily routine.

Maybe he should let Tesla cut it?

"Your hair is getting far too long." Neliel chastised him not long after. "It'll get in your way once you're on the battlefield. Take it from a long-haired girl like me."

"Fuck you, bitch."

It was then that he decided he'd delay cutting it just to show her that something as silly as hair couldn't obstruct his superior fighting ability.

Those were the days.

"Uggghh." Nnoitra grimaced before inhaling the dark fumes of his joint deeply.

It was pitiable how sentimental he sounded, like some old person looking back at the past. To be fair, hollows had nothing but past experiences to reflect on. As a ghost, the concept of a future was null, since there was no life to move forward for. His narrow eyes carried their gaze over the humans moving along so easily to their fragile understanding of the time in this world; they all kept moving in a linear direction, guided by the allotment of time that accompanied life. It was a complicated understanding, but the survival of hollows in Hueco Mundo wasn't really living, just an existence. That cruel truth was something that they never forgot. It was what enticed them to satiate themselves to whatever extent they could, despite the futility of their actions. That mindless indulgence was all that distracted them from the dismal reality of death.

That thought tended to pester him after each of his battles. Nnoitra could spend hours, maybe even days out on a battlefield just so that the feeling of emptiness was temporarily vanquished. Combat really was his only escape from that void that encompassed every being in Hueco Mundo. It was the same for every hollow, he knew, but he was just a little more dependent than others on that irresistible high.

"It sounds like you're addicted."

The memory of former Neliel's lecture brought an impulsive scowl to his face, especially considering that she had been right all along. He hated it when she was right, something which was, regrettably, a common occurence.

Well...not anymore, anyway.

Nnoitra shook his head to banish those few odd thoughts that bothered him over that particular subject. He blew out a few more dark wisps of smoke, watching as ash crumbled and fell to the cold ground at his feet. He was out of stock, so he'd snatch a few more from the old man's room later. He fell back against the solid edge of the wall, and stretched out his arms, until his eye caught the faint light of illuminated numbers that spelled out the time.

11:57 a.m.

Just a few more minutes before their break ended. His other siblings may groan at the workload they had, but their hours long opportunities to fight were all he really had to look forward to. So long as he could fight, he felt content.

So long as he could thrive on that intoxicating ecstasy of battle, he was satiated.

A dainty cough sounded at his side. He didn't have to look over to recognize the infuriatingly girly voice, but it took him quite a bit of restraint not to instinctively scowl.

"What do ya want?"

"Heeeeyy..." Neliel pouted up at him. Nnoitra seethed at the unsightly expression on the former warrior's face.

"Is that any way to greet your comrade?" She admonished, with her brow furrowing in a manner similar to a child upset with an insufficient amount of attention.

"Gimme a break." He muttered as he blew out more smoke fumes. She coughed again and waved the murky air away with a wince on her face.

"Jeez, could you make a bigger fog cloud?" She whined. "I think there's a flock of birds that dropped dead after flying by."

"Oh, grow up." Nnoitra glared at her as he crushed the cigarette underneath his sneaker. "It's just a little smoke. We've taken worse from Hueco Mundo's sand storms."

"Ugh. Figures, you sound just like Gramps." The childish girl rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I just came to say the break's almost over, and the Reapers want us at the town square in five."

"Bout damn time." He said, stretching his arms above his head again. "They didn't come get me themselves?"

"No." She answered with an easy shrug. "Szayel sent me."

Figures. Nnoitra thought, rolling his eyes.

"Whatever." He muttered, and proceeded to walk ahead.

Within a few brisk strides, Nnoitra was already a few feet in front of Neliel, who was half-jogging behind to keep up.

"Wait up!"

"Can't ya walk faster?" He threw a glare back to her small, zippy little form.

"I can't help it!" She protested. "You're legs are too long!"

With an deeply displeased groan, Nnoitra ignored her and her irksome clamoring, and breezed ahead further. It'd be better for him to arrive without that annoying woman tailing him like some lost puppy; no doubt Szayel would give him complete shit for it.

"You two never change." Szayel drawled, smirking mischievously at the two former Espada arguing over who got to take possession of the television remote.

That four-eyed bastard. While the other Espada had agreed on spot, Nnoitra was in complete disagreement with the claim. Yeah, he and Neliel still argued on a daily basis, but not the way they used to. Before, their confrontations were ignited like flames over their differences in fighting, behaving, and rationalizing their new existence as Arrancar; they held meaning.

That was before he got rid of her from Las Noches; before the name Neliel Tu Oderschvank disappeared like dust in the winds of Hueco Mundo. That woman and her arguments were gone now.

All that was left was this teary-eyed little girl to bicker with. Nothing more.

Nothing more.

As he walked along the crowded sidewalk, he whipped out his cell phone to silence the flurry of messages from Neliel, accosting him to wait for her. All the while on his way to patrol, he scoped out a few of the women on the streets. They weren't quite as striking as Arrancar females, but they were exotic in their own way, smiling and sauntering so easily around him. Not bad. He spotted a few hotties every now and then, but none so fascinating as the Espadas' cute little neighbor.

Thinking of the pretty little redhead next door brought an elastic grin to his face. It always amused him whenever her scared eyes widened in his presence. He took satisfaction in being the particular Espada to frighten her senseless. Her only safety net among the Espada was, again, dogging Neliel, who was always hostile towards Nnoitra when it came to the girl.

Actually...his certain dark-haired comrade was also quite protective of his old pet; he was always so guarded around her. The smirk on his face widened into a broad grin. Nnoitra didn't know exactly what was up between Ulquiorra and the human girl, or what exactly had happened during their alone time in Las Noches, but it surely seemed to have left something permanent on his cold-blooded brother.

Heh. So you're a man after all, Ul...

Feeling bored, he tossed the sleek device up in the air repeatedly, watching the light streak across smooth scarlet surface, creating a red glow in its path. Watching the orientation of sunlight was something that always captured his attention. Back in Hueco Mundo, the artificial light in Las Noches wasn't created by a sun; they had no such light in the Hollow World. The idea of a rotational light source around this planet gave an essence of time. Likewise to their defunct concept of a chronology to their existence, something like knowing the time was a new privilege they had in this human world. Humans may not know it, but that big ball of light hovering above them was what gave them all the essence of time that existed only in life. It may seem like a quirky observation, but it was true.

Death was a timeless void. Nothing embodied the idea of eternity more so than the absolute end of it all, and nothing was more absolute than death. Even if Hollows were able to rest, their sleep cycles didn't constitute days or nights in the Hueco Mundo. The canopy of Las Noches, created by Aizen, was resembled what they knew as 'daytime', but they could not be fooled by such mimicry.

Granted, nothing was more burdensome than having time constrict its limits around you, but it gave a sense of motion and actuality in the world of the living. That was one of the things he found that he was content with in this bland human world. Having some form of a daily routine in tune with the rotating schedules of the sun and the moon gave him a track to run on, instead of aimlessly floating in the boring expanse of eternity. Nnoitra hadn't felt that in a long time, so he soaked up as much of that feeling as possible, just as he did with the comforting warmth of the sun.

Such was also a side benefit of fighting so often. Aside from feeling the brief rush of vivacity in his veins, it kept pushing him along, giving him reason to seek out more prey, and transcend to the position of the strongest. It gave him a sense of purpose, strength, and wholeness...

...and it passed time.

Few people could understand how much that meant to him.

"Hold it!"

Just as he was about to cross the street to the next block, a strong pair of nimble arms locked around his torso.

"Hey-!" He cried out indignantly, but his protest was interrupted by the abrupt wave of air from the rush of a bicycle, more specifically, a cyclist that speedily blazed down the bike lane. Nnoitra stood among a crowd of people bitching about damn idiots being inconsiderate and not watching where they were going. His thoughts followed a similar trail, until warm breath from a relieved sigh brushed against his back.

"That was too close." Neliel breathed against him, making the muscles in his back stiffen uncomfortably

"Okay, I get it." He said irately, unsuccessfully trying to unlatch her arms from around him. Unsuccessful because the bitch had a grip like a fucking anaconda on its prey. "Lemme go!"

"Are you kidding?" She cried with enough reproach to elicit an annoying squeak from her girlish voice. "No way in hell I'm letting you get away again!"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He barked down at her, feeling aggravated by the looks people were sending them. "How am I supposed to friggin' walk with you clinging to me like some parasite?"

"Rude!" She shrieked, looking incensed with angry, wide eyes. "Look, I'll let go so long as you promise not to leave me behind."

Nnoitra groaned, but that only made her tighten her hold on him. Why was she so damn strong for such a tiny woman? It pissed him off to no end.

"Promise me." Neliel goaded in that intolerably childish voice.

"Fine!" Nnoitra growled down at her, totally frustrated at her persistence. "I fucking promise, now get the fuck off me."

"Language." She rolled her eyes, but did unhook and slip her arms out from around him.

"Whatever." Nnoitra muttered. He began walking again, but was yanked back by another strong force.

"What?" He glared back at her, and her small, tanned hand wrapped around his large, pale wrist. The look in her owl eyes was disturbingly meek and babyish.

"Pinky swear?"

Nnoitra rolled his eyes, and stalked off again, but he reluctantly kept his pace slow for her so that she didn't fall behind. All the way, she incessantly chattered about frivolous things and wacky observations she made.

Nnoitra vaguely wondered if this was how Neliel felt whenever he would tirelessly tailed her in Las Noches. Maybe this was her fucked up way of getting payback.

Wherever the hell she was, lost in this little girl next to him.

---

Serenity unfurled like a blanket over him as soon as the lunch bell rang to dismiss the crowd of students from the classroom. Starrk finally let out a long held yawn as soon as the room had considerably cleared out. To his side, Ulquiorra lifted himself out of his seat at the windows to make way for the paper-piled mess of Starrk's desk.

"Any word from the others?" He asked in a dull tone.

Starrk shook his head, feeling the relief of having no work wash over him.

"None yet." He said in a slurred voice. "Just in time for a coffee break."

"Another?"

"Don't act like you don't want one either." Starrk shot him a knowing look, to which his black-haired brother shrugged uncaringly.

"I could use one cup." Ulquiorra said quietly. "Maybe two..."

Starrk let out a heavy, burdensome sigh.

"What's the sentence this time?" He asked, bracing himself for the worst. Ulquiorra said nothing, but sighed sullenly as he brought a neatly folded piece of paper out from his pockets.

With as much motivation as he could muster, Starrk read over the daunting errands list yet again forced on his poor, sleep-deprived class aid.

"Luckily I managed to finish most of the work during this period, but the last task needs to be taken care of now, since we'll probably be called out by the Reaper unit to serve patrol during the free period." Ul said as he craned his neck, which Starrk assumed was probably stiff from carrying boxes from class to class all period.

"This is getting ridiculous." He concluded with a scowl at the scribbles of tasks laying mockingly among the countless papers on his desk. "This is way too much work for one guy. I'll complain to the school board about this sooner or later.

"Between what little time we have for patrol hours and grading, I don't see when you would possibly get the chance." Ulquiorra answered curtly. "It isn't anything I can't handle, so there's no need for you to worry about it."

"That's a dangerous level of self-efficacy." Starrk warned, though he certainly wasn't shocked by the response. Ever the efficient machine, Starrk's brother was always on top of things. Even so, everybody has their breaking point, and he was concerned that Ul was about to meet his sooner or later with all of that work piled on him, not to mention the excess hours of fighting out on the city patrol.

"You haven't been getting a lot of sleep." Starrk reminded him. "I can tell by your irritability. Case in point: the kitchen episode this morning."

"Yammy had it coming." The Cuatra Espada said, sounding frighteningly remorseless.

"Even so, I know you've been losing a lot of rest. Last time you got a list this bad, I had to practically carry your sleeping ass to the car."

"How long will you hold that over my head?" Ulquiorra asked in a bored voice. "Are you only upset because you keep having to drive us home and back?"

"That's beside the point, but do take that suffering on my part into consideration." Starrk said. "The real problem is that you're if you're too tired, you're not on your A-game out on the field. The Reapers won't accept that."

"Clearly." Ul muttered under his breath. Starrk's brow twitched in irritated agreement, but he spoke softly to quell the negativity coming from the both of them.

"I'm only warning you not to expend too much energy. Especially since..."

Starrk's voice trailed off as his eyes involuntarily flicked to the silver necklace hanging from Ulquiorra's neck; the rieatsu-restrictive pendant that Baraggan had informed him of. Leave it to the Soul Society to assign a punishment so absurdly ineffective to their cause, simply to assert authority. The little soul design glinted wickedly in the sunlight, like the unfeeling glare of an executioner.

Ulquiorra's eyes followed to the damning pendant, and immediately placed his hand over it, as if to obscure its view in hopes of avoiding a sensitive subject.

"It's fine." He insisted with a slightly strained voice. "I actually have been getting more sleep lately because of..." He shook his head and cracked his knuckles loudly. "Never mind. The fact of the matter is that I'm fully capable of handling a few measly educational tasks. Don't needlessly worry yourself. It doesn't suit you."

He's not wrong...

Yet, Starrk couldn't help but feel the stress emitting from his overworked comrade. No doubt, all of the Espada felt overworked with their exhausting shifts out on the streets, but Starrk could sense some other form of anxiety distress his stoic brother. No matter how well Ul played the apathy card, he couldn't fool Starrk; especially not when he always caught his slitted eyes flicking back and forth from his work to a certain smiling human girl with pretty grey eyes.

Starrk had taken notice of his brother's sudden apprehension around the human girl. No doubt the two were always so awkward with each other, but once that melted away, there was a subtle implacable aura around the both of them. Even now, as his green eyes drifted over to catch a glimpse of her, Starrk could see a softer light overtake those cold, lifeless eyes as she smiled shyly at him.

"You sure, Ul?" Starrk asked again, this time almost gently.

Without hesitation, Ulquiorra flicked his eyes and back to him, and nodded devoutly.

Starrk looked into those disimpassioned eyes of his aloof brother, but found no trace of dishonesty in their green expanse. He eventually relented with a defeated sigh, but he still didn't approve.

"Just bring me a cup and I'll be fine." Ulquiorra assured.

"You're insane." He muttered tiredly.

Undaunted, Ulquiorra only looked off to the side. Starrk didn't miss how the barely visible dark circles were revealed in the warm sunlight.

"SENPAIIII!"

Of the few students left behind, a brown-haired one with an ear-to-ear grin approached from the back of the class, looking overly animated. Ulquiorra didn't react, aside from turning his head to the jaunty teenager and his quieter friend that followed.

"Yes? Keigo, right?"

"Ayyyy! You remembered!" The loud teen exclaimed excitedly as he hooked his arm around Ul's shoulders.

"It's my job to know everything about this class." Came the blunt answer from the even blunter covert hollow. "And Mizuiro, correct?"

"That's me." The milder, dark-haired boy answered with an amiable smile.

"Can I help you two?" Ulquiorra asked in a detached, mechanical voice.

"We were just wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with the rest of our guys on the rooftops." Mizuiro offered.

"Yeah, man! You're always workin' and stuff. Take a break with the boys!" Keigo insisted enthusiastically.

"Actually, I have-"

"Aww, forget the work! The teachers won't bust you since you've been doin' their work for weeks. You can totally get away with it!"

"I mean, it's your choice, Senpai." Mizuiro assured out of the politeness that his brown-haired friend seemed to lack.

"I..." Ulquiorra looked to Starrk for help, but only got a half-hearted shrug from the sleepy-eyed sensei.

"Come on, already!" Keigo droned on in a whiny voice. "Do you honestly want to do all of this crap?"

Ulquiorra parted his lips for protest, but stopped hesitantly.

"It's not a matter of wanting to, so much as-"

"I didn't hear a rejection!" Keigo cheered."Sa-weeet! Let's get goin'!"

"Cool." Mizuiro followed as Ulquiorra, wide-eyed and seemingly overwhelmed, was helplessly dragged out the class doors.

"You kids have fun." Starrk waved to the unlikely trio bounding down the halls. A sudden wave of sympathy for his brother flooded his mind as soon as they were out of sight, but then immediately dissipated like steam at the sound of a husky voice.

"What the hell was that about?"

As he turned his head, his vision was taken up by the lithe form of one of his more outspoken and tomboyish female students, coincidentally the friend of the Espadas' oppositely demure and girly neighbor. As if on cue, the copper-haired head turner appeared at her friend's side.

"I guess even Ulquiorra can't escape Keigo's friendship." She said, smiling as if that was a good thing.

"Seriously?" The brunette girl cocked a dark brow at her friend. "Can't he just knock 'em out like me and Ichigo, and make a run for it?"

"Ulquiorra's not violent like that," She insisted defensively, though surreptitiously added in a hushed tone, "...all the time."

"Tell that to Yammy..." Starrk muttered under his breath.

He hadn't expected her to pick up on his faint whisper so acutely, and balked when her friendly grey eyes widened over at him in childlike curiosity.

"What happened to Yammy?" She asked innocently.

Within a few seconds, Starrk recovered to simply shrug the matter off.

"Got knocked out this morning after hiding Ul's coffee." He replied plainly. "We had to carry his unconscious ass outta the apartment. Needless to say, that guy doesn't take jokes very well." Starrk gestured to the hall he had disappeared down with the two high school boys.

To his surprise, a soft giggle sounded from the girl in front of him. Starrk turned to her with a quizzical look, but she shook her head, and smiled.

"Over coffee?" She asked with another light laugh. "I didn't think Ulquiorra was such an addict. That's so cute..."

Not the reaction I was expecting...Yammy certainly didn't find it so funny...

Her more hardy looking friend, Tatsuki, (he remembered that was her name) arched a surprised brow at this news.

"Huh. Respectable." She said, looking impressed. "I always figured that guy had some sort of fierce side. It's always the quiet ones."

"Like Chad, Ishida, and Ichigo." The grey-eyed girl chirped. "I know too many of those kinds of guys. So how's Yammy?" She asked amicably as she turned her smile back to Starrk.

"He's taken worse, believe me." He replied nonchalantly.

"That's the big guy, right?" Tatsuki crinkled her nose as of recalling a bad memory. "I'll consider that KO by Ulquiorra retribution on my part for that day a few years ago."

"It's okay." The girl said gently, placing a comforting hand on her frowning friend's shoulder. "He's a little less wild now."

"Pfft. I'll believe it when I see it."

"You wanna see it?"

"No, thank you..."

Starrk watched the rapid exchange between the two friends back and forth, feeling the oddest mix of confusion, amusement, and perplexity as to why the three of them were still there in the classroom. Upon noticing his probably lost expression, the girl laughed almost apologetically.

"Oh! It's okay, Starrk. Tatsuki knows."

Starrk blinked a few times before settling his blue-eyed gaze on the girl's unwavering brown-eyed one.

"You know?" He asked with a raised brow.

"I know." The tomboy replied with an affirmative nod. "About you guys, about Ichigo, and about the Reapers."

"The Soul Society didn't wipe her memory, since she was deemed trustworthy." Her friend explained with a proud smile, like a satisfied parent at their child's achievement.

Wouldn't mind that privilege myself...Starrk thought bitterly.

"Though, I don't really see any benefit in my knowing of it." Tatsuki shrugged uncaringly. "It's not that hard of a secret to keep either, so I don't know why Ichigo bitches about it so much."

At that point, Starrk realized that the whole class was empty save for him and these two odd human girls. It was strikingly abnormal talking to humans like this, especially considering Starrk's track record for killing off every being he came in contact with. These girls, who apparently knew exactly who and what he was, should definitely be able to feel his now repressed spiritual pressure, and should still feel wary of him; but they talked casually and affably with him as if he were an actual high school teacher.

Especially the girl next door...Orihime. The way that she smiled so warmly and offered such an openly kind light in her grey eyes was something that wasn't common among people, humans and hollows alike, especially in the face of a former enemy.

Starrk could see why Ul was so absorbed in her.

"I see." He eventually muttered carefully.

"I would say something like 'you're secret's safe with me', but you don't look like the type to tolerate such clichés, sensei." Tatsuki shrugged in a laid-back manner similar to a certain someone he knew, but couldn't quite place in that spur of the moment.

"I see." He repeated awkwardly, feeling almost uncomfortable in this unusual situation.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" Orihime's eyes lit up in remembrance of something. "Did you get your book?"

Why was it that this girl's saccharine amiability always pulled the rug out from underneath him? Starrk blinked again before reaching into his binder to pull out the thin hardcover book he received yesterday after Ulquiorra's and Tia's patrol.

"Yeah, that one!" She happily confirmed with a cheerful smile. "Ulquiorra told me that you specifically asked for it, and I thought it was so coincidental that I just read the same book a few weeks ago."

"Ulquiorra...told you?" Starrk asked in confusion and intrigue. When did this happen?

"Well, actually, I was kinda...there." She laughed sheepishly. "I was with my friend Rukia, and we happened to run into Ulquiorra and Halibel there. What a coincidence, right?"

Indeed...and suspicious...why didn't Ul mention that? More importantly, why didn't Tia? That's what Lilynette was bitching about yesterday? How annoying...

Starrk only hummed in response.

"It's such a nice read. I hope you enjoy it." She said with another one of those warm smiles she did so well.

Feeling tongue-tied again, Starrk merely choked out a brief, "Likewise."

"Yeah, yeah, that's nice and all, but can we please get to lunch?" Tatsuki hooked her arm in her friend's, looking pleading and impatient. "My mom's potato salad isn't gonna eat itself. Not like your Franken-food."

"Hey." The redheaded girl pouted. Then she turned her pretty eyes over to Starrk. "Are you going to eat in here?"

"I'm actually going to the office to a file complaint." He muttered too carelessly. He really needed to keep his guard up around this girl, and her amazingly keen perception. Her head did a double take at his ambiguous statement.

"A complaint?" She asked as a concerned tone graced her sweet-pitched voice. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh great..." Tatsuki muttered, bringing her fingertips to the bridge of her nose.

Starrk could have brushed if off, but looking into those watery, grey eyes was like falling and drowning in a lake. For whatever reason, it drew the truth out of him with more persuasion than an interrogation officer.

"Just in regard to all of the work Ul has to do." He answered as objectively as he could. "That or I'll get him an extension to work on it later."

"Oh yeah." Her voice dropped to a sad whisper. A flash of sympathy caught in her silvery eyes. "He's been working a lot."

"He was gone all period to do other work." Tatsuki suddenly said quite quietly.

"At least he isn't still falling asleep in class." Orihime said with a sort of sad smile on her face.

Starrk's eyes immediately darted up to the girl after recalling something. Her wide eyes found his before they fell downcast in what looked like embarrassment.

"Um...he woke up that time..." She mumbled awkwardly.

"Obviously. You were actually with him?" He inquired, feeling far more interested than he should have. What else was Ulquiorra not telling him? Just how much time was he spending with this girl?

"Y-yeah, I was..." She tried for a sheepish smile. "We just...talked for a while."

"A while?" Tatsuki suddenly arched her brow. "Is this about that time when you ditched us and skipped lunch altogether last week?"

"I didn't ditch!" She cried out. "I told you, I just lost track of time. I said I was sorry."

"I didn't say you had to apologize." Tatsuki thumped her arm lightly. "I was just wondering what took you so long to get your lunch."

"Well, we just got caught in conversation." Orihime insisted. "One of the topics was all of the work he had to do...is he okay?"

Hell if I knew...

"Hard to tell." He answered in a quiet murmur, before he flicked his tired eyes up to her large, blinking ones. "Try asking him yourself." He suggested.

"You do seem to be quite chummy with him." Tatsuki added in a suspicious tone.

While blushing profusely from the implications of the conversation, the girl had a pensive look on her face as if actually considering the offer. Starrk dropped his eyes from both girls to the thin, metallic slip of white peeking out from his pocket. He was overcome with a strong urge to call Ulquiorra to discuss the matter further with him, but he decided against it.

What the hell was he doing gossiping with two schoolgirls about his own comrade?

Man, I need some coffee... He mentally complained.

He stood abruptly from the desk and quietly excused himself from the two chatting girls. Just as he was about to exit through the doors, he stopped midway.

More accurately, he was stopped.

"What does he have to do for today?"

Both pairs of eyes, blue and brown, looked over in surprise at the suddenly firm sound of the Orihime's soft voice.

"Why do you ask?" He and Tatsuki echoed each other.

Neither of them missed how scarlet splashed onto her cheeks in sudden embarrassment.

"Well, I was just wondering if...maybe..."

As she tried to formulate a credible response, Starrk found that he was, yet again, taken aback by her unpredictable nature. A brief moment flashed in his eyes, of Baraggan's warning to Ulquiorra over this very human girl. At the time, he hadnt necessarily understood the need for caution, but as it turns out, Baraggan was right. She was something special; the only human thus far he found completely deviant from the rest of her kind.

---

Gusts of soft wind sifted through the bright orange spikes of hair that crowned Karakura High's toughest, and also most misunderstood, 'delinquent', sitting on the rooftops with his other muscular and mislabeled friend. Ichigo and Chad sat against the belfry of the school's main building, eating their bento, and quietly chatting about clandestine affairs while waiting for the rest of their lunch mates to arrive.

By 'clandestine affairs', Ichigo wasn't referring to anything scandalous. No, nothing of that variety, unless a Soul Reaper being forced into cooperative partnership with a hollow, a natural enemy, could be considered gossip-worthy by the Soul Society's Women's League.

"How is the parole going?" Chad asked while taking a bite of his sushi roll. "I mean, the partnership?"

Ichigo blew a few spikes up from his forehead before sighing along with the gentle wind.

"Terrible." He answered darkly. "Callin' it a partnership is way too big a stretch. It's more like forced cooperation. Not only is it unmanageable, but it's just such a drag."

"Is it Grimmjow?" Chad asked tentatively.

"Kinda, but..." Ichigo faltered to scowl at the ground beneath them. The shadow of his intertwined fingers resembled the convergence of two sides of a battle, with darkness shaded over each warring party.

Partnership my ass. He thought pessimistically.

This probation agreement decided by the Soul Society had sounded like a far-fetched farce to begin with, but actually having to bear through with it was tougher than Ichigo had thought. Not only was he losing a huge chunk of time for schoolwork, but also a near unhealthy amount of sleep in trying to finish all of his work. Just this morning, Yuzu had fretfully pointed out that he was getting bags underneath his eyes. Explaining the reasons for being out so late was a pain since he couldn't reveal his otherworldly occupation to anyone. As a result, his overly imaginative family fit their own puzzle pieces to surmise three conclusions that he was either involved in some crime syndicate, an ilicit relationship, or just goofing off with his friends.

Sighing, he slouched back against the belfry side, and brought his rough fingers to his sweaty brow. He closed his eyes, feeling the sunlight pierce the skin of his eyelids a pale scarlet. Even after considerably cooling off, the sun's hot rays soaked into him, with harsh warmth pulsating in accordance to his suddenly sedate heartbeat.

"But what?" He heard Chad's serene voice along with the chipper whistle of the wind. He opened his amber eyes to find the azure skies further illuminated by the golden light seeping out from the resplendent halo that encompassed the sun.

"It's complicated. I figured it'd just be hours of us getting in screaming matches, but he doesn't even get mad." Ichigo explained in frustration. "He just messes with me, and the next minute he totally ignores me, and then just takes off on his own. So freakin' annoying."

Chad nodded along as Ichigo bitched and moaned about his Arrancar partner. It made Ichigo feel a bit guilty that he was burdening his friend with his own petty problems, but Chad had always been a good listener (not that Ichigo was as needy as Tatsuki made him out to be).

"I'm not sure what his problem is, but isn't it best if you two stay clear of each other anyway?" He pointed out. "It seems as though you two can't get along, so maybe he's avoiding you to avoid another fight."

"Could be, but that doesn't explain why he goes to the greatest lengths to drive me insane." Ichigo muttered.

"Maybe he just needs a laugh." Chad suggested, but Ichigo elbowed his arm at the teasing undertones hidden in his friend's deep voice. "I'm only saying, it's kind of entertaining to see you blow a fuse."

"So my pain brings him pleasure? Sadly, I can believe it." Ichigo grumbled as he tore a bite out of his sandwich. "That doesn't exactly push along the alliance sentiment that we're trying to achieve."

Chad's deep set eyes were on him for a while until the low rumble of his voice rang clear in the silent afternoon.

"You really want this 'peace' to work out now?"

Hesitantly, Ichigo nodded his head in agreement. He couldn't lie to himself; as much as he detested the idea of spending so much time with his former enemy, Ichigo had hoped that after a week, they would have arrived at some sort of mutual understanding. It was a fleeting vision of peace that he was naive to hold on to, but he couldn't help it. Sure they were getting their work done, finishing off hollows and defending the city and all, but there was little 'collaboration' involved in his and Grimmjow's patrol together.

They weren't getting along. In fact, Grimmjow's reluctance to actually participate, while unsurprising, made it seem like he resented Ichigo even more.

"Tell me how much worse you're going to make mine and my friends' problems with your little Soul Reaper powers."

Ichigo let out an unheard sigh. Like he said, he wasn't surprised. It would take a lifetime for him to fully understand the bitterness of the Espada. At times, he really admired and was envious of Orihime's emotional sagacity.

"I just want don't want another Winter War." He eventually murmured out. "That time left scars, and I don't think anyone's ready to jump back into that kinda hell, especially with the Menos threat right now. If we do end up fighting, who can we trust to help us?"

"The Quincy wouldn't want anything to do with it." Chad confirmed quietly. "Even with Ishida's efforts, I doubt they would budge."

"I could have had an easier time believing in an alliance with them as opposed to the Espada." Ichigo said. "I feel like chances of another battle with them are just too likely. We can't risk that in our situation. And...":

Moments of silence passed as Chad patiently waited for Ichigo to say what was really troubling him.

"I just don't want more blood on my hands."

The wind blew by to wrap its cool embrace around him. It carried his faint whisper out into the open air, above a city full of the blissfully blind, deaf, and ignorant. Ichigo didn't have to look into Chad's eyes to know that there was a glimmer of understanding in them.

He was about to ask to trade another roll for part of his sandwich, but a loud sound, a.k.a Keigo, shattered the tranquility.

"ICHIGOOOOOO-GWAH!"

"Yo, Keigo." Ichigo replied impassively, tenderly removing his elbow from the dented area in his loud friend's skull.

"Always sooo prepared..." Keigo laughed, despite writhing in pain at Ichigo's side. "Yoooo Chad!"

"Good afternoon, Keigo." Chad greeted politely.

"Aww, quit bein' so formal, dude!" The brown-haired teen whined. "We're young! Bask in the privilege to be as much of an pretentious prick while you can!"

"I really worry for your future, Mr. Asano." Mused a light-hearted male voice.

"Quit it, Mizuiro!" Keigo cried.

Ichigo lifted his head to greet his other friend, but the words on his tongue died at the sight of three dark heads. By that, he meant, three heads of familiarly dark hair. The first two he easily recognized; smiling Mizuiro and placid Ishida, who looked particularly irked, as seen by the troubled crease in his brow, to which Ichigo attributed to the third head of dark hair aside him.

Dark hair, pale skin, and cold, inhuman, emerald eyes.

"Guess who we brought as a guest!" Keigo chirped happily, unaware of the mood shift present on the rooftops.

Ichigo felt Chad tense beside him, just as he was aware of his own gaping lips. He flicked wide, inquisitive eyes over to Ishida, who returned his stupefied gaze with a half-worried, half-apologetic knit of his brows.

"Ulquiorra..." He eventually stammered out after finding his voice. The unperturbed, glacial green of his eyes drifted over to him.

"Ichigo." He replied without hesitation.

"We thought it'd be cool if senpai could join us for lunch." Mizuiro offered up tentatively, seemingly trying to pacify the tense aura.

"I see." Ichigo replied slowly, not breaking his glaring contest with the Cuatra Espada.

"Yeah!" Keigo affirmed, standing to throw his arms over Ulquiorra's and Ishida's shoulders in a friendly gesture that the two of them had no intention of returning. "It's been almost a month since you and sensei arrived, so we wanted to get to know you better. Where exactly are you guys from? More importantly, gimme a rundown of the chicks there! Hotter than our resident Japanese babes?!"

"I'll go help him..." Chad offered generously, standing to save Ulquiorra from Keigo's assault of questions. His spot was immediately taken by Ishida, who had managed to break free of Keigo's friendship hold, while Mizuiro sat at Ichigo's other side.

"So explain to me how that," Ichigo gestured to the most unlikely trio of people he could have imagined. "Happened."

"Don't look at me." Ishida jerked his head at a guilty looking Mizuiro.

"Okay look," The calm boy held his hands up in peace. "Before you point fingers, I will duly inform you that this was all on Keigo's whim. I only went along to placate him. Plus, things have calmed down between you and senpai, so I figured it couldn't hurt to just eat with him."

"I mean, it wouldn't but..." Ichigo crossed his arms, unable to divulge the true workings of his discomfort to Mizuiro. Then again, his cordial friend wasn't wrong. The initial animosity between Ichigo and Ulquiorra had sibsided quite a bit. Still, Ichigo wouldn't consider them to be on friendly terms...just well acquainted with each other.

"You know, you never actually explained what was up with you and Ul-senpai and Starrk sensei." Mizuiro said in a careful voice. "If it's that bad, then I won't get involved anymore."

Ichigo flicked his eyes between Ishida and Mizuiro. Both friends of his had looks of understanding in their eyes, but for different reasons. Then his eyes traveled over to his green-eyed source of trepidation. In the middle of a dispute between erratic Keigo and collected Chad, Ulquiorra's blank gaze left the both of them to only briefly glance back at Ichigo.

"It's cool, Mizuiro." Ichigo assured quietly. "What's in the past is in the past. You're right. Those bad feelings are almost gone anyway, so it's no big deal."

"You sure?"

Ichigo gave a sideways look to him, before standing to his feet, and stepping up to the emotionless hollow across from him.

I am.

A cool staredown commenced; intense, but not hostile.

I'll prove it.

"Can we talk?"

---

Bloodstains streaked across the rough surface of Santa Teresa's dark, crescent blades. The ruby red patterns painted the glistening steel like art on a canvas. Nnoitra turned his eye away from the bloody beauty in just the right time to pierce the skull of an incoming Vasto Lorde. More of that beautiful blood spurted out, swayed away with the dust in the strong winds, and glittered in the golden light of the sun. His grin extended wider over his face as more prey charged to battle, practically begging him to shed their blood.

The ear-shattering screech of an Adjucha sounded from his side. It's mangled fangs snapped like a steel trap against his weapon's curved blade, but Nnoitra threw it back with a Bala. He laughed as its listless body slammed onto the concrete, but before he could let Santa Teresa dive in for the final kill, a sleeker blade nullified the lethal attack.

He didn't have to turn to know whose it was. He could always recognize Gamuza's mocking gleam.

"Neliel." He growled as he shot her a sideways glare.

Yet again, he was met with those thick, billowing waves of turquoise; frowning full lips; and those damning, glassy hazel eyes that he despised so passionately.

"That was too close." She echoed, this time with a severe tone strung around her girlish voice. "Get serious, dummy. You coulda been hurt."

Nnoitra instinctively scowled at her insufferable dogging.

"So what?" He challenged with a venomous glare, even though she was absolutely correct; had she been any later, the hollow would have died at his hands, and Nnoitra would be writhing from the pain emissions from the soul band.

"Next time, I'm not going to help you." She promised astutely, though she seemed relieved that she had arrived on time to save him.

That bitch.

"I don't need yer damn help." He felt his grip on the hilt of his weapon tighten dangerously.

Within seconds, a Reaper from her assigned unit arrived at the scene to finish off the limp Adjucha. Before the young looking male returned to his unit, he looked back at the hollow pair glaring at each other.

"Th-thank you for sparing this Menos." He gave a quick bow towards Neliel. Her eyes shifted over to him and softened at his gesture. She nodded back at him briefly before settling her intense gaze back at her brother.

"And, um..." He began as he faced Nnoitra. It didn't even take an actual glare to make the little shrimp flinch in fear.

"P-please be more c-c-careful in the future." He stammered under Nnoitra's heavy gaze.

The Quinta Espada blew up a few bangs before settling Santa Teresa on the concrete.

"Whatever, kid. Beat it."

He graciously accepted the order and bowed before flash stepping back to his comrades, who were struggling against a colony of Gillian.

Nnoitra seethed at the sight. Damn Reapers. As if they couldn't ruin the battle experience any more by swiping their kills, the amateurish runts had to be so meek about combat. They could barely hold their own against the Menos, and yet they ripped away the glory of winning from the Espada. It was a total insult to a true warrior, but they had no choice: this degrading manner of fighting was preferable to not fighting at all.

Nnoitra glared off in the Reaper's direction until Gamuza's metal hilt jabbed ferociously into his temple.

"Ow!" He held his throbbing head before glowering down at the blade's female owner. "What the hell do ya want?!"

"For you to get your act together." Neliel answered ardently, glaring up at him with equal intensity.

"What did you say?" He growled warningly.

"You already messed up four times today." She carried on with the annoying-ass draconian tone she only ever reserved for him. "That's way more than usual. The Reapers are going to get testy if you don't start taking things seriously."

"Tch. I already damn know. What? Did Szayel send you again, little messenger?" He coldly mocked her from above.

"No." She answered back with a steeled look in her eyes. "I don't need him to know when you're being stupid."

"Listen you little whore-!"

"Hey!"

The both of them turned their glares to an ireful looking Yammy, who was wrestling with a pair of heftly looking Adjuchas.

"Quit fucking with each other and help out!"

"Too much to handle for ya, Deadweight?" Nnoitra jeered maliciously. "Or ya still feelin' shaky from when Ul knocked yer bitch-ass out this morning?"

"Shut it Snake-Eyes!" The hulking Arrancar shot back. "Says you, gettin' your bitch-ass whipped by your girlfriend!"

"You wanna say that to my face?!"

"Stop fighting!" Neliel yelled in between the both of them.

"My, my!" Szayel called out from an aerial battle above them. "Can we save the bickering for the dinner table?"

"No fighting on the job!" A Reaper shouted from one of the units near Yammy. "Pay attention to the battle!"

"Oh, fuck off!" Nnoitra roared back, while charging near a colony of Gillian. Ceroes fired at him from all angles, but none could keep up with his Sonido. Down fell each Menos Grande as he undercut each's colossal legs; all the while, Reapers from above took the advantage of his attacks to target the masks from above.

"Fuckin' annoying." He muttered under the strain of one Gillian's huge foot. Forcing himself upwards, Nnoitra pierced Santa Teresa harder into the tough sole, and knocked the gargantuan creature off balance. It's roar reverberated off the skyscraper edges, ringing in his ears like a chaotic symphony to the rhythmic rushing of his blood. In the spur of the moment, Nnoitra lost himself to the consuming heat of battle. His body moved on its own: even with the powerful gales battling against him, he was rushing closer and closer by breathtaking speeds, dragging the blade of his weapon across the expanse of black skin up to the neckline, just to where the pulsating center of life breathed awaitingly for him to silence it...

All until fire coursed through his veins, poison burned every sense of his, and every nerve of his was electrified by the agony of the soul band's shock spreading pain through his body. As the Menos Grande fell forward, Nnoitra's limp body was at the mercy of gravity, and soon to be grabbed by a rampaging Adjuchas.

Until a flash of green zipped by, and more streaks of crimson highlighted the pale skies above him.

Buildings cracked, voices shouted, and various parts of him ached. Nnoitra groaned and cursed as he attempted to sit up from a pile of rubble from the alley block he just landed into. His efforts to escape the stacked debris were nullified by another burdensome weight against him.

"Oww...get off me, Neliel..." He scowled at the dust-covered face of the Tercera Espada sprawled in a heap on top of him.

"I wish I could..." She grimaced, squirming against their binding. "But my leg is caught on something."

"That's my leg." He growled as he, too, struggling from underneath her. "Get off! Yer tits are suffocating me!"

"You disgusting jerk! Don't say that!"

"Then quit fuckin' squirmin' on me! Get the hell off!"

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder!"

In the midst of their struggles, a pair of Reapers flash stepped down to their location to remove some of the rubble binding them together. As soon as the sun shined on their heated predicament, the two Reapers, a male and female, turned redder than the stains on their shikai.

"Uh...you two are free now..."

"Tch." Nnoitra shoved Neliel off of him, eliciting a yelp and indignant scowl from the hollow girl. As he stood, Nnoitra flicked his slanted eyes over to the frozen Reaper pair.

"This look like some kinda show to you?" He bared his teeth menacingly at them. "Get lost!"

They immediately complied, and flash stepped to the rest of their zippy little units trying to finish off a group of Vasto Lorde.

"Errggh..." Nnoitra winced at the throbbing in his head before scowling down at the woman still down in the rubble.

"Oww..." She shot a nasty glare up at him as she rubbed a spot on her head. "Whatever. Your welcome, by the way."

"For what?" He growled as he brushed dust bits off of his body. She also stood to her full height to pat out some of the debris that matted her floating turquoise locks.

"Nothing..." She muttered with a sour look on her face.

"No, please tell me." He challenged acerbicly. "Tell me all about how you heroically saved my ass. That's what you wanted to say, right?"

"Oh forget it. I didn't say anything." She snarled back at him, looking completely different from the normal annoyingly cheerful girl she had turned into.

"Thought you said you weren't gonna save me again?" He muttered back bitterly.

"I gave into the goodness of my heart." She answered back plainly, avoiding all eye contact with him.

"Bullshit."

There was that dangerous glare of hazel that he knew so well, yet hadn't seen in ages.

"What did you say?" She echoed his words in a tone more acidic than even he could muster.

"You heard me." He sneered spitefully. "Please. 'Goodness of my heart' my ass. We're fucking hollows, so don't try to play human with me, bitch."

"If I'm the bitch, why do you need to be saved all the time?!" She yelled at him in complete fury. "That was your fault for killing that Gillian, even though I warned you!"

The wind moaned malevolently as Nnoitra drew a vicious glare her way. His hair was flying about chaotically like black flames, but his anger was rigidly fixated on the woman below him.

"Why the hell do you even care?!" He shouted back. "Don't leave your battle just to help me when I don't need it, stupid!"

"You were gonna get hurt!" She screamed, but her large eyes shined with worry, as if she genuinely cared. Rage bubbled in him at the sight of altruism in those cold, warrior eyes that he knew too well. The wolfish howl of the wind echoed as his messy dark hair was whipped back from the darker glare of his eyes.

"So fucking what?" He growled between clenched teeth. "You wanna know why I did that? Because I can." He enunciated each word with absolute malice, feeling his stormy serpent eyes narrow down at her in contempt.

"The hell do you even care for? Are you a freakin' nanny? If they wanna put me in a timeout or torture me through this damn band," He lifted the dark soul band to let it gleam in the sun, making her furious expression falter ever so slightly.

"Then that's my problem." He lowered his voice to a venomous hiss. "Get off my ass already. You take every moment to act all high and mighty like you're some big help. Don't insult me."

The discontent in her eyes subsided a bit to make room for something akin to sympathy.

It enraged him even more.

"What's so insulting about looking out for a comrade?" She asked in that repulsively soft little voice hers. The shiny hazel flashed with disgusting sincerity.

"Don't take that 'comrade' label so seriously, dumbass." He spat. "It don't matter whether or not we're on the same side: we're not friends, Neliel. Don't act like we are."

"I'm not acting." She insisted with wide eyes.

"Save it." He concluded acidicly. "Get back to the battle."

"Nnoi-"

"Call me by that nickname, and this blade gets thrust through your throat." He threatened murderously.

Her wide eyes glimmered with the threat of angry tears, but she steeled herself against his glare with her own livid glower.

"Nnoitra."

His name nearly echoed in the raging city, amongst the onslaught of hollows that roared in the distance. With the dust blowing around them from the severe winds, the air saturated with the aura of death, and hatred swarming dangerously around them like flames, it felt like they were just outside Las Noches after a fight, breathing haggardly, bleeding, and detesting each other with all of their might.

He reveled in the feeling.

Hearing her voice, her real voice and not the girly falsetto of this 'Nel' persona, spit out his name like it was a hateful vulgarity, opened his eyes to the real Neliel, and not this broken woman he and his comrades had been reunited with. Her voice held as much contempt as he had been trying to get out of her since their days in Las Noches, but she never yielded to his assaults. He didn't want their history to be a one-sided struggle. He wanted her to hate him as much as he hated her; he wanted her to acknowledge his hatred, to acknowledge him as someone worthy of another warrior's hatred, not just some beast, something she had called him too many times to forgive, even after so many years.

It was absurd, but he wanted her to say his name again.

Before anything else could be said or done, two oppositely built figures dropped down to where they were, looking bloody, bruised, and bemused.

"Okay, break it up." Szayel lilted with a mocking motherly tone. "You kids need to stop fighting now."

"Shove it down your throat, faggot." Nnoitra shoved his bony shoulder violently. The pink-haired man only chuckled in full enjoyment of the situation. "Why're you even here?"

"This display of sexual frustration seems to be distracting our poor Reapers up there." Szayel drawled mischievously.

"Sexual-!" Neliel squeaked as a light red dusted her cheeks.

"I thought I told you guys not to fuck each other?" Yammy jeered with his arms crossed and lips spread in a smug smirk.

"Yammy!" Neliel punched the side of his arm in outrage.

"You two just can't seem to hold anything in, can you?" Szayel mused with a sadistic glimmer in the gold of his laughing eyes. "When we say 'play nice' the expression isn't meant to be taken in literal terms."

"Fuck all of you." Nnoitra spat hatefully.

He clenched his fist and grabbed Santa Teresa roughly. Before raging off to the ongoing battle, he gazed at the woman before him for a long time.

Neliel Tu Oderschvank.

More accurately, the woman she used to be. Looking at her now was appalling. The warrior that had bested him through each battle they had engaged in, was withered down to this pathetic-looking, pathetic-sounding, overall debased little girl. It pissed him off that this was what became of the woman he spent so much time hating because of her strength, her mind, and her self-proclaimed ability to see what he couldn't.

After taking her and her fracciónes out so long ago, he wanted her memory wiped clean from Hueco Mundo, so that it may never again echo in the Las Noches. He reveled in the vision of her and her weak comrades falling prey to some stronger hollows so that he'd never hear of her again, and yet she came back to haunt him. This person she had become was his doing. She would never be the same Neliel again, only this despicable creature before him.

He hated her for that almost as much as he hated himself. With one final look at her thick locks flying about in the fierce wind, Nnoitra returned to the heated embrace of calamity.

---

Strands of midnight black floated up to the azure skies, like black ink dripping into the ocean. Ulquiorra gave up his attempt to anchor the stray locks, and simply let the breeze run its gentle caress through them. The wind was far more lively than usual today. Its smooth flow was far less harsh than the abrasive gales that slithered in the pale dunes of Hueco Mundo. Even if he wasn't accustomed to it, Ulquiorra found the weather in this human world to be a preferable change to the inhospitable conditions of his former residence.

Just as he watched a few more waves of darkness stretch out to the incandescent sky, a rough voice sounded from his side.

"Wind's killer today."

He darted his eyes over to the side, where the inescapable head of bright orange spikes was just beyond his. The Substitute Soul Reaper, Ichigo Kurosaki, sat quietly with him at the edge of the school rooftop, glaring up at the sky with that fixed, trademark scowl. Even with the unintentionally sour expression, the Reaper teen's voice was more at ease than usual. As he turned his brown eyes over to meet Ulquiorra's green ones, the look on his face smoothed out into something less rigid.

"I'm assuming you didn't call me out here to discuss the weather. May I have an explanation?" Ulquiorra asked, sounding detached.

He had already been dragged to the belfry against his will when he had work to do, and the last thing he wanted was more tiresome drivel to pour out from a conversation with his former enemy. He could have excused himself politely, seeing as he didn't think the Reaper and his friends would so disappointed with his absence, but the boy staring intensely at him seemed quite adamant in speaking with him at that very moment.

The light in those amber eyes was impressively unyielding. "I just need to talk to you for a little while."

Ulquiorra resisted the urge to sigh.

"Can you specify what exactly it is that you feel the need to discuss with me?" He said a little impatiently, like a fatigued child tired from running errands with a parent.

A short rasp of breath escaped his mouth, but from the subtle smirk at the edge of his lips, Ulquiorra could tell it was a laugh. He didn't know whether to be irritated or confused.

"It's weird." Ichigo replied, still smirking. "It looks like we've switched places with each other."

"What does that mean?"

"You're the impatient guy that got dragged into a situation he doesn't want to be in, and just wants to get the hell out as soon as possible." Ichigo explained. "And I'm the patient one that has something to say, but won't say it. Sound familiar?"

Sadly, it did.

"I fail to find any humor in that observation." Ulquiorra answered bluntly.

"I never said it was funny." Ichigo pointed out. "Just weird, I guess."

The sigh escaped.

"Why am I here, Kurosaki?"

The orange-headed teen scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, seemingly trying to come up with a justifiable response; as if he didn't have the sense to do so earlier?

"I guess I-"

"You guess or you know?" Ulquiorra chided in a teacherly manner. He nearly scowled at how much he was starting to sound like Baraggan. Nel was right: this position in the educational field really was getting to him.

"Lemme start over." Ichigo held up a peaceful hand, uncharacteristically unruffled by the interruption. "I wanted to ask..."

Ulquiorra closed his eyes awaitingly, already feeling a little more than fed up with this situation. The heavy weight of his eyelids was hard to resist against, and he could feel himself slip off of the precipice of consciousness. If this kid didn't say something soon, Starrk was going to have to scour the school for Ulquiorra's listless, sleeping body...

"How's Grimmjow?"

That caught his attention. Lifeless jade met with intense amber.

"I mean," The Reaper teen continued. "Has he been acting different or anything?"

Had he heard correctly...?

Ulquiorra replied with a quizzical look. "You're his partner. Why not ask him yourself?"

"That's the thing. We don't really talk unless it's some dumb argument." Ichigo mumbled sullenly. "This probation thing you talked to me about before isn't exactly working out."

"Did you expect anything else from a man who doesn't exactly have a very high opinion of you?" Ulquiorra asked.

"Not at first." Ichigo replied rather quietly.

Gusts of wind blew the orange spikes around so ostentatiously that it was hard not to stare into the warm brown expanse of his eyes.

"What are you saying?" Ulquiorra asked, feeling a little more engaged.

It took him time to respond again, but Ulquiorra excused it this time.

"Something changed. I think it was sometime when Grimmjow ditched me downtown just last week."

"Ditched you?"

"You know, like, abandoning-"

"I know what the word means." Ulquiorra answered curtly. "You mean he leaves the patrol?"

"No, he still stays within out limits, but he just wanders off." The teen clarified with a slight furrow in his brow. "It's worse with that damn bike he's always riding away on. Where'd he even get that?"

"I wouldn't know." Ulquiorra lied and looked off to the side.

"Anyway," Ichigo continued. "I've just been noticing some weird stuff about him. Like, he's not specifically doing anything bad. He's just ignoring me. It's not like him, so it's unnerving. I was wondering if you knew what was up."

Ulquiorra eyed the teenager next to him carefully. The way his eyebrows were fixed in a worried knit indicated that he was genuinely concerned about the issue with the Espadas' resident troublemaker. To be fair, none of the Espada had any expectation for the partnership between Reaper and Arrancar to have productive results. The only reason Grimmjow wasn't starting a massive uprising over the arrangement was for his zanpakuto's sake, something they could all understand.

But had he truly changed? Ulquiorra could barely remember the last time he had spoken with his quarrelsome brother. He hadn't heard any bad news over Grimmjow's behavior, which he had considered good thing, but also disconcerting. Now that he thought about it, what was going on with his blue-haired brother? It had never occurred to Ulquiorra to consider the impact of Pantera's loss on Grimmjow, but that was only because he figured the initial shock had been quelled with the sword's return to him.

"It almost sounds as if you're worried about him."

His monotonous voice gave away no hint of teasing, but the crease in Ichigo's brow deepened in irritation.

"As if." He said defensively, almost childishly. "I just don't wanna put up with a month of his crap. Speaking of which, how long has it been anyway?"

"Starting today," Ulquiorra answered dully. "Only a week."

He practically deflated at the morose words.

"Great. Just what I wanted to hear..." He muttered miserably, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. It was almost interesting how the Substitute Reaper's cool demeanor melted away to reveal the troubled face of a stressed teenager. He certainly didn't look like the black-cloaked Shinigami warrior who stormed the Hollow World and defeated Aizen.

He looked like what he was: a boy.

Ulquiorra eased back on the opposite edge of the belfry, where Ichigo's other friends were engaged in whatever careless conversation. He could feel the rieatsus of the Quincy and Chad Yasutora steady and alert in case of any conflict. Not that Ulquiorra had any intention of starting something; he wasn't so choleric like his brothers, and even if he was, he was already sick of all of the confrontation with the Reapers.

A little peace was due after so much strife.

"I'll discuss the matter with Grimmjow." He affirmed diplomatically. "It may not be a serious offense, but the rules of probation state that he must stay within range of his governing officer. If either of you want to avoid an extension of this partnership, then you both have to play the rules."

"That's what I've been tellin' him..." Ichigo sighed out in exasperation. "Sorry to put that on you."

"Don't needlessly apologize. Grimm's never been one for collaboration." Ulquiorra replied plainly. Something about the statement made the Reaper teen balk.

"Oh." He blinked. "You call him that, too...?"

Ulquiorra broke eye contact to blink himself, and then he cracked his knuckles in contemplation.

"I usually don't..." He said both to himself and Ichigo.

The odd silence went undisturbed by nothing but the soft hymn of the peaceful wind.

"You know, I always thought you guys hated each other." Ichigo suddenly said. "But, it seems like you've kinda mellowed down. I still can't picture you two as friends though..."

"We're not friends." Ulquiorra muttered back, ignoring the slight irritated twitch of his brow. "I only tolerate him."

"Well yeah, but you guys are comrades." Ichigo persisted with an arched brow. "It's normal if you sometimes don't get along. It's kinda like how I get pissed at Ishida and Renji all the time."

"Hardly." Ulquiorra countered a little more defensively than he had intended. "Comradeship isn't friendship. The only reason I'm acquainted with him is because we're both Espada. Nothing more."

He thought he heard the teen mutter something off to the side, but no dice when he interrogated him about it. (A/N: Lol, he said 'tsundere'.)

"What I meant to say is," The Reaper continued. "That you guys are somewhat closer knit now. Back in Hueco Mundo, it didn't seem like any of you valued each other as even comrades. Like how Nnoitra attacked Grimmjow after I had defeated him..."

The crease in his brow was back, but it lingered only until a sad light washed through the bright tawny color of his eyes. They had a far away look in them, as if looking back at the memory inspired sympathy for his enemies, instead of a justified satisfaction in defeating them.

"Or like how Yammy-ah...never mind." He shook his head.

"What did Yammy do?" Ulquiorra asked. Huh. He was only just now realizing how often he had repeated that exact phrase.

"Ahmm...it's nothing."

Nothing, but he refused to look at him. Ulquiorra almost rolled his eyes.

"If it has anything to do with me, then I don't really care." He assured plainly. "In case you don't remember, our relationship wasn't anything special."

The bright-haired teen still looked uncomfortable, but gave an uneasy shrug.

"He just didn't seem all that affected after you..."

"Died?" Ulquiorra offered indifferently.

It looked like Ichigo nearly winced, but he nodded his head. "Uh, yeah. Anyway, that just didn't sit right with me. He was even insulting you. It just pissed me off."

"Like I said, we don't have the best relationship." Ulquiorra shrugged off the matter. "Just this morning, we had our own little violent episode."

"Over what?"

"Nothing important." Ulquiorra answered, though the memory still settled a negative feeling over him.

"From the looks of it, you were the one that ended up walking away." The teen stated with an arched brow.

Remorselessly, he nodded.

"Yeah, I've heard from Orihime that you guys are really rambunctious." Ichigo affirmed, thankfully not noticing the slight release of tension from Ulquiorra as soon as the girl was brought to mind.

"So she complains to you about it?"

"No, she's never one to complain about anything." Ichigo noted with a suspiciously lighter voice than usual. "She's not like that. If it comes up in a conversation, she'll just mention it offhandedly. She agrees that you guys seem a bit closer to each other."

Ulquiorra eyed him for a while before asking, "What happened to that initial animosity over our proximity to her? You seem to being her up so lightheartedly now."

Ichigo nodded his head slowly, remembering his threat to the hollow just a few weeks ago. How much had happened in just that little time that it led up to this moment?

"Like I said, you guys have kinda mellowed down, so I feel more at ease with her around you. If she's okay, then I'm okay."

There again was that serenity that seemed to drape over the irate redhead each time he talked about his equally redheaded friend. For the oddest reason, that Ulquiorra found impossible to place, the little observation slightly annoyed him, but he brushed it off. The phrase 'mellowed down' seemed quite inaccurate; the chain around Ulquiorra's neck seemed heavier, but he resisted attracting attention to it.

"I mean, you guys are no where near as...villainous as you used to be." Ichigo continued softly, bringing one knee up to rest his arm on.

Were we villains in your eyes? Because the tables certainly seemed to have turned with the Soul Society.

He'd never risk saying that out loud though.

"What were you expecting?" Ulquiorra couldn't help but ask quietly. "Another army of adversaries?"

Unsurprisingly, he shook his head, but the sad light in his eyes flashed brighter.

"Not another war." He said in an even quieter voice. "The scars from that fight are still deep. A lot of us haven't totally gotten over it."

We can tell.

"That's probably the reason for all of the Reapers' bad attitudes." He said apologetically. "It's just a wave of paranoia. That kind of thing makes people act differently than they normally do. Most Soul Reapers aren't that harsh."

Don't try to tell a hollow that, kid.

Just then, those brown eyes seemed to catch something.

"Where'd you get that necklace?"

Ulquiorra looked down to find that he had been absent-mindedly fiddling with the little soul pendant hanging from the chain. The light that glinted off of it wasn't nearly as pleasant as the sunlight around them.

"Nel picked it up somewhere."

"Don't lie."

Ulquiorra gave a sideways look to meet the serious glare of the Reaper teen.

"I've seen that kind of merchandise in the Soul Society Women's League shops. I can tell by the shitty design, but pendant on that one has a rieatsu-restrictive seal that Rukia showed me before. Why are you wearing it?"

He asked the question as if the incident was absurd. Ulquiorra brushed back a few swaying black locks before holding his hand over the silver pendant.

"I had a less than friendly confrontation with Squad Eleven Reapers a few days ago on patrol." He answered plainly.

Remembrance flashed in the amber of his eyes.

"Oh yeah..." Ichigo rubbed his chin. "Rukia mentioned something like that happened. One of the Espada got hostile with a unit from Squad Eleven. I woulda thought it'd be Nnoitra, considering his last fight with Kenpachi."

"You heard about it?" Ulquiorra asked incredulously.

"You wouldn't believe how easily gossip spreads in the Soul Society." Ichigo muttered in annoyance. "Squad Eleven's not only huge, but full of a bunch of hotheads like their Captain. I can see where that kinda trouble would happen."

They started it...Ulquiorra felt like saying, but what would the point be? He only hummed in response.

"They punished you for it?" Ichigo asked in what sounded like disbelief. Ulquiorra only responded by holding out the pendant to let it gleam in the light.

"I guess they're pretty jumpy about the situation, too." He explained, meekly trying to defend the unit. "But, I'm sure not all of them are like that. Most Reapers are pretty friendly."

"That explains your heartwarming greeting to us on the first day."

Even though Ulquiorra hadn't meant for the words to be taken seriously, a shadow of guilt crossed the teen's troubled expression.

"Yeah." He breathed out. "I was paranoid, too. Sorry about that."

The rough, mature voice that Ulquiorra was so used to hearing had dwindled down something childishly meek, similar to Nel, and whenever she felt guilty over something silly. Still, he was curious as to what else would tumble out of the redheaded teen's mouth.

"I'll admit, the first thing I thought about when I head you guys were back, was the threat of another war. When I heard you guys were within our custody, the first thing I feared was retaliation. Then I saw you guys in Mayuri's labs..."

After so much time, Ulquiorra still winced at the memory of that laboratory.

"I should have realized then just how unjust the Soul Society was being about it, but it didn't occur to me. Even afterwards, I just didn't want to trust any of you. I was so prepared to hate all of you...I was too scared to let go of that hatred in fear of being betrayed. I was wrong to just assume like that." He finally seemed to conclude this purging on his part. The whole time Ulquiorra's eyes never left him and his sad expression.

"I'm sorry for that." Ichigo said, adding so much finality and weight to the words that it was impossible to denounce them as insincere. The despondency was still present around him, but Ulquiorra noticed him taking a long breath, and looking relieved, as if he'd been wanting to get that off of his chest for a while.

Ulquiorra relaxed against the wall again, feeling the unknown urge to watch the sunlight stream over the city view. The way its bright flare illuminated every corner of the land to chase away any darkness was something he was always captivated by. Even now in the weak shade of the belfry, as he sat with a man with whom he shared nothing but a dark past with, the gentle sun from above watched over them without any clouds to obscure its warm brilliance.

Gingerly, Ulquiorra held out his hand from the shade to halfway meet the sunlight. His pale hand looked the same as ever, but the light always warmed him.

And he had been cold for so long.

"You're just like her." He whispered gently as a quiet breeze swam by. Ichigo turned his head to meet with earnest emerald eyes.

"You mean...Orihime?"

Ulquiorra nodded his head. "Who else?"

"If you called her by her name, I wouldn't be stuck playing the pronoun game." Ichigo scolded.

Ulquiorra half-heartedly shrugged. "I'll take that step when I reach that part of the bridge."

"Whatever." Ichigo rolled his eyes. "But how am I anything like her?"

"You're too compassionate. Always apologizing for things when it's not needed." He said a little dreamily, faltering out of the impassivity for only a fractional sliver of time. "And doing it so genuinely."

"Well..." The boy followed Ulquiorra's gaze out to the city. "That's 'cause I'm genuinely sorry. Remember 'common human decency'?"

"It's really not that common." Ulquiorra answered quietly. "Not many on your side regret their actions towards us. Just because you didn't, that doesn't criminalize you. It's a normal reaction."

Truthfully, he had just been stating as it was; bluntly, uncaringly, and unabashedly. Yet, his words seemed to comfort the discomfited Reaper next to him. Ulquiorra watched the melancholic glimmer in the amber of his eyes evanesce into a warm glow, like he was at peace.

"I see." He murmured as he looked back at the view.

"Thanks, Ulquiorra."

"And giving gratitude away so easily, too."

"Yoooo!"

The both of them didn't need to turn their heads to know the boy Keigo's arms were flung happily over their shoulders.

"What kind of cool stuff are you two broody bros so chit-chatty about? And how come none of us are in on it, too?!"

Ichigo rolled his eyes at his friend's persistence. "It's nothing you'd be interested in, Keigo."

"Aww don't shut me out, dude!" Keigo cried. He turned to Ulquiorra with a hopeful expression. "Senpai, what kinda wisdom were you sharing with our unfortunately ginger-headed friend?"

"What was that?" Ichigo grabbed him in a less than friendly headlock. "Ginger-headed?"

"He's not wrong!" Mizuiro called from the other side of the belfry.

"So spill it Ul-senpai..." The brown-haired teen choked out. "What were you guys talkin' about?

Ulquiorra flicked his eyes back between the two teenagers before offhandedly combing back a few dark bangs.

"Girls."

"What?" Ichigo looked up with an incredulous stare. For that distracted moment, Keigo slipped free and grinned widely

"Oh really! My favorite subject! You interested in any girls here in Japan? Actually, I've caught you starin' at Orihime in our class more than once!"

You and everyone else...

"Soooo? You interested in her? I can't blame you, man. She's a total-bfgeugh!"

"Shut up, Keigo." Ichigo elbowed the side of his head.

"What man? She's hot. Can you disagree?"

"Well, no..." Ichigo replied, scratching his head awkwardly. "But she's our friend. It's weird."

"Oh please, you prude." Keigo rolled his eyes. "You can agree with me, right senpai?"

Ulquiorra blinked at the question directed at him. His eyes momentarily flicked to an annoyed, but curious-looking Ichigo. He had plenty of responses, but shrugged half-heartedly, and settled for one.

"She's very pretty." He murmured with the wind.

"See!" Keigo elbowed a surprised looking Ichigo. "How can you be so modest when you've been spending nearly all of lunch talking about chicks?"

"All of lunch?" Ulquiorra asked, sounding alerted. Without hesitance, he took out his phone to check the time. Only thirteen minutes left until the bell rang.

His eyebrows knit in confusion, shock, and disbelief at the numbers spelled out on the glass screen. Had he really killed a whole hour just talking with someone? And a Soul Reaper nonetheless...

He sighed as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to class..."

"Aww, you have to?" Keigo whined.

Ulquiorra looked back at the group of teenage boys (the others had joined the other side of the rooftops at the sound of Keigo's struggle in Ichigo's steel grasp).

"I'll see you all in class tomorrow." He concluded dispassionately. Before he turned around, Ichigo's voice called out to him.

"Hey."

"Yes?"

"Was that (*insert random band*) on your phone screen?"

Ulquiorra held up his cell to show the album cover that he had saved as his background.

"It is. Why...?"

"You listen to them?"

"I've...recently become interested in them. Why do you ask?"

"Well...I like that band, too."

---

Twelve minutes wasn't bad time.

If he rushed, Ulquiorra could probably get textbook delivery done in five. As he made his way back to the classroom, words and reactions from just a few moments ago were replaying in his head like a fixed cinematic. He certainly hadn't meant to stay so long with the students on the roof, but the time slipped away so easily. How odd that talking with his former enemy about relatively everything made Ulquiorra forget...everything.

It was sort of remedial, being able to forget his troubles for just a few small moments. It wasn't like how he seemed to be in a daze when he talked to Ori...er...the woman, but something different. Even Ichigo seemed to find peace in just talking with Ulquiorra, and speaking his mind. It seems that they both did something for each other. A Soul Reaper and a hollow.

That's a new one.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he nearly slammed into Starrk as he rounded an abrupt corner.

"Hey, Freight Train." Starrk greeted lackadaisically. "Don't you look like the busy man?"

"Don't I always?" Ulquiorra threw back.

"What took so long with the boys?" He inquired languidly.

Ulquiorra shrugged the matter off. "I lost track of time."

"How irresponsible." Starrk arched a brow in mock-astonishment. Ulquiorra elbowed his ribs.

"I'll finish up now." He declared plainly.

"Even if that were physically possible with the bell time," Starrk began as he rolled his eyes. "You're outta luck. Halibel just called. The Reapers want us to hit the streets the moment the period starts."

Ulquiorra pinched the bridge of his nose. Great. Just what he wanted to avoid. What was he thinking wasting so much time?

He sighed, but didn't necessarily regret his misuse of time.

"Whatever." He muttered.

"The funny thing is..." Starrk ran a hand through his wavy mocha hair, looking perplexed about something.

"What?" Ulquiorra asked as the turned another corner. Yet again, he was caught off gaurd and bumped into something short and female-shaped.

"Hey, watch it."

He was met with a head of long dark hair, dark eyes, and darkly pretty features.

"Excuse me...Tatsuki, right?" He gestured to the tomboyish girl.

"Huh. So you actually know my name." The girl crossed her arms and eyed him like a hawk.

"That's my job." He replied impassively.

"Actually, your job for today included delivering history textbooks to lazy-ass teachers who can't be bothered to get 'em themselves." She declared unabashedly.

Something about the tone of her voice was familiar to him: straightforward, discourteous, and with enough bold attitude to slightly annoy him. Who else did he know who was like that? Still, he recognized her as a certain grey-eyed girl's best friend.

"It was." Ulquiorra answered curtly. "May I ask how you know that?"

"You're answer's standing to your right like a wooden post." She said, flipping a wave of dark hair.

Ulquiorra turned his head to the Espadas Primera wooden post with a look that demanded an explanation. Before Starrk could say anything, another familiarly cheerful voice sounded from across the hall.

"All finished Tatsuki!"

Three pairs of eyes watched as the smiling copper-haired girl rushed over to meet them. When her eyes fell on Ulquiorra, the smile slightly faltered and she skidded to a stop in front of the three of them.

"Oh, hi." She said with a meek upturn of her lips.

"Did the last sensei get her books?" Tatsuki asked, making sure to shoot Ulquiorra a knowing look.

"Yeah, she did." The girl confirmed happily.

Ulquiorra flicked his eyes to Starrk, but the Primera Espada could only sigh as the scene unfolded before him.

"And it took us all of lunch." Tatsuki crossed her limber arms in the direction of her sheepish friend.

"I told you I could try doing it myself." She insisted with a slight pout.

"And let you carry heavy boxes without me? What kind of friend would I be then?"

Impatient, Ulquiorra rapped his fingers on the wall loudly to get their attention.

"What's the meaning of this, woman?" He asked in a serious voice.

"She has a damn name." Tatsuki openly glared at him.

"Calm down both of you." The girl said in a pacifying voice. She turned to Ulquiorra with a sheepish expression. "After you left class, I asked Starrk if I could help out with any errands you had left. I figured you'd be gone long, considering Keigo's persistence and all..."

Ulquiorra shot another empty look at Starrk who was busy playing with a few strands of hair. The sleepy-eyed Espada yawned before returning Ulquiorra's gaze.

"She's the persistent one." He said with a shrug. "Absolutely insisted on helping out. It would've been useless to refuse."

"Like I said." Tatsuki nudged her blushing friend's shoulder. "You're too generous for your own good."

Indeed. Ulquiorra thought in a agreement.

"You know, we pretty much wasted our lunch to help." Tatsuki pointed out dauntlessly. "I believe a thanks is due?"

"Tatsuki." The girl chided with another pout.

"Dude, it's two simple words." The tomboy put her hands on her hips. "Hello in there? Do I need to draw you a picture?"

Who do you remind me of?

Ulquiorra only blinked a few times before sighing.

Daringly, he tried for a brief glance into those shining grey eyes without becoming totally absorbed into them. Attempt unsuccessful. She shifted her large silver gaze to stare more directly into his jade one. He could feel himself lost in the grey rain clouds again.

"You didn't have to do that." He said in a drained voice, feeling his shoulders lower in relief of having no more tasks, but also in just being in her calming presence.

With an endearingly shy smile, she shrugged lightheartedly.

"I didn't have to. I just wanted to."

How could she look so honest all the time? Ulquiorra could barely hear Starrk tell him that he had no more than five minutes to meet him in the parking lot, or Tatsuki warily excuse herself and tell her friend that she would meet her in art class; their voices were lost and muffled as if he were submerged underwater, the way he always felt when he was alone with her.

And here they were again. Alone.

Ulquiorra was at a loss for words, except for two.

"Thank you." He said more gently than he ever would to anyone else. She exchanged his gratitude for a scarlet blush.

"It's n-nothing that great." She insisted modestly. "R-really, i-it's okay. You don't need to thank me."

"You couldn't seriously have done all that work and call it nothing." He evenly chided her. "At least let me repay you somehow. I can't stand feeling indebted."

He had no idea how or why his stone cold words prompted her to reach out to smooth his dark hair back from his sleepy eyes, but he didn't object; not even when she kept her soft fingertips against the surface of his cheekbones just under his eyes.

"You're never indebted." She whispered gingerly. Her gorgeous voice, gorgeous expression, and gorgeous eyes held too much meaning to be untrue. Before he knew it, Ulquiorra found himself holding the hand at his cheek in his own pale one.

"Are you okay?" She asked in a soft whisper.

"I'm always okay."

"Then that's all I need for repayment."

She couldn't be serious.

"That's all?"

It was such a brief moment, but he wished it was a little longer so he could treasure the feeling. The feeling of her body connected with his own; her arms wrapped securely around his neck; her head laying just to next to his; her warm breath against his neck; and her soft eyelashes brushed against his cheek.

"Of course. Is that okay?" She asked gently, her plush lips separated from his rapid pulse by just a faint breath.

He breathed out a calm, "Okay", before tentatively bringing his own arm around her fragile body, to assure that this feeling would last, and that she wouldn't let go. He didn't want to let her go.

"When you get home tonight," She wound her arms tighter around him. "Get some sleep. Dark circles don't go with teal lines."

He temperately nodded his head, somewhat distracted by the vibration of her pulse so close to his own. He had become so used to its serene lullaby that he nearly fell asleep in her arms.

He really didn't want to let her go.

But he had to. Before they separated, he remembered something obscure, but undeniably significant. Something he had always walked around but never confronted at face value. Something that he didn't feel like delaying any longer.

Something he wanted no one but her to hear from him, so he whispered the delicate sentiment in her ear.

Just then the school bell rang to separate them again, and to remind Ulquiorra that he was out of time. He had no time to linger on her wide eyes, gaping lips, or blushing face.

With that, he walked off to round the corner, roughly grab Starrk, who had been indiscreetly skulking on the other side of the corner of the wall, and drag him by his collar to their car in the parking lot.

"What-?" He began, but abruptly stopped as Ulquiorra wordlessly drew Murciélago to let it glare threateningly in the light.

"Fine." He grumbled as he slouched in the passenger's seat. Ulquiorra flipped the bangs out of his eyes before starting the ignition and driving off to join their siblings at patrol. All the silent while, the last words he spoke echoed in his head.

Thank you...Orihime.

---

A/N: Lemme know what you think in the reviews, especially in regard to Nnoi-Nn...er...Nnoitra's perspective. Hopefully you enjoyed the bonding and bickering in this chapter. It was fun to write

I have no idea what kinda music Ulquiorra would listen to. My thoughts always go to metal...alternative metal? Or any Japanese bands? Save me readers...

Also, I realize that last chapter wasn't so engaging, but I would really appreciate more thoughts on Murciélago's personality, and more importantly, gender. I can't make up my mind! I once again apologize for the late update, but next chapter is already under construction. Thanks for reading!

P.S. Points for subtle tundere? (It's sweet, lol)