No matter how many of these things I write, they never get out of my head! D: -dying from a lack of sleep- I don't know when I'll end this fic…but I'm having a damn good time writing it (putting aside the insomnia). ;3 Review!
…and I think I've been forgetting these, but Disclaimer: I do NOT own Bleach. Thank you
Strength- UlquiHime
"Ulquiorra-sama?" Orihime asked from the couch. Standing at his post near the door, the Espada looked at the girl on the couch and grunted. She sat with a jar no more than two inches from her eyes, mouth set in a frown.
"Could you help me open this? Gomen…it just won't come off," she held it out in his direction, waiting expectantly. Ulquiorra sighed.
"God damn, woman. How Aizen-sama could want a girl who can't even open a jar is beyond me," he growled, then snatched the jar away (attempting to avoid contact). The top broke off with little effort, though would now be unable to go back on. Orihime stared at the broken jar, dismayed. How in the world was she supposed to eat all those pickles? Without a top, they would get moldy and gross. And she couldn't let that happen. A hand reached in for a fat one.
"There was this one grocery store where I lived, you know. It had the most amazing pickles in the world. Well, actually I don't know that. I've never been outside of Japan…but anyways! They were sweet and sour at the same time and they were reallllyyy juicy! I mean one bite and I was in pickle heaven! Do pickles have a heaven? Hmmm…I wonder if I'll ever get to go back and eat one of those pickles," she rambled, using various hand gestures. Ulquiorra ignored most of it, finding half of the woman's words stupid, a fourth unrealistic and the other fourth…well, sometimes she could be insightful. That was rare, though.
He did not, however, miss her last sentence. Turning back, he wrapped a hand around her wrist and pulled her up roughly from her seat. The half-eaten pickle fell to the floor.
"You will not go back. You will not leave Los Noches. Your body is for Aizen-sama and his ambitions. Say it!" He pushed her hand away with force and she stumbled. Her lip quivered for a moment, but she covered it up and recited the verse mechanically, face hard set with no visible emotion.
"I am not to return to Karakura town. I will not leave Los Noches. My mind, body and soul are for Aizen-sama and his ambitions, and his ambitions only"
Ulquiorra nodded shortly, then picked up her trays and left the pickles.
"I trust you will not do anything stupid with the glass on that jar. Otherwise I will have to restrain you arms and force feed you for the rest of your meals. That is a promise," he told her. Her jaw seemed to clench for only a minute, something sparking behind her eyes.
"I thank Ulquiorra-sama for his…concern for my safety," Orihime told him, then turned to disappear into the washroom. He took this chance and slipped out the door with her cart.
When he thought about what just transpired, he realized that no matter how many times the woman was forced to admit her slave status to Aizen-sama, her resolve never cracked. He admired this. Emotionally weak were the worst kind of trash.
He, on the other hand, was among the most physically strong in Los Noches. Yet comparing himself to her, he didn't seem anywhere near as resolute… especially since she arrived.
When put on a scale, Ulquiorra was sure that Orihime's strength far outweighed his own.