Theme #28: Death

For Charmane


Death.

So this was what it was like.

It was certainly much different than he had expected.

When he woke up from his nightmare, he could not see anything. Pitch black was what had met his eyes. And strangely, the sounds that met his ears were the sounds of people sobbing. Finding this strange, Ulquiorra sat up, curious. The moment that he did, though, he was assaulted by light so bright that he actually had to shield his eyes with his arm. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, Ulquiorra pulled his arm away, and saw his parents, aunt and uncle surrounding him. All of them were crying, his mother crying the hardest.

"Mom...? Dad...?"

But no matter how many times Ulquiorra tried to speak to them, they would not answer. So he spoke louder. But even then... nothing. They continued to ignore him.

Getting worried, Ulquiorra reached out to his mother, to try to console her.

Only to find out that his nightmare was no nightmare.

His hand had gone right through her.

Being dead, or to be more specific, a ghost, was strange.

As a ghost, he could not touch, feel, or taste. He could speak, but no one would be able to hear him.

For days he had wandered around by himself, ignored by the rest of the world, without an idea of what to do. As private a person Ulquiorra Cifer was, being a ghost was lonely. Sometimes, he would stay with those that mattered the most to him, but even then, it was suffocating. Seeing their misery struck something deep within him, so he would leave whenever it got too much.

And when the day of his funeral had arrived, it was no different, if not worse. The air had been gloomy, quiet, depressing. He did not like it. He did not like it at all. It was eerie, going to his own funeral, watching everyone mourn for him. His mother had wept every day since his death up till the funeral. She was pretty much inconsolable, and it hurt that he could not do anything to make her feel better. He could not speak to her, hold her, nothing. No matter how much he had tried, nothing ever worked.

It was only about an hour ago that Ulquiorra had managed to communicate with someone.

But even then, that person was very much dead, just like himself.

Ulquiorra sat down on the edge of a bed, watching silently as the occupant of said bed continued to sleep.

"Don't take too long."

Ulquiorra looked over his shoulder as he replied to her, slightly irritated. "I won't, Shinigami. This will only take a moment."

She sniffed. "My name is Rukia, not 'Shinigami'." But otherwise, she kept quiet and waited; she knew how important this was for him.

He returned his gaze onto Grimmjow's face. Just looking at that face helped calm him. Grimmjow looked so different when he was asleep. Gone was his usual frown, replaced by a peaceful look. Hesitantly, Ulquiorra reached out and traced the side of that familiar face. Grimmjow shifted a bit at that; Ulquiorra's "touch" was cold.

"Hey," Ulquiorra murmured.

He did not get a reply, of course, but he did not mind.

He just wanted a moment with Grimmjow before he had to leave.

"Grimmjow..."

Grimmjow. He was the only one who had come to Ulquiorra's funeral to tell him that he would see Ulquiorra later. The memory brought a small smile to his lips after not smiling for so long, made him chuckle, made, as uncharacteristic as it seemed, him get a bit teary-eyed. Though he did not quite expect it since Grimmjow seemed to be one of the most affected by his death, it was so like Grimmjow to say something like that. Grimmjow was always the more optimistic one, and he knew exactly what to say to make Ulquiorra feel better.

And after what Ulquiorra had discovered and been told by the Shinigami, Kuchiki Rukia, he could not say that Grimmjow was wrong.

The question was, how long would they have to wait till their next meeting?

Ulquiorra's smile faded a little at that.

There were so many things that had been left unsaid. He stopped tracing Grimmjow's face and cupped his cheek. So many things... Ulquiorra took in a deep breath, and released it.

Grimmjow was his childhood friend, his best friend, the one who understood him the most, the one closest to him. Who was it that had stood by his side all of these years? The one who, when they were mere children, had bandaged his cut knee, and offered to carry him back home? Even after all the hard time Ulquiorra had given him? Who was it that Ulquiorra would always walk back home in the rain with, after a tiring soccer practice? The one who would give him a white daisy to tease him, just to remind Ulquiorra of their first meeting? Who was it that had stubbornly persisted for friendship, and finally managed to carve a spot, just for himself, in Ulquiorra's heart?

Just thinking about it made Ulquiorra's heart clench.

Grimmjow was all of that, and so much more.

There were so many things that he wanted to tell Grimmjow, but did not, and he regretted that. He did not know how to express his feelings very well, at least, verbally, so he always showed that he cared through actions. But even then, he found that that had not been enough. And now, more than ever, he wanted to say these things that he had kept inside, or did not say enough when he was alive.

He wanted to tell Grimmjow that he might have had a little crush on Grimmjow the moment Ulquiorra had laid eyes on him (it was just that Grimmjow had messed it all up by calling him a girl).

He wanted to tell Grimmjow that he did not find his presence annoying at all. In fact, Ulquiorra enjoyed his company.

He wanted to tell Grimmjow that he did indeed consider Grimmjow as his best friend.

He wanted to tell Grimmjow that he did want to take up on his offer for a dance, as cheesy as it sounded.

He wanted to tell Grimmjow that he especially enjoyed the quiet moments that they had shared, where it would only be the two of them.

He wanted to tell Grimmjow that he had wanted to kiss Grimmjow at the park that one night.

He wanted to tell Grimmjow that he made Ulquiorra smile more, made his heart beat faster, made his days brighter.

...

He... He also wanted to tell Grimmjow that even though he often acted as though he did not like any of those daisies Grimmjow had given him, he had secretly kept them.

Every single one of them.

Ulquiorra bit his lower lip, then spoke, his voice soft. Just four words.

"I love you, Grimmjow."

You see, Grimmjow was not only his best friend, but also the one he had fallen for.

Only the sound of Grimmjow's soft breathing met his confession as a response.

Ulquiorra let out the breath that he had been holding in. There, he had said it. Those words, though they had been spoken softly, seemed to echo in Ulquiorra's ears.

"Mr. Cifer," Rukia said, reminding him of her presence.

"Just a minute."

Just one last thing he wanted to do before he had to go. He took a deep breath to calm himself, then leaned down, his hair falling forward as he did so. Forgive me for this, Grimmjow, Ulquiorra thought, closing his eyes. He closed the distance between his and Grimmjow's lips.

Time seemed to stand still.

The kiss. He clenched his fist. He could not feel it. A tear slid from under his closed eyelid and trailed down his face, followed by more tears. And yet...

Ulquiorra allowed the kiss to linger for awhile.

... it seemed so sweet.

Wiping his tears away, Ulquiorra tried to compose himself before turning to a waiting Rukia, who pulled her zanpakuto out of its sheathe, ready to send him onto his next life. Though he still wanted to spend more time with Grimmjow, he did not move as she neared him, as she slowly pressed the back of her zanpakuto against his forehead, nor did he utter a word as he began to slowly disappear.

It was only after Ulquiorra had left for Soul Society that Grimmjow woke up, the feel of the ice-cold kiss still lingering upon his lips.

"Ulquiorra," he whispered, breathing fast.

Till next time, Grimmjow.


DIOR: Ironically, the prompt Charmane gave me was "bring me to life", but this was what my derpy brain came up with when I saw the prompt. Ulquiorra has kinda been brought back to life, in a way, I guess? xD