Chapter 11

Matters of the Heart ─ Part 1

Back at the apartment late that night, Ulquiorra did not immediately go inside. He knew that Orihime would sense his return, so he didn't bother to inform her himself; he merely leapt onto the rooftop and remained there, immersed in his own thoughts.

Ulquiorra had known that Soul Society would sense his presence in the Land of the Living sooner or later. He had known that they would eventually confront him. He had even suspected that they might attack him if he remained here for any considerable length of time. He hoped, however, that his message to the young captain this evening would warn them against any rash actions against his person: after all, there weren't many in Soul Society who would stand a chance against himself in a one-on-one battle, and anything larger than that would likely cause great destruction here in the Land of the Living. With any luck, they would be content to leave him alone and simply continue to observe him, so long as he refrained from killing anyone here or otherwise wreaking havoc. Although, knowing what he knew of the Shinigami, he soon decided that this was a ridiculous hope: as the Shinigami tonight had said, they would not allow a Hollow to remain in the Land of the Living. Ulquiorra had to decide whether it would be worth fighting Soul Society to stay.

The question of the little Shinigami this evening came back to him: "Why are you here, Espada?" How many others had asked him that question since he had come? And what answer did he have? Ulquiorra knew why he had originally come: he had sought information, understanding. What was it about these humans that allowed them to overcome all odds and to survive? What caused them to show pity and even compassion to their enemies without weakening themselves? How could persons of such incomprehensibly overwhelming power live lives of such mediocrity here in the Land of the Living without losing their minds? Kurosaki Ichigo, Inoue Orihime, and even Ishida Uryū; these three humans had piqued his interest and had drawn him from his solitude to enter life in their land among their kind for a time. He had intentionally clothed himself in the frail flesh of humanity in order to better understand them. The problem was that no matter how much he studied them, no matter how long he spent in their presence, he couldn't seem to comprehend the true source of their power. They remained as incomprehensible to him now as they had been that night above Las Noches. Was it possible that what the woman had yelled in a fit of anger was true? Was a heartless Hollow simply incapable of understanding the true nature of a human? He had begun to consider this possibility more seriously.

"Why are you here?"

If he had asked, "Why did you come?" Ulquiorra could have answered with ease, though he would not have done so. He would not explain himself to a Shinigami. Regardless, to the question of why he remained, however, Ulquiorra no longer had an adequate answer himself. He had nearly convinced himself that he was on a fool's errand. As a Hollow, he simply could not understand these humans. Without a "heart," it was apparently pointless even to try.

And he had no heart.

As if through a mist, Ulquiorra saw again in his mind the woman's face as she gazed at him in that unforgettable moment. Her clothes were torn; her body was bruised and bleeding. Her figure was half hidden by his own outstretched fingers, but all he saw was her eyes. In that warm gaze was no anger, no hatred, no fear. There was pity. There was sorrow. There was compassion. In that moment, as she had reached for his hand, he had felt, just for an instant, the gentle warmth of what she called the Heart. Into the dark, empty abyss of meaninglessness in which his life had dwelt for so long had shone a light that he had never known existed. An existence beyond what his eyes could see had invaded him, as distant as the stars and yet as near as the palm of his hand. For that fleeting, mystical moment, Ulquiorra had felt a peace that he had never imagined could be. The simplicity of pure emptiness where nothing mattered and nothing existed had always formed his conception of happiness, and yet here was something different; something that felt both peaceful, joyful, and comfortable. It was a moment which a more eloquent or imaginative person might have described as one of other-worldly bliss.

Somehow Ulquiorra knew that this brief moment from his painful past was his only link to the answers he was now seeking. Whatever it was that he had felt in that instant was what dwelt within the minds of the humans here constantly. This was what drove them. It had to be. He had thrust it from his mind when he had awoken from the darkness, choosing to take solace once again in the emptiness that he had known for so many years. After all, the humans were gone. He was alone. Whatever it was that he had felt could engender nothing but a longing which could not be filled. Was it truly happiness that he had felt, emanating from the outstretched hand of the woman that he was unable to touch? Or was it the delusion of a crumbling, dying mind? Was it truly contentment that had been offered to him in that enigmatic moment of time? Or was it insanity, overtaking him at last? Whatever it had been, it was now gone. Whatever he had felt, whatever he had experienced, had vanished like ash in the wind. It was like a dream, gone with the morning mists, barely remembered. And yet it had been real, in that briefest moment. Somehow, he had experienced this heart of which the woman spoke. He had forgotten── no, he had desired to forget. And yet it was there. It had happened. Could it be that his own soul was now searching desperately for that peace once more, seeing that the peace of the void had been taken from him?

The confusion and consequent frustration began to arise in him again. He was reaching for something that he could never touch. Each time he was with the woman, the frustration seemed to grow. The moment about which he had tried to forget came more and more frequently to mind, taunting him with the suggestion that the human heart truly was within his reach.

Nonsense!

Again, he thrust away the contradictory and, indeed, ridiculous notions that seemed insistent on plaguing him. He would not think of it. Whatever the reason for his being here, he would reach his goal without resorting to emotional ends, without falling into the nonsensical imaginations of the human mind. If he could not determine what he wished to know through clear thought and logic, then he would leave with no answer. Better to have ignorance than to have confusion. To have nothing was better than to have something that made no sense. If this confusion persisted...

"Hi," he heard a familiar voice say.

Moving only his eyes, he saw Orihime walking carefully across the roof toward him.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," she smiled.

Ulquiorra merely looked at her, saying nothing, as she came and sat beside him again. She certainly was interrupting, but he did not mind it just now. If she disliked remembering that night of darkness, as she had said, Ulquiorra realized now that he disliked remembering it even more so. Best not to think of it. Let her remind him that he had not eaten her concoctions this night or that he must sleep before "school" in the morning or that he was not "properly dressed" for this cold night. Better to deal with nonsense outside of his own head than within it.

"You were gone so late tonight, I was starting to get worried," she continued, looking out at the town around them. "But then I knew that I shouldn't be; after all, you can take care of yourself, I know."

Ulquiorra turned his own eyes forward without replying, choosing now to banish all thought from his mind and to simply relax. He would think more tomorrow. He had thought enough for today.

Orihime licked her lips. They had been sitting together in silence for a few minutes now, and she sorely wished that he would say something. She really had been worried when he'd been out for so long. It's true that she knew he was capable of taking care of himself, so she knew that it couldn't be that he was in any actual danger, but the fearful thought had come to her that he might not come back by choice. Suppose he decided that he was finished here and was ready to leave? Would he tell her? Surely he would! He'd been staying with her for some time now, and surely he'd be polite enough to let her know before he just vanished.

Maybe she should ask. Yes, she could just ask him whether he was planning to leave anytime soon. That would be natural enough. No, it might sound like she wanted him to leave, and she couldn't have him thinking that! Well, maybe if she phrased it just right, saying how much she liked having him here and telling him how much she hoped he would stay for a long time, then... No, because that might start the idea of his leaving in his mind if he wasn't already thinking about it. Maybe...

"Did you see that Ishida-kun took first place in the midterms again?" she asked suddenly. Why did I say that?! she asked herself.

"I did not notice," replied Ulquiorra calmly.

"Um, I suppose you placed right where you wanted to place, didn't you?"

"Given that my placement is relative to those around me, I have little to no control over exactly where I place."

"Ah, well ... were you happy with where you placed?"

"It makes no difference to me."

Why am I talking about school?! Orihime moaned inwardly. Can't I think of something else to say? Come on, Orihime, be brave! Just tell him that you want him to stay! She shook her head. No! I can't say that!

"You are agitated," came his deep voice, breaking through her thoughts. "Were you unhappy with your own placement?"

"Huh? No! I mean, I think..." Orihime stuttered nervously. "I just ... I wanted ... to ask you..."

"Ask," he ordered calmly.

"Could we fly up to the stars again?" she blurted out. Why did I ask that?

Ulquiorra turned to look at her then. She blushed slightly but managed to smile also. After all, it would be fun to go on another excursion like their last one. Maybe up there, above the clouds, away from the normal life down here, she could finally calm her nerves enough to be honest with him. Maybe.

For a time, he said nothing, and Orihime wondered whether perhaps he hadn't enjoyed the trip last time. She couldn't guess that he was weighing his earlier conversation with a certain Shinigami captain, trying to decide whether releasing even his first form would be unwise at this time.

"It is already late," he said at last. "It would be better to wait until a night where you have no early obligations on the following day."

"Oh, okay," she replied, lowering her eyes. He was right. He saw how she had to rush almost every morning. Of course it wouldn't be good to stay up late again on a school night, seeing that it was really almost time to go to bed now as it was. Now he really did seem like Sora: telling her that she needed to learn to be responsible.

"Thank you," she said softly, "for thinking of that."

"Hm."

Wait! she thought. He said we'd do it another time! That means he plans to stay!

"So, is that a promise?" she asked, turning to him with a grin.

"What?"

"Will you take me another time, when we don't have school the next day?"

"If you like," answered Ulquiorra.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed. Yes, he was certainly planning to stay, she decided.

"If I am still here," he added.

Orihime felt her heart lurch. She looked at him, trying to hide the horror in her eyes, but he wasn't looking at her now anyway.

"If ... you're still here?" she repeated quietly.

"I will not remain in the Land of the Living forever, Orihime," he replied coldly.

Again, Orihime felt her heart tremble. How could he call her by name at a time like this? He was saying that he was leaving her, and yet he was calling her by name? How cruel! Of course, she had told him to call her by name, but even so!

"Why?" she whispered.

"Why?" he repeated.

"Why do you have to leave?"

Silently, he turned his face to look at her. "What reason is there for me to stay?"

Orihime looked back at him, her own emotions in turmoil. When had she started feeling so strongly for him? It's true that she wanted him to stay, but she hadn't realized how much she wanted it until now, when he was telling her that he would leave. She wanted to catch hold of him and not let go. He couldn't leave! He couldn't!

"Is ... is there some reason ... why you have to go?" she asked.

He blinked at her. She licked her lips, seeing the apparent confusion in his eyes, and felt hope rise within her.

"I'd like you to stay," she said softly.

It had never been difficult for Ulquiorra to mask his own emotions, but he wondered now whether that was because he felt so few of them. After all, in his many years as Aizen's fourth Espada, he had never had any difficulty in distinguishing exactly what he was feeling nor why he was feeling it in those times where he felt anything at all. It had only been since his interactions with this human woman become more frequent that Ulquiorra had begun to question the reasons and origins behind his own emotions with no satisfactory answer. Even so, most instances were paltry and practically insignificant. Over the last few weeks, however, they had become more frequent and tangled. At first, he had scarcely noticed the gradually encroaching confusion that clouded his thoughts when he was around her. After all, he was living among humans, functioning (for a large part) within the confines of a human body, trying (in vain) to unravel the mystery that was the human heart and mind. He was surrounded by confusion. She was merely one of many who confused him.

The night that they had flown above the town together was the first time that it had struck him strongly how different it was when he was with her. He felt. He felt ... for her. He wasn't sure exactly what he felt, nor had he any idea why, but it was there nonetheless.

This confusion was one of the reasons that had led him to make the decision he had just voiced to her: he would return to Hueco Mundo, even if he had no answer to his initial inquest. He knew that he must return in time regardless, but he had hoped to accomplish his goal of gaining understanding of these humans first. Now, however, he was beginning to believe that he could never understand them. And, in addition to this, he found that she was a growing distraction. She occupied more and more of his waking thoughts, though that was not his intent. How long would it be before he could think of nothing else? At what point would her presence conquer his mind entirely? No, best to be done with it before then, while his mind was still fully under his own control. He had decided that he would continue to work toward his initial plan for another week, perhaps two, and would then leave, successful or unsuccessful. He had not told her yet, but there had been no need. He would tell her when he left.

Now, looking into her eyes as she asked him to stay, Ulquiorra found himself almost fully overcome with the cloud of confusing emotions. He gazed at her, lost for the moment. He was overwhelmed with the desire to protect her; the desire to be near to her; the desire to ... to understand her. Not to understand humans, but to understand her and her alone. No one else mattered. All that mattered was the creature before him. The eyes that poured forth such vast quantities of emotions; the face that radiated kindness and care and yet such determination likewise; the mouth that would speak the most convoluted nonsense and the most profound and yet simple questions; the hands that would clap for joy or clench in anger... The hand that had struck himself, so long ago. The hand that had reached for his ... that he had been unable to grasp.

The hand that ... held his heart.

"Her heart," he recalled, from the moment of his death, "was right here, in my hand."

Almost without realizing what he was doing, he had extended his hand toward her. She lifted her own hand to take his, and, as their palms pressed together, he felt it: he held her heart in his hand, and she held his in hers. The moment from above the dome of Las Noches returned once more, no longer veiled in mystery and confusion, but now fully realized and consummated beyond his wildest dreams. What was here was beyond reason: it was beyond his mind's ability to understand. Even so, he could not deny it. He felt it. He stared at their hands, holding tightly to each other, and he knew. Somehow, beyond understanding, he knew.

Lifting his eyes to hers again, he knew that above all he wanted to hold her, to possess her, to ... consume her. In that moment of insanity, he wanted to have her always within his own spirit, forever with him, never letting her go. He found himself leaning forward, drawing her closer to himself, inhaling the scent of her body and soul together. She didn't resist. She drew nearer to him also, oblivious to the clear and present danger. His eyes drank in her form; his breathing deepened as he anticipated what was to come; his muscles all but trembled as he felt her in his grasp. He wrapped his free arm around her, drawing her close to himself, but, as he did so, he saw her eyes flutter closed. Her head tilted back as she leaned toward him, and her lips parted slightly.

In that moment, he awoke to what he was doing. She was responding to him as a human; he was responding to her as a Hollow. She would have kissed him; he would have consumed her. In shock and horror, he thrust her back from himself, rising quickly to his feet and turning his back to her, blocking her from his vision.

How could he do such a thing? What had come over him? He had not fed on human souls in over a century nor had he been tempted to do so. Why now? What was this hunger that he had felt when he looked at her? This desire? This consuming passion? It was like nothing that he had ever felt! He struggled to keep his breathing steady and to clear his head. He must think clearly. He must! This confusion would drive him back into the mindless abyss from which his soul had risen so long ago. He must not allow that to happen!

He must leave.

Yes, that was clear. He must flee this place. There was no other option. He had to leave her. Now. Tonight. He had to leave this land. He had to be free from the impenetrable cloud that far too often overtook his mind here. He had to prevent himself from ever losing control of himself again.

He had to protect her.

She was not safe with him. To leave was the only choice, if he wished her to be safe. This nonsense about the heart would lead only to her death at his hands. Of that, he was now sure. If he allowed the confusion and the insanity to overcome him, he would cease to be who he was, and he would destroy her himself. He could not allow that to happen. He must leave.

Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself. He still stood, eyes now closed, his back to her. He then realized that she had neither moved nor spoken. She had responded to his advance, thinking that he had wanted something other than what he did; he had then shoved her back from himself roughly; and yet she said nothing. She didn't move. He could sense that she remained behind himself. But she was silent. She didn't move. Why? Curious, he carefully looked over his shoulder.

She sat on the roof in the same place, but she looked up at him in confusion. There was no fear; no anger; not even hurt. Only confusion and a little concern. She stared at him, clearly seeking an answer to some question, but to what? Ulquiorra blinked. He then saw what so confused her. Her hand was still imprisoned in his.

How was he still holding her hand? Had he not let go? Clearly he hadn't. He had stood and turned, but his hand had not released its grip. In mild embarrassment, he tried now to let go.

He couldn't.

His hand trembled. As he struggled with his own mind, ordering himself silently to release her, his body refused. He could not let her go. He would not let her go. He would not leave her. He knew that he should, that he must, but he could not. He would not let go.

As if sensing the inner turmoil that he felt, or perhaps seeing the confusion in his own eyes, Orihime rose to her own feet and stepped forward. Ulquiorra looked at her in apprehension. He wanted to tell her to run, to get away from himself, before it was too late. She should strike him again, should order him out of her home, should insist that he leave this land. She should not be coming closer to him. And yet that was exactly what she was doing. Without releasing her own grip on his hand, she stepped up to him and wrapped her other arm around him, pressing her head to his chest silently.

Again, Ulquiorra felt the sense of insanity coming over him as her body was pressed to his, her scent filling his nostrils, and her warmth flooding over him. He wanted to hold her to himself always and never let go! He wanted to wrap her within himself, making her a permanent part of his own being, such that they would always be as close as they were now. She was his! He would never let go!

No. She was not his. He would not allow himself to take her soul.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Retain control, he thought to himself. She holds my heart, as I hold hers. I am not a mindless Hollow; I have risen above that. I can protect her. I can protect her from myself. I will protect her. I will protect her.

His own free arm rose to wrap around her. He pressed her gently into himself, listening intently to her quiet breathing.

Never leave me, he thought. Never let me go.

With all of the mental strength that was in him, Ulquiorra forced the confusion and insanity from his thoughts. If it meant that he would feel nothing, then he would feel nothing. To protect her meant everything; he would not allow her to be hurt. As he held her to himself, feeling her human heart beating against his empty chest, he sighed gently. He was empty, but she would fill him; not because he would take her forcefully, but because she wanted to do so. She wished to be with him. She wished him to be with her. He saw now clearly how much he wanted the same thing.

He would not let her go. He would not hurt her. He would not allow himself to hurt her. He would protect her. She would fill the emptiness in him with light and peace by her own will. But he would not let her go.

"Please stay," she whispered. "Please don't leave."

He exhaled deeply.

"Hold onto me," he whispered in return, "and don't let me leave."