Author's Note: I can see Ulquiorra as the type that carries a hard-shell suitcase.

White Stones

Every grain of sand, every leaf on a tree, everything has a place and a role in this world. There's a logic and pattern given to every little thing, and anomalies are less than welcome, just like in a game of Go.

White stones.

Black stones.

All mixed on a lone 19x19 grid board.

Ulquiorra stared up at the ceiling, an arm resting on his forehead. Every hotel, no matter the city or continent, all have the same façade. Glitter on the surface and starched bleach underneath.

He counted to ten before sitting up. Ulquiorra pinched the bridge of his nose before making his way to a hard-shell suitcase on top of a glass table to get his workout clothes. Minutes later, he stood outside, breathing in the summer air that hinted at morning dew residue and asphalt. There's nothing more calming than running at 5:30 AM, focused only on timing his breathing with the tempo of his footfalls.

At 6:05 AM, Ulquiorra stopped by a local convenience store to pick up a cup of black Americano before returning to the hotel. In the showers, he combed his fingers gently through the wild mane of ebony locks as he focused on a single spot on the bathroom ceiling. His research on Yamashida Haru's gameplays in the last two weeks paints a player who prefers to make safe, calculated, and expected moves. Just like the game of Go had been for Ulquiorra for years now.

No, not just the game, he thought. There's not much in the world to expect as far as he could tell. Hours, days, and minutes were also mundane. Everything is predictable.

Ice cold water flowed in rivulets down Ulquiorra's neck, back, and legs before flowing into the drain. He rubbed his face with his hands and turned off the shower. Ulquiorra picked out a pair of dark pants, a crisp white t-shirt, and the two Go problem books he brought to practice from his suitcase. With measured grace, he settled on the lone chair and bent over the problem set while sipping his coffee. There was no other sound in the room aside from the chair that groaned every time he shifted.

And so, the day marched, and the hands of the clock ticked without him realizing it. Ulquiorra switched between the problem sets and playing practice rounds on his laptops repeatedly. He never missed a beat.

At 6:39 PM, his phone rang, and Ulquiorra was freed from his trancelike state. The chiming bells echoed hollowly in the empty hotel room. He pressed his eyelids closed as he leaned back on the chair to take a deep breath before answering the call.

"ULQUIORRA!" Screamed the woman on the other line. Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck was livid, and Ulquiorra knew why. "Where have you been? You didn't answer any of my text messages. I thought we agreed to meet at Tokyo station before heading to Karakura?"

Her shout almost broke his eardrum, so he held the phone away at a safe distance.

"Hey," she said. "Are you listening? Why didn't you tell me that you wanted to leave early? Everyone's been looking for you."

Ulquiorra remained quiet. By "everyone," Nelliel had meant Aizen and Gin. They can't have one of their rising star pupils disappearing off before a big game all of a sudden.

"I'm at Karakura," he said.

"What? Karakura? Bloody hell, Ulquiorra. Ok. Uh, stay where you are. I'll be there soon."

"Nelliel, you do not need to concern yourself. I am capable of caring for my needs."

"Hey, is that freak face?" Another male spoke on the other line, most likely Grimmjow. Nelliel shushed him to stay quiet.

"Can it, Ulquiorra. Grimmy and I'll be there soon. Stay where you are. And for the love of God, eat something! You probably skipped lunch and dinner again."

There's no stopping Nelliel once she has made up her mind. Ulquiorra internally sighed and lied to pacify her. "I have already eaten."

There was a lull in their conversation, and he thought for a second that Nelliel had finally dropped the call.

"Oh," she said.

"Goodbye," Ulquiorra said promptly.

"Wait, don't hang—"

Ulquiorra pressed his thumb against the red circle on the screen to end the call. He stayed seated for a while until his stomach grumbled. It was a good thing that the hotel was near a convenience store.

Once inside, Ulquiorra beelined for the prepared meal section and spotted the rice balls where a woman with rust-colored hair stood. His appetite had steadily shrunk in recent years, so one rice ball was enough to satiate his hunger until the next day. He reached for the nearest rice ball on the shelf when his hand suddenly collided with the woman.

The lone touch felt like a cold, burning sensation against his skin. Ulquiorra recoiled reflexively. Human contact, no matter how light, was something he abhorred and had avoided as much as possible.

The woman (or is she a girl?) stood rigidly before him, staring rather intensely at his face. Human attention was the next bullet point in his "Annoying" list. Her eyes seem to bore down on him as if peeling away Ulquiorra's many layers before getting to the small person within.

"Do people here like to stare rudely?" He said vehemently. The girl flinched, drawing her hand back to her chest. She stepped back and stammered about laying claim on the rice ball first.

He scoffed. It's a free game as long as it sits on the shelf.

Ulquiorra didn't want to waste another second of his life on the girl and spun on his heels, leaving her behind dumbfounded. He heard her call out but was not interested in whatever nonsense she had to say. Before heading to the register, he grabbed an energy gel packet and a water bottle.

x x x

Summer nights are refreshing and almost as relaxing as an early summer morning. Ulquiorra found a bench and ate his dinner, surrounded by the soft buzzing of cicadas. He loved these kinds of nights, where everything seemed not to matter.

That is until that same woman from the store came into view.

Ulquiorra watched her swing the grocery bag around, oblivious to the world around her. She happily hummed a song that he had a sneaking suspicion was offbeat. She was ordinary, like everything else in the world.

The woman suddenly stopped and stood idly in the middle of the road before taking out her phone. She brought the screen close to her face to scrutinize whatever she was looking at. Ulquiorra thought she looked like an airhead at the convenience store, and her sudden impulsive behavior made him confident she was one. What if a car came running down the road while she lazed around like a loaf? Not that he cares anyway.

"Ulquiorra Cifer!" The woman shouted after snapping from her stupor. "That… that… meanie. He stole my rice ball!"

Oh?

"Ugh! Mr. Pro Go player. Jeez, that doesn't mean he can take someone else's rice balls," she fumed. He sat back and watched as the woman brought her hands into her hair and stomped around in circles. She talked to herself animatedly, making Ulquiorra wonder if she was having a psychotic breakdown.

"I hope I never see that Mr. Mean fart face ever again," she declared as she stomped on the ground and placed her hands on her hips to make her statement clear to the world.

Ulquiorra sipped at the bottle of water he held. After watching her, he deduced that the woman was definitely off her rockers. He hopes he doesn't cross paths with her, either.