Chapter 17

"He attacked you?"

His words stun me. Throw me for a loop because they're not the ones I was expecting him to say. Not after the scene I've made, baiting and taunting Nnoitra to my heart's content. The fact that I've even made it out of this whole ordeal unscathed is almost as surprising as his words.

Though that's mostly only because I expected a scolding to rival his previous one about not making unnecessary enemies when Aizen's protection is only temporary. But no scolding comes. Instead, he patiently waits for an explanation, eyes staring into mine and something tells me I won't be getting out of explaining this one.

"Who?" I ask, both stalling and asking for clarification because, well, they both Grimmjow and Nnoitra had attacked me. "Grimmjow or Nnoitra? 'Cause Nnoitra kind of already confessed, so I don't think that's the one you're asking about but I'd hate to rat anyone out."

I'm babbling, I know I am, but I can't help it as the fading adrenaline rush leaves me shaky and wound up at the same time. It's only cause I'm all jittery that Ulquiorra's question sounds like an interrogation even though it really shouldn't

"Both."

"Ah! Yes, Nnoitra attacked me before the meeting," I tell him because at least that one isn't a secret anymore. "The one to welcome Orihime. Starrk saved me, though. He was a little late, obviously, but better late than never, right?"

"Right," he agrees but it feels almost as if it's less to do with him actually agreeing with me and more like he's trying to get to the next part. The Grimmjow part. "And Grimmjow?"

Called it.

"Well, see that one's a little more complicated," I mumble, struggling to come up with a way to not actually answer that question. "How did Nnoitra even come up with that anyway? Other than just now, I've only been left alone with Grimmjow once and it had been on a mission with Luppi, Yammy, Wonderweiss, and you. So really, it could have been anyone. Plus, I wasn't the only one that returned injured, so really, it could have been the Shinigami for all he knows."

"If it had been the Shinigami, you would have revealed it to Aizen," Ulquiorra explains, eyes still lock onto mine and I can't help breaking eye contact with him as he catches me in my lies. "But you didn't. Instead, you hid the source of your injuries. Yammy has also stated you were uninjured before Grimmjow took you away."

"Yammy said that huh?" I ask, internally cursing my luck as I shuffle uncomfortably under his gaze. "I didn't take you guys for the gossiping kind. Must be interesting, the kind of shit you guys get up to for there to be a gossiping ring established enough for you all to come up with Grimmjow attacking to be the only answer."

"Information is valuable," he says and, in a world full of blood-thirsty monsters, I don't doubt it. "The right information can keep you alive for another day."

"Information?" I ask, the bitterness in my voice too deep for him not to notice as I finally turn my gaze back to him. "If you guys value information so much, why is no one listening to me? I've told you already that you're all going to die so why aren't you guys doing anything?"

There's more than bitterness in my voice towards the end. There's desperation in them. It coats them. So much so that it would leave me seething if I wasn't already so wiped out emotionally.

"Because your information is untested," he explains, and I would call the words soothing if his tone wasn't so flat. I appreciate the attempt anyway. Finding it soothing even though the tones are all wrong. "As a mere human, your word is worthless until you have proven yourself."

And I get that. I really do. In a world as cruel as this one the wrong information can get you killed. But it doesn't stop the sting. It only fans the burning need to be useful when I've spent my whole life being anything but.

"If I told you that Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, the missing Tercera Espada, is still alive, would you believe me?" I ask, voice low as I lean back against the wall in something that feels a lot of defeat. When he doesn't answer, I can't help but continue, "No? What about if I told you Kenpachi will kill Nnoitra and Tesra and I just sent them to their deaths? Or if I told you Ichigo won't actually kill Grimmjow because Ichigo's just too kind-hearted? Or that Gin's going to—"

His hand comes up then, cutting me off as he presses the palm of it to my lips. The action is soft, careful as if he's finally realized our differences in species means that I'm a lot more fragile than he has given me credit for before.

"I will believe you," he says, and I can't help the way my eyes sting, turning watery at the relief of finally being listened to. At being taken seriously by the one I'm most desperate to save. "If it means that much to you, I will believe all you have to say, but you must never speak of what any of the Lords have planned. Understand?"

I do, I really do but there's so much I need to say, especially now that someone's willing to believe me. So I tug at his wrist, trying to move his hand but it doesn't so much as budge. It stays firm against my lips as he shakes his head because, as much as I finally want to scream the future of this world and all the creatures in it, the conversation was finished as soon as I said Gin's name.

Gin is not to be messed with.

"Do you understand?"

With nothing for it, I nod then, eyes turning down in regret at my own stupidity. The hand on my lips finally shifts then, skimming across my skin to take my chin as he tilts my head back up to meet his eyes.

"You have not yet confirmed if Grimmjow has attacked you," Ulquiorra reminds me, and I almost break eye contact with him, but his hold tightens just the tiniest bit. A warning. One much softer than any he's ever given me before. "But I understand your reluctance to do so, especially now."

That last part confuses me because it shouldn't be there, the 'especially now' bit. It implies something has changed. Something major and I can't, for the life of me, figure out just what it can be. Though, if there's one thing I can at least be sure of it's that Grimmjow's at the root of it all. If not the direct cause of it.

"We will have to feed Orihime soon," Ulquiorra says then, changing the conversation before I can ask him what the hell is going on. Dropping my chin, his hand goes to wrap around mine, completely skipping his usual hold on my upper arm as he does. "Though she refused the meal you made for her earlier."

"If you're trying to blame that on my cooking, you're wrong," I tease, or try to anyways but the words are stiff in my mouth, so the joke falls flat. "She was going to go on a hunger strike no matter what."

"Then why offer your cooking?" he asks as he begins to lead me back down the halls. Even though the path we take is indistinguishable from every other one we've taken, I know we're heading to the kitchen.

"I was hoping the offer of actually palatable food would keep her from doing it," I tell him, shrugging because that's all it is. Keeping Orihime fed during her short stay here hadn't been for any advantage against her or any of them. It had only been about keeping her comfortable in this truly horrid environment. "Though a few missed meals aren't going to cause her more than a bit of discomfort."

He nods then and, with nothing more to say, we make the rest of the trip to the kitchen in silence. Though, thankfully, the silence between us isn't tense. It's comfortable. Normal enough that I don't bother to try to break it with idle small talk.

Instead, I spent the walk there allowing the reality of the situation to settle within me because, well, this is it. The war is here and the death of many of them with it. It'll be sometime within the next hours that Ulquiorra will face Ichigo for the first time. Hell, it could be in the next hour for all I know. The actual timing of the fights is something I'd never bothered to consider. Not when every fight seemed to go on forever. And yet, this whole war never took more than a day.

Just one single day.

So that's all I have left now. There are less than 24 hours, four fights, and two almost deaths for Ichigo left until Ichigo kills Ulquiorra. And I'm not sure I'm prepared for any of it. Not when Aizen seems dead set on rushing towards his defeat and no one cares to listen to what I have to say.

But Ulquiorra does, right?

Yeah, right.

He may have said so himself and, as much as I appreciate the unintended sentiment of his words, sadly, I'm not foolish enough not to have realized Ulquiorra saying so probably had less to do with him actually believing me and more to do with getting me to shut up before I put us both in danger by slandering Gin of all people. And out in the open too.

I'm an idiot, I know I am, but even then, I can't help but find myself wishing that his words are real. That he really will believe me if I tell him everything he's going to have to watch out for in the next few hours. It's a hopeless thing to wish for, but the need to be believed still burns bright enough that I almost do it.

As we arrive in the kitchens, entering to find the whole place empty as always, so it almost feels like we're sequestered in our own little world. Safe from the endless dangers of the world outside, I almost tell him every single move Ichigo will make and, subsequently, Grimmjow's betrayal.

Because that's what it is, isn't it? Technically? By bringing Orihime to heal Ichigo, he betrayed them, didn't he? Whether he planned to kill Ichigo afterward or not, Grimmjow betrayed them all. Especially when Ichigo was well on his way to dead already, with no hope of surviving without Orihime.

So Grimmjow betrayed them.

And it's that thought alone that stops the words from spilling out of my mouth as I make my way to the icebox to pull out everything I will need for Orihime's last meal here. Because I can't.

I can't get the words out of my mouth then. They lodge in my throat, thick and uncomfortable and all but choking me as I fight to get them out and swallow them down at the same time.

If Ulquiorra notices my plight, he says nothing as he moves to take a seat at the empty table. The very same table that still holds the remnants of yesterday's dinner. There's a wine bottle dangling dangerously along the edge of it, spilled wine staining the unfinished oak of it a deep red. Ulquiorra doesn't bother to lift the bottle. He lets it dangle there, uncaring if it shatters against the floor or not.

It's the sight of the bottle that remains me that I've been up all night, if you don't count the time I spent unconscious thanks to Aizen. And that it is still unbearably early. It can't possibly be past eight in the morning. Not that I have any way of knowing whether or not it is, but if Ulquiorra's saying it's already time to feed Orihime, it can only be breakfast time. Yet, no tiredness overtakes me.

I feel good, for all the Aizen almost crushed me within an inch of my life just an hour ago, I feel like I've slept all night, the aches pain of the whole fiasco faded away to nothing now. I feel like if I didn't spend all night up, running around, and facing deranged monsters hellbent on ending me.

"So I don't know any Japanese dishes," I tell Ulquiorra when I can finally make my throat work enough to spit anything out. He says nothing in reply, just continues to watch me as I look through the icebox, trying to figure out just what kind of breakfast I can make that Orihime won't mind eating. "Do you think she'll mind a traditional American breakfast? I'd hate for you to actually have to force-feed her."

"If she eats, I won't have to."

"Right," I mutter, rolling my eyes as I do. With nothing for it, I pulled out eggs, bacon, and milk. I can't remember if Orihime had a bit of a sweet tooth or not. Never really having paid much attention to her character before, her likes and dislikes are a complete mystery to me. Still. "No one can resist pancakes, right?"

Ulquiorra says nothing that time and I can't blame him for it considering he most likely has no idea what a pancake even is. But sweet tooths are common enough that I figure there's a fair shot that Orihime will be too drawn to the pancakes to turn them down.

"Are you hungry?" I ask him as I move around the kitchen to pull out everything I need for the simple breakfast. It soothes something in me to ask the question. It's so domestic, so normal a question to ask that it eases that fills me at not telling Ulquiorra everything. "I can make extra pancakes if you want."

"I do not eat human food," he reminds me, and I spare a quick glance at him to find him staring at the bottle still sitting precariously on the edge of the table. Slowly, his fingers wrap around it, righting it before it can tip off the edge.

"Just because you don't, doesn't mean you can't," I tell him, eyes going back to my cooking just before I crack an egg into the pancake mix. I'm in no rush, it's still early enough that I can take my time cooking breakfast. "Aizen makes you guys drink his stupid tea, so I know you guys are at least capable of eating it."

"Drinking Aizen's tea during meetings is mandatory," he reveals then and I can't help the sharp laugh that escapes me then, because of course. Only Aizen would force Arrancars to choke down his damn tea whether they want to or not.

"At least it's only tea," I tell him, shrugging because, yeah tea is the safer option out there. "He could have you guys drinking coffee instead. Though I'm sure he didn't cause even he knows that would have been a disaster waiting to happen."

"How so?"

"Coffee has caffeine," I explain, not bothering to hide the smile that comes to my lips at the thought of just what antics a bunch of bloodthirsty monsters could get up to if you threw caffeine into the mix.

"So do most teas," Ulquiorra tells me, head tilting to the side when I look back to him, grin still firmly in place. It only serves to turn my smile softer, fonder as I watch him try to figure out why coffee would be worse when the caffeine is still in both.

"Coffee has way more caffeine," I tell him, gaze going back to my cooking then. Though it's such a simple meal, that it doesn't really require much attention, so soon I find myself considering something I hadn't really thought about before. "Wait, have you even eaten?"

I haven't seen him eat once since I got here, be it a poor soul unfortunate enough to cross his path, or even an Arrancar. Or heck, even some kind of Arrancar-specific food meant to keep them from eating each other.

He doesn't reply then, going quiet and I really don't expect him to. Ulquiorra has always been the chattiest of the Espada, so his sudden silence is enough to draw my gaze. Looking up from pouring a pancake into a pan, I find him staring right back at me in something that feels an awful lot like confusion despite his still blank face.

He looks too still then, like a statue, frozen in thought even as his gaze remains locked on me. It's the unnatural stillness that makes me take him in completely then, eyes traveling over his thin frame. But it isn't until my eyes lock back onto his eyes, bright green and surround by so much pale white skin that only serves to make them shine brighter, that I remember that food to Hollow Ulquiorra, in any way, shape, or form, had been something impossible to consume.

And not because he may not have wanted to, but because his mask would have made it impossible.

It had made everything impossible. Smell, sound, touch, and even eating. All but sight. It had taken everything from him except sight. Had left him incapable of all but viewing the world around him and understanding none of it.

"Have you seriously not eaten since I got here?" I ask him, the horror in my voice enough to have his eyes widening just the tiniest bit then. As focused as I am on him, I catch the widening of his eyes and take it as all the confirmation I need.

He continues to say nothing and simply watches me. Distracted as I am, I don't notice that I bring my hand too close to the pan until searing heat shoots up my fingers. I can't stop the curse that leaves me then. Though it's low, more of a gasp than an actual curse as I move my hand away and try to shake off the heat that lingers at my fingertips.

"Jesus, Ulquiorra, go get something to eat," I tell him, turning my full attention back to cooking before I can burn myself again. Carefully placing the pancake on top of the small stack I already have going, I pour another.

"I am an Arrancar," he reminds me, and I can't help looking at him in confusion because, yeah, that much is obvious. At the look I give him, he lets out a 'tsk' and stands. "Therefore if I were to consume anything it would have to be a soul, a hollow, or a lesser Arrancar."

"So?" I ask as he almost stalks towards me. His steps are slow, almost as he's waiting for me to get the hint, but I just keep staring at him, confused as I place the last pancake with the rest. Next, I should start on the scrambled eggs, but the sight of Ulquiorra stalking towards me stops me from adding any more food to the fire.

"So," he begins drawing close enough that I almost reach for him. I'm so used to the concept that being near him means he's about to grab me that I almost instigate the touch myself. But one look at how his eyes are still firmly locked onto me stops me. "I remember you seeming to be against that notion earlier."

Oh right, the scene I made in the hallway earlier.

"That's different," I tell him even though, yeah, no, it really isn't any different at all. He's well within my personal space now and I can't help but blush. It catches me off guard, the blush, and I can't pinpoint just why I'm embarrassed at having him so close.

"Is it now?" he asks, hand coming up so that his finger can brush over the skin of my cheeks. They're soft as they do and cold enough that they soothe the burning heat of the blush without really meaning to.

"Yes, they were doing more than just eating. They were torturing their prey," I explain, leaning into that hand when it goes to cup my cheek. My eyes flutter close as I do, savoring his touch as I fight off the thoughts of what I'm going to do if I lose him.

What if I fail to stop his death?

"Yes they were," he agrees, voice sounding closer than it should. It pulls my eyes open, the closeness of his voice, and I open them to find his face right in front of mine, lips only inches from mine. "But what makes you think I wouldn't do the same?"

"Are you going to eat me?"

My words come out normal, with no shakiness or fear in them. There's nothing but genuine curiosity in my voice and it catches him off guard. His eyes widen the tiniest bit again. This close, I can see how his pupils dilate as well, widening in time with his eyes.

It's the littlest things, I realize then. The smallest changes, unnoticed by most, that show just where exactly Ulquiorra's emotions would lie if only he could feel them. But he can't because his masked had robbed him of that too.

Had broken and twisted him until even the sensations in his body were foreign to him.

"You can," I tell him and it's true, unbelievably so. Death at his hands somehow seems endlessly better than any other way I can die. Especially when surviving this war isn't something I'm sure I can even accomplish. "I'm not going to live through this war anyway."

And the truth of it hits me so hard in that moment that I don't find it surprising at all. Instead, I close my eyes again, leaning further into Ulquiorra's hand even as I reach up to place mine over it, twinning my fingers through his as I do.

Yes, it's sad that I probably won't see much past Hueco Mundo or ever set eyes on the Soul Society, but that had never been a reason I would even dream to be here. No, the only reason I would want to be stuck in this universe would be to see this man, Hollow or Arrancar or Enemy of the world.

My only reason for being here is him.

And absolutely nothing can beat giving my life for him in any way that he will take it. Not when every single one of my seventeen years have amounted to this. When every single miserable day of struggling to get by can finally mean something. When every harsh word ever thrown my way can finally be wrong.

When I can finally be anything but useless.

After spending seventeen years of your life being nothing more than a burden to the world around you, nothing in this world is more addicting than being needed. Than being anything other than useless and unwanted for it.

"I'm not going to eat you," he almost whispers then, still sounding just as close as when I closed my eyes. I almost heave a sigh then, dejected that he has no use for me either. "There's enough Reishi in Hueco Mundo's air that feeding on others is unnecessary."

"It's that simple, huh," I mutter, eyes opening to find his again. He meets my gaze head-on, any confusion he should be feeling completely absent from his eyes as they meet mine. "Well, if you ever get hungry enough, the offer still stands."

This time I can't help but laugh when I catch the slight widening in his eyes. Grandma once said that the eyes are the windows to the soul and as I watch his eyes settle back into his indifferent gaze, I know she wasn't wrong.

"Now move, I have to finish cooking."

Releasing his hand, I shoo him away so I can do just that. He lets me go easily, but not before his fingers brush over my cheek one last time. The cold of his fingers linger long after the food has been served, ready to be taken to Orihime.

"Will you not be eating?" Ulquiorra asks when he sees I have no plate or food set aside for myself. All of the food has been set on the cart meant to be taken to Orihime's room, so that it is packed with more than enough food for one.

"Actually, I'm going to join her for breakfast," I tell him as I set a jug of Orange Juice on the cart. With that set, breakfast is ready to be wheeled to Orihime. "I'm hoping my presence might help in getting her to eat."

"Why would it?" he asks, not stopping me when I get behind the cart and start to push it towards the door. Instead, he follows me, willing to let me eat with Orihime for all that he thinks it won't work. "You're the enemy."

"I'm human," I tell him like it's the only explanation I need. And because this is Orihime, too pure and too trusting, it is all the explanation I need. It doesn't matter that I'm dressed in the uniform of Aizen's men or that I'm accompanying Ulquiorra because I really am just a human, fragile and powerless.

And it doesn't hurt that she's seen me bloody and beaten.