Ulquiorra spent most of that day blocking the foreign incentives clouding his thoughts. He had been working on a secret technique, one that he hadn't even discussed with Aizen. He wanted to keep it hidden until he was certain that he could perfectly control every aspect of it.
Transforming into his second resurrection form required more effort than the first, but the time differences were usually slight. A few more training sessions and the timing for both should be identical. Thus, the current focus of his training was to increase the ease of his metamorphosis. He went to an isolated location away from Las Noches and unleashed his first form. This was simple.
When he morphed into his second stage, however, the time lag was longer than usual. He struggled in an attempt to unleash the blackness of his form. It took him twice as long. This is highly unusual. I should be getting faster at achieving my second resurrection. Then it dawned on him that the effects of the woman's reiatsu were still in his system.
This cannot be.
For the rest of his training, Ulquiorra practiced until he achieved his regular speed. Satisfied with his semi-progress, he decided that he would let his body rest. The advanced training always drained his reiatsu, and he could not afford to be performing at mediocre levels should a battle break out. He then practiced controlling his Lanza del Relámpago, but it was more difficult than usual with the recent changes to his system. How much longer will these silly effects persist?
Upon transforming back into his regular form, he reluctantly took another glance at the hole in his chest. Still glowing, still shrunken, it continued to defy him. The circle then reminded him of his duties with the woman. I suppose I should see to her progress.
He walked to her chambers for the second time that day.
He knocked on her door and warned of his entrance. He saw her sitting on the floor, next to the couch, making another house of cards. She ignored his presence.
"Has your condition improved?"
Without looking up at him, she answered, "No. I had to drag myself to get these cards."
He stood in the doorway for several moments, awkwardly watching her build her cards. He then turned to leave, but Orihime broke the silence with a statement.
"You don't usually come to see me twice a day."
The question annoyed him. "Your condition merits attention. It is likely that I will come more often within the next few days to ensure your recovery is on schedule. I suspect it will take a week."
She dropped the cards in her hand.
"A week? You mean I won't be able to walk for a week?"
"Perhaps, though I suspect you may feel sensations in your legs sooner."
"What happened to me? At this point, all of her attentions were focused on him, her expression peeved with her hands flat on the ground.
"You were bitten by a libélula." He explained what they were and what happened.
"How did it get in?"
"My best estimation is that it escaped from the lower chambers of the palace and flew in through your window."
"What if another one escapes? Will I get bitten again?"
"No, I have placed very sensitive spiritual sensors around your door, windows, and room, to ensure that the creatures do not bother you again. Aizen-sama cannot afford another mishap."
"So I'm safe from them?" Orihime warily looked at the window.
"Yes," he replied, annoyed.
He turned to leave, and she hesitated for a bit before she called out to him.
"Wait."
He looked at her.
"Thank you," she stated, and immediately refocused her attention on her cards.
The warm circle in his chest tingled.
.oOo.
During the week of Orihime's recovery, Ulquiorra delivered daily reports about the woman's condition to Aizen. She had been improving as scheduled, so it was only a matter of time before her decision would be made known. She still refused to tell Ulquiorra what she had decided.
The golden circle in Ulquiorra's chest gave way to an entire slough of events he was not quite sure how to interpret. The first thing he noticed was that his visits to the woman grew more frequent. They started at twice a day, then grew to three, and on the last day of her recovery, he visited her a total of four times—once during each of her meals, and a final time before she went to sleep. He convinced himself that he needed to see that she was healing properly, but he was reluctant to admit that there was something about his visits to the woman that added novelty to his schedule. He knew that novelty in any form was irrelevant to his duties, but his cognizance of the newness indicated that he was no longer indifferent to the visits.
The visits also gave him more chances to inquire about various things he had noted about humans. He still considered them uninteresting, but the woman personified every inane characteristic he had always attributed to humans, and he could not ignore this intriguing fact. It was almost amusing to see her frustration at questions she could not answer, and how easily she could be encouraged to talk to her heart's content.
Orihime also noticed that the visits became more frequent, and often wondered about this. She did not mind, because the cards were getting to be extremely boring. Even so, her appreciation for the visits were accompanied by an incredible nagging feeling. I shouldn't want to see him. Do I even want to see him? It's just because I'm lonely and bored. If it were anyone else, I would also feel this way, she often consoled herself. However, by the third day of her recovery, her argument grew less convincing.
She heard the knock on the door, and shifted her position on the couch to face her visitor.
This is the third time he's come today. He's never come this many times…
"Come in," she called.
Ulquiorra wore the same expression as always. He leisurely walked into her room and stood at the door, waiting for the servant to arrive with her food.
She was the first to break the silence.
"I can sense that a little bit more feeling has come into my legs since earlier today."
"Yes, I anticipated as much. Half of your reiatsu was densified and eaten. I imagine that human reiatsu usually takes longer to regenerate. If you were a hollow, you would have recovered in one day."
His last sentence hung in the air.
"Yes, I suppose I would have," Orihime calmly stated. The question of her strength was looming in her mind. She was afraid to ask, but she needed to know.
"Would I really become as strong as an Espada if Aizen-sama uses the Hogyoku on me?" she asked feebly. She felt dirty for having asked the question.
"Yes; I am not uncertain that you might even surpass me in certain aspects. Perhaps not in strength, though your strength would definitely improve. However, your abilities, if sharpened by Aizen-sama, would place you in a very unique category. I expect that you would gain new abilities."
"New abilities?" The thought hadn't occurred to her. She was so focused on her strength that she had not even thought about that.
"Yes. We Espada learned new abilities and can assume other forms with our zanpakutos. It is much like the shinigami with their shikai and bankai."
"I see." She wondered what Ulquiorra looked like in his other form. She wondered what she would look like…she then immediately refrained. Why am I asking him these questions? I shouldn't want this. But if my loyalties remain the same, I can get stronger and help my friends.
"So you really don't remember what happened before Aizen-sama, do you?" she inquired again.
"No."
"And you said that you're the only one this happened to?"
"To my knowledge." He paused. "Why do you focus on your memories? You have already made the decision about where your dedication lies."
"I like who I am. My memories are part of that, and they make up my character." She consciously refrained from talking about her brother or friends. "And all of that hard work in school will also have been a wasted effort…ha, ha," she gave a very light laugh.
Ulquiorra said nothing at the joke.
"Can I ask you a question?" she suddenly asked.
He answered in silence.
"Do you ever…laugh?"
The question came out of nowhere. "Excuse me?" he answered.
"Well, you're so serious all the time. I've seen other Espada laugh…even if it was under cynical circumstances, but they still expressed some kind of emotion. But you…you just stay the same all the time. It's odd."
Ulquiorra processed her question. It was obvious that mirth in any form was foreign to his nature, and she wanted to know why. No one had ever asked this type of information of him, and the question caught him off guard.
"I am not easily humored," was all he could say.
"Have you ever laughed?" Orihime looked very concerned.
Ulquiorra did not answer her question.
She gave him that look once again—the one that seemed to indicate she was making a sincere effort to understand him.
Orihime continued to prod, "Is there anything that makes you smile, at least?"
"Why are you asking me these questions?"
She shrugged. "I just wanted to know, I guess."
She suddenly felt a twinge in her foot.
"Oh!" she squealed. "I felt something in my foot!" She gave him a wide smile and massaged the area that had feeling in it.
Ulquiorra felt the circle in his chest grow warm. He had placed coverings over it so as to mask the color under his garments. Aizen had not noticed it. Every day Ulquiorra would check to see whether it was still there. Every day it remained. As he watched Orihime's grand reaction to something as insignificant as feeling in her legs, he felt the subtle twitch of guilt creep into his mind. Throughout the week he had been consistently expelling it from his thoughts, but not without effort.
"Very well. I will relate it to Aizen-sama when the opportunity arises."
The servant walked in with her food. He placed it in front of her so that she would not need to move.
"Oh, good. Thank you," she stated.
As she ate, Orihime noticed that lately Ulquiorra appeared to be very deep in thought about something. Rather than his usual attentiveness, he stood in his usual spot not completely ignoring her, but not completely watching her, either. At some point during the middle of her meal he retreated to this distracted state of mind. As she observed this, she smiled to herself. I think I've gotten used to having him around.
Orihime had noticed from the start that he was not an unattractive man by any means, but until now, she refused to acknowledge this detail. You can't, she often told herself. As of late, however, his constant presence made his looks even more difficult to ignore, and the emptiness usually accompanying him had noticeably decreased to the point where it felt less foreboding around him.
She slowly shifted her gaze to him.
He was slightly hunched over, with his hands in his pockets—the unusual idiosyncrasy he possessed apart from his melancholy demeanor. His ebony hair fell over his face, and his brilliant, aquamarine-jadish eyes indicated that his thoughts were deep indeed. What must he be thinking about? she mused. She watched him for several more moments before she finally admitted, He really is very attractive.
Ulquiorra realized that the silverware stopped making noise and broke from his thoughts to look at Orihime. For a moment, their eyes locked. Upon realizing this, she immediately looked down at her plate and continued eating, slightly blushing. Did he just catch me looking at him?
He did.
He remained silent but contemplated their interactions when he walked out of her room, particularly the look of interest she had given him. She must be desperate for conversation, he thought. Her questions regarding my humor are irrelevant to anything about which she should be concerned.
He decided that, for whatever it was, her curiosity drew his attention. What he couldn't decide— and the thing that stuck out most in his mind when he caught her looking at him—was whether her curiosity was interesting in itself or because it was aimed at him.
On the other side of the door, Orihime's thoughts also dwelled on the conversation—but mostly they dwelled on the Espada. She frowned. I shouldn't have allowed myself to stare...it's rude.
However, she knew that in reality, rudeness was the least of her worries.
.oOo.
The following day, Orihime refrained from looking at the man when she could, and their conversations only consisted of the matter about the feeling in her legs. Each time, she replied to his questions with her characteristic smile and told him that she was getting better, and each time, her jovial expression invoked the hint of guilt.
He was certain now that it was guilt; whenever she gave him a positive confirmation with one of her effervescent grins, he felt the feeling subside, as if she was implicitly granting him forgiveness. Every time he noticed these subtle shifts in his thought patterns, he immediately pushed them away. I must not allow myself to react. These notions are nothing more than invocations of her reiatsu. He impatiently waited for their effects to cease. They had to cease.
Despite his resolution, the novelty of whatever was going on inside of him led him to keep visiting the woman. By the fifth day of her recovery, it was more noticeable to him that his visits were growing more voluntary in nature. Instead of seeing them completely as a duty, the satiation of his curiosity slowly morphed into a marginal benefit.
On the final day of her recovery, the changes in his thought patterns became most evident. Ulquiorra left her quarters during her third meal. She had almost regained all of her reiatsu, with the exception of a bit of numbness in her right foot. He left her room, and after some time had passed, his walk through the palace hallways was interrupted by an abrupt sensation in his chest. Slowly, a very distinct aura enveloped him. He felt its snaking presence cling to his body and mind. It traveled from his chest through his body and into his head, grasping every part of him until he felt cloaked in it.
Suddenly, it left him—just as unexpectedly as it had appeared.
Ulquiorra immediately headed towards the mirror in his chambers. He approached it cautiously, almost apprehensive about what he would find. He unzipped the top of his garment and peeled away the coverings. The vacuous space had returned to its original size. Compared to its most recent size, it looked large. Gone was the golden outline, its halcyon warmth no longer emanating from his chest. He placed his hand over it, tracing the edges of what had once existed, but he felt nothing. There was only emptiness. He was not troubled over it, but there was also no relief. Whatever novelty had once existed was gone as well. It was as though nothing had ever existed, had never happened. All was just as void as the hole in his chest.
He exited the room, adapting to the changes that had just occurred. He wandered through the palace, recognizing that this was how he operated before the libélula. It is no matter; I will no longer be distracted.
He found himself standing in front of Orihime's door. It seems I have allowed myself to wander back here. I wonder...
He knocked.
On the other side, Orihime was startled. Who could it be? "Who is it?"
"It is only me."
"Oh! Come in!" she replied a little too excitedly.
"What brings you here? Did you forget something?" She was particularly bouncy.
"No." He took several steps forward.
"Oh. Well, you won't guess what hap-pened!" She bounced her head from side to side. "I regained all the feeling I had in my legs! It happened not too long after you left, either!" She twirled around.
It must have returned to her the moment it left me…
"I see. This will please Aizen-sama. Tomorrow you will report to him and inform him of your decision."
Orihime suddenly grew very serious.
"Yes, I suppose you're right."
"Very well." He turned to leave, but before taking his steps outside of the room, Orihime spoke.
"Um…"
He turned his head so that his profile was visible.
"There's something different about you…"
She has noticed?
"The emptiness returned. I could feel that it was gone throughout the entire time I was healing. But, it feels like it's back. It's very heavy. Am I imagining things?" There was sympathy in her tone.
"No."
.oOo.
Ulquiorra left her room marveling at her ability to detect what her reiatsu had done to him. He still did not fully comprehend what it all meant. The period of time in which her recovery took place and the period of time in which her reiatsu remained in my system appear to be identical. Additionally, her reiatsu had left him the moment the numbness in her legs disappeared. Though this puzzled him, he was more curious about the vacuum that had overtaken his faculties. The guilt, the lightness he felt, and the warmth had all disappeared. Despite the vacuum, he was apathetic about the changes themselves; his true nature had taken over, eliminating any irrelevant concerns or perceptions. Nevertheless, he could not decide whether he was indifferent about the apathy, and this is what bothered him the most. He could not forget the novelty of the past week. He did not miss it, yet there was something about what happened to him that he still did not fully comprehend. This, too, was new. It was the first time he was unable to provide an explanation for something. In any event, it is done. It is senseless to fret over something that no longer exists.
Even so, the question of exactly what had once existed lingered in the corners of his mind.
.oOo.
Inside her room, Orihime was practically hyperventilating. "What am I going to tell Aizen tomorrow?"
She sobbed and cried, utterly irresolute about what she should do. Her choices were death or denial of her friends, and her biggest fear was that by serving Aizen she would forget her true loyalties. In that case, she would be just like Ulquiorra, having no purpose, no meaning to her life with the exception of serving a tyrant. She cried even harder, burying her head in her hands. Why did I ever come here?
After finally composing herself, she spent hours weighing out what the consequences of her choices would be. She reflected for a very long time, until the answer finally became clear to her.
She cried herself to sleep.
