Chapter Five: Possession
Making every allowance for moderation, Ichigo caressingly stroked the pink hair which drooped just beneath his chin. The moon was bright enough to read a novel by, granting him every liberty to assess his current circumstances. Meanwhile, he could feel the side of his legs against the nakedness of Octava's thigh. The whole of this almost looked like a vulgarity. And, sure enough, someone had arrived to express just that, in plain equally vulgar words,
"Those are gorgeous legs, Octava. Since you so want them constantly spread, allow me to rip them apart permanently. In other words, get your filthy hands off the kid."
Who else could it have been other than he who possessed the filthiest mouth in the whole of Hueco Mundo? The look on Grimmjow's face implied more than your usual amount of hostility. To further that, he already had one hand on the hilt of his Zanpakotou. But it wasn't Grimmjow's nearly palpable fury that made Ichigo pull away from Szayel; it was Starrk, who was flanking Sexta. Next to him, Lilynette was yawning. Guilt, or what felt like it, appeared to have started gnawing at the teen's chest. Primera spoke just then, his gaze on Szayel,
"Aren't we pushing someone's patience here? You all think I'm nice and calm just because I'm lazy as fuck. But continue pushing and you'll see the other side of me. If you still can't get that through your skull, Octava, hands off the kid."
Defiantly, Szayel leaned back, propped both palms on the bed, heaved one leg atop the other and started swinging his foot rhythmically, completing a look of utter fascination. His smile served to tell Ichigo that Octava had a split personality disorder, otherwise the smile was simply a prelude to a most provoking remark which went like,
"Ichigo and I are actually busy, so why don't you two psycho losers mope over a fucking river, on some bridge preferably, throw yourselves off and just drown?"
How much growing up these three still had to do became apparent to Ichigo all at once. In fact, if he had got a dime for every manner of immaturity any of these Espada had so far demonstrated, he'd be a freaking millionaire. Cornered to the last and final point of his tolerance, he explained,
"Look, Szayel-san's been assaulted by an invisible force, which most likely was the devil itself. He's upset and, because I'm not a callous asshole, I had to calm him."
"Excuse me, but I am well over fucking upset, Shinigami. What do you propose we do about that?!" Grimmjow barked, outraged.
"Shut up, Sexta. You're not upset; I am." Starrk shoved Grimmjow aside before burrowing his gaze at Ichigo, "Kurosaki, she's back—Lilith—and I can't stand the freaking nightmares—"
"—Liar. Do you want me to fetch a damned toilet bowl? With all the bullshit spilling out of your mouth, a freaking water closet is the only damned thing that deserves to hear—"
"—gosh, you bitches are noisy." Szayel interrupted. Seconds later he propositioned Ichigo, "Wanna get a room somewhere?"
The teen's cheeks reddened furiously. It was a long time before he could look at another face without the urge to stare somewhere else. And of course, something like a volcanic eruption exploded off Sexta's lips,
"The fuck was that, Octava?! Kurosaki, don't you answer that with a 'yes'! Don't you fucking dare!"
"So noisy. Let's settle this, shall we not?" Starrk had unsheathed his Zanpakotou.
Moments later, three commands so seldom heard beneath the dome of Las Noches were being uttered all at once;
"Kick it, Los Lobos."
"Grind, Pantera."
"Engorge, Fornicaros."
At this point, Ichigo had to accept that he was experiencing life at a rate of maybe fifty frustrations per hour. And because he couldn't take it anymore, he stood up to scram. At the sight of his retreating figure, the three subdued, as if robbed of their mobility.
"Er, Kurosaki, where are ya going?" Grimmjow asked, completely sounding like he hadn't got anything to do with Ichigo's being unable to put up with anymore dumb shit.
"Somewhere; somewhere so far away from you patience-pushing sons of guns."
That shut them all up. Not only that; each of the three Espada had receded to his original form.
"B—but wait. We need to talk." Primera was almost pleading.
"Do shut up, Starrk. This is all your freaking fault. Unsheathing abruptly for no apparent reason; just what the hell was that all about?" Szayel demanded.
"Dude, you practically offered the boy sex!"
"Whatever."
But Ichigo had scooted away, annoyed beyond reckoning. To top it off, he was most pissed at himself for allowing himself to be seduced like that. Octava Espada was a sight to behold but in what amendment in any constitution did it say one had no right to resist beautiful people?
…
The next two days went on with scarcely any repose. The icons they had planted on corridors were repeatedly and mysteriously being shaken off their places. Ichigo had to wonder how effective the remedy they had been using was. On top of everything, taking Tercera Espada off his mind presented some real difficulty. Of late, the exposed skin on her torso, which was extensive by the way, had appeared to be suffering minor discoloration. Some mild medical condition might have explained it, but Halibel was a freaking Arrancar, therefore she had no business suffering a mundane malady. Due to that, Ichigo found his fist knocking on her door one day. It took him three sets of knocks to be ushered inside by Apache.
"Make it quick, Shinigami. Halibel-sama is in no mood to chat."
There wasn't any need for that. One look was all it took ascertain the truth in the Fraccion's warning. From Tercera's common room, she could be seen through the gaping door sitting desolately in front of the window, her back on them.
"She's been like that since yesterday." Sun-sun said to no one in particular.
Presently, Ichigo had no particular desire to approach Halibel, but also no particular reason not avoid doing so. He took a step forward, whereby he distinguished a faint reiatsu. Quinto's. But clearly Nnoitra Jiruga was not here as of the moment.
"Has Jiruga-san been here?"
"Not since yesterday." When Mila Rose answered, some evasive manner was all evident in her speech.
Ichigo began to wonder how much these Fracciones did and did not know. Jiruga's and Halibel's reiatsu could faintly be discerned, intertwined, but the quality boded something else; Jiruga had been sleeping here, in her bedchamber. Ichigo could sense it ever so faintly. More than that, some manner of serious intimacy seemed to have been regularly occurring here. On the onset, he had deduced Quinto was somehow attracted to Tercera, but had reciprocity ever been present? Halibel's icy and no-nonsense conduct obviously had served as an obstacle for the opposite sex to hit on her. Or maybe he just couldn't imagine someone as crude as Nnoitra winning Tercera over. His logic was simply against it. His gaze landed on her back, but before any further conclusion could be reached, a shapeless form caught his attention.
Cub-chan idled at the foot of her chair.
A gasp escaped his throat. His memory shored off to that one time when he, the six Espada, Lilynette and Tesla had attended a meeting where Cub-chan had showed up. The Tres Bestias hadn't been in attendance, hence the possibility of them knowing not a single horseshit about the devious nature of the cursed stuffed animal was huge. But then shouldn't have Halibel relayed the info to her trusted entourage? He was pretty sure Tercera wasn't a moron. As a matter of fact, Halibel was of the wiser type. By this time, the Tres Bestias had retired to their side of the suite, leaving him standing forlornly a few meters away from Tercera.
"Have you come to fuck me like what that praying mantis always does?" Came Tercera's voice, except that it wasn't her voice.
In fact, the words came in varying low octaves, as if at least three voices had spoken them all at once. At that, Ichigo's complexion paled to the point of an utter lack of color. First, he considered he must have been imagining it. Next, he tried to convince himself that getting scared shitless of an extra blunt question seemed out of proportion with his personality, and, hell yeah, he was going to haul his ass out of here. No matter what. He procured a step backward before he could be rendered completely rigid, mumbled some incoherent and obviously invented pretext at Apache as she came into view, and then zoomed out of the room.
Skipping steps to lord knew where, heedless like unruly children, he employed his godlike speed and was well nigh resorting to his Ban Kai for some extra boost in his acceleration. And then his crazy flight was brought to a halt when a mighty force rammed him from the side. Having been lurched sideway, he reached for support on the nearest wall.
Ulquiorra was closing in on him.
"What's with the haste, Kurosaki?" Cuatro inquired.
It took the Shinigami a couple of minutes to catch his breath, "You didn't have to knock me off like that. Anyway, Ulquiorra, listen to me: Quinto is fucking a demon!"
Ulquiorra saw nothing to lament in this info and was somewhat cool about it. As a fact, he rejoined with the straightest face ever to be seen on a head,
"Quinto fucks with anyone."
"No, you dumb—I mean—it's Halibel. Jiruga's been sleeping with Halibel-san."
"Hoax."
"Cuatro, do I look like I'm joking? Hell, why do I even bother?" Ichigo, resigned to anything now, gave up trying to explain. He gathered himself and decided to bid the other goodbye, "I'm heading off to Szayel's computers. Ciao."
"You can use mine. You all think Octava is the only one who has access to the internet. I do too, Kurosaki. And I also have a library. Yesterday I collected a number of volumes from the human world."
That was enough to satisfy the teen. In no time flat, Ichigo and Ulquiorra were immersing themselves in theological hardbacks and other volumes which dealt with paranormal cases, hardly ever stopping to rest. Ulquiorra's quarters were expansive, and the tasteful arrangements with which the pieces of furniture in his room were laid out made reading inviting. But not the environment, nor Ulquiorra's well-bred conduct was disposing Ichigo any better to the matter at hand. At length, Ichigo explained, never taking his eyes off the book,
"Halibel-san is possessed. That was what I was trying to say earlier. I wanted the Tres Bestias to run for their lives but it wouldn't seem right to leave their mistress alone."
Ulquiorra seemed unprepared to receive such ill news. And yet it wasn't the specifics in that news that was disconcerting him; it was Ichigo's behavior toward it. The boy seemed deeply concerned about their well-being, and to testify that, the agitation registering on his face was as sincere as any other. Cuatro could not explain it, but the thing that was drawing him toward the Shinigami was most likely one of those inexplicable forces in life. Is this the doing of a heart?, was the question ringing in his skull. And so he took the seat at Ichigo's side.
"You're beating yourself up?"
"Not really. It's just that I really wish to help Tercera."
"May I suggest you don't overexert yourself?"
"Ulquiorra, let's face it; you won't find anyone else in the whole galaxy who would put up with half the shit I'm putting up with here."
Over the table, Ulquiorra's hand graced his. All at once, Ichigo was struck by the futility of fighting against the admiration which had been tugging at him ever since he had sat down. On his own accord, Cuatro had amassed reading materials which would no doubt be of some use to their current circumstances. It wouldn't take a genius to presume this dude to be the most dependable one among his comrades. In fact, he easily reminded Ichigo of their school's president of the students' council, on whom he had a huge crush. But while that girl was friendly and quite a chatterbox, Ulquiorra was just the straight out opposite. Nevertheless, they seemed to give off the same glow.
Just like that, with the feel of the Espada's hand on his, Ichigo started seeing Ulquiorra for what he truly was; a white dove trooping with ravens. Of course, there had been times in the past week where he had exhibited immature competitiveness, but not once in any occasion had his composure been lost. Indeed, the depths of his green eyes now revealed nothing of the animosity and derision he had received one and a half years ago during their deadly clash inside Aizen's stupid throne room. Somehow, he was feeling a sort of gratitude for Inoue Orihime and Kisuke Urahara for bringing this Espada back to life, when at that time a million hesitating protests and concessions had escaped his mouth. In fact, Ichigo had behaved like a schizo.
"Kurosaki-kun, we may have some future use of him." Kisuke had said.
"But, but…"
"When he disintegrated to dusts at that time, you were trying to call him back, remember?" Inoue had asked.
Ichigo had tried to call him back under the belief that Cuatro had died unjustly, without a fight. Their match had not been conducted on equal grounds; Ulquiorra had been thrashed by the mysterious Hollow inside Ichigo. For days, this knowledge had gone on to eat him whole, until Urahara had knocked on his window, proposing a certain procedure. And hence now…
At this point, their faces were gradually extinguishing the distance separating them. While it happened, Kurosaki Ichigo was becoming aware of a very potent conviction, that in another era and in a faraway land, he could've fallen in love with Ulquiorra Cifer. Hard.
TBC