Sorry for the wait! D: writing block attacked my soul for most of this .; And again there aren't any spaces between paragraphs, because I don't know how! DX Someone tell meeeeee ;U;
"Woman. Why are you still here?" asking was pointless, but Ulquiorra did so anyways.
Orihime yawned, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. It wasn't fast enough for Ulquiorra to miss the flash of blunt teeth, and he was again reminded of how fragile these creatures were; they possessed no natural weapons- they had inferior sight, smell, hearing, touch, and taste. It amazed him how they hadn't been wiped out long ago with physical prowess as limited as theirs was. Finished with her jaw cracking yawn, Orihime offered up a tired "I was talking with Urahara and fell asleep I guess. Sorry." and blinked slowly, still half asleep.
"Sorry for what?" Ulquiorra's head tilted, the predawn light reflecting weakly off the polished bone helmet, showing off the smooth perfection of the carapace. Did all humans make such little sense, or was it only her?
"Oh, I don't know; I'm tired right now and I'm sure I don't make much sense." Orihime said wearily, waving a hand through the air dismissively then bringing it down to rub an eye sleepily, and tugging the other through her messy orange locks. "I'm not going to be able to comprehend much this early in the day. I'll see you at school in an hour or so Ulquiorra." Orihime finished strangling her rebellious hair into an ambiguous sort of order, and then headed off in the direction of her apartment, comically tottering a few steps to the side before finding her center of balance again.
Shaking his head, Ulquiorra soundlessly lifted off into the air once more- a few extra minutes in his first release wouldn't hurt anything. Silently, he swooped down and locked his arms around Orihime's middle, using a sonido to shoot high enough into the sky so her scream would be lost in the vacuum of the wind. Asking if he could fly her home would be too much effort and her scream would have sent police running, so a surprise snatch was the easiest method. If he concentrated, Ulquiorra could feel her racing heart through her lower ribcage where he carried her gently- chances were Orihime didn't share in his opinion of the method he'd chosen being the best.
In spite of having not made a sound the last time he'd bruised her from dragging her around like this, he still knew she'd suffered from a tender midsection for a few days; so he made sure to be more attentive to how hard he was holding her this time- they weren't being attacked by a massive wall of purple muck, so he was in no rush. Indeed, he took his sweet time, the beats of his wings paced so far apart they might as well have been in slow motion. Feeling her heart decline from its breakneck pace, Ulquiorra looked down to see a very flat glare being shot at him.
"You almost gave me a heart attack. Where are we going?" Orihime grumbled, but relaxed into Ulquiorra's hold a little more.
"Yes, I can feel that I did almost give you a heart attack actually- my apologies" The ex Espada didn't sound the least bit apologetic; he sounded amused in fact. "And I'm taking you home. This isn't the….safest time to be out alone, and it gives me a reason to stay out longer anyways." Ulquiorra feigned aloofness, but watched in interest as the blood tainted her cheeks again. That is, until she glanced down at the scenery scrolling by, lights from houses lazily strolling past. Hmph. He'd make sure to find out why her face darkened like that- his curiosity wouldn't be sated until he knew.
Surprisingly, Ulquiorra was as warm as an average person despite his rather dead color. "The arrancar's hierro must be selective or something, because Ulquiorra feels nice and soft." She thought. "If an arrancar's hierro functioned all the time under all circumstances, how would they do simple things like holding pens and eating with chopsticks? They wouldn't be able to tell the pressure they were putting on the items, and would end up crushing them into dust. That, and it would feel like I was being hugged by a rock right now." By now, Orihime ignored the unrelenting blush with moderate success.
The beat of Ulquiorra's wings could be felt all throughout his body, shuddering into Orihime with every smooth stroke that rent the air. Gazing at the world below, feeling the freedom of being suspended in the cool predawn air, it was no wonder Ulquiorra lived for moments like these- it was breathtaking. The sun laboriously hauled itself up over the edge of the Earth, shining its sleepy light over the still-waking land as though tired itself. Orihime expected to see the ground draw closer, but instead it got farther away. Ulquiorra flew up, bringing them above the layer of already thinning-in-the-early-light clouds. The air was thin and cold, attempting to freeze Orihime from the inside out with its chilled breath. The sun here was stronger and glinted off the suspended cumulus clouds, every fleck of water capturing every ray of light thrown at it and returning the ray twice as brilliantly, and some even adding a rainbow if seen from the right angle. This was a view some people would pay an arm and a leg to see in person, if for a moment.
Ulquiorra was puzzled by his own actions- why was he taking this woman up, instead of down? Why was he pleased when he heard and felt her badly hidden quick intake of breath? Why was he bothering to share the view with her? He mentally shook himself. He was acting like a human, which he no longer was. But the heart that beat in his chest and the slightest of smiles on his face argued otherwise. He flared his wings and spiraled slowly down, lighting atop the roof of the apartment. Hopefully nobody had seen the human floating down from the heavens, as he would have been invisible- not Orihime. He broke his hold on her the moment they touched ground, and stepped back, impassivity draped over his face as always.
"That was…incredible, Ulquiorra. Did you fly like that around Las Noches?" Orihime asked, much more awake than she'd been before he'd practically kidnapped her from the street.
"I did not." he stated emotionlessly.
"I see. And why has that changed?" Orihime challenged him, stepping forward a bit, head dipping to the side as her slate gray eyes studied his blank face.
"It has not." Ulquiorra lied, hearing Murciélago crack up within his mind at the foolish stubbornness he was presenting.
"Mhm. That's exactly why you don't go flying every Wednesday and on weekends, and didn't take the time to show me that view when you could have dropped me and been on your way, right?" Orihime smirked triumphantly as the arrancar's mouth opened, and then snapped shut again. The very fact that he was at a loss for words now was proof of how different he was.
"I've changed. I'm still changing. Everything is moving too fast for me to keep up with for once." The words were on the tip of his tongue, fighting to get out, but Ulquiorra held them back fervently. These thoughts would never have dared to encroach upon his mind while an Espada- he wouldn't have stood for it. Being made to know how to feel, surely Ulquiorra had become weak. Emotion was a weakness, a hindrance- it brought no good, so why bother with it? Upon locking eyes with Orihime though, he knew it didn't matter if he shouted the word at the top of his lungs- he didn't have to say a thing, and this woman could STILL read his thoughts. And judging from the spark of understanding in her eyes, it was clear she'd read those words as easily as if he'd spoken them.
Ulquiorra had to hand it to her- she'd hit the nail on the head. She'd asked the same questions he'd been asking himself since he'd been dumped in this infernal place. He was rendered even more speechless when she reached out and flicked one of the bony horns extending from his bleach-white helmet playfully and chirped "See you in a bit!" before trotting into the entrance to the stairwell leading down to her apartment. Shaking himself of his stupor, he lighted from the rooftop, soaring back to the shop on silent black wings. All the while Ulquiorra could feel Murciélago's amusement at him; much to his irritation- it certainly was not funny! He might be becoming more in sync with human emotions every second, but he retained enough of his old tendencies to loathe the feel of feeling.
Just as the sun managed to pull itself fully over the edge of the Earth, Ulquiorra landed gracefully outside the Urahara shop. Shedding his wings, the Espada uniform replaced the long, eerie robe of his first release. His helmet split in half, and he cringed; it always subconsciously reminded of the first time his mask had ever cracked and half split off. The resealing of Murciélago, the bottling up of that true power, it came at a price; albeit a small one (a broken mask) yet an annoying one at most. The bone scaffold crumbled into dust, the wind carrying it away on tender fingers to be dispersed among the world once more. Ulquiorra watched the particles float off, contemplating… everything. Everything he'd ever thought he'd known had been questioned, every "foolproof" method he'd stood by challenged, and without these foundations on which to base his actions off of, he was left balancing on the edge of a knife. He could let these side effects of the knowledge he'd gleaned continue to draw him in, or he could cut the hydra's body before this head of problems split and divided into an even greater predicament.
Bringing Murciélago up to eye level with him, Ulquiorra silently asked the glinting metal "which?" Murciélago gave him what he felt was akin to a bop on the head from the inside of his skull rather than the outside, and a mental image of the look on the woman's face when he'd shared the sky with her was rudely pushed at his mind's eye. "You think I should let change take me. What good will it do?" he murmured, running a finger along the flat of the blade, a slice of his own reflection staring back. It seemed too late for Ulquiorra to decide the want to change, for he appeared to have already done so; the absolute apathy gone, replaced with only a cold expression.
Yet, even that was emotion of a sort. The old guise of total blankness could still be called upon he found to his relief, but consciously would he need to do so for it to always be in place. Turning the katana, it caught the light and glimmered dully- Murciélago had never been one for flagrant displays of power, but after such a long time of sealing had eagerly overdone things during its battle with Ichigo. It's pent up energy released, Murciélago was much the same as its master- inconspicuous, but with an underlying power that demanded submission or in the least, respect. At peace with his decision for whether he'd admit it or not, the blade's opinion meant much to him, he sheathed Murciélago and swept into the shop, satisfied now that he had some semblance of a plan.
Soundlessly walking in, he stopped short at his gigai's undignified position- it lay sprawled across the floor, snoring quietly, a teddy bear tucked innocently under its arm. It was disturbing to see a body in the likeness of his own like this. Ulquiorra reminded himself for the umpteenth time to ask Urahara exactly WHY he'd chosen THIS mod soul. Were all mod souls this defective? Snagging the soul extracting glove that lay atop a nearby rack of chips, he tossed it at the mod soul, not willing to disgrace himself by actually putting the glove on and removing the soul directly. The glove slapped on the mod soul's face, and it flailed comically for a moment before the soul pill shot out and hit the wall, creating a slight dent. The gigai sat there vacantly, waiting for an occupant, its dazed stare unfocused. Ulquiorra reluctantly merged with the fake body, feeling as if he was drugged.
Out the window, all the way down the street, a person walked by. But in this pathetic human body, all he could make out was a smudge of color. Instead of being able to hear traffic on the major road outside of town, all he could hear was the rhythmic swishing of the fan that spun lazily overhead, and even that sounded muted. Being what he naturally was, the essence of a bat inexplicably intertwined within himself, his hearing was something he relied on almost before even eyesight (which, he was grateful for every day, wasn't nearly as bad as a bat's.) He could smell literally close to nothing, only the usual strange mustiness of the shop managing to be powerful enough for him to pick up. The only things about this body that weren't inferior were its ability to taste and touch- they were almost on par with his normal form's.
"But still inferior. As are the humans themselves." Ulquiorra reminded himself. The gigai had already dressed itself in the school's required attire, but had done the buttons on the shirt horribly wrong. "How is it possible to mess up buttoning a shirt?" Ulquiorra grumbled, fixing the failed attempt at decency by the mod soul. Picking the soul pill up off the floor, he glowered at it and tossed it from palm to palm, imagining the little soul inside to be getting thrown about. "Learn to button a shirt. Really, it isn't a hard thing to do." Ulquiorra lectured the pill, hoping it could hear him. Grabbing the folders he carried with him- he would never lower himself to wearing a backpack- he turned to leave. Stepping through the door, he almost jumped when the cat woman's voice floated tauntingly out from the kitchen.
"Have fun in school with Orihime -chan today, Ulqui-kun. And Urahara left a shopping list for you pinned to the door." You could easily hear the smirk in her voice.
Ulquiorra wasn't sure what to be more enraged about- the pet name he'd just been called, or the insinuation with Orihime. "Ridiculous. It's not…. I don't think it's even possible to care for a human. The majorities of them are vile, and smell like they haven't bathed in weeks. But… Orihime is neither of those things…." He told himself, untacking the shopping list from the door and leaving the tack on the floor- with any luck, either Urahara or Yoruichi would step on it. As he continued to stew over the purple haired woman's comment, it appeared he'd become rather good at arguing with himself lately.
Existing was the extent of what Ulquiorra did in school. He never took notes yet his grade remained a solid A- for him, school was both easy and tedious. As he stared at the wall, riddled with various marks from pencils and markers and things that looked like they came from something not meant to be used for writing, much less on a wall, he sighed. He was running out of things to connect the dots to. He was sure he'd seen more than half of the animal kingdom in that pockmarked wall, and there weren't many animals left that could be created from the blemishes. He was distracted from trying to impose the image of a giraffe into a certain cluster of specks when a triangle of paper was flicked onto his desk. Not bothering to see who it came from for he was fairly sure of whom already, he unfolded it. In loopy, scrawling writing, the sentence stood out against the lined whiteness of the paper.
"That's the third time you've sighed in the last 3 minutes. What's wrong?"
The question and script clearly belonged to the woman- nobody else in this class would have the courage to try passing him a note. The loopy-ness of it was befitting; the woman herself was imprudent. The unevenness of the print, which traveled off the line in parts, represented her hasty nature- she tended to rush around, and so did her writing. Clicking his pen, bothered by how much the human writing utensil still fascinated him, he wrote his response. Catching the eye of the student closest to him, he wordlessly handed it over. The student had been watching the exchange, and Ulquiorra knew it- as punishment, he'd be made the note passer. Not unexpectedly the teen moved the note right along to Orihime's desk, proving Ulquiorra to be right. How else would the student have known from whence the note came unless he'd been watching? He watched the woman's face redden at his response, before she allowed her curtain of hair to hide her expression as she quickly scrawled a reply.
"He…..I don't believe this. "I wasn't aware you had been counting my sighs."? I can't believe him. But crap, because he's right…." Orihime had been as bored as Ulquiorra, but instead doodled across her blank sheet of notes. An A student as well, she only took notes when she felt she'd need them. Today's lesson wasn't one such circumstance, and as a result she'd been rendered with nothing to do. Orihime studied his writing. It was a lot like himself, she concluded. It was as if a computer had written in place of a person, save for certain letters having sharp flares to them, making the print eerie and old. Stark, written in dark ink, every letter clearly and neatly defined, it made her handwriting look like a five year old's by comparison. Snatching her pen off the corner of her desk, she retaliated to his observation of her observation.
"I wasn't aware passing notes was on your list of "things that aren't so ignoble I can do them and get away with it" list. You'd have never passed notes a few weeks ago. You'd have stared at whoever told you that before calling them trash. :p (you know I'm right)"
When the paper skidded across his desk, this time Ulquiorra was ready for it. With uncommon grace among humans, he caught the paper smoothly before it slid off the opposite side of his desk. Unfolding it, he held back a noncommittal noise- damn. She was right. He hadn't let his apathy slip so much, had he? Hopefully it was only her who'd noticed the changes the discovery of the heart had forced on him. He hadn't asked for these irksome feelings to invade his mind; yet in a sense, it "came with the territory"- he couldn't comprehend the heart without having one himself it seemed.
It took Ulquiorra a moment to recognize the colon and capital P as being a face, and he felt a tad foolish for it. In reality he hadn't been an arrancar for all that long- he'd gone to school as a human, but they didn't have these strange terms and way of writing like this time did. Someone could hand him a sheet of paper and tell him to take notes, but if they stuck him at a computer, he'd be at a loss. "I think I'll toy with her a little more." he thought insidiously, the corner of his lips lifting up into a smirk for an instant. A new source of entertainment found, Ulquiorra lazily wrote his response and passed the paper back. Her facial reaction was identical to her previous one, which he found was strangely to his satisfaction.
""Touché. To be fair, you seem to be the only one to have noticed these differences, am I not correct?" ….Huh. Fine, two can play at this game."
Orihime's response had the desired effect when she saw Ulquiorra's eyes widen a fraction before his face settled back into its inexpressive mask. She'd intended to make Ulquiorra squirm on the inside a little with her reply, and based on the fact that Ulquiorra had reacted at all, her goal had been accomplished. She sat back and enjoyed the display of emotions across the ex Espada's face that only she could discern.
""Hmm…I don't know. I mean, if I can figure it out I'll bet other people can…"
This subtle comment unnerved Ulquiorra. He knew she was trying to poke at his mental walls by agitating him into thinking he was being obvious with his changes, but because he had changed, the mild paranoia stuck. The bewildered communicator took the note that was shoved at him, keeping his hand as far away from Ulquiorra's as it could get. When passed to Orihime though, a bright smile was offered, and his attempt at having their hands brush was clearly intentional. A flash of jealousy ripped through Ulquiorra. That woman was his to protect, and the student was bordering on unsafe limits. Immediately scolding himself for that purely human instinct, and for it also being an overreaction at that, he stopped a growl from slipping out.
He may have reconciled himself with the ability to feel, and allowed emotion to take him along on whatever ride it may offer, bumpy or not, but that didn't mean he couldn't still be sore about the situation. He'd been the Espada of Nothingness. The opposite of nothing now, it was a blow to his pride- the Espada of Nothing shouldn't be able to feel something. Before he'd managed to stew over this for very long, a new notion wormed its way into his mind- why did it matter? What reputation was left for him to uphold? Anyone of stable mind in Las Noches who'd known him was destroyed now, and only Ichigo, the Quincy, and the woman knew what he'd been like. Those who were no longer around couldn't call him out on anything, and the shinigami and Quincy stayed out of Ulquiorra's business for the most part. There was no one left to pretend for.
The neatly folded triangle of paper was unfolded.
"Nevertheless, the fact still remains only you can tell. Why is that?"
Orihime glanced over to see Ulquiorra watching her with a sly expression on his pale face- he did not just go there, did he? He'd sneakily asked her to define their "relationship", as it were, without needing to offer any input on his end. If she were to expect any kind of a response to her concerns, she'd need to give a little in order to get.
"Because after being imprisoned in a tower for a while, I got to know you. How could I not notice? You went from no feelings to actually being bored in class. If the sighs and connect-the-dot pictures on the wall over there aren't any indication, I don't know what is. And you dodged my first question- what's wrong?"
He had skirted her first question and they both new it. Brought to attention the second time, Ulquiorra knew changing the subject would be impossible. In truth, he didn't know himself what the exact problem was. He supposed it was a bunch of little problems, each one collectively nagging at him; the confining gigai, this school, the woman herself. She was an enigma, spurning more questions than answers. Every time he thought he'd figured her out, she'd do something that left him guessing once more. Of course he wasn't going to let her know any of this; he'd make this into a game, entice her into finding out how he'd changed herself. But a somewhat straight answer was needed first, to set her on the right track.
Neatly penning down his answer, he reflected on how he was doing exactly as he had in Las Noches, simply without the tinge of sadism. Little puzzles had piqued his interest even then, which explained his fascination with the woman- here, now, he was enjoying the mental challenge of laying down the web along which she would walk while playing his game. The only difference between his games then and this game now were his weaving it purely for entertainment, for fun, even.
He'd messed with Orihime in Las Noches, experimenting with different ways in which to break her spirit- but those had been in a cruel, uncaring manner. No regard for the feelings he was sure were nonsense, only interested in the result of his experiment; he was like Szayel in a way, reaching only to understand the ultimate answer, regardless of what may happen in the process- the major rift between the two being the setting of their tests. Szayel would twist flesh into the most disturbing of things, while Ulquiorra would subtly warp the mind. For the woman, however, none had proven successful and it had sent him for a loop- even then she'd proven his methods ineffectual, just as she was now.
"I don't know. There are too many problems all at once. How you humans deal with all of this on a daily basis astounds me. And you'd better get the homework written down- by the end of this sentence, the bell should ring."
There. The setting was set. All that was needed was for Orihime to follow along- determined to understand her, this method seemed most likely to work.
True to his prediction, the moment Orihime's head snapped up to look at him Ulquiorra had already stood, the bell ringing the instant he did so. Scribbling the night's homework down on her palm, Orihime rushed out of the classroom. She knew something had been getting under Ulquiorra's skin. Reaching her locker only after being shoved twice and almost backhanded once, she regretfully grabbed her bag. She would have caught up to Ulquiorra and asked what his problems were and demanded he be more specific about it, yet she desperately needed to go shopping- her food just didn't taste the same without red bean paste.
"What am I, his housekeeper?" Ulquiorra complained to himself, appraising the shopping list as he drifted through the aisles of various produce. The money for the supplies had been taped to the back, but it were the supplies themselves that made Ulquiorra want to stuff this list down Urahara's throat.
"Eggs, milk, cheese, chips, lollipops, calamari, ramen, tea packets, onion rings, pudding, muffins, tuna, soda, cake…..candy is on here eight times! I should deliberately not purchase it." Ulquiorra's criticisms of the shopping list were silenced as a familiar laugh echoed from behind a shelf.
"Ulquiorra, is that you?"
Too late to turn tail now. "…..Yes."
"Hahaha, is Urahara having you shop for him?"
"Unfortunately, yes. I'm not even sure this store has calamari. Why does he want that?" Ulquiorra mumbled, sifting through packs of ramen, shaking his head at the sheer amount of sodium a single little package of noodles contained. That was one way to put oneself in an early grave for sure.
"It's probably Yoruichi who wants it." Orihime pointed out, scanning the shelves for the bean paste she'd come here for in the first place. "…..Damn…." Orihime muttered under her breath, spying the one remaining jar of her favorite food on the very top shelf. Standing on her tip toes, she was barely a fingers breadth away from her prize, and flailed a little, as if the exaggerate movement would bring it floating down to her level. Just about to jump to try to knock it down and catch it, a pale hand easily swiped the jar away. Ulquiorra leaned against the opposite shelf, scrutinizing it. He'd changed out of the school uniform and wore a dark green, form fitting shirt under an also form fitting white trench coat. His pants were a pristine white as well, and Orihime felt bad for a moment- he still missed Las Noches, whether he'd admit it or not; this was the closest he could come to his Espada uniform as far as modern, normal clothes were concerned. Huffing, Orihime reached out to take the jar but ended up a mere inch or so away as Ulquiorra dangled it just out of her reach, smirk barely present. It was clear he was enjoying this however.
"Ulquioraaa!" Orihime whined indignantly, using a great deal of effort to hold back her pout- this wasn't fair, and he knew it.
"What is it, woman?" Ulquiorra asked innocently, smirk widening a fraction.
"You know what. Give me my bean paste!" Orihime pleaded indignantly, holding out a hand for the jar. "And I do have a name you know." She added.
"Oh, you mean this?" Ulquiorra questioned, feigning surprise as he tossed the jar up a few feet. Catching it without ever tearing his gaze from Orihime's he placed it in her open palm, delighting in the consternated look on her face. Apparently emotions had a good side too- he'd never be able to enjoy messing with Orihime without them.
"Thank you." Orihime grumbled, emphasizing the statement to impose the sarcasm of it a little further. Tucking the jar of bean paste in next to other jars in her shopping basket, each containing things entirely unidentifiable if not for the labels declaring what abnormal substance resided inside them, Orihime gave a surprised "Oh!" before snapping her fingers and digging around in her pocket for something. "Ah, there it is." She proclaimed, presenting the note from class.
Ulquiorra tried not to cringe upon seeing the note- he knew it would come back to bite him eventually, just not so soon. "What about it?" he deadpanned.
"You never said to eat this."
"I….what?" Ulquiorra had turned to walk down the aisle towards the seafood section, but almost tripped at Orihime's comment. He'd been expecting the big, heavy, and important "So, what's wrong?" question. And instead he gets this? Already his game of understanding her was falling apart.
"You know- once people are done passing a note, the person making the last pass writes "eat this note" and the person who the note ends with has to eat it, so nobody can read it." Orihime answered cheerfully.
"….That…is absolutely foolish. Why, for any reason, would I ingest a dead tree?" Ulquiorra pointed out.
"Well… I don't really know, but the method would work at least, right?" Orihime chattered on, mouth running miles in front of her head as per usual.
"…I suppose." Ulquiorra grudgingly agreed.
Dusk approaching, the checkout counters were empty save for a single drowsy employee who gave the impression of wanting to be anywhere but where he was. An eyebrow was raised at the collection of foods, but no comments were made as he rang up the total. Not even bothering to gasp at the price of all the junk food like Orihime did when the red letters blinked across the register screen, Ulquiorra handed over the pile of money. It wasn't his food, and it wasn't his money, so why should he care? If Hat and Clogs went broke from an inhuman amount of potato chip consumption, it would make no difference to the arrancar- he might even take some satisfaction over watching the shopkeeper go through a junk food withdrawal. Once the mixes of odd items were paid for, Ulquiorra hauled the bags off the counter. "Another worthless aspect of gigais- they're weak." Ulquiorra deprecated, as the false body struggled under the weight of fattening substances.
"Thank you! Have a good evening, sir!" Orihime trilled, and the cashier brightened a bit and waved goodbye.
"…Why do you do that?" Ulquiorra questioned Orihime as she exited the store, narrowly missing a bang into the sliding glass. She didn't appear to have even noticed her near run-in with the door however, and her smile didn't falter as she immediately replied "Why? It's polite for one, and two, he seemed a little sad. Hopefully that made his night better, if only for a while."
"But…you don't even know that person." Ulquiorra said, confused. Caring about the sadness of a complete stranger? Why waste the energy?
Orihime stopped then, as they reached the road that would split them and send them on different paths to their respective home and residence. Ulquiorra's gaze was unflinching as he watched her puff out a breath of air in exasperation, and turn fully towards him.
"Does it matter?" she spoke earnestly "What if you had been just another stranger?"
"But I wasn't." Ulquiorra pointed out the obvious, feeling a glimmer of triumph. The woman couldn't possibly have a rebuttal to this.
But of course she did, and of course Ulquiorra was once more left with more questions than he'd started with. "And how many other people would have saved someone who'd been…less than polite to them?"
Ulquiorra's mouth opened in the beginnings of a denial, but no words came out. No matter what angle he analyzed the problem from, it always ended with Orihime's actions to save him not making any sort of sense. He had been "less than polite" as she nicely phrased it, and he had been undeserving of any second chance. Yet he'd been given one.
"Ulquiorra… You pretend to hate this place, and pretend to not care, but I know you do. I doubt anyone else knows" here she waved the note in front of his face, his eyes following it like a taunted cat's for a moment before relocking gazes with her "but I do. I said goodnight to that stranger because I'd want the same done for me, and I saved this rude person" he felt Orihime poke him obstinately in the chest "because I'd never wish death on anyone who had a second chance, regardless of whether they deserved it."
"I don't…understand how you can do those things for people. What have they ever done for you? Nothing." Ulquiorra caught her wrist before she moved it away, and tried to ignore the warmth and softness of the skin.
"Because… uh…" the redness was back, and the woman's speech had become incoherent, but she pressed on after regaining control. "Because it's the right thing to do. Did you have to gently move that girl out of your way and yell at the ones who'd pushed her? No. But you did. And once you understand why you did that" Orihime gingerly removed her hand from the Espada's light grip "You'll have made the most of my saving you. Goodnight. I'll see you in school."
Ulquiorra stared after her as she walked away, his hand still partly in the air. She had seen that? At the time, he'd thought nothing of moving the flustered student aside- maybe this was the point she was trying to make; kindness was an unconscious act. A breath escaped him he wasn't aware he'd been holding, and he shifted the bag of food to his other hand, departing to the Urahara shop.
Ulquiorra's mind was strangely quiet as he walked to the shop, digesting all that had been told to him, for once not arguing. The doors to the silent shop opened with a hushed sliding noise, and Ulquiorra dumped the bags unceremoniously onto the table. He may have been made to go shopping, but was never told to put the junk food away. It would all end up in the same place anyways. Downing the soul pill, he separated from the gigai with relief. The sounds and smells intensified, and his eyes easily picked out the glare of faint light off the molten gold of the cat woman's eyes.
"Welcome back, Ulquiorra-kun. You did get my calamari, right?" The teasing was evident in Yoruichi's voice- he didn't need to see her to know what her expression was at the moment. The ruffling of clothes was quickly cut off as a sleek black cat pounced on the package of calamari on the table, purring while kneading it contentedly.
"Don't blame me if your squid goes bad from you poking holes in the seal. And don't call me that, cat." Ulquiorra warned, turning to leave for his room, which now smelled much more pleasant.
"And how was your time with Orihime-chan?" Ulquiorra stopped short at the question, posed casually, but with a hint of amusement running through it. "Do you feel enlightened at all, by her logic? I'm sure you're simply confounded, in fact."
"And if I am?" He returned dully.
"Well, she'll get you to see the light eventually. But for goodness sakes, don't be such a stick in the mud." The deep, even voice purred knowingly.
"I beg your pardon?" Ulquiorra glanced over his shoulder in time to see the flash of white teeth from a feline grin being smothered.
"Hm. I'll have to help you along. Try imagining this- Orihime without a shirt!" Yoruichi no longer bothered to conceal her smirk, now outright laughing in an odd, hissing sort of way.
"And why, cat, would I want to think of that?" Ulquiorra defended instantly, only causing the cat to laugh even louder.
"Because. Your face now matches hers." With this, the sound of hissing laughter dissipated as Yoruichi slunk out of the room.
"…Ridiculous." Ulquiorra swept down the hall, white trench coat whispering against the floor as he stalked to the mirror in his room. This too had come at a joke, Yoruichi commenting that "the more often he saw his gloomy face, the more sick of it he'd become- he'd have to make some sort of an expression then!" Ulquiorra glared at the mirror, daring it to show him something he didn't want to see. Instead, deep green eyes widened at the now retreating red across his face, then narrowed with thoughts of vengeance on the cat woman. The red across Orihime's face when Ulquiorra got just a little too close, it made sense now. An insistent tapping feeling in his head brought Ulquiorra back to reality, only to hear Murciélago's badly hidden snickers.
"Well, master? What do you feel? You promised both me and yourself you'd go along with these emotions. (as if you had a choice)" the ending to this was mumbled quickly, and Ulquiorra shoved Murciélago out of his head for a moment, the blade only making a small sound of protest before quieting. What did he feel? Leaning against his bed, Ulquiorra crossed his arms and drummed his fingers pensively. Snippets of his old life fluttered back- incomplete, like a charred reel of film, but with the general intent behind them still legible. The feelings of anger, of sadness, of fear, of happiness. But there was one missing; love was missing. Running a hand through his hair, feeling the bone skull with a comfortable sense of familiarity, Ulquiorra's eyes wandered to his desk where a crisp white piece of stationary winked up at him.
"Go and get her, already. Find love- nobody will blame you for it."
Instead of a name, a pawprint marked the identity of the writer. Ulquiorra angrily snatched up the paper and stuffed it in a random drawer. Why could this purple haired woman never leave him alone? But the words drove themselves deeper into his brain, and before Ulquiorra could stop it, the seed had been planted. "Find love. Go get her." Five words. An incredibly short command but one that, as he fell back on his bed with an almost nonexistent smile, Ulquiorra would follow.
Hm, lets see. Review please, because that makes me happy, and if you know, pleasepleaseplease tell me how to make spaces between the paragraphs! ;U;