A/N: Aaah! I apologize to those who alerted this, I've been busy lately. Reviews will help the story update faster… :P

And as a warning, even though there is less swearing in this chapter seeing this is Ulqui's perspective, there's some darker themes and implications.

Part 4: Threads

I didn't let myself sigh. It was inevitable that this would happen. Undoubtedly, Aizen had known this insubordination would occur, yet with every gilded syllable, warning reverberated through our bones.

"Welcome back, Grimmjow." Magnanimous, his greeting echoed from the throne hall to the ends of the fortress. The decibel was profoundly high from where I stood, that is, one floor above the area itself. I wondered why I was here.

I had obviously made the right decision to protect myself. It wasn't sensible to lose myself in someone as volatile as he was. Except…

The voice of Tousen flared, hostile, and I heard a defiant, derisive reply. For Aizen-sama. Of course not. He trampled on our master's name as often as he could. He was incredibly arrogant, but it was not the tone defensive pride. The voice that snapped back at the ex-shingami's was wild, challenging, as if saying -

What else can you take from me?

I don't know why I knew how he felt. It disturbed me. The sound of unspoken words forcing through the synapse of my mind; I mentally reeled. My thoughts were cut short when I felt the staggering contrast between both increase and decrease in reiatsu, the splattering noise of blood.

His scream startled me, and I flinched a fraction of an inch. I heard a kidou spell, but the completely alien cry of disbelief, pain still jarred me. That was not a normal reaction. I had seen him pummeled and beaten, but never without that manic grin upon his face, never with this sound, this absolutely helpless utterance.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit!" The normalcy of his swearing calmed me, reassured me that his colorfully rude exterior remained. Then I realized what I was thinking. I berated myself - What are you thinking? You should be observing to note the demotion of his rank, to serve Aizen-sama, not to check his health, or…

…if the punishment would end in his death.

This had to stop, at least, I could not lose composure here. I paced my steps, walking until I had reached the door that I knew led to my room. Having no Fracción, I had no worries of anyone bothering me, my chamber was isolated.

I reached for the handle, but halfway through the movement I already knew I would never open that door. The same pressure that had filled Las Noches was now directed in a smaller portion, his own personal trumpet fanfare. "Ulquiorra."

Turning, I was met with Aizen's pleasant but cold smile. "Aizen-sama." I addressed him out of habit.

I didn't break eye contact as he wondered if I would by the intensity yet amusement of his gaze. "You know of what happened to Grimmjow?" His words were light, falsely inquisitive.

"Yes."

His smile widened microscopically.

"Come. There are things we must do." With a fluid pivot, the man walked further down the hallway before stopping at an undecorated section of wall. A doorway melded into the stone, and a door swung open as Aizen entered. I followed, and by the time I had reached the entrance a white couch and a red rug embellished with gold borders had become the dwelling's furniture.

He was facing the last wall, and a window with an rounded oval top had formed, three rods running down the center. "You shall go back to the Human World soon." There were no need for replies, I knew.

"While they are fighting, you will persuade the human girl Orihime to come here. You shall make it seem as if she betrayed Soul Society of her own will. Kisuke should know I'm lying, but Yamamoto soutaichou will forbid her rescue. In issuing something forbidden, of course the substitute shinigami will want to save her, knowing none of the captains will. What do you think?"

"The plan is flawless." It had to be. There were never mistakes in Aizen's games.

"Good. I'm glad you think so. This will be her room." He looked back at me indulgently. "Make sure she won't escape."

There was a subtle emphasis in his wording. Will not had a uniquely perverse meaning from Can not in this situation. I blinked. I had to erase her desires to leave.

"Ulquiorra." My name, again. The name he gave me. Aizen began to walk, with a suspension so purposefully tangible I resisted looking away.

He halted, sixty-five centimeters from where I stood. "Lately, I think your resolve is wavering. I think you've divested a part of yourself to Grimmjow. If you continue, your loyalty to me wanes.

"If you continue, you will regain your memories."

I said nothing. It was true. The flashes, the interpretative telepathy… but … Was it so wrong this way? Or would I break with letting him have his share of my thoughts? Could I hang onto these threads I said I severed, from my failed attempts at "starting over?"

Aizen still wore his ever-present façade of kindness, and then was but a hairsbreadth away. His gaze flicked to my hollow-hole, where his ring finger barely rested on the faintest of the last burn mark. "I see you have a memento from someone."

I didn't know where to look. He must've known, nothing went on in the castle without his knowledge. A moment of weakness; I wanted to ask why my punishment started now of all times. The digit slipped, and then pointed straight into the hole.

My surroundings became distortedly blurred, and immediately fear returned to me. Instantly I began to shake, the chokingly strong emotion hissing at my nerves and sending me into a cold sweat. I could hardly think sensibly, hanging onto the conscious part of my brain that wasn't short-circuiting to instinct. "Frightened already?" Far away, I heard his voice.

Another feeling slammed me - confusion. Thoughts swirled and were pulled and ebbed by sleepy impulses, guesses, but the muddled anxiety that claimed me would not disperse; I didn't know if I was physically flailing to push the sensation away, the images were coming, no -

"You should see yourself, Ulquiorra." Again, his laugh, where was he? Everything was wrapped around, looping knots and I could not make out one iota of what was going on, where I was, anything.

Just as quickly, a cool wave of relief washed over me, and I was on a high that pushed up and out because there was nothing left to do but rise, and I could not see I was so blissful, the pictures whitened with giddiness. An ecstasy that suddenly seared as a red-hot, ice-cold spear split, barbed spikes driving into me and I was pieces. Broken pieces that drowned in my blood, and my blindness became a burning pain that gagged those apprehensive knots into nooses and chokeholds. Something had been ripped from me, something precious, something dear -

The colors, the fragments almost came in their puzzle pieces solved, and I could've been vomiting I was so ill until it all sucked back from my mind. Clarity sang from my pores, I knew the ordeal had been a hallucination, but also a muted collage of prior incidents. I could control myself again. Think logically again.

"I spared you the details in the fabric." Absently, he inspected a fingernail. I had stilled my tremors, clenching the cloth in my pockets.

He was right, I hadn't seen faces or recalled any particular events. I would have shuddered to think of the results if I had. He had just loaned me the pure emotions of my soul. I was foolish to have wanted one. Had I been so childish as to forget what having one meant?

Then,

"This girl is not so different. Weave her a nightmare, sing her a lullaby. Do what you must." He gently pressed me against the door, where I realized I had stumbled back towards during the illusion. "Prove to me you have enough control to do so. To protect something now, without your emotions weighing you down."

I didn't meet his gaze when he brushed by the singe mark tauntingly before unzipping my jacket.

Maybe he had made this life for me, but I had to surrender.

As it went on, I ignored the pain. I didn't even need to analyze it. I blocked away everything, with this blissful calm. That is what Aizen gave me. He would've protested at such a trade-off, he would've never let anything force him so deeply in debt. Not at this price, he would've said.

I couldn't imagine living like he did, fierce and fearless and free, uninhibited of the past. He would always be stronger than me. There was a particularly forceful thrust and I dimly noted the wall cracking behind me. My bones crackled along. No matter. The wall would be fixed. Perhaps I would, as well. I stared over his shoulder, into the mostly bare room.

I noticed the window drew a small box of light, enough for one to sit in. For someone to contemplate in. It was like Aizen to think up of a little thing like that. She could look up into the sky, where I noticed the scythe-curved non-sphere was centered in between the poles.

The crescent moon was too, imprisoned, within the bars from a perspective. That made two.