Grimmjow stared up at the pale shinigami in shock when he suddenly let go of Grimmjow. Ulquiorra's hand was clenching and unclenching against his forehead, and his eyes were screwed shut as he staggered backwards. With his hand and raven hair covering his face, Grimmjow could hardly make out his expression.

"Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow said uncertainly.

Hesitantly, Grimmjow reached out to touch the pale shinigami, but then he saw Ulquiorra glare at him through the gaps between his fingers. A glare full of burning hatred and accusation that it made the Sexta take a step back.

"Arrancar..." Ulquiorra hissed, drawing out his zanpaktou.

Grimmjow stopped, hand lifted up in midair. He was torn. What was he supposed to do?

Should he, or rather, was he willing to fight Ulquiorra?

Ulquiorra was in a great hall, the walls high and endless and grey, with a number of people sitting on large, purple rocks. Above sat a brown haired man on what looked like a throne. The man was dressed in white, like everyone in the hall, and though Ulquiorra was unable to make out his face, the man held an authoritative air about him by the way he held himself.

"You're soft!" a voice resounded throughout the great hall. It seemed that the person was directing that at Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra turned his head to see who it was that insulted him, and saw a teal haired arrancar, whose face, like everyone else in the vision, was obscured by shadows. The man was sitting on a large, purple rock, with some of his subordinates behind him, observing the conversation that was about to take place. "If it had been me, I would have killed the both of them at the first strike!" the man openly mocked Ulquiorra.

Ignoring the slight, dull ache that had begun to throb in his temple moments ago, Ulquiorra screwed his eyes close, willing the images to go away. Even though a barrage of questions filled his mind, Ulquiorra shut them all out. Now was not the time to be pondering over the significance of the vision, if it had any at all, that he just had. There was still the enemy to think of.

Tightening his grip on his zanpaktou, Ulquiorra snapped his eyes open.

But the arrancar was gone.

"Fuck, that was close," Grimmjow panted, his heard racing as he sonidoed past the many shabby houses in Rukongai.

He was quickly putting distance between him and the pale shinigami, not even bothering to stop. He was not foolish enough to try to confront Ulquiorra when Ulquiorra already had his zanpaktou drawn out. Looking over his shoulder, he was relieved to see that no one was following him. But then again, it was only a matter of time before Ulquiorra snapped out of whatever it was that had gotten him distracted and begin to pursue him.

Focusing on the path ahead and with the wind whipping at his face, Grimmjow decided to pick up speed till he came to a place where he regarded as safe, and then opened a Garganta there before stepping through.

Ulquiorra slammed his fist against the tree trunk so hard that skin broke and his hand began to bleed. Not that he particularly cared. How could he have been so careless? He had practically let the enemy enter Soul Society while he was around. On top of that, he had let the damned thing slip through his fingers yet again. To add insult to injury, it was the same arrancar that he had encountered in Karakura Town with Kurosaki. He was now convinced that the arrancar was a spy. Not only did he know about Ulquiorra, but Ulquiorra also found him right here in Seireitei. And this was the first time that an arrancar had ever dared to enter Soul Society.

This must mean something. Did this mean the battle was coming near? Were they planning an attack on Soul Society...?

He knew that he should not have attended that party. What was he thinking? They were in the middle of a war. He should not have let his guard down, especially since he was one of the captains of the 13 Protection Teams.

But even when Ulquiorra searched and scanned the area in vain for any signs of the teal haired arrancar, it was much too late. The arrancar was gone.

Ichimaru Gin gazed into the mirror, deep in thought, his silver hair obscuring one of his eyes slightly. He was now in the bathroom, and was only clad in a white robe, the robe half opened to reveal his chest. His forehead creased slightly as he continued to ponder on the event that had taken place in the surveillance room not too long ago.

"Kyaaaa! Don't do that, Grimmy-chan!" Ichimaru scolded as he clutched at his chest, his smile falling a bit. Just a bit. "You nearly made me fall down!" He got up, dusting himself. "Now, why are you here?"

"I… I want to know what happens to arrancars when they die," Grimmjow breathed, panting a little. To be honest, he was exhausted what with everything that had happened, but this was important. It was crucial for him to know. He could not give in to exhaustion just yet. "Where do they go?"

The fox faced man tilted his head, his smile widening. "Now why would you want to know something like that, Grimmy-chan?" The Sexta certainly was a very curious individual to be suddenly interested in such matters. Noticing how bloodied and run down the teal haired arrancar looked, Ichimaru added, "And do you know that you look like shit?"

"Please," Grimmjow said softly. "Can you please tell me, Ichimaru-sama?"

He was not smiling like he usually was. Instead, a rather serious expression had taken place. Grimmjow was acting strangely when he had suddenly come into the surveillance room and began questioning him. That in itself was strange since Grimmjow, like most of the arrancars, usually avoided his presence. And of all things that the Sexta could have asked about, he had chosen to ask about what happens to hollows when they die.

Ichimaru splayed his fingers at the edges of the sink, his head hung low.

Although he did not really show it at the time, he could not help, but get a bad feeling over this. What was Grimmjow up to? The only reason that he could think of for Grimmjow's sudden interest in the afterlife of hollows was that it probably had to do with Ulquiorra Cifer, the former Cuarto Espada. It certainly was no secret amongst the residents of Las Noches that those two were an item. It was very obvious the way the two cared for, talked to and looked at each other.

And if Ichimaru was honest, he knew that those two would end up together one way or the other. All of the signs were there. All they needed was a little push to bring them together. And that little push came in the form of Ichigo Kurosaki, who had injured the Sexta, making Ulquiorra be the one to spend his days taking care of the injured man.

And after Ulquiorra's death, Grimmjow simply was not the same. He was quiet and moody, alienating himself from the rest of his comrades. He would also disappear for short intervals of time to the human world, doing what Gin assumed was visiting the places that Grimmjow and Ulquiorra used to frequent.

It would be no surprise if Grimmjow had asked him regarding the afterlife for the hope that maybe, maybe Ulquiorra was still alive and well somewhere. He was pretty certain about this fact, though. Because when he had asked Grimmjow whether this had anything to do with Ulquiorra, the look on his face gave him away. But even then, Ichimaru had not made any comment on Grimmjow's dishonesty, and just smiled, saying that Grimmjow was a "good kitty cat".

This had to do with Ulquiorra, but the question was, should he be worried?

The chances of Grimmjow meeting Ulquiorra again was pretty low what with the number of souls residing in Soul Society. And Ulquiorra was probably an ordinary soul now, staying at home, with absolutely no memory of his past, and with the only thing to worry about was his next meal. Gin was quite sure that Ulquiorra had died by a shinigami's zanpaktou since the Cuarto died fighting Ichigo Kurosaki. But what if Grimmjow met Ulquiorra? What would happen? What would Grimmjow do...?

"Ay, this could get complicated," Ichimaru said under his breath. "Love is hard, Grimmy-chan."

Well, for now, he was going to keep his worries under lock and key. He did not really know what was Grimmjow's real intention. For all he knew, Grimmjow was just curious. Better to leave this matter aside till he was certain that something was going on.

"Gin...?" called a voice from outside the bathroom.

Ichimaru straightened up. "Yeah?"

"What are you doing there? It's getting late." The voice was gentle, but at the same time commanding. Ichimaru knew by that tone of voice that the owner wanted him to come out.

"Coming!" Ichimaru said cheerily, his serious demeanour immediately shed and forgotten. He walked out of the bathroom and made his way to the bed, where a brown haired male waited for him, his usual smile back on his lips. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Sosuke. I was just thinking."

Aizen raised an eyebrow. "About?"

"Nothing important," Gin purred as he slipped under the bed covers and laid his head on his lover's chest. Aizen was warm, and laying here in bed reminded Gin of how sleepy he actually was. Aizen immediately wrapped his arm around the pale man's waist, allowing the younger to make himself comfortable. As soon as he did that, though, Ichimaru suddenly felt the presence of another reiatsu appear somewhere in Las Noches, and Aizen felt it too.

The brown haired man tilted his head. "It seems that our Sexta has finally returned from another one of his outings," Aizen mused.

"Mmhmm," Ichimaru agreed sleepily.

A gentle hand came and brushed silver hair out of Ichimaru's eyes in an almost affectionate manner. "While I do not mind him going out, he should stop. I don't want to lose another Espada because of his foolishness," Aizen said, removing his hand from Ichimaru's hair to tuck his fingers under Gin's chin, making him look up into his eyes. "Please talk to him, Gin. Maybe it'll help bring some sense back into his mind."

Ichimaru nearly wanted to whine and say no because he was tired, but the look in Sosuke Aizen's eyes told him it was better to obey. It was subtle, but Gin caught the small flicker of annoyance that flashed through brown eyes at his hesitation to obey.

"Of course," Ichimaru said, the smile on his lips widening.

"Good." Aizen smiled gently, and pressed his lips against the silver haired man's forehead as Ichimaru made to get out of bed. "Don't take too long now."

"Naa... I won't," Gin reassured him.

Inside his room, Grimmjow was lying in bed, his arm covering his eyes. Damn it. He knew he should have gone in there with a plan. Well, he did have a plan, just that he did not expect Ulquiorra to find him and catch him by surprise, with his zanpaktou drawn out so that they would clash swords again. True, he could have just fought Ulquiorra, but the last time he did that, not only was he unable to raise his zanpaktou against Ulquiorra, but he was unable to make Ulquiorra listen.

This was harder than he thought.

Grimmjow grunted as he sat up and settled himself at the edge of the bed, staring hard at the floor.

What he needed to do was to surprise Ulquiorra and get him into a position where he would be forced to listen. Grimmjow rubbed his temple. Good luck with doing that, because even when Ulquiorra was an arrancar, doing something like that was near impossible. Ulquiorra was alert, always took note of his surroundings and always on his toes. He knew all of Grimmjow's habits and was always able to predict what Grimmjow was going to do next.

But then again, this Ulquiorra did not. This Ulquiorra did not know just how far Grimmjow's intelligence stretched. In fact, this Ulquiorra knew nothing about him yet. This was one advantage that Grimmjow had. Once Grimmjow was able to pique Ulquiorra's curiosity on his past life, he knew that Ulquiorra would try to find out as much as possible, which would hopefully help in unlocking his memories. But how was Grimmjow going to do that?

And just now, just now Grimmjow was just about to break into Seireitei until Ulquiorra arrived. It was only pure luck that Ulquiorra had somehow gotten distracted that Grimmjow managed to escape.

He needed to get into Seireitei and find out where Ulquiorra lived. Now that was going to be a bit difficult, unless he went around asking with a disguise on, but even then, were the people there willing to part with such information? However, getting the information on the location of Ulquiorra's home should be nothing compared to trying to find something to say that would make Ulquiorra sit still long enough to listen. He could not simply say, "Hey, you were an arrancar in your past life and you worked for Aizen as the Cuarto Espada. And oh, we were also lovers" to Ulquiorra. That would only result in Ulquiorra nicking his head off for good. Who was going to believe that bullshit, even if it was true? Certainly not Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra would want proof.

Oh, this part of his mission was going to be dandy.

Grimmjow could already tell that he was going to have multiple death experiences until this was over.

A knock on his door.

"Grimmy-chan~! Are you in there?"

Grimmjow groaned inwardly.

"No, I'm not."

A pause. Then, "Oh, Grimmy-chan, you're such a kidder! It's me, Ichimaru. Would you open up, please? I've got something to tell you."

"... No."

"Come on. Don't be like that, kitty cat. It's a message from Aizen-sama."

Grimmjow groaned, knowing when he was defeated, though hearing that Ichimaru had a message to deliver to him from Aizen made Grimmjow sit up, curiosity gnawing at the back of his mind. It has been a long time since Aizen had chosen to deliver a personal message to him. Normally, meetings would have been sufficient to deliver messages or orders to subordinates. He strode over to the door and pulled it open, revealing a tousle haired Ichimaru Gin wearing an awfully short white robe that was half open at the chest. The robe was so short that it-

...

Grimmjow was not too sure what to think about that. So instead, he said gruffly, "What does he want?"

Ichimaru placed a hand over his heart, pretending to look hurt. "You can be so cruel sometimes."

Grimmjow had to try very hard to resist the temptation to smack the silver haired shinigami, knowing that he would only get into trouble with Aizen if he did that. Aizen was quite fond of Ichimaru and placed him in high regard above all of his subordinates. So instead, Grimmjow gritted his teeth and waited for the message that Aizen wished Ichimaru to relay to him.

Seeing that Grimmjow was waiting for him to speak, Ichimaru removed his hand from his chest and tilted his head in an almost child-like manner. "I just wanted to let you know that Aizen-sama is worried that you would make trouble by going out too much."

So?

"And your point is?"

The smile on Ichimaru's lips widened. "As of today, Aizen-sama is restricting your movements."

Grimmjow's heart stopped. Wait. What? Grimmjow tightened his grip on the doorknob, as though that would help him from doing anything stupid.

His throat tight, and his lips dry, Grimmjow licked his lips and tried to speak as calmly as possible though in his mind, he was screaming and in want of seeing his superiors hurt. "Why?"

"Ah?" Confused.

Grimmjow tried again. "Why is he restricting my movements now when he didn't give a rat's ass about it in the past?" Grimmjow demanded.

Understanding dawned upon the silver haired shinigami. "Well, I'm not really sure about that, Grimmy-chan." He placed a finger on his chin, looking thoughtful. "Maybe it's because he's about to make his move and he would like his army to be intact by then? Or it could be something else."

Grimmjow's brain kick started upon those words.

Something else...?

The man twisted in his grasp and was soon onto Grimmjow, pushing the teal haired arrancar roughly to the ground, his zanpaktou unsheathed in one swift action. Man, the guy is fast, Grimmjow thought dizzily. He placed his zanpaktou against Grimmjow's throat, the expression on his face one of boredom. "Trash. Worthless trash," the shinigami said in a disgusted voice.

Trash…? Only one person he knew ever said that, and that person was... that person was not around anymore. Grimmjow tried not to think too much about it though. It was probably a coincidence. "Fuck you," the teal haired arrancar sneered. Well, if he was about to die, he might as well die fighting rather than begging for his life. "And I am not worthless trash."

"Hmm." The man regarded Grimmjow with slight annoyance, the look in his eyes condescending. "Do you have any last words, arrancar?" he said in monotone. The blade of the shinigami's zanpaktou was dangerously sharp.

That voice...

Why did that voice sound so familiar?

The only other person who had a voice like that was dead.

So many thoughts were going through Grimmjow's mind, making him dizzy but all of those thoughts came to a full stop when the raven haired shinigami leaned back from his position on top of Grimmjow. Because at the very moment that the man had leaned back, the light from the street light had shone upon his face, revealing his face to Grimmjow.

Grimmjow clenched his fists, his breathing hard. Questions upon questions exploded in his mind. Was it possible that Aizen suspected him? Or that he knew of how Grimmjow had been trying to contact Ulquiorra? And how Grimmjow had broken into Soul Society in order to do that, even though Ichimaru Gin had specifically advised him not to do that? As all of these questions swirled in Grimmjow's mind, Ichimaru studied the conflict that showed so clearly on the Sexta's face. Grimmjow swallowed the lump in his throat, but before he could question Gin any further, the silver haired shinigami turned on his heel and was already giving Grimmjow a small wave over his shoulder.

"You take care now, Grimmy-chan," Ichimaru said cheerily. "Make sure you don't get into any trouble or Aizen-sama won't be happy with you."

The teal haired arrancar could only stare in silence as he watched Ichimaru walk down the hall, humming to himself. Grimmjow closed the door, now in need to be alone.

Down the hall, Starrk was on his way to his room when he bumped into Ichimaru Gin.

"Oh, heya, Starrky-chan!" Ichimaru greeted, clapping a hand on a confused Starrk's shoulder. "Do me a favour, will ya? Keep an eye on Grimmy-chan for me."

Starrk blinked, trying to keep his gaze on Ichimaru's face, and not on the amount of leg that Ichimaru was exposing by wearing such a short robe. "Uhh... okay?" What else was he supposed to say?

Gin grinned happily. "Good wolfy."

And Gin continued on his way, leaving a confused and perplexed Starrk in his wake. What the hell was that about? After coming back to his senses, Starrk shook his head and walked in the direction his room was located. He had never been able to understand Ichimaru Gin. Perhaps his superior had finally decided that it was about time for Grimmjow to let go. Starrk sighed. He could not say that he did not agree to that.

All he wanted was to sleep, not to converse to superiors happily prancing around the hall half naked.

Grimmjow kicked at his chair. He was furious. Trust Aizen to come up with something like that. The teal haired arrancar tossed a look at the view outside of his window, looking up at the night sky. A smile tugged at the edge of his lips, and he scoffed at the thought of Aizen trying to control him. He never recognized the bastard as his master anyway, so why should he start now? What was the bastard going to do, kill him, when he was short on Espadas? Grimmjow had already made up his mind, and there was no way that something like a threat from Aizen would stop him.

He was going to break into Seireitei again. And he was going to make Ulquiorra listen to him. And he was going to succeed.

After all, he has disobeyed Aizen before. What was another order to him?

"Turning in so soon, Captain?" Momo Hinamori asked timidly, slightly startled to see Ulquiorra walk up the path towards his house, his zanpaktou already sheathed. "Captain?" she said once more when he did not answer her. Upon seeing the scowl on Ulquiorra's face, the brown haired girl quickly stepped aside as Ulquiorra swept past. Ulquiorra did not even spare her a glance.

The raven haired man kept his pace, quickly passing houses, trees and plants, his feet stepping on some leaves and making some crunching sounds, until he reached his house, and wrenched the door open. He knew that he was rude and that Momo was merely being friendly, but he was not in the mood right now. Too many things, too many questions were swirling in his mind, leaving space for nothing else. Ulquiorra would have to apologise to Momo Hinamori tomorrow, but right now, he needed some peace of mind.

Leaning his zanpaktou against the side of his desk, Ulquiorra pulled out the chair and sat on it, placing his head in his hands. His room was dark, allowing only a ray of weak light from the moon to shine through the gap between the curtains. The perfect setting for Ulquiorra to think. Closing his eyes, Ulquiorra tried to relax. There was still a slight, dull pain in his temple from before, but it was fading.

Ulquiorra let out a shuddering breath.

He had failed once again.

This time, there was no Kurosaki to pull him back. This time, it truly was his own fault for letting the enemy escape. Ulquiorra could practically feel shame course through his body and burn his soul at the thought. What kind of shinigami, what kind of captain was he if he could not even handle an arrancar of lesser power than him? Ulquiorra felt like disappearing when he went directly to Captain Yamamoto's office to report to him after the incident, his head slightly lowered as he told Captain Yamamoto what had happened, excluding the part where he was bestowed with two visions, his cheeks burning with shame. He was not even captain for a week and he had already failed at something, at something that could possibly be big since an arrancar had never dared enter Soul Society before this.

Though Captain Yamamoto did not criticise him for being unable to fulfil his duty as shinigami, Ulquiorra still felt inadequate, but he tried to carry himself with as much pride as he could without coming off as arrogant when he gave out his report. What made it worse was that he could feel distrust radiating from his superior as he listened to every word of Ulquiorra's report, judging the report, judging him. So Ulquiorra finished up his report by stating that he would not let this happen again. He wanted to show that he was not going to give up that easily, and that he was trustworthy.

As far as Ulquiorra was concerned, this was his problem, and it was his job to complete it by eliminating that arrancar should he ever come across it again. As soon as Ulquiorra took his leave from Captain Yamamoto's office, he could feel his superior's stare boring into the back of his head, the gaze filled with suspicion.

And somehow, a part of him felt that he should not have made that report to Captain Yamamoto.

He told himself that he was simply ashamed of his failure, and that admitting such a failure only showed weakness, but the truth was, that part of him did not want to reveal anything about the arrancar to Captain Yamamoto, saying that it was not a wise choice. Now that he had seen the arrancar for a second time, the fact that the arrancar was so familiar to him refused to leave his mind.

And what about those visions that he just had? Ulquiorra could not ignore them, especially when they felt so real, yet... far away. Like a story, dare he say it, from a distant past. Could these two, the arrancar and the visions, possibly have a connection? Or was it nothing? But even with these things revolving in his mind along with the part of him that wanted the arrancar to remain a secret, Ulquiorra shoved them to the back of his mind and carried out his report anyways.

He was not about to forget his duty as a shinigami over something like having two visions, visions that were not solid proof of anything, and were just that. Visions. Most probably fabrications of the mind.

Ulquiorra lifted his head from his hands, and stared at the wall, his mind in a mess, and his body simply screaming for rest, which he simply refused to give in to. The pale shinigami looked down at his wrist, where the arrancar had touched him. His eyelids heavy, he realised absently that his wrist felt pleasantly warm and slightly tingly from where their skin had contact. Finally, after many minutes ticked past, Ulquiorra's eyes grew heavy and slipped close, giving into some much needed rest. The raven haired man fell into a fitful sleep with his head laid upon his arms.

Ulquiorra was dressed in white again. And he was looking for someone. Where was that blue haired arrancar? It was time to go back. Emerald eyes scanned the vast blue sky and the town below as well until finally, they landed on an all-too-familiar figure. The trash was bloodied and injured, and had his hand on the hilt of his zanpaktou, his intention clear. There was no way he was going to win that battle, especially with just one arm. He was at a great disadvantage.

Exhaling softly through his nostrils, Ulquiorra made his way to the teal haired man's side in a flash without so much as an effort on his part, his hand reaching out and touching the man's hand lightly, stopping his movement.

The man stiffened, and as Ulquiorra stared down at the back of the man's head, he heard him growl, "Ulquiorra..."

DIOR CRYSTAL: I'm not sure how I did on this, but I hope it's fine. I just completed my Foundation course two weeks ago so I'm off hiatus till July, which is when I'll be doing my Degree. So I'll be updating more frequently now :P Anyways, hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Sorry it's not much, but it's supposed to be like this D: Reviews are appreciated.