"Grimmjow Jaeggerjaques, the Sexta Espada has awaken, my lord." Ulquiorra announced with a bow. Aizen smiled softly and nodded a sign for Ulquiorra to continue. "There was a burst of unusual spiritual energy as I went to go and check his status, upon arrival I sensed it fluxuate and felt the dim reiatsu of the Octavo Espada, Szayel Aporro Grantz." Ulquiorra continued. He paused, trying to word his observations.
"And what else happened, Ulquiorra?" Aizen asked out, bemused.
"Upon arrival at the Sexta's quarters, The entire room was engulfed in visible spiritual pressure, blue in this case." Ulquiorra continued. "The Octavo Espada was collapsed against The wall, unconscious and Grimmjow Jaeggerjaques was awake." Ulquiorra closed his eyes and looked up, for he first time since he had entered the main hall.
"So what was his decision?" Aizen asked, as If the answer was not clear yet.
"He chose strength." Ulquiorra said, failing to hide the spite in his voice. Aizen's smile seemed to grow larger. "That is all of my report, please excuse me, Lord Aizen." Ulquiorra bowed before turning on his heel.
"Ah, Ulquiorra, one last thing. Please make sure that no one disturbs the Sexta--if his powers have indeed grown then some of the other Espada may be tempted to fight with him." Ulquiorra turned, face stoic and impassive.
"Yes, my Lord"
…
Grimmjow tried to wash off everything that seemed to be sticking unpleasantly to his body. There was sweat, so much dirt, and something more of an emotional dirt, maybe shame or anger. He threw himself into the spray of the shower, rubbing at his stomach and arms and every other part of his body that seemed to be dirty.
He just couldn't wash away the pain--the pain, anger and sadness.
"Why did I choose this?" Grimmjow asked himself. He was, is, an idiot. If things didn't work out before how are things going to change now? "Why am I such an idiot…?"
"Speaking to yourself." A cold voice said from outside of the shower. "What a true imbecile." The Espada said. Grimmjow froze. "Hurry up and get out, I must inform you of all the latest battles and strategies, not to mention all of the opponents that you have note faced." Ulquiorra said before his figure left the restroom.
"Ulquiorra…?" Grimmjow choked out. He froze, all words catching in his throat. "Does he even remember me…?" Grimmjow whispered. He knew that he was stupid for making such a decision but hell if his love for Ulquiorra wasn't worth it.
Upon leaving the restroom Grimmjow set up to putting on his cloths. He found Ulquiorra outside of the door, awaiting him. At the sight of the Sexta, Ulquiorra began to walk, making sure Grimmjow was beside him.
"Firstly, Szayel will not be in any upcoming battles, he is still unconscious." Ulquiorra started. Grimmjow wasn't really paying attention, his mind was still wandering through all of his ordeal. He didn't even notice that Ulquiorra had stopped walking, and he hadn't noticed that he had walked a few yards away.
"Tch, empty minded as usual, trash." Ulquiorra spat out, voice so laced with venom Grimmjow cringed. Grimmjow turned around and shoved his hands in his pockets, not caring for the distasteful look Ulquiorra gave him. "Come on, we must hurry if I am to take you to Lord Aizen for him to explain the new task to be handed to you."
Grimmjow growled ferociously and slammed his fist against the wall behind Ulquiorra. "Don't you EVER speak of 'Lord Aizen' or any other idiot to me again!" Grimmjow growled as his fist dug deeper into the large gap.
"Hold your tongue and your temper, trash." Ulquiorra said impassively, yet full of searing power. "If you raise your voice again, I will have forced to remove your tongue." Ulquiorra paused for a moment before walking down the hall. Grimmjow, still furious, walked down the hall behind his superior.
…
"That is all." Ulquiorra concluded. He felt a little uneasy, mainly because of the Sexta's uncharacteristic silence. "Enter the throne room and speak to Lord Aizen, he will inform you of all that I can not." Ulquiorra paused, revering the silence before hating it. "I will go now."
Ulquiorra took a few steps when he felt two arms wrap around his waist and a strong chest against his back. He froze, feeling hot breath ghosting across his ear.
"Tell me, Ulquiorra, when you dream, do you dream of fire? Do you dream of the smoke in your sight, the heat against your body and the tears--all the tears you had cried for your family? Do you close your eyes and see the orange--the black? Tell me, Ulquiorra, am I the only one that carries these memories?" Grimmjow whispered huskily into Ulquiorra's ear. Ulquiorra's words caught in his throat and when the hands let go of him and the heat disappeared, he fell in a heap of confused mess. He turned and couldn't find Grimmjow anywhere, deciding that the Sexta had already entered the throne room.
Fire. Smoke. Screams of pain. Pleas for help.
"Ulquiorra!" Fire. "Get away!" Smoke. "Save yourself!" Screams.
Ulquiorra looked back at the large, white double doors. Grimmjow remembered, remembered it all.
"Ulquiorra, what…what happened to your family?" Grimmjow asked, voice unusually gentle. "If you don't want to tell me, I'll understand." Grimmjow spat out.
"They died in a fire." Ulquiorra said, turning away to write on some paper. "When I was a little boy, around six, there was a fire in the hall and it spread quickly. My mom, she told me to run away and I did."
"I'm sorry…" Grimmjow whispered.
"No, It's fine. I got over it pretty quick." Ulquiorra lied, still not looking at Grimmjow. Ulquiorra looked up in shock when two strong, warm arms wrapped around his chest. "Grimmjow, what are you doing?"
"Idiot, you aren't over it. Don't hide your sadness, Ulqui." Grimmjow whispered in Ulquiorra's ear.
"I'm not it's just…" Ulquiorra froze at the realization that he was crying. He didn't cry for anything, even when he was a little boy. "I still have dreams about it--the fire and the smoke, my mom's screams and pleas for help despite the fact that she told me to leave. I did leave, I could have helped her…" Ulquiorra held onto Grimmjow's shirt tightly. "I still dream in fire."
Ulquiorra got up and walked cautiously to his room. Once in his private chambers, he slammed the door shut and collapsed on his bed. He was zombie-like, only doing what his body wanted. Soon enough he fell asleep.
"Who are you?"
"I'm here to save you, Ulquiorra Schiffer." The Shinigami said with a gentle smile.
"What-what is that?" Ulquiorra asked, knees pressed against his chest.
"It was a soul, but when a soul goes away and they ;eave something important to them behind or they die in a unexpected way they become hollows."
"S-Souls?" Ulquiorra stuttered.
"Yes, Ulquiorra. These hollows were once souls, but they didn't want to leave. Hollows don't have hearts so they attack those that were the most important to them in order to fill the gap, usually people they loved." The Shinigami explained.
"W-what?"
"That's right, Ulquiorra. Hollows attack people to fill their empty hearts, so they attack people they loved when they were alive." The Shinigami continued.
"So this…" Ulquiorra looked over at the hollow, the kind blue eyes that seemed to be in an internal conflict with itself. "Grimmjow?"