I'm Back. I worked realy hard on this chapter. Please Read and Review. I'm not sure if the end really does justice to this story though, but I wanted it to have a happy ending. And please excuse any gramatical errors. If coma's where people, I would be a serial killer, for hanging too many of them.

Understanding

It was unknown why Panthera liked Ulquiorra, perhaps it was that the stoic, expresionless man disliked him. He never looked at him or patted him. According to Ulquiorra, this cat was a thing, like all the others below him, not worthy of his attention. But the small one would follow him like a shadow swatting at his coat tails as he walked. Waiting for the man to turn around. It did not matter if he was angry or if he kicked him to the side (gently) Panthera still liked him.

On this day, as Panthera was trailing him, one of his claws caught his coat tail,it held tight no matter how much he yanked or tried to pull the fabric back over the curve of his claw. It was evident he was stuck.

Ulquiorra felt a slight pressure, nagging him from behind

Curiose as to what it was, he craned his head back, and saw the tiny panther sitting pathedicly on the floor, trying to wrench his paw free.

Irraitated, the pale man snached up his coat tail and dangled the unsuspection cat in front of him. He stared at the kitten, as if to demand, why he, of all things would dare touch him.

That if he wanted to he could kill him in an instant.

Pantherastarted to slip, his claw taring the white fabric of his jacket. Until he fell with a soft thud onto the hard, cold ,stone floor.

Ulquiorra flicked the damaged tail behind him, and proceeded down the hall to his room. Panthera then stummbled to his feet, and continued to follow him. He skirted by, as the man, entered his domain.

It was late, and he was tired. As he sat down on the edge of his bed, Panthera lept up next to him, as if to challege the nerves of the green eyed man. Who had just about enough of this constant pest. He hated being followed, and now he had to get a new uniform.

He decided to ignore him. He'll go away, if I pay him no mind.

But, cats are insistant, they will find, that one person who dislikes them, and strive to make that person their friend.

Panthera stayed. He even moved closer. rubbing his head agaist his elbow. willing him to look in his direction. But he was ignored. Egsasbersted. The cat began tugging on his uniform sleeve. His sharp teeth, ripping jagged tares.

Ulquiorra could take it no longer. He glared at the cat, as he raised his arm, so that his hand was in an open fist, his black fingernails curved slightly inward, like a claw hovering over his head. He was ready to strike when, Panthera who was now cowering in fear, opened his eyes wide, as if waiting to be beaten. They sparked and showed how small and cute he

really was.

For a moment, Ulquiorra's looked into those eyes. But, what he saw, and what he heard he did not understand.

He did not see. the rich, amber color, or the viscus white liquid that allows the rest of the eye to float perfectly inside that hollow bone in ones head. He saw beyond that. Behind the eyes.

Everything one sees, experinces, or even thinks. It stored behind the eyes. for, that is where the brain is, and inside the brain is the mind.

He saw into his mind.

It was quite and almost bare of anything. He saw a green place, perhaps it was a rainforest. Then he saw a cage. Then Grimmjow stood holding the small panther. The image he saw next surpised him the most. It was him. He remembered that night, all warm and toasty. Sleeping like he had not slep in a thousand years. He saw the glow of reflective eyes at the bottom of his bed. He wanted to know why? Why did he come? Did he not know, that I hate him.

Then, as he looked away, he heard something. It started out soft and light, like somebody wispering into his ear. Like a timid person, who is was afraid to speak up, for fear of being silenced.

All of a sudden, it was like courage over rode the voice, and it spoke up. Even when Ulquirorra covered his ears, and tryed to deni the voice being there.

I was illogical to hear voices, but then it was illogical to see what he just saw now. Never in his life, even after his creation, had he ever been confused. He belived he could see every thing he belived in, holding it made in even more relevant, because it gave soild proof that what he was seeing was real.

But he could not hold what he saw, and he could not see what he heard.

The voice grew stronger, like, there was some kind of new found courge driving it. WHY DO YOU PRETEND NOT TO HEAR ME, The voice boomed. Is it so unbelievable that I can talk in a untaditional way, different from you or your kind. Ulquiorra ignored it. There was no proof that it was real, but the cat continued to speak, even though he was now speaking to his back. I know that you don't like me. but I don't care. I know that deep down you like me too, just like you are dening that I am speaking to you. I will always follow you, sleep on your feet and on the off chance rub up against your leg and purr. Just remember Some things cannot be explained, Some things rely on faith. Some things... Grimmjow walked down the hall calling for his little Panthra. The cat lept off of his bed, and padded to the door, and he pushed it open. Grimmjow leaned down smiling and picked up his pet. He held him in his arms. Like the cat was a part of him. As Grimmjow retreated down the hall. Panthra looked over his masters shoulder, and said, he wanted to know more about the pale man. He was strange, like there was something missing within him. He did not know what it was, but he knew that it was important. The blue haired man, slightly scoffed, and said good luck with that. But Grimmjow made him promise, that if he did find anything out of any importance about The man with the permanent tear marks, that he would tell him, because not much was known about him.

Ulquiorra, watched as they walked away. He thought he heard something. It was Grimmjow speaking, as if another ws there, but there was nobody, only the panther. that was draped over his shoulder. He thought that maybe this was the proof he needed.

The next morning, when Panthera, exited Grimmjows room, to wonder the palace. He saw something, that made him stop. There on the floor, sat a shallow bowl of cream. He looked at it, and wondered why anyone, except for his master, would give him anything. He sniffed the rim, which was very clean, like the bowl was placed on the floor first, then the liquid was poured carefully inside, so none splashed anywhere. He stepped back a little when the name came to him.

Was this done by the same hand. That hand, that was raised violently over me, in a clawed fist.

How can that hand behave so delicately. Did something unforeseen happen last night. He was sure that he had not listened to anything he said. Beliving that it was not true. But he was happy, that something did happen, even if he did not undertand it. He drank the cream until he could no longer taste it anymore.

He did not mention this act of kindness to Grimmjow. He knew that the 4th, was a proud man, too proud to admit being kind to a creature such as himself

Panthera wondered, if this was part of what was missing within the man.

The one thing he knew for sure was that the half helmeted espada, who hates everything, would have to pretend to hate him, for now on, just to save the face of his reputation.