A/N: So last week me and moony wrote what we both thought were pretty bacontastic chapters. We posted and waited...good thing we weren't holding our breath cause we'd be dead. I was like 'did everyone's Internet die?' ok well eventually I did get 2 reviews but I'm still a little sad. It was not a lot of feedback for the work I put into this chapter. /tear.
Ulquiorra: uhm...it's ok.
Elfman: BE A MAN ABOUT IT!
Me: O-okay...
Ulquiorra let his eyes remain focused on the spot where his auburn-haired love had ridden off on the back of her blue-haired knight in shining armor. At last he wrenched his eyes away from where all the white-clad Arrancar had closed in around them, filling the space they had left as easy as air. Ulquiorra turned his gaze up to Aizen, seeing the man's face set in an easy smile and his cold brown eyes on Ulquiorra. The latter swallowed hard and turned away from his master, letting himself be engulfed by the white beings around him.
He wandered through the mass of people aimlessly, not paying attention to where he was going. All he cared about was staying away from Grimmjow and Orihime, because the sight of them was making his Hollow hole ache. His Fracciónes trailed behind him, greeting random Arrancar and then catching up to him, loudly voicing their opinions on his random walking and refusal to speak to anyone. But he didn't stop, lost in his thoughts, his eyes focused on the ground in front of him.
Aizen had called all of his army together. He said he wanted them to mingle and get to know each other, but Ulquiorra suspected that in reality he just wanted to see how large his forces were. Maybe he'd speak later or something, but right now he was just watching them. Watching Ulquiorra.
Someone tapped Ulquiorra's shoulder, rousing him from his thoughts. He looked up to see the face of Tia Halibel, partly covered by her white collar, as usual. She tiled her head to the side when his eyes met hers.
"Halibel," he greeted.
"Musing, Ulquiorra?" she asked him, but he didn't respond. He had nothing to say.
"I have something for you," she murmured. "It's from her."
She didn't need to say any names. Ulquiorra knew who she was talking about, and he felt anticipation begin to slither through his body, although he was careful to keep his face blank.
"Aizen has been watching me this whole time, and I do not think he intends to stop now."
"Did you even look? He is watching Nnoitra."
Ulquiorra glanced up at their master, raised so high above them all. His eyes were indeed aimed in a different direction.
"Alright." Ulquiorra turned back to the exotic woman in front of him. "What is it that you have for me?"
"I suggested to Anómino-san that she get Inoue-san to write letters. I think she can remember the idea of someone, but not actually anyone. She has been writing a lot, from what Anómino-san tells me, and today she gave me the first letter."
Halibel lifted her other hand, which until now she had been keeping by her side. In it was an envelope, slightly battered from the amount of times it had changed hands. On the front was his name, written in smooth blue ink.
"That's not her handwriting," Ulquiorra said after glancing at it. He flipped the letter over and saw that it was stamped with Halibel's shark seal. He raised his eyes to Halibel, questioning with his gaze.
"I put it in an envelope and marked it with my seal and your name so it would get to you and would not be opened if I lost it," she murmured, and gestured to the door. "Go, Ulquiorra. You've been here long enough. Go back and read her words."
So he did.
Dear _,
I know that you probably can't tell, but it's very, very early in the morning here-not that I would really know. The sky inside the dome never changes, and outside it's always night…so does that mean that if I'm inside the dome it's morning, and if I'm outside it's night? Actually never mind, that's off topic. But yeah, basically, I'm not sure what time it is, all I know is that people are still asleep-so I have to whisper if I want to talk. Ggio-nii and Anónimo-chan still haven't come back, but I did find a little red bean bun on my night stand when I woke up. I bet that it was Anó-chan. It doesn't seem to be in Ggio-nii's character to do something like that, and I don't know Abirama-nii, Findorr-nii, Choe-nii, or Niggre-nii well enough to know if they'd do it…but Charlotte-nii might. But, then again, I doubt that he'd be quiet enough not to wake me, judging by how he greeted me yesterday (^^)".
Anyways, do you like my nickname for Anónimo-chan? I like it, only, it sounds exactly like "ano", like the sound that you make when you don't know what to say. I guess that that shouldn't be her nickname then…what do you think? I kinda feel bad for Mino-chan (actually, no, that doesn't sound right as her nickname either. If I had to pick, 'Anó' is a better one than 'Mino'.). The others seem to treat her unfairly. Brotherly love perhaps? I guess that I'll have to ask her myself, now won't I? What do you think _?
I know that it probably hasn't been that long since I was with the others, but I'm lonely. And…I've had time to think about something. I remember some things now too. The faces that I had remembered before? Now I remember names: Tatsuki-chan, Sado-kun, Ishida-kun, and Kurosaki-kun. And, and I think that Kurosaki-kun is really special to me. I can feel it. There's…eto…how to explain it. Hmmm…a pull? Yeah, something like that, a pull that I feel when I think about him…it's just it hurts. And it makes me sad when I think about it. There's another girl's face. She's really small-shorter than me!- and she's wearing black clothing, and is holding a sword. Is-is she a shinigami? Tou-san says that they're very bad, is that why I feel a little envious and jealous when I think of her? I'm still really confused.
But, talking to you _, it makes me feel safe. I feel like, like I just drank a whole mug of hot chocolate full of melted marshmallows with wasabi and soy sause drizzled on top! That's how you make me feel :3 I love drinking hot chocolate like that, it's the best way to drink it, don't you agree? Anyways, I hope that you're doing okay where ever you are _. I really miss you! Write back to me as soon as you can, okay?
\(^3^)/
-Inoue Orihime
Below that she had doodled in the free space, a chibi of herself holding the hand of a generic-looking Arrancar. The face of the Arrancar was a slightly darker shade than the paper, as if she had drawn his face multiple times and erased it because it hadn't been quite right. Expressionless, he read the letter again.
There were so many questions that he had. How, exactly, had Cuulhorne greeted her that day? Why would the girl Anómino have left a red bean bun on her nightstand? Did the girl sneak in when she was sleeping? Why was she mistreated by Barragan's Fracción when Inoue herself seemed to be treated so well? But if she was treated so well, why did she feel lonely? And what on earth was the nonsense about Kurosaki being special?
He was almost angry about that, almost jealous... But then the next paragraph came. How talking to him, even just an idea of him, made her feel safe. Like she had been drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows and...Wasabi and soy sauce. And the sketch at the bottom...She had drawn herself holding hands with an idea of an Arrancar. She knew what Kurosaki's face looked like, but she didn't sketch it on the paper. In fact she hadn't drawn it anywhere, at all. And even though she didn't know what he looked like, she had drawn him, an idea of him, and close to her. Holding hands, touching.
He folded up the letter and pushed it back in the envelope, propping it on the desk. Then he unzipped his jacket, unstrapped his sandals and pulled off his socks, unbuckled his belt and let his pants drop to the floor. Feeling like a complete and total pile of crap, he didn't even bother to hang up his dirty uniform for the cleaners. Instead, he just crawled into bed in his underwear, curled up on his side like a baby, horn pointing to the sky, fell asleep and dreamed of her.
-I'm coming in.
It's your standard way of opening the door, letting her know you are coming. It doesn't really matter; what could she be doing in there anyway? But you still do it. Chivalrous, that's what you are; that's your reputation that will definitely be ruined after today.
Your hand connects with the doorknob, and with a slight twist and push, you can see her. Her red hair flows down her back like liquid flames, highlighted by the black and white dress garment she sports on Aizen-sama's command. She is sitting on the floor, in the patch of light made by the moon. Her head turns when she hears you coming in, and a quizzical look comes over her face when she sees you have no food.
-Hello, Ulquiorra-kun, she says, as politely as she can with the confusion still evident in her voice.
-Inoue, you say curtly. Your greeting is short and to the point as usual, but not for the reason it usually is. Green eyes trace her face, her figure, and you stand in silence and study each other.
-A-ano…? she asks timidly. –Are you here for a reason, Ulquiorra?
-I never do things without reason, you remind her distractedly.
-Care to share your reason with me?
You let go of the door, and it swings shut behind you with a loud clack. –I wish to talk with you, you say.
-Talk away.
You take quick footsteps over to the couch and sink onto the surface of it, without taking your eyes from her. She scrambles up as well and sits next to you, closer than you thought she would. It makes you want to hold your breath, afraid a sudden movement will startle her away.
-I had…a question for you, Onna.
This makes her blush, although you are not sure why. One think you cannot deny, however, is the uncomfortable atmosphere. Did you do this? You aren't sure.
-Okay.
You take a moment to prepare yourself to ask the question. Honestly you've never had a discussion like this before.
-What did you say the four elements of love are, Onna?
She has talked about this before, mindlessly spoke of what love is, of what it can be. In a hypnotic voice, half-dreaming, she spoke of the four things when she thought you weren't listening. But you were, you were listening and you heard her and you've thought about it ever since.
She looks at you, startled. –What do you mean?
-Do not make me repeat myself.
-You heard that? she asks, incredulous.
-Of course I did. Now will you please answer my question with a statement instead of more of your own?
She looks away from you now, into her hands, her hair falling over her shoulder as she gazes at her palms. -If you love someone, you want the best for them. You want them to succeed. You always want to be with them. You try to protect them and you would sacrifice anything for them. Her cheeks flush a bit. -At least, that's what I've felt from my experience.
-I see. So, if all four of these urges were present, would that mean love was present? you ask, clarifying, seeking to understand.
She blinks and looks back at you. -Well, yes, I suppose. Why are you asking?
-I see. Well then, Onna, I think it would be appropriate to say that I am in this "love" with you.
Red stains her cheeks now, and you reach out with your pale hand, lightly grasping her jawline with your hand and pulling her face towards yours. Her gray eyes are wide with shock, emotion swimming in their depths.
-I hope I am doing the right thing, you murmur. –I do not know about all of these things yet. If I am doing something wrong, stop me.
She just looks at you, gaping, her chin still in your hands. And then you lean forward and let your mouth meet hers in the kiss that starts it all.
The next day you return to her, because you left after that small kiss to retreat and gather your wits, all of which have fled after confessing to her. You open the door after your usual warning, and see that she is sitting on the couch, waiting for you.
-Come here, she smiles, beckoning you with a pat beside her. You follow like you are a small child and she is waving candy. Pathetic, a dry, slithering voice – Murciélago – comments in the back of your mind, but you brush off the batlike demon and sit gingerly beside her.
-I have food this time, you say as a nameless Arrancar wheels in the cart loaded with food.
-Yay! she exclaims, and claps her hands with delight, pausing with embarrassment as a loud rumble fills the room. Heat floods her cheeks, and she smiles nervously, her eyes closing as she cringes.
-Ano…gomen! Just a little hungry! she shrieks, and the Arrancar backs out of the room and closes the door behind him.
-It is fine. It was I who neglected my duties yesterday, anyway. You reach out and pull the cart closer, so that all the food that is on it is right beneath her nose. Her eyes fixate on it, and you can almost hear her salivating.
-Let's eat and talk, she decides. –Itadakimasu!
It's the fastest blessing you've ever heard. She picks up her fork and begins shoveling food in her mouth at a speed faster than Kurosaki's Bankai.
-Slow down, Onna. You will give yourself a stomach ache.
She pauses, forkful of food halfway to her mouth. Somehow even though she has been eating at the speed of sound she has succeeded in not dropping a single morsel of food on her garment.
-Gomenasai, Ulquiorra-kun! I suppose you think I'm a pig, don't you?
-Not at all, you say. –On the contrary I think it is fascinating.
When she looks confused, you elaborate. –I myself do not consume human food very often. Usually only when a trauma occurs to my body or mind.
-What d'you eat, then?
-I feed off the living Reatsu in the atmosphere. Otherwise nothing.
-You live off of air. She frowns, as if trying to imagine such a concept.
-Yes.
Suddenly her face breaks into a huge grin, and she draws in a loud breath. –Sugoi! That is so kawaii, Ulquiorra-kun!
You open your mouth to say something, but are distracted by her lips. Pink and plump and marred by a grain of rice. –Onna. You have something… You gesture to your own mouth, and her smile fades. A beat of regret skips through you.
-Here? She swipes at her mouth, missing the morsel.
-No, you missed. Right, um… You point to your own mouth again, and she mirrors you, pushing at the complete wrong side altogether.
-There?
-No. Now you take her hand and guide it to her lips, using your fingers to control her own, brushing the rice from her mouth to her lap. The rice falls and you are frozen together, eyes locked. A blush creeps up her cheeks, but you cannot look away from her.
Slowly you lean forward, and like a puppet on a string she imitates you until your noses are a centimeter apart. As her eyes slide closed, yours do to, and your noses brush as your lips meet hers.
You can taste her exotic food lingering on her lips, the way she mixed all those different dishes together to create something that belonged in Szayelaporro's lab, although she had consumed it too fast to notice. You can also taste a sweetness that lingers on her lips. Your nose, so close to her skin, picks up her own personal scent that lingers even after so long in the washed-out Las Noches, the smell of rain and hibiscus flowers, of wet pine trees and dawn, and waterfalls and moss and that sweet aura that she carries with her.
Instinct takes over; you let your tongue slip from between mismatched lips and nudge her own, pink lips with it. Tracing the outline of both of them, the bottom and the top, and running your tongue on the opening where they split to smile and laugh and sing. Now she opens them for you, hesitantly, and you dodge inside and the taste hits you – but it tastes amazing, it tastes like her.
She is almost in your lap now, one leg sprawled over your thighs, and her fingers are twined together behind your neck. Your own hands caress her tumbling red hair – but it's not just red, it's orange and yellow and pink and gold, and it is alive and passionate, and as you run your fingers through it you can feel the energy and feel the way it is responding to your touch, feel the way she is responding to your touch.
Heat pools in your gut, and you break away from her lips, both of you gasping for air. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, and it's hard to look away.
-Am I doing this right? you ask.
-I…I wouldn't know, she says breathlessly. –I've never done this either.
-Then we will learn together, you say, and lean into her lips again.
Ulquiorra woke, gasping, from yet another dream.
It had been a week since he had last seen her at that meeting. In that time, he had been training relentlessly, determined to push all thoughts of her from his mind. But it was to no avail. Each strike, each thrust that he made with his sword just reminded him of how he had failed to keep her by his side.
What was even worse, somehow, was that his Fracción had gone to the World of the Living and had somehow gotten supplies from a craft store. Yesterday they had shown up in the middle of his practice, baring banners that screamed encouraging catchphrases in violent colors, draped in headbands and ribbons and all sorts of paraphernalia, screaming and chanting and egging him on at the top of their voices. Somehow nothing he could do made them stop and cease the noise, and they carried on until he finally sheathed his sword and dripped his way to the showers.
In all this time he had been too busy to write any more letters, nor had he received any from Halibel. Had she only written one? It did not matter. She was writing to a face she didn't even know, after all. But he had no excuse. He decided, laying covered in sweat and draped in sticky blankets, that he would write her again.
His chest heaved for a moment as he lay there in bed, propped on his elbows with his head dangling back. Finally he pulled himself together and pushed back the sheets, letting the cool air wash over his damp skin in a refreshing way. He climbed into his clothes and sat down at his desk, pulling out his green ink pen and a fresh sheet of stationery.
My sweet Orihime,
I keep having dreams about the time before you were taken from me. It seems like so long since I have seen your face. But I must ask you this. I know your memories are fractured, but do you remember what you told me about the four elements of love, Orihime? The first; you want them to succeed. The second; you always want to be with them. The third; you try to protect them and, the fourth; you would sacrifice anything for them. This is what you yourself told me, Onna. But I think you left one out. The fifth element of love: when you are away from them, you want to be with them. You feel like there is a part of you missing, like someone reached into your chest and drew out an organ and left a big bloody tear in your chest, like they kicked your head and left you there on the ground to die. Like they took that organ, that vital organ, and locked it up somewhere, and whispered sweet nothings to it so that it didn't think it was missing anything, like they twisted its mind and made it believe that what it used to cherish was something evil, something that should be pushed away and turned from, something that you wouldn't touch with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole. Like they took your very beating heart from you and would never ever give it back.
That is all.
-Ulquiorra.
Please review and warm my frozen little heart...no seriously I've been playing in the sprinkler with my kiddlins the last hour and I'm freezing cold :)