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CHAPTER 4
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Ulquiorra knew the girl was going to be trouble the moment she set foot within Las Noches. Not five minutes after walking through the gates and she was causing strife between the members of the Espada, not that there wasn't enough of that already.
However, despite the addition of Las Noches' newest occupant, his mind had been solely preoccupied by the curious case that was Ichigo Kurosaki. He hadn't been able to shake the strange feeling that boy gave him from the moment he had set eyes on him. There was something about him, something that told him the boy was…significant. Everything about him was weak, pitiable, and unforgivably impetuous. He was trash, no doubt. Yet, the extraordinary attention imparted to him by Aizen warranted more than just a second glance.
Could he be dangerous?
Ulquiorra hardly thought so. He'd been so incapable it was appalling. To even imagine that he'd succeeded in garnering Aizen's attention, as well as Ulquiorra's by proxy, was near impossible to believe. But he had, and there was nothing to be done about it at present.
Ichigo Kurosaki was a part of the war now, and had thus unwittingly dragged the woman into it by extension.
Difference being, Ulquiorra couldn't fully understand Aizen's desire to have the girl under his thumb, outstanding as her powers may be. But that boy, on the other hand…
There was a glimmer of a dark thing inside him that was brash, yet firmly resolute. It was liken to a latent shadow that lay sleeping, only to arise at times as it cried out like something from the very depths of Hueco Mundo itself. Like it was bred from the very same pit Ulquiorra himself had crawled out from. There was something about it that was distinctly…Hollow-like.
Despite himself, it was clear to Ulquiorra that Ichigo Kurosaki meant…something. It was something that became obvious to him when the boy had blundered into the park that day with all the finesse of a fish out of water and made a complete fool of himself. He'd shown some remarkable signs of strength then, but it was raw and unrefined. It was an unknown curiosity that gnawed at him from the inside and whispered insistently. It told Ulquiorra that the boy was the key, a key to something that Ulquiorra had been searching the deserts for since a very long time.
Unfortunately, he'd been haunted with these deep thoughts for days.
That was, until he'd been saddled with the girl. Needless to say, she'd proven herself an impressive distraction, much to his dismay, and had taken time away from his work.
Ulquiorra had been more than a little displeased when Aizen had thrown her at him without warning. Quite frankly, he'd expected the woman would have been sent off with Harribel and her fraccion, never to be seen again. Ulquiorra could see the rationale behind Aizen's decision, considering he was the only one in Aizen's army that probably wouldn't slaughter or rape the woman on her first night's stay. That didn't mean he agreed on what good it would do. Ulquiorra knew nothing about tending to humans and he never had an urge to. Aside from their general frailty, they were whimsical, overly hormonal creatures that seemed to purposefully and deliberately overload themselves on emotional behaviors. She was more responsibility than he wanted.
Remarkably enough, the girl had proven stronger willed than he'd first assumed. He wouldn't have blamed her if she'd cracked the moment he left her in that room alone. She was human, after all; weak and useless as they were, it was in her nature to fail and humiliate herself. Because of this, he'd given in to a momentary whim. He'd pushed her and provoked her until she snapped.
Ulquiorra had expected her to crumble at his feet and beg for freedom like the weak willed mortal she was. He'd wanted to put her in her place, to see her break, but she hadn't…and it had unnerved him.
Greatly.
She'd stood there, glaring unmercifully into his eyes as if she actually had the power to defy him. He saw fear in her eyes as her body shook with unrestrained anger, but it was not the fear he had wanted to see, and neither was it the intimate fear of a woman standing half naked before a man in a completely sheer garment that had exposed the pink of her breasts in ways he didn't even think she was aware of.
It was fear of herself.
The fear was of emotions that were fresh and primal. True loathing, fanned to life at his words, had just given birth inside of her. Like a once fine and delicate silken taffeta that had been torn down the middle, it would never return to the pristine beauty of what it once was.
Aside from her humanity, there was indeed something unique and remarkable about her powers, a noteworthy aspect that was impressive enough to catch even Aizen's eye. She was beyond beautiful and she was strong willed, with an innocent smile and a charming naivety that caught the eye of both men and women alike. She had barely been in Las Noches but a day and already the men were sniffing after her, the women were scorning her, while even Aizen pampered her. She sucked the Hollows of Las Noches in like a magnet and devoured them with her humanity.
Beautiful, sweet, innocent, kind; all Ulquiorra saw was the scores of trouble this was going to cause him.
To the deprived residents of Hueco Mundo's barren desert, she was an oasis begging to be drank from.
Regardless of the conflict she was likely to bring to his doorstep, she still played the part expected of her and kept herself safe in her small corner of submissive security. She had proven that well enough when she failed to honestly answer Aizen's inquiries about his treatment of her, simply because she hadn't the guts to stand the thought of someone suffering at the hands of another, no matter how they had wronged her.
It was an irksome duty, indeed, but he would tend to her. He would see to her every need until she realized that her life depended solely on him, until she would bend and yield to the point that she would no longer have the will to fight and she would simply give in and Aizen would have the proper servant he desired out of her.
There was nothing more to it than that. She was another job in his already long list of duties. Dwelling on it further was pointless.
Ulquiorra closed his eyes against the harsh desert wind as he stood silently, waiting with his hands buried comfortably within his pockets. The weather had been rather unkind to Hueco Mundo recently. Its once delicate and soft breezes had turned into a tempest of dust storms and hurricanes molded of sand and dry air. The cliff he now stood on had relatively removed him from most of the commotion in the valleys below and had afforded him a safe view of the area, preventing any unwanted aggressors from making an easy approach.
As Ulquiorra reopened his eyes, a swift blur of black and white appeared before him without warning. The sudden appearance of the apparition had done little more to the atmosphere than kick up a single tuft of sand. It curled around a pair of small feet, only to be whisked away by the wind and sent back into the deserts where it belonged.
Onyx blue hair framed a pair of sharp, alert grey eyes set into the stern face of the Captain of the Second Division of the Gotei Thirteen. The petite woman stared Ulquiorra down in tense silence as the air seemed to prickle with electricity emitted by her. He could sense the hostility radiating from her in waves as he patiently waited for her to announce herself.
"You one of Aizen's men?" she asked with a restrained calmness that contradicted her stern features.
"I believe you already know the answer to that question…Shinigami," Ulquiorra replied quietly, completely unruffled by her sudden appearance and her tempered disdain. She was, after all, the reason he had bothered to come out there in the first place. They had sensed her the moment she entered their realm.
"Then you know why I'm here," the woman countered firmly. Her voice was steady and even a little harsh for such a small female, but it did nothing to dampen the seething vibe her reiatsu was emanating. Ulquiorra said nothing as he continued to watch the woman with unwavering eyes, waiting for her to get to the point. "I am Captain Soifon of the Gotei Thirteen. I've been sent here on orders from Captain Commander Genryusai Yamamoto to deliver important documentation regarding the war between Soul Society and Hueco Mundo."
"Documentation?" he inquired.
"Yes, it would seem you have something that belongs to us." Her eyes narrowed.
"Are you insinuating something?" his calm voice implied. "To my knowledge, everything within Las Noches has always belonged to Lord Aizen…and always will."
"I see." Soifon smirked mockingly. "Then I would presume that your knowledge is lacking, Cifer-san."
Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed sharply.
The woman before him released a half chuckle and allowed her smirk to widen. "Seems you Hollows don't take too kindly to insults," she began. "Or perhaps you're just wondering how I know your name?" In an instant, her smirk vanished and was replaced once more by her fierce scowl. "Those were my men you Arrancar killed in the living world, it's my business to know what happens on my squad's missions and who my squads are facing." She nearly hissed as she kept her features as unmoved as she could manage. Reaching behind her, Soifon's fingers wrapped around the Zanpakuto strapped to her back. "Tell me, how many of my men did you kill that night?" she asked darkly as the air around her became thick and heavy.
"If I told you, would it make a difference?" Ulquiorra watched her for any significant movement should she choose to attack, and expanded his senses a little to get a good, accurate reading into the depth of her strength. She was strong, but she clearly had a temper. It would be easy for him to control the conversation.
Her smirk returned again, put firmly back in place as it held a slightly more provoking tilt to it. "I guess not," she admitted. "I'd probably just want to slaughter you, anyways." Her hand tightened around her Zanpakuto and as she did so, Ulquiorra looked away from her to stare off into the distance in a manner that was as blatantly dismissive as it was insulting.
Soifon grit her teeth.
"If I'm not mistaken, I was under the impression you were here to do business on more pressing matters…" he said, completely diverting the topic away from her fervent sense of personal justice.
Without a word, the Shinigami Captain pulled her hand away from her sword and straightened herself from the slightly aggressive posture she had been in. After several seconds of silence, she schooled her features once more before speaking at him with a commanding tone.
"The girl you have in that castle is a betrayer to Soul Society and everything it stands for. By all rights, she is our prisoner and as such, Soul Society is entitled to retrieve her immediately and under any means necessary," she explained, her voice deep and confident. Ulquiorra remained stoic as the woman's hand moved up to reach for something in the breast of her haori. Even while never taking his eyes off hers, he stayed keenly aware of her every move as a sealed scroll was brought out from the folds of her clothing. "I am here by order of Commander Yamamoto, as well as Central 46 itself, to inform you that unless both sides are able to come to a temporary ceasefire, severe action can and will be taken to repair this indiscretion. All further information Aizen needs to know is in these documents." She held up the papers.
Ulquiorra eyed the cylinder for a moment before mulling over the message.
So they want to trade the girl for temporary peace, Ulquiorra thought to himself as he absorbed the information. It was a wise move on Soul Society's part, no doubt. It would bide them time to focus on strengthening their defenses, as well as organize tactics and political maneuvers to gain deeper information on their enemy. After all, the Shinigami forces did not wholly know exactly what it was Aizen Sosuke wanted…all they truly knew was that a trusted member of their ranks had defected from their creed and was now running astray in the realm of Hueco Mundo. Their only cause for alarm being the hundreds, if not thousands, of Arrancar the man was slowly molding into an army - an army that they had not even known existed until months ago.
Undoubtedly, they could see that such an agreement would never be a permanent solution. Both sides knew a war was coming, the only issue was that neither one was ready for it…and the girl was the perfect excuse to postpone it. One human girl, young and weak, was the ideal candidate to delay a war. Ulquiorra could suddenly see the appeal of having her under their control. Not only were her powers useful, but she played a role in the grander scale of things. She was going to serve her purpose, and she was going to serve it well.
"Do you have any questions?" she asked coldly, an act of courtesy taken purely out of duty and nothing more. "Or do I need to repeat myself?"
"That will not be necessary," he answered. "If that is all, then I will have to suggest that you leave at once." His soft spoken words carried on the wind as another breeze picked up and blew a swirl of sand between them. "I try not to make a habit of remaining in the presence of trash longer than-"
Ulquiorra's hand immediately retracted from his pocket to catch the heavy scroll that had been forcibly cast at his face, caught just inches from his nose. Slowly lowering his hand, he stared the woman down in silence as his eyes glittered dangerously. Overhead, a stray cloud moved to shroud them from the moon above.
"Forgive me," she bit out as she continued her unrelenting glare. "My hand slipped." And with that last word, the woman turned thereafter and in an instant she was gone, with only the muted whisper of a gust of sand left in her wake.
He could tell someone was following him. Sensing their presence nearby had not been difficult, which led him to believe the individual was either incredibly sloppy or simply didn't feel bothered to mask the traces of their spiritual pressure. While knowing most of the parties of considerable standing within Las Noches and each of their individual reiatsu signatures, Ulquiorra had long been aware of whom his pursuer was. As Ulquiorra took a corner and felt the person move in closer, his suspicions were confirmed as Gin Ichimaru approached him from behind, seemingly appearing out of thin air.
"Well, well, what a surprise running into you of all people here, Cuatro-san," the ex Shinigami Captain began amicably. "I would have expected to see ya already in the meeting Aizen has called," Gin continued in his friendly voice as he walked along beside him, completely unaffected by Ulquiorra's clear disregard for his company. "Any particular reason you're runnin' so late today?"
"Considering you were spying on me, I would expect you of all people to know," Ulquiorra answered.
"Me? Spying?" Gin's wide smile turned downwards into a mock frown. "Now that hurts, Cuatro-san. Such stinging accusations." Angling his head as his smile almost immediately returned full force, Gin locked his hands behind his back and leaned over marginally to examine the pale Espada. "So, how is our delicate flower doing today?"
"I wouldn't know," Ulquiorra replied quietly as he maintained his course down the hall.
"Oh?" Gin's voice utterly dripped with enthusiasm upon hearing this news. "I thought you were supposed to watch her very, very carefully," he drawled.
"She was fine when I left her this morning." Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed menacingly as they shifted to stare at the man from the corner of his eye. "I wouldn't have expected any issues to arise since I've been gone," he said with slow intention as he carefully gauged the reaction of the man beside him. Suspiciously, Ulquiorra watched Gin for hints that he would have caused the girl any trauma during his absence considering the silver haired man was so intent to question him about it. When Gin Ichimaru showed an interest in discussing something, it usually wasn't for the sake of simple pleasantries.
"My goodness, that was hours ago! And here I was under the impression she was entrusted to you by Aizen himself…tsk, tsk, tsk, Cuatro-san…it ain't good to slack off."
"… yes," Ulquiorra answered belatedly and let his eyes slide back to the hallway ahead of him after seeing no real indication that Gin was particularly interested in bothering the girl…rather, he only wanted to bother Ulquiorra instead.
"I heard she made quite the uproar in the fourth tower last night." Gin's smile nearly showed his teeth as he watched the accompanying man like a hawk, looking for any visible signs of irritation. His grin became positively wicked when he saw the tiny, nearly imperceptible twitch at the corner of Ulquiorra's mouth. Leaning in several degrees further to get a good look at the pale man's face, Gin let his smile melt away as his sharp, blue eyes split open just a fraction to peer out from behind his lashes intently. "That cheek's still looking a little red…"
Ulquiorra immediately stopped, his stiff figure standing directly before the large entryway that led to the conference room. Without saying a word, his eyes once again shifted to the slender man beside him.
"You should hurry, Cuatro-san, you're already late enough as it is." Gin smiled as his tone and features returned to their normal, mysteriously cheerful façades. "I also must be on my way." He turned and continued on down the path that they had been taking. "I have a date with a beautiful woman to keep." He grinned over his shoulder before he completely turned away and left.
Not bothering to waste a second on watching the retreating man's back, Ulquiorra pushed open one of the double doors before him to reveal the familiar and spacious room where Aizen frequently held his meetings.
"Ah, it's so nice to see you've finally joined us, Ulquiorra," Aizen greeted politely as Ulquiorra stepped into the room, smiling at him from the head seat of his table filled with his prized Espada.
"My apologies, Lord Aizen."
"It is of no real consequence." Aizen lifted his hand from the table and waved it before him lightly in a slight gesture, dismissing the occurrence as nothing of importance. "However…" he began a little darkly and allowed his eyes to zero in on the pale Espada. "If you do not produce a good enough reason as to why you returned here without the head of that invading Shinigami, I fear I may not find myself as lenient, Ulquiorra."
Further down the table, the unrestrained cackles of Nnoitra were about as subtle as a siren in the hush of the room.
"Of course, My Lord," he said as he approached the table and stopped beside Aizen's chair to produce the parchment from the breast of his jacket. "I was instructed to deliver this to you." As Ulquiorra held the scroll by one end, Aizen reached over with a delighted expression and took the documents.
"Oh…what have we here?" He smiled heartily, as if he didn't already know the answer.
"It was delivered here by a woman claiming to be a Captain from the Gotei Thirteen," Ulquiorra explained as Aizen unscrewed the container and tilted it until the papers fell into his hand.
"A Captain?" Aizen inquired curiously. "The Commander must be very concerned about its contents if he sent a Captain to tend to a delivery man's job," he surmised. "Did she offer her name, by any chance? Was it, Soifon?" His brow arched inquisitively as he asked.
"Yes, My Lord."
Aizen grinned with a mischievous type of sympathy. "I imagine she is just as delightful to converse with as usual, no?"
"Exceedingly," he answered dryly and Aizen chuckled.
When Aizen distractedly motioned for Ulquiorra to take his place at the table, the pale man complied and took his usual seat situated at Aizen's right. "I'm quite anxious to see what Yamamoto was so excited over as to send one of his own Captains to attend such a menial job," he said just as he began to unroll the thick parchment.
"Whatever it is, I would not implicitly trust the word of a Shinigami," Baraggan intoned from his place near the end of the table, making sure to insert his advice into the conversation before Aizen got too worked up over this new development.
"I believe they wish to negotiate an armistice with Las Noches," Ulquiorra said as Aizen continued to silently read over the bold words written on the document.
"An armistice?!" Nnoitra bellowed. "With those assholes? That's a rather asinine idea." Kicking his chair back onto its hind legs, Nnoitra crossed his feet atop the table as he leaned back and locked his hands behind his head. "I'd rather eat shit than cooperate with those freaks." To drive the point home, he leaned over and crudely spat upon the ground to scorn the title of Shinigami that much further.
"Hey Ulquiorra," Yammy inquired loudly from the furthest end of the table. "Just what the hell's an armistice, anyways? Some kind of rodent?"
"…fucking moron," Nnoitra muttered under his breath.
"What'd you say?" Yammy quickly bristled.
"I said you're a fucking moron, a pea brain," Nnoitra retorted. "If you don't know what the fuck we're talking about, then just keep your trap shut."
"We should not get so hastily worked up about this discussion already," Harribel interjected calmly. "As of yet, we are not fully aware of what their plans are, nor do we know why or under what reasoning they would go to such lengths as to request a truce."
"As for Soul Society, it is a move that they must make," Szayel explained with a smirk.
"What do you mean, 'they must make'?" Nnoitra scoffed. "If they had any balls at all, they should have come barging into Hueco Mundo months ago instead of hiding behind their shitty walls like a bunch of cowards!" he exclaimed and slammed the heel of his boot onto the table to emphasize his point. "They're scared of getting their ass kicked, that's what it is!"
With a sigh, Szayel rubbed at his temples before crossing his fingers under his chin and resting his elbows delicately on the table. "They have no other choice at the moment but to try and negotiate, thus they also must gamble with the chance that we may not be completely ready for a full blown war, either. They are riding on the hope that we will have to accept their offer without delay."
"Bullshit!" Nnoitra argued. "We're ready for anything at anytime!" The front legs of his chair clattered back onto the floor as the tall man leaned forward to pound his fist on the table in much the same manner that he had with his foot. "Mine will be the first face that the next Shinigami who sets foot in Hueco Mundo sees," he said ruthlessly. "…and also the last."
"Now, now, Nnoitra," Aizen chided casually as he finished reading through the document. "War is not solely about fighting." He glanced at the dark haired man while he rolled the parchment back up with ease.
"Keh, I can hardly believe that," he rebutted callously. "War is violence and blood and rape and slaughter, nothing more. People just use land, religion, and currency as excuses." Aizen leaned forward on the table and rested his chin in his hand as he listened to his subordinate talk with much gusto. "No, it's all about power," Nnoitra said deeply, making an enthusiastic gesture with his fist.
"Lord Aizen, if I may," Zommari spoke up just then, as he was more interested in learning about what kind of information the document contained rather than Nnoitra's ramblings. "What is it exactly that the Gotei Thirteen want? Do they truly just expect a truce to be brought forth with no prior indication of an interest in peace? It is all rather sudden."
"And suspicious," Baraggan added.
"You are all correct in your assumptions, my comrades." Aizen gave them a single, gracious nod. "There is a reason for this shift in balance to have been brought about so abruptly." His soft smile seemed to widen just then as, right on cue, a noise was heard at the far end of the hall. It captured the attention of the table's seated occupants and they all turned their eyes in the direction of the two figures that had just entered through the adjoining doorway.
"Well, fuck me…" Nnoitra grinned lecherously while the table erupted into a fit of mummers and politically driven whispers tossed from one Espada to the next.
"Some of you may recall, several days ago I sent a group led by Ulquiorra into the living world to retrieve something of importance to me," Aizen explained as Gin escorted a nervous Orihime closer to the table before finally stopping by Aizen's side. "This is my prize," he stated as he reached over and hooked a lock of her long hair around his finger, pulling it over to gently caress his lips like an endearing suitor would to his beloved. "Lovely, isn't she?" he inquired to the table and Orihime stiffened and shuddered at the unwelcoming feeling she was receiving from the room's occupants.
She felt as if each pair of eyes were searing right through her while she stood before them, now wearing one of their own uniforms, feeling open and vulnerable. The strapless dress she'd been given exposed her shoulders and, even though she had been promised a jacket to cover herself, she had not received one.
"So she's what all the fuss has been about?" Starrk asked as he stared at her with lazy eyes and his cheek resting heavily in his palm.
"Yes, my friends, she is what Soul Society wishes to trade for a ceasefire," he announced in order to quickly and easily answer all of their questions. From beside him, Orihime nearly gasped and when her face turned white at hearing such news, she feared she may have to reach out for the table to steady herself.
Soul Society wanted to…trade her? she thought despondently.
Were they truly going to use her in such a manner?
"Hell, if this is the kind of payoff they're willing to bargain with, we should've started a war with them a hell of a lot sooner," Nnoitra quipped.
"Please, have a seat, my dear," Aizen urged while Gin ushered her to the only empty seat at the table, Grimmjow's, directly to the left of Aizen and straight across from Ulquiorra. Taking her seat silently, she gave a short glance to her pale warden situated adjacent to her. His back was straight and his eyes were staring directly into hers in such an unabashed manner that it made her look away. It was a strong, brazen glare that gave her the impression he was not pleased to see someone of her standing seated at the table.
"I must know, Orihime," Aizen addressed her and she was not so sure she would ever become used to him referring to her in such a casual manner. "How do you feel hearing such news? I'm sure it makes you very happy to know that here, in Las Noches, is where your friends want you to be, does it not?" He smiled in that wicked way of his while his brown eyes dug into her.
She swallowed hard as she kept her eyes glued onto the table, clasping her hands tightly in her lap as she slowly nodded in agreement. Happy? Numb was a more appropriate term.
"My Lord!" Zommari suddenly interjected in a small fit of fervor before immediately regaining his stiff composure. "I am compelled to say my word in this matter. I do not agree with this situation, nor the stipulations laid out by Soul Society and their peace treaty," he objected.
"But it is not a peace treaty, Zommari," Aizen said. "It is an armistice, they are two very different things."
"I must say, as much as it displeases me to agree with any of the reprobates at this table, I am of the same mind on the matter. The girl is useless to us and a disgrace to the name of the Espada," came Baraggan's voice.
"I am also in agreement on the matter," Harribel concurred.
"Friends, friends," Aizen implored. "You have yet to even get to know Orihime, she is quite the rare specimen."
"I'll bet she is…" Nnoitra muttered as his eyes raked over her chest.
"I very much agree with you, Lord Aizen," Szayel said pleasantly, not two seats down from her own. "I think she will be a fascinating addition to your collection." As he stated this, he angled his head forward to get a good look at her and Orihime felt a shiver go down her spine at the strange and mentally perverse vibe he was giving off.
"Come," Aizen began as he urged her to stand up once again. "Let us show them what you can do," he said as if to display all the depth and candor of his faith in her.
"I do not see how this mere slip of a girl could possibly posses any qualities that would be capable of impressing an army composed of elite warriors such as myself, let alone performing any of her duties to a proper degree in any circumstance. Look at the insect, you can practically hear her knees clattering together in her fear and cowardice," Baraggan scoffed.
"Well, we could put it to a vote," Yammy suggested dumbly, determined to be a part of the discussion. "You know, see who wants to keep her and who doesn't."
"Didn't I tell you to shut up already?" Nnoitra snapped.
"Like I give a fuck what you say?" Yammy retorted and leaned forward menacingly, daring him to make one more insult about his intelligence.
"Besides, we don't have enough people here for a vote, you nitwit. Luppi's disappeared and who the hell knows where Grimmjow's gone-"
Seemingly, as if called upon by the conjuring of his name, the familiar sound of the large double doors being pushed open with much force echoed through the room like a shot, nearly knocking them off their hinges before slamming into the walls behind them, splintering the ramparts. Stepping forward, Grimmjow's grin was wild and arrogant, yet held a hint of sedated contentment liken to an animal that had just had its way with his prey.
"Someone call for me?" With his clothes torn and bloody, Grimmjow walked forward like he owned the room, nearly causing Nnoitra to scowl.
"Where the fuck have you been?" he asked with a type of caustic casualness.
"Around," Grimmjow answered.
"Yeah, well, don't look now, but you've been replaced again."
Grimmjow's hackles literally raised as his seething eyes shot over to his seat where Nnoitra was lazily pointing, only to stop short at seeing Orihime standing near his chair wearing a new uniform and a worried expression. "Princess!" He suddenly grinned wickedly and approached her. "My, my," he began as he slowly circled her stiff figure, carefully examining her new attire and her bare shoulders before lowering his voice intently. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he whispered near her ear as he leaned down to take a deep whiff of her skin, just shy of the nape of her neck.
Orihime felt her cheeks both blanche and blush at once as she immediately turned her face away from his when he came around and stood a little too close for comfort.
As if something foul and offending had affronted his senses, Grimmjow's eyebrows suddenly narrowed before diverting his focus to the man sitting across the table from her. "Too bad you're already starting to smell like that prick." He glared and allowed his frown to deepen after receiving nothing more in return from Ulquiorra than the usual empty stare. "So, anyone wanna tell me what all the pissy faces are about?" he asked abruptly as he pulled his seat out and leaned back in it enough to cross his feet on the table in a very relaxed and somewhat disrespectful manner, much the same as Nnoitra had done.
"Nobody wants to keep Lord Aizen's new pet," Nnoitra informed offhandedly before his eyes fell over her body once more. "I say keep her around, she's nice enough to look at, anyways."
Aizen closed his eyes and rhythmically tapped the roll of paper against the table repeatedly as he listened to his subordinates continue to discuss the affair amongst themselves, finding it highly amusing that they still believed they actually had a say in the matter.
"Fuck yeah we keep her," Grimmjow stated loudly. "The bitch brought my arm back."
Several eyes widened in the room at the announcement and a hush slipped over the table as one by one, Orihime could feel each of their stares grazing over her, trying to reason out how such a monumental task had been accomplished by such a seemingly normal girl.
"She was the one that did that?" Nnoitra questioned skeptically.
"Fascinating…" Szayel breathed and adjusted his glasses to get a better look. The man couldn't seem to take his eyes off her, completely transfixed as he was.
"Where the fuck did you think it came from?" Grimmjow scoffed. "That I just grew it back?" The man rolled his eyes to the side at their ignorance as he scratched the back of his head.
"I don't believe it." A firm voice suddenly broke the stupor that had fallen over the room.
"And just what don't you believe?" Grimmjow asked as he eyed the ebony skinned man seated stiffly next to him.
"I refuse to believe it until I see it," Zommari reiterated. "No mere human could have such advanced power…and for her to do so would be an offense to Lord Aizen even if she did." He continued to stare straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact with such an individual as lowly as Grimmjow.
"My dear friends," when he finally spoke up, Aizen's voice split through the conflicting arguments like a knife, silencing each of them in an instant. "Do you truly believe me to be such an arrogant and uncaring ruler that I would demand you to put unquestioning faith in this girl without first providing evidence of her worthiness?" From beside him, Gin smiled at their foolishness. "Out of the understanding of my heart, this is the reason I have gone through the trouble of preparing a presentation for you to witness her strength firsthand and erase all doubt." As he said this, a pair of Arrancar entered through the open doorway into the room, escorting a single male Arrancar of unknown origins.
Orihime gasped when they got closer, however, as she quickly recognized the Hollow as the mute man that brought her trays of food on a regular basis. His pinstriped suit and Hollow mask were unmistakable.
"What are you going to do to him?" she demanded as she whipped her head around to glare at Aizen in a manner that was at once both pleading and unyielding.
"Nothing much, really," Aizen explained. "We are merely going to remove a few body parts for you to regenerate. You will do this for me, won't you…Orihime?" he asked smoothly. Suddenly she had a terrifying flashback to the morning when he'd shown her the Hogyoku, the way his voice had been soft and sweet, but positively dripping with danger.
Looking at the male before her in shackles, Orihime slowly shook her head as she took a step away from him, trying to create some distance. He was shaking with his head hanging low and his wrists bound behind his back. "I won't…I won't do it," she said quietly as pure trepidation filled her eyes. She wanted to put more space between them, because she knew they were going to make her do it…and they were going to make her watch.
When the two guards shoved the Hollow forward, bending him over the edge of the table to slam him face first onto the slab, Orihime nearly screamed in protest at seeing the men drawing their blades to dismember him.
It was like Luppi all over again. Have her heal one thing just so they could destroy another. Only this time, she didn't want to just sit idly by.
"Please!" she suddenly cried, turning on her heel to rush to Aizen's side. "I'll do anything…you don't have to do this!" At the same time, she called on her Santen Kesshun and erected a shield around the man, a meager defense in a room where she was surrounded by literal monsters stronger than she could ever imagine.
When the shield was broken and shattered away without much effort, Orihime considered erecting another one, but she knew it would be futile. Hardening her nerves, the girl pressed her lips together tightly before steeling herself for what she was about to do.
"Please…" she said as she knelt beside him and pressed her tearstained cheek to his forearm in an immensely crushing display of humiliation, leaving the room speechless. "Please…" she implored deeply as her hands squeezed the arm of his chair tightly. It felt disgraceful and wrong, but her pride wasn't worth it, not for something like this, not when she lacked the strength her friends possessed, a type of strength that would have allowed her the power to spare that man and her pride.
Just because she could heal things didn't mean that they should be mutilated into oblivion for the thrill of watching her piece them back together.
"Don't cry, my dear," Aizen soothed softly as he reached over to pet her head gently. Orihime felt sick. "It's not as if we're going to kill him…" he said as his eyes glanced up to the man seated next to him. "…right, Ulquiorra?" He smiled wickedly.
"But…it's so cruel," she whispered despairingly and looked up at him with watery eyes, brought on by frustration and inner conflict. "Please don't hurt him, I couldn't bear it."
"Perhaps…" he indirectly agreed. "But you did promise to help me, did you not?" His eyes held not an ounce of mercy or compassion and Orihime felt her heart sink even lower than what it already was.
"Then cut off my arms, instead," she said and even felt her own stomach flip at the very notion of such a thing.
"Hey, princess," Grimmjow said roughly. He did well to hide his shock at her proposition. "Don't be so melodramatic. Just fucking do it and get it over with. He's just some weak servant, it's not like he matters."
"I won't," she said as she lowered her face in an attempt to prevent them from viewing any more of her tears. "Even if you harm him, I won't help you, not unless you cut off my arms, as well," she replied in a deep, determined tone as she was finally able to regain some of her strength.
Grimmjow frowned as he looked at her, his brow furrowing at her selfless behavior.
"My Lord, if I may…" Ulquiorra spoke up just then, gaining his master's attention. "Perhaps we should substitute myself, instead." Orihime's eyes bolted upwards to him the moment the words left his lips. "If it will hasten along the process, as well as silence her complaints in knowing the subject is willing, it is an equally logical choice." His voice remained steady as he proposed his thoughts, as if he hadn't just volunteered to mutilate himself.
"How very noble of you, Ulquiorra." Aizen's smile positively glowed. "And such a smart suggestion."
"Of course, My Lord," he replied calmly, his eyes sliding closed. "However, it is less to do with chivalry and more with rationale. I believe it would be unwise to allow the woman to harm herself, as it is unknown how it will affect her, let alone if she is even capable of using her powers on herself. It may render her completely useless if you allow her to damage herself in such a worthless manner."
"I must say," Aizen said as he leaned into his palm again. "You do always find a way around my plans, Ulquiorra." He smirked as he waved the guards away dismissively, wordlessly ordering them to remove the mute Hollow. "Sometimes it concerns me how clever you are."
Ulquiorra knew better than to take that as a compliment. He knew exactly that Aizen expected this of him the moment he looked Ulquiorra in the eyes when the woman started protesting. Aizen knew she would start causing a scene, and he expected Ulquiorra to do something about it.
"I object!" Nnoitra bellowed and slammed his fist onto the table angrily. "I've heard rumors that bastard can regenerate his whole fucking body faster than a goddamned cephalopod!" he protested. "I don't trust it, this reeks of a setup."
"Is that so, Nnoitra?" Aizen inquired and placed his hand back against Orihime's head to softly pet her hair, making her squirm and want to move away from him. "Or perhaps it is just that you wish to see our sweet Orihime here suffer through more appalling misery than necessary?" Nnoitra was a little taken back by the twinkle lighting Aizen's eyes, but he stood his ground.
"I couldn't give a damn if she cried until her eyes shriveled up into fucking raisins," he said as he suddenly gestured down the table towards Ulquiorra. "How the hell am I supposed to know that fucker isn't pulling the wool over our eyes?" He prodded tauntingly at the pale man, only to be ignored.
"You do bring forward a sensible point, Nnoitra," Aizen praised. "However, if she truly is nothing more than a plain mortal girl, then would you rather volunteer?" he questioned. "Certainly, you would gladly offer up your own arm to preserve my integrity."
Nnoitra's toothy grin quickly fell as he looked away, seceding any further argument.
"If there are no additional protests…" Aizen trailed off and deliberately left a moment of silence to hang in an indisputable manner to let the table know he would not accept any more objections that would waste his time. "Then please, proceed." He nodded his head slowly to the man beside him, urging him to move forward with the demonstration that had been previously disrupted.
Orihime pushed herself to her feet as she watched her warden stand and make his way around the corner of the table to her side. She felt her stomach flip again simply at the thought of watching a man being dismembered in any manner, willingly or not. If she couldn't stand the image of such a thing in her mind, Orihime wasn't sure whether she was going to be able to tolerate witnessing it firsthand. She still hadn't forgotten the image of Luppi's corpse on her first night there.
The girl mentally shook herself back to reality.
She'd seen terrible wounds before and had even received a few painful injuries herself. This would be no different.
"Ulquiorra," Aizen's voice intervened as Ulquiorra's hand began to reach for his sword. "I do hate to see a good uniform go to waste…" he said as he observed the pale man from the corner of his eye, and Ulquiorra complied.
"I…I wish you wouldn't do this to yourself," Orihime whispered nervously and watched his hand move from his sword to the zipper of his jacket. Her hands shook slightly as she clasped them together tightly and began picking at her nails feverishly when he didn't respond. Was he really going to do the deed himself? At least have one of the others…
When Ulquiorra pulled down the zipper and removed his pristine white coat, Orihime felt a blush rising on her cheeks despite herself and quickly glanced away. "I'm sorry if it hurts…" she muttered as he tossed the clothing onto the table, completely ignoring her apologetic words as he pulled out his sword. "This is all my fault, I shouldn't have-"
Orihime made a grave noise of distress in the back of her throat as he suddenly sliced off his arm, pushing the blade upwards from his underarm in a single, swift motion.
And just like that, with a moist thunk his severed arm landed on the floor and rolled a bit before stopping. It lay discarded on the white tiles, a small pool of red spreading out from the top.
Orihime's whole body trembled as her watery eyes looked up into his in disbelief. She opened her mouth and then abruptly shut it, shocked at his complete and utter lack of response to an action that should have called for horrific pain. He was entirely blasé. His callous behavior towards the matter had stunned her and her eyes slowly wandered back down to his shoulder where more and more blood was beginning to pour out from the self-inflicted wound.
"Woman." The stern firmness of his voice instantly broke her from her daze, and the grit of his teeth alluded to the fact that perhaps it wasn't as pain free as he played it off as. Without another thought, Orihime brought her hands forward and called out her Shun Shun Rikka.
"Soten Kisshun," she said softly. "I reject." The familiar feeling of voicing the incantation helped to focus her and she stared curiously at his calm face as the glittering golden glow wrapped around his shoulder and extended down his torso. His eyes were closed and he was quiet as he patiently waited for her to finish, appearing very composed aside from the tiny crease between his eyebrows.
"How very interesting." Orihime jerked slightly when she heard the voice so close behind her. She turned to see the bespectacled, rosette haired man examining her every move. When he had gotten so close to her, she was uncertain, but she redoubled her efforts to concentrate on her task as he continued to lean in and scrutinize the method in which she was working. "Just what kind of power is this, Lord Aizen?" he asked inquisitively even as he persisted in his observations. "It must be some form of spatial replication or alteration."
"Ulquiorra had a similar theory." Aizen chuckled. "However, it is a far greater power. It is event rejection," he stated and was undoubtedly pleased to see some of the disbelieving looks his Espada were giving him. "Most of her abilities are actually very similar to Kido, but much more rare and advanced. It is very complex." His words caught Orihime's attention. Even she was curious of the origin of her powers and could recall that Hachi had been quite proficient at Kido. Were her powers like his? "Because of this, that is why this specific aspect of her power that you now see before you, is what makes her so wonderful…and worthy enough to bargain a nation's security with." As Aizen's words spread through the room in a smooth baritone, Orihime watched as the last of Ulquiorra's arm slowly came together, his fingers swiftly reforming and bringing about an end to the process.
"There," she said as the glow of her fairies faded before retreating back into their respective ornaments nestled in her hair. "It's all done now, how does it feel?" she asked as she looked up to his impassive face, searching his features for any sign of emotion, be it pain, relief, gratitude, she simply wanted to see something.
"It is sufficient," he said as he leaned past her to reach for his jacket, making her avert her eyes and blush even harder as his bare chest nearly brushed hers. She had been trying not to look, but with him so close she was rather amazed to see he was far more muscular than she had originally thought. With each band of muscle appearing as if they were so tightly wound under his skin, she feared they may snap.
"My Lord, I must have her," Szayel implored enthusiastically. "You must give her to me," he said as Orihime dazedly watched Ulquiorra turn away from her whilst sliding his jacket back up his shoulders.
"Bullshit!" Nnoitra suddenly exclaimed, nearly making Orihime jump as she was unused to such abrupt and coarse outbursts. "If anybody gets the bitch, it's going to be me. I'm the only one at this table that'd actually know how to show her a good time," he jeered and motioned to her in an utterly debauching manner, making the blush on Orihime's face quickly spread to the roots of her hair at the debasing motion he'd made with his tongue and fingers.
"There is nothing that would please me more than to give her to both of you." Aizen smiled, lying through his teeth. "But I must confess, I have already given her to Ulquiorra to watch-"
"Of fucking course," Nnoitra groused under his breath.
"-and she has grown rather fond of him so quickly. I couldn't bear to take her from him now. It would be so cruel." His eyebrow arched charmingly and Grimmjow scoffed from beside him. "However, I'm sure Ulquiorra would never be as selfish as to keep her all to himself, would you?" he said as he turned his attention to the man.
"Of course not, My Lord," Ulquiorra answered placidly as he took his seat at the table once more, zipping his jacket up in the process and sounding like he could care less.
"See?" Aizen stated pleasantly. "I have no doubts in my mind that Ulquiorra will be more than willing to share her company. In fact, why don't we simply schedule an appointment for you to take her to Szayel's laboratory as soon as the week is through?" Aizen suggested as if it was just a grand idea. This, of course, had prompted an unrestrained grin to grow on Szayel's face.
"If that is what you wish, My Lord," Szayel said with measured control as he held his hands close and slowly drummed his fingers together as if he were plotting some heinous misdeed to humanity. It left Orihime feeling apprehensive and leery.
"Good, then it is settled," Aizen announced as he gracefully stood from his chair. "Now, if there are no more reservations about our guest…" Once again, he left a deliberate pause to ensure there were no unwelcome objections. "…our meeting is adjourned," he decreed and watched as the party of Espada began to rise from their seats. "Before you leave, however, I feel compelled to remind each of you that if a single hair is harmed on my dear Orihime's head…you will have far more to worry about than a simple demotion," he warned gravely. "That is all."
As the occupants began to scatter and the commotion started to settle down, Aizen leaned back in his chair and reached forward to wrap his fingers around the handle of a delicate porcelain tea cup. His eyes watched amusedly as Orihime instinctually, and most probably unconsciously, made her way to Ulquiorra to be led back to her room. Instead of returning to Gin, the one who'd brought her to begin with, she went straight to her warden.
It was rather amazing to witness how quickly humans could become attached…and with so little prompting, too.
"One minute, Ulquiorra," Aizen called and gestured for him to return when both he and Orihime turned to glance at him over their shoulder. "If I could have a moment of your time?"
Orihime waited in place as she watched him silently return to the table, folding her hands in front of her as she glanced at the floor to examine a small tarnish that had scarred the polish of the tiling. "Gin, please return Orihime to her room for me," he requested.
The silver haired man smiled at Ulquiorra as he quickly acquiesced to Aizen's request and gave him a small, but rather flaunty, single armed bow. "Of course, I would be most pleased to accompany the lady," he stated a little too impishly. His sarcasm was thick and yet it was present in a manner that was not openly offensive or clownish. Gin stared down the pale man that stood at the edge of the table, patiently awaiting his orders with his hands buried in his pockets, causing Gin to smile even more wickedly than usual as he passed him by. "Don't worry, Cuatro-san," he assured in a tone that very much sounded like false comfort. "I'll take good care of her," he jabbed, taking utter delight in Ulquiorra's unrelenting aloofness. Gin knew, to even suggest that the fourth Espada cared about her well-being, was the real taunt in his statement.
"Thank you, Gin," Aizen said with the faintest hint of a drawl in his voice. He was always amused with the persistent man's inexorable and laborious efforts to get under Ulquiorra's skin, as well as many of his other Espada, just for the sake of a fleeting thrill.
As Gin disappeared with Orihime out the door and their footsteps faded into echoes on the walls, Aizen glanced up at Ulquiorra affably and sighed. "What a tiresome group, they are," he mused without much grievance in his voice. "Would you like a cup of tea, Ulquiorra?" Aizen offered as he leaned forward to begin writing something on a blank sheet of high quality letterhead.
"No, My Lord," he answered and cut straight to the point. "Do you intend to accept the armistice proposed by Soul Society?"
"For the time being," he replied as he dipped the tip of his pen into a pot of ink before continuing to write. "I am quite intrigued by their idea of an armistice, though it is not what I was fully expecting. However, it is a much better solution than what I originally had in mind…and what do you think, Ulquiorra?" Aizen queried as he leaned his temple against his forefinger and gauged the pale man. "What are your thoughts on this temporary contract?"
"I believe it is a sensible move…on both parts."
"Good." Aizen smiled. "I can always depend on you to have such shrewd judgment, Ulquiorra," he said as he set his pen down and began to roll the parchment up loosely. "I need you to deliver this for me."
"Whom will I be delivering it to in Soul Society?"
"Unfortunately, Soul Society is not an available option at the moment. It will be too troublesome for you to try and break through its walls just to send them a message, especially with their tightened security patrolling all sectors of the Seireitei." Aizen ran his forefinger contemplatively over his bottom lip and took a moment to reflect on the matter. "It is better to carry out this business on neutral ground," he explained as he held out the parchment for Ulquiorra to take. "This must be delivered to an individual capable of mediating between both worlds…someone who is at once impartial and delegated."
Ulquiorra reached forward and took the papers.
"I want you to deliver this to Ichigo Kurosaki."
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TBC
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