This is the ORIGINAL Miniature Murcielago story that had been started in 2010. This story is being completely revamped. I have the last chapter written, but I cannot bring myself to post it. I started this when I was 14, I am now 27. My writing from then and now are completely different, and that was partly why it was so hard to keep it going. I am now determined to get all of this out in the way I am happy with. New chapters will be updated and the story will be slightly different, but still the same idea. If any of you remember this story and still want the original, the old one will exist on deviantart. But on and AO3, it's going to get be redone. I promise it will not take me as long to finish
"I'm not scared."
Those were the words she uttered, and they resonated deeply within Ulquiorra's being.
He had reached out to her, fully expecting her to recoil in fear. But to his astonishment, she had reached back, bridging the gap between them. In that moment, a strange fluttering sensation coursed through his veins, something he had never experienced before.
He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay with her.
Everything started to fall into place, the pieces of a puzzle clicking together with startling clarity. His relentless drive to bring her to Hueco Mundo, his incessant questioning of her heart, his inexplicable need to be near her. Even the audacity of sleeping in her room when he was supposed to be guarding her. The seething jealousy and anger that consumed him when Grimmjow dared to lay a hand on her.
All this time, he had believed that he fought Ichigo solely for the sake of Aizen's orders. But now, the truth became apparent. He was no longer a pawn blindly following Aizen's commands. He fought because of her.
He wanted to keep her by his side.
As his vision blurred and darkness encroached upon his senses, the last image he beheld was that of the woman shedding tears for him. Ulquiorra couldn't fathom why she would cry for him, after all he had done.
In those fleeting moments before his chest would inevitably crumble to ash, a pain gnawed at his chest, surpassing any physical injury he had ever endured. Whatever it was, she was the wellspring of it all.
Enveloped in darkness, a void that should have brought him solace, he closed his eyes and surrendered to its embrace. This was where he belonged.
Yet, before his entire being could fully immerse itself in that realm, he sensed a force pulling him away, a force unbeknownst to Ulquiorra. When he opened his eyes once more, he found himself no longer in darkness. Instead, all he could see was sand—sand stretching out in every direction, completely engulfing him.
His head snapped up at the sound of the Shinigami's voice. "That's another one down, I'm off!"
"Wait, Ichigo!" It was her, the familiar voice of that woman. "Let me heal you first!"
But the Shinigami departed before she could reach him.
Ulquiorra was bewildered. Was this real? As he looked up, his gaze fell upon an opening that revealed the vast expanse of the sky. He recognized it, the familiar sight of the moon casting its ethereal glow upon him.
He was still in Hueco Mundo, trapped within the shifting sands. How did any of this make sense?
Before he could even contemplate his escape, the light above him darkened. In an instant, he was slammed forcefully into the ground, his face buried in the unforgiving sand.
Someone had stepped on him.
He grunted in pain, his body pinned beneath an immense weight.
The pressure upon him lifted as suddenly as it had descended.
When he raised his eyes, he found himself face to face with a woman, her expression one of mortification. She towered over him like a giant, and it dawned on him how small and insignificant he appeared in comparison.
"U... Ulquiorra?" she stammered, her gaze filled with both surprise and concern.
His eyes widened at the sight of her, realization dawning upon him. Orihime, it was Orihime who stood before him.
"What is that?" came the voice of the Quincy, Uryu. Ulquiorra could feel the vibrations of his steps drawing near.
"Uryu, wait, that's..." Orihime's words trailed off, interrupted by the events that unfolded.
Once again, Ulquiorra's was crushed into the sand, the air forcibly expelled from his lungs. It felt as if his wings would snap under the sheer force, far stronger than the previous blow.
"Get off!" Ulquiorra demanded, his voice reduced to muffled sounds beneath the weight of the humans above him.
"Uryu, stop! You're hurting him!" Orihime's voice rang out again, filled with concern.
Instantly, the pressure on Ulquiorra's fragile form was released, and he felt the touch of delicate hands enveloping him. He curled up in a fetal position in Orihime's palms, his arms shielding his face and his wings wrapped around him like a protective blanket. His disheveled hair and bruised upper body showed the aftermath of the ordeal.
As the pain registered in his consciousness, Ulquiorra couldn't help but feel perplexed. How could something like this penetrate his hierro and cause him injury? And why was he unable to utilize his regenerative abilities to heal such a seemingly trivial wound?
His eyes snapped open, and he found himself face to face with giant silver orbs. Startled, he jerked back in surprise, momentarily forgetting his pain.
Orihime had brought the tiny bat closer to her face, examining him with disbelief. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. The same Ulquiorra who had fiercely battled Ichigo, who had saved her from Ichigo's hollow form, and who had reached out to her just moments ago, now lay defenseless in the palm of her hand.
Their gazes remained locked until Uryu's exclamation interrupted the moment. "What the hell is that?!" he shouted, breaking the spell.
Orihime jumped in surprise, accidentally dropping Ulquiorra back into the very same hole from which he had emerged. Caught off guard, he couldn't spread his wings quickly enough to soften the impact.
Once again, Ulquiorra found himself face-first in the sand.
This time, instead of Orihime's gentle touch, it was Uryu who reached down and lifted Ulquiorra by a single wing, causing the rest of his tiny form to dangle helplessly.
Orihime watched in awe as the small Ulquiorra hung from Uryu's grip. She couldn't help but think that he was...
Well, there was no denying it.
He was undeniably...
...cute.
Her face immediately flushed a deep shade of red at the absurdity of the situation. The fact that her former captor, who was once a fearsome presence, had now transformed into a cute, tiny creature that could fit in the palm of her hand was simply too much to handle. The sheer ridiculousness of it sent her into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
Ulquiorra and Uryu exchanged confused glances, both at a loss for words as they observed Orihime's spectacle with incredulity. Completely besides themselves at how ridiculous they also looked.
Orihime's laughter intensified, her stomach cramping from the sheer joy of it all. She clutched her abdomen with one hand while seeking support from Uryu's arm with the other. Tears stained her eyes as her laughter seemed unending.
"Okay, okay..." she managed to utter, attempting to regain control. She closed her eyes and took several deep, heavy breaths in an effort to compose herself.
But as soon as her eyes reopened and landed on the sight of Ulquiorra still dangling helplessly from Uryu's hand, the laughter burst forth once more, even stronger than before.
Ulquiorra felt a deep sense of humiliation wash over him. This was his reality now—utter humiliation in the face of Orihime's uncontrollable laughter. It was a true test of his patience and composure.
"I fail to see the humor in this," he deadpanned, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.
Orihime struggled to contain her laughter, covering her mouth as she attempted to stifle the outbursts. Her entire face turned crimson, and tears continued to stream down her cheeks.
In spite of the absurdity and embarrassment, Ulquiorra managed to maintain his usual cool and composed demeanor. Orihime couldn't help but find it impressive, even in the midst of this comical situation.
This was the first time she had laughed so freely in a long while, and it was also the first time Ulquiorra had witnessed it. During their time together, she had never shared that side of herself with him. The closest he had come was when she treated him kindly after he had fallen asleep in her room.
Even then, he had considered her quite lovely.
But now, witnessing Orihime's lively and vibrant nature, Ulquiorra couldn't help but feel drawn to her, despite his current disgraceful and diminutive state.
Realizing that it would be a while before Orihime could compose herself and form a coherent sentence, Uryu redirected his attention back to the arrancar in his hand—quite literally. He gently enclosed his other hand around Ulquiorra's tiny form, pulling him closer and releasing his grip on his wing.
Ulquiorra was taken aback by the sight of his reflection in Uryu's glasses. It was an unexpected image, one that added to the surrealness of the situation.
"Care to explain?" Uryu scrutinized him suspiciously, his blue eyes piercing.
Ulquiorra's gaze hardened as he met Uryu's intense stare head-on. His wings were tightly clasped within his own grasp, and he couldn't help but feel a discomforting sensation when he sensed the quincy's fingertips twitching against his small torso.
Anger seethed within Ulquiorra, fueled by the realization that the once formidable Cuatro Espada had been reduced to such a state. However, amidst his fury, he recalled a piece of knowledge he had acquired long ago.
During his time in Las Noches, he had often found solace within the confines of the library. It was there that he stumbled upon an intriguing theory—a rare phenomenon where an arrancar's physical form would undergo fluctuations at the precipice of death. Something would intervene, pulling them back from the brink, just as it had done for Ulquiorra.
The reason for these fluctuations in size was that the arrancar's physical soul could no longer sustain its existence. They were never meant to be present in the living world in that state. Consequently, their remaining essence could only manifest through a smaller, condensed form of their former selves.
This was an attempt, albeit an uncertain one, to anchor themselves back into the world, to seize another chance at life. Whether it was a cruel cosmic jest or a part of Aizen or Urahara's plan when developing the Hōgyoku, Ulquiorra couldn't ascertain. The true intentions behind this enigmatic transformation remained unknown to him.
But from this, Ulquiorra understood that such a phenomenon occurred solely when an arrancar stood at the precipice of death, their very existence teetering on the edge. It required an experience of intense inner turmoil or realization that shook them to their core, capable of surpassing the barriers of death itself and pulling them back.
Yet, the enigma lay in the requirement for reciprocation. Whatever being or encounter caused this disruption within the arrancar's mind and emotional being must be reciprocated in turn. This aspect had puzzled Ulquiorra. What kind of event could possibly transpire in the midst of a battle, within the chaos of a war, that could stir such profound emotions within hollows? The theory seemed flawed, lacking a satisfactory explanation.
However, a realization dawned upon Ulquiorra.
He began to comprehend the significance behind the woman's words regarding bonds and the human heart. He recalled his own wish to remain with her, his reluctance to depart. It was at that precise moment, when that sentiment emerged, that he was pulled back from the brink of annihilation, only to find himself weakened and confined to this diminutive form.
With this theory taking shape in his mind, it became clear that if Ulquiorra had developed a genuine affection for the human girl, and if his soul had latched onto that connection, then the key to returning to his former self resided in her reciprocating those very feelings.
However, articulating the exact nature of his feelings for her eluded Ulquiorra. He struggled to find the precise words to describe the depth and complexity of what he had experienced. All he knew was an undeniable desire to be by her side, an unwillingness to part from her, and a growing realization that the concept of the heart, as it related to her, held a significance he had once dismissed as absurd.
But in what manner did he truly want her? Initially, he believed it was a possessive desire to claim her as his own, even against her will. However, on the verge of losing everything, he discovered it was far more profound than mere ownership.
Thus, whatever this enigmatic force within the realm of hearts, bonds, and humanity was, beyond acknowledging the bond he had formed with her, he needed her to reciprocate it.
Only then would Ulquiorra be granted the opportunity to reclaim his former self.
Was it a cruel twist of fate or a second chance bestowed upon him?
Ulquiorra honestly couldn't say. He found himself in a situation he had once derided as nonsensical, unable to comprehend the profound irony of his present circumstances.
Yet, there he stood.
To worsen matters, there was a crucial detail within the pages he had studied.
Due to his near nonexistence, the stabilization of his current form would be temporary, lasting for a mere span of approximately ten days from the moment of their assumed demise.
Here stood Ulquiorra, a being devoid of emotions and substance, who had yearned for something unattainable, now faced with the daunting prospect of earning it through a cruel and absurd twist of fate.
The question now loomed before Ulquiorra...
Did he truly desire the woman to reciprocate the affection he had developed for her?
Or was he content with surrendering to the void that was intended for him?
His gaze shifted from the quincy to the girl who was gradually recovering from her fit of laughter.
In that instant, Ulquiorra swiftly reached a conclusion.
He would claim her as his own.
After a brief moment of silence, Uryu grew increasingly frustrated with the uncooperative bat. He was starting to lose his patience.
"Did you hear me?" Uryu demanded, his tone laced with annoyance.
Ulquiorra, breaking free from his thoughts, turned his piercing gaze towards the quincy. Uryu couldn't help but feel a sense of indignation from the tiny arrancar. How dare he give him such a look, considering his current predicament.
"I know just as much as you do," Ulquiorra lied, his voice dripping with insincerity. There was no way he was going to reveal that his newfound revelation for the girl had resulted in this current pitiful form. It was a notion even he struggled to accept.
Uryu let out an exasperated sigh and removed the arrancar from his face, shrugging dismissively. "I suppose I expected too much from you," he muttered, his frustration evident.
Unfortunately, in the midst of his shrug, Uryu failed to realize that he still had the bat in his hand. This caused Ulquiorra to experience an overwhelming wave of nausea, a testament to his weakened state.
Uryu shifted his attention towards Orihime, relieved to see that she had regained her composure. Her gaze was fixed on Ulquiorra, her hands still delicately covering her mouth in astonishment.
She had hoped that Ulquiorra possessed some vital information, but it seemed that he was as clueless as the rest of them.
Taking a step closer to them, Orihime lowered her gaze towards the tiny bat in Uryu's hand. Ulquiorra appeared visibly upset, and she recognized that look all too well.
"What should we do with him, Orihime?" Uryu inquired, adjusting his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He extended his free hand towards her.
Orihime swiftly positioned her hands beneath Uryu's, anticipating the moment he released his grip. She cradled the little bat against her chest, contemplating their next move.
"Would it be terrible if I... wanted to keep him?" she pondered aloud, her eyes fixed on Ulquiorra as he sat perfectly in her hands.
Uryu's face contorted into a stupefied expression, surpassing any reaction he would have had when confronted with Ichigo's antics.
"Orihime, I don't believe that's a viable option," Uryu responded, furrowing his eyebrows in concern.
"Why not?" Orihime pouted, lifting the arrancar closer to her face. She pressed him gently against her cheek, tenderly rubbing against him as if he were a beloved pet.
Uryu's astonishment only intensified as he observed this display.
"He... works for Aizen, Orihime." he stated, his disbelief evident. He was taken aback by the girl's naivety.
"Isn't this the same hollow who kidnapped you and just attempted to kill Ichigo moments ago?" Uryu continued, attempting to reason with her.
While Uryu's arguments made perfect sense, Ulquiorra found himself utterly unable to form a counterargument, given that Orihime was currently rubbing her cheek fervently against his tiny form.
Ulquiorra seethed inwardly at the way Orihime held him. Despite his reduced stature of a mere six inches he was the fourth Espada, for crying out loud! Regardless of any sentiments he may have harbored for her, he demanded the utmost respect, this was no exception.
Orihime's gaze softened upon hearing Uryu's response, prompting her to gradually cease showering her former captor with affection. She pulled Ulquiorra away, gripping his body firmly beneath his shoulders while the rest of him dangled, resembling how one would hold a baby.
Ulquiorra's expression grew even more sour.
Lost in contemplation, Orihime stared at the arrancar in her hands, and he returned her gaze.
She recalled the sorrowful look that had adorned his face a few minutes ago when she believed he was on the verge of vanishing forever. In that moment, he had appeared so crestfallen, and she had shed tears for him.
Orihime understood that her friends couldn't comprehend the reasons behind her emotional investment. After Ulquiorra faded away, she mustered her strength, wiped her tears, and put on a brave face, recognizing that there was little else she could do.
Yet, she acknowledged the existence of an undeniable tension between them. Something intangible lingered, eluding her grasp. It felt as though Ulquiorra possessed the ability to peer directly into her soul whenever their eyes locked, surpassing the understanding of even her closest friends.
It was as if he could perceive her innermost depths better than anyone else, despite being so distant and detached from comprehending the intricacies of her heart.
Ulquiorra had always viewed such concepts as beneath him, and something he wanted no part in. It pained Orihime to know that he probably never could understand it.
Despite the fact that Ulquiorra had killed her high school crush, twice, Orihime didn't hate him. He had never hurt her even when he had the opportunity to do so on multiple occasions. Even though he was harsh towards her when questioning her beliefs, Orihime believed deep down that it was his way of attempting to understand her.
Whether that was his intention or not was beside the point. Orihime was sure that when he reached out to her, he may have begun to understand, even just a little.
A part of her wondered if Ulquiorra had felt the same tension and confusion between them that she felt, but when he faded away, she realized she would never know.
However, in the whirlwind of events, Orihime never anticipated encountering Ulquiorra in such a vulnerable state, mere moments later.
"Ulquiorra... what do you think?" she asked, tilting her head to the side, allowing a few strands of hair to cascade over her bare shoulders, their disarray a testament to the chaos surrounding them.
Ulquiorra pressed his tinted lips together, taking a moment to regain his composure. His tail flickered subtly beneath him, a silent reflection of his inner turmoil.
"I am no longer of use to Aizen. Once he discovers my failure to eliminate Ichigo, he will discard me." He admitted, his words tinged with resignation.
Though his statement held undeniable truth, Ulquiorra understood that if he harbored any hope of having Orihime for himself, he must seize the opportunity.
"If you choose to dispose of me, you will only make Aizen's task easier. As you can see, I am in no condition to engage in combat," he confessed, unsure if those words were the best course of action.
"So, you mean you won't fight us anymore?" Orihime chirped, her voice brimming with hope.
A glimmer of optimism sparked within her as she sensed progress being made.
"I will not," he answered.
Orihime breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at Uryu with eyes filled with hope, silently seeking his approval.
Uryu raised his eyebrow at Ulquiorra's response. This was the same man who had just ripped his arm off, but thankfully, Orihime had healed him prior.
"I don't know if that's the best thing, Orihime," Uryu sighed. "Plus, it's out of our hands. We should just leave him here."
Orihime widened her eyes at his suggestion, "We can't! He'll die out here! He's defenseless like this, right Ulquiorra?" She turned to him for agreement.
Ulquiorra was irritated by her condescending attitude.
"Woman, no matter my circumstance, I am not defenseless," he asserted, trying to prove himself. He needed to get out of this position.
Before he could, Uryu interrupted, "You hear that, Orihime? He'll be fine. He's a hollow, this is Hueco Mundo. There's no way he could come with u-"
Uryu's sentence trailed off as he watched in shock as Ulquiorra crawled up Orihime's arm.
"Ulqui-wait! Haha! That tickles!" Orihime exclaimed, feeling the sensation of Ulquiorra's small talons crawling up her skin, reaching her shoulders.
Ulquiorra had managed to reach the crevice of her neck and was trying to find his balance when Orihime abruptly tensed up her shoulders. In an attempt to stop the tickling, she jerked her head to the side.
Unfortunately, this sudden movement caused Ulquiorra to get squished uncomfortably between her neck and shoulder.
"Woman, stop!" Ulquiorra mustered all his strength to push her neck away, but his efforts proved futile. The touch of his small talons against her neck only made Orihime press against him with greater force.
"Ulqui-Ulqui-NOoOO sTopp! HEHEHE!" she shouted, caught between laughter and protest.
Ulquiorra struggled to catch his breath, his eyes bulging in disbelief. He silently counted his blessings as the weight upon him lessened when Orihime finally managed to calm down. Cautiously, he refrained from moving a muscle, fearing a repeat of the previous ordeal.
Orihime, her hand covering her mouth, fought to suppress her giggles. Though her neck was still inclined towards Ulquiorra, it no longer threatened to crush him. Her eyes welled up with tears, and her cheeks flushed crimson from the ticklish sensation of his fur against her neck.
Remaining frozen in place, Ulquiorra kept his arms pressed against her, ready to defend against any further unexpected movements. Meanwhile, strands of Orihime's hair had cascaded over her shoulders, completely enveloping the small bat-like creature.
Uryu stood in utter disbelief, his eyes fixed on the bizarre scene before him.
Despite Ulquiorra's current predicament, he found himself captivated by the intoxicating scent emanating from the woman. The softness of her hair against his body was a sensation he had never anticipated.
In the past, he had entertained fleeting thoughts about what it would feel like to run his fingers through those strands. However, he had always dismissed such musings as mere curiosity, relegating them to the realm of idle contemplation.
Now, with his miniature form nestled against her neck, Ulquiorra couldn't help but feel a surge of tension. If he were of normal size, he would have eagerly buried his face in the warmth of her neck, creating an experience that he could control and savor on his own terms.
Regrettably, that was not the case at the moment.
"Woman, should you try that stunt again-"
His words trailed off as her fingers brushed aside her hair then gently stroked his head, cautious of his horns.
Ulquiorra's eyes snapped open, completely mesmerized by the unexpected touch. A strange sensation stirred in his gut as the woman continued to caress him, running her fingers through his hair, down his shoulders, and all the way to his feet. She repeated the motion, eliciting a deep purr from the depths of his throat. No one had ever touched him like this, he would never allow such a thing, but when it came to her…
Orihime's expression softened, a wide smile lighting up her face as Ulquiorra allowed her to touch him in such an intimate way. His eyes rolled back in pure bliss as her scent and gentle touch enveloped him. He didn't dare speak, fearing that any words might break the spell and cause her to stop. He didn't want her to stop. In his mind, flashes of images formed, tantalizing him with thoughts of what it would be like if he had the opportunity to reciprocate that touch...
Orihime's movements took a new turn as her fingers ventured under Ulquiorra's chin, scratching him gently as if he were a cat. The sensation intoxicated him, but he couldn't allow her to treat him like a pet. As much as he longed to voice his objection though, he feared that speaking out against her touch might prevent her from attempting it again.
For now, Ulquiorra chose to endure it.
He determined that the best way to make Orihime his own was to find a way to enter the human world.
Watching the scene unfold with a mix of disgust and resignation, Uryu understood that there was no winning in this situation. Orihime was determined not to leave Ulquiorra behind, as evident by the look on her face. The specifics of their interaction remained a mystery to him, but it was clear that it wasn't the time to delve into it.
The imminent war still demanded their attention.
"When you two are finished, we can proceed," Uryu's voice finally pierced through the spell that had enveloped Ulquiorra and Orihime. Their eyes snapped open, and Orihime swiftly withdrew her hand, concealing it behind her back as though caught in the act of wrongdoing.
Ulquiorra used this moment to regain his composure.
"Uryu, does that mean..." Orihime began, her voice brimming with hope, "...we can take him with us?"
Uryu shrugged, a defeated sigh escaping his lips.
In this battle of wills, Orihime emerged victorious.
Although Ulquiorra despised being referred to as a pet once again in her plea, he found solace in the fact that she wanted him to accompany her.
Perhaps, just maybe, things were finally aligning in his favor.
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