Control.
It was a trait Ulquiorra always possessed. Control over his perception of the world, control over those around him. And for those he couldn't control, he would will them to submission, grasping them within the confines of his hands.
He had attempted the same with Orihime Inoue.
He believed he could extinguish her hope, plunging her into the depths of despair, forcing her to witness the shattering of her worthless bonds. He planned to destroy Ichigo Kurosaki to reveal the harsh truth. He intended to bind her to him, asserting his control.
But things had not gone as he anticipated. Instead of molding the woman to fit his desires, he found himself neatly folded within her grasp.
Moreover, he no longer possessed the control and power he once had, even over himself. This weakened form and the audacious thoughts the woman had infused him with left him in a disoriented state. Fatigue seemed to plague him with the passing of time and he found himself uncertain of what was real and what was merely a dream.
As the day at the beach drew to a close, Ulquiorra felt that overwhelming weakness weighed on his body. His eyelids grew heavy, pleading for rest. Struggling to keep up with Orihime's brisk stride, his wings faltered and eventually fell behind.
Orihime noticed the absence of his usual fluttering. She turned, surprise evident in her wide silver eyes as she witnessed Ulquiorra trudging along the sandy path with weary steps, his wings and head drooping from exhaustion.
Without hesitation, Orihime stopped and knelt beside him, her face etched with concern. She lifted Ulquiorra, cradling him against her chest. Expecting resistance, she was taken aback when he did not, settling into her embrace without protest.
The sun dipped lower as Orihime quickened her pace, driven by an unspoken urgency to reach home. With each step, she held Ulquiorra protectively, his slumbering form pressed against her as a reminder of his weakened state.
At last, they arrived at Orihime's home. Carefully, she laid Ulquiorra on her bed and allowed her gentle fingertips to trace his cool skin, a mix of tenderness and worry filling her heart. She found no signs of sickness or fever, but instead Ulquiorra resembled a lifeless doll, his limbs devoid of energy or any hint of resistance.
Still adorned in her sundress, Orihime knelt on the bed, her knees sinking into the soft fabric as she gently lifted Ulquiorra from the mattress. Her fingertips cradled his fragile wings and back while her gaze focused on his features. With her thumb she gently traced the tear marks on his face and continued down his torso, she couldn't help but be struck by the sight of his pale skin revealing the faint outlines of his ribs and a sunken stomach. It emphasized the inherent smallness and lankiness that characterized him, now ever more so in this new form.
Orihime's concern grew as Ulquiorra's breathing seemed to labor. She knew her healing powers couldn't help him now, and it made her feel powerless. Was it just the heat of the day taking a toll on him, or was there something more serious going on?
She held him tightly, her body curled on its side, providing a protective embrace. Her gentle touch sought to alleviate any discomfort he might be experiencing in his fragile state.
In a sudden jolt, Ulquiorra awakened in her arms, his body aching and his throat parched with dryness.
Looking up, his eyes met hers. Each time their eyes locked, he found himself unprepared for the powerful wave that her simple gaze sent coursing through him, particularly when it seemed to be filled with concern, as if it were meant solely for him.
"Are you feeling okay?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"I am fine." He tried to assure her, but the raspiness in his throat revealed the truth.
Though relieved to hear his voice, her concern remained unwavering. "Let me get you some water..." she began, gently easing him back onto the bed, her mind already set on the destination of the kitchen.
"Woman, there is no need." He attempted to reassure her, but his words were interrupted by a dry cough.
Orihime pouted, her eyebrows furrowing in determination. Ignoring his previous statement entirely, she gently placed him down and hurried off to the kitchen in search of the smallest cup available.
Ulquiorra let his weight sink into the mattress, exhaustion pulling at him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, another surge of fatigue washing over him as he attempted to swallow, only to be met with unbearable pain.
In a swift motion, Orihime reappeared, holding a small shot glass in her hand. Approaching Ulquiorra, she assisted him in sitting up. Despite his initial protests, he did not refuse the water she carefully tilted towards his lips. Embracing the coolness, he felt a brief revitalization of his throat, momentarily easing the pain.
After a few more sips were offered, he declined any further and slowly reclined back onto the mattress. A deep exhale escaped his lips as he allowed the weight of his heavy eyelids to close.
Orihime looked down at him with concern. His head rested on its side, allowing a few strands of his black hair to cascade over his cheek. His tinted lips parted and his eyebrows furrowed slightly in discomfort.
"Ulquiorra, what's wrong?" she asked anxiously, biting her bottom lip.
The little bat lifted one of his eyelids, meeting her worried gaze.
"I believe my body is simply adjusting to this unfamiliar form." He attempted to reason.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open and his body tensed as Orihime delicately traced her finger along his head and down his neck. Discomfort and fatigue were swiftly replaced by a surge of electricity, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
Orihime could see the shock in his expression and hesitated briefly, much to Ulquiorra's dismay.
"Can you do that again?" he whispered, his request barely audible.
Taken aback by his plea for her touch, Orihime blinked but obliged without a second thought.
As she repeated the gesture, Ulquiorra kept one eye lazily open, observing her intently. Worry still etched on her face as her gaze lingered over his diminutive form. He was on the verge of questioning why she seemed so concerned about him, but the realm of sleep began to tug at him with each tender caress she bestowed. The boundaries between dream and reality blurred in his mind.
In the pristine white hallway, their eyes locked, both donning their mundane uniforms. "Orihime..." Ulquiorra muttered, his voice low and filled with astonishment. Startled, she spun around to face him, her cheeks flushed with a delicate pink hue. Her hair danced in the air as if in sync with her sudden movement.
"Ulquiorra," she responded, her voice carrying a mixture of surprise and anticipation.
His hand reached out, extending an invitation for her to take it. She looked at his hand, then back into his vibrant green eyes. With a tight clasp, she accepted his offer, their hands entwined.
Her touch was warm and ignited something within Ulquiorra, a spark that he immediately suppressed. He questioned her actions and lack of resignation towards him.
"Why?"
The meaning of his own question eluded him, but he waited patiently for her response. Orihime's smile grew, and she tilted her head slightly in a compassionate gesture.
"Because I don't feel lonely when I'm with you." She answered, her voice filled with sincerity.
He blinked, baffled by her response and by his own inquiry. But he would persist, even if he couldn't fully grasp the purpose behind it.
Ulquiorra's free hand reached up, gently lifting her chin. His thumb rested on her bottom lip, while his fingers held her face, ensuring her gaze met his.
"What compels you to display such a smile in my presence?" He inquired, his curiosity overshadowed by his lack of comprehension.
Her friends were absent and so too were the sources of peace in her life. He simply couldn't fathom it.
"You." She responded simply, her words holding a profound significance that just barely escaped his grasp of comprehension.
His lips parted in surprise, his mind racing with anticipation. There was one question burning within him, one he yearned to ask and hear her answer. He needed to know that he wasn't the only one.
"Orihime, do you-"
Buzz.
His question was abruptly cut off by the jarring noise, disrupting the fragile moment between them.
"Can you repeat that?" she asked, disappointed.
He tried again, determined to convey his thoughts.
"In regards to me, do you find yourself th-"
Buzz.
"I can't..."
The sound of the alarm continued to pierce the air, shattering the tranquility of the moment. Ulquiorra's minty green eyes snapped open, the remnants of his dream fading away. The warmth of the sun enveloped his form, tempting him to linger in the comfort of his slumber. Yet, the persistent noise from Orihime's alarm clock insisted on rousing him from his reverie, forcing him to face the reality of the waking world.
He scanned the room with a drowsy gaze, realizing he was nestled between Orihime's breasts, his body rising and falling with each of her breaths. Ulquiorra let out a contented exhale and snuggled deeper into the warmth of Orihime's skin.
Suddenly he felt a shift beneath him as Orihime threw her arm over and immediately hit the snooze button. Her eyes also lazily opened and met with the little Ulquiorra that laid on her chest.
"Feeling any better?" she asked, stretching and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"A bit." Ulquiorra replied. Though he didn't feel great, he wasn't as bad as before, but he couldn't quite recall when that was.
"How much time has passed?" he inquired, pressing for an answer.
Orihime blinked and sat up, cradling Ulquiorra gently in her hand to keep him from sliding down her chest. She placed him on her lap.
"Well, um..." She glanced outside, the cheerful chirping of birds filling the air. "You were asleep all day yesterday. We went to the beach the day before... I was so worried." Her gaze met his.
"I wanted to take you to Urahara's, but I called him and he's out of town until tomorrow. He said you probably just needed rest, but when you wouldn't wake up, I started fearing the worst."
She smiled warmly at him. "I'm really glad you're awake now. I mean, I know I said I was glad you could sleep back in Las Noches, but right now, I'm more relieved to see you awake."
Ulquiorra sighed, feeling the weight of lethargy still lingering. Nonetheless, he mustered the strength to stand on his legs. He couldn't help but wonder if Grimmjow was going through a similar experience.
However, he felt a sense of frustration within himself. He had only ten days to fulfill his self-imposed task, and he had just wasted a whole day sleeping, leaving him with a mere week before his unavoidable demise.
As Orihime's fingers wrapped around his abdomen, a jolt coursed through Ulquiorra. She lifted him, her knees falling over the edge of the bed before she stood up. It seemed she was growing more comfortable touching him in any way she pleased.
Without waiting for his consent, Orihime brought Ulquiorra to the kitchen and placed him silently on the dining table. She headed to the fridge and retrieved a tub of mashed potatoes she had made the previous day, along with a single egg.
After melting some butter in a frying pan, she cracked the egg and added a scoop of potato to the side, seasoning everything generously with paprika.
Ulquiorra watched her cook peacefully, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, dressed in her familiar pink shorts and white tank top. She hummed to herself, creating a serene atmosphere in the kitchen.
"Hey, Ulquiorra?" She called out to him, arranging everything on a plate.
"Hmm."
"I know you don't need to eat human food, but Ichigo told me yesterday that Grimmjow ate some fish just for fun. So, maybe even if this doesn't give you energy, maybe tasting something delicious will make you feel better?"
She set her plate and a bottle of Tabasco on the table and took a seat, ready to dig in. Ulquiorra couldn't help but be amazed by the stark contrast in size between himself and the woman. Whenever she approached him, he instinctively took a step back to fully see her face.
She poured some of the hot sauce on her spoonful and took her first bite, a wave of joy washed over Orihime. "Mmmm," she cooed, savoring the taste and letting out a longing sigh. The sight reminded Ulquiorra of the day in her room when he had asked her not to refer to him as human.
She scooped up a spoonful of mashed potatoes and pointed it in the little bat's direction. "When I'm feeling down, sometimes I'll eat my favorite candy or dish to make myself feel better. Candy doesn't provide actual nourishment, but it still brings me happiness."
Orihime held the spoon out to Ulquiorra, expecting him to try it, but he looked at her quizzically.
She urged the spoon closer to him.
"So, maybe please take a bite? I'm sure it'll make you feel better, even just mentally."
The notion of indulging in human sustenance didn't sit well with Ulquiorra. He knew Grimmjow would partake in human pleasures like food and cigarettes, even if they offered little to no benefit. But that wasn't his way.
Orihime could sense Ulquiorra's hesitation and promptly retracted her spoon. She cracked the egg yolk and let its contents spill onto her spoonful of mashed potatoes.
"It tastes much better this way," she said, bringing the utensil back towards his face. "Try it now, please." She pleaded, her eyes filled with longing. "I've always wanted you to taste my cooking ever since I tried those bland meals in Hueco Mundo."
Ulquiorra frowned. "Woman, I already explained that—"
"Yeah, yeah!" She interrupted. "I know you don't eat like me, I get it! But I know you can put things in your mouth, right? You just drank water moments ago." She waved the utensil in a carefree manner as she made her argument.
Impatiently, she took a bite of the mashed potatoes and yolk, savoring the taste.
"But don't you ever want to experience something in your mouth? Aren't you curious about how it would feel between your lips?" She sighed dreamily.
Ulquiorra felt as though his entire being had turned to stone. Orihime had just posed such a question while wearing that expression. That familiar yet foreign sensation and a rush of images poisoned his mind once again.
What was happening to him?
His throat grew dry once more as he attempted to swallow. "Alright, I'll try it." He relented quickly.
Orihime's eyes widened with excitement as she quickly assembled a fresh spoonful of mashed potatoes and egg yolk for Ulquiorra to try. With gentle care, she approached his tiny lips and offered him a small bite.
Maintaining unwavering eye contact, Ulquiorra parted his lips and sampled her cooking. There was something about the intensity of his gaze while she fed him that momentarily made Orihime forget about their vast size difference. In that moment, an uncomfortable surge of what she believed to be anxiety heat coursed through her.
It was Orihime who instinctively withdrew the spoon, breaking their eye contact abruptly, her cheeks now flushed a deep crimson.
Ulquiorra was familiar with that expression. He had witnessed Ichigo and Uryu wear similar expressions around her. Something about eliciting such exasperation from her due to something as trivial as eating made him feel oddly triumphant.
Her gaze fell heavily upon her plate, and she clutched her spoon, absentmindedly pressing into the mashed potatoes. "So... what do you think?" she eventually spoke, her voice carrying an attempt to break the lingering tension that she was certain only she was experiencing.
Ulquiorra swallowed, his expression remaining impassive. "It is palatable." He stated simply.
Orihime's eyebrows furrowed in frustration, replacing the embarrassed expression she had just worn. "That's it?" she questioned, her tone bordering on defensiveness.
A faint hint of annoyance tugged at the corners of Ulquiorra's lips. "Yes." he replied curtly, unsure how else she expected him to elaborate.
A few steps away, a flower vase sat neatly in the center of the small table. Ulquiorra walked towards it and settled himself comfortably, allowing his back to lean against the empty glass vessel that lacked any actual flowers.
The hurt was palpable in Orihime's voice as she took another bite. "Was that the first time you tried human food?" she inquired, her curiosity unabated.
"No." Ulquiorra answered simply, causing Orihime's eyebrows to raise slightly. "Aizen would hold meetings and require his Espada to join him for tea and biscuits. It served no purpose other than a formality, but we were compelled to partake."
"And...?" Orihime pressed, her anticipation growing.
Ulquiorra crossed his arms, a flicker of annoyance manifesting as his wing twitched. "And what?" he countered.
"What did you think of the tea and biscuit?" she asked, teetering on the edge of her seat.
"It was palatable." Came his concise reply.
Ah, so that was it. Orihime released a sigh of relief, realizing that her cooking had nothing to do with Ulquiorra's lack of enthusiasm for taste. It was simply his presumed lack of appreciation for such things from the start.
But her relieved expression was quickly replaced by a saddened one.
Ulquiorra found himself caught off guard by the woman's ever-shifting emotions. Within a matter of moments, she had gone from excitement to disappointment, from eagerness to relief, and now her face displayed a tinge of sorrow. He couldn't fathom what had caused this sudden change.
"That sounds really sad," she said, her voice tinged with melancholy as she met his vacant gaze.
"What do you mean?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Biting her lip, she struggled to find the right words. "You know, one of the best things about being alive is craving something delicious, feeling the joy when you finally get to taste it," she explained, her voice filled with a touch of longing.
Ulquiorra's throat felt dry, and he listened intently.
"For me, it's like the taste of red bean paste on my tongue—it's pure bliss," she continued, taking another bite of her breakfast and chewing slowly. "So, it's kind of sad that you don't experience that same desire or pleasure from tasting things."
He nodded, acknowledging her point. "I suppose my reaction to tastes is not the same as yours."
She sighed softly, her eyes searching his. "Don't you think it's a bit sad to never have those cravings, to miss out on something you truly desire?"
Ulquiorra's gaze held steady, his thoughts swirling within. The notion of desires and cravings was foreign to him, but lately, he had been grappling with unfamiliar emotions and desires in her presence.
"I suppose I never truly understood that kind of longing until recently." He admitted, his tone reflecting a mix of introspection and uncertainty.
Orihime's eyes lit up with curiosity, and she tilted her head, waiting for his explanation. "Oh? What do you mean?" she asked, eager to delve deeper into Ulquiorra's evolving understanding.
Her expression had once again transformed into one of bewilderment.
Ulquiorra's gaze hardened as he grappled with his own inner turmoil. He couldn't help but scowl internally at his own lack of understanding. He had once looked down upon Grimmjow for indulging in human pleasures, yet here he was, yearning for a human woman. It went beyond mere physical desire, and he couldn't deny the pull he felt towards her. How could he dismiss the very inclinations that humans and even someone like Grimmjow would succumb to?
The realm of taste and flavors eluded him, but when it came to the sensation of Orihime Inoue on his tongue—whether it be her lips, her neck, her chest, her-
He shook his head, deepening his scowl.
Although he struggled to articulate the essence of his connection with her, he knew that she embodied the core of this burning desire.
The silence stretched between them, carrying a weight that seemed to defy time. Orihime could feel the anticipation building within her, beads of sweat forming on her forehead as she awaited the revelation of Ulquiorra Cifer's truth—the fact that he, too, experienced desires akin to any other person.
The silence hung so heavy that she could almost hear a pin drop.
Ulquiorra swallowed hard, trying to grasp why he found it difficult to answer such a simple question. He had never hesitated to engage in discussions before, regardless of his knowledge or ignorance. Yet now, he struggled to find the words.
In that moment, he contemplated revealing everything to her, baring his true intentions. What if he confessed that he was here because he desired her? How would she react? Would she reciprocate those feelings, whatever they may be? The uncertainty gnawed at him, intertwining with the unfamiliar sensations he had only recently begun to comprehend.
But amidst his inner musings, he realized he needed to bring clarity to the conversation. They were talking about food, after all. He needed to focus on the matter at hand and not get lost in the labyrinth of his own yearnings.
"Is your inquiry limited to the context of food, or does desire encompass broader subjects?" Ulquiorra inquired, his tone devoid of emotion.
"Well... I suppose it can be applied to anything…" Orihime replied, her voice trailing off uncertaintly.
"I see," Ulquiorra responded, doing a marvelous job at maintaining his unaffected demeanor. "In that case, I would consider you fitting of that category."
The sudden clatter of metal echoed through the air as Orihime's spoon fell onto her plate, causing Ulquiorra to flinch involuntarily.
A crimson flush surged across Orihime's body, starting from her toes against the wooden chair and rising to her warm cheeks, rendering her momentarily breathless.
As their eyes remained locked, Orihime realized she couldn't evade this conversation as she had done the previous day. The irony struck her—despite Ulquiorra being the one revealing these admissions, they were prompted by her own efforts to engage him and understand him better. Wasn't this what she had wanted? To uncover the underlying tension between them?
Yet now, uncertainty clouded her thoughts. Doubts crept in, casting a shadow on her initial resolve.
Once again, Ulquiorra observed the transformation of emotions across Orihime's face. A fleeting trace of fear danced within her eyes as she appeared as if she had just seen a ghost, frozen like a deer caught in headlights. Her entire body radiated a crimson hue.
He sensed her fear, aware that if given the chance, she might flee from the room, just as she had done in the restroom before. For some inexplicable reason, the thought of her continuously evading him after revealing his inner thoughts to her didn't sit well with him.
However, this time, he wouldn't let her escape.
To his surprise, she mustered the courage to reply. "Ulquiorra…do you know how that might come off to other people?" Her sincere question was accompanied by slow batting eyelashes while her hand crossed her chest and clasped around her arm as she turned away slightly.
Ulquiorra couldn't help but find it absurd. Orihime's attempt to hide her flushed face and shyly avert her gaze while questioning whether he comprehended the gravity of his confession—it was almost comical.
"I would assume it would be interpreted as me acknowledging that you fall into the category of desire for me." Ulquiorra reiterated, his tone matter-of-fact and lacking any resignation.
Orihime's lips pressed together tightly, her mind struggling to process the weight of the conversation. The words hung in the air, creating an uncomfortable tension between them.
"I already made it clear that I have an interest in you, so this shouldn't come as a surprise." Ulquiorra continued, completely undeterred by how his words were affecting her.
Orihime's eyes widened, and she found herself staring down at her plate, her food now cold and forgotten.
This was the same man she had once slapped for his insensitive remarks, urging her to view her friends as foolish for saving her, completely oblivious to the irony of his own words. Orihime was certain that Ulquiorra had a knack for putting his foot in his mouth and remained oblivious to the impact his words had on others. She was convinced that this current situation would be no different, and she was determined to prove that to be the case.
With her newfound resolve, Orihime rubbed her arm, as if seeking a quick boost of courage. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she prepared to counter Ulquiorra. She met his vacant gaze once more, determined to make her point.
"I think that's actually a very positive thing," she began cautiously. "Didn't I mention before? I believe you have the potential to change. And now, you're showing an interest in getting to know someone like me, a mere human whom you once considered trash, remember?"
Orihime was convinced she had interpreted Ulquiorra's words correctly, and if she was right, there was no reason to be embarrassed.
Ulquiorra's frown deepened, clearly dissatisfied with her response.
"And I understand the feeling," she continued. "I want both of us to understand each other, regardless of whether we are hollow or human."
His frown grew even more pronounced.
"That's why Urahara probably wanted you to stay with me. We're the ones who know each other best so far, and there's still much for us to learn."
Something inside Ulquiorra snapped.
"Woman." He spoke, his impatience evident in his tone. "While I do admit to having an interest in understanding you fully, that is not the sole purpose of my intentions with you."
Intentions? Orihime furrowed her eyebrows, confused by his words. Perhaps she had misunderstood him.
"What do you mean by intentions?" she asked, seeking clarification.
Ulquiorra found himself at an impasse, unable to fully grasp what he truly wanted from Orihime or the right word to describe their relationship. Frustrated with himself, he hoped that she might catch on and help piece together the missing parts for him.
But she was just as confused.
The warnings from Uryu and Ichigo reverberated in Orihime's mind, casting doubts that she couldn't ignore. She reluctantly entertained the thought that Ulquiorra might have hidden motives tied to Aizen's plans. Why would a former member of Aizen's army, now confined to this peculiar state, have intentions with her? Her powers were already ineffective against him.
Observing the apprehension in Ulquiorra's gaze, she couldn't hold back her need for answers any longer.
"Ulquiorra... do you truly have no idea why you've become this…tiny?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.
The question caught Ulquiorra off guard, and his eyes widened ever so slightly, betraying his surprise. He averted his gaze, unable to meet her eyes as he struggled to find a way to answer honestly, he couldn't find it in himself to lie dismissively as he had with Ichigo and Uryu.
"I have... a theory," he finally responded, his voice quiet and hesitant.
"You do? What is it?!" Orihime's voice brimmed with excitement. Ulquiorra failed to see her lean in expectantly, eager for an answer.
"I know this transformation occurs when an arrancar is on the brink of death, coupled with an internal change specific to that individual. But I need to discuss it with Urahara to gain more clarity," Ulquiorra explained, still avoiding her direct gaze.
"Ah... I suppose that makes sense." she nodded. "But do you have any idea how to reverse it? Is there a cure?" Orihime probed further, her eagerness palpable.
Ulquiorra, feeling a surge of discomfort, breathed heavily. He had just confessed his desire and interest in her, only for her to dismiss it casually. Now, she sat on the edge of her seat, eagerly awaiting an answer that he knew she would also dismiss once she learned the truth.
"It's merely a theory, but I believe there is something we must receive." he replied, still averting his gaze, his voice barely audible.
"Like... a gift?" Orihime inquired, her finger pressing against her cheek as she pondered.
"I... suppose you could say that," Ulquiorra responded tentatively.
"Is it something I can give you?" she asked sincerely, oblivious to Ulquiorra's discomfort.
Ulquiorra's head snapped in her direction, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach, making him feel queasy. He couldn't help but wonder if the food she had given him was the cause of his discomfort.
Before he could even contemplate how to respond to her question, she interjected with a tinge of disappointment, "Oh, right. I already tried using my powers on you, so I don't know what else I can give you. Oh! I did mention to Urahara how I tried rejecting your tiny form, and he was just as surprised when I told him what happened!"
Taking a deep breath, Ulquiorra attempted to regain control over the ache in his stomach, his arms tightening as he crossed them. "As I mentioned before, discussing my theory with Urahara would be beneficial."
Orihime shifted her attention to her neglected breakfast, feeling a twinge of disappointment as she poked her finger into the cold potato. Determined to fix the situation, she swiftly got up and placed the plate in the microwave, setting it for 30 seconds.
"Okay, so once Urahara is back, we'll set a date to see him! Hopefully, it will bring us one step closer to returning you guys to normal... although I'm going to miss seeing you so tiny," she said, offering a sweet gesture from across the kitchen.
Being regarded by her as if he were once again a cute little pet in her presence quickly replaced Ulquiorra's queasiness with a tint of annoyance.
Unaware of Ulquiorra's growing discontent, Orihime's gaze flitted from the tiny bat to the tantalizing bottle of Tabasco sitting on the table. A brilliant idea sparked in her mind, perfectly timed with the microwave's imminent ding.
With eager anticipation, she retrieved the steaming plate and returned to her chair, placing the hot food on the table. Her hand reached out for the bottle of hot sauce, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Carefully, she drizzled a few drops from the bottle onto a section of mashed potatoes.
"No wonder you weren't impressed by human food. Sometimes, you need to add a little spice to make things taste good. I tell my friends this all the time, you know?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm.
Ulquiorra observed her actions with a wary gaze as she deftly picked up the spoon, scooping a small amount of the red-tinged potatoes and then dipping it into the creamy yellow of the egg mixture.
Orihime neared the loaded utensil and pointed it towards him. "Try it now. I'm sure you'll like it more like this!"
Ulquiorra's patience continued to wane, and his discomfort showed no signs of abating. With a resigned sigh, he reluctantly agreed to another taste of the food. Sampling a small portion, he was about to reassure Orihime once more that it was indeed palatable, when suddenly, a scorching wave of heat engulfed him.
But this heat was unlike anything he had experienced before, particularly in relation to Orihime. It seared the back of his throat, setting his entire mouth ablaze. The tips of his lips felt as if they were being torched, and his eyes widened to the point of near bulging. Frantically, he pushed the spoon away, clasping his hand over his mouth as he succumbed to a fit of uncontrollable coughing.
"Woman," he managed to wheeze between coughs, his voice strained and hoarse, "Are you trying to kill me?" His words emerged in stutters, hindered by the dryness in his throat that had plagued him since morning, now exacerbated and making it difficult to swallow.
Orihime's teeth chattered together, rendering her speechless as a wave of worry washed over her. In a panic, she dashed back into the kitchen, desperately searching for a cup of water. But in her haste she accidentally collided with her chair, sending it tumbling to the floor.
Frantically searching for a suitable vessel, Orihime finally seized a delicate tea cup and swiftly filled it with water from the tap. Driven by a sense of urgency, she dashed towards Ulquiorra, cup in hand, brimming with liquid salvation to douse the ferocious inferno tormenting his mouth.
Regrettably, her eagerness proved to be her downfall, as a portion of the water cascaded from the cup, transforming the once stable kitchen floor into a treacherous, slippery terrain.
In a twist of fate, Orihime's rapid momentum betrayed her, leading to a dramatic slip and an onward collision with the upturned chair. A suppressed cry of pain escaped her lips as she sank her teeth into her lower lip, attempting to contain the unexpected jolt of agony coursing through her body.
Meanwhile, Ulquiorra coughed with unrelenting vigor, causing his once-pale complexion blazing into a bright shade of red. Tears welled up in his eyes, teetering on the edge of spilling, as he remained oblivious to the chaotic scene unfolding around him.
Finally reaching Ulquiorra's side, she held out her trembling hand struggling to keep the cup steady, a result of the lingering pain.
"D-Drink this!" she managed to utter, her words strained and muffled by her clenched teeth.
Ulquiorra gulped down whatever remained in the cup but the heat in his mouth refused to relent, intensifying with each passing second. He continued coughing vehemently, unable to comprehend why a simple human ingredient had him locked in such a chokehold. He briefly glanced up at Orihime, recalling that she had consumed the same substance earlier without any adverse effects. Perhaps his weakened state was to blame.
Caught in the throes of a relentless coughing fit, Ulquiorra found himself hunched over on all fours. His wings hung limply at his sides, while his knees and hands provided support against the table.
Orihime's panic escalated as she watched him, fearing that she had truly pushed him to his limits this time. Why had she thought subjecting him to spice was a good idea? All she wanted was for him to appreciate human food.
A sudden realization struck her. Sweetness was the antidote to spice! She spun around, nearly tripping over the upturned chair once more, as she hurried toward the freezer. However, her foot caught on the spilled water, and she had to grab hold of the counter to prevent herself from falling to the ground. Ulquiorra continued to heave uncontrollably and remained unaware of Orihime's frantic attempts to save the day.
Orihime grabbed a small carton of vanilla ice cream she had bought previously and a new spoon from the drawer. She tredded carefully in the kitchen to avoid slipping again and raced back to Ulquiorra.
With determination, Orihime ripped off the lid and cautiously lifted Ulquiorra, propping him up so he was seated on his knees as her fingers nestled beneath his shoulders. It was as if his body had transformed into a limp floppy doll again and her hand was the only force holding him up, his wings cascaded around him like a makeshift cape.
Without hesitation, she filled the spoon with a generous portion and pressed it against Ulquiorra's lips.
His eyes remained shut, still recovering from the watery aftermath of his tears. Yet, the sensation of coldness against his lips prompted him to instinctively open his mouth, finding relief as the coolness quelled the burning sensation that had tormented him. Eagerly, he pushed his head towards the spoon, inviting more of the refreshing substance to enter his mouth and travel down his throat, extinguishing the remnants of the initial fiery torment.
The sweetness assaulted his taste buds, eliciting a grimace, but the blissful coolness it brought outweighed the temporary discomfort. With each bite, he could feel his composure returning. His head hung low, his dark hair serving as a veil to shield the range of emotions that played across his face—relief at the refreshing coolness, mingled with a hint of disgust at the overwhelming sweetness.
Finally, regaining control of his breathing, he mustered the strength to lift his gaze and lock eyes with Orihime, who anxiously watched him with unwavering concern.
"Ulquiorra, I'm... I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, her face contorted with deep worry. "I just wanted you to like human food, but I think I might have traumatized you instead! I didn't think it'd be too spicy..."
Ulquiorra blinked slowly, his gaze fixed on her. He felt as if he had just emerged from a fierce battle, narrowly escaping death by a hair's breadth. Another slow blink followed.
"Woman, do you humans willingly subject yourselves to such agony?" he asked, releasing a heavy breath.
Despite her genuine concern, Orihime fought to contain her laughter, conscious of not wanting to come across as impolite.
"Well, it looks like you just can't handle spice, Ulquiorra."
Before you ask, me and my partner debated for 30 minutes whether or not Ulquiorra could handle spicy food. Yes his name is from El Que Lllora -which was my reasoning he could handle it, because you know...spanish. My partner is Puerto Rican so when they countered Ulquiorra probably couldn't handle spice, we had to discuss. It's both of our headcanons if Ulquiorra was human he would come from Spain because of his light skin color, and it's known most spainiards can't in fact handle spice SO, here is a bitchmade Ulquiorra losing his mind from a drop of tobasco. Whether you like the headcanon or not, you have to admit it's pretty funny.
Anyways, you know how it goes. If you enjoy please leave a comment. If gives life to those that spend their freetime writing stuff for the fandom to enjoy. So if you did please let me know. Thank you