Impassion :: Broken and Crushed

Part III

The chatter is loud as ten striking individuals waltz into the high-ceilinged room, making their way towards a long table at the center. Exactly as the last man took his seat, tall doors from the opposite end of the room opened and in walked the three most powerful men in the realm.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the Espada," Aizen Sousuke greets his prized warriors. "We are under attack… but first, shall we have some tea?"

The detached calm from the brunet sent shivers down some of the Arrancars' physique. Never had any of them heard someone proclaim such things so easily – brushing it off so carelessly as though he had just picked out the flavor of their tea for the day.

Nobody bothers to question why the renegade reaper insists on serving them tea when none of them took time to drink it; a servant Arrancar eventually came around the table setting down steaming mugs of chamomile tea.

"Has the tea made its way around to everyone?" Aizen asks, taking his seat at the head of the table as Gin and Tousen move to stand behind him. Hearing no reply – and not expecting one, anyway– the brunet continued. "Now then… please listen while you drink…"

"Kaname, the visual, please…" the voice of their 'Lord' fills the whole hall; a mere reassertion of the man's power of his subordinates – no one is allowed to speak unless Aizen says so.

The blind soul reaper obediently sets to his task and the middle of the long table opens up, projecting an image from somewhere outside the castle, featuring three minuscule figures sprinting across the white sands.

"There are three intruders…" Aizen starts; resting his chin on the back of one hand as he calmly faces the Espada. "Ishida Uryuu." The projection closes in on a white-clad boy wearing glasses. "Sado Yasutora." A big-boned man with a dark complexion. "Kurosaki Ichigo." The orange-haired substitute reaper.

Grimmjow visibly bristles at the sight but no one paid him attention… openly, in any case.

"…These… are our enemies?" the Noveno's two-toned mechanical voice asks.

"What the?" Barragan exclaims, his lined face looking none too pleased. "When you said we were under attack, I wondered what kind of people they were but they're still youngsters!"

"They're not the least bit… arousing…" golden-eyed Szayel Aporro drawls out, jadedly eyeing the presented visuals.

"Do not take them lightly," Aizen admonishes, "These are the humans formerly known as the 'Ryoka' – who, with just four people, marched into Soul Society and challenged the Thirteen Protection Squads to battle."

"…You said four people," Zommari queries, carefully choosing his words as he stares down at the projection still flashing in the middle of their table. "They're short of one… Who's missing?"

"Inoue Orihime," Ulquiorra answered for their Lord. His green eyes meet the Septima's but it is in his peripheral vision where he pays more attention. The air around Grimmjow was starting to feel off.

"That means they came to save their friend, right?" Nnoitra picks up the conversation, "That's great but they look so weak."

"Did you not hear Aizen-sama?" the sole female in the Espada speaks out, "I believe he said not to take them lightly."

"That's not what I meant," the Quinta directs a glare towards the woman on sitting to his left. "Don't get testy. You scared or something?"

The silence of Halibel's lack of reply is drowned with the clatter of a chair as one of their numbers abruptly stands.

All eyes were drawn to the aqua-haired Espada who was headed out the door without so much as a word to anyone. Aizen doesn't bat an eye as the Sexta brushes past him while the rest of the Espada shoots cynical looks at their 'brother'.

"Grimmjow, where are you going?" Kaname Tousen's serious voice cuts through the silence.

"To kill them," Grimmjow replies sharply, "It's best to crush insects quickly once they've gotten inside, right?"

"Aizen-sama has not given any orders yet," the ex-9th division captain replies in a tone of forced calm. "Go back."

"It's on Aizen-sama's behalf that I'm gonna crush them." Grimmjow snarls.

"Grimmjow," the Lord of Las Noches speaks – breaking the tense atmosphere that was building up between Soul Reaper and Arrancar.

"…Yes, sir?" Grimmjow grits out.

"I am pleased that you would mobilize on my behalf but I'm still in the middle of talking. For now, would you please return to your seat?"

The sapphire-eyed Espada turns around slightly, irises peering at the brunet from the corner of his narrowed eyes. He looked as though he was wondering if he could possibly Sonido his way out of the palace, outrunning even –

"What's wrong?" Aizen's cool voice cuts off the Arrancar's train off thought, inclining his head in the slightest to meet eye-to-eye with his minion. "I can't hear you, Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez."

From the rest of the Espada's viewpoint, it was as though the Sexta's knees suddenly gave in with the suddenness of their comrade's fall. But they knew better. A barely noticeable surge of spiritual pressure swept through the room, it lasted for only for a millionth of a second but even from afar, they felt the impact of the force that bombarded Pantera's wielder - bringing him down on his knees, instantly wiping the annoyed look on his boyish face and replacing it with one of surprise before an all new level of fury settled in. Grimmjow's harsh pants filled the hall as he glared at the renegade soul reaper who stood up and addressed his warriors.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Espada," Aizen began – starting off with the age-old greeting that veiled his commands under the cool and conversional tone. The brunet's soliloquy of his path with no enemies drew everyone's eyes on his self – eyes focused and lips thinned to a line. He gives them his orders – lay back, do not attack – and dismisses them shortly after.

Grimmjow stays glued to the floor as the rest of the Espada file out of the room; he grits his teeth, mentally cursing the megalomaniac reaper. He still couldn't move a muscle and the fact that Aizen held back the Cuatro to give him additional orders did nothing to soothe his rage.

"Ulquiorra, I entrust the task of taking care of our dear guest to you," Aizen says lightly, his voice echoing in the still room. "I do believe such a trivial matter wouldn't be much of a hassle."

"Of course, Aizen-sama," the jade-eyed Espada replies.

"Very well, I would expect that you check up on Miss Inoue regularly, we wouldn't want any harm to come to her, after all."

With that, Aizen proceeds to walk out of the room, Gin and Tousen finally moving form their posts and stepping up behind the brunet who walked past the Sexta as though he didn't exist; the lights automatically shut off at their exit. As the trio's footsteps fade away, Grimmjow slowly regained control of his body – slumping down on the floor and biting back a growl. He fisted his shaking hands, sapphire eyes cast down on the shadows of the room.

"Why must you always act so rashly?" Ulquiorra asks, approaching the inferior Arrancar. He tried his best to sound nonchalant but even in his own ears he sounded pissed.

Grimmjow raises his head, sapphires clashing with jades. He replies with a glare, straightening up and towering over the lithe form of the Cuatro. The reprimanding mien that the other wore wasn't welcome and he was in no mood to hear anything out.

Black and white lips purse tightly as he watched the tanned Espada stomp out of the room without a word. The porcelain face turns and jade eyes fall onto the meeting table in the middle of the room which was now half engulfed with shadow.

…That substitute reaper.

Their three intruders multiply into eight individuals when they finally break into the main Palace – three reapers, three Arrancar defectors, a Quincy and a human – all willing to risk their lives for the sake of one girl. It had been a whole week since the day Aizen met his Espada's at the high-ceilinged room and the atmosphere in the West Wing of Las Noches was extremely edgy. (1)

The thought of possibly strong invaders coming to them certainly piqued more than one Espada's interest despite most of the others' attempt to hide it. After all, a promotion in rank was always welcome.

That was possibly why Ulquiorra wasn't shaken in the slightest when Nnoitra suddenly cornered him, one night after he'd taken to his duties in looking after their human guest. The Quinta had been lewd, which was nothing new really, and Ulquiorra replied to the skinny man's queries curtly before walking away. It killed five minutes, the whole (pointless) conversation, but in the end it wasn't a huge loss, he didn't have any other tasks to attend to tonight…

He was already at the corner, one corridor away from their guest's 'cell', when he paused, sensing the spiritual presence of another Espada on the adjoined hallway.

… No task that he'd been briefed on beforehand, in any case.

"Quite a surprise to find you here, Grimmjow…" the whispered words pass through black and white lips as the Espada's eyes slide shut.

There is a shift in energy as the Sexta's spiritual pressure registers nearer. A soft 'thump' comes from the other side and the sound of a deep exhale reaches his ears. Ulquiorra sighs and flattens his back against the white-washed wall, knowing that the sapphire-eyed Espada carried the same posture on the other side.

"Well?" the lithe Espada questions once the other failed to reply. "Is there a particular reason why you decided to leave your quarters this time of the night?"

"Just wanted to walk around," the low murmur comes from the around the corner.

"Really, now…" a small hint of amusement laces the Cuatro's voice.

"Well what the hell do you want me to say?" Grimmjow huffs, crossing his arms, blue eyes straying towards the corner between him and his superior.

"Nothing at all," Ulquiorra replies, opening his eyes half-way and directing his gaze to his right. "Well then, I must be on my way… I assume you have a destination yourself and I do not wish to stall you any longer… Later, then, Grimmjow…" He puts one foot forward, pushing himself off the wall but his foot hasn't even touched the ground when a gust of cold night air blew against him and a calloused hand grabbed him by the elbow. He doesn't even feign surprise at the other's actions; instead he gives the taller man a small smile in greeting.

Grimmjow breathes out harshly, eyes wide and shining, confusion at his own action written all over his face.

Green irises stare back coolly as Ulquiorra turns to face the muscular man, raising his right arm – his hand gently touching the taller one's left cheek.

The expression on the Sexta's face calms and his hand looses its grip on the pale Arrancar. "Stop that," he mutters, turning his face away from the other's touch, taking a step backwards and shoving his hands into his pockets.

Drawing back his hand, Ulquiorra continues to stare up at his companion, waiting for an explanation of this untimely (but not unwelcome) visit.

"Nnoitra's being a dick." Grimmjow spat suddenly, sapphire eyes darting towards the opposite wall.

Ulquiorra raised a brow.

"Keeps saying stupid things recently," the aqua-haired Espada continued, brows knitting together as his lips form a frown. "Motherfucker's probably just screwin' around with his words; given Aizen and his stinking directives about the intruders–"

"It's about the woman, isn't it?" the Cuatro pressed on, not having much patience for the other's prevarications.

"I don't believe his shit, you know. It's a load of crap and–"

"You're jealous."

Grimmjow paused, his lips twisting into a tight frown. "I'm not."

"Really?" Ulquiorra steps closer.

"Do I have any reason to?" Grimmjow answers, meeting the jade-eyed gaze of the smaller Arrancar with the smallest hint of unease in his tone.

"No." The Cuatro Espada places a feather-light kiss on the Sexta's jaw. "You're just being stupid," he whispers against the smooth skin.

And Grimmjow's arm gradually slides around the Cuatro's slim waist in an almost possessive hold.

Soon everything will come crashing down… but until then…

"Who is it?"

The silver-haired soul reaper inclines his head in wonder, rotating the chair he occupied to take a look at his guest. A small frown plays on his lips as he surveys his unusual visitor.

"Have they found their way into the palaces of the Espada?" the newcomer queries, surprisingly starting the conversation without a proper greeting as he stands a mere foot inside the room.

A grin found its way onto Gin's lips as he leans back in his seat, "You comin' up an' chattin' with me… Well ain't that a sight. You mean you don't hate me?"

Ulquiorra closes his eyes, replying humbly, "Never."

"Is that so?" Ichimaru asks with a wide smile, motioning for the Espada to come nearer with one bony hand. "If that's the case then we oughta try gettin' along better, eh, partner?"

The ebony-haired Espada slowly approaches, eyeing the reaper's handiwork on the control table as the latter continued to chat.

"I been lonely since Luppi went and died on me… Me and that kid, we used to talk and talk…" Gin nodded to himself.

"…What's this?" Ulquiorra asks, green eyes trained on the bright crisscrossing lines upon the table.

The reaper's smile grew wider. "Yep," he says in a tone of accomplishment. "It's alright."

"The corridor controls," jade-eyed Ulquiorra muses aloud, turning his gaze on the silver-haired man. "Are you…?"

"Oh no," Aizen's right-hand man answers with a coy smile. "It ain't doin' nothin' mean like that…"

The detached look on the Cuatro Espada's face almost slips as the pointed face looks up at him wearing that eerie, disarming smile.

"'Sides," Ichimaru speaks, the sinful glee in his tone sending a wave of unease over the pale Arrancar. "I just hate sad stories…"

Ulquiorra pauses, an icy chill striking his figure. And in that instant, he knew he wouldn't be able to bear receiving that look anymore. Twin pools of jade quickly avert towards the control table.

"Ya know," Gin continues, his smile etching deeper into his features. "I do believe some of yer brothers have run out of patience… Are you aware?"

Bright green eyes stubbornly stay glued onto the blinking light of the controls, black and white lips pressing together tightly as his fingernails dig into the flesh of his palm inside the loose pockets of his uniform.

"Oh but of course you are," the fox-faced reaper answered his own question. "My bad… I shoulda asked ya if yer aware of what dear Szayel was fumin' about earlier on…"

With a lack of reply from the Espada, the silver-haired man went on. "I just heard him whinin' about it when I passed by his labs, ya know? And this thing I'mma be tellin' you 's a secret." His voice goes down a notch as he leans closer towards his companion. "The recording that he got on the Kurosaki kid… already surpassed his own…" (2)

Jade eyes snapped towards the grinning face unbidden, the shock he felt barely repressed in the expression he wore. "I have to go," the Cuatro finally manages to speak, his voice terse. And with quick, deliberate steps, the slim figure was out of the door.

I'm sorry, Grimmjow.

"Sleep with me."

Sapphire eyes blink down at the pale man's porcelain face lit under moonlight.

The entire West Wing was silent, undisturbed save for occasional howling gust of cool air. The pair's shadow is cast over the entirety of the hall leading towards the Sexta Espada's chamber. Said Espada is speechless, standing like a statue behind the open door of his room.

His visitor, meanwhile, retains his solemn mien, jade eyes imploringly looking up to meet the taller man's gaze.

Something is wrong, his mind tells him and for once Grimmjow agrees. He places both hands on Ulquiorra's shoulders, stooping to level his face with the smaller man's. They stare at each other for long seconds until Grimmjow finally releases the deep breath that he'd been holding in.

"Okay, what's wrong?" the Sexta asks bluntly, wearing a skeptical look on his boyish face.

"Why do you think that?" Murcielago's wielder replies, lifting his right hand. The smooth pale hand idly slid along the sun-kissed skin, eventually settling upon the back of Grimmjow's right hand. Ulquiorra tilted his head to the right, leaning into their joined hands.

"Well, you just fucking came up and asked me to sleep with you." Grimmjow replied flatly.

"Is that something new?" the jade-eyed man asks, entwining the fingers of their right hands before lifting Grimmjow's hand off of his shoulder and pressing its palm against his lips.

"You never asked before."

"…"

Grimmjow takes control of his right hand and moves it to cup the Cuatro's cheek, caressing the cool skin with his thumb – the smaller hand still attached. Twin pools of green gaze up at him from beneath thick dark lashes. Ulquiorra looks so unsure, it unnerved him more than he had ever thought possible.

"Ulquiorra…" Grimmjow carefully leans towards his superior, their noses bumping together as he brought himself as near as possible without having their bone fragments collide. "Tell me what's up, why don't ya?" he whispers.

Blunt black-tipped fingers grip the tanned hand tighter against his cheek. "The intruders are nearing the main palace…" Ulquiorra finally admits. He should at least speak a part of the truth, he reasoned with himself.

Grimmjow's expression hardens slightly at the information but the smaller man continues before he could speak.

"And some of the Espadas have begun moving…"

Sapphire eyes strongly hold their jade counterparts as a small frown etches upon Grimmjow's lips. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to read the expression in those endless pools of green – Ulquiorra looked troubled but that was impossible in itself. The impeccable Cuatro Espada wasn't one to worry.

"We're gonna kill 'em all," the aqua-haired Espada murmurs in a tone of assurance – for Ulquiorra? for himself? He wasn't sure but he felt that it just needed to be said.

Eyelids lower half-way over jade irises as a soft smile graces the Cuatro's dual-toned lips. "We will." Ulquiorra agreed, fluidly lifting both arms wrapping them around the Sexta's neck. And in the next moment his eyes are shut and his lips had settled on the corner of Grimmjow's mouth.

Once Ulquiorra reopens his eyes, he finds Grimmjow wearing a content smirk and they proceed inside without another word.

I'm truly very sorry.

Muddy blue eyes blink open, adjusting themselves to the darkness… to the cold. The hot breath on his neck was gone, so was the slim figure curved over his side and the nimble fingers entwined with his own – the locks of silky ebony hair, the smooth porcelain skin melding into his own, the soft lips pressing onto his skin, the dulcet whisperings of his name – all gone.

Grimmjow abruptly sits up, eyes wide and confused. He surveys the shadowed surroundings – the wrinkled bed sheets, the stains, all his clothing scattered on the floor. There was nobody else.

A sinking feeling engulfs the muscular man as he pulls away the sheets and slips out of the bed; all its warmth had already seeped out hours ago. His eyes glow under the shadows as he makes a beeline towards a closet at the corner, plucking out a pair of clothes similar to the ones on his floor. Something wasn't right. A big something wasn't fucking right. Ulquiorra never left him asleep and the fact that he couldn't feel his superior's spiritual signature anywhere nearby only made his foul mood worse.

He marched out of his quarters wearing a glare on his face, hands fisted inside his pockets. He couldn't be bothered to check what time it was, or how long he had been asleep. His mind was zeroed in on one goal: finding Ulquiorra. And the longer it took to find him, the more insecurity crept up on his mind.

"Motherfucking…" Grimmjow had taken to growling curse words under his breath as he stalked the countless halls of Las Noches. He had already walked around at least a fourth of the whole area but there was still no trace of Murcielago's wielder. All of a sudden, he paused in mid-step. Muffled shouting came from the hallway he had just passed, pale blue brows furrowed further as he realized where his feet brought him and the probability of where the sounds were coming from. Frowning tightly, Grimmjow backtracked and silently sauntered over towards the noise-emitting room. He could feel three people inside – the human girl and two others, Arrancars. His chest tightened. Ulquiorra wasn't among them. But, his mind added, it wasn't like Ulquiorra to disregard direct orders from Aizen. And by his memory, he recalled that their megalomaniac overlord ordered for the human girl to be treated nicely – the sounds of smacks and punches from their guest's chamber told an entirely different story. Ulquiorra should've been there to prevent that – but he wasn't – and Grimmjow didn't think he could burn with anymore anger but he did.

Something was definitely fucking wrong.

A fist was raised, made to knock on the concrete door but there was a sudden spark of cognition that flared in his mind. The orange-haired soul reaper's spiritual presence had dropped; he'd been taking a sort of tab on it ever since Aizen had announced the boy's presence, waiting for when he would be allowed to settle their score but now… The substitute reaper's spiritual signature was fading away and with it was another familiar character close by… a much too familiar character. (3)

Ulquiorra.

Canines grit together harshly. Realization hitting him with a jolt.

God damn that motherfucking little asswipe to hell.

A murderous glare fits on the boyish face. His spiritual force flares as his anger rises, his fists shoved rashly into his pockets, sapphire pools ablaze.

The substitute reaper's presence completely evaporates from his radar and the door to the woman's chamber explodes.

I should've known.

"What are you doing, Grimmjow?" Ulquiorra's tone is cold, bright green irises livid underneath the poised air that he carried. He passively inspected the scene and found four pairs of eyes looking at him – four, a number one more than what he had expected. The orange-haired reaper was breathing, breathing and staring at him from underneath a concave bright orange glow and that wasn't right – he did just kill off the guy a few minutes prior. His eyes meet with twin blue orbs.

"What's the matter? I'm asking you… What do you think you are doing going out of your way to heal the injuries of an enemy I defeated?"

Nobody spoke a word as the surprised look from the auburn-haired woman turned into something very much close to shame. Grimmjow was determinedly staring down at the superior Espada; a confused hatred swimming in his eyes.

"Not going to answer? Very well… In any event, that woman has been placed in my care by Aizen-sama, so hand her over." His voice was commanding – as commanding as he could manage in spite of the pang of guilt that he could feel nagging at a considerable portion of his psyche. He knew that it would come to this, he knew it the moment he stepped out of the Sexta's chamber, this was bound to happen but he still slipped out and killed off the substitute reaper. He might've been hoping that Grimmjow wouldn't react too drastically but maybe he'd been too optimistic.

"Go fuck yourself." Grimmjow's face hid nothing – not his irritation, not his great ire, he was pissed off and that was exactly what he conveyed in his expression and words.

"…What did you say?" Jade irises narrow, he knew what was about to happen; it wasn't really difficult to figure it out.

"…What's up with you?" The Sexta's voice lowers a notch as his gaze momentarily drops as though he's strengthening his resolution. It lasts for a mere second before Pantera's wielder raises his eyes, a feral expression masking his boyish face. "You're awfully chatty today, Ulquiorra!"

Grimmjow charges forward, swinging out his right hand which Ulquiorra promptly blocks with the back of his left hand. Green meets blue and the moment their hands touch lasts longer that what should've been allowed.

"I get it Ulquiorra," the aqua-haired Espada leers, seeing indecision swimming in his superior's eyes. "You're scared to fight me – scared to crush each other." The Sexta's blue zero charges up directly against the pale knuckles and Ulquiorra wisely jumps back but Grimmjow presses forward.

"Ha! Repelled it, huh?" sapphire eyes flash as the smoke clears, and he sees the Cuatro's slender figure just a few feet away. "Of course this isn't going to be over with just one at–"

Grimmjow's words stop as Ulquiorra vanishes from sight and he feel's the latter's spiritual signature above him. The Sexta looks up to find Ulquiorra pointing a black-tipped finger at the top of his head – a green cero waiting to be fired at its tip. Not wasting a second, Grimmjow hoists up his own hand, charging his own cero. The bright light from both ceros is nearly blinding but the two Espada's still saw eye to eye.

The top of the nearest pillar explodes sending debris and smoke into the air surrounding them.

Ulquiorra's jade eyes flit wildly in the smoke, but he fails to detect the Sexta until Grimmjow reappears behind him – swinging out an arm and grabbing the collar of his jacket. Some of the smoke are whisked away by the movement, allowing him a peek of Grimmjow's face – handsome, angry, confused…

The warm, calloused hand hovers over the Cuatro's throat. Bright green eyes dart down to find a small box floating into his hollow hole and realization dawns too late for the ebony-haired Espada.

Grimmjow mutely draws back his arm and in a flash of light, no trace is left of the jade-eyed Ulquiorra.

Cloudy sapphire eyes stare for moment longer before turning back…

…Guilty.

The sound of breaking glass reverberates in the cold, high-ceilinged throne room as a pale hand breaks through dimensions. Head bowed, the lithe figure of Ulquiorra Cifer steps out of the dimensional rip, inclining his head in the slightest towards Aizen – the man standing just outside his own Garganta, on the point of leaving Hueco Mundo to begin his assault on the town of Karakura.

"Of course," the Cuatro's monotone voice answers promptly to his Lord's latest assignment - a pointless answer that needed to be said just so that the Garganta would finally close.

He senses another presence in the room behind him but it isn't the one that he was looking for. He briefly closes his eyes and feels around the whole perimeter of Las Noches; battles are going on everywhere, soul reapers versus Arrancars and he'd expected as much, however… Jade eyes shot open and his chest seems to cave in on his lungs, his breath hitches and he purses his lips tighter.

"He is dying…" the jade-eyed man whispers to himself, looking down at his sorry reflection on the smooth black floor. His reflection returns his gaze with deadened eyes.

Light steps echo in the room and he fixes his mien, putting on an emotionless front before looking up at the human woman.

She stares back at him with gray-hued irises, defiant but with a tinge of something else.

"Are you afraid?" the Espada asks, breaking the awful silence that's filling his ears.

The auburn-haired woman replies in the negative. He scoffs at her nonsense and she responds with a long-winded explanation that passed through his hearing without making sense.

"…That's right," Orihime continues her monologue with a soft smile, eyes darting to the side as she is reminded of her friends' efforts. "There might not be a way to feel the exact same thing as someone else but if that person is important to you, you can leave a bit of your heart with them. I'm sure of it now," her voice gains a lighter tone. "That's what it means for hearts to beat as one."

Ulquiorra is silent, unwilling to admit that somehow her last words a slight bit sensible in some far corner of his mind.

"A heart?" he questions in a carefully guarded tone. "You humans speak that word so easily, as though it's something that you can hold in your hands." He takes a step closer, "Those that I do not see, do not exist – I have fought this far knowing that. What is a heart?" A pale hand is raised swiftly, pointing towards the human. "Will I find it if I rip open your chest? Will I find it if I crack open your skull?"

The woman's gaze turns startled and he wonders if she was actually threatened but there it is again… that strange look mixed in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Inoue mumbles quietly, earnestly.

"I do not recall asking you to apologize," Ulquiorra coldly remarks, taking back his hand.

Gray eyes lift to meet his green ones, and he finally registers her expression.

Pity.

"Kurosaki-kun didn't want to finish him off," Orihime began, bravely holding the Espada's gaze. "But one your numbers, the one called Nnoitra… He just suddenly came and dealt a blow."

Jade eyes widen in surprise. He had not asked for this. The composed look on his pale face flickers for a second.

And suddenly, the wall behind him crashes – bidding the arrival of Kurosaki Ichigo.

The woman's look of surprise mirrored the Arrancar's. And Ulquiorra inwardly berates himself for wishing that the human boy had arrived later – wishing that he could still ask the woman a few questions, wishing that he could instead leave this place and rush towards a certain Espada's side, wishing for things that weren't natural to him… things that should have had a lower spot on his priorities list but were adamantly stuck at the top.

…But then again, as if I could ever show my face to you now.

The glaring artificial sun and white sands irritate his wounds… well, not all of them were white. His blood stained those in his immediate surroundings, dying pure white with crimson. Even the task of breathing takes a lot out of him – which isn't a surprise really, he knew his body was beaten up to the core. What surprised him was that he was still surviving until now…

Weary lids slid shut over unseeing sapphire eyes, doubling the feeling of the dark spiritual force that had come in tidal waves all over Las Noches.

Ulquiorra had returned. Ulquiorra was fighting Kurosaki Ichigo. Ulquiorra… had released the second stage of his Resurrecion.

It didn't take long for the substitute reaper to drag out another impossible feat, he felt him release a disturbing wave of spiritual pressure – more powerful, more sinister, more hollow-like than ever

And Ulquiorra still fought. He was never one to back down… He was a fighter, through and through… He was…

Ulquiorra…

The same old feeling returns. Grasping him in its sharp claws, squeezing the breath out of his chest, draining him of every drop of strength that was left in his battered body, pushing away all thought from his mind save for one image. The one that he'd never let go.

Porcelain skin under silver moonlight – the eyes that gleamed like precious jade stones – the silent exaltations of his name – the lips that never did claim his own…

A last shuddering breath passes through the tanned lips and all is quiet save for the howling wind dragging black ashes into the sky.

God grants an easy death only to the just. – Svetlana Alliluyeva

A/N: Begging forgiveness for the delay once again…Goodness, I'm tired of waiting up on the Bleach manga wondering which Arrancar survives… So here, everyone's just dead – I do so like them better that way; screw the canon.

So… after four months I finally gave this its end. I brushed over most of the battle scenes because I (can't write them to save my bleeding arse) wanted to focus more on the characters themselves. Seriously, though, you can't expect me to give a blow-by-blow account of Grimmjow's battle with Kurosaki; Ulquiorra's too. We all know what happened anyway. :3

And I love the quote at the end which I randomly found and thought, 'Hell yea!'. Seriously, the bad guys are treated WAY too badly… My heart always feels for them villains.

Notes:

(1) I decided to go with involving the anime subplot of that underground Hueco Mundo-thing… the Menos Forest stuff, I believe. Gives a longer time for our dear Espadas to brew… I didn't think they'd eagerly disobey Aizen if Kurosaki's group had instantly gotten into the Palace… so yeah, more time for itching for a battle.

(2) Bleach Vol.29, pages 75-80/The start of chapter 255 – Szayel ordered the Exequias on Dordonh just after his defeat, courtesy of Kurosaki, so he could analyze the substitute reaper's reiatsu. What I wrote ISN'T really what the Octava found out, it's just an assumption. :)

(3) I've always wondered why Ulquiorra went out of his way to kill off Kurosaki the first time when he never could go against Aizen's orders. Hide secrets, yes, but disobey, never. So~ I thought there must be a hidden agenda. x)

… I totally screamed when I finished this (well, a suppressed scream, anyway) and then I cried tears of joy and then I dropped dead. Hello sunrise~! :D

Lot's of love to everybody~!!