Nightingale: Meal Time
Ulquiorra watched in apprehension as an Arrancar servant wheeled in a tray of food. It had been a full day since he had left the human world and now he was starving. Las Noches’ stifling atmosphere made him hesitant. His encounter with Aizen yesterday had given him a terrible headache. Perhaps this was another game? Off to the side by the doorway, stood the fourth espada, Orihime Inoue. When she noticed Ulquiorra’s questioning glance at her, she smiled cheekily at him.
“It’s meal time,” she explained in a bright voice. Ulquiorra swallowed thickly and watched distractedly as the nameless Arrancar left. He hadn’t had a chance to thank him for his meal...
“I didn’t know Arrancar ate human food,” he told Orihime quietly. His statement was more of a question. The secret fear that they were going to feed him the remains of a hollow caused him a great deal of anxiety. They were in Hueco Mundo afterall. Isn’t that what hollows did? Cannibalize each other? Ulquiorra wasn’t a hollow so it wouldn’t technically be cannibalization; but it didn’t sit well with him. Corrupt or not, that was still someone’s soul wasn’t it? His hunger was forgotten. What would his friends think?
Orihime noticed the human’s expression and giggled.
“Everyone has to eat, silly.”
Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like the woman’s games.
“Your vague words have done nothing to reassure me,” he told her in a clipped tone.
Orihime raised an eyebrow, surprised at his assertiveness. In the twenty four hours since his arrival, Ulquiorra had never once risen to her baiting. Still…
The fourth felt the familiar, but well hidden sensation of disgust coil in her stomach. What did he want her to say? Why was he questioning her? He knew what hollows were. Was he hoping that she didn’t eat souls? Or perhaps he was trying to mold her into something relatable with his own human habits to ease his fears. Orihime’s smile stretched so far across her face that if she were mortal, it would have hurt.
“You’re so silly! Everyone knows humans are dumb and fragile, but you don’t have to pretend anymore!” she told him in a happy, earnest voice. Then the facade melted away and her tone became soft and serious.
“You’re suppose to be better than that, Ulquiorra-kun.” Orihime thought of Aizen’s summons yesterday and how the green eyed human had resisted the hypnotic influence of Kyōka Suigetsu. He was suppose to be different.
“You’re naivety is insulting,” she told him in a playful conspiratory whisper. Her eyes were a little too bright and her smile a little too sharp. Ulquiorra shrunk away from her when she instinctively began to raise her reiatsu, as if she was threatened. His body movement and wild eyes forced Orihime to reign in her temper.
The disgust turned to bitter disappointment. Perhaps he wasn’t so different from the rest of his pathetic race after all. Shallow and hypocritical, the false shells of innocence and kindness slipped away as soon as fear reared it’s ugly head. It made even the most gentle and honest of humans into creatures of darkness. Once one of them was exposed to reality and survival, all their pretentious reserves of trust and courtesy away. The only difference between a hollow and a human was that in death they shed such vices until only the bar, ruthless necessities remained.
Ulquiorra watched his warden warily. Her moods were like quicksilver, always shifting and changing. She was a lot more dangerous than how she had originally presented herself. Then he thought of her smiles and teasing and how she called him ‘Ulquiorra-kun’ and how warm and intimate she had made him feel when she had given im his uniform. She had insinuated that she had liked his smell.
It couldn’t have all been an act, could it? His heart ached with the thought.
“I thought you were different,” he countered. Everything and everyone was so dead and cruel in Hueco Mundo. The woman’s bright countenance contrasted starkly with her sinister comrades. Or so he had thought.
Wishing to put an end to the conversation, Ulquiorra reached over to the food tray and lifted a large silver lid that had covered his plate. Once he saw the food underneath, he blanched. Pickled anchovies, red bean pasted eggs, garlic roasted marshmallows and pineapple soup … what was this stuff?! Who in their right mind would prepare food in such a way? Were those waffles smothered in toothpaste?
Orihime watched him thoughtfully, still trying to decipher Ulquiorra’s latest word. When she noticed his discomfort she smiled excitedly.
“I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty of preparing your rationed meal myself.” Orihime had never done such a thing before and despite the tediousness of it all, she had found it educational.
“I can’t eat this,” he told her deadpanned. Orihime only snorted.
“Of course you can.” She waved away his words like they were a joke.
“You belong to Lord Aizen now and until he says otherwise, one of your duties is to stay alive and in good health,” she told him in a sing-songy voice. Without waiting for his response, the fourth turned and headed toward the door.
The boy may not have been so different than any other human, but perhaps he could still be of some use. The fourth thought of that Substitute Soul Reaper, Rukia Kuchiki. The confrontation in the human world had left Orihime somewhat intrigued. She knew Aizen was intrigued too. The girl was no ordinary human. Despite her fluctuating reiatsu and unremarkable techniques, the threat was very much real. Then Orihime thought of her human ward sprawled out underneath her on the couch. How easily she manipulated him and how readily he had responded to her. His heart had been beating so fast! Of course it had been beating fast when he had said his intimate farewells to Rukia Kuchiki.
The potential was there.
“I will be back in one hour,” she told Ulquiorra playfully, as a plan formed in her mind. It was going to be so much fun.
“If your meal is not gone when I return, then we can play a new game.”