WIP AizenxUlquiorra...Mostly Ulquiorra pt 1
Title - Um…AizUlqWIP
Disclaimer - Don't own any of the characters, I just lock myself in my room and make them bend to my muse's will.
Rating - So far pretty pg…I suppose there is some T for teen stuff…not M yet.
Word Count - Total 21,776
Warning - The only one I can think of is…boy!love…um, angst?
Summary - After being cleansed by Ichigo Ulquiorra wakes up not-a-day older in Soul Society now Whole (*snicker at pun*), only to find himself captured by understanding shinigami instead of killed by them.
It didn’t hurt.
Not like one expected disintegrating might feel. One moment his view was filled with the tear-filled eyes of the Inoue woman, then the startling black sky with its brilliant stabs of light…the silver sliver of moon…
Then nothing.
Whatever they were, the Powers that Be seemed to think he was deserving of something other than being Sōsuke Aizen’s Cuatro. It also seemed these Powers, hadn’t even bothered to ask Ulquiorra Cifer what it was he wanted to do.
Outside of serving Aizen however, Ulquiorra wasn’t quite sure what the answer to that was.
When he woke, it was to a terrain much different than that of the desolate sands of Hueco Mundo, above him were what he knew to be leaves, thousands upon thousands, filtering a light that put any light source in Las Noches to shame. The sun. He was laying in the center of a wooded area, the furry green grass lush underneath him bringing his attention to the fact that he was naked.
Sharp green eyes blinked at that realization.
With a shift of his spine he sent signals to lift arms, finding both of them intact and fleshy. He was no longer in his second resurrection his talons now soft-looking buffed nails, no longer even blackened like they had been while in his sealed form. His skin wasn’t as pale either, it was more beige and his verdant gaze moved up the appendage as he squeezed his hand into a fist and the muscles of his arm flexed under the skin.
Ulquiorra sat up and looked down, taking note that the slight tone change of his skin had taken place along every inch of his body. He glanced down muscular legs to his feet as he curled his toes then uncurled them splaying them out as far as he could.
His hand moved up to touch his chest of its own accord, and he didn’t realize what he was looking for until he felt its absence.
No hollow hole.
While the fingers of his right hand prodded the spot centered below his clavicles where there should have been nothing, his left hand lifted to spear into hair that surprised him with its softness, and lack of mask.
Feeling more vulnerable than even that last moment on the dome of Las Noches, a broken noise left his now-pink lips.
So much was gone.
No hollow hole.
No mask.
No…
“Aizen-sama,” Whispered from his lips as he slumped and let himself lie prone in the tall grass again, eyes squeezed shut as he let his arms fall out to his sides. He didn’t even have his sword; symbol of the life his lord had helped bore him into.
An existence he had thought had ended.
Aizen-sama will not be pleased when he returns to see what has become of Las Noches, Ulquiorra thought to himself although he was mostly sure the ex-shinigami hadn’t been intending to return. Somehow he had found a way to hope his master wouldn’t leave him without his presence.
Strange the usual ache of emptiness in his chest was still there, he’d thought it had been connected to his hollow hole. Odd. He made himself sit back up and rolled to his feet, only to find them as weak as a newborn foal’s. Thankfully there was a tree close and his hand darted out to catch, almost moving at a speed more normal to him.
As he stood there trying to remember how to use his legs he couldn’t help but stare at the back of his hand, it looked human--
“Damnation.”
Was he human? Many more curses streamed through his mind as he tested his legs and found them able to support him. Having spent most of his existence as a hollow naked there was no shame in him now as he set out to find answers, be it from other humans or his own eyes.
He came into a clearing filled with tiny vivid points of color among the green grass high enough to brush his shins. The sun fell on his shoulders and he craned his head back to look up in to a patch of blue sky that shown through the canopy. The warmth was amazing and the sight of the tiny white puffs of clouds reminded him of Aizen’s artful hand on the ceiling of the Las Noches dome.
Squinting as the brilliant gold sun came into view Ulquiorra paused in the wild-flowered meadow to wonder why he had never felt this warmth while standing atop the buildings of Las Noches looking at his lord’s handiwork. Unsought the sight brought to mind the large rend in said handiwork he had created in his battle with the Kurosaki boy.
He had intended to fix the blight after dispatching with the teen but that…had been problematical.
Not wanting to leave the warmth of the golden rays green eyes closed to the memory-inducing sight, face still upturned toward it. It was strange this feeling that he should just lie down and stay.
Shaking shaggy raven hair from his face he lowered his head and took a deep breath to calm himself before pushing forward out of the meadow through the thinning trees. The sun was more prevalent the direction he was going, he hoped it meant the end of this forest.
He came upon a flat grassland, the trees only small collections here and there. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to do so but suddenly he felt he wasn’t going fast enough, his legs were past the teetering equine stage so they handled the transition into running easily.
Wherever he was going it was close.
Where was he going?
Whatever the answer, his solution to the problem of getting there was answered with sonido.
Like it had only been waiting for him to call for it, his spiritual pressure spiked around him and he disappeared only to reappear many yards shy of his target with a stumble that sent him rolling across the grass. The squeeze of the space around him was different, his reiatsu was…different.
He was different.
Climbing to his feet with a wince, Ulquiorra was dubious when the delicate skin of his new form picked up scrapes and bruises frighteningly easier than his hierro. He shook his head and focused on the glide of his own spiritual pressure.
It too was warmer than normal, although in this instance it wasn’t really temperature…Like there was more behind it than before.
Puzzled Ulquiorra moved at a more sedate pace, wondering also at the sense of urgency clawing at his chest as if to tear out his newly beating heart.
Heart.
Maybe that was what was wrong with him.
“Cursed woman.”
Ahead in the distance he saw a line of trees, a sheer cliff-face growing straight up out of them like an imposing wall. As his green eyes fell upon it his heart sang--
Ulquiorra stopped and lowered his gaze until he was looking down at his own chest, his hand touching the thudding where it erupted from the left side of his torso. He wasn’t running anymore, and it had hardly been hard enough to make the organ behave so.
What was this place that affected him so?
With a long bracing breath Ulquiorra threw his spiritual pressure forward and himself into sonido this time anticipating the lack of support from his hierro he put up a buffer first and made it as far as he intended.
Or he was sure he would have if the ground hadn’t very suddenly become the sky.
Ulquiorra threw his arms out and compensated for the upheaval wishing he had his tail for extra balance as he slammed his eyes closed and threw himself into another sonido. When he attempted to get a glance of his surroundings, upside-down or not he found that he had moved in the opposite direction.
“Stop my friend,” A deep voice boomed and very soon every ounce of Ulquiorra’s spiritual pressure was focused on breathing and keeping on his feet instead of debased with his face in the grass. It felt as if there was an ocean bearing down on him, he gasped, entirely too much white showing as his eyes got progressively wider and his breathing more shallow. “Drop it Hirako.”
When the world around him suddenly righted itself he did fall to one knee but he dug deep trying desperately to find even a fraction of his old power. Power to fight the calming reiatsu as it tried to soothe him into giving in, the reiatsu that seemed to grow infinitely to overpower his as he drew even more out of himself than he thought possible in his weakened state.
For a moment Ulquiorra found he couldn’t breath and he could no longer keep himself from lying prone in the grass.
“I am not going to harm you Cuatro-san,” The voice said again and suddenly its owner’s sandaled feet stepped into his line of sight spiritual pressure lessened enough to allow Ulquiorra to breathe with ease.
“Stay down Espada-san,” Another voice called humming in a pleased-with-himself way.
“Hirako it seems your suspicions were true,” The shinigami before him adjusted the weight distribution on his feet as if leaning in another direction before Ulquiorra heard the unmistakable sound of a sword being sheathed. “Do you think number nine will do?”
“Maybe if it’s yers Jū-taichō,” The self-pleased voice gave a low chuckle. “He does need t’be able to walk.”
“Bakudō number four Hōrin,” Came soft but firm and Ulquiorra felt the chain of kidō more than saw it. As it twisted around him, pinning his arms to his sides the spiritual pressure holding him down almost vanished.
It was no surprise to the ex-arrancar that it couldn’t be completely contained, but knowing that made a small thrill of fear wash down his spine because he had once had power that might have rivaled this one. It was that knowledge along with the direction the two shinigami led him as soon as he was on his feet: the opposite direction he had been going.
As the bound man’s heart lurched he knew that he must go there.
“Whoa!” The blond beside him lifted his zanpakutō the handle-grip a circle of metal around his clenched hand as Ulquiorra dug his feet into the ground and took advantage of the white-haired taichō’s contained spiritual pressure.
Knowing that there would only be moments before the old one was suffocating him with his reiatsu again he didn’t hold back, he felt the sizzle of the kidō as he resisted and pushed out with his power as it skyrocketed, eager to please it’s master. It seemed the more he asked for the more came, as if he only had to ask for Segunda Etapa and he would have it, call for Murciélago and he would come--
“Bakudō number sixty-three Sajō Sabaku,” Came but not half a second later and the added pressure of the high level kidō made Ulquiorra wheeze as pale hands pulled it tight around him. “I said I will not harm you and I won’t, but you must stop fighting…relax your spiritual pressure.”
“Just put the collar on him--”
“It would simply explode while it’s this out of control,” The older shinigami protested meeting the rebelling former-espada’s eyes. “Cuatro-san we are on your side at the moment, don’t make us regret our disobedience for your sake.”
“Why would either of you do such a thing?” Ulquiorra turned to the one with the calm-reiatsu, not lowering the level of his spiritual pressure but not focusing it on the bonds wrapped tightly around him.
“Yer in a no-fly zone and all the reiatsu sensors the twelfth has around here told us exactly where you ripped yer garganta open,” The blond’s voice broke in and that along with the fool’s idiocy set Ulquiorra’s nerves on edge.
“I cannot even fly at the moment, nor did I come here through garganta,” He sent a look over his shoulder at the blond and although his expression was as blasé as ever, there was no mistaking the insult in his green eyes.
“We didn’t know that at the time, Hirako here thought that somehow when you’d been cleansed by Kurosaki-kun you came here instead of Hell,” The taller pale man shrugged off his white haori and wrapped it over the bound man’s shoulders.
“We volunteered t’come fetch ya instead of the execution squad Suì-Fēng was itchin’ sic on ya,” The other finished, a hand suddenly on Ulquiorra’s elbow through both haori and kidō to guide him along.
The result was more spiritual pressure and a re-digging of his heels into the ground, bucking back and an attempt to wrench away from the both of them.
“Hirako,” Barked from the white-haired man, the loudest Ulquiorra had heard him speak, the reason he had been made taichō obvious in the tone of his voice.
As Ulquiorra watched the blond shinigami gave a curse and in a flurry of white captain’s haori (how had he not noticed him wearing it?) he flash stepped away. Green eyes darted back to the other man in time to see the sincere regret setting his dark eyebrows seconds before he let go the wall holding in his reiatsu, more than even before.
Yes the uncomfortable press of kidō chain vanished from around his sensitive new skin but when it felt as if sand had filled his lungs and pushed him down until he was writhing on the ground wheezing for air, this was hardly succor. He focused his spiritual pressure on just that task but it became harder to do as his head started to spin.
Whose idea was it to make the dead need to breathe?
When the taichō spoke it seemed as if it was from far away but there was no mistaking the sorrow in his voice simply because he was currently being suffocated with a calming sea of spiritual pressure with an intent so woeful it almost seemed to wail. “I’m sorry Cuatro-san.”
Then nothing.
#
“Ulquiorra.”
Green eyes pivoted in their sockets to meet brown, “Hai, Aizen-sama?”
“Let’s have tea,” Sounded like a suggestion but all three words were unmistakably an order.
Never allowing the task done by the hands of números Ulquiorra had given a shallow bow, “Hai, Aizen-sama.” Then exited to the nearest kitchen to prepare his lord’s tea.
Having perfected the task of making a tea tray for Aizen with a combination of the contraptions he’d filled the kitchen with and his reiatsu, Ulquiorra did so in the usual five minute record. There really was no way to go about making it faster that didn’t begin sacrificing quality, and his lord noticed such things with his delicate pallet.
“Already Ulquiorra?” Aizen asked from his spot perched on his throne, an elbow propping his head up where his chin rested indolently in the palm of his hand. “You are a wonder.”
It was the first time Ulquiorra remembered Aizen complimenting him, at the time he hadn’t understood what it meant but as the ex-shinigami smiled at him he’d felt heat both in his face and lower, much lower than was proper for the relationship of Lord and Loyal Servant.
“Is that a blush Ulquiorra?” Aizen asked, brown eyes looking at him considering, he’d always feared his Cuatro unable to convey emotion, or not possessing it at all.
“I fear it is Aizen-sama,” Ulquiorra admitted as he shoved the feeling down where he kept most of his other emotions, they had their place and serving his lord was not one of them. “Gomenasai.”
“Don’t apologize,” Here Aizen waved one of his hands as he leaned forward to accept the teacup from the espada. “It’s cute,” He grinned and teased before turning his attention to tasting his tea. “Ah perfect as usual.”
“I am glad it pleases you,” Ulquiorra murmured quickly realizing that he might be misunderstood to mean the display of embarrassment not the quality of his tea-making.
And sure enough, “You could do it more often and I wouldn’t mind.”
Although the Cuatro knew he was being teased again he tried to steer the conversation to safer territory, “I always make your tea.”
“Goodness, you can be modest and coy…Ulquiorra…” Somehow the desert lord had no problem making just the raven-haired espada’s name mean countless things, most of them going right over Ulquiorra’s head. Not that he noticed. “Such a beautiful creation.”
“I am as you made me.”
“You were this being long before I came around.”
“I had no concern for modesty nor being ‘coy’ as you put it before I was made an arrancar Aizen-sama,” Ulquiorra looked at him a little baffled, although it was merely the most minute shift in one eyebrow that would clue anyone in to that affliction.
“I only brought out what was within with the help of the hogyoku,” Aizen mused as he held his cup out in silent bid for a refill.
Holding the teapot in his hand Ulquiorra leaned forward and did so, nodding as his lord quietly thanked him.
“Join me.”
“I am already on your side Aizen-sama,” Ulquiorra replied.
“Silly,” Aizen shook his head, the lock of brown hair that curled down his forehead shifted out of place. “I mean have a cup with me.”
“I did not bring my cup,” Ulquiorra objected, empty hand fisted in his pocket to contain the twitch of his fingers as he was overwhelmed with the urge to fix the errant curl of brown hair. It was true, there were cups that Ichimaru Gin had handed out as a joke to all the espada with the statement that it was a required item to bring to all meetings, and Ulquiorra’s was sitting in it’s place of honor, freshly scrubbed back in the Cuatro’s quarters.
“The kitchen is right there, set the pot down and fetch one for yourself.”
Part of Ulquiorra wanted to object but all of him wanted to obey Aizen so the desire was moot. “As you wish Aizen-sama,” He gave another bow of his head before gently setting the teapot down on the tray and leaving to get a cup from the kitchen then quickly returning.
“Good! Here let me pour for you,” Aizen lifted the teapot -- Ulquiorra had sworn he had put the tea tray too far for him to reach without getting up -- and beckoned him closer with his other hand.
“My Lord--” Ulquiorra’s voice came out as the weakest of protests, it was in fact one of the first and few times he had argued with Aizen.
“Sshh,” Aizen hissed before giving a few tsks of his tongue. “Cup,” His firm order had pale hands extending their borrowed cup toward him. “There’s a good Cuatro,” Aizen crooned and Ulquiorra had the mind to fight the blush this time, push it down, even if he had almost been ordered to do so more frequently.
“Arigatō gozimashita,” Ulquiorra murmured almost reverently as someone poured tea for him…Aizen poured tea for him. He waited a moment, unsure when Aizen rested the teapot on the thick arm of his throne. “Allow me--”
“No I might want more and you’re busy enjoying the fruits of your labor…It’s nice to do once and a while, I should know,” He sipped his tea and looked up expectantly at his fourth.
Ulquiorra drank his tea, standing his usual four feet to the left and one step back from the throne.
“Don’t tell me you don’t drink tea outside the meetings I call.”
Since it was really kind of a command to lie to him Ulquiorra shook his head, then realized he did actually drink tea per se outside of meetings. “When I make yours I make sure it is correctly made.”
“Oh…” Came out disappointed and Ulquiorra was curious as to why that would be, he’d obeyed. “I meant to enjoy it…Like I do?”
“…” Ulquiorra looked at him and in answer sipped his tea, not knowing what to tell him.
“Could you sit, you’re making me feel rude.”
“I always stand Sire.”
“But you’re drinking tea with me right now, taking a break…”
Ulquiorra looked around and wondered what he was supposed to sit on, there was really only the throne, and he couldn’t mean to share it with him…although he was sharing his tea. Green eyes darted to brown, to see they were staring at him in bemused interest. “I should stand.”
“Sit.”
As the Cuatro let out a long-suffering sigh and started to sit on the top stair of the throne’s dais Aizen pointed to a spot much closer, not his lap, but almost at his feet.
“Did you just sigh at me Ulquiorra?” Aizen asked as the espada moved closer so he could sit on the top stair not even a foot away from the enthroned man’s black boots. The ex-shinigami still had a smile on his face, and these days Ulquiorra had noticed his lord had not shown such an emotion, it was hardly smug at all and it was small like he was attempting to curtail it but failed abysmally.
“Apologies Aizen-sama it was not at you but because of the vocalization that I should sit…also that I ever take a break,” He proved his point by sitting and taking a sip of his tea.
“That is at me…” Aizen surprised him with only a slight chiding tint to his voice before he asked, “You do sleep, don’t you?”
Since one of the rules was to make sure to be healthy and ready for battle at a moment’s notice, Ulquiorra suspected he was being tested somehow. “Yes, but it is just a different state for me to wait in until you give me your next order.”
The Cuatro couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly changed about Aizen at that statement. Although his head was still tilted to indicate his interest in said words, the avid curiosity of his gaze seemed to warm and melt into something different but no less curious. “You know part of me wants you to be capable of disobeying me.”
“I could,” Ulquiorra told the truth, he didn’t have any secrets from the other man…Perhaps except for the feeling of that stare of Aizen’s, and how inappropriately it made him writhe inside. His already ramrod-straight spine snapped even straighter as he noticed the relaxing of the ex-taichō’s shields, the reiatsu didn’t so much as drift toward him as it unfurled as if with a mind of its own. “I was made to serve you.”
“You were made to fight too,” Aizen amended spiritual pressure washing along Ulquiorra’s where it toughened his hierro and protected him from being crushed by his lord’s reiatsu presence.
“Would you prefer I insolently question your every word and brandish infantile symbols of fornication like Jaegerjaquez?”
“It’s called the middle finger and I’ve come to notice it’s really just his way of saluting me, he always does what I tell him to,” Aizen grinned and watched his espada shake his head ruefully. “I can almost hear your sigh again Ulquiorra.”
“I do not know how. I succeeded in suppressing the urge,” The corner of one lip actually twitched downward, an Ulquiorra frown of consternation.
“You did but I’ve been watching you since I made you an arrancar, you have tells, others would not notice I think.”
“You watch me so closely?” Ulquiorra asked, not having seen such observation from his lord (knowing his eyes were either watching out for danger or at Aizen to attend to his every need).
“Also I can sense it in your reiatsu, once I’ve got a sense of your spiritual pressure you’re like an open book.”
“I am hardly an open book,” Was replied almost like he was arguing with Aizen, something the despot noticed pleased. In his mind Ulquiorra knew he didn’t even try to think about what emotions permeated his energy but made up for that lack of control with having a marvelous handle on his reiatsu, hardly a drop slipped past his defenses.
As if he had wanted that answer the small smile that Ulquiorra had been enjoying grew into something more like his smug I-Just-Trolled-Soul-Society grin. “Ah, then why do I know of your exasperation?”
“I would think by now you are aware at how trying you can be…Sire,” He tacked on as he realized the words that had slipped so freely from him and told himself it was an effect of doing something as off routine as sitting at Aizen’s feet drinking tea with him. Again Ulquiorra is struck with the mental image of the ex-shinigami’s sword-calloused hands carefully pouring tea for him.
“Trying?” The word made him chuckle and the rich sound did funny things to the Cuatro among them, making the empty feeling in his chest not ache as painfully.
Ulquiorra found that particular easement only afflicted him while in his lord’s presence.
“At times you can be difficult,” Ulquiorra explained further.
“So I frustrate you?” Aizen asked, and although the question seemed fairly straightforward the spark of heat in them spoke of a deeper meaning.
“Only occasionally, you are emotional and I do not understand all the nuances of your behavior.”
“You have them what’s not to understand?” One of Aizen’s brown eyebrows lifted above the other; nearly an inch and green eyes flicker toward it then back down into the other man’s eyes.
“Most of them,” Was easily admitted, Ulquiorra had no shame, he didn’t really understand that much either.
“So you don’t understand why I would examine you so keenly?” Was almost whispered but Ulquiorra’s sensitive ears heard it easily.
“Examining your creation for flaws and weakness,” Ulquiorra stated matter-of-factly.
“Hardly,” Aizen scoffed at both the idea his espada had either of those things to look for and that Ulquiorra could even think such a thing about why brown eyes sought his pale form out at any moment afforded them.
“I do not understand,” Ulquiorra admitted, drinking his tea while still warm. Without the warmer the teapot sat on while on the tea tray or Ulquiorra’s reiatsu-warmed hands the espada knew it only had a few more minutes before it went cold.
“Do you understand how you feel right now?” Aizen asked and with the question the flavor of his spiritual pressure changed subtly, intent warming and ever so slowly rubbing along the pale skin over the nape of the Cuatro’s neck. “How I feel?”
#
Onward to part deux...yes I used 'deux' >3>