Bleach fic: "Fair Play" [Gin, Ulquiorra]
Title: Fair Play
Characters: Gin Ichimaru, Ulquiorra Cifer (implied Gin/Ran; a smidgen of UlquiHime)
Rating: PG
Word count: 572
Warning for thinly disguised melodrama. Input very welcomed.
Ulquiorra Cifer cared about nothing.
Which consequently made him the least interesting of all the espada to Gin Ichimaru. The Fourth Espada was a stone. No secret longings or concealed fears; no hidden passions to prick and exploit. Ulquiorra obeyed Aizen's orders without relish, hesitation, or commentary.
A cold, unmovable, and very boring stone.
Or so Gin thought, until the evening when, half-haunting, half-strolling the corridors of Las Noches in an attempt to stave off the tedium, he rounded a corner to see the arrancar paused outside the captured human girl's cell. Hands buried in his pockets of his white jacket; gaze focused absently on the floor. Lingering.
Gin scented weakness like a snake sniffs a nest.
"Good evening, Ulquiorra," he said, with an easy, amiable smile as he stepped closer. "How is the poor thing tonight? Still crying?"
Ulquiorra turned. His skin was paper white in the corridor's pale artificial light; the tracks beneath his eyes like strokes of wet ink. The eyes themselves were steady, guileless.
"She is adjusting exactly as Aizen-sama predicted."
"Hmm," acknowledged Gin without interest. "Such a pretty girl," he sighed. "Beautiful orange hair. One could easily lose one's head over her."
The irritated look Ulquiorra gave him indicated clearly he found the suggestion too ridiculous to answer.
"I'm not making you angry am I?" Gin asked, politely, hopefully. "You can trust me completely, if you require a sympathetic ear. I once knew a pretty girl like that, before I left the Soul Society. Tragic tale of separation. It's sure to surprise you. I can tell you all about it, but you must promise not to share with anyone." Gin wagged a finger for emphasis pressed it against his curved lips.
"Why would I be surprised?"
"Eh?"
"Why would it surprise me that you left her?" repeated Ulquiorra.
"What do you mean by that?" Gin asked suspiciously. He felt the control of the situation slip yet there was nothing hostile or rebellious in the arrancar's mildly curious gaze.
"For those who serve Aizen-sama and his will, there can be no other loyalties. This is absolute." Ulquiorra's eyes shifted in the direction of the girl's cell and Gin wondered with fleeting contempt if the other was even aware of his action. "If you had loyalty to any one at the Soul Society, you would not have joined with Aizen-sama. Attachment or regret for anything you left behind would be foolishness." Ulquiorra spoke without bitterness, the words cool, measured, final. His attention shifted back to Gin.
"Everything now divides you."
Gin frowned.
"Don't you have things you should be doing?" A thin harshness scratched the smooth cadence of his voice. He felt the fingers of his right hand brush against Shinsou.
Ulquiorra dipped his head in deference and turned, his steps echoing hollowly along the corridor. Gin considered stabbing him.
"Funny, don't you think?" he called out instead to the espada's retreating back. "We share a similar type!"
The results were unsatisfactory. Ulquiorra ignored him and the associations Gin felt were anything but pleasant. He suddenly hated everything in Hueco Mundo. Hated the sand, the whiteness, hated the endless identical corridors. Hated the dryness in his mouth. Hated the longing he suddenly felt for color, for real sunlight and wind, for drunken laughter and the taste of sake on a woman's lips. Hated the sudden kaleidoscope of memories and sensations he wanted and knew would never be his again.
X-posted to ginran and kurosaki_clinic.
Characters: Gin Ichimaru, Ulquiorra Cifer (implied Gin/Ran; a smidgen of UlquiHime)
Rating: PG
Word count: 572
Warning for thinly disguised melodrama. Input very welcomed.
Ulquiorra Cifer cared about nothing.
Which consequently made him the least interesting of all the espada to Gin Ichimaru. The Fourth Espada was a stone. No secret longings or concealed fears; no hidden passions to prick and exploit. Ulquiorra obeyed Aizen's orders without relish, hesitation, or commentary.
A cold, unmovable, and very boring stone.
Or so Gin thought, until the evening when, half-haunting, half-strolling the corridors of Las Noches in an attempt to stave off the tedium, he rounded a corner to see the arrancar paused outside the captured human girl's cell. Hands buried in his pockets of his white jacket; gaze focused absently on the floor. Lingering.
Gin scented weakness like a snake sniffs a nest.
"Good evening, Ulquiorra," he said, with an easy, amiable smile as he stepped closer. "How is the poor thing tonight? Still crying?"
Ulquiorra turned. His skin was paper white in the corridor's pale artificial light; the tracks beneath his eyes like strokes of wet ink. The eyes themselves were steady, guileless.
"She is adjusting exactly as Aizen-sama predicted."
"Hmm," acknowledged Gin without interest. "Such a pretty girl," he sighed. "Beautiful orange hair. One could easily lose one's head over her."
The irritated look Ulquiorra gave him indicated clearly he found the suggestion too ridiculous to answer.
"I'm not making you angry am I?" Gin asked, politely, hopefully. "You can trust me completely, if you require a sympathetic ear. I once knew a pretty girl like that, before I left the Soul Society. Tragic tale of separation. It's sure to surprise you. I can tell you all about it, but you must promise not to share with anyone." Gin wagged a finger for emphasis pressed it against his curved lips.
"Why would I be surprised?"
"Eh?"
"Why would it surprise me that you left her?" repeated Ulquiorra.
"What do you mean by that?" Gin asked suspiciously. He felt the control of the situation slip yet there was nothing hostile or rebellious in the arrancar's mildly curious gaze.
"For those who serve Aizen-sama and his will, there can be no other loyalties. This is absolute." Ulquiorra's eyes shifted in the direction of the girl's cell and Gin wondered with fleeting contempt if the other was even aware of his action. "If you had loyalty to any one at the Soul Society, you would not have joined with Aizen-sama. Attachment or regret for anything you left behind would be foolishness." Ulquiorra spoke without bitterness, the words cool, measured, final. His attention shifted back to Gin.
"Everything now divides you."
Gin frowned.
"Don't you have things you should be doing?" A thin harshness scratched the smooth cadence of his voice. He felt the fingers of his right hand brush against Shinsou.
Ulquiorra dipped his head in deference and turned, his steps echoing hollowly along the corridor. Gin considered stabbing him.
"Funny, don't you think?" he called out instead to the espada's retreating back. "We share a similar type!"
The results were unsatisfactory. Ulquiorra ignored him and the associations Gin felt were anything but pleasant. He suddenly hated everything in Hueco Mundo. Hated the sand, the whiteness, hated the endless identical corridors. Hated the dryness in his mouth. Hated the longing he suddenly felt for color, for real sunlight and wind, for drunken laughter and the taste of sake on a woman's lips. Hated the sudden kaleidoscope of memories and sensations he wanted and knew would never be his again.
X-posted to ginran and kurosaki_clinic.