Footprints in the Sand [27/?]
She was standing upon white sands. It was dark, and barren, and the only light they possessed was that of an incomplete moon hanging in the night sky. But there was something horribly wrong with the scene; the night sky seemed to be cracking, the moon was falling apart and bleeding into the velvety sky, and the sands shifted restlessly in the distance. As she stood, however, she felt a comforting warmth at her back, but before she could wonder at it, she noticed figures in the distance. One was a dark body looking to be nothing more than a shadow, like a black vapor that shifted endlessly and, yet, seemed to hold visible form. Her eyes moved next to the figure in white, and she gasped as she recognized his features.
“Ulquiorra…”
He didn’t move, but his eyes, too, were wide in disbelief at the sight of her standing there upon his sand, in his world.
“Woman…?”
At his voice, she took one step, and then another, her heart beating frantically within her but feeling so far away at the same time. “You…you’re alright?” The words didn’t feel right in her own mouth. She had seen him dissolve into nothing with her own eyes…
Still Ulquiorra did not move; certainly reality had slipped from him, and this was merely a dream. How else could such a thing be possible? Murcielago looked up at him, his neck cocked to the side and his claws clicking impatiently.
“No reason to be shy now, Ulquiorra. You are quite sane.” The spirit produced a dark wing and pushed Ulquiorra forward. “You don’t have time to be indecisive.”
Ulquiorra gave the spirit a cold glance but moved forward on his own, assured that this was, at least, some form of reality.
“You should not be here, woman,” he told her finally as he approached, though his voice was not as cold as it usually was. “This is my inner world, and it is all that is left of my broken soul.”
Her eyes saddened and she looked briefly at Murcielago, who stood away from them. “You mean, you really are gone?”
“Correct.”
A tremor rippled across the desert, and Orihime had to fight to catch her balance. “What’s going on? This seems…” she looked up at the sky where the moon’s light seemed to be blending into the night sky as if they were no more than watercolors on a canvas. “This place seems like it’s falling apart…”
“It is.”
Her face suddenly held a horrified look as she returned her gaze to his face. “No! I am going to save you, Ulquiorra! I was trying to right before…” she trailed off, knowing he would understand. He watched to see her eyes held unfaltering conviction at what she spoke of, and he felt an alien warmth in his chest.
Perhaps it was because of this feeling that his eyes now conveyed something akin to tenderness as he looked at her. “Woman, I do not want you to.”
Her eyes were so bright with emotion and her voice quivered as she tried, “But, I really want to…I have to help you, I promised myself I would…you…you…” Her voice faltered, unable to continue as she looked searchingly into his vibrant eyes.
Still, the espada shook his head, and he watched as the hope left her eyes and tears sprang into them instead. She looked so defeated, and he felt hurt himself, but he had already decided what he had to do. It had been decided once he had stood up against his other self, and he could not take it back.
“I don’t blame you, for not wanting me to…if your life was really sad, if you don’t want to live anymore…I understand, and really, what can I offer to make it seem better? Nothing.” She wrapped her arms around herself and looked down. “I have always lived far too optimistically about everything. I realize it now. Life doesn’t always come out the way you want it to, right? You see a much sharper reality than I ever have. I wish I had your eyes, in a way, but would I be strong enough to live like that? I don’t know…”
Ulquiorra looked away a moment. He knew this confession had been born from her sadness and guilt, but it troubled him that she would think this, or wish it for herself. Was it truly so, that each craved what the other held? Did she crave his eyes that saw no illusion within them the same way that he craved hers that held such hope?
“Inoue Orihime,” he said gently, and she looked up at him again. “You misunderstand me. I am not prepared to die.”
Finally she looked up again, her brows furrowing. “You’re not?”
“No, I’m not. And while it is true that your optimism borders on naiveté, that does not mean I have a better view of life and living than you do. I am only able to keep this world intact because I have decided to embrace some of your ideals. Otherwise, surely I would have let this place crumble and die and be gone with it.”
She was silent for a moment and then she asked in a small voice, “Then…why can’t I help you?”
Ulquiorra sighed deeply and felt Murcielago’s piercing stare upon him. “Simply because I wish for control of my own soul, for once. Remember I have served Aizen up until now. If I am to survive this, I wish it to be by my own suffering and determination to do so. Would you not wish for the same?”
“I would,” she admitted, her eyes soft but distant, “I…understand what you mean.”
They were silent for a moment, looking at one another. Ulquiorra felt tormented, inside, just watching her standing there, a mere arm’s reach away, but knowing that he would have to let her go for a second time. If he had been his previous self, he would have grabbed her and forced her to stay with him in his dark world. But he could not now, and so even though he felt the temptation, he knew he would never act upon it.
“Ulquiorra,” Murcielago called softly from behind him, warning him that there wasn’t much time.
He forced himself to speak, finally, but felt himself stiffen at his own words. “You must return, woman. I am sure you have many battles ahead of you, and I have some myself.”
Orihime swallowed, clenched her fists, and nodded once, before hesitation revealed itself in her honest eyes. “Will…will the sun destroy this place? Is that the problem?” Her eyes fell upon the shadow that was Murcielago as she said it, and Ulquiorra inclined his head to look at the spirit as well. The shadow stalked forward a few paces before stopping and ruffling its wings.
“Inoue Orihime, you worry almost as much as Ulquiorra. Rest easy, that sun will not rise high enough to touch me.”
He cracked a fanged grin, and Orihime colored at the blunt spirits words. “Ah, um, I’m glad!” she managed shyly.
Ulquiorra turned back to her, slightly bemused, but as he looked upon her, his face fell. Was it a trick of the light or did her features appear to be thinning?
“I…hope you both make it,” she said, when he was unable to speak, and he nodded stiffly.
“Be wary; do not let your guard down,” he advised finally, unsure of what else he could say.
“No tears,” she reminded him, her lips quirking as they both remembered their past conversation. It seemed so long ago that he had advised her in such a way. How far both of them had come since then…
Suddenly, Ulquiorra knew exactly what it was that he wished to say, what he had been unable to when he faded. “You are strong, woman. That is how I view you, so do not forget it.”
Orihime gaped, a blush creeping upon her cheeks from the compliment. She opened her mouth to speak, but failed to do so.
“And, if you should forget it, then think of this,” Murcielago said, “It was not the hero, Kurosaki Ichigo, who stopped the 4th Espada, Ulquiorra Cifer, dead in his tracks. It was not the hero, Kurosaki Ichigo, who saved the only Epsada to reach a second stage of ressureccion. It was Inoue Orihime who did both of those things.”
She really did redden from that statement, her eyes shifting away in embarrassment. “Th-thank you,” she looked back glancing at them both shyly beneath her eyelashes. “I’ll remember.”
Ulquiorra knew now, definitively, that her image was fading, but the sun shining through made her look all the more angelic. After what seemed like forever, she looked back up at him, and within her eyes, he saw an emotion he had never held in his life as a hollow.
Hope.
“Thank you Ulquiorra,” she said, her voice strong and her face pure. “I feel, in my heart, that things will be ok. I believe in you!” Her hand was brought up and placed against her chest, right over her heart, as she spoke. She felt so much, always, and even now she wished to share her feelings with him. At least now he was willing to try and understand, and Ulquiorra felt a pang within his own chest at her action. He didn’t speak, but his eyes revealed an openness he had never shared with anyone else. Because of this, he felt she would understand.
Her image shimmered in its spot for only a moment more, and then she was gone from his world. Almost immediately the tightness in his chest increased and was followed by a void. It was an emptiness he was used to; usually it was a feeling that plagued him constantly, like it did all hollows. But its sudden reappearance reminded Ulquiorra that he had not, for these few moments, felt it at all.
“What a strange woman,” Murcielago commented idly when Ulquiorra didn’t speak.
Slowly, Ulquiorra brought his hand up to his chest. “The heart is painful, as I thought.”
The shadowy spirit moved to stand by Ulquiorra, his head cocked curiously. “Is it worth it?”
The edges of his world were crumbling; the night sky was darkening from deep navy blue to complete bottomless black at the far corners. Soon the blackness would fold in on them too, and the sun would be lost with them.
Ulquiorra closed his eyes to his dying world and saw things beyond the darkness. He saw the woman shakily stand and withdraw her shield. Her hands clenched at her sides as she gave one last look at the ashes before her. A second later, she turned, her hair a curtain of orange as she moved, and ran away from the place that had broken her. The place that had broken her and then given her new purpose. Away from the fifth tower that had changed two lives, and perhaps more.
Was it worth it? The question echoed within his barely conscious mind, and he felt that she, too, must wonder this. He had never felt such pain before and had never fought back against such a pain before either. It was worse, he thought, than the emptiness of a hollow. Heartache combined with the struggle to live.
Is it worth it? He felt Murcielago shift and wrap its dark wings about him and Ulquiorra knew the world beyond had fallen away. But, he now had his answer.
“Yes.” She said as she ran, her thoughts switching between what had just occurred and what might happen next. But her heart remained behind her, contained within that still settling pile of ash.
It was all worth it…
Till the last beat of my heart