Not For Anything
FOREVER WAS SO MANY DIFFERENT THINGS
For
31_days •
14th JulySeries: Bleach
Characters: Ulquiorra, Orihime
Rating: PG-13
All characters belong to Kubo Taitou and Shounen Jump
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The human heart is a hollow, muscular, fist-sized organ that pumps blood through a network of blood vessels.
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It was not that it bothered him.
The division between 'god' and 'creation' blurs and fades with an Arrancar, who is both created and defiled. There is no room for the unknown in the mind of an entity that has crossed death, that emerges from corrupted particles of a soul. There is no memory; what dies as the physical body dies (once upon a time they were all bottom feeders in the human world) stays dead. Why, there was probably nobody left alive who would remember what he once was, when he was one of the weaker kind.
Time flowed differently for an Arrancar; curiosity belonged to the realm of the flesh, the realm of beings that knew nothing, that saw dimly beyond their capacity. An Arrancar's vision was all-encompassing.
It was not that he was unsure, because his orders were clear, and in the singular world of the Arrancar, orders were disseminated accordingly in black and white. Power formed the framework of their hierarchies, and power taught them to both deny it (always there was someone looking for a chance to cannibalise his superiors; for instance, Grimmjoww) and to acknowledge it (not quite fear, and not quite respect). There is no room for doubt for a being that did not believe.
From where does this unseen force come to her, and where does it go that it seems to pull what she holds dear up--up and up and up from whatever pit he found himself in--like strings on a marionette?
Far away, somewhere in the deadness of Hueco Mundo (the movement of matter transmitted itself differently to Arrancar like him; vaguely they felt intrusions in their home surroundings), there was the boy, making his futile way forward, inch by inch, crawling across time. This boy Ichigo still existed, and it was not out of anything that he'd wished somebody without more pressing orders would go ahead and eliminate him.
Before him: the girl, human flesh, breakable by not even a tenth of his weakest release. There wasn't a hint of reiatsu he could detect from her, not a pinch of spiritual matter (it was all restrained in this environment anyway) that told him she was aiding Ichigo outright, but there was something.
"How is it that you keep...convincing yourself that he will come?" You know the odds are against you.
She did not even know. For all the girl and her kind lacked, this thing, this will that refused to acknowledge logic, seemed to be powerful enough to keep her whole, sane. This was, perhaps, by value of being the weakest thing that a person could have, also the most powerful bankai.
Matter decayed differently for Arrancar, who could phase in and out of spiritual particles as their zanpakuto released their forms and merged. Her closed hand was as big as his Hollow hole. It surprised him to find that somehow, he had always known that.
And it wasn't for anything but a little wishful thinking, that maybe if he could press his palm against hers--to compare, of course--for a moment he could imagine what it felt like to have that hollow part of him plugged, that restful vacuum of nothingness be occupied by a place, a face.
Time diminishes differently for an Arrancar. He could count the pores in her hand as she reached out to him, even as his own peppered away to nothingness. And in the spaces between her fingers, there it was.
Crossposted to 31_days •
kurosaki_clinic •
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