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Resolution	By : KaiBlueOtaku Category: Bleach > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 12664 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Bleach and all related characters are property of Tite Kubo. I recieve no payment for my writing.

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CHAPTER 3: “Separated”

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                Much later, after they had both washed up (again) and Orihime had been returned to her cell in clean clothes, Ulquiorra sat alone in his chamber on a cushion. His Zanupakto was laid across his lap, and his eyes were closed in concentration. Ulquiorra had heard of the Shinigami technique of Jinzen, or “Sword Meditation,” and it was this now that he was attempting. He knew that he was not a Soul Reaper, but perhaps he could borrow their technique to shed some light on his recent dilemma.

                It was not long before he found himself walking in mist. Whereas last time the mist had been white, this mist was dark. It seemed that no light shone in here, but still he was able to see. He felt something move swiftly past him in the black, and heard the sound of wings.

                “Show yourself,” Ulquiorra commanded.

                Ulquiorra felt the snap of a whip strike him in the middle of his back, knocking him to his knees. “You are an unworthy master,” an icy voice called condescendingly from the darkness. “I will rule over you.” He saw his Segunda Etapa step out of the mist, glaring down at him, disdain evident in his face.

                “You are me. We are one,” Ulquiorra snarled, getting up on one knee only to have his ankle yanked out from under him again.

                “Don’t make me laugh,” the other leered, crossing his arms pensively.

                “Who are you, then?” Ulquiorra demanded.

                “I am Murcielago!” the creature hissed, his voice echoing coldly through the mist, a chill that cut Ulquiorra to the bone.

                “But you are part of me,” he insisted, still trying to regain his feet. Murcielago snapped them out from under him again, knocking him back to his knees.

                “Stay down, where you belong,” Murcielago seethed. “Know your place, trash. I am what you had the potential to become, in purest form. Instead, I was brought out because of your weakness! In contrast to these irreconcilable… feelings…” he spat the word as though it left a foul taste in his mouth, and he could not be rid of it soon enough, “for this weak, disgusting human.”

                Ulquiorra glared up at Murcielago. This was not going at all as he had planned. “You are my highest potential, you say?”

                “Indeed, and by… fornicating… with that mortal, you have devolved into a weaker, inferior creature.” Murcielago turned his back on Ulquiorra. “You de-evolution has spurred my own evolution.”

                “Evolution is a matter of opinion,” Ulquiorra barked, trying to get to his feet again. This time, when the whip-like tail came at him, he was ready. He drew steel on it, and easily deflected the attack.

                “It is fact!” Murcielago snapped. “You have diverted from your original purpose, and meaning of existence!”

                “By your own rationale, it is I who has evolved, then,” Ulquiorra insisted.

                “LIES!” Murcielago shrieked, and flew at Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra deflected the claws and whip with his sword, and stood at the ready as the demon escaped into the mist. The chilling voice called to him from the void, in all directions. “I am pure emptiness, and you stand at odds with me now, allowing this human to fill you with deceit.”

                Ulquiorra glowered into the darkness. “Love is not deceit.”

                Murcielago stalked out of the haze toward Ulquiorra. “You think not?” he leered. “You disgust me, going so far as to even use that abhorrent word. You become more human under her spell of seduction, but as it wears off, you revert afterwards to your natural, proper state. It is your natural state that is the truth, not the witchcraft she casts over you. Tell me this, weakling- would the human still love you if she saw… this?” Murcielago snapped his wings open dramatically, spreading his arms in a taunt.

                Ulquiorra offered no reply. No doubt, the woman would see him as a monster, this he knew.

                “Watch your step, Ulquiorra,” Murcielago warned. “You and I are no longer in alignment. One day, you will call on my power, and you will have become careless, and make a false step.” The whip of the tail unexpectedly jerked Ulquiorra’s foot out again, and he cursed as he hit his knee. “That day will be your downfall. I shall gain the upper hand, and you shall be overthrown. Then it shall be you spending eternity here in the void of this inner world.” Murcielago gripped Ulquiorra’s jaw in his sharp talons, yanking his face up. “We shall remain in contention until that day.” He smirked as the Espada tore free from the creature’s claws. “You shall know no peace until you lay down this foolish pursuit of ‘heart,’ and ‘happiness.’ There is no reconciliation to be found, but that of the void.”

                From the darkness, Ulquiorra felt a suffocating, pressing around him. The mist seemed to permeate his body, and a numbness began to overtake him. Empty nothingness. Something familiar, and almost comforting, about this place. He felt the darkness condensing, becoming him, even as it surrounded him. “Remember,” Murcielago whispered in an echo. “Remember where you came from.”

                He stood at last, and found himself in a pit. He was different. Weaker. But stronger still than those around him. They were tearing something apart, over there. Maybe eating something. The others were black. He was all in white. When he stood, he drew their attention. They came with shining eyes and sharp teeth, to fall on him, as they had upon the others.

                Fools.

                The void opened and consumed them.

                He crawled out the pit. Felt nothing. Only the void. He could hear nothing. Bite nothing. Smell nothing. Feel nothing that he touched. He could not rest. He had no companion. Just walking, alone.

                The things that reflected in his eyes had no meaning, and the things that could not be reflected in his eyes, did not exist to him.

                Walking.

                Walking.

                Walkling.

                Walking for… How long?

                It did not matter. Time could not be seen. It did not exist to him.

                Then he arrived at the thought that he had found something extraordinary.

                It was the birthplace of those strange, translucent object that dotted this world. The crystalline trees. It was the first time his eyes had been captured by anything.

                It had no color. No sound. So scent.

                It did not interact with anything.

                It only existed there.

                It was the closest thing to void he had ever seen.

                He sank his body into the hollow cavity of it.

                There was nothing there. He lost his line of vision with the world, and allowed himself to dissolve into the nothingness. And he felt as if everything had disappeared.

                Happiness…

                “If such a thing called happiness exists in the world,” Murcielago coaxed, “It should be something which resembles the limitless nothingness. Nihility is having nothing, and having nothing to lose. If that isn’t ‘happiness,’ then what is?”

                The illusion faded, and Ulquiorra shook his head. “Love. Love is happiness. Nothingness is… nothing.”

                “Can’t you see, even now? Void, within void. That is our purpose. That is where peace is to be found.”

                “No. That is not what I saw at all. I saw myself alone, seeking a kindred spirit. Something like myself. And something to complete, by filling it, thus giving myself purpose.” Ulquiorra frowned at Murcielago. “We fill one another, Orihime and I.”

                “Such nonsense,” sighed Murcielago. “You are hopeless, and a fool. I cannot help you. You have become blind, your vision clouded by this asinine path of weakness you persist in pursuing. It would have been better had you and I been born separate, and I alone had crawled from the pit. You are unfit for this world. This ‘heart’ you seek is an illusion, unattainable.”

                “No more than the void,” Ulquiorra said. “Neither can exist without the other, I see that now. Nothing cannot exist without something. But they are two sides of the same blade; one to hurt, and one to heal. Thus is my strife, because pure void cannot exist. Something must fill it. By its nature, it exists to be filled, just as the heart exists to fill it.”

                The scene faded, and Ulquiorra opened his eyes. He was disappointed at the outcome of the Jinzen. He had hoped for a more satisfactory answer, but clearly, it was not as simple as he was led to think. He did not believe much of what Murcielago had told him; the demon was mistaken, and he was pleased to learn that the void was separating from him. He could still hear and feel Murcielago though, swimming below the surface of his consciousness like a shark lurking beneath the water, waiting for a bird to land so he could pull it under and devour it.

                Ulquiorra decided to go visit Orihime. The woman always had a way to ease his troubles.

                He knocked at her door, and entered. She smiled, and her lips moved, but he could not hear her words. She looked puzzled and went to him, embracing him as always. But he could feel nothing now, only the pounding of his heart in his chest. He felt as though he were in a tunnel, looking at the image from a distance as things began to grow dim. All he could hear was Murcielago’s cold laughter, as things faded to black.

                When he came to, he was standing in the middle of a hallway.

                Alarmed, he ran to Orihime’s chamber. She was sitting on her couch, crying again. Ulquiorra rushed to her side, and knelt, reaching for her hand. “Whatever was said, whatever was done, please forgive me,” he pleaded. “I was not myself. I do not recall the events…” She stared at him, her eyes searching his face, and then she fell on him, her arms thrown around his neck, her sobs renewed. “Did he… Hurt you?” Ulquiorra was afraid of the answer.

                “I knew it wasn’t you,” she lamented. “I just didn’t understand why… What’s going on?”

                He held her tightly. “I am so sorry. This is not how I wanted things to go.”

                “But what’s going on?” She sat back on her heels, drying her eyes with the green silk handkerchief Ulquiorra offered her.

                “I am… Of two minds, you could say.” He searched for the best way to explain it to her. “Here,” he told her, reaching his hand up and touching his eye. “Do not be afraid,” he cautioned.

                The warning was useless. She was clearly terrified as she saw him dig his own eye ball out of its socket and crush it, dispersing it into dust which swirled around them. Images shimmered in the dust, and Orihime saw and felt everything that Ulquiorra needed her to, to explain best to her what had been going on with him recently. She saw the visions from his inner world, of his human past and of his origins as a Hollow in the pit of the Menos forest. He did not allow her to see Murcielago, but she learned of his existence, and felt the cold, empty terror of his void. He felt that the rest of it was already quite a lot to expect her to bear without adding insult to injury, and forcing her to look upon the monster that was within him.

                When the visions stopped, she looked up at him, wonderstruck. “How did you do that?”

                “Solita Vista,” he told her. “It is one of my more unusual abilities, made possible by my high-speed regeneration.” He blinked at her, revealing both eyes were again whole and intact.

                “Oh, thank goodness!” She let out a huge sigh of relief. “I know what you said, but…” She trailed off.

                “I know. That is why I said it.” He smiled slightly. “But you understand now, yes?”

                Orihime nodded grimly. “Yes. I understand that you could lose control to him at any time.”

                The quietness hung heavy in the room, nearly tangible, for several minutes.

                “I do not wish to fight your friends,” Ulquiorra told her finally, breaking the silence. “Even under orders from Lord Aizen.” When he looked up at her again, she could see the hurt in his eyes. “But I may have to.”

                “Murcielago?” Orihime asked.

                “Yes. He will not hesitate to engage them in battle, even to death.”

                Orihime chewed her lip anxiously. “What about you?”

                Silence.

                “I don’t want you to get hurt…” Orihime sniffled. Ulquiorra understood the inference she could not bring herself to speak aloud; Hurt, or killed.

                “It is out of my control, at this point,” he told her. “I shall do my best, but as we have seen, it may not be enough.”

                “One thing I know now though, without a shadow of a doubt…” She smiled wistfully, and held his hand to her chest. “I felt how you feel about me.”

                He gasped. That had not been his intention, but surely it had come through, he realized.   Ulquiorra had never in his existence worried before about being found inadequate in some way, but here in this moment, his soul bared before this woman, it was suddenly a very real concern to him. He swallowed hard, unsure what to say.

                Orihime giggled. Ulquiorra was thunderstruck, and slightly annoyed that she was so amused by his obvious distress. “Oh Ulqui-kun!” She kissed his hand. “Don’t worry.”

                “Did you find it…” He fumbled for the right word. “…Satisfactory?”

                Her peals of laughter disarmed him. “Of course, of course,” she said dismissively. He gave a small sigh of relief. “Were you really so worried?”

                He nodded, pensive again. She picked up on his seriousness, and they sat quiet for a while.

                “You knew, then, that it was Murcielago who came to you earlier?”

                Orihime nodded. “I knew it wasn’t you. I could tell. It wasn’t even like your usual solemn self. It was just…” She shivered at the memory. “Yes, I could tell.”

                Ulquiorra nodded, satisfied at this. “You must know, Orihime… When the time comes... He will try his best to cause you to despair.” He did not mistake the look of fear that flashed across her face. “You must not give in to it.” He was silent for several seconds. “He is strong, Orihime. So strong. If I do not survive…”

                “Don’t speak of such things…” she began to chide him, pressing her hand over his mouth, but he gripped her wrist angrily and pushed it away.

                “No. These things must be said.” She could see how much it pained him, so she let him continue. “Do not despair. Fix your mind and your heart on whatever fills you…” He paused. “...Other than me.” He closed his eyes, and turned away. “If I do not make it, I must know that he did not take you down with me.” He turned sharply, glaring with an intensity that was punctuated by a glistening of his eyes that hinted of tears. “Think on your friends, who have come to save you. Think on halcyon days of your youth. You must steel your heart against him. You must remember, though it appears to be my body… It is him. It is emptiness.”

                Orihime nodded, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Why does this feel so much like goodbye? she wondered. “But even if that happens,” she sniffled, “I already know that you and I are of one heart.”

                “When,” Ulquiorra corrected her softly. “When it happens. Not if.”

                Orihime threw her arms around him, and he buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply, trying to cement himself in this moment.

                He lifted the woman into his arms and carried her to her couch. He set her down there and lay down so she could nestle into him. It was not long before she fell asleep.

                Ulquiorra didn’t know how long he lay there, watching her slumber, worrying about things. He kept running through different possibilities in his mind, and trying to find some kind of solution. He knew he would ultimately have to fight Ichigo, either as himself or as Murcielago, and that it would be to the death. It wasn’t something he wanted to do, but it was something he acknowledged as a fact.

                He was terrified of the idea that Murcielago should win, of what would become of Orihime then, once Lord Aizen was done with her. He was just drifting off to sleep, when a thought awakened him. He and I are not aware at the same time.

                Carefully, Ulquiorra crawled out from behind Orihime, and snuck out of the room. He was on his way to try to strike a desperate deal with the devil.
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Resolution