There's nothing like a trail of blood

[tozasemurcielago]

Ulquiorra felt an uncomfortable weight in his stomach as he made his way to Aizen-sama's office. Apprehension, he knew, but he wasn't accustomed to it and it lingered on the edge of his awareness, clouding his thoughts. His eyes remained downcast, and his hands in his pockets.

Seeing L at the meeting had been uncomfortable. Ulquiorra's throat had tightened, and he'd felt something much like this, a weight, and a twist in his stomach that he desired to shake. Murcielago hadn't helped, and had enjoyed Ulquiorra's discomfort. It had been a relief to focus on a task and push L and what Ulquiorra had done, and found out, from his mind.

He was trying to do that now, but he knew that he would have to explain his actions to Aizen-sama. Ulquiorra would prefer not to discuss it. He wasn't sure which part of Aizen-sama's reaction he would prefer to face, either; disappointment was a possibility, anger seemed unlikely as Aizen-sama had not made this discussion a priority.

He had allowed his emotions to get the better of himself. That was unacceptable.

He also could not let Aizen-sama know what Murcielago had offered him in the aftermath. Having to deceive Aizen-sama, at least having to keep information from him, was not going to be easy. There was more to come, Murcielago had promised, when he was ready, but the Hollow had capitalised on a wobble in Ulquiorra's self control, and Ulquiorra was wary of it attempting the same again. It may appear to be of benefit to Ulquiorra now, potentially, but it also presented a risk.

The hollow had managed to complicate the one relationship Ulquiorra had found easy. He was just a tool, a thing for Aizen-sama to use as required, to do whatever Aizen-sama required without hesitation or question. It had not been a complicated purpose, but it had been clear, and Ulquiorra had done his best to serve it. Now it would not be so simple.

Ulquiorra stopped outside Aizen-sama's office, and knocked twice, not because he would need to inform Aizen-sama of his presence, his presence would undoubtedly be felt, but simply out of propriety.

He entered only when he was invited.

Comments

[theschemer]

At the sound of Ulquiorra's approach, a sudden wave of apprehension washed over Zexion and threatened to drown every logical thought in his head.

As his footsteps neared his little corner of the library, Zexion felt the fingers of fear clutch at his throat and the shadow of dread stiffen his shoulders. For one mad moment, he thought he was coming for him. It wouldn't be unusual for a subordinate to be sent to find someone on his superior's behalf, especially one as dedicated as Ulquiorra, but the thought of fielding that sort of request, especially after all that had happened that day, made his stomach twist. He looked down at the table in front of him and forced himself to appear casual and distracted by the book that lay open before him.

When Ulquiorra made his way around the book case and failed to say or do anything to draw Zexion's attention, he relaxed somewhat and glanced up, albeit briefly. He wasn't looking for him. Zexion silently cursed himself for letting the thought of being brought before Aizen affect him in such a way. The debriefing hadn't been as bad --he was never alone with the man-- but a one-on-one meeting filled him with the sort of anxious worry that made him want to lock himself in his room until he returned to his duties in Archades.

Between Midgar and Axel, Zexion's nerves were frayed. Still, Ulquiorra's presence was unrelated to him. His appearance was coincidental. He was, for the time being, no threat. With his worries at least partially subdued, he fell back into a state of unwillingly thoughtful calm and tried to push the matters of Aizen, Midgar and Axel from his mind in favour of the open book in front of him. He actually saw the words this time, and allowed the legacy of King Raithwall to give him something else to think about.

Ulquiorra's unusually unsteady reiatsu had, for the time being, been forgotten.

[tozasemurcielago]

There was a tremor in Zexion's reiatsu as Ulquiorra approached. Ulquiorra was distantly aware of it, and considered it curious, but paid it no further heed as Zexion delved into his book, and it settled again. Ulquiorra didn't pretend to understand what the alchemist may be thinking, or what may trigger such a response.

He turned his attention instead to the books in front of him. A few were written in Old Rozarrian, which presented Ulquiorra no problem. Some were primers on speaking and reading the language--

One was the book Ulquiorra had first learned from when he was a child, and he hesitated before slowly taking it off the shelf. He'd left his own copy behind when he'd headed to Archades, but it had been one of the few things he'd packed and brought with him when he'd left his parent's house.

He'd brought a book, but left his stuffed rabbit, because he'd thought he'd be able to go back and collect the other things later, and he could live without the stuffed toy, but he'd be bored without a book. There were so many nights he'd spent as a child, working through the exercises, learning how to form the sounds, and the characters, with L on one side of him and his mother sneaking them cake.

Ulquiorra's throat had gone dry, he realised, and he closed his eyes, clamping down on his own reiatsu again as it threatened to spiral out of control, taking a breath and holding it for a moment. L had made such memories painful in entirely new ways; the revelation of his betrayal had soured any happiness Ulquiorra remembered.

You were not at fault, Aizen-sama had said, as if L had been issued punishment from some higher force and Ulquiorra had been merely the vessel of its delivery.

A sibilant voice niggled in Ulquiorra's head, Careful, Quiorra-chan, we don't want to have another outburst.

Ulquiorra pushed that voice, and the thoughts he was having away, sharply. He pushed them down, as he did with his reiatsu, out of the way. Then he opened his eyes, and put the book back where it had come from, turning his attention to an entirely different part of the bookcase.

[theschemer]

Zexion kept his downcast and focussed on his book. Ulquiorra's presence was not set to affect him despite his instinctive concerns on that front, so he ignored him in favour of the text in front of him.

"Many were the countries and kingdoms dotting Ivalice, and many were the wars waged in this time. Legend says that Raithwall, a noble from a small country in southern Valendia, was granted a sword and magicite from the gods, and with these artifacts, a mission: to unify the land."

He felt Ulquiorra's chakra flare and shake again, but did his best to ignore it. It wasn't easy. Ulquiorra was powerful and his Chakra reserves reflected that, even with such a small amount leaked. He didn't know the reason for the sudden change in his level of spiritual restraint, or what was getting to the Arrancar so much that he was struggling with his self control, and he didn't seek to theorise. It was nothing to do with him.

"His strategic genius and deep empathy with his people were evident in his rule of Valendia, and from there he went on to bring peace to much of Eastern Kerwon, and establish the rise of noble lines in that region, including Houses Nabradia and Alexandros."

He heard the tell-tale sound shhhh-thunk of a book being returned to its proper place and, in his peripheral vision, saw Ulquiorra move from one part of the book case to another. The fluctuating-yet-muted spiritual pressure settled again.

"Soon all of South-east Ivalice belonged to the Galtean Alliance, and a Golden Age had begun. Now king of all he surveyed, and ally to much of what he didn't, Raithwall's was a benevolent and just reign, guiding the Alliance for near half a century..."

[tozasemurcielago]

He must maintain his self control, but Ulquiorra wasn't used to finding that so hard. Betrayal wasn't something he'd felt before. He'd known grief, and pain, and the lost sense of helplessness that had come in the aftermath of Gongaga, but outright betrayal was something new. Its fingers reached into parts of Ulquiorra's head he wasn't used to.

Poor Quiorra-chan, Murcielago said. Ulquiorra could feel it basking in the darkness and roiling storm raging in his own head. First Aizen, then your aniki, and now you have no one.

Aizen-sama has nothing to do with this. Ulquiorra let himself concentrate on the Hollow's voice for a moment, becoming only distantly aware of what was going on in the library around himself.

He made you stand by and watch while he forced the Alchemist to do the same to Midgar as had been done to your parents.

Midgar was not the same as Gongaga. Ulquiorra replied, flatly.

You don't believe that, Quiorra-chan; the storm gives you away. Your seas have boiled ever since you saw that city destroyed.

Ulquiorra's fingers tightened slightly on the bookshelf he was holding in the library, and in his head he replied, Aizen-sama's decisions are naught to do with me, only his instructions are my concern.

The Hollow laughed and retorted, You don't believe that, either, Quiorra-chan. If you did, then you could have told him about your new ability; but you know what his decision would be, don't you, Quiorra-chan?

Ulquiorra didn't respond. He suspected that the revelation that he could now see through an illusion would, potentially, have unpleasant consequences. Enough, he told the Hollow.

You've discovered that something is actually important to you, Ulquiorra. Perhaps one day you'll stop running away from it.

Ulquiorra ignored the Hollow once more, finding himself still looking at the books, and the titles written in Rozarrian. He glanced back at the Alchemist, engrossed in his book, remembering for a moment what he'd witnessed at Midgar, and then turned back to the bookcase and withdrew one on the history of Alexandria.

He needed, desperately, to take his mind off Midgar, and Gongaga, and L, and Aizen-sama, and the Hollow.

[theschemer]

Zexion, not privy to Ulquiorra's thoughts, or the voice of his Hollow, sat in silence and finally took in what he was reading. The bulb behind him buzzed and plink-ed irregularly, brightening and then dimming again in fits and spurts.

He didn't move until he'd finished the chapter. Upon reaching the end, he saved his page with a lidded pen and got to his feet. Zexion made his way past Ulquiorra and turned a corner to reach a little half-concealed alcove that stood hidden from view where he had been sitting and where Ulquiorra remained. It housed little more than a table and the supplies necessary to make a cup of tea. There was a mug-tree, a small covered bowl of sugar, a heavy stone pitcher to keep the milk inside it as cool as possible without a fridge, a caddy of teabags and an electric kettle.

The kettle's weight showed quite clearly that there was plenty of water in it, so Zexion flicked it on.

[tozasemurcielago]

Ulquiorra sat down at the nearest table, working hard to ignore the thoughts in his head, and succeeding as he opened the book and began to read. He'd never bothered much about Alexandria's own history when he was younger. The Schiffer family had been powerful, once upon a time, and still retained much of the lands and properties into the modern era. His father had managed the estate for a living, a task which had required employees, and lawyers, and sometimes more of his father's time than Ulquiorra had appreciated, as well as a good head for numbers, and a lot of patience.

The properties had all been transferred to Ulquiorra recently, and Ulquiorra hadn't touched any of it. He didn't wish to. He'd never been back to the family house, or the house his Grandparents had inhabited, and had no wish to visit those, either. Things would have changed, and Ulquiorra would rather preserve his memory of things as they had been.

As much as L had succeeded in tainting that.

He paid Zexion no heed as the Alchemist rose and moved past Ulquiorra's own niche among the bookcases.

The text was in Old Rozarrian, and Ulquiorra read the language fluently, perhaps a little more fluently than he spoke it, especially these days. He frowned a little as he had that thought; he'd spoken it a lot, back then, with friends, and with L.

He had no one to speak it with any more.

His reiatsu wobbled again at the thought, and Ulquiorra closed his eyes, as his chest and throat tightened again. He'd never cried for his parents. He refused to cry now. He took a sharp breath, which seemed so loud in the silence of the library, and forced himself to take a slower, deeper breath, forcing his reiatsu slowly back under control.

He looked back at the book, at the characters lined so neatly on the page, and then looked away, exhaling slowly.

[theschemer]

Zexion frowned as he heard that sound. It sounded distressed and upset. He wouldn't have marked this particular Espada as being the type to sit in the library and cry about anything, but he didn't know what had happened in the meeting with Aizen, or before that, if the meeting was anything to go by.

He kept himself silent and hidden in his alcove as the kettle slowly started to heat the water. While the kettle was still largely noiseless, he grabbed himself a cup from the mug tree and set it down in front of himself quietly, but not too quietly. He didn't want to remind the Arrancar that he was there, nor did he want to be so silent that it made it sound like he was listening to him.

[tozasemurcielago]

It felt like it took an age for the sharp pull in Ulquiorra's throat to pass. He cleared his mind, obstinately refusing to think anything more on the subject of L and his parents. He had to put those memories out of his mind; the past was the past, crying would change nothing, anger, and sadness would change nothing. He had to remember that.

The clink of a cup and faint bubble of the kettle reminded him of Zexion's presence. He could not be seen to lose his self control in front of a Ryoka.

His breathing slowed, and his eyes stung, but he ignored that. He didn't attempt to read any further until he no longer had to fight against the memories. Then he brought his book nearer, and attempted to lose himself in the words.

[theschemer]

Zexion could feel every strained attempt at control Ulquiorra was making. His spiritual pressure was just as telling as the scent of his emotions. It wasn't so easy to tell with others, but whenever Ulquiorra's grip slipped, even just a little, he caught the scent of Darkness about him. It wasn't the same as what he knew, but it was similar enough to stir his memories and was heavy as it was faint.

He was struggling to keep a lid on whatever was bothering him. He had a face to maintain, a reputation for impassive indifference -- even Zexion knew that -- but it was difficult for him, whatever the cause. The frequent loss of control and the subsequent recovery were evidence enough of that.

Zexion could sympathise all too well. He couldn't react to how he felt about the past two weeks and what had happened, though he handled it differently. He simply locked himself down and tried to ignore the vicious pull of unpleasant memories that picked at his psyche, the guilt that threatened to drown him. Axel's appearance on Ulquiorra's recording had pulled him out of that sea, but it was still there, seething just beyond the edge of reason, threatening to drag him down into its depths again.

He pulled a second cup from the mug stand.

[tozasemurcielago]

In the depths of his mind, Ulquiorra could hear Murcielago laughing at his expense. The Hollow had planned to isolate him, he'd realised that much. Forcing Ulquiorra to deceive Aizen-sama had been a deliberate step on the Hollow's part, and Ulquiorra had allowed it to happen.

When he was emotional, he was less aware of what Murcielago might be up to. That was, right now, an important reason to keep his self control. Emotional outbursts were weakness, and weakness the Hollow could exploit.

He held on to that fact, and ignored the niggling feeling as Murcielago tried to needle him further and continue a conversation Ulquiorra had no interest in participating in.

He re-read a passage he hadn't paid enough attention to the first time.

[theschemer]

Zexion stood where he was as the kettle boiled, half lost in thought. The quiet hiss of the boiling water eventually made it up to a near roar ... or at least it sounded that way in the silence of the library. A click sounded the end of the boiling stage and it quieted down as he made the tea.

Zexion was, among other things, exceptionally observant. He paid attention to a lot of what went on in the kitchen, or other neutral gathering places. He didn't make a habit of putting himself in amongst Aizen's subordinates, or Gin Ichimaru, or whoever else, but he had picked up on a few things and he put one of those bits of gleaned information to use.

He picked up the cups and headed back towards the section he had been occupying. Ulquiorra looked distracted, deliberately so. He was doing exactly as he had been and using the book before him as a method of forgetting whatever was bothering him. He frowned slightly as he walked, the expression mostly hidden behind his fringe, and placed a cup down to the side of Ulquiorra's book.

He didn't speak, or even linger. He simply left the cup where he'd put it and headed back to his own table with his own drink in hand.

[tozasemurcielago]

Ulquiorra didn't pay Zexion much attention as he approached. It seemed likely that he was simply going to the bookshelves, and Ulquiorra didn't notice the second cup in the Ryoka's hand until it came into view, placed at the side of his own book.

He looked up, watching Zexion's retreat with blank incomprehension on his own face. Ulquiorra continued to stare after Zexion as he moved back to his own table.

He recognised it as a gesture, but of what? And for what purpose? Ulquiorra was an Arrancar; Zexion would have no reason to pity him, and his reaction earlier had suggested fear, and nervousness.

Ulquiorra picked up the cup, and inhaled its scent before taking a small sip. It wasn't too strong, and it was sweet enough.

That was curious. Zexion had paid attention to such a detail, or he was better at judging people than anyone might have realised.

"Thank you," he said, after a pause he knew had likely stretched on too long. In the quiet of the library, he knew he didn't have to be close to be heard.

[theschemer]

Zexion, already seated by the time Ulquiorra spoke, looked up and shook his head a little. His expression didn't give anything away. He turned his attention back to his book, delicately lifted the pen from between the pages and set it aside.

"You look like you could use it," he said, eyes on the page.

You look how I feel, was the response that went through his head.

[tozasemurcielago]

Ulquiorra still found himself perplexed by the gesture. Looking as though he could use a cup of tea was not, in Ulquiorra's experience, usually reason to make him one. Ulquiorra was unaccustomed to kindness; he wasn't the type of person who invited it.

The answer left him no wiser as to Zexion's motivations than he had been before receiving it, and Ulquiorra, deciding he had nothing more to add to the exchange right now, turned his attention back to his book in perplexed silence.