A/N: Hello peoples! I know I should be updating "The Rain Never Ends", but I just HAD to post this first (I'm also going to start another story soon). So I hope you enjoy this oneshot. The idea, like most of my other oneshot idea, came to me out of nowhere.
So without further ado, read, enjoy, and of course, review (no rhyme intended XD)
And just to make sure there's no confusion, this oneshot is in Ulquiorra's PoV (point of view)
So this is how it ends.
It comes as no surprise to me; I always knew my death would be quiet, insignificant. I know that even as my body disintegrates, there is one thing within me that stubbornly refuses to even begin its decay: despair.
But despair over what? Perhaps my failure to serve Aizen-sama?
No… my failure, as is my death, is of little consequence.
Can it be the woman?
Even now, as my body invisibly burns into ashes, the woman looks at me with a look of such sorrow, such… despair.
But of what importance could I be to her? Surely the nights (although the time of day could never be truly accounted for as the sun always shines within Las Noches) we spent in each other's company meant nothing to her. She had always mentioned the human heart (manifesting as emotions, which I once thought unimportant but now see in a different light), but I could never—until now—truly grasp the concept.
I can still remember those nights (or were they days? Regardless, it matters not) when the woman would request my company; I would always humor her and comply with her wishes. I can clearly recall the way her skin slid so effortlessly against mine, how her lips branded me with her insignia, and how those same lips left me unable to utter even the simplest of sounds. I could only gasp and sigh (and occasionally moan when I particularly enjoyed her actions) as she instilled such foreign feelings in me, both physically and within my subconscious. Said feelings, however, were not at all undesirable. In fact, I craved more, leading me to take the woman's innocence during my fifth stay with her.
Why did I wait? Why did I control the animalistic urge to have myself within her? I doubt I can ever truly say, but I can say that I felt—what I believe to be—the emotion humans call "guilt" when I made her mine. But guilt over what? Hurting the woman? Well, I must admit to feeling my blood run cold when I heard her cry out in pain and when her own warm blood slid over my erect member. All in all, the prize was worth it. I still remember how entering her made me feel… different. The sensation was addicting ("like a drug", I believe the saying goes) and I had to control my desire for more of it while the woman adjusted to my being within her for the first time. But when her pain had subsided, I thrusted in and out of her, savoring the sensation (which, with time, I came to recognize as pleasure), becoming lost in it until my body could withstand no more of it and I released my essence within her. The woman would cry out as well, but not in pain as previously, but rather as a vocal indication that she had also been sated for the time being.
Then rather than leave, as I should have, I stayed with her, silently keeping vigil over her as she slept, holding her protectively to my body.
But why did I even stay with the woman in the first place? Yes, I said I humored her, but there was another reason: I had formed a bond with her. How it had happened, I do not know. But something about her was different from the other females I had become acquainted with (most of whom were arrancar like myself). I still believe that it was this bond, this emotional connection that had caused me to ignore my common sense and stay with her.
I had always thought the woman had let me take her innocence, not out of this emotion called "love", but simply out of a desire for sexual release (although I was glad to oblige). But now as I look at her, I see that there is something, a glint of an emotion that I can't quite place.
Is it love? I see despair within her eyes, that I am certain of. But despair over my rapidly approaching death? Ridiculous. My death is unimportant; nobody will be the worse off once my flesh and bones completely crumble and scatter into the wind.
Perhaps the time I sacrificed to spend with her left an impression on her.
Yes… The despair within my own heart… is because I long to be with the woman. But my fate is to die. As painful as it is to have to leave her, the decision of whatever higher being that may exist is absolute.
I must die and I must leave her.
Woman… Inoue Orihime…
You have taught me much…
And although my body is disappearing, I reach out my hand to you to give you the one thing that will remain once there is nothing else left:
Take good care of it… Inoue Orihime…
Take good care of it…
Shackle my heart to your own…
And relieve me of my despair…