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PDSU - Translation

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Szayel was annoyed, but not surprised, when Lumina and Verona entered his laboratory, informing him Aizen had requested his presence. Nor was he was particularly fazed when he bumped into Ulquiorra, who also happened to be heading to the throne room.

But he was pissed.

Whatever was in store for him couldn’t possibly be good. And unlike the ‘comrade’ beside him, Szayel wasn’t above expressing said emotion. He glared at Ulquiorra with the same disdain Grimmjow had for Luppi—and then some. In hindsight, he had been too optimistic in thinking the Cuatro Espada would let him get away with anything.

Ulquiorra spoke first, which was odd in-and-of itself. “Aizen-sama, I feel you should reconsider your assigning Szayel as the woman’s guard while I’m on missions.” He shot Szayel a pointed look. “He’s too reckless.”

“Reckless?” asked Aizen, his interest piqued. “In what way?”

“Not only did he allow her to leave her room, he also let her go outside Las Noches. All this he did without your permission, Aizen-sama. If anything had happened to her during that time…”

They couldn’t have been in the throne room for more than a few minutes and already Szayel had had enough of Ulquiorra’s blabber. Really, since when did he become so talkative?

Aizen turned to Szayel, a hard glint in his eyes. “Is this true, Szayel Aporro Granz?”

Szayel’s eyes widened. Aizen calling him by his full name was not good. “It is, Aizen-sama,” he said, and cleared his throat. “However, I have a good reason for doing what I did.”

“There’s nothing you can say,” said Ulquiorra coldly, “that could justify going against Aizen-sama’s orders.”

“In case you’re forgetting, Aizen-sama never said she was to be contained only to her room,” Szayel remarked, eyes narrowing to tiny slits. “Unlike you, I understand the importance of keeping our guest healthy in every respect, not just physically. Her psychological health must be taken into consideration if you want her to survive. A change of scenery can help in that regard. Not significantly, of course, but just enough.”

“That doesn’t excuse you from not notifying Aizen-sama of your intent—”

“Well, Cuatro-san, perhaps if you’d taken her psychological health into consideration when she was strictly under your care, it wouldn’t have been necessary.”

“Are you implying this incident is somehow my fault?” Ulquiorra asked, barely raising an eyebrow.

Szayel laughed. “Does it sound like I am?”

Aizen watched, faintly amused at his Espada squabbling like children. Well, squabble might’ve been too strong a word. Szayel was doing most of the arguing, while Ulquiorra stood stiffly, adding a word or two in retaliation. Aizen allowed them to continue until he grew tired of their antics.

“Enough.”

“He started it,” Szayel muttered, not daring to look at Ulquiorra.

“I don’t care who started it, Szayel Aporro,” said Aizen. He released just enough reiatsu to force the Arrancar to their knees. “If need be, I will be the one to end it. Understood?”

Szayel and Ulquiorra got up and bowed. “We understand, Aizen-sama.”

Aizen nodded as they raised their heads. “Good,” he said, and then turned to Ulquiorra. “While I appreciate you notifying me of a potentially threatening situation, it is not necessary. Szayel is well aware of the consequences, should anything happen to our guest.”

Ulquiorra looked almost embarrassed.

“And Szayel,” Aizen continued, “while I’m glad you’re taking special consideration for all aspects of our guest’s well-being, we should avoid issues like this in the future.”

Szayel deciphered the true meaning behind his words:

In the future get my permission, or else I’ll make sure you regret it.

“Yes, Aizen-sama,” Szayel said through gritted teeth.

“If there’s nothing else we need to discuss,” said Aizen, with a wave of his hand.

Szayel and Ulquiorra bowed before they left, not saying a word to each other as they headed to their respective domains. Barely a minute had passed when a high-pitched noise emitted from somewhere in the hall. Ulquiorra, and a few unfortunate Arrancar who happened to be nearby, winced.

Szayel took a metallic device from out of his pocket and frowned. “Weird,” he said, staring at it. “She shouldn’t have taken that long to complete the task. I’ll have to figure out what went wrong when I meet with the subject again.”

“What are you talking about?” demanded Ulquiorra, turning to the strange device and its creator. But he found the spot the Octava Espada previously occupied empty.

Blinking, Ulquiorra shook his head and continued to Orihime’s room.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Orihime was worried, but not surprised, to find Ulquiorra in her room, disapproval written all over his face; how she could tell she wasn’t sure, since he didn’t look any different than usual. Nor was she surprised by the almost unbearable tension between the two Espada, glaring at each other as they passed. She wasn’t even that surprised when Ulquiorra told her he had something important to do and that she should refrain from doing anything…

How did he put it? Ah, yes. Foolish.

What Orihime wasn’t expecting was to find a scrap of paper attached to the back of her door, ink marring the surface. She pulled the sheet off, intrigued, and tried reading what was written. Tried was the operative word, as she turned the paper around and around, hoping to make sense of it.

It was Japanese. That much she knew for certain. At least, it looked Japanese. She squinted at the handwriting. Was that character supposed to be a ‘ki’ or a ‘sa’?

After staring at the paper for about five minutes, Orihime finally figured out what was written.

Although rice is fine,
Sometimes there needs to be spice.

Please enjoy your meal.


A haiku? But what kind of a haiku was this? And what was it supposed to mean?

Her fingers rubbed against the smooth surface of the paper. She read the haiku in her head again, hoping to make sense of it. It was almost as if the poem were some kind of a clue.

Wait. Maybe it was a clue. Orihime folded her arms across her chest. Rice, meal, spice. Did it have something to do with her food? She shook her head. Maybe it had nothing to do with her food, but rather where—

She stopped in mid-thought. Making her way over to the table, she looked and felt around for something, though for what she didn’t know. As her hand brushed against the underside, she felt another slip of paper. She peeled the sheet off and brought it to eye-level.

There is no sunlight

to bring you joy in this world.

There’s only the moon.


Deciphering the handwriting took considerably less time now that Orihime was familiar with it. In a matter of seconds she was on her tiptoes, blindly searching the windowsill for another scrap. There was nothing immediately within her grasp.

She eventually grabbed a chair and used it as a step-stool.

Orhime still didn’t understand what was the point of all these clues. Or, more importantly, why they were in her room in at all. She thought the answer might be hidden in the haiku, but they just led her to more clues.

A splash of color

in this world of white and gray

underneath your feet.


She searched her rug, although she was fairly certain that if she hadn’t seen anything, then Ulquiorra would have. Perhaps under the rug. As expected, Orihime found yet another sheet.

This one was different than others. The paper was of much higher quality, as if the writer felt this haiku deserved more than just a simple scrap. Also the writing was more legible, written in a beautiful cursive hand. Unlike the previous poems, this one was in English. Orihime frowned, her fingers tapping against her lips. She recalled all the English she had learned, but she didn’t know if it would be enough.

Taking a few minutes to translate, she read aloud:

“What dreams come to you?
Visions of happiness or

nightmares unending?”


A cold chill ran up her spine. Orihime wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her arms. Why did this haiku disturb her? Maybe because it was truer than she cared to admit.

She searched the creases of the couch, waiting to find more paper. But surprisingly she didn’t. Instead her hand brushed against something cold and metallic. Gulping, she pulled the object out.

It was a fine silver chain, a small pendant in the shape of a butterfly hanging from it. The butterfly was made up of some kind of pink stones she had never seen before. The way the stones reflected what little light was filtering into the room was beautiful, the reflections casting on the walls almost magically.

Orihime smiled, touched that someone would give her something so extravagant. Without a second thought she placed the gift around her neck, feeling the weight of the pendant against her chest.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

“I take it you like the necklace,” said Szayel, his eyes focused on the cube in front of him.

Orihime gasped. “That was you, Szayel-san?”

“Could you hand me that tool beside you? Over on the left.”

“Oh, right.” Orihime grabbed a long metal device with ridged ends and showed it to him. “This one?”

Once again she found herself in Szayel’s domain until Ulquiorra returned. The Cuatro Espada was out on another mission, the second one in nearly as many days. He didn’t offer an explanation, so Orihime could only wonder why. Was Ulquiorra that valuable to Aizen? The realization of just how powerful her other guard might be slowly sank in.

“Yes,” Szayel said, taking the tool from her. He nodded in thanks. “That was from me. Although I’m surprised you’re wearing it. I figured a certain guard of yours would’ve inquired how you obtained it.”

Orihime laughed nervously, leaning against one of the tables. “Well, I had a feeling Ulquiorra would get suspicious if he saw it. I tuck it under my clothes when I’m with him.”

Szayel stopped what he was working on and looked over at her. “Orihime-san!” He smirked. “I didn’t think it was in you to be so…sneaky.”

“I-I’m not!” insisted Orihime. She tried to hide her blush. “I mean, I’m not trying to be!”

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me,” he laughed, grabbing a handful of wires and connecting them to—

Well, to something. Electronics weren’t Orihime’s strong suit, but Szayel seemed to know what he was doing. She was just surprised he could keep his clothes pristine. If it had been her, she knew her dress would be filthy before she finished.

“Why?” she asked, fingers brushing against the pendant. “I mean, why did you give this to me? And what was with the haiku? I still don’t understand.”

Szayel glanced at her, wiping his hands clean of grease and grime. “I just wanted to keep things interesting. Also to keep your mind sharp. You need tasks where you can think outside the box. That’s what the haiku were for. You can only receive so much stimulation from books.”

“I see.” Orihime nodded, not sure she fully understood his reasoning. “You know, the haiku really surprised me. I didn’t think Arrancar would know about them.”

“Most wouldn’t,” said Szayel. “But I’ve done my share of research on human history, so I’ve come to learn about such things. I figured something more unique in the way of clues would keep you interested.” He paused. “By the way, what did you think of them? I hope they weren’t too difficult for you to figure out.”

Szayel polished the white case of the cube while he waited for her answer. He needed to know what went wrong. She shouldn’t have taken that long to obtain her reward. Even with the last poem, which required her to translate the text, she took longer than he expected.

Coughing, Orihime mumbled out a few words.

“What was that?”

“The clues were too hard, Szayel-san,” she said, averting her gaze. Orihime found herself blushing—again. “It’s just that…um…with the exception of the last haiku, it took me a while to decipher your handwriting.”

Szayel stared at her for a beat. Then he chuckled. He resumed polishing the cube. “Is my handwriting that bad?”

“I-I’m so sorry, Szayel-san! I’ve offended you.”

“Please,” he said, holding up his hand to stop her, “there’s no need for apologies. I simply never realized how illegible my handwriting is.” He grinned. “After all, you’re the only person other than me to read anything I’ve written.”

“Not even…Aizen-san?” Orihime asked, eyes wide.

“No, not even Aizen-sama,” said Szayel, as he added the finishing touches to his creation. “Well, I think it’s done.”

Orihime giggled, a hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe you took my advice and made it an Ulquiorra translator.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He walked around the table to stand next to her. “It was a good suggestion. Here, why don’t you test it out? Say something that Ulquiorra would say, and we’ll see what this translator will do.”

“Okay.” What was something Ulquiorra would say? Finally, Orihime said, “Woman.”

A smooth, masculine voice came from the cube. “Orihime.”

Orihime stepped closer, her gaze fixed on the machine. “You mean, all this time Ulquiorra, in his own way, has been calling me by my name? Unbelievable!”

“It appears so,” Szayel said. He placed his arm over the cube. “Now all we need is a name and—”

“TREA!”

“Pardon?”

“TREA. I don’t know why, but it looks like a TREA to me,” said Orihime. “I thought so ever since the first time I saw it.”

“I was going to call it TR-859, but I guess TREA will do,” Szayel said, removing his arm from the machine. “Does it stand for anything in particular?”

“Translator Robot of Extreme…” She paused. “Attractiveness!”

Szayel switched off the machine’s—TREA’s—power. How did she always seem to challenge his preconceptions of her? “Orihime-san is so amusing,” he said, his smirk widening.

“Hmm?” Her eyebrows furrowed. “What do you—?”

“It’s time to leave.”

Tucking the pendant beneath her collar, Orihime turned to see a stone-faced Ulquiorra. “That was awfully fast.”

“Fast?” Ulquiorra stared at her. “I did not realize eight hours was fast.”

“I’ve been here for that long?” she asked, and faced Szayel. “It didn’t feel like that much time has passed.”

“I’ve heard time flies when you’re having fun,” said Szayel, gauging her reaction. He picked up the cube and handed it to her. “Here you go, Orihime-san—a present for you. I think you’ll need this more than me.” Szayel winked, amused by the soft blush spreading across her cheeks.

“Thank you,” Orihime said, accepting the device from its creator. She was surprised by how light TREA was.

Ulquiorra eyed the cube suspiciously.

“Don’t worry, Ulquiorra-san,” said Szayel. “It doesn’t do anything bad. Right, Orihime-san?”

Orihime nodded.

“Hm.” Ulquiorra’s gaze shifted between the machine and Szayel. “Come, we’re leaving.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

When she and Ulquiorra returned to her room, Orihime placed TREA on her table. She couldn’t keep from smiling. This fact did not escape Ulquiorra, who continued looking at the creation with a mixture of distrust and disdain.

Orihime flipped the switch at the back of the cube. She could hardly contain her excitement. Maybe she could finally understand what Ulquiorra was trying to tell her. And if she could understand what he was saying, they could have more meaningful conversations.

“How did your mission go, Ulquiorra?” she asked politely.

Ulquiorra turned his gaze to her. “That is none of your concern, woman.”

“It went well, Orihime,” said TREA.

Ulquiorra seemed almost shocked by the voice that had come from the machine. He said nothing, but his eyes narrowed.

So the machine really did work. Orihime’s smile widened at the realization. She made a mental note to thank Szayel for making this wonderful invention.

“What was your mission about?”

“I will not to repeat myself.”

“Although I would very much like to tell you about the nature of my mission, I am unable to do so. I hope you can forgive me,” TREA spit out.

“Enough of this nonsense,” Ulquiorra said, clearly irritated. “It’s time for your meal, woman.”

“I want to make love to you, over and over and over again.”

They stared at the cube.

There was nothing but silence for the next five minutes after TREA had finished translating. Orihime’s mouth dropped, her hand covering her mouth. She could feel her face turn the deepest shade of red possible. If she listened hard enough, she could’ve sworn she heard the footsteps of Arrancar walking past her room.

Ulquiorra’s eyes widened. A faint tinge of pink stained his face. After what felt like an eternity, he moved and picked up the cube.

“Ulquiorra, what are you doing?”

The Cuatro Espada ignored her as he exited the room. The muttering of “cero” and high-pitched screams were all she heard. Seconds ticked by. When Ulquiorra eventually returned he was empty-handed.

Orihime grabbed his wrists, inspecting his hands, as if she thought he had hidden the cube somewhere on his person. “Where’s TREA?”

“I’m afraid,” said Ulquiorra, pulling his hands from her grasp, “that TREA, as you call it, is out of commission.”

“Y-You killed TREA, didn’t you?” She remembered the noise she heard outside her door and frowned at the thought of a crispy burnt cube. “How could you, Ulquiorra? You’re too cruel!”

For the first time in his existence, Ulquiorra resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’ll be back with your meal.”
First Chapter: [link]
Previous chapter: [link]
Next chapter: [link]


EDIT 3: 8/23/13 ONCE MORE, WITH FEELING!
EDIT 2: 1/1/10 RE-REVAMPED
EDIT: 6/5/09 REVAMPED



Ulquiorra and Szayel acting like kids? Aizen being the firm father? It's more likely than you think. ;)


Yay for positive reinforcement (aka the necklace)! I mean, if Ulquiorra can give Orihime a braclet, then Szayel can give her a necklace. :D

Poor TREA-kun, although, if you think about it, Ulquiorra's reaction is more in-character than it is in the comic. ^^;


Wow, this chapter was LONG, and I even had to cut some of it out and put in the next chapter instead. Whoo. :XD:


Szayel, Ulquiorra, Aizen and Orihime (c) Tite Kubo
TREA (c) :iconilovemybishies87:
© 2008 - 2024 ilovemybishies87
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Astrithia's avatar
:iconlolowlplz: Wow, so that's what Ulquiorra really means in his own way! Good translating TREA!!! XD Poor Ulquiorra and TREA!