Gray

Between them, it was like a constant shade of gray. Things were never black and white, never simple. Then again, things in such defined circumstances would be boring. The constant war between them had no answer, no resolution. There was just the gray, and the understanding they had of it.

If Ulquiorra was the black, Grimmjow was the white, by default. When they mixed, fought, understood, touched, they were gray. Like the sand, like ash, like feelings that weren't quite black, but weren't white either.

And honestly, they preferred the gray. Just the white, the black, the simplicity wouldn't be enough for them. The gray wasn't enough either. But it was as close as they could come to an in between.

Owari