Disclaimer: I do not use big words and I do not own Bleach.
Grimmjow walks around aimlessly for hours, shivering every now and then from the coldness of the night. He receives some weird stares from the people that he passes by before they quickly shun away from him. He does not blame them for thinking he is bad news. He would too if he found someone walking around in the middle of a cold night, shirtless and with a hair color such as his, especially in this part of the neighborhood. He can easily be mistaken as a rapist, a pervert or one of the gang members that litter the streets.
Speaking of gang members, he has been keeping watchful eyes on his surroundings, making sure that he will not by any chance bump into them. God knows they can hold a grudge.
The cold once again grips at him. He shoves his hands into both the front pockets of his worn jeans to warm himself up a little bit.
His fingers play with the metal object inside his pocket before he draws it out. It is the key that the girl returned to him a couple of nights ago. He turns it around in his hand with dismal looks on his face.
It is the key to his home.
Grimmjow snickers at the thought of calling that place his home. You do not get yelled at every time you walk into a home nor do you have to endure the dread of seeing your mother getting physically abused and ill-treated at all times. Also, in a place called home, you do not have the urge to kill your step-father every chance you get.
No, that is most definitely not a home. A hell hole is a more fitting description for that place.
He doubts that his step-father would even notice that he is gone. As for his mother… she would probably be glad that the source of her misery is out of her sight.
Grimmjow sighs.
Grimmjow thinks that his mother is the biggest idiot he has ever known. Despite being abused and disrespected, she refuses to leave her alcoholic abusive husband. When Grimmjow went against his step-father, tried to stop him from killing her, he got yelled at by her. How fucking deranged is that?
That was when he decided that enough is enough. He stayed that long because he was worried about his mother’s well being but after he figured out how far gone his mother is, he could not stand to live in that house any longer. So he packed his bags and waited for his step-father to fall asleep in front of the television. He did not have to wait long. After a couple of beers he was out cold. Grimmjow had crept into his mother’s room and left some of the money he had worked for in her tired sleeping hands before he sneaked out of the house.
He hopes she can take care of herself and not get killed by that bastard.
Sighing heavily, Grimmjow shoves the key back, deep into his pocket.
He does not really have a place to go.
Well, okay, maybe he does have a place to go. However, even though he is in this predicament because he ran away from that place a few days ago, he has vouched to himself not to go back to that place if he can help it and his resolve is not that weak.
So now he is wandering the streets once again. His belongings were taken by the gang he encountered the night he met that girl. He was lying on one of the benches in the park when those three assholes decided to hassle him. He had left his bag when he ran, hoping to get it back when the ordeal passed. Unfortunately that did not happen and if it was not for the girl, he would probably have been dead, cut to pieces and thrown in a dumpster somewhere.
Grimmjow stops in his tracks as he realizes that that was the first act of kindness anyone had ever shown him.
Nobody cared before.
But she did. She had saved his ass, brought him to her apartment and took care of him. She even healed him. She has no reason to do all those things. They were strangers. And yet she did despite his reaction when he discovered that she is not really… normal.
And what did he do in return?
He ran away at the first opportunity he got. He did not even have the courtesy to put her on the bed. He had left her lifeless body on the cold floor!
When he thinks about it, he is not sure why had he run away in the first place. It is not like he was held captive by her.
Okay so he did freak out a little when he thought she wanted to kill him with that army knife of hers, or when she slit her wrist or when he thought she was a vampire ready to suck his blood dry…
Fine… he freaked out a lot. Okay? Are you happy now?!
But that was because he did not understand the situation. His senses were consumed by terror. They gradually dissipated though when he found out that she had restored him back to health. Truth be told, when he walked out of that apartment, he was feeling thankful and grateful to her for helping him out.
He walked out on her simply because he is an egocentric bastard.
-o-
Grimmjow finds a few dollars in his pockets and decides to get some food from the 24 hours convenience store. God knows that that place needs to have some solid food besides mineral water and ice cream. No wonder she is vertically challenged.
He chuckles to himself.
The sounds of an alarm clock somewhere in the neighborhood alert him that the sun is going to come up soon. People begin to stir from their slumbers, ready to face a new day to perform their mundane activities.
He starts to jog in the direction of the girl’s apartment. The trademark feral grin of his is plastered on his face. He does not know why but he is in high spirits at the prospect of seeing her again. He hopes that she is not dead though. He has a lot of questions that she needs to answer.
By the time Grimmjow reaches her apartment, he is panting and there are beads of sweat on his naked chest and his face. His heart threatened to free itself from his rib cage, both from anticipation and the jog.
Grimmjow inhales a lungful of air to steady his breathing before his hand reaches for the door knob.
The plastic sack of grocery he is holding drops to the floor. Before the food he bought clatters out of the bag, Grimmjow has the man that was bending over the girl’s unconscious body a second ago by the neck. Grimmjow assumes that the man has been here for quite a while since he notices that the girl has been transferred to the bed.
Grimmjow slams the man against the nearest wall. “Who the fuck are you?” asks Grimmjow as he shakes the man for an answer. The man is smaller than him, with skin as pale as Rukia and dark raven hair to match. He also looks like he can break at any given time; his vulnerability and fragileness are just like her as well. His emerald green eyes look stoically at Grimmjow as if he is not being strangled at that moment. There are scars that resemble tear tracks on his face. All in all, he looks like a very suspicious man. When Grimmjow said suspicious, he means a fucking emo lolicon pervert.
The man’s hands grab hold of the hands that are throttling him and with one swift movement he twists it, forcing Grimmjow to release his hold against the man’s throat with a yelp. He charges again but the man avoids his frontal attack simply by side stepping him before he knocks the back of Grimmjow’s head, sending Grimmjow sprawling across the room.
Crap.
Despite his lean body, the man had an amazing amount of power behind his attack. He is pretty agile as well. Grimmjow glares daggers at him as he tries to get up, rubbing the back of his throbbing head.
The man frowns at him. “I knew it.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You ate all the ice cream.”
It was not a question. More like a statement. There is flash of anger in his voice and a fleeting hostility reflected in his eyes. It gives Grimmjow the chills. He could not grasp what exactly the man is trying to say. What does anything have to do with him eating the ice cream? Why was he so fucking pissed?
“For fuck’s sake dude, would you just tell me who the fuck you are and what are you doing in this girl’s apartment?” Grimmjow growls.
The man turns his attention to the girl once again. He bends down, just like he did when Grimmjow first saw him, and starts to undress the girl. “I am her Acolyte.”
Grimmjow blinks inanely at his answer. “Her fucking what?”
His eyes travel to the man’s hand as he unties her sash. “Hey… Why the hell are you undressing her?!”
Grimmjow quickly turns around as not to gawk at the girl’s now almost naked body even though he manages to catch a glimpse of her bra.
“You better not try anything funny you fucking lolicon or I’ll fucking kill you. Get away from her!” warns Grimmjow. The man however does not respond to his words of warning so Grimmjow steals another glance. He could feel his cheeks reddening and his jeans tightening. The bastard has completely taken the yukata off so the girl is lying there wearing nothing except for her panties and bra.
Black sexy fucking undies, thought Grimmjow as he could not stop himself from staring. “What… Get away… Or I will…” There is no conviction in his threat. Hell, he could not even complete a sentence. Grimmjow wants to smack himself silly but his brain refuses to function properly seeing that it is occupied with the image of the almost naked girl in front of him. She is flawlessly beautiful.
Ignoring Grimmjow, the man walks to the kitchen and gets something from one of the cabinets. Without further ado, he starts to dress the girl with the yukata he obtained from the cabinet. Apparently that is where she puts her clean clothes. The man does this with practiced hands like he has done it so many times before. After he ties the sash, the man covers her up with a blanket which has a spot of Grimmjow’s dried blood on it.
Grimmjow watches the proceedings from his corner. He has never felt so out of place in his life before. His initial thought had something to do with that man and the word rape but now he is not sure what the bastard just did.
“You said something earlier…” Grimmjow begins as soon as he confirms that the man has finished doing whatever he was doing.
“I’ve said a lot of things.”
Smart-ass emo bastard.
After he made sure that not a hair is out of place, the man walks to his bag and takes out a laptop and some other gadgets that Grimmjow has never seen before. He knows exactly where the plugs are as he plugs in the chargers for these gadgets which only further prove that he is no stranger. He acts like Grimmjow does not exist.
This obviously pissed Grimmjow off. “Answer my damn questions, dude!”
The man diverts his attention to Grimmjow who has walked over and is now towering over him.
“Why are you still here? Leave or I will call the police on account of trespassing,” states the man, clearly not intimidated by Grimmjow.
“Ceh, I could say the same about you!”
“This apartment is leased under my name.”
That makes Grimmjow shut his mouth for a second. “She brought me home, okay? I was out buying some stuff.” Grimmjow points to the food that is still on the floor in front of the door.
“You left her on the floor.”
Shit.
“I don’t –“
“Don’t lie, trash”
“Fucking fucker… Who are you calling trash?!”
“My apologies. I was meant to say ‘do not lie, you fucking trash’,” corrects the man with a mocking tone. His cold emerald eyes bore into Grimmjow’s daring him to retaliate.
I hate this fucking smart-ass emo bastard.
“I didn’t do anything to her, alright? She just collapsed on her own,” mumbles Grimmjow knowing that lying is not his best option at the moment. He has a strong idea that this man is the other man the girl had mentioned earlier; the one that has been in her apartment before. Looking by the way he acted, it is clear that this man is a close acquaintance of hers.
The man looks at him, expecting him to continue with his explanation but since Grimmjow chose to remain silent, his gaze slid from the cobalt blue haired guy to the door, suggesting that it is wise for Grimmjow to leave them alone.
In response to that, Grimmjow sits cross-legged on the floor and defiantly crosses his arms in front of his chest as well. “I am not going anywhere until I know what is going on.”
“I don’t have time to entertain a brat.”
“Well, just do what the fuck you want to do then. I’ll just wait till she wakes up.”
The man stares angrily at Grimmjow. “That is not possible.”’
“We’ll see about that,” challenges Grimmjow. He thought he could see a vein popping on the man’s temple. A snicker crawls up to his lips. The hostility between them is blatant. Grimmjow does not care if this man has the same power as the girl, he would still kick his ass or die trying to get the answers to his questions.
The man takes a quick look at the girl and decides that he has wasted more than enough time dealing with the trash. His priority now is to nurse Rukia back to health. Let’s just hope she recovers before any threat appears. God knows they love to take advantage when she is most frail. He puts back his mask of indifference and returns to his laptop and his gadgets, disregarding Grimmjow once again.
Grimmjow grins triumphantly.
However his triumph is short-lived. After an hour of being ignored, Grimmjow starts to get restless. He leaves his spot and walks to the balcony to look at the rising sun. The neighborhood is getting livelier by the minute. He can see children and teenagers his age walking to school. At the same time the adults are getting ready to go to work. Some of the school girls that walk by see him and start to giggle. He knows that the girls must be gawking at his naked upper body. Grimmjow waves back nonchalantly with a big charming smile plastered on his face which only makes the girls giggle and ogle harder. When the girls have passed, Grimmjow turns his attention to a few housewives gossiping at the corner of the street while some hoodlums extort money from one of the weak-looking kids on the opposite side of the street.
What a perfect place to keep your secret a secret. Nobody cares.
Grimmjow takes a quick look at the man. He notices that the man’s eyes constantly gaze at the girl and for a few fleeting seconds the usually dead emerald green eyes are filled with concern.
Grimmjow leans on the balcony railing as he observes the man with great interest. He reckons the man is in his mid twenties. By the look of the clothes he is wearing; a crisp white shirt and suit pants which undoubtedly are from some world renowned designer, and those fancy looking gadgets and laptop, he must be doing pretty well in life.
With all these attributes, Grimmjow has come to a conclusion. There are two probabilities that might have explained the situation at the moment. Probability number one: this fucking emo lolicon pervert is the girl’s sugar daddy. It makes sense since he said he is the one leasing the apartment and since he looks like he has money to burn, it only clarifies the point that Grimmjow is trying to make; he is keeping his relationship with the girl a secret. Since no one cares about anyone in this neighborhood, renting this rundown apartment is something that seems commonsensical and appropriate. Not to mention the lack of awkwardness when he stripped her down. It seems like he has done it countless times before.
Grimmjow grunts. Thinking about him having his way with her is pissing him off so he quickly jumps to the not-so-logical probability number two: he could be her comrade. His strength and agility are comparable to hers. He also has a detached look about him, as if he does not really belong to this world. These qualities make Grimmjow think that the possibility of this probability being real is pretty high. For a man, this bastard is handsomely beautiful even with those eerie scars adorning his face. His face is that of a doll. Don’t vampires charm their victims by seducing them to submission?
But she said she wasn’t a vampire.
Grimmjow tries to recall the descriptive name the man had used earlier when he introduced himself.
“Dude, what you mean when you said you are an Acolyte? Are you from the church or something?”
The man stops typing. He looks at Grimmjow with disinterest for a few seconds before he resumes his work.
Grimmjow takes a deep breath and runs both of his hands into his disheveled hair, trying hard to calm himself down. He has had about enough with this bastard’s attitude.
“Would you drop that conceited attitude of yours? It’s fucking pissing me off.”
“Nobody is forcing you to stay.”
“Tch. What the hell is your fucking problem, dude?”
“You are,” replies the man readily with that obnoxious monotone voice of his.
Grimmjow’s eyes twitch. “I’m not the one sticking that annoying stick up your ass, dude.”
“I could say the same thing to you,” the man ridicules.
Grimmjow stomps his way to the man and grabs the front of his collar. He drags the man closer, their faces separated by a mere couple of inches.
“Better spill the beans now, jackass,” demands Grimmjow. The man just looks at him in the eyes with those indifferent eyes of his. He does not even flinch.
“What makes you think you have the right?”
“She saved me.”
“That makes you special?”
“No… but… “
“Let go of me,” commands the man. Knowing that the man could set himself free if he wants to yet he chooses to remain limp in his grip makes Grimmjow feels a bit bold.
“Not until you tell me what the fuck she is.”
“Who she is, is none of your business.”
“Tell me who the fuck you are then, dude”
“My name is not dude, trash.”
“And mine ain’t trash, bitchface.”
“Ulquiorra.”
“Grimmjow.”
Snickering, Ulquiorra looks straight at Grimmjow’s face. The name is so fitting. It is as loud and as vulgar as the young man himself.
As he sees Ulquiorra snicker, Grimmjow’s clutch on Ulquiorra’s collar tightens. He is aggravated beyond belief to see that the raven haired man is not the slightest bit unsettled by his physical roughness.
Ulquiorra on the other hand weighs up the options he has. He could kill this brat but since Rukia saved his sorry life, he does not think she will be thrilled to find out that he has undone what she has risked her life for. Or he could knock this imbecile unconscious. It would be a piece of cake and would save him the headache, but if Rukia is awake before he is… no, both these plans were too dangerous. He is not going to risk his neck for this trash. Besides, he has observed him since he showed his face. He believes that Grimmjow is not a threat by any means.
Nonetheless, the fact that he had left Rukia unconscious on the cold floor in her condition still does not sit well with Ulquiorra. He is sure that Grimmjow decided to run away earlier but for whatever reason something, maybe his curiosity, brings him back to this place.
Ulquiorra sighs. Looks like the only thing he could do is to satisfy his inquisitiveness. Of course he would not tell him of the consequences. He would tell Rukia that he has told Grimmjow the clandestine and if luck is on his side, maybe Rukia will kill the brat herself with her own two hands. He will surely enjoy watching Rukia snap his neck.
“What do you want to know?”
Grimmjow’s clutch on Ulquiorra slackens. He blinks a few times. He can hardly believe his luck. Looks like Ulquiorra finally decides to impart the secret he is dying to know.
Seeing that Grimmjow is lost for words, Ulquiorra continues. “Why did you come back?”
“Huh?”
“You ran away from her earlier, did you not?”
Grimmjow releases Ulquiorra’s collar. He must admit that he feels to some extent embarrassed by his action of leaving his savior unattended when she is so helpless. His eyes travel to the girl who is lying on the bed, seemingly fast asleep. “Is she going to be okay?”
Ulquiorra corrects his collar and solemnly nods. “I came just in time.”
Grimmjow releases a sigh of relief. They stand silently for a full minute before Grimmjow braces himself to repeat his question. He gets the feeling that there will be no turning back once everything is revealed. “Who are you?”
“My name is Ulquiorra Schiffer and I am her Acolyte,” replies Ulquiorra without missing a beat.
“You fucking told me that already. Start explaining,” demands Grimmjow.
Oh yeah, Ulquiorra is definitely going to enjoy watching Rukia snapping this trash’s neck.
“In layman’s terms, I am her assistant.”
“Assist her with what?”
“In her case, providing her with what she needs.”
Grimmjow looks at Ulquiorra dubiously before he glances at the girl. How can a man his age be an assistant to a young girl? It just does not add up. Unless…
“Is she the daughter of a mafia or something?”
Ulquiorra stares at Grimmjow who asked the question with a straight face. The emerald eyed man fights the urge to snicker.
“No, she is not. But almost.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“That is for you to find out.”
“Fucker,” mumbles Grimmjow frustratingly. “Now tell me about the cut.”
Ulquiorra frowns. “What cut?”
“She fucking slit her wrist, for fuck’s sake and it healed like –“ Grimmjow snaps his fingers to emphasize his word. “- that, in mere minutes!”
Ulquiorra looks sharply at Grimmjow. His eyes turns to slits for a second, feeling extremely mad. No wonder this trash is so curious. Rukia has shown him something that should not be shown to any mortal except those who has sworn to the Covenant. He glances at Rukia, now with a slight frown on his face.
Why, Rukia?
“You have an over active imagination –“
“Don’t try to pull that kind of shit with me,” Grimmjow dares Ulquiorra to deny it.
“Do you have any logical explanation for it then?”
Grimmjow shakes his head as he smirks. “That is why you are gonna fucking explain it to me.”
Sighing, Ulquiorra walks towards the bed and seats himself on the edge of it. The bed creaks but the girl who is on it remains unconscious. “What you have seen is just one of her powers.”
“Do you have that kind of power too?” asks Grimmjow as his eyes follow Ulquiorra’s figure.
“I am a mortal human just like you.”
“Bullshit. I saw you dodged my fist.”
Ulquiorra scoffs. “Any properly trained person can dodge that fist of yours.”
Gritting his teeth, Grimmjow ignores the taunts. He suddenly launches himself towards Ulquiorra. He plans to send an unexpected punch but true to his words, Ulquiorra easily catches his incoming fist. A snicker escapes his pale lips.
“You go to a special mafia school or something?” grunts Grimmjow as Ulquiorra releases his fist.
“No. She teaches me all I know about fighting.”
Grimmjow looks incredulously at Ulquiorra who stays silent to allow the blue-haired teen to process the information he just relayed. Grimmjow gazes disbelievingly at the girl who is lying so innocently on the bed.
“She’s tiny…”
“That’s her advantage.”
“What did she train you? How to be a fucking vampire? Wait… did she turn you into one of her kind?”
Grimmjow starts backing out towards the balcony. If this man tries to do anything funny to him, he will take that chance and jump off the balcony if he needs to.
Ulquiorra is amused at the shit that coming out of this trash’s mouth. “What part of me being a mortal human did you fail to understand?”
Embarrassed, Grimmjow coughs to hide his slip-up but remains on the balcony. The horn blaring down the street fills in the awkward silence inside the apartment. After several minutes, Grimmjow turns to Ulquiorra again. He has not finished interrogating this man.
“How long have you been her Acolyte?”
“9 years.”
Grimmjow calculates the figures in his head. “You want me to believe that a second grade kid teaches you all the slick moves?”
“She hasn’t aged a bit since the day I met her.”
Grimmjow’s gaze falls on the girl once again. “You are telling me that she has always been this young?”
Ulquiorra nods lazily. All her words earlier rushes back to Grimmjow’s mind. Hasn’t she told him that she is at least 100 years older than him?
“How old is she exactly?”
“She did not disclose that information to me,” answers Ulquiorra. He too looks at Rukia. “I doubt that she herself remembers how old she is.”
“What do you mean?”
“Her kind has been around since the Trojan Wars –“
“The fucking Greek mythology?”
“Yes.”
“You are telling me that she’s from back then?!”
Ulquiorra tries hard not to roll his eyes. He hates repeating himself, especially for an obnoxious kid like Grimmjow. “I am not sure. However on several occasion she had mentioned some events that occurred during the Napoleon Wars. As far as I know she did not remember anything that taken place before that time. It led me to believe that she was ‘born’ during that era.”
Grimmjow slides down the balcony rail holding his head in his hands. This is certainly not what he had expected to find out. She was not kidding about killing him if she told him the truth. So that is how she manages to survive all these years without people finding out about what she really is.
She killed them.
Suddenly the fears that he holds at bay floods in again. He looks desperately at Ulquiorra.
“What is she then?”
Before Ulquiorra could utter a word of respond, there is a sudden gust of wind which forces Grimmjow to cover his face and shuts his eyes. When he opens his eyes, it takes a while for him to decipher what is going on.
Ulquiorra is being held against the wall by his throat. His feet do not touch the ground as he struggles to set himself free, which would be easy if Grimmjow is the one throttling him. The problem lies with the guy clad in black with the most outrageous orange hair Grimmjow has ever seen. He looks to be around Grimmjow’s age as well. He towers over the small figure of Ulquiorra with a smug grin plastered on his face as his grip tightens around Ulquiorra’s neck. The wild look in his eyes sends shivers down Grimmjow’s spine and he immediately knows that this man is the same kind as the girl on the bed and is not to be trifled with.
“What the fuck were you doing, Schiffer.”
It was not a question but more of a warning. Ulquiorra struggles to catch his breath as he looks repulsively at the guy who is strangling him. Grimmjow must admit that the fucking emo lolicon pervert has guts.
Since Ulquiorra does not respond to his inquiry, the guy punches Ulquiorra’s stomach which knocks the breath out of him. With a satisfied cackle, the guy releases Ulquiorra who coughs and winces in pain.
“D-damn you, Kurosaki,” curses Ulquiorra once he regains his breath back.
Ichigo smirks widely as he takes Ulquiorra’s place at the edge of the bed, ignoring the glares from Ulquiorra. His hands automatically travel up and down the girl’s thighs. Grimmjow is thankful to Ulquiorra for covering her up with a blanket otherwise…
He could not finish his thoughts as he tenses up and swallows hard when Ichigo’s sneering amber eyes meet his own cobalt blue orbs. He tries hard not to flinch. He has never been so terrified in his life before. If he is a pussy, he would have pissed in his pants by now. He has no doubt that the guy who has just flown in out of nowhere will kill him, with no qualms whatsoever.
“Hey you,” Ichigo addresses Grimmjow. His voice is sharp and menacing. “Why the fuck are you shirtless?”
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