Originally a oneshot for Ally, as a birthday fic. I decided to share it over here.
x
Enter the building of Nitroid Productions Inc, slide into the elevator and press your finger on button B – 5. As the round button lights up a bright orange hue, try to fight the sudden wave of nausea that overcomes your senses as you feel yourself being whisked down to Basement Five, beneath several layers of the tall, glossy structure founded by Sousuke Aizen, famous computer engineer and part scientist. For those in sneakers, you're in luck. For the unfortunate ones in stilettos . . .
A dark, deserted hall, littered with rows and rows of ten feet cylinders, filled with a plastic-like membrane that glooped and gurgled as tubes mechanically pumped chemicals through the little holes they were attached to. Every cylinder held one Humanoid captive within its tempered glass, acting as incubators before the machines could be fully programmed and duly retrieved from the membrane that covered them.
At the very end of the long prison-like hall, the dual steel doors slid open to reveal a harried looking black haired man and a taller, more sedate looking brunette. Both wore the uniform white laboratory coats, but somehow on the brunette's shoulders they looked far more formal, dignified, stately even.
"This one." The laboratory assistant turned to his left with a swish of his pristine white lab coat, a look of anticipation plastered on his face, much like the nervous smile he was wearing. "Serial number GR1MMJ0W MX – 477, this could prove to be the best Huma-Com to ever be produced by you, sir."
The man behind the eager-to-please assistant lifted his chin as a knowing smirk graced his handsome features. Despite the smirk, the look on his face could only be described as ice. He shot the assistant a look and one barely perceptible nod.
"Not only the best, but one that could possibly change the future of all Huma-Coms." Sousuke Aizen accepted the oblong-shaped remote from his simpering assistant with a gracious smile. It didn't reach his cold eyes, however.
The steel doors slid open to allow two more men inside. Bright pink hair came into view.
"Ah, Szayel, how long until the information process is finished?" Aizen looked pleased.
"One more day." The pink haired man shrugged on his lab coat, which was specked with brown grease and something that looked vaguely like a bloodstain. "Give or take, maybe four more hours until we can wire him with speech recognition and security software."
Aizen raised an eyebrow at the other man, who seemed to be training his eyes on the Huma-Com in the glass cylinder. "Any reports from the main base I should know about, Shuuhei?"
Shuuhei ran a hand through his spiky black hair. "Six other models have been fully completed and are ready for release into the mass production system, sir. HQ sent me here to check if you would like to release this one with them at the same time."
He gestured to GR1MMJ0W, and the membrane within the cylinder gurgled back at him in response. Aizen drew in a sharp intake of breath, his mind reeling as he weighed the decisions and outcomes he was about to make.
"Yes." Aizen nodded with a smile that bordered on the brink of cold pleasure. "Twenty eight more hours until we release them into the public."
Beside him, Szayel gave a glee-filled snicker.
x
In another state, down the road, a few right turns and up a dingy apartment building . . .
Ichigo yawned.
Hanging from the wall above his bed, the red and white plastic clock read 5:05 pm.
Ending his yawn with a well-deserved sigh, Ichigo threw himself face down onto his mattress, accompanied by the squeaking orchestra emitted from the bedsprings. His stomach growled, but he tried his best to ignore it. He felt exhausted, and there was still a huge pile of assignments he had to complete before the weekend arrived. He lacked sleep; the bags under his eyes were puffy and slightly swollen. Thankfully, ice cubes helped wake him up most of the time, if only temporarily – enough to finish his assignments before their deadlines. Working part time at the florist's was even more exhausting, however. Lugging heavy vases and new batches of sand for the plants on display was putting a strain on his back and shoulders.
Still, a job was a job. It paid for the items he needed for education and sometimes even the food on his table. The rent his father took care of, thankfully, which lessened part of the burden.
The orange haired student rolled over onto his back with a heavy sigh. His mini stand-fan blew cool air into his face, rotating to the left and then to the right with soft whirrs. Everything was peaceful, quiet. Ichigo's eyes slowly drifted shut as sleep began to take over his senses.
Something thumped outside his apartment door. There was a distinct sound of a vase breaking, followed by a loud string of curses, and then some embarrassed coughing.
The doorbell rang, echoing throughout Ichigo's single room apartment and disrupting the short-lived peace within.
"Delivery for room 747!"
Yes.
This was what he'd been working his ass off to save up for. It was finally here! Blearily, Ichigo rolled himself off his bed and dragged his feet to the door, wishing he wasn't quite so tired.
"Afternoon, sir! Would you be Kurosaki Ichigo, with order number JQ1577294R?" a short delivery guy dressed in bright green and gray uniform from head to toe chirped enthusiastically.
Like he could even remember his order number.
"Er . . . yeah, that's me."
"Fantastic! Please sign this."
The words on his silver name tag spelled 'Akira.'
"Thanks, Akira-san." Ichigo smiled politely, clicking the pen offered and signing the papers.
Akira beamed. "No problem, just doing my job, sir!"
Next to the tall, human-sized box leaning on a trolley beside him, Akira looked about five times shorter.
Ichigo nodded and handed him the papers. "Okay, so . . . is there anything I should know about this seven month contract?"
"Allow me to explain all the basics, sir!" Akira replied happily. "This Humanoid sample you've ordered has Genius Android software already programmed in its hard drive chip, so there shouldn't be a problem when you first start it up. It's user friendly, there's also a manual provided printed in eighteen different languages should you encounter any difficulties. The first thing your Humanoid should see is you, so it will quickly recognize you as its one and only master. To make things easier, talk to it. Every Humanoid comes with voice recognition software and for safety procedures, please make sure to set your thumbprint in the biometric scanner. You'll find everything in the box, sir. Should there be any trouble, please don't hesitate to contact customer service at this number."
Done with his surprisingly fast rambling, Akira flipped a card out of his uniform pocket and handed it to Ichigo.
"Thanks. Um . . ." Ichigo bit his lip, slightly embarrassed. "Do the Humanoids come with . . . clothes?"
"I'm sorry, sir, clothes are not provided. Besides, just between you and me," Akira leaned in with a wink. "Some owners prefer 'em better naked."
As he took the card, Ichigo tried to fight his blush. "Well, I intend to use mine for study purposes."
"Oh, don't you worry." Akira chuckled, wheeling the trolley past Ichigo, into his apartment. With a quick flip, he'd set the long box down in the middle of his floor. "From what I've heard, all the latest Humanoids come with an almost human-like sex drive, too."
"What?" Ichigo gaped, trying to figure out if he'd heard things wrong.
"All the best with your Humanoid, sir!"
With another wink and a tip of his lime green cap, Akira was out the door, wheeling his now empty trolley before him. Ichigo sighed and shut the door. The delivery man had just been weird. Energetic and polite, but weird. How could a robot have a sex drive? That was just plain creepy. And now he was stuck with another problem – getting clothes for his new robot. He'd placed an order for a female, because they looked pretty cute – and yeah, so he was single and kind of wanted to feel what it would be like to live with a girl, even if she wasn't really real – in the brochure, but now he wondered if it would have been a better option to go with a male instead.
The long white box with 'Nitroid Productions' stamped on it seemed to be mocking his plight. After approximately ten minutes of pure blank staring, Ichigo figured he'd better unpack it before he went to bed and tripped over it in the morning. Anyway, it was taking up more than half his workspace.
The clock read 5:33 pm. There was still an hour or so until he had to make dinner. Ichigo rummaged around in the top drawer of his desk for a blade. Crouching down beside the box, he made a straight cut through the sealed cellophane end. From there, he slid the blade horizontally to make hauling out his Humanoid easier.
The first thing he saw was a year's worth of bubble wrap, with a day's worth of padded foam that had Nitroid Productions stamped all over it in large block font.
There was a paperback wedged in at the side. Ichigo pried it out and squinted at the small print.
The delivery guy was right – it did come with a manual, but everything seemed to be in Spanish, Mandarin, German, Finnish and Czech. There wasn't even an English version. Well, maybe he'd skimmed it too quickly. Impatiently flipping through once more to find the Japanese version, Ichigo spotted a small square box under the Humanoid's bubble wrapped legs. Curious, he pulled it out and opened it. There was an instruction leaflet in it, with a biometric scanner in a shiny new glass case.
"Activate Humanoid before activating thumbprint scanner." Ichigo mumbled as he read off the given leaflet. "I would if I could. How do I activate my Humanoid?"
Amid the carefully arranged piles of bubble wrap, Ichigo touched what seemed like skin. It was smooth, and a little hard. And it was warm, like human temperature warm. Nitroid's technology could not get anymore amazing. Tugging his Humanoid from the white box, Ichigo used the blade to slice through the cellophane bits holding the bubble wrap in place. He pushed away all the plastic, eager to see what his soon-to-be homework partner would look like.
"I probably seem like some freaking pervert." He grinned at himself as he tore the last of the bubble wrap away and packed it back into the box.
Honey brown eyes took in a flat wide chest with broad shoulders, toned abdominal muscles and fair skin. Ichigo felt his mouth drop open in a mixture of surprise and shock. Partially enclosed in a membrane-like plastic – not unlike cling wrap – was a naked male Humanoid, eyes closed like he was asleep. Ichigo felt his heart plummet down somewhere below his knees.
Whoa.
"I thought I ordered a female."
In the fitted membrane wrap, right above his navel, lay a little remote about the size of a small smartphone. Ichigo tried not to look anywhere below his Humanoid's navel – it was kind of hard not to, but he managed anyway - and clicked the soft green button that had the words ACTIVATE in white capitals on it.
There was a beep from the remote, and a quiet click from the Humanoid. Ichigo chewed his lower lip in half excited anticipation.
His cellphone rang, blaring out a tinny version of his favorite song. Scrambling to his feet, the orange haired teen raced for his bed, where he'd left his phone.
"Hello?"
Behind him, his Humanoid was already getting to his feet, discarding the last of the bubble wrap to reveal himself in all his naked glory.
"Yeah, that won't be a problem. Sure, a few extra hours won't kill me, don't worry. Alright, bye."
Ichigo slid his phone shut and turned around, chewing over his schedule worriedly. "More work at the florist's. Got to get there by three p.m. tomorrow afternoon . . ."
He trailed off as something moving before him caught his full attention.
Light blue hair, piercing blue eyes, a ripped body, and a nice package screamed at Ichigo that he'd gotten himself a real deal. It was a little weird to be having that sort of thought about another guy – but well, it was just kind of cool to have a Greek god living in his apartment.
Wait.
What was he thinking?
"I should totally slap myself right now." Ichigo chided, trying to push all his dirty thoughts away into the darkest corner of his brain.
"Why?" The Humanoid spoke in a low almost-growl, sending tingles down Ichigo's spine.
"You can talk! Wait, of course you can. Um . . . I mean . . . nothing, forget what I said." He scrambled for the manual. "Uh, let's see. You've got to have a name, or something, right? Are there anymore safety procedures I'm supposed to take care of?"
The Humanoid just stood and watched him silently, expectantly.
"Anyway, I'm Ichigo." Ichigo offered him a half-smile.
Still nothing.
The teen tried again. "I just got you today. You're my Humanoid."
"I don't belong to anyone." He fixed Ichigo with a hostile glare.
Wow.
Okay, so he'd gotten himself an aggressive, unreceptive Humanoid who clearly had an egotistical side to him. Well, good thing he'd learned to embrace changes since his high school days.
The teen put his hands up in a mock gesture of surrender. "Okay, chill. You can be my homework buddy. How does that sound?"
"Sound?"
Ichigo sighed and shook his head, trying to think of what to do next. His honey brown eyes traveled from the Humanoid's torso to his hips, and then down below.
Nice.
So they made them big, too. Ichigo felt his mouth run dry, and cleared his throat to speak. He was going to go nuts if he didn't pull his eyes away from the guy. Humanoid. Machine. He had to keep reminding himself that the thing standing before him was a robot.
"Right, first things first, let's get you some clothes. And . . . what are you called again?"
"MX – 477 GR1MMJ0W." He answered.
Grimacing, Ichigo shook his head. "No way am I gonna be calling you that while you're staying with me. You look Caucasian. What do you say to the name Seth?"
The blue haired Humanoid stood in all his naked glory, shooting icy daggers with his eyes. Ichigo sighed.
"I guess not. So . . . what about Takashi? It's a nice name." The teen gave his new study-partner an eager grin.
He received a blank stare in reply. Well, so much for responsiveness. Still, he wasn't about to give up so easily. Reading the sticker tag stuck onto the Humanoid's arm, Ichigo shot him a grin.
"How does Grimmjow sound?"
His Humanoid smirked.
Ichigo blinked. "It does fit you. So, are you happy with it?"
"Voice recognition complete." The Humanoid said. "Activate biometric thumbprint for safety purposes."
Ichigo took that as a yes.
"Great. Now you're telling me what to do." Sticking his tongue out at Grimmjow, the teen reached for the small scanner. "Okay, should I just place my thumb in it or what?"
Another blank stare. Ichigo had a distinct feeling he was being messed with – subtly. He rummaged around the floor near his bed and lifted out the largest T-shirt he owned. Grimmjow looked about two or three sizes bigger than he was.
"Here, wear this while I figure it out."
Grimmjow allowed the white shirt tossed his way to hit his chest and flop to the floor. The scanner beeped twice and Ichigo pressed his thumb into the slot.
"Why aren't you putting it on?"
"Cotton shirt; ninety five percent cotton, five percent polyester. Colour; white. Made in Japan. Average number of times worn, calculating."
Ichigo leapt to his feet. "Okay, now that's just creepy. Stop it."
Grimmjow complied and stood there silently, watching him intently, obediently.
"Look," Ichigo sighed, placing the scanner on a table. "That delivery guy pretty much gave me a half-assed explanation about handling you, and the manual's in . . . it's just unreadable. I'm just not used to having a human-like robot around, so bear with me, okay?"
Ichigo would have liked to think that the look Grimmjow sent him was one of silent agreement. Though, with those piercing blue eyes, he couldn't tell.
"Now could you put on the shirt, please?"
Grimmjow just stared at it in silence, then looked back up at him with a blank expression.
"Maybe I should just return you."
Grimmjow frowned. "Why?"
"Because . . ."
Maybe telling a robot the truth would be a piece of cake to some people, but Ichigo felt otherwise. he was fairly certain he was interacting with a machine, but he didn't like to make a habit of blurting things out - especially not things he knew would hurt real people. Even calling a robot a broken machine to its face struck the guilt chord in Ichigo. He just couldn't bring himself to say it.
"I was kidding. That was a joke."
Grimmjow gave him a slow nod. "A joke - something said or done to evoke amusement; a mischievous trick or a prank. Word definition complete."
Shaking his head with disbelief, Ichigo sighed. He figured all Humanoids came with built-in communication and interaction software, but maybe his was just, well, defunct. Still, there was a possibility that Grimmjow was one of the latest models and had yet to update on all these much-needed everyday processes.
Watching Grimmjow watch him vacantly, Ichigo bit on his lower lip contemplatively.
"Looks like there's a lot of stuff I'll have to teach you."
x
I'd kill for a Humanoid Grimmjow. ;) Thoughts?