Uhm, hi. Schwhat?
My shameless GrimmHime muse ran out of fodder to consume on this site, so I guess this was birthed as a result. Amazing what can burst out of a brain after years of inactivity.
Spoilers up to manga Chapter 518. Of course, if you call yourself a Grimmjow fan, then you should know what happens there. Act 1 takes place after stupid Spoonhead makes the biggest mistake of his life and makes an enemy out of every fangirl, ever.
Disclaimer: Bleach is the creative property of Kubo Tite. Sorry for this mess, bro.
Bravura
Act 1
They were in the violent transition between battles, and in the accompanying maelstrom of confusion, his words echoed in her heart.
"Why didn't you just grab her and go the moment you found her?"
It was one thing to understand that she wasn't the priority; it was something else entirely that she was a means to an end. Orihime resented him for pointing that out. She could have continued feigning blissful ignorance, but for Grimmjow's astute - and noisy - observation.
Such a revelation didn't hurt as much as she expected it would. She figured that between her capture, incarceration, and the series of battles she'd witnessed from her box seats, she had likely exhausted her potential for emotional response. Horror had been around every corner throughout Orihime's life, and she had a very special intimacy with death, yet she'd pushed through it all with cheer and optimism. Now, though, she felt drained.
"Admit it: you enjoy the fight just as much as any of us." It was the candor with which he said it to Kurosaki-kun that made her reconsider him in that moment. Grimmjow had done nothing but surprise her time and again since she'd healed his arm in that first encounter. There was nothing predictable about his actions, although Orihime was beginning to recognize a formulaic pattern.
Her conclusion was shockingly simple.
Grimmjow did only that which pleased him. Grimmjow's instincts drove him to be the strongest, and fulfilling those instincts pleased him. Therefore, he always sought battle that challenged this strength. It was a wild circle of primal nature and human drive all wrapped in a perfect package with arms and legs and a shock of electric blue hair. And it was everything Orihime was not.
She found herself in the white sand, on her knees next to Grimmjow's mangled form. Her dress was torn and dirty. Off in the distance, Kurosaki-kun and Nnoitra's blades clashed in a dissonant cacophony of battle sounds. The tiny Arrancar Nel was off somewhere with her Fraccion, hypnotized by the battle in a way Orihime didn't understand. Before her, the Sexta Espada took slow, shallow breaths as his blood painted the ground beneath him in a growing masterpiece of defeat. He gazed blankly upon Orihime through heavy eyes - she knew he wasn't seeing her. His left shoulder was a ragged mess of butchery, but that seemed less unusual to her than his hair, which hung limp into equally lifeless eyes. She'd never seen it do anything but defy gravity, and Orihime mused on how this made him seem no less fierce. She shook her head once to clear her thoughts. Leave it to her mind to conjure up inanity in the face of such horror.
"Ayame. Shun'ō." With a steely look of concentration, she summoned two fairies and whispered her kotodama. "Sōten kisshun. I reject."
As Grimmjow's body was bathed in her golden power, she began collecting her jumbled thoughts. He needed to know why, and she had to explain herself in the little amount of time she had to heal him before the glow was noticed by others. And frankly... she needed to understand, herself. She looked down at her fingers as they fidgeted with the sand.
"This isn't for saving me, or for letting me save Kurosaki-kun, either," she began hoarsely. She cleared her throat and continued after licking her lips.
"This is for you, Grimmjow.
"I realize that this world - Hueco Mundo - is just," she stuttered here, "is just as necessary as the other worlds: the living and the spirit worlds. You Hollows... you balance things out. Like... like predator and prey. Cheetah and antelope! You chase down the delicious spirit antelopes and right before you're about to pounce sometimes the mecha-antelope comes out of nowhere with a zanpakuto and -slice-! He gets you and-..." her imagination stopped abruptly here when she noticed Grimmjow's concentrated gaze was now very focused on her face. Flustered, she continued.
"What I mean to say is... Hollows eat because they are empty. They're hungry. And they're violent, and scary, and horrible and yet still so very, very human." She looked away from him, the new weight of his stare nearly unbearable. She continued softly, "And you're the most perfect example of that I've seen."
Orihime was weary, but most of all she was tired of being a pawn. Aizen, Urahara-san, Ulquiorra, Soul Society, and now even Kurosaki-kun were all guilty of using her, she'd finally realized. These men, whether maliciously or simply by the nature of their personalities, all took advantage of passivity and denied control to the meek. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe she was still a little jumbled in the head from the beating she had taken at the hands of Loly and Menoly. Whatever the cause of her sudden initiative, this was her opportunity to wrest some of her control back. She could turn the tide of war and peace. She would prove that her kindness was not synonymous with impotence.
"If Hollows really do have to exist to maintain this balance, then someone has to... has to control them once we've defeated Aizen and destroyed the Hogyouku. Aizen upset the natural order of things by coming here and acting like a god. When he's gone," she cleared her throat again here, "when he's gone, they'll need a king again." She met Grimmjow's wide eyes with a hesitant gaze.
"Leave. Finish getting well somewhere far away from here. Get stronger, so that when this mess is over, you can stop something like it from ever happening again." She resisted the urge to end with "please".
The noise of the battle still raging grew suddenly close, interrupting her concentration and bringing the healing shield down. She turned as she strained to hear Nel's voice anywhere out there. There was no sign of the monster-child anywhere nearby. When she distractedly returned her attention to her patient, though, she gasped and fumbled backward on her bottom.
Grimmjow, still bleeding but in overall better condition, stood tall over her. He gazed coldly at her down his pointed nose, the furrow in his brow deep, and his lips were pressed together tightly in a thin line. Orihime wanted to cry. His sword rattled in its sheath when he raised his left hand to rest on its hilt. Orihime didn't fail to notice that he'd regained use of the arm thanks to her powers.
He was bearing his spiritual pressure down on her, moving no further but nevertheless making it difficult for her to draw breath. His clothes remained in tatters and his hair fell into his eyes, but he was still nothing less than terrifying in that moment. She knew she was about to die. Everything would go to waste because she'd let her damned compassion get in the way of her better sense, and her friends would suffer for it. She closed her eyes tightly and waited for the final blow.
She felt the now-familiar gust of a sonido blow past her. When Orihime opened her eyes, she was alone.
Act 2
Eighteen Months Later
Everything hurt. Orihime's gut reaction at the time of the surprise attack was to curl around and protect Nel, but she knew that was a costly mistake. Because she failed to raise her shield, Sado-kun had jumped to be her wall and defend the two of them against the onslaught of projectiles. If she could open her eyes, she'd see what her senses already told her: that Sado-kun was gravely injured.
She suspected that debris from the blast had knocked her head, because she couldn't get anything straight. Sado-kun's reiatsu was rapidly fading, and even Urahara-san must have been struck, because his was fluctuating slightly. And the Quincy was...
No, everything was muddled. Her head was spinning, and everything sounded as if she were underwater. Even her finely attuned senses were of no use in her condition. She just wanted to go to sleep; maybe then the world would stop tumbling. She was about to slump forward into complete darkness, when she suddenly felt cool fingers firmly grasp her chin and hold her up. The grip was strong and masculine, and her system was shocked by the contact. She knew this reiatsu.
"Hurry up and do your thing, you little nitwit. Your gorilla over there looks like he went through a cheese grater." The deep voice was rich and rumbled to every corner of her body. Recognition shot through her like lightning, and her eyes forced themselves open of their own accord.
"You..." Then she processed his words. "Sado-kun!" She jerked her chin from his hand and stumbled to her knees, silencing her protesting joints and still clutching Nel tightly in her arms as she shuffled her way over to his body. She contained a sob and sent out her healing fairies, forgoing the usual kotodama thanks to the resolve in her heart. Chad looked like a prop from a horror movie. The irritated voice spoke up again, slightly louder than before.
"You sure are something else, you know that? I have half a mind to maim you myself for just ignoring me like this." Orihime spun around to face her rescuer. Grimmjow stood tall behind her, both hands thrust casually in his pockets and a foul sneer on his face. His open shirt revealed his hollow hole and a gruesome scar emerging from somewhere around his left shoulder; Orihime's unfinished work. Her gaze wandered past Grimmjow to the scene of the battle, where she noticed Urahara painstakingly removing reiki shrapnel from his shoulder. She couldn't see the Quincy.
"Grimmjow, did... did you save us?" she asked the former Espada in a small but incredulous voice. He made a face then spat to the side.
"Don't think too hard, girl, or you'll hurt yourself," he evaded. Orihime's mind struggled to grasp the situation. Her feelings warred with her instincts, the mixed history between the two weighing itself out along with this newest turn of events to determine the threat he posed now. As he made a move to step towards her, though, he found himself suddenly and dramatically blocked by a crouching swirl of cloth. The world between the two expanded once again to include a third. Hard eyes looked at Grimmjow from under the brim of a striped hat.
"Sorry for the delay! I hope I didn't keep you waiting, Mr. Arrancar. Grimmjow, was it?" Urahara's sing-song voice was in stark contrast to the waves of energy Grimmjow felt buffeting him in a clear threat. Even injured, the banished captain was formidable. A mad grin split the Arrancar's face.
"I'm not gonna hurt the little princess, you fucker. Get out of my way," he snarled. Urahara smiled vapidly, but clutched the hilt of Benihime. Just as his muscles tensed to draw her, he felt a gentle hand rest on his back.
"It's okay, Urahara-san. I'll be fine." The former shinigami looked in shock at the girl behind him, but quickly recovered. After a short hesitation during which he measured his options, he straightened and stepped aside, adding a colorful, "Of course, Inoue-san!" to his gesture. He kept a hawk-like gaze on the Arrancar as he continued his approach. Orihime was the first to speak again.
"Thank you, Grimmjow," she said simply, bowing deeply. Even standing at her tallest, she barely came up to his wide shoulders. She clutched tightly to the still-unconscious Nel for strength. As she unfolded from her courtesy, Grimmjow's eyes narrowed on the tiny Arrancar in her arms before he lifted his gaze to her face. He studied her for a moment before he spoke.
"Yeah, well, I'd be a shit king if I just let one of my best subjects get kebabed in my own backyard." Some of Orihime's fear melted at his almost playful tone. His voice betrayed his fierce gaze. Orihime gathered her courage and offered a gentle tease.
"I think you left the back gate open, your Majesty. You're letting in some dangerous creatures." Her stomach fluttered when she saw a foreign ghost of a smile quirk his lips before he was all-business again.
"What you said. Back then. Do you still mean it?" Orihime saw Urahara-san perk up at Grimmjow's words. She couldn't help but be amused at the shopkeeper's opportunism. She mustered as serious an expression as she could and leveled it on the former Espada.
"I healed you then so you could become king, yes," she said choppily. She was not very well-versed in diplomacy, and she suspected the Arrancar before her was not, either. "I would do it again, if I had to," she added. Grimmjow's beryl blue eyes narrowed on her. As the tension from his study mounted, Urahara took the opportunity to interject.
"It sounds to me like you two have a previous arrangement at work here. May I perhaps make a suggestion?" He whipped out a fan to cover the bottom half of his face as the girl and the Arrancar turned to acknowledge him with varying degrees of openness. "You want to be king of Hueco Mundo, correct?" Grimmjow didn't respond at all, so he continued. "And you," he turned to Orihime, "want to help make this happen, yes?" She couldn't help the blush that blossomed on her cheeks as she gave him a small nod. His gaze lingered on Orihime as she shifted uncomfortably, the increasing attention from both men causing her to fidget. She could not imagine what the shopkeeper had on his mind - certainly he didn't misinterpret her motivations? Urahara considered her a moment longer before snapping his fan shut loudly. Orihime jumped; Grimmjow showed nothing.
"I've been guilty of underestimating you one time too many, Inoue-san. You just might have a greater potential for cunning than I ever imagined." She blanched before turning scarlet at his compliment. He directed his smile at a distrustful Grimmjow.
"I join Inoue-san in thanking you for your help with the Quincy." He gestured off in the distance, and Orihime grew queasy once she finally saw the carnage their savior had wrought. "You seem to have been repaying her a favor, but now I am left in your debt." He paused momentarily to let the implication sink in. Kisuke Urahara was a shrewd man, but for once it was Orihime's goal that he sought to further. He was honest when he expressed how impressed he was with her. His mind continued to race to put together a plan.
"Perhaps I can offer you my own proposal. If you help us in the battle against these Quincies, and if you maintain your... truce with Inoue-san, then I will personally petition to Soul Society for the legitimization of your position. Once you prove yourself strong enough to maintain it, of course." Orihime gasped, and even the nearly-forgotten Chad shifted under the golden glow of her healing cocoon. "I might not hold the same standing I once did, but I think it's safe to say my word is taken quite seriously over there. And with her on your side, no one can question your claim." Orihime looked at Grimmjow and wondered how all of this was moving so quickly. He, to his credit, had yet to react outwardly.
Grimmjow was stronger now. He had spent the past year and a half fighting and feasting, recovering his strength naturally where Orihime's powers did not finish healing. The destruction of the Hogyouku meant that he could continue evolving and was no longer bound by its unusual power. He would be king - no one would deny him that, but having someone else handle the inevitable bureaucracy would be a blessing. And if the girl agreed to help him in the long run...
His gaze locked with Orihime's. "Whaddya say, Pidge'? Wanna be 'on my side'?" She started at his address, and again felt the butterflies in her stomach when a cruel smirk cut under his bleach-white jawbone fragment. The dangerous, beastly teeth looked more like a grin to her now instead of the permanent snarl she'd always associated them with. She held her breath as she considered her decision, but who was she kidding? She had decided on this eighteen months ago on a similar battlefield.
"Your ambition doesn't go past Hueco Mundo?" she checked. He scoffed.
"What would I do with all those boring humans or those nancies in Soul Society?"
"And you'll control the Hollows?" He shrugged.
"Sometimes, I guess. The ones I don't eat myself, I suppose." Orihime knew he was only half-joking. She nodded once absently, then again with more firmness.
"Then, yes. I will." Her mouth was dry at her declaration, so she licked her lips. "I'll help you become king." His grin broke out fully and darkly, and she felt the wind stir at the slight spike of his reiatsu. Urahara shifted uncomfortably, but Grimmjow ignored his movement to regard her fully.
"Then I guess we're in this together, now, aren't we?" His small demonstration ebbed as he turned from the group and walked away towards the nearest rocky protrusion.
"I like it a lot better like this, when the ball's in your court, chick. Can't go around having you expecting things of me, now can I?"
Orihime's heart was full as with those words he sat himself down, made himself comfortable before them all, and became a part of her life forever.
A/N: Yeah, uh, hey everybody. Don't ask me where this came from; I think it's been a long time in coming. I'm notorious for not finishing my stories, so I refused to write anything until I could poop out a one-shot and not get anyone's hopes up. Hope y'all enjoy. Also, this is unbeta'd. Apologies for crap. Quote used in the summary is said by Urahara to Ichigo in Chapter 518 via VideoKonference. Hehehe, see what I did there?
EDIT: Created a cover for this. Also, a reviewer commented on Grimmjow's use of the nickname "Pidge'" and how that sounded like he came straight out of "Lady and the Tramp". After laughing hysterically, I reduced its usage to once and offered a nod of thanks to that reader for pointing it out. I can't help it if I picture Grimmjow as a colorful British officer in the Royal Navy of yesteryear during his living days. Read BovineOrbiter's "Nine Tales" to see why. Love y'aaaaallll!