All right, I'm starting the prequel of my other fic, 'Dark Moon Rising'! It's a three-part chronicle, starting with Grimmjow, Nel, then Ichigo and their relationships! Enjoy the first chapter!
Dark Moon Rising: Though Their Eyes by Boogermeister
Chapter 1- Pantera's Cyan Eyes
Grimmjow groaned as he slammed his fist down the blaring alarm clock, and the noise abruptly stopped. "Fuck . . . . I so do not want to get up," he scoffed tiredly as he sat up. His bright baby blue hair was tangled a little from the sleep, since it was past waist-length, as the fourteen-year-old staggered out of his frumpled bed. Sporting only his boxer, the teen's lean yet taut muscles were noticeable due to puberty. Walking into the bathroom, he sighed tiredly as he lifted the toilet seat and relieved himself. "Fuck . . . ."
". . . . Grimmjow, close the door if you're using the toilet," called out an exasperated woman's voice.
"I forgot, Mom," Grimmjow sighed as he finished.
"And make sure that you flush the damn toilet," she called out. "As the only child, you should at least know better . . . ." The teen grumbled in a mimicking tone as he did so, before stripping off his underwear and stepping into the shower. He, like most other kids his age, loathed going to the first day of school. It was the time to see the same old classmates, mess with the new teachers, and fit in with the stereotyped cliques.
"Grimmjow, don't stay in the shower too long," came his father's gravelly voice, similar to his own but more scuffier with age. "One time, Nel thought that you were 'playing with your weiner'."
"Damn it, that little brat shouldn't be knowing that!" Grimmjow scowled, scratching at his scalp as he washed his hair.
"Oh, so you do admit it!"
"Shut it, Old Man!" It was not his morning, he didn't care about being late on the first day. It was just the last year of his middle school and he could just spit on it. Sure, the basic academics were required but any other subjects were pointless since he only wanted to fix and customize motorcycles and cars. Finishing his shower, he tightly wrung out his long hair before stepping out the shower and drying himself with a towel. "'Playing with my weiner' . . . . why Nel would know about that?" he grumbled about his nine-year-old cousin as he walked out of the bathroom.
His mother walked past him, practically small to his growing frame. Her light aquamarine hair was tied in a loose bun as her soft blue eyes glanced at him. "Grimmjow, can you do me a favor when changed into your uniform?" she suggested.
"Nope," he promptly replied but didn't really mean it as he cocked his head to hear it.
"Take your cousin to school, her parents are leaving early for work," she muttered. Grimmjow frowned at that and rolled his eyes.
"What about Don or Pesche? They can take her," he scoffed softly.
"But her school's en route to yours, do it and I'll give you some extra lunch money," she sighed as she walked into the living room.
"Oh joy, extra lunch money!" Grimmjow exclaimed mockingly, going into his room. As expected, his uniform was ironed and neatly folded on the ironically unmade bed. Finding a clean pair of boxer, he quickly changed into his white shirt and black trousers. In his backpack was only a five-subject notebook and a couple of pens as he picked it up and left the room. Walking into the living room, he then moved into the kitchen.
"You have plenty of time to get Nellie, sit down and eat," muttered his father when the teen was making an impromptu sandwich with toast, eggs, and bacon. He was the middle-aged version of Grimmjow, with a broader built and a crew cut-like hair.
"Nah, I rather get this over with it," he sighed. "Besides, with me escorting Nel the kids over there would think I'm cool instead of those bumbling idiots." His father rolled his cyan eyes and shrugged, physically taunting him by tugging at his hair.
"What're you going with this hair of yours?" he asked. "Why not get a haircut like your old man?"
"I don't wanna look like I'm from the army . . . . or from the 1950's," he frowned, glancing at the haircut.
"Joke's on you, I was born just as the 50's ended," scoffed his father.
"Whatever. Later, Dad," he nodded as he left the kitchen, chomping onto his sandwich. "Bye, Mom!"
"Don't forget your jacket, Kitty!" smirked his mother, earning an annoyed groan from his son.
"Quit calling me that!" The teen grabbed his jacket and left his home, an apartment complex with eight floors. Grimmjow and his family lived on the sixth floor and conviently, his cousin Nel and her family lived on the third. They are related on his mother's side, with her mother and uncle being siblings. As a result of that, both families are close more or less. Preferring to take the staircase instead of the elevator, he quickly rushed downstairs to the third floor and reached the right door. Not needing to knock, he opened the door with a copied key. "Hey! Nel!" he called out as he stepped inside.
"Ah! Grimmie!" squealed the young girl as she ran up to him, her sea-green hair tucked underneath her cherished yellow hat. "Hey, you didn't bring me a sandwich?"
"Thought you ate already," he frowned but she shook her head, her yellowish-hazel eyes widened and glistened at the half-eaten sandwich like a hungry puppy. "Ugh, good thing I like you and not your retarded brothers," he relented as he gave it to her. "Speaking of which, where are they?"
"Um, Don went to school early but Pesche's still sleeping!" she obliviously snitched.
"Good, stay here so I can kick his ass," he scoffed as he made his way to his older cousins' bedroom. He knew it, the scrawny blonde was snoozing with his briefs-clad behind in the air and a pillow covering his face. ". . . . Yo, get your stupid ass up!" he scowled, immediately kicking him at the butt.
"Yowch!" Pesche yelped out in pain, the impact caused him to tumble off his bed. "Ow . . . . why'd you did that for, Grimm!" he whined as he glanced up in dramatic tears.
"You're gonna be late for school, you idiot," scoffed Grimmjow, but the older cousin blinked at him and frowned lightly.
". . . . My first day of school's tomorrow, I'm just sleeping in," he merely replied.
"Tch, then you could've take Nel to school," he scoffed.
"But I just wanna sleep in and then watch my favorite game shows," he whined. "Anyway, I can't pick up chicks with Nel around me."
"Not a good excuse," he grumbled. "Doesn't matter, I'll do it." He left the room and then walked out of the apartment, where Nel was waiting as she finished his 'meal'.
"Pesche's a weenie," she remarked, grasping his hand as they left the building.
"A scrawny one at that, how can he be skinny as hell and Don's fat like pig?" he scoffed.
"Because Mommy's skinny and Daddy's fat," she smiled.
"Well, you're right in the middle," he shrugged. They walked leisurely through the streets of their town called Hueco Mundo, known for having a Japanese-mixed population. Both Grimmjow and Nel are one-fourth since their common grandfather was Franco-Scandinavian, their grandmother a pure Japanese. But Grimmjow's father were of German-American descent while Nel's mother was part Italian. A truly mixed family, and a dysfunctional one at that.
"I think it's because we're different from the regular people," Nel muttered with a shrug, referring to the full Japanese civilians.
"We're different but it doesn't mean that they're better than us," he nodded. "I mean, look. A lot of famous celebrities are half Japanese."
"So you wanna be famous, Grimmie?" she smiled.
"That'd be fucking awesome," he smirked, a trademark from his mother.
"Don't cuss around me, you're bad."
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Grimmjow frowned as he hid in the back row of his new class, at his middle school nearly two-third of the student body were mixed. It was because that the town were once near an American/European army base. It was still there but not many kids's parents or grandparents were from the army. Except for the teen's father who retired to run a bar. Ignoring the teacher's lecture for the day, he gazed out of the window as he lazily crossed his legs. ". . . . You there." Grimmjow blinked and looked up, only to blink again.
This guy, he had never seen him before. He had to be a half a foot shorter than him but he was obviously expelling a form of dominance. He was pale-skinned with choppy black hair and bright emerald eyes that barely blinked at him as he simply stared down at him. ". . . . Yeah, what is it?" he mumbled, sitting up.
"This desk, is it vacant?" he muttered, pointing at the empty desk next to Grimmjow. The blunet glanced at him and shrugged, he could tell that he was mixed as well as any other students.
"Go nuts, it's yours," he mumbled. For once, the teen blinked before moving to sit next to him, placing his bag on top of his desk. ". . . . You're new around here? Never seen you before," said Grimmjow.
"Just transferred from another school, it was boring," he muttered plainly before glancing at him. "I'm Ulquiorra Schiffer."
"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques," he nodded in greeting. "And there was no point of transferring to here, this shithole's just as boring."
"We'll see about that . . . ." replied Ulquiorra. Grimmjow blinked at that and scoffed lightly in amusement, taking out the only notebook and a pen. "Tell me, what is there to do in this school?"
"That depends," he shrugged, scratching through his hair. "If you're smart as fuck, you hang out with the nerds. Jock if you're good at sports, a loner if you're, well, a loner."
"I believe I'm the first and the third one, Grimmjow," he muttered.
"Great, I'm the loner one," smirked Grimmjow. "I don't bother people and they don't bother me. But I can socialize . . . . with my fists." Ulquiorra just blinked at him, not getting the joke. "My old man taught me how to fight, but not to look for any trouble," he sighed. "But it's nothing compared to my Mom, she's scary as fuck whenever she's pissed."
"Interesting . . . ."
"What about you? You're a good fighter?" he asked.
"More or less, but I prefer my studies," muttered Ulquiorra. "It's expected of me from my family."
"Tch, your family sounds better than the fucking circus I call my family."
"Mr. Jaegerjaques, please refrain your language during my lessons!" scolded the teacher. Grimmjow just smirked as some classmates snickered quietly.
"Sorry."
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". . . . You're easy to talk to, Grimmjow," muttered Ulquiorra, as the last class ended. Grimmjow blinked and smirked lightly at that, standing up and stretching his stiff limbs.
"Really? People usually frown at me or just distance themselves," he scoffed, hauling his bag over his shoulder. "But . . . . some could talk to me."
"Like who?"
"Like you," he smirked as they left the classroom. But the pale teen just blinked as the students left the building, noticing that the other teen was moving to a different direction. "Guess you live on the other side of town, huh?"
"I suppose so . . . ." he replied quietly.
"Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow," smirked Grimmjow.
"Until then," he muttered as he started to walk away. Grimmjow shrugged as he made his way home, deciding to go by the elementary school to pick up Nel. Out of the relatives, she was his favorite cousin. She was almost a little sister to him since Don and Pesche were considered too idiotic in his opinion. Not far from his destination, he could see dozens of kids mingling by the school gate with their parents.
"Hey, Nel!" he called out, noticing the green hair among the fourth-graders. Nel smiled as she nudged through the crowds. "How's your first day, brat?" he asked, kneeling down to give his cousin a piggy-back ride. He then stood up with ease and walked down the street.
"Fine, we'll learn about how to multiply bigger tomorrow," smiled Nel.
"Good, get smarter than your brothers," he smirked.
"What about you? What did you do?" she asked.
"Ah . . . . made a friend, no big deal," he shrugged.
"Really, what's his name?"
"You're sometimes nosy, you know that?"
"I'm not," Nel pouted a little.
"Tell you what, I'll buy you a burger and we won't talk about my day, all right?" he bribed.
"Really, yay!" she squealed, tightening her hold on him. He sighed, the kid always tugged at his heart. However, later that night, she accidently blabbered the news to her parents who then dropped by just before dinner.
"Aw, Grimmie actually made a friend, huh?" smirked his blond-haired aunt, ruffling at the blue locks much to Grimmjow's chargin. Like Pesche, she was naturally thin and a tad taller than her husband. "You would think that a sourpuss like you would never open up to another person."
"Tch, come on, Veronica," he frowned, sulking into the couch. "The guy was new, so I just talked to him that's all."
"No, you finally decided to have a friend now that you're on your last year of middle school," she smiled lightly. Grimmjow just rolled his eyes at her, she had the same ignorance-like personality like her two sons but could be just as serious if needed. Right now, it's not as Veronica smiled as she moved away when her thick-set husband grinned at the frowning teen. That was how Nel got his hair color, though his was a shade or two darker. He couldn't get how his uncle and mother were related, considering that the younger sister were more aggressive than the often wimpy guy.
"Geez you look just like Izzy when I accidently announced her pregnancy about you," he smirked, patting at his knee. "I know, it's not that serious but it's really a first for us."
"Quiet, fat man," scoffed Grimmjow, glaring away.
"Tch, you got your mother's temper . . . . and her fuzzy sideburns," he sighed. "Well, it's just the first day . . . . maybe it'll become an actual friendship."
"Whatever, Hector," he scoffed softly. "Can you and Veronica leave now, don't want you eating my dinner."
"I already heard that from your father," Hector sighed as he stood up with a soft grunt. "Isabelle, Friedrich, talk to you later."
"See you, Hefty- I mean, Hector," muttered Friedrich, earning an annoyed light smack at his arm from his wife. "What? He wasn't that fat when I first met him, now his gut's just hanging over his belt."
"Doesn't matter, he's having a hard time losing weight because of his desk job," she sighed. "Grimmjow, dinner's ready . . . ."
"Tch, once I see Nel, I swear that I'm gonna wring her neck," grumbled Grimmjow as he made his way to the kitchen.
"It's not that serious, you got the same socializing issue as me growing up," his father sighed deeply.
"Whatever."
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Ulquiorra sighed softly as he heard it, the second day of school happened to be on Friday. "You're right, your family seems odd if known," he muttered.
"Told you, the only normal one is my little cousin," scoffed Grimmjow with a shrug. "But you don't need to hear it, it's shitty."
"You were already warned about your 'language' yesterday," he remarked coolly, quietly jotting down notes from the blackboard. But the other teen simply smirked at his attitude, usually people would be appalled by his brash attitude but this one simply shrugged it off or just didn't care. "So what of it now . . . .? Are we considered friends, Grimmjow?"
"If you want to . . . ." he shrugged.
"I don't mind, I rarely socialize with anyone so you're the first," he replied.
"You're the first friend for me also," said Grimmjow.
"You already told me that, about your family."
"Ah, right."
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Nehh . . . . it's a start.
Read and Review.
I'll update ASAP!