A/N: I deserve something nice once in a while. I love you All Time Low. You bring me so much joy. Unlike, you, Mr. Turtle. Shame on you, you munchkin. Hehe…inside joke. Well, well, well…here we go. My try at being cool. Let's see if it works.
It's Nothing Personal
"I'm a walking travesty, but I'm smiling at everything.
You were never a friend to me.
You can keep all your misery,"
Hueco Mundo was nothing like home, nor did it feel like a home. A home was something real. Something that held character and warmth and something like love…not something fake. Not something florescent and shiny and unrealistic. Not this disaster that Aizen had created. Not this wasteland of lies and things that meant absolutely nothing to anyone. 'Home' was the opposite of what Hueco Mundo was and could ever be.
But Kitty held her tongue like a good girl should. She kept her mouth shut and took his shit day after day. She tried not to think about what kind of life this was. What kind of things she had done to get where she was, the people she had hurt; she had killed…
She missed street lamps. She missed walking out into the rain, drunker than you ever think you can be, singing songs that she learned in kindergarten. She missed walking along the street, seeing someone you know, and waving at them, knowing they care enough to look your way…
But Hueco Mundo was not home. Hueco Mundo was this substitute for something that was missing, something that was lacking in the whole god forsaken place: compassion.
She missed her home.
Aizen's word was rule.
Aizen's word was law.
Aizen's word was fucking bull shit.
Grimmjow couldn't bear to hear another word to slither out that thing's mouth. He was sick of this whole fucking place. He was sick of the little freedom he was granted and he was sick of being told what to do like somebody's pet. He was not going to become anything like Ulquiorra, someone who listened obediently to Aizen's every word like he was some sort of oracle…(because in Las Noches, Aizen had become something of a 'God') He refused to bow down to such a low-life piece of shit. Some days, he almost gave up on it all to just tear back into the human world so he could rip that orange-haired shinigami's head off. He dared, oh he dared…
But he just couldn't. He didn't know why. Maybe he was more messed up in the head than he ever thought he was, but he couldn't bring himself to leave her here…alone. He would never admit it to anyone, but he felt sorry for her. He felt sorry that her every move was pinpointed and written down and recorded every second of the day. He felt sorry that she missed being alive. He felt sorry that she was so alone, so insane that she carved the words into her skin. (If you ever looked closely, you can see the faint outline of the letters, the injuries that will never heal. You can read each letter, knowing that this is what she felt. This is where she was, mentally…) He felt sorry that she had to watch her best friend die right next to her before she, herself, passed. He was sorry that she had to betray the only people who ever accepted her.
Of course, he would never tell anyone.
She was his. That's all that mattered.
The rule was simply this:
No one touches Kitty. Ever.
If that rule was broken, you were going to have some problems.
Grimmjow denied being 'possessive'. He defined it as 'caring too damn much about that little bitch'. Obsession is a word used by the lazy to describe the dedicated. (But who ever said being obsessed was a bad thing?) The first time this rule was broken, (this unwritten law of Las Noches) things didn't go over so well. It began with something simple, just a hand on her shoulder. All Starrk wanted was to ask her a simple question. But things that seem simple from a distance usually are complicated once you look more closely at them.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Starrk?!" Grimmjow barked at the espada, who without realizing it, had breached the code between he and the Sexta espada.
"Oh, I was just asking Kitsune a question---"
"Like hell you were! Fuck off!" He snapped, reaching out to pull the younger girl towards him.
(Obsession and caring too much go hand in hand)
The day Kitty faced off with her old captain was a day she would never forget…
She was still stuck in the sea of sounds that came with the battle. She could still hear his voice, icy and sharp in her eardrums. She could still feel his blade deep in her gut, cold and hateful. She could still see his eyes, filled with regret and anger and forgiveness and revenge. She could still smell the blood, belonging to both opponents…
"Hey, Kitty, wait up!"
(!)
"Goddamnit, Kitty, slow down!"
()
"What's your deal?!" Grimmjow pulled at her shoulder, turning her and tearing her away from her thoughts. She hated the way his eyes stared her down, the way they looked so caring when no one else was around…
"Hey…hey…why're you crying?" His voice was soft, like the pillow she desperately needed to rest her head on. His pulled her close, the safety of the white-washed walls watching them both. He could feel the warmth of her recently wounded abdomen against his waist.
"I'm 20th…" she whispered into the cloth on his chest, her eyelids falling over her eyes like curtains, and the show was now over. She felt him become tense, his fingers sliding through her hair with ease.
"Yeah…" was all he could say. (Of course, this affection only happened behind the scenes, when no one could see….when no one could taunt and laugh and say what they would)
"The moon's not real," She stated bluntly.
"Well, yeah, this whole place isn't real," Grimmjow mumbled into his knees.
"Do you miss being alive?" Of course, she brought up topics like this at the worst times. Grimmjow turned to look at her face, seeing the honest curiousity in her eyes. He sighed. He couldn't say no.
He sat up, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I dunno,"
"Come on. There has to be something you miss about living in the human world,"
"Kitty, I said I don't fucking know,"
"You don't know?" Grimmjow looked up at the 'fake' sky, wishing that his entire existence before any of this was fake.
"I don't remember…"
"You don't or don't want to?"
"God, will you stop prying into my fucking business? You're starting to piss me off," he growled, his voice low and mean. Sometimes, she needed the God honest truth.
She flinched. She looked down. She toyed with the fabric of her 'dress'. She made circles in the roof.
"Were you scared?" She was always so blunt.
Grimmjow stayed silent, pressing his chin back to his knees, covering it with his arms. They were both without words for a minute or two, watching this lie of a life continue on. He knew what she meant. He didn't want to admit it. Not ever. Not in a million yea---
"Yeah…I was,"
(Because death is the great equalizer. We all secretly fear it. Especially if we know it's going to hurt.)
"Therapy, you were never a friend to me, and you can choke on your misery,"
This life is about death.
Killing.
Hurting.
Getting what we want. (What Aizen wants)
This life is about watching comrades fall.
Die.
Turn to ash.
Leave.
Grimmjow took another step forward, unable to see clearly what was in front of him. He could see a blue or orange and a blur of the 'fake' sun. 'Damn it…'
"I'm not…going to lose…to someone like you,"
He was going to lose. He knew it. He knew it so well…
"I'm not going to lose…to someone like you,"
He was going to die. He was going to leave her alone…
And she watched from the sidelines, giving him exactly what he asked for:
His pride.
(As an espada, pride crushed love over all.)
"Ichigo, please…don't kill him," Kitty let her fingers shake. She let herself speak up, let him hear her plea. Ichigo was her friend. He used to be…
This life, being an espada, is about death.
Even if the person you love is the one in death's hands.
This life is about accepting the simple fact that nothing is fair.
(But don't take it personally)
So, was it good? Bad? Horrible? Because frankly my dear, I don't give a damn. For me. Cuz I'm awesome.