Summary: Grimmjow hates Ulquiorra. Grimmjow hates Ulquoirra so much that he can't even see what's right in front of his eyes. He is blinded so much by the need to become more powerful that he can't even see what it really means. Drabble. Rated for strong language.
Disclaimer: I don't, nor have I ever, owned Bleach.
I'm nothing more than fucking trash to you, am I?
Of course not. I'm only number six, while you're number four.
To you, I'm useless. You defeat the enemies that I couldn't.
It's only natural for you to have a superiority-complex.
But that doesn't mean I like it. And that doesn't mean I'm going to accept it.
That doesn't mean I'm going to fucking sit back and let all of this happen.
I'm not going to be the sixth Espada much longer, I fucking swear it.
I'm not going to be trash for much longer. Remember that.
Soon, I will be more powerful than you.
I will become the first or second or third, just so that I can be more powerful than you.
I fucking hate you. You know that, right? You know how much I despise you?
No, probably not.
I'm probably nothing more than a tiny fucking dot on your radar, not even anything worth paying any extra attention to.
But I'll show you. I'll show you how powerful I am.
I'll show you how powerful I can become.
I'll show you every-fucking-thing I'd do to get you to see me in a different light.