Summary: You never know what dirty tricks one can pull during battle. Grimmjow is about to find out exactly what kind of tricks he can pull with the help of his opponents psychology. That is, of course, if he doesn't destroy his own first.
Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo
CH 1: The Sky
The darkness truly was bliss. No beings could harm you in any way, shape or form. The darkness was not biased, accepting anyone that was either willing or forced into its embrace. It held a eerie air about it, but the solitude compensated exceedingly well. However, all good things had to come to an end and his eyes slowly opened their way into the bright light.
The sudden change in environment startled him at first, but he adjusted rather quickly by turning away. It hurt to look into the light. He knew this very well and so tried to slip back into unconsciousness. Or was it? For all he knew, he could have just been closing his eyes and drifting off in thought. But even in this state of grogginess, he knew he would have at least thoroughly examined his surroundings before going off into Dreamland.
At his angle, most of what he could see was the large, expanding sky. It was clear blue, fluffy white clouds passing by once in a while. But the more he looked at them, the more it didn't seem right. He tilted his head to the side, trying to think. Then it suddenly dawned on him; the clouds were going down the sky, not across. He blinked, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in direction. Perhaps he was at an odd direction? But then again, the mad rush of blood to his head seemed rather normal. After all, the large gash across the side of his head didn't stop bleeding. He tried to pick up a hand to touch the spot in question, but his body seemed paralyzed and wouldn't allow him. Growing frustrated, he tried to think of something else other than his sudden paralysis and resumed his thoughts on the clouds. Maybe he was delusional and simply imagined the clouds and the sky in this odd shift. So far, everything was new to him; he didn't even know why he was waking up in the first place. Did he lose consciousness from an accident? No, he wasn't that clumsy. Maybe someone attacked him? He furrowed his brow, trying to extended his memory. Sadly, his thoughts were interrupted when a face appeared in front of him, hollow eyes staring into his own. The other opened its mouth, the first words he had heard in a long while.
"What are you doing here?"
It was a simple question he could not bring himself to answer. All he was able to do was stare up at that face, his mind racing. Nothing was right; this place wasn't supposed to exist. He wasn't supposed to be there, yet he lay on the cool hard building, eagle spread on his back. The light breeze caressed his skin, causing him to shiver, though his body refused to move further. The eyes above him continued to stare, waiting for a response. He inwardly frowned. He was the Sexta Espada damnit, he would answer to nobody except Aizen-sama.
The man crouching above him however, did not understand this fact. Their focus was on his face, trying to decipher his purpose. He inwardly snorted. He wasn't aware of any purpose he had to fulfill. He only knew to kill and serve. He was a toy to a Godly man, doing the most ridiculous of tasks in order to live another day. Even now as he thought about it, he felt there was a limit reached. He couldn't fight forever. He didn't have the psychology to continue shedding blood where it was never needed. Despite what Aizen-sama and the other Espada told him, he felt that a part of him was still human.
Well, most of the time anyway.
He sighed, closing his eyes softly. He had to think about his situation and find a way to walk away in one piece. He retraced his steps, trying to remember every detail of what happened the previous 30 minutes.
I was fighting him...
His mind raced back to the desert. The one known as Hueco Mundo. He could see it for miles from his angle, the sand dunes giving it a sort of beauty. Many were carelessly demolished however, from their shared hatred of one another.
He gave me that look...
He recalled the blade, slicing into his tough skin, the blood pouring out. He remembered the pain, but refused to show any. He needed to prove he was the better fighter and pressed on, his heart pounding in his chest. The Shinigami held a defensive front that proved weak after so much fighting. He too had begun to feel the effects of the attacks, but his pride would never let him admit it; not out loud.
Pantera...
He remembered the sudden pause. The moment where both were took weak to press on any further. He had forgotten how long the stand off was because he had been too preoccupied with his diminishing release form. Pantera, after fighting for so long, had finally given in and was returning to a state of quarantine once more. He tried to hold on to it as long as he could, but it had reached its breaking point. He was then left defenseless, clouded and in pain. Pantera had absorbed most of the cuts and bruises, but he had to bear the rest of the consequences. So he stood, a broken Espada.
He tried to press his memories further, but the man above him had become impatient. With another quick jab to the forehead, the man asked his question again.
"I said, what are you doin' here?" He locked eyes with the man, trying to find something. Coming up with nothing, he simply lay there, trying to remember how to work his voice. He soon became frustrated when his tries became fruitless.
Why did he have to try so hard? He couldn't remember the last time he tried something because he was always able to do something. Trying was not part of his self written code and therefore should have to never been done.
But what about now? Now he was somewhere alien, on his back and most of his senses were just barely recovering from the sudden shock. The strange man was not making the situation any better, another jab with a slender finger irritating the Espada further.
"Hello? Are you deaf or what? What are you doin' here?" He blinked, finally taking in the question. He knew the answer from the start, but could not find the words to tell the strange man. His drive to find answers however, became reason enough to force himself to answer the long awaiting question.
"I don't know."