He hates those eyes.
Grimmjow hates them with everything he has. The way they glare, haughtily, with such hope, no matter how hard or fast he beat the kid up, no matter how many punches or wounds he inflicts. Those eyes would not stop mocking him.
I'm superior to you, they say to him. Beat me down, and I will rise again.
Grimmjow screams and flings Ichigo across the plane, watching him hurtle into a stone pillar. Dust gathers all around them. Blood wets Grimmjow's front and side, dripping from his electric blue hair, now longer with his Resurrection. His tails flicks back and forth, back and forth.
Behind them, the woman screams. Her tears disgust him.
He raises both clawed hands and releases Rending Claw. He stands, like a prideful cat, and smirks down at his opponent. Ichigo screams nonsense about his friends, his nakama, and it fills Grimmjow with black, sticky hate. They fight again.
Grimmjow tries his hardest. He tries harder than he's ever done anything before. He pushes himself until he breaks.
He's cut down anyway.
I'm superior to you, those eyes say. I will defeat you, no matter the cost.
Grimmjow hates those eyes.