(A/N:) So… this is a story. It's a chapter story ^-^ It's just very short because it's the beginning. Yes. :D

Pairing: Eventual UlquiGrimm, with some side pairings

Chapter Rating: K - T

Warning: AU,a little drabble, and Ulqui's out of character. Plus, it's really short. Because it's a prologue.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.


Life is hard enough being a teenager.

Scratch that. Life is hard enough growing up. There's that time period between gaining consciousness of your actions and becoming a self-sustaining adult that is probably as arduous as taking a walk through hell. The transition between elementary school and a high school graduate is this rough plane scattered with millions of landmines all threatening to burst with a single step.

Enough with the metaphors. I suppose now you understand how difficult the life of a teenager is. The emotional trauma, the physical pains… No one tells you how to grow up. Teachers tell you what to learn, parents tell you what they expect from you – straight A's, a perfect marriage, and grandchildren by the age of thirty – and then you're left alone to figure out how to put it together.

According to scientists, books, and my previous sex ed teachers, it's natural for kids to be emotional and angsty during this period of transition. Tears, rage, and self-pity are expected. Irrationality, irritation, mood swings – all that good stuff. All of these are expected out of pre-teens, tweens, and the dreaded teenagers.

Well you know what? There must be something wrong with me.

"ULQUIORRA! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!"

Apparently, most kids between the ages of thirteen to nineteen have rough relationships even with the sweetest of parents. It was natural for said kids to shout and scream and complain about the most trivial things, like what cereal mom bought for breakfast. Or perhaps what dad "unintentionally" did to disrupt an almost romantic moment.

If teenagers don't have a natural outlet, then they have a larger chance of growing up with severe emotional trauma, they always say.

There must seriously be something wrong with me.

Mom's mad, green facial mask and pink bathrobe aside. "Ulquiorra, what the hell do you think you're doing?" She yells, her wooden spoon dripping with pancake batter.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," I reply, my tone straight and even. I'm not in the least daunted about her angry expression.

"Damn right you don't," she says haughtily. "You're going to be late for school! I didn't work my ass off just so you could be late on the first day."

"It's a public school," I remind her. "Besides, I'm not going to be late. The school is five minutes away," I explain calmly.

She gave a hmmph! in acknowledgement and went back to frying pancakes. I could hear her muttering about how stupid teenagers never have any respect for their parents. You know, she should really be more grateful. According to those documentaries that portray teens like wild animals, I should have yelled back at her and threatened to run away and never come back. Or kill myself.

But there was nothing. It was normal for her to be mad all the time.

I grab my coat and my backpack, preparing to make my way to school. It was the first day of high school, you know. As a freshman. If I was normal, I'd probably be nervous. Scared shitless to be exact. Biting my fingernails, stressing about the wrinkle in my coat, or worrying about the fact that I would be walking onto the campus alone.

But my problem? I wasn't nervous. I felt the exact same emotions I would have felt on any other given day.

Which happened to be nothing. Nada. Zip.

Everyone said it was natural for teenagers to feel angry all the time. It was natural to cry excessively and feel like the world turned against you. It was natural for teenagers to talk back, act sassy, curse, eat everything, and shout for no reason.

You know, there must be really be something wrong with me. As far as I'm concerned, there seems to be this gaping void in my life that leaves me without any sort of feeling.

I've never felt compelled to yell, cry, or eat excessively.

In fact, I've never really felt anything at all.