If a life could be measured in heart beats, one for every moment of joy and every aching second of sorrow then she could have considered her life over. But as she contemplated the gray asphalt below and people no bigger than tiny ants, her mind wavered once.
Once.
He wouldn't have wanted her life to be given away so easily.
Her eyes closed and her navy skirt swirled in the cool air whooshing past her bare legs and extended arms on the narrow back of the Griffin jutting from the side of Kurosaki Enterprises. Of which the chairman's son…her fiancé…was dead.
Dead at Twenty-four, his life taken by a drunk driver on a calm Saturday night, one that he'd been leaving the office late…hurrying to go home to her. Isshin had broken the news to her over the phone; he was at the hospital waiting while his only son was rushed into emergency surgery.
Remembering those bleak, hopeless hours in the austere open-area corner, the hard impersonal stares given to her by the attending nurses even as they asked, "and who are you?" as Ichigo breathed his last. His father was there while the white-coats kept strict watch with only family being permitted inside.
Her mind replayed these things and her violet eyes closed as strains of misery permeated her being. Slowly she slid one foot forward on the cold gunmetal gray stone, her toes digging in the grooves then she took a solid step forward. And another. And another till she was at the very edge of the Griffin's head.
She took a deep breath in and threw herself from the statue…
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The window casing creaked open with a giant yawn, two large hands braced themselves on the peeling painted wood of the sill and sniffed the air. The man lowered his head of short teal locks and growled, showing his disgust of the foul, filthy humans polluting the atmosphere. Another glance told him exactly what he wanted to know.
It was sundown already.
He crawled out onto the ledge, adroitly aiming a swift kick to the higher counterpane, falling as it did so effectively hiding his lair. The man then stood up, his balance perfect on the narrow white board, his flat chiseled abs peeking out from the open black-collared jacket he wore. His feet swung back and forth, gaining momentum then he jumped, sparing not a single move as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop.
His senses tingled and he skidded to a stop, probing this source more thoroughly. Ahead. That was what he thought. He crossed another row of buildings of various heights, his teal eyes scanning the distance until they alighted upon a girl—woman actually. Taking a few steps forward and then pitching herself from the darkening head of a Griffin statue.
The last rays of light skittered, illuminating her tiny form falling fast, instinctively he ran. His feet left the rooftop, his body tucked into a roll, tumbling through the air like an acrobat. He gauged the distance between them and aimed his upper torso toward her. Heavily he latched onto her, with one arm secured around her tiny waist, the other catching a handhold onto the glass sheeted building façade; her body went limp.
A small head of raven hair lolled and Grimmjow Jeagerjaques sighed. All he'd wanted was a single Goddamn snack and in the end he'd saved a girl from suicide. Was that anyway for any self-respecting Vampire to start his day?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
AN: I do not own Bleach. Again let's just see how it turns out, shall we? Please review.