The Sandbox

I watched as a little boy stood proudly in front of a pile of sand. I could see a couple rocks and sticks jutting out, seemingly at random. Apparently, the boy was excited about its completion, standing and grinning.

He was a strange looking kid, with blue eyes, and blue-er hair. He came to this playground every week, and always alone, though he only looked about six years old.

I looked down my thin, short body at my slightly loose jeans, held up by a hand-me-down belt, my loose black sneakers and my slightly tight white turtleneck shirt. The color didn't do much for my pale skin, but it was one of the few possessions I had. I was an eleven-year-old, thin, short, pale, sarcastic, unwanted, foster brat.

I wondered briefly if maybe he was in the same situation I was… No. I shoved the thought away. That grin wasn't the sardonic smile of a foster child, constantly jumping from house to house, from family to family.

He probably had a mommy at home, cooking up a nice meal as he played. His dad might be getting home from work soon, and he might have a big brother hiding somewhere, watching over him…

I tried to stop these thoughts; they were making me feel really sad.

Instead, I tuned back into the scene before me. I watched as two teenagers entered the park. One was really tall, with long black hair and an eye patch covering his left eye, smiling widely. The other was a little shorter and looked like he had bubble gum stuck in all his hair, but as I looked, I realized that his hair was actually pink. He wore glasses and a big smirk.

They looked about seventeen or eighteen. They looked like trouble. Especially for the blissfully ignorant blue-haired kid. I stood up slowly as they walked towards the sandbox, chuckling as the kid finally noticed them and looked up, smile faltering.

I was barely close enough to hear their conversation.

The kid piped up first. "Who are you guys?"

He kept a fierce face, but I could see the fear in his eyes from where I stood. So could the teens.

The taller one chuckled. "Oh, we're jus' a couple Seniors… My name is Nnoitra, Nnoitra Jiruga." His voice was slick, and I could hear a vicious undertone, though I doubted the kid caught it.

The pink haired man entered the conversations smoothly, voice a deceivingly warm baritone. "And I am Szayel Aporro Grantz."

I saw that the kid was smart, eyes filled with distrust. Nnoitra grabbed the kid by the collar and pulled him up to eye level. "'t's rude ta ask someone's name then not give yer's, kid."

The kid grasped The brunette's hand, squirming. "Grimmjow!" He spit out, "Grimmjow Jaegerjaques!"

Satisfied with the answer, the tall man dropped Grimmjow into the sand. "Pretty nice name, Jaegerjaques. Doesn't suit ya." He noticed the little sand creation at his feet and smirked, looking between it and the kid. Szayel noticed and smiled wickedly.

"Very nice creation. But do you know how it would look better?" He asked in an innocent tone.

"…How?" The teal-haired boy looked up at him from his seat on the ground.

"Scattered across your face." He laughed as Nnoitra kicked the sand up into Grimmjow's face, getting it in his eyes and mouth before he could close them.

As the first tears rolled down, my body jerked into action without my mind's consent. Before I knew what happened, I was standing in front of Grimmjow, Nnoitra thrown to the ground from a swift kick to the back of the knees, and Szayel hunched over from a hard punch to the gut.

The brunette glared and got up angrily as the pink-haired teen grabbed me by my ebony hair.

"Who th' fuck're you, Mister Hero?!" The taller one hissed, and I cringed when Szayel tightened his hand.

"Ulquiorra Schiffer." I spit in his face before struggling in the shorter teen's grasp, only earning a rough tug on my hair.

My squirming stopped completely when I was hit with a strong uppercut to my left-side jaw. My head jerked painfully in the four-eyed teen's grip before he moved me into a strong headlock, lifting me off the ground.

I managed a glance at Grimmjow, who was still sitting in the sand, cheeks streaked with tears and blotchy. He looked at me with big blue eyes, and I shouted roughly.

"Run, Grimmjow!" The kid's eyes got impossibly wider as Nnoitra glanced at him but decided he was worthless, focusing instead on me as I elbowed Szayel hard enough for him to cringe and drop me to the ground. I crouched for a second as Nnoitra reached down for me, before lunging up and tackling him to the ground.

I heard his head crack loudly against the concrete side of the sandbox. I looked up at his face, horrified when I saw red spreading fast behind his head, staining the concrete and dripping into the beige sand. My emerald eyes widened when they met the lifeless black orbs staring back, shocked.

I scrambled back off of him, back until I hit something solid, which just happened to be Szayel's legs.

I tilted my head up to look at him, but his eyes were still trained on the corpse, his gloved hands shaking. Soon the rest of him started shaking, until I moved and he collapsed forward, crawling to the brunette's body.

"N-Nnoitra…? C-C'mon man, wake u-up!!! Stop playing…!" His smooth voice was now cracking, panicked.

I didn't care to watch him as I turned and spotted Grimmjow, frozen on the spot.

"G-Grimmjow…" I whispered as I crawled over to him and covered his eyes, noticing my hands were shaking badly.

Keeping one hand over his eyes, I picked him up and stood up, willing my legs to stay strong as I walked away, soon turning to a run, then a panicked sprint as The pink-haired teen's grief-stricken voice rang out.

"NNOITRA!!!!" Before long they were out of earshot from Szayel's wails and sobs.

When I stopped about a half-mile away, I was panting harshly and collapsed under a tree, still cradling the blue-haired boy. I finally took my shaking hand away from his eyes, which were clenched tightly shut as he clung to me.

"…Grimmjow? Are you okay?" I asked in what I hoped was a warm, tender tone. Hell, I had never comforted anyone in my life… It worked though, he looked up at me, eyes teary and bloodshot from the original irritation of the sand.

"W-who are you…?" He asked, looking almost fearful.

"My name is Ulquiorra…" I trailed off.

"U-Ulqui?" He asked. I just nodded, knowing my name was long and complicated. "What did you d-do to that man?"

I forcefully bit back to truth, opting for something gentler. "I… was helping you, and he got tired of fighting, so he laid down for a nap…" Grimmjow seemed to take that as a reasonable answer.

"Ulqui?" I nodded. "C-Can I come home w-with you?"

I was surprised. "Don't you have a family?"

He shook his head sadly 'No'.

"Well, I don't have a family either, but there's a place we can go where they'll give us one… Do you wanna come with me?" I explained and asked gently. He nodded. "Okay. From now on, I'm gonna be your big brother. I won't let anybody hurt you, okay?"

Grimmjow nodded again. "Thank you, Ulqui…" He cuddled into my neck and fell asleep quickly as I held him.

"You're welcome, Grimm…"