So...for those of you waiting for me to update ATR: I'm sorry. I really am. I know this isn't a valid excuse, but school has been hectic since my last updates. IB=not so much fun for writers. Anyways, this is both an experiment and an apology! There's some other short stuff I wrote this weekend, so please forgive me!
And I'm bringing my ATR notebook to school again. The second piece is almost finished, so it'll be out (hopefully) soon.
"Human, soul reaper, or arrancar…THEY'RE ALL THE SAME!! Anyone who looks down on me will be CRUSHED!!"
He hated those eyes. The eyes were everywhere, always looking down on him. That hollow glow, a reaper's steely gaze, a human light…all were watching him, wherever he went…mocking him.
When he was an adjucha, they'd all mock him for his small stature…until they fell to the ground, a bite taken out of their smirking faces.
Never before had he met anyone that regarded him not as something below them, not as something above them, but as something purely equal to him.
This girl who say next to him…she was unique. Her power shifted with no internal thought, no self-will…
It all depended on the nature of who she was with when she woke up. An evil aura, like Gin, had been shown to send her into a bloodthirsty, berserker's frenzy; a good one and she'd just lay there, content to watch them wander around. Someone like Wonderweiss was a complete mystery because his shepherd never brought him here.
When she opened her eyes around him, she neither pulled at her iron manacles, scratching the air in vain attempts to massacre whatever was in reach, nor smiled warmly at him. All she did was sit there, playing with her shredded clothes, tears falling down her face. Sometimes, if he felt he was in the mood to, she'd let her head rest on his shoulder, her brown hair mixing with his blue and her tears running into the cloth.
They were almost truly equal—trapped against their will in a never ending cycle of violence and forced civility—except he had more freedom than her.
For the first time in his several thousand years of unlife, Grimmjow Jeagerjauques felt two things.
The first was pity for someone less powerful, less able to live than he.
The other was a half-assed friendship.
"Grimm…jow…please don't."
He looked at her teary human eye; the hollow's hidden beneath an overgrown set of bangs. That damn eye…looking up at him…telling him what to do like he was some insignificant bug.
He pushed her away.
He got up, leaving her lying on the ground, gazing at him.
He left the room without even a backwards glance.
He closed the door.
He cried in the darkness as he leaned against wall.
"Goodbye, onna."
"I am…I AM THE KING!!"