My first story, hope you enjoy. Rated M for what may be future activities. Yaoi, maybe future smut. Don't like, don't read.
Dark clouds rolled in the sky, and loud thunder crashed around a grassy field. It was dark and the trees surrounding the green plain creaked and groaned as they were tossed about from piercing winds. Cold, wet water fell in sheets from the blanket of clouds, drenching the young toddler in flurries of chilly water. The grass was tall, muddy and difficult to maneuver in. The icy mud smeared into his clothing, permanently staining the white fabric. He was cold, of course, but he didn't have the opportunity to feel the chill from the harsh winds, water, or mud. He was running, as fast as his small legs could take him. His azure hair was plastered onto his face and neck. He was panting, hard. Everything on him hurt. His previously white hospital gown was grabbing onto every root, rock, and bead of mud that it had the reach to catch
He was tired and cold, but he fought these emotions with his determination and wariness. He had to run; he needed to get away from them. They wanted him to go against all of his morals. They wanted him to commit horrible sins only because they thought they had the ability to take advantage of him. They tried to trick him into thinking that what they did was for the good of the country, but he saw right through their charade.
He was being chased, and he could barely tell where they were because of his senses being dulled from the circumstances he was in. Loud breathing, wet rain, dark skies, and numbed limbs kept him from noticing any immediate danger.
There were three guards, equally spaced out behind him. They were armed with sedatives and capture devices. They didn't want to nor had the ability to kill him. Although he was a mere toddler; he would grow into something that the government could absolutely not lose hold of.
But he was determined to release himself from them; to get away from their wrath. He knew that it would inevitably be a difficult task, but he knew he did not want his life to be only a tortured existence.
He pumped his legs harder and harder, even while they were plagued with fatigue. His stained gown snagged on a particularly large protruding branch and he fell into another muddy puddle among the grass ahead of him. His face covered with muck as he picked himself up using small, thin arms. He would never give up; even if he failed this time, he would flee from their clutches repetitively until he would gain his freedom.
The enemies stopped their attempt at being rouges as the toddler's impossibly blue eyes spotted a helicopter rising out from the trees far off behind him. The light shone harshly against the grass in the dark night and covered over the blue-haired toddler.
"I guess I need to take this to drastic measures," he said under his breath. The light shined off of his hair and what little white there was on his gown, making his appearance obvious to his pursuers, but he had a trick up his sleeve.
He quickly went into action and bent over into a crouch. He focused intensely, finding exactly what he was looking for. A roaring appeared in the back of his head and a familiar primal mood raged through his senses. It was sudden, only because it was needed under the circumstances. He forced the change quickly.
He closed his eyes and grunted as it began. Pain seared through his joints. His bones hitched and cracked and his blood roared in his ears. His skin tingled and itched as dark, ultramarine fur began to grow evenly across wet, golden skin. His bones in all places grew, elongated, and shifted to new places His face changed from strong and angular to fierce and feline as his nose shifted onto an elongated muzzle that was quickly covered with the same shade of fur. His body reconstructed painfully into a panther cub's graceful form Bright, cyan eyes opened to reveal their now ellipse-like shape. Now fully shifted, he hid under the grasses.
He was now fully disguised underneath the tall grasses with his small form, and the light above him lost his location and disappeared from his vision. He was almost away, almost free from their clutches. His newly refreshed hope fueled his legs into pushing harder; he went faster and headed for the lights miles away past a few hills. The light meant safety, security, and everything that was away from them. Away from the government. Away from his sadist captors. To a new life.
•••
The clouds were brighter, but still moved quickly across the sky, now fully refreshed from emptying all of their rain. The sun began to shine through cracks between the clouds, creating heavenly rays that reached the ground. A slight breeze navigated through the streets of Karakura. Everything still seemed gray from the still-departing clouds and a light layer of water covered the town.
Nnoitra walked with his mother, Neliel tu Odelshwanck, down an uncrowned street. He was only three years old, but he was already unnaturally tall for his age. His deep purple eyes scanned the streets with a childish curiosity. He held his mother's hand and walked with her casually down the street towards the bus stop so that they could ride it to home. They weren't poor, but his mother didn't like to overspend and saved as much money as she could.
They were walking by some apartment complexes. Although they didn't need to go by the apartments, Nnoitra's father, Kenpachi Zaraki, insisted that they get some exercise.
As they walked along the sidewalk they noticed a box on the side of the street. It was soaked from the previous rain and stood out against the light gray coloring of the sidewalk. Nnoitra immediately grew interested with the box and pulled his mother along with him to quench his curiosity.
As they approached, they noticed a hobo lying in the corner created by the stairs to an apartment complex and the sidewalk. He was soaking wet and smelled of soggy garbage and a scintilla of old fish. He had a scraggly beard and dark glasses, but the rest of him looked more like a pile of dirty rags mixed with garbage. In front of him, between what he assumed was the man's feet, was the dark, soggy box that they saw.
Inside of the box were a few wet kittens, also holding a strong smell due to the precipitation. There were three soaked kittens.
Two of the kittens were light brown on top and white on their underbellies. They played with each other roughly; the larger one leaning over the smaller while the smaller nipped on the other's almost translucent ear.
Nnoitra did find them cute, but what caught his attention was the third kitten. It was slightly bigger than the other two and was staring at him. It didn't seem to care about the other two, but that wasn't what was so surprising about it. It was blue, and the most unusual kitten Nnoitra had ever seen. Its fur was darkened to an ultramarine color and was dirtier than the other two. Pieces of grass, mud, and water dripped off from its unnatural fur color its cyan eyes held a deep flame of writhing emotions that didn't seem possible in the eyes of an animal. It seemed to have an almost human sense of knowledge hiding within its eye's depths.
Nnoitra turned to face his mother, his eyes flashing with an eagerness to learn about this creature. "Mum, ca' I have kitty?" young Nnoitra begged in the only way a toddler could.
Neliel turned her head away from the hobo and ceased their walking. She looked Nnoitra in the eye and saw his honest need for the kitten that was very noticeable amongst the other two. She debated whether or not it would be a reasonable choice and finally nodded in defeat. She found no reason to not buy a pet; if it was too much trouble then they could just pay someone to do it, not that they wouldn't try every other cheaper solution first.
So she got the unusual kitten for him, and they immediately cleaned and fed it. They put it in a new kitten bed they bought and it seemed quite happy. They cared for it like people would regularly care for a cat, until the next morning's surprise.
•••
They cleaned me, fed me, and gave me a bed, and now they won't stop screaming, thought the blue haired toddler when he woke up in the morning. He didn't understand why they were freaking out, because nobody had ever reacted to him changing form like that.
During the night, he changed back to his human form, but he didn't expect the family's reaction to finding a baby in the kitten bed the next morning to be so frenzied.
He thought changing to be a normal, natural thing to him. It obviously wasn't normal to these people. When the sea-green haired woman screamed the entire house awake at the sight of him; he awoke very surprised and moody. He'd been glaring at them the entire morning since he woke up wondering what their problem was. They have been staring at him, puzzled, for about fifteen minutes now.
"Ya know, he looks kinda like da cat," Nnoitra stated. That was what the family had been confused about. His eyes and hair reflected the kitten's traits and they couldn't tell what had happened.
"I agree with you Nnoi-chan, he definitely looks like that kitten. I wonder what happened. Excuse me, but what is your name?" Neliel spoke. She craned her head to the side as she asked the question.
"Grimmjow, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. I'm a werepanther," the blue haired toddler spoke casually.
The others in the room gawked at him, their mouths agape at what he had said like it was a normal topic. The others didn't believe him, but they soon realized that it might be the only explanation.
The family later realized that he was being honest, and kept him as part of their family while keeping his secret.
•••
Fifteen years later, Grimmjow and Nnoitra were seventeen years old and in high school. Grimmjow was raised mostly as a kitten until he was five because it was easier and less expensive, but he hasn't been allowed to–for his own safety–change into his cat form or anything in between for many years.
Nnoitra shared his room with Grimmjow because their house had limited housing for people. (Their house was decently large, but the room was used more for other purposes.) Their terms for sharing the room were that Nnoitra got first dibs on everything except for Grimmjow's bed. Grimmjow outgrew his kitty bed within a year and instead of sleeping with Nnoitra on his queen bed, Grimmjow actually preferred to sleep on the floor next to the bed. That was his property in the late hours.
At school they were deep friends but separated more by the start of high school, but are still close at home. Today, Nnoitra decided to try out something that his friends recommended to him.
"C'mon, don't be a wuss, Nnoi-kun, it's just a little taste of it. It really isn't dangerous," one of Nnoitra's best friends, Ikkaku, teased.
"I ain't a wuss and you know that, Baldy," Nnoitra snapped, now glaring at Ikkaku as he grabbed the rolled up piece of paper and lit it. He stared at it, secretly nervous, and then bravely pressed it to his lips. He took a drag and felt something strange take over him. His mind fuzzed up and his worries went down the drain. "Actually, dat ain't half bad," he said, mind fuzzed as he lay back into a very relaxed position.
He knew he shouldn't be doing this, drugs are bad right? But then again, who decides what is good or bad, wrong or right? He pushed the thoughts out of his mind as his brain swam in a joyful pool of unknowingness. The last thing being remembered was the knock at the door.
•••
Grimmjow, meanwhile, was just getting out of class with one of his friends, Renji. Although they weren't very close, they knew each others' names and got along with each other. They also happened to be in the same last period classes every day this semester. So they had some time to chat while they walked to the parking lot at the other end of the school.
"I think you should meet my friends, I mean, we're on friendly terms and stuff, right?" the redhead mentioned out of the blue. That was not something Grimmjow was expecting. He didn't have any care to meet any of his friends; he thought they would even stop being friends at the end of the semester or year. He didn't know how to respond to that.
"Sure pineapple, I could get to know a new group. Where do you guys hang out?" Grimmjow responded reluctantly. Renji pointed to a spot under a tree and nodded, showing the placement of their hang out. "Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow." Grimmjow nodded and turned to more of the direction of his car and left the redhead to his own mind.
Grimmjow was not only a student, he had a harsh job. It was the only thing on his mind at the moment because usually he would go there at that time, but luckily, he had a break from it today.
He actually enjoyed his job; it was supposed to be a job at a local store, the Urahara Shop, and it was as far as his family knew. They didn't know, couldn't know what he truly did as a living, because it would break their hearts and would force them to send Grimmjow to jail. He couldn't go to jail, because he would easily get caught by the government that he's been hiding from for so long.
He would go to his house today, and do homework, pretending to be normal. Or, at least, that was what he thought would happen.
•••
The sun rode low but was unnoticed as it was covered by afternoon clouds. The cirrus clouds dotted the sky, a particularly large one blanketed over the sun while many of the others caught the light, which made a bright, horizontal chandelier of harsh light in the sky's sunward direction. The rest of the sky was covered mostly, with spots of dark, cerulean hue.
The apartment complexes were dulled by the low amount of light reaching them, a harsh line of light on a corner of each from the side of the sky with sunlight. Two people were arguing in the shadow of a garage door of one of the more expensive complexes. Yelling could be heard echoing down the street.
"Get out, get out!" Matsumoto screamed as she threw her purse around at her paid entertainment. "You're hair is so strange, it can't be normal! How can I trust that you don't have any STDs or an ulterior motive when you call that your natural hair color!" She hit him on his right cheek with the bag and something heavy within the purse knocked him to the floor. His face stung and he knew it would bruise given time. His eyes were still defiant as he struggled with his pain sensors, resisting tears and putting his hands up to his face.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. I did tell you the truth. Why are you overreacting? I didn't..." he rambled on, trying to tame the wild, purse-flinging blonde. He backed away from her as her swings began to cover a wider width. They began to get to the edge of the sidewalk, allowing no more room for him to escape.
•••
Grimmjow rode on his Brandeis blue cock rocket down the long road. There was only moderate traffic so he weaved through cars easily, obviously going past the speed limit. He loved the air that flew past him and fluttered his blue mane. The feeling of exhilaration as his black riding jacked flustered about behind him, occasionally batting at his sides. He was happy, he loved to break the rules. A wicked grin split his handsome features as he rode down faster than any of the other cars.
He barely stopped at a red light at an intersection–he still has his rules–and turned his head towards a car on his left. The car was a black 2011 Mustang. He knew that one of those cars couldn't resist a challenge. He revved his motorcycle, calling for a small race, and pointed to a sign that said CONSTRUCTION ZONE 1000 FEET, signaling the end of their race. The other driver, barely visible behind tinted windows, nodded in understanding Grimmjow turned forward, his body positioned to easily accelerate when the light changed to green.
Time seemed to slow as the light changed. Grimmjow bent over slightly and shot forward, his instincts showing him everything that was happening around him even when it seemed like a blur to normal humans. His feline senses shot up and helped him accurately plan his future locations as he went. The wind blew harshly on him, almost blocking all sound from entering his ears under the roaring. He was in front of the Mustang easily, and was to the right of the street. The Mustang began to go faster, loud engine roaring with the effort. Grimmjow sped up, he was almost too fast to stay on the ground if he hit a pebble. At least these roads were surprisingly well paved.
Then, out of the corner of his eye he spotted a small splotch of orange, moving quickly. At first, he didn't think anything of it, but when he got close to it, it lurched out in front of Grimmjow. His eyes went wide, his instincts peaked and he turned. He braked as hard as he could as the orange spot in the road got close enough to show him a person with orange hair flying out into the street. Both of the man's feet did not have the chance to touch the floor yet and his eyes did not get the opportunity to view the oncoming danger.
Grimmjow got too close, and realized that he needed to do more lest he was going to hit the boy. His adrenaline pumped and his wheels screeched like sirens as he dug his heel into the ground behind his front tire. He successfully slowed down slightly as he pushed even harder and loosened his grip on the motorcycle. The front of the cock rocket tipped upwards drastically and the entire vehicle became almost vertical. The front tire flew over the boy's head just barely as Grimmjow slid off his ride to the ground in behind orange haired male and he dragged his back into the gravel for a few hellish seconds before he turned and rolled, his arms held protectively in front of his face. He rammed harshly into the wall of the side of a concrete staircase after rolling for an abundance of time.
He lay there, back to the concrete, wind blowing lightly. His eyes were closed and he panted harshly, his elbows rested on top of each other on the ground. The rest of his arms were resting in random positions. He felt like he was intact, but he couldn't quite tell just yet. Crap, he thought.
•••
The only thing that Ichigo could figure out from what was happening was that he was hit very painfully in the stomach from Matsumoto's purse and he tripped over the side of the sidewalk. In the side of his view were a light and the loud noise of a motorcycle engine and the passing of a larger vehicle with another loud engine. He didn't know how the motorcycle's sounds had ended up on the other side of him, but his adrenaline was easily activated at the thought of him being in the road near a car.
He fell–not so gently–onto the well paved gravel. His suit like coat felt wet for some reason, so he assumed it was rain. But then his senses caught him, there hadn't been rain for all of today, what could be making his coat this wet?
He turned his head cautiously, eyes bugging out of his head as he propped himself up on his elbows. He didn't know what to think. He saw the previous motorcycle turning and dragging on the pavement a many metres in front of him. He needed to find the rider; he was the one in danger.
He looked down, his eyes following a fresh trail of blood until it stopped. He continued to look in that direction to where the trail would've been. His brown eyes locked on a man laying on the edge of an apartment staircase. The man looked to be bracing himself against something. But he was now panting and trying to calm himself down. He noticed the man's strange hair color and noted that he might be alike to himself because of it.
Deep, cerulean eyes slowly opened to survey the area. As Ichigo ran over to him he couldn't help but notice the bluenette's golden skin and sharp features. Even in this bad situation the man looked almost completely unfazed. He sat on his knees by the man and surveyed his body for injuries. As he did he thought, undamaged, stylish shoes, check, long, lithe legs, check, hottest ass he's ever seen in loose jeans, check, slightly revealed washboard abs, check, semi-tight, white T-shirt under an incredibly cool rider's jacket, check, youthful, sun-kissed skin over incredibly handsome features, check, impossibly blue eyes glaring at my gawking expression, che- oh wait.
His eyes snapped away from Grimmjow's form in no particular direction. His expression changed to one of surprise and he scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
He heard the man grunt as he began to rise. Ichigo immediately went to his side to help him up only to have his hands rudely batted out of the way. He stood, no help at all and walked, back straight and eyes focused, to his motorcycle. Surprisingly, it looked as if it had only gotten scratched. Ichigo noticed that the bluenette was not wearing a helmet of any kind and had blood beginning to drip and absorb into the back of his jeans. Ichigo didn't understand what brought the bluenette to react like this, would it be considered a hit and run? But he didn't even really hit him...
Ichigo was snapped from his thoughts when the blue haired man hopped onto his ride and began to rev the engine. "O-Oi! Matte Kuda-!" he called out (Hey! Wait!) but his words were cut off as the man turned around, eyes fiery with emotion when suddenly...
•••
Grimmjow opened his eyes after the crash slowly, preparing to get his bearings, when he saw that kid, the one that made him crash in the first place, staring at his body, mouth agape. He had no idea what that meant–was he hurt or something?–and decided to do what came naturally, and glared at the orange haired boy.
The boy continued to eye rape him slowly up his body and settled onto his eyes. The boy was shocked to see him, obviously because he thought Grimmjow wasn't awake yet. The strange boy averted his eyes and scratched his head, as if pretending that he didn't just rape him with his eyes.
Grimmjow began to get up, and saw the boy reach out to pick him up. He did NOT like to get help doing something he could've done earlier without help. He was only standing up, he didn't need this idiot's help. So he brought his arm up and swatted away both of the hands. He didn't need this, strange looks coming from everybody around. He decided that he only had one choice of what he could do, get away. He stood up to his full height and pridefully headed towards his vehicle. He hopped onto his motorcycle and revved his engine, prepared to leave and avoid the people's strange gazes and the boy's honey brown eyes. He heard the boy say "Oi! Matte kuda-" and he turned around to face him. The boy was shocked still when he turned around. He wondered what was wrong with the kid for a moment before something shocked his system. Recoil from the hit to the stairs finally got to him due to his adrenaline lowering suddenly.
His eyes opened slightly from surprise and pain as his helixed body fell to the sidewalk. His last memory was blurry as his vision swam around with the boy's orange hair. Orange swirls flooded his vision, and everything went dark
Grimmjow groaned and rolled over in bed. He felt strange, as if he wasn't where he was supposed to be. He realized what the problem was. He was in a bed, and he only slept on the floor, next to Nnoitra's bed. He was incredibly tired, for some unknown reason, but realized that he needed to get back to the more comfortable floor. And so he decided, after much debating, to open his eyes.
He discovered that he had absolutely no idea where he was. There was a white hospital bed, on him another–cursed–hospital gown, and a tank with a–wait for it–fish inside. His mother never got his family pet fish for a particular reason, and he was just about to do what he did to three fish about fourteen years ago.
He hopped off the bed, not caring about the many things that clattered to the floor that were once attached to him and sauntered over to the fish tank. He was getting exited; he hadn't done this in a while.
