It was a nice clear breezy spring morning, as a young man with tousle raven black hair inwardly recalls the route to his local university.
His pale fingers nimbly adjust the gear to make it easier to cruise down the flat surface while he inwardly thinks, 'I should get there with 15 minutes to spare.'
He repeatedly pushes his black bicycle pedals to propel him forward when the sound of his stomach begins to "growl" at him.
'I knew I should grab that extra slice of bread.' The raven haired male was considering while silently grumbling to himself for not grabbing the toast.
His green eyes eventually spotted a small bakery on the corner, which was surprisingly opened for business at this time in morning.
There was a young woman with long blue hair presently in front of the store, who appears to place an order with one of the workers.
The raven haired male simply glides the bike on to the side of the store, dismounts, and leans it against the long glass window display.
"How much for one slice of bread?" The young man enquiringly inquiries to the baker as he searches for his wallet in his back pocket.
"Is your name Grimmjow Jaegarjaques?" A voice loudly interrupts the baker, who was about to answer his question.
The woman simply ignored the question, which seemed to greatly irritate the burly man that stood off to her left.
His green eyes then cast over to see an older man with a black object, which resembles a gun, points it at the woman's temple.
"That's not a wise decision." The blue haired woman calmly states while her eyes closely study the texture of the bread and quietly notes the different prices for the baked goods
"Try me." The man irately threatens her as he deliberately jabs the gun further against her head as she proceeds to place her.
She merely closely her eyes, deeply sighs and coolly suggests, "Sir, it would be in your best interest to put the gun down and we can handle this calmly."
The sight of a black car slowly motors along the street, creeps to a halt, rolls down the driver's side windows, and proceeds to fire off shots at the bakery.
"What in the world?" The raven haired male astonishingly quips at the sudden sound of gunshots loudly ring in his ears.
"Get down!" He unexpectedly feels a body roughly collides against his chest and forces him down to the ground to avoid the gun fight.
'What's going on?' The young man mentally wondered since all he really wanted was to buy him some breakfast before the start of his class.
"My lady, are you alright?" A tall slender stick of a male nervously questions once he approaches the front of the bakery.
"Not really, I was caught up in the melee Shawlong." The blue haired woman replies once she hears one of her guards' voices after the shootout.
"You're bleeding?" A short silver haired male piercingly yells at the sight of the red liquid that streams down her right arm.
"Well duh, Di Roy! As if I didn't feel like I was being stabbed by a hot poker iron." The woman frustratingly grumbles at the male, while she tightly grabs her appendage.
"We need to take you to the hospital right now." A muscular man with a half shaven head and a burgundy Mohawk promptly inquires if the woman is unharmed.
"Now that's the last place I want to go. I already have a tab with them. Edrad, can't you do a simple patch up?" The blue haired woman pleaded to the man with one of her hands in the prayer position.
"We don't know if the bullet has cleanly exited or lodged in your arm." A slightly tall young man with long blonde hair and red eyes attempt to examine the wound.
"No touchy, Yylfordt." She speedily smacks his hand away from her arm so he would not pass on any infections.
"Besides, we don't have an X-Ray machine at the house." A large fat male with a brunette bowl cut style stands in a hunch position with his hands cross on his back reminds her.
"Fine, Nakeem, I'll go to the stupid hospital then." Grimmjow was ultimately conceding due to their annoying nagging and sensing that there was no other escape route.
"What about him?" Shawlong then points a slender finger at the raven haired male that presently lies out against the concrete sidewalk.
Her eyes closely examine his clothes, which earns a smile on her face, while she then notices the rather placid expression that was on his face.
'He doesn't look fazed at all.' The young woman shockingly determines about the young man right before she departs with the strange men.
"Are you alright young man?" The baker nervously poses to the young man, who slowly rises to his feet.
He did not offer any verbal response instead he dusts himself off and physically nods his head up and down. The raven haired male eventually ambles over to his dark green bike only to notice that his rear tire was now flat.
"I know it's not much but…it's on the house." The baker unexpectedly mentions with a brown paper bag that was currently in his hand.
His green eyes briefly peer over at the bike, which catches the baker's attention, "I can lock it up in my shop until you come back."
He suspiciously lifts an eyebrow at the man in front of him, before he enquiringly questions, "Why would you go through such great lengths for a stranger?"
The baker softly chuckles at the young man's standoffish reaction to his kindness, "After we managed to survive a shootout together, I think it's the least I can help with. What's your name?"
"Cifer, Ulquiorra," The raven haired male eventually revealed his birth name to the older man simply because he asked him for it.
"It's nice to meet you Cifer-san, my name is Kisuke," The baker merely introduces himself by his first name.
"Oh and one more thing…if you have a cellphone, I can contact you once the repairs have been made." He promptly adds as he points to the bike in the corner of his shop.
"Thanks," Ulquiorra politely thanks the man after they exchange contact information.
0000
'I don't want to be in this hell hole.' Grimmjow inwardly grumbles as she arrives inside of the Emergency room much to her dismay.
A doctor eventually checks in on her and asks her routine questions about her health and physical condition, which she answers in short responses of "yes" or "no".
'I'm perfectly healthy…except for this damn bullet in my arm.' She mentally wants to yell at the man, who begins to gently prod at her sore arm.
"Phone, princess," One of her guards suddenly announces as he leans over to hand her, her cellphone, when she notices that her father was on the line.
"Yes?" The blue haired woman begrudgingly questions before she was on the end of loud screams, "Why were you in a shootout?! What did I tell you about doing shady business without permission?! What if that bullet was a fatal shot?!"
Grimmjow annoyingly holds the phone as far away from her ear since her dad practically yells at the top of his lungs when he currently converses with her.
"Can we talk about this later? I'm about to get some sutras in my arm." She calmly suggests, however it lands on deaf ears as her father begins to yell at her even more.
The blue haired woman simply presses the mute button and returns her mobile device back to one of her guards.
Her mind then suddenly wonders back to the raven haired male with dark green eyes that at the bakery earlier along with her. 'That dude was kinda of cute.'
A smirk was simply materializing on her face until she was wincing at the feel of the alcohol gently pressing against her skin while they were removing the bullet from within her arm.
The blue haired woman was roughly biting down on her lip while they were stitching sutras over the open hole and rebinding the open flesh together.
'Damn, that shit really hurts!' Grimmjow angrily deems as she slowly attempts to raise her arm only to feel excoriating pain course throughout her body.
The doctor then provides her a prescription for the pain, sends her to Billing, and wishes her well on her recovery.
0000
Ulquiorra finally arrived to his Art class: Composition for the Artist, twenty minutes late due to the fact he had to walk and his bike was out of commissioned.
The professor had sarcastically greeted him by "Late, Mr. Cifer" upon his arrival but he merely ignored the man's comment and located his seat in the lecture hall.
The raven haired male quietly removes his 5-Subject Notebook, a pencil and hooks one headphone in his ear as a slight distraction from the lecture at hand.
His green eyes then watches his professor scribbles some words in cursive on the board before he proceeds to jot down some notes under the title: Design Principles
"As I said earlier before we were so rudely interrupted by our latecomer," The professor purposely reminds the class of Ulquiorra tardiness to his class after he removes himself from in front of the board.
"The four cardinal principles are Emphasis, Harmony, Unity and Opposition." He proclaims while he holds up four fingers to his students before he wags his index finger while he explains, "Now I know some of you English minors are like Harmony and Unity are synonymously but this is Art and Art is chaotic...in both a good and bad sense."
"Emphasis or let's rephrase it as "Center of Interest". It's about dominance and influence." The professor introduces the first principle while he circles "Center of Interest" with the white piece of chalk in his other hand.
"Most artists deliberately put it a bit off center and balance it with some minor themes to maintain our interest." He physically places his hands on the side of one of his eyes to emphasis the idea of center.
"On the other hand, some artists avoid emphasis all together but they do it on purpose. They want all parts of the work to be equally interesting."
'Just like the color of that woman's hair…a powdery light blue color that greatly resembles cloud wisps or the foam from a wave?' Ulquiorra inwardly deems that as the "Center of Interest".
"Now with music, complementary layers and/or effects can be joined to produce more attractive whole. That is what we artists call Harmony." The professor summarizes up Harmony as his students make a note of it in their books.
"It leaves the composition in a complex state, but everything appears to easily fit with everything else. The whole is better than the sum of its parts. When nothing distracts you from the whole, you have achieved unity." The professor confidently asserts with a circular wave of the chalk within his hand.
"You want to add variation or else it would be uninteresting." He then waves off with an expression of "blah" present on his face before he continues, "Unity coupled with diversity tends to offer more in art and in life."
"Of course some very minimalistic art can be both extremely calming and even evocative. A simple landscape can render a rather powerful effect on the viewer." He instructs them while he physically extends his arms out wide as a gesture to mimic a landscape.
The professor then points the chalk at the students when he discloses, "Then there is a case where artists may use contrasting visual concepts to convey a concept. So imagine a bright blue "big sky" landscape and now envision a storm that builds nearby."
"Principles can grow from any artistic device used to produce an effect on the viewer. This is known as Opposition."
'Like how a normal sunny morning trip to school suddenly turns into a potentially deadly shootout? How's that for some opposition?' The raven haired male colorlessly mentions after he repeatedly taps his eraser against the body of his notebook.
He aimlessly listens to the assignment that the professor issues to them before he promptly dismisses them form the lecture hall.
'The man said her name was Grimmjow…Grimmjow Jaegarjaques, I wonder who she is?'
0000
"Grimmy," A feminine voice cordially greets her upon her arrival in the grassy courtyard, which she respectfully retorts with, "Mother,"
"I'm so glad that you're alright. I was so nervous when I heard that you were nearly shot by some thug." She genuinely conveys her concern for her daughter as she tightly embraces the young woman.
A "hiss" emits from Grimmjow before she painfully asserts between her teeth, "That's my bad arm, mom!"
"I'm so sorry dear. Did they give you any medicine to take?" Her mother was quickly offering an apology for agitating her arm and creating some distance between the two.
The blue haired girl slowly digs inside of her pants pocket for her prescription when she explains, "A shit load of painkillers. Here,"
"Grimmjow," A deep masculine voice calls out to the young lady, which earns her icy blue gaze at the male she identifies as her father, who stands on the raise wooden platform.
'Ugh…just great,' She instantly deems from his unreadable expression on his face and his stiff body language that she was in some serious trouble.
"What's this that I hear that you were involved in a shootout at a bakery this morning?" He deliberately needles about the incident that took place earlier this morning.
"Technically, I wasn't involved because you ban me from carrying my katana or a gun so I was a victim." Grimmjow easily offers up an explanation to her role in the part.
He physically lifts a brow at his daughter when he sternly alleges, "As if I would believe that, especially since some of our funds have recently been tapped."
"What can I say? I attempted to try my hand at being a loanshark. You know...get my feet wet for the future." She nonchalantly downplays with a slow shrug of her shrugs.
"And instead you were almost buried six feet under, what am I going to do with you?" Her father sternly reprimands her about her careless actions.
The young girl merely rolls her eyes before she provides clarification on the issue, "He owed me a good bit of change but it wasn't like I applied any pressure for him on a repayment plan."
"Apparently, he felt some type of burden to pull a gun on you while you were at a bakery." He immediately proclaims while he unfolds his arms to challenge, "And I thought you had class, this morning?"
"Yeah, but that was null and void since Edrad insisted that I go to the hospital. I got an excuse though." Grimmjow provides a response as she points a thumb in the direction of where her guards stand.
Her frustratingly releases a deep sigh, pinches the bridge of his nose, and verbalizes, "Speaking of the future, your mother and I would like to discuss something extremely important with you."
"I don't like the tone or where this conversation is heading." The young woman wearily utters to herself as she mentally braces for the announcement from her dad after she notices her mom radiantly beams a smile her way.
"We've decided that it is high time for you to find a suitor to become your potential husband." Her father eventually discloses as her mother happily clasps her hands together.
"What the hell?!"
