It happened before he even realized it.
Grimmjow was seated as calmly as he could possibly manage in the middle of some god forsaken building in the Soul Society. He was irritated, enraged, and extremely nervous as a few beads of sweat slid down his face. Hands clenched tightly in his lap, he kept his gaze glued to the floor to keep from viciously lashing out at the first person he made eye contact with.
Join the Soul Society, he said. They'll love you there, he said. Grimmjow was going to personally skin Urahara when he got his hands on the clog-wearing man. Not only did he keep him from his desired rematch with Kurosaki, he shoved him into this impossible and extremely stressful situation he was under now.
Hueco Mundo didn't need him anyways, Urahara insisted. What, with Halibell sticking around, they'll hardly notice you're gone!
How many strings exactly did Urahara have to pull to get him here? In the middle of the Soul Society? With people he most certainly tried very hard and deliberately to KILL? So many questions flew through the Espada's mind, only making him twitch more and more in frustration. He clenched his hands to the point of near bleeding. How long had he been sitting there? Minutes? Hours? It seemed like a freakin' eternity.
The door in front of him rattled slightly as it slid open, revealing some minor Soul Reaper in their annoying black shihakusho. The Espada tried to keep himself firmly planted on the ground and stare at the wall behind the Soul Reaper as he spoke. If he caused a ruckus now, they'd certainly take no hesitation in violently kicking him out.
"I have received word from the 1st Captain of the Court Guard Squad about the anonymous request for your admission to the Soul Society…" He began to rant on, reading off some piece of parchment. Yeah, yeah, Grimmjow growled in the back of his mind, intensely glaring at the wall.
"Get it over with all ready," He spat out venomously, accidentally thinking aloud.
Some godly force was driving this odd decision because even though he was extremely rude and eccentric about the whole situation, Grimmjow still had been accepted to the 13 Court Guard Squads. It was a freakin' miracle.
Or at least it would be if Grimmjow had actually been happy to join the disgusting Soul Reapers. The more this dragged out the more it felt like Urahara was standing right next to Grimmjow, forcing him into this awful servitude he had now been accepted into.
Obviously there were some catches though. The Soul Society couldn't just let a former enemy AND Espada just waltz his way on into their ranks with no struggle and make himself all cozy. The first thing they did immediately after accepting the anonymous tip and him into the society was drag him all the way to one of their thirteen Captains. He had only been there for a span of at least fifteen minutes before they were shoving him on a slab and some freaky guy they called their 12th Captain was looming over him.
"Interesting, interesting~" He hissed joyously over the Espada, making him cringe in discomfort, "To think- An Espada throwing away bitter feelings to join his most common enemy! I wonder what stimuli could have prompted this." He continued to squawk and squabble over other pointless things and he skittered about the room.
The Soul Reaper that had given Grimmjow the news of his acceptance and some other Soul Reaper girl lingered on the edge of the room, trying to steer clear of the strange, bustling Captain. He was loud and bossy, but when he loomed over Grimmjow he quietly murmured to himself about how he wanted to experiment on the man, and that he had destroyed the last one before he could.
Grimmjow began to feel even more uncomfortable as the murmuring continued to go on into detail, identifying which Espada he killed and what exactly he wanted to do to Grimmjow. The teal haired man felt sick and disgusted and fought every fiber in his body to keep from punching the man as he poked and prodded at his body. He had a feeling that if the other two Soul Reapers weren't standing on the other side of the room that the Captain might've actually indulged in some of his desires on the Espada sprawled out on the table.
Twenty more minutes and Grimmjow trying to keep from barfing and tearing someone in two; it was decided that he would wear restraints. Not the kind that would actually restrain him physically, but the kind that bite back his spiritual energy. A.K.A make him just about as strong as a puny little Soul Reaper that didn't even know how to use a Zanpakuto. The restraints took form of very tight, almost circulation cutting bracelets and as soon as they were slipped on Grimmjow's spiritual pressure dropped drastically. He almost couldn't stand for a few moments at the sudden lack of energy.
But, forced to his feet, the 12th Captain told him every week, if he was good, they would pull back a little bit on how much of his spiritual energy was cut. Eventually, if he was a good boy, he would be back and running with his full power like normal. By the tone of the Captain's voice he sounded really sarcastic as though he heavily doubted that Grimmjow could accomplish such a feat. That tone changed as Grimmjow was dragged off before he could recover and the Captain waved and said in a much too excited voice, "See you in a week~"
Grimmjow was now woozy and had a hard time concentrating. He was now shoved into another room that looked almost exactly like the one he had waited in prior to the whole Captain situation. He was allowed to sit and he clutched his head, silently spitting every curse he knew at the wretched bracelets sapping his power away. Another Soul Reaper, different from the one that had currently been tagging along with him, began to practically interrogate the Espada. He asked a wide variety of different questions about his sword and his skill set and what he was best suited at.
Tons of questions were being thrown at him every moment there was to pause; it was hard for Grimmjow to keep up. He tried to answer to the best of his ability, now trying to keep from fainting instead of trying to keep himself from killing people. He felt sick and felt a migraine coming on as a voice screamed in the back of his head that this was the worst fucking idea he could have ever let himself be forced into. Then again, he didn't have anywhere else to go or do. Hueco Mundo was a drag without Aizen… That's why he even remotely allowed this to happen… Even though so far all it's done was make him a total wreck or rage and sickness.
The questions continued on for another fifteen minutes. When the Soul Reaper was finished he kindly thanked Grimmjow for his time and got up. He walked off, writing some things down on a scrap of paper. Barely even five seconds went by before the first Soul Reaper had tugged him to his feet and dragged him off again without another word.
Thankfully, the Espada was now being dragged to his new sleeping quarters for the day. Mind you, it wasn't that late. In fact it was the middle of the afternoon, but Grimmjow had never been so happy to see a bedroom before in his life. The Soul Reaper rambled on about some more mildly important, but very uninteresting things. The only thing Grimmjow got out of the whole speech before the Soul reaper left was: This was his room and tomorrow someone would come by and bring him to the division he was sorted into.
When the Soul Reaper left he closed the door behind him and left the Espada in peace. The room was mostly bare. It had the door the Soul Reaper just exited out of, another pair of doors that were open to reveal a closet space, a window, and a sleeping matt with one pillow and a blanket in the middle of the floor. Grimmjow wobbled his was over to the matt and instantly collapsed on top of it. He let out a loud groan as his sore body slowly relaxed despite the bed not being very comfortable.
He was going to make sure to pay Urahara back for this. He was going to make that man feel pain sixty times worse then what he was feeling now. But at this moment, despite not necessarily needing to, Grimmjow slowly closed his eyes. After arriving to the Soul Society only a mere fifty minutes ago, Grimmjow fell into a sleep like state that he would have never allowed himself to do in Hueco Mundo.