And it's one-shot number two! Enjoy folks~
His neon blue eye fluttered open, only to find endless stretches of dessert, I fuckin' hate sand… he thought to himself, realizing he was still lying in a pool of his own blood, Nnoitra having blind-sided him. Imma make that spoon-head regret the day he ever became an Arrancar for that one… but he was in no state to do anything at that moment, he was a mess and felt like utter shit after all.
His clothes were ruined, ripped to shreds, what little material was left of his Arrancar jacket was hanging off his broad shoulders, his hakama was ripped in several places, in complete tatters. His neon blue hair had fallen out of its spiked style, hanging all over the place and getting in his eyes, more so than usual anyway.
Around him there was nothing but sand and rubble, reminders of his clash with orange-haired-punk-kid; Kurosaki Ichigo. Reminders of his failure. Che, damn kid left me alive… and he saved my ass. Fuck, he wanted to bang his head of something at that moment. Great! Now I fuckin' owe that little shit…
He let out a low sigh, staring up at the fake sky, which was in fact the Las Noches dome ceiling. He was too exhausted to move, not surprising since he felt like shit. Right, game plan; I get the fuck outta here and get healed. Then I find the kid and repay the favour and save his ass before I beat the shit outta him. It's fool proof! He smirked at his own plan, but realised something, Do I really have the patience to pull all that crap off? Na…
"You look like shit." If he'd been one to laugh, he might have laughed at that. It sure was a honestly blunt greeting. But as it were, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez couldn't find it in himself to do anything other than snort in disgust. He was in no mood for conversation. Regardless of who with.
"Fuck off, Shark-sama, I'm thinking," Grimmjow fired back, he knew who it was without even looking.
"And yet we're all still here, strange…" the Tercera Espada chuckled, looming over the motionless form of Grimmjow, despite being a good seven inches shorter than him. In response to her comment, Grimmjow's eyes snapped open once more.
"You deaf or somethin'?" Grimmjow snarled, looking up at the women above him, her arms were crossed beneath her large breasts, pale emerald eyes fixed on him. "I told you too fuck off, women!" He bellowed up at her, he didn't need her pity or her help; weren't they both the same thing in the end? After all, he was Grimmjow, the Sexta Espada, he didn't need anyone or anything damn it!
"Do you really want to try and back up your words in your current state?" Grimmjow made to snap back at her, but his mouth just hung open, locked in place. Ah fuck… he finally managed to close his mouth, scowling when he realised she had a point. Even in my release state at full strength she'd still kick my ass from here to the Seireitei. She wasn't a Vasto Lorde nothin'.
"I thought not." Harribel stated from behind the high collar of her modified Arrancar jacket, moving away from Grimmjow's body to lean against a near by piece of destroyed rock. She watched on, with a slight hint of interest, as Grimmjow struggled to get himself into a sitting position.
They both ignored the sounds of battle from not to far off. The only female Espada crocked an eyebrow in slight amusement as she watched the Sexta Espada take long, laboured breaths. Clearly he was in worse shape that he would care to admit. Thanks to Nnoitra, no doubt.
After a while Grimmjow leered at her, clearly annoyed that she hadn't left yet. "What the fuck you still doin' here?" He demanded of her, his neon blue eyes glaring at her placid, pale green ones. In response, Harribel merely shrugged, she didn't honestly know nor did she care, it was better than sitting around waiting to head to Karakura anyway. "Don't give me that bullshit!"
"Your should really learn to control that temper of your's, Grimmjow," Harribel observed in a serious manner, gesturing around her for emphasis. "One day it will get you into even bigger trouble than today. Then what?"
"I don't need to control my anger, Shark-sama!" Grimmjow spat, literally at her feet, voice laced with irritation. "I just need people to stop pissin' me the fuck off, is all!"
Silence.
She just stared at him. Smirking behind her high collar, unknown to Grimmjow, as she watched his brow begin to twitch in annoyance. It was fun to wind him up, her quiet and level headed nature contrasted greatly with his overly loud and cocky attitude, it made for some interesting entertainment, at least for Harribel. With a slight shake of her head, she began a mental countdown, tapping a finger off her arm with each passing second.
"Ah for fuck sake, women, say somethin'!"
"Why?" Grimmjow did a double take, Is she being fuckin' serious here? What kind of question is that; why? "Why do you always need to be doing something, Grimmjow? Why must you always look for something to distract you; why must you always be fighting?"
"It's fun! Why the fuck else?" What a fuckin' retarded question… but a voice in the back of his head disagreed with him; who are you trying to convince here; you or her? It would ask him, and usually he would ignore it, like he did all the other voices; the screams, the pleas for mercy from his time as a Hollow or even the images, the images of a life he didn't recognise, of a time when people had thought he had been a good man.
"Don't lie to me." Had any of the Espada known what an ordinary sense of humour was suppose to be, the look on Grimmjow's face would have provided a good laugh for everyone. 'Don't lie to me' she says, what the fuck does she know? "I can tell by your body language, Grimmjow, every time I see you when you aren't fighting, when you aren't doing something to distract yourself, you get shifty, you mutter to yourself. I've heard you scream in your sleep a few times, even. You remember, don't you?"
… Apparently a lot, Grimmjow scowled. What fucking right did she have to be watching him, he wasn't her Fraccíon, he didn't need a babysitter! I don't need anyone. Keep telling yourself that, the voice chimed, louder than ever in the back of his mind. It was driving him insane.
"What do you care, Harribel?" He sneered at her, trying to drag himself upright and walk away.
"Because I remember too,"
"Then why aren't you out there fightin'?" Grimmjow roared at her, glaring with all his might. "It's the only fuckin' way to stop those damn voices, otherwise they never shut the hell up! The power keeps 'em quiet, it helps me strive forward because it means I don't have to worry about those fuckin' flashes, those people who I know I should know, but I don't! I need the power to strive forward!"
"There are other ways to keep the voices quite, but maybe you shouldn't be ignoring them," Harribel murmured, thinking of the own things she saw in her dreams, the voices in her head. There was a blond haired man holding her, at least, she thought it was her, smiling for all he was worth, gazing down at her with love filled steel grey eyes. She liked to think of the man as her father, that he had cared for her; loved her. Then there was the dark skinned women; her mother, at least she thought she was, smiling just as happily, feeding her, kissing her on the head, choosing her name; Tia.
"Those memories are part of you, Grimmjow, accept them for what they are," she continued shaking herself out of her thoughts, pushing off the rock. It was almost time. "Maybe if you can remember the good times in those memories and try to recreate them, maybe that will keep them quite. Because it shows that the person they belong to is still in there."
"Wow…" Grimmjow whistled, looking at her with a slight smirk. "I don't think I've ever heard you talk so much in the space of a few minutes. It must be a personal record for you." Harribel merely rolled her eyes, trust Grimmjow to ignore her, now of all times.
"Fine," Harribel shrugged, making to walk off, if Grimmjow wasn't going to take this seriously, then why should she even bother? It wasn't like they were friends or anything; comrades in cause yes, but not friends.
They were too different for that, at total opposite ends of the scale. But that was what allowed her to put up with him, he brought a different edge to her life, a new level to it even. One she'd never bothered to explore, the outgoing and impulsive side that could actually amuse her. Her, the Shark Empresses, amused by the some mere panther and his antics, the whole thing in itself was totally laughable.
"Hey, Tia," Grimmjow called out after her, stunning her. Never before had she heard Grimmjow call her by her given name, she'd always been; Three or Shark-Sama, maybe even Harribel if he was in one of his better moods. But never Tia. "What if I don't like the guy in the flashes, the guy the voices keep telling me I should be?"
"That's something you can't help, Grimmjow," she called back, tone placid and even, just like always. "Because at some point, whether it's now, or in a hundred years from now, that's who you'll end up being. It's the only way to get the voices to truly to stop."
"Right…" Grimmjow's tone was sardonic, but his face anything but. "Hey, Shark-sama, do me a favour will you?" There was that damn nickname again, but it didn't have the usual topping of sarcasm, it was said with something else instead. Something the Trecera Espada didn't recognise. In response, Harribel merely looked over her shoulder at the weaker Arrancar, waiting for him to continue. "Make sure not to die in Karakura; you're not half bad… for a shark, anyway."
Tia Harribel merely nodded, disappearing in a burst of Sonído. Leaving Grimmjow along with the voices in his head, and for the first time in a long time, he actually tried to listen to what they had to say to him. Almost as if he was enjoying their company.
Interpret as you wish, I guess you can see it as a slight shippy one-shot, which being a GrimmHarribel fan is what I myself had in mind when I wrote this, but if you'd rather think of it as a mere friendship thing, that works just as well I guess, it's up to you see how you want.
Little shout out Ability King KK, who brought the idea of these two as a couple to my attention and made me think about how interesting their interaction could be, this one-shot is for you dude.
But just so we're clear, Grimmjow only reckons he owes Ichigo because the latter saved his life, which I guess comes from the fact that Grimmjow considered he owed Orihime one after she restored his arm. That's all. He just reckons he's in debt to our orange haired hero, nothing more.
Other than that, nothing to say, just keep an eye for the next one and until then, Dobby-san bids you all farewell~!