A/N: Chapter 2 of LTG Uncut…non-canon as always, some OOC as well….
Warnings: More foul/racist language, some blood and violence
Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own anything that is copyrighted. The views in this fic are not necessarily my own.
Damn Yankees
Timeline: Post-Liberalization (right after Chapter 2 of LTG), except the next day is February 13, not Valentine's Day
"Revenge is a dish best served cold"
Welcome to the house of pain, Just Blaze niggaz
Theres no way out, it seems I can't get free
Somebody tell me what's happenin to me
The country bud got me chokin
I'm on a mission to the point motherfuckers think I'm smokin
Yea that sick nigga Biggie wit the H-shot fifth
Wit the extra clip for that extra shit
Don't you know that killin is thrillin
All the blood spillin, is all a part of drug dealin
A born gangsta my daddy was a thug
Had a .38 wit the hallow point slug
So when he lit shots
Niggaz dropped quicker than bootlegger sells his liquor
A little nigga tried to squeeze .22's in my Reebok shoes
Payin dues, while kids was on their one's and two's
Now I'm much older, colder, fuck a holster
Got the Mac .1s swingin from my shoulder
It's a damn shame I got to put my momma through this strain
I'm livin in a house of pain
Is anybody listenin and tell me can you can see this darkness surroundin me
Now it's gettin colder heavy on my shoulder and it's gettin hard to breathe
And it's gettin blury, I'm gettin worried cause it's gettin hard to see
When you're living in the house of paaaiiinnn
The motherfuckin dust kicker, who can you trust?
Do you have the heart to see a nigga?
Before you bust, my name is spoken on the tongue so many foes
Bustin motherfuckers out the blocks and I ain't even go
Now how the hell do you explain my claim to fame
From doin fix to bustin tricks out the fuckin frame
Got these bitches on my jock niggaz on my block
Jealous ass suckers got it duckin for my smokin glock
And bustin niggaz ass is to stay alive
Skinny ass playa watchin bigger motherfuckers fry
They ask me how I'm livin? how I'm a hustler?
Buckin busters 'til they die
Now it's on in the ghetto you ain't heard?
Niggaz got they AK's headin for the bird
Aimin at them skinhead bitches let it rain
Givin 'em, a wet welcome to the house of pain
MJB, be worried niggaz, yea, Nas...
Wendy Williams say I stayed dust maybe I should
cuz these rappers'll have your phone tap like Savion Glove
And on the West yo police corrupt, some are bloods
But these Teflons I loaded explodin some mugs
I'm like Furious in "Boyz In the Hood"
But at the drive through I'm ain't runnin I'm dumpin
Crazy like a piru and load up, know how Nas do
I'm callin Henchmen to save shit, to organize a black truth
And we party hard party wit Nas
Since they ain't no more - Mardi Gras
And Bush won't apologize
I got gangsta hoes Kobe Bryant scared to sodomize
And .45's for them suckers y'all idolize
Ya'll yellin my name but y'all soon dy-in
Tryin to portray real but they be ly-in
Cuz they want the real niggaz to die so they can gain
But neva that, this ain't eva lastin this is the house of pain
"Grimmjaw…"
The man in question had his iPod on full blast, listening to Biggie Smalls' "Living in Pain." After he did not hear the first time Aizen called his name, the brown-haired teen put a hand on his shoulder from behind. Grimmjaw almost immediately spun around, looking to punch whoever was bothering him at this moment; he was heading for his Diablo and was thinking of going for a nice long drive.
"WHAT THE F- oh, Aizen," Jack realized whom he was talking to. Turning the volume down on his iPod, he asked in a calmer voice, "what do ya need?"
"Gin and I were wondering if you would like to shoot some hoops with us."
If it had been anybody else, he probably would have rejected the offer. However, he wanted to see this mysterious man while he was playing a sport…he had yet to see a flustered look appear on Aizen's face. Inwardly smirking, he gave his answer.
"Sure thing, I'll see ya at the gym in thirty minutes."
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Hanatarou did not understand why everyone hated bowling. It was an intense sport, which it WAS, not a game as many people called it. It required intense concentration, required an exertion of extreme physical force, and created legends out of men.
This did not bother him as much as being constantly teased by Soul Society. He heard nasty things said about him, such as "Onnada" and "shoujotarou." It seemed everyone was questioning his masculinity. One painful incident stuck out in his mind.
Yamada was just walking back from school and heading into his hybrid; he had hoped it would win him some cool points with everyone but all it did was make him look like a premature liberal.
Looking down at the ground, kicking a pebble or two while he was walking, Yamada failed to notice the larger man in front of him stopping, and thus bumped into the guy.
"Woah, what the-" Ganju turned around and saw the lowly Hanatarou mumbling "Gomen" under his breath but refusing to look in his face.
"Oi! Hanatarou look at me when you speak!" Shiba roared. When Yamada refused to respond, he hurled a fist to punch him, only to be stopped.
Looking up at who stopped his arm, Ganju's eyes widened in a mixture of shock and fear.
"Shiba…you bastard." Ganju gulped; what did he do to infuriate Zaraki?
"Don't hit girls."
"BWAHAHAHAHAHA!" They both roared w ith laughter, purposely rubbing shoulders with Hanatarou, who fell over from the impulse.
Sighing, Yamada thought out loud, "why don't I ever stand up for myself?"
"Stop talkin' to yourself, Onnada." The two were evidently within earshot, and laughed after Zaraki's snide remark.
Heading over to his car, Hanatarou saw Rukia's 2009 Acura next to his own car. Feeling honored that the great Kuchiki would park next to him. He had always had dreams of being Rukia's one and only, but she seemed to push him to the side like the popular girl she was. Why would she settle for a nice, timid kid like Hanatarou when she could have a big bad boy like Ichigo? This negative thought ate away at Yamada every waking moment of his life. However, he would not stop showing her courtesy; it was in his nature to act submissive to everyone, even those who stomped on him.
On the whole, no one really paid attention to him. Not even the tough guys took a second look at him; he was the ultimate
invisible man, it seemed. In eighth grade, Keigo actually dared him to ask Grimmjaw to sign his yearbook. Legend has it that Jack took one bored look at Hanatarou, actually spent twenty seconds writing something, and then walked away. As Mizuiro and Keigo looked over his shoulder to read the note, they saw:
Onnada,
Don't talk to me.
Jack G.
"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA" the other two roared with laughter while leaving a grimacing Yamada to wallow in his misery.
That was all 100 percent true.
Unfortunately for the boy with chin length ebony hair, he had spotted a GPS in Rukia's ride. As if he were electrostatically attracted to it, Hanatarou scuffled to the driver's side of the car, his hands and face pressed against the window examining the model. For some reason, he was obsessed with cars with GPS's…probably ever since he had made another mistake with Grimmjaw.
4 years ago
Hanatarou accidentally bumped into someone he would rather die than have to talk to. Gulping and looking into the venomous eyes, he said, "G-g-g-gomen N-n-n-nasai, Gr-grimmjaw-san." This was just after school and had been walking with his head down for no apparent reason other than to avoid being noticed.
Before Jack could spit out any profanities, another voice interrupted them.
"Looks like ya can't even handle that chump, Grimmjaw!" Zaraki Kenpachi had arrived, his unkempt hair hiding his smirk. This was a time before he donned the bells, put him dangerously close to looking like a haza.
"Che, he's nothin' Ken," Jack spat out. Everyone knew that Zaraki hated the Americanized version of his given name.
"Shut the fuck up, Jack. Least I don't have anythin' to do with those fuckin' fatass SUVs," Zaraki snarled.
Hanatarou, afraid of getting caught in the crossfire of another fight between two rivals, piped up.
"H-hey that's wrong! In fact, if you don't have an SUV you must be poor!" Grimmjaw cracked up when he heard this.
"See how tough ya are? You got bitched by fuckin' SHOUJOTAROU of all people!" he was laughing so hard that people were turning their heads in his direction. It was quite a sight, actually: Hanatarou stuck in "no man's land," that is, any area between the two uncouth youths, one of which was doubled over in laughter.
Just as Zaraki was about to grab Hanatarou's shirt, a recomposed Grimmjaw swatted his hand away.
"Let 'im go, he's had his fifteen seconds of fame, ne?"
Sighing in reluctant defeat, the raven-haired giant answered, "Fine…next time that onna says anything I'll wipe the floor with his bitch ass," Hanatarou heard as he was leaving, gulping with fear.
"Oi! Hanatarou, what are you doing?" Said boy's eyes froze as he was snapped out of his flashback and brought back to reality faster than you could say 'lehberal.'
It was the voice of the goddess he had only heard in his dreams…Rukia Kuchiki.
Facing Rukia with a sheepish grin while scratching the back of his head with his right hand, he replied.
"I was just admiring your car, Rukia-san."
Rukia's eyes narrowed dangerously as she furiously kicked Hantarou in the shin before grabbing his shirt and turning her head up to his ear.
"Never call me 'Rukia'" she dangerously hissed. "You're not deserving of the honor."
Scared for his life and afraid of getting whooped and made fun of the next day for letting a girl beat him up (granted it was Rukia, but still…), he silently answered, "S-sorry, Kuchiki-sama," unintentionally sending shivers down her spine.
Truthfully, Rukia would love nothing more than for Ichigo to call her that, because if Hanatarou could evoke such a reaction, she shuddered with joy at the thought of the strawberry saying the same thing. but he never called anyone by their last name, nor did he add the honorific at the end. Ideally, she wanted him to call her "Rukia-sama" so that he would completely submit to her will. She was close, but his male pride…and Aizen's presence, no doubt…had prevented him from doing so.
Right now, Rukia Kuchiki wanted to go to the mall and meet up with her best friend Yoruichi over there. In her way was the boy whose masculinity often came under question.
Letting go of him, she haughtily opened her door, seated herself, and started her car up. She made a mental note to go for a car wash after Onnada's face had defiled her window.
"Later, flower boy," she said in that sickeningly sweet voice before pulling out of her parking spot and driving off the school campus, leaving a once-dejected Hanatarou in awe.
"Kuchiki-sama…touched me!" eyes wide with joy, he jumped into his car and sped off to the nearest McDonald's to honor such an occasion.
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Parking in the lot in front of Karakura 1 Sports Club, Grimmjaw exited his Diablo before entering the gym.
"Name?" The clerk asked him.
"Grimmjaw JaguarJack," he nonchalantly replied. After receiving clearance, he entered the basketball court, which was just a left turn away from the main desk and a short walk down a wide corridor. When he got there, he saw Gin and Aizen merely shooting around. Both were already working up a sweat from shooting nothing but 3 pointers. For some reason unknown to anyone but himself, the stoic youth kept his glasses on.
"I'm here, ya faggots," Grimmjaw greeted. True, most people would get offended by this and leave (especially the political correct libs), but these two knew they were dealing with a dirty mouth in dire need of Orbit.
Gin was dribbling a ball between his legs at the half-court line. Driving in to the left elbow before stepping back and flinging the J, he yelled, "KOBE!"
Swish
"You think that's an impressive, don't you Gin?" Aizen said, giving off a wicked grin.
From the half court line, Aizen took a few dribbles while keeping his head cocked to the side so that he was showing his murderer's grin to Grimmjaw. Without warning he jumped and brought the ball slightly above his head, his right hand directly below the ball and his left supporting it, before flicking his wrist and firing away.
Maintaining his perfect form and follow-through on the descent back to the ground, he yelled, "BUCKETS!"
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Hanatarou had had an enjoyable meal to say the least: three triple quarter pounders and two super size fries. He ate so much that in another world one would think he was a fat slob, really. Fortunately for him, he was born with an exceptional metabolism.
Feeling satisfied, he entered his house and logged onto his instant messenger. Noticing that Rukia was on, he decided to IM her.
Hisagomaru1129: hey
x9SodeNoShirayuki9x: wut do u want
Nervous of where to go from here, he continued.
Hisagomaru1129: i wanted to kno why u hate me
x9SodeNoShirayuki9x: i dun hate u, but if u think u can get with me then forget it
Hisagomaru1129: thats not wat i was askin but ok…
Hisagomaru1129: why are you so mean to me
Hisagomaru1129:?
x9SodeNoShirayuki9x: shut up, im busy
Hisagomaru1129: so you do hate me
Deciding to have some fun, Hanatarou pressed farther
Hisagomaru1129: just because you were born with more money than the rest of us doesn't make you any better
x9SodeNoShirayuki9x: lol
x9SodeNoShirayuki9x: dont be jealous
So he was much more self-confident online than in person…so what? No one even noticed him anyway and very few remembered who it was that pissed them off the night before. Thoroughly ticked off with her arrogance (despite his reverence for her beauty, he was one of those kids who said whacky things to get attention too), Hanatarou went for the kill…
Hisagomaru1129: im not jealous of a midget like you
x9SodeNoShirayuki9x signed off at 3:44 PM
Gasping with horror, Yamada scrambled to create another screen name. He couldn't be blocked…talking to Rukia consisted of 90 percent of his online time. Quickly creating a new account, he signed onto it and IMed her again.
imsorry112990: sorry for making fun of you rukia
x9SodeNoShirayuki9x: I hope you are, otherwise id set ichigo on u
imsorry112990: LOL
imsorry112990: strawberry can't do anything to me
x9SodeNoShirayuki9x: that's it
x9SodeNoShirayuki9x: im telling ichigo
x9SodeNoShirayuki9x: enjoy getting your ass kicked tomorrow
x9SodeNoShirayuki9xsigned off at 3:59 PM
"WHAT?" It had all happened so fast, and after reading and re-reading the last three lines, he went into a panic attack. Ichigo was going to kill him now.
Creating yet another name to suit the situation, he contacted the last available person on his buddy list.
RuKiAh8sMaGuTs: ew
Suzumushi: what do you want now hanatarou?
RuKiAh8sMaGuTs: you phail
Suzumushi: Wow…you incompetent fool
RuKiAh8sMaGuTs: your mom's an incompetent fool
RuKiAh8sMaGuTs: ohhhhhhhhhh burnnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Suzumushi: Wow, you have no life
Suzumushi signed off at 4:05 PM
"Well this sucks," Hanatarou sulked. Suddenly, a bright idea popped up into his head: 6 bowls of cereal to calm the nerves.
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"Holy motherfuckin' shit on a stick, Aizen."
That's right, his half court shot was 100 percent wet, causing even Gin to open his eyes in shock.
"I told you, this is all just one large physics game to me," he casually replied.
"Quit braggin,' Aizen. I know my physics shit to, I ain't half bad at it." Jack smirked. It was true, physics came naturally to him because mathematics came naturally as well. Thus, impressing Grimmjaw with his prowess did not work as Aizen would like.
"But yer more than half bad at ballin," Gin butted in, smiling even wider at his witty humor.
"Che, so what? I bench more than y'all niggaz combined," he defended himself with Western ebonics.
Aizen turned away from the conversation. Of course Jack did not know how he became so strong, Sousuke had made sure of that…
19 months ago
The blue-haired menace and his taller friend were at Aizen's doorstep. Earlier today, he had personally telephoned them and offered to make them stronger provided they did not discover how he did it. Although they were unsure at first, his persuasive words coaxed them towards agreeing; after all, Grimmjaw was looking to standout so he could try out for an NFL team; he felt a 285 pound bench press was not enough. Noitora was hoping to maximize his pitching potential; in his eyes, an 80 miles-per-hour fastball did not cut it.
"What do ya think he's gonna do?" Noitora asked.
"Feh, probably some training device or some shit like that," Grimmjaw nonchalantly replied before the door swung open, revealing a fully clad Aizen. He wore a navy blue shirt that said, "I'm with liberal" in white lettering and showed a large finger in the same color pointing to the wearer's. Futhermore, he had a pair of generic auburn shorts coupled with ankle socks.
"Shit, I thought ya took of the socks at home at least!" the shorter man exclaimed.
"No, walking barefoot feels so…"
Both Espadas awaited the taboo word. Everyone knew that Aizen had a pseudo-obsession with liberals and an attached goal of eradicating the world of their existence. While some were scared off by his talk, these two realized it was all tongue-in-cheek and had even helped him co-invent "lehberal," a spin-off of the other word that intended to show that the whole set-up was a joke. Currently, these three said it the best, making sure to use their lowest pitches possible while keeping their neck muscles taut, thus mimicking a croaking frog yet still cracking people up.
"…proletarian." Their eyes widened in mock amazement.
"Hold on…did Aizen just…." Noitora started, his grin growing wider.
"…skip the chance to say…'lehberal'?" Grimmjaw finished, croaking the last word out as intended.
All three laughed out loud at this shocking development; it was a mildly amusing LOLfest.
"Ah, but where are my manners? Make yourselves at home," Aizen gestured to the interior of his house. Stepping in, the two made their way to his living room couch.
"Anything to drink, perhaps?" they were asked.
"Yeah," Jack quickly answered. "Lemme get a Guinness with some hard lemonade, please," an odious grin on his face. Everyone knew that if you were looking for any drugs, alcohol, or sex…it wouldn't be found in this house.
"You're too funny, Grimmjaw," the spectacled youth replied with joyful sarcasm, eliciting an angered reaction from the larger teen.
"Shut the fuck up, Aizen! If you call me that shit one more time I'll fuckin' kill you!" he roared at his victim, who was unfazed by this verbal onslaught.
After today, that possibility will be gone, Sousuke thought to himself.
"Anyway," he continued, brushing off the cantankerous kid's comments, "what will it be?"
"Gatorade," Noitora spoke up. Having watched hundreds of sports drink commercials, he drank only two things :Water and –ade beverages, usually Powerade and Gatorade.
"I'll have the same," Grimmjaw finally said after coming down from his emotional height.
A minute later, Aizen had returned with two bottles of Cool Blue Gatorade, tossing one to Jack and Noitora each and sitting at an armchair across from the two. The following calm atmosphere was interrupted only by frequent sipping noises for the next minute.
"So…what's this thing ya wanna show us?" Noitora asked as he had just finished half of his drink.
"It's something you will want to get your hands on as soon as you lay eyes on it," Aizen responded.
"Stop bullshittin' and say what it is," Grimmjaw interrupted, having finished his beverage by now.
"Relax, I'm going to get it right now. Hold on," Sousuke rose from his chair and headed upstairs to his room, counting down silently in his head.
3…2…1…
"Ah, I'm feelin' mad tired…shit…" Grimmjaw's head was rocking back in forth as he was falling in and out of consciousness.
"You alright?" Noitora asked. His answer was a resounding 'thud' and a rhythmic breathing pattern emanating from Grimmjaw.
Running back down with two weight-belts in his hand, Aizen saw Jack on the floor and looked at Noitora.
"What happened here?"
"He was feeling tired and just fell down…" he responded.
"Shit, I'm feelin' kinda sleepy too…those belts are cool though." And he fell horizontally over Jack's head, so his feet where on the other man's face,
Looks like I put in the right amount of sedative, Aizen mused. Now the real fun began.
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A/N: I know this is unconventional for me to do, but I just realized how hard it is to sit down and type 10,000 words…looks like this story will top out at a little OVER NINE THOUSAND!!!!!!!!! (I couldn't resist)…next one is gonna have so much stuff in it that it should reach 10,000 though. Anyway, back to the flashback…
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Grabbing Noitora's collar with his left hand and Grimmjaw's with his right, Aizen dragged the two to a room in the back of his house. Inside was an innumerable spread of chemicals and contraptions. Although the room could not have been more than five hundred square feet in area, it had various stations for all sorts of scientific work. The 5 x 10 feet desk near the entrance supported a regular PC as well as mountainous of notebooks containing numerous details of information. The three cabinets on the desk's left-hand side contained hundreds of peach-colored file folders, each labeled at the tab and storing myriad data. About 10 feet to the right of the entrance was an even larger table with all sorts of laboratory equipment, from pipettes and burettes to a centrifuge and PCR machine. The rest of the room consisted of three counter, each with special reagents that Aizen had successfully ordered through the alias "Teru Mikami." All the way in the back was another doorway leading to a small 8 x 15 x 10 feet room with yet another computer, three different telephone receivers attached to three different jacks, and four shelves, each mounted halfway up each wall with dozens of cardboard boxes protecting hundreds of science research papers. On the computer screen was a cross-section of an individual actin from a research paper from the NIH website. This entire two-room complex created Aizen Sousuke's "underground laboratory." Although it was on the same floor as most of the house, its presence had been completely sealed with the illusion that there was just more wall where the lab's main entrance was. The lab had taken over 10 months to develop to its present state; creating Kyouka Suigetsu, a process which had taken him over 15 months, seemed like a walk in the park compared to sifting through the plethora of papers and instruments found throughout the facility. Realizing that space was cramped for the time being, Aizen had decided to limit his goals for now. He remembered what his contact from last month's Chemistry Olympiad camp had planned on.
Aizen had just received the name of his roommate on the slip of paper handed out at the end of the first day. Reaching his assigned room, he met another kid sitting off the edge of his bed, idly skimming through a Biology textbook. He had a "precise" appearance: his white-rimmed spectacles were placed in such a way that they were not sliding down his nose. His uniquely-colored hair covered the right half of his forehead as well as parts of his reddish-orange eyes, which were covered by his glasses. Furthermore, he was wearing a blank shirt that was neatly tucked into his navy blue jeans. He seemed to be bored out of his mind, really. After observing him for a moment, Sousuke spoke up.
"Are you Szayel Grantz?"
Not even looking up from his mindless activity, the pink-haired teen replied, "that would be me. You're Aizen Sousuke, correct?"
"Correct," he answered, slightly impressed by the other boy's aloof demeanor. "Looks like we're roommates for the next two weeks."
Seating himself on the bed across from the detached kid, Aizen asked, "I assume you are competent in the Biology Olympiad, am I right?"
Smirking and shutting the book, Szayel finally looked at Sousuke.
"Of course. I didn't win a gold medal by pure luck," he retorted, further piquing Aizen's interest. Remembering his LTG brotha's infatuation with this Olympiad, he asked how familiar Szayel was with "Tousen Kaname." The response?
"Trash."
When pressed on, he continued. "He has a limited knowledge of laboratory procedures and was the weakest finalist last year. Furthermore, he presses too hard to demonstrate his competence, thus exposing his insecurities. There is nothing he can do that any other camp attendee can't do. As far as his chances of becoming an international participant within the next two years, I would put that at about 7 percent."
Taking this all in, Aizen felt something eating away in the back of his mind. "How many years were you a finalist before making the IBO team??"
Szayel lay down on his bed before replying, "Well, I didn't make it in 7th grade so I took AP Biology the next year to advance. So I participated in the camp for 3 years before I made the traveling team."
This made Aizen relax a little; he wasn't an idiot for qualifying for the study camp two consecutive years and not even being an alternate. However, he had taken AP Biology a year earlier and tried his hand at the Biology Olympiad from eighth grade onwards. Hell, he had even been invited to the camp the past two years. Upon telling his acquaintance about this, the other guy showed slight surprise.
"Why didn't you come, then? I'm sure you would have made internationals too," Szayel stated , sitting back up and looking into the other's eyes.
"I chose the chemistry camp both times," he answered, grimacing at the possibilities.
"Tch," the gold medalist scoffed, closing his eyes for a few seconds. "That's insane; you must be keen on research then."
Sousuke gave his trademark crazed smile and the two delved into discussing their projects. Evidently, Szayel performed independent research on the effects of nerve gas on rats in his basement, away from authoritative eyes. He wanted to try another project involving biohazards; he even acknowledged that this work was clearly off the record and he would not enter any research competition next year.
After an hour of discussing neurons, satellite cells, and biological warfare, Aizen asked his comrade where he was applying to colleges.
"I am definitely going to an American school. They salivate over these medals…so my list, by priority, is Johns Hopkins, MIT, Harvard, Caltech, and Cornell. What about you?"
"I'm taking the American route as well. MIT, Princeton, and Harvard are my top three choices, although I am heavily leaning towards MIT."
"Che, you'll get in everywhere," Szayel remarked. "You won first place at ISEF, right? That's an automatic entrance into any college."
"I sure hope so," Aizen said, feeling strangely reassured.
Throughout the two weeks, the two came to understand each other's ideals better. Aizen divulged his own, whereas Szayel just wanted a society where science prevailed above all else. Thus, despite the shock that was his third mishap in a row, seeing as how he only qualified as an alternate, Aizen felt he had gotten something out of it this year.
As they parted ways, Aizen gave his number and IM screen-name to Szayel.
"I have a feeling we'll be speaking to each other soon."
Grantz gave a slight smile. "So do I. Don't let the lack of room bother you…when we're in the States, we'll have plenty of space to research." Turning around and heading for his train, he put his hand in the air. "Until then, Aizen."
He had not forgotten this guarantee.
Setting up Grimmjaw in one chair and Noitora in another, Aizen donned a pair of latex gloves and rummaged around for a vial of clear liquid and two syringes. Finding them after a few minutes, he loaded up 400 milligrams of liquid in each syringe. Heading over to Grimmjaw first, he searched for a vein along the right arm. Grabbing some cotton and alcohol swabs from a nearby counter, he wiped the area near the top of his forearm clean with the ethanol.
"You will be very useful in the future, Grimmjaw," he muttered to the sleeping form. Slowly, he injected the needle of one of the syringes into Jack's arm, just below his elbow. Watching the liquid finally dispense from the syringe and enter the vein, he carefully removed the needle and quickly placed a cotton swab in its stead. Using his left hand to hold on, he found a band-aid on a desk and applied it snugly onto the cotton with his right.
Repeating the process with Noitora, Aizen dragged the two back out of the lab and back to his living room. Getting a glass of water from the sink, he flicked a few drops of liquid onto their faces. Seeing them start to stir, Aizen picked up his weight belts and placed them on the nearby armchair.
Noitora came to first, then Grimmjaw.
"What the fuck happened…why am I here?" a temporarily disoriented Grimmjaw asked. Noitora had similar thoughts.
"You two fell asleep while I was describing how useful these things are," Aizen gestured to the weight belts. Handing one to each of them, he continued. "As I was saying before you passed out, you should wear these while you lift weights; whenever you want to perform a one-rep maximum, you will take these belts off and laugh at the difference as well as how strong you've become."
These two looked like kids on the last day of school.
"Alright! This shit rapes! You are the fuckin' man, Aizen!" Grimmjaw jubilantly yelled.
"Yeah, this is some good shit right here," Noitora replied, fastening the 30 pound belt around his waist.
"You're quite welcome," Aizen replied as the two made their way out. "Let me know how it goes in September," he said, bidding them farewell and closing the door before smiling.
They would never discover on their own what had been done to them; it was best if things stayed that way for a while.
Present
"How about we get a quick game of 'twenty one' going, perhaps?" Gin's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Sure, who wants to break to start the game? Aizen…" Jack called for Sousuke, who grinned at this opportunity. About two steps behind the three point line, he looked at Gin and Grimmjaw, who were waiting for him to shoot but were a bit too close for comfort.
"I need a little room to breathe…" they took a step forward, as did he. Aizen Sousuke was now… one step closer to the edge and-
"I'm about to break."
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Just five minutes after pouring the cereal for his first bowl, Hanatarou was speeding through his fifth. Whenever he felt a strong emotion, he would overeat. One time, he had a naughty naughty dream about Rukia and himself. When he woke up sweating, he ran down to the kitchen and had about eight bowls of Fruity Pebbles©.
Thinking of people to help him out, he realized everyone in Soul Society would hate him, and he would probably be in a cast for a week after Ichigo was through with him.
At this moment, Yamada took time to reflect on the foolishness of his actions. Yes, he liked Rukia, but for some reason he wanted to feel tough sitting behind a computer screen, so he went and said mean things to her. Actually, he felt so bad he did not notice the tears falling down his face. He silently continued eating his tear-laden cereal while wondering what he would be in life. He was neither smart nor athletic. He had neither connections nor friends…although he did have one great dream where he was a pimp, but he never told anyone about it; if he/she heard about it, that person would do on of the three:
Laugh at him
Beat him senseless
C) Ignore him
Realizing he was finished, Hanatarou put the bowl back in the sink, wied his eyes, and smiled at him.
"Ahhh time for bowl number 6!"
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"Yo dad, can Gin and Aizen come over and eat?" Jack was asking his father to set up the barbecue so that the three of them could have some burgers and hot dogs. The game had been intense; Gin and Aizen each hit up to 19 before being tapped down to zero (A/N: learn how to play "twenty one" in basketball if you're confused). In the end, Jack snuck by with the win, but not before Gin reached 21 again yet failed to nail the half-court shot to win, thus dropping his score back down to 15.
After a few seconds, Jack said goodbye to his dead. "Yo, you guys can come over."
As Aizen drove to Jack's house, he took into account the type of person he would be dealing with. Grimmjaw John was a…strange individual to deal with, to say the least. For starters, he was an American businessman who had come to Japan before Jack was born. Supposedly, he had come because he had dealings with the mafia and was running low on money; the more likely explanation was that he was smart and taking advantage of a good opportunity, since 1 American dollar was equivalent to approximately 100 yen. However, from the way Jack spoke to his father, one could only assume he was twice as intimidating.
Pulling up behind the Diablo at Jack's house, Aizen stepped out of the drivers seat while Gin got out of the passengers' side.
"Come 'round the back," Jack called out to the other two. Aizen and Gin followed him to the deck on the back, where a large table with all sorts of condiments and utensils was set up. At the grill was none other than…
"Good afternoon, Grimmjaw-san," Aizen called out to Jack's father. Although not as tall as his son, John Grimmjaw was stockier and had deep brown eyes; plus, his hair was slicked back, which might have accounted for the suspicion that he was a mob boss. Although he knew some Japanese, he was someone it was better to speak in English to lest you wanted to get made fun of by him.
"Hey hey hey! Four eyes! What's happening?!" he called out to Sousuke. This was another trait of Grimmjaw-san: he loved to make fun of people, even with trite and hopelessly unfunny jokes, which made Gin's chuckle inexplicable…unless he was laughing at the sight of Jack being calm for once because of his dad's presence.
Ignoring him, Aizen sat down at the table as he and the other two high schoolers grabbed their plates from the center of the tables.
"So what will you three be having?" Grimmjaw-san asked the three of them. Gin and Jack asked for two hamburgers and a hot dog.
"What about you four eyes?" Aizen mentally laughed at the guy's idiocy. Once it might have been funny, but a second time…not so much!
"You're killing me, Grimmjaw," Aizen replied, intentionally dropping the honorific. "Two hot dogs and a cheeseburger," he replied.
"It's a joke, dumbass!" John replied, earning sniggers from the other two, especially Gin. "Nah, I shouldn't be sayin' that stuff, one day four eyes is gonna be performin' surgery on me."
Giving off a fake smile, Aizen answered. "Sounds like a plan; I'll be sure to cut your ACL nice enough." He was positive that everyone had picked up on the double meaning within that statement.
"And I'll be sure to beat your ass afterwards," Grimmjaw shot back.
The atmosphere settled back into one of equanimity shortly thereafter; everyone was eating their over-flavored, trans-fatty American food. Aizen wasn't one to want to develop cancer, but he knew that red meat every once in a while did not hurt either, so he decided to apply ample amounts of ketchup, relish, and mustard.
Of course, Grimmjaw had to break the silence. "So how're them Ruskies feelin' about that Cold War?" Yet another attempt to attack Aizen. With a Russian father and a Japanese mother, he had received anti-Russian comments before. However, he never cared if someone did insult "mother Russia" because he felt no nationalist pride the way most people felt towards their ethnic nations. He could have been part Kenyan and he wouldn't have given a damn if people made AIDS jokes about his parents. However, Grimmjaw was known to take ethnic insults to the extreme, effectively killing any humor Aizen might have seen in them.
"Yeah, they got their bitch asses handed to them back in '91," Gin chimed in like the opportunist he was.
"Hey, shut the hell up! We don't curse in this family!" Grimmjaw yelled. Apparently, the "Mrs." was not in town for a while. The few times he had met her, Aizen had come to believe that she was the rock that kept the unstable group together. Considering Jack's younger brothers James and Joseph were all over the place, he was amazed that she managed to keep her cool in the middle of the circus show.
Naturally, the hypocrite resumed his bashing of the former Soviet Union.
"Those fuckin' commies actually thought they could beat democracy! U.S.A! All the way!" Grimmjaw loudly boasted as he was joined by his son.
"They beat the U.S. to space, that's for sure. Ever hear of Sputnik?" Aizen asked, deciding to restore a semblance of objectivity, but actually causing an uproar as the Grimmjaws started yelling at him before John told his son to "shut the fuck up!" and let him talk.
"Who made it to the moon first? Yeah that's right, commie-boy."
Gin decided to speak up on Aizen's behalf. "My my, yer gon' make 'im hate us, Grimmjaw-san!"
"Don't worry," Grimmjaw chuckled before continuing. "He comes from Russia with Love!" This statement prompted howls of laughter from everyone except Aizen.
"Please don't flatter yourself, Grimmjaw," he said through a cheery façade. "You might become as good a humorist as Renji."
Calming down, John scoffed. "Renji? Abarai? Abarai (1) cut that gay pony tail of his so he doesn't look like such a bitch?!"
Same result, except Aizen actually chuckled at this. For the time being, he had shifted the spotlight away from him.
"What a fuckin' jigger," the Grimmjaws laughed again. This time Gin asked, "what's a jigger?"
"The Japanese version of a wigger!" Jack completed before bursting out into laughter. Neither Gin nor Aizen found this funny, but the former laughed anyway. Unfortunately, the next question was directed back at Aizen.
"So genius, where you goin' to next year?"
Deciding to play Grimmjaw's game, he answered, "Probably Tokyo Community College," which angered the other man.
"Hey buddy I asked you a serious question, so give me a fuckin' serious answer for once," he snarled.
Sighing, Aizen divulged. "Probably MIT. Do you plan on moving back to the States just to follow me back there?"
Gin shook his head. "That wasn' funny, Aizen." Where the fuck did he come from? Oh that's right: he followed the "when in doubt, side with the Grimmjaw" rule.
"Didn't someone go to MIT recently?" Grimmjaw inquired.
"Yes, Schiffer Ulquiorra was accepted last year," Sousuke replied, certain of where this conversation was headed. He had already heard two scoffs as the name was mentioned.
"That emo fag? I didn't know you swung that way, four eyes!" Again with the four eyes crap; there it was, more degrading comments.
"Dad, there's a reason we used to call him Shitty Schiffer," Jack lied through his teeth. No one had ever said that because it was such a phailure of an insult. Of course, John didn't realize that and roared at the comment.
"THAT is fuckin' brilliant Jack….fucking haza with that green paint. What the fuck was up with that? He probably was a bitch cutter too…hey Russia," Grimmjaw addressed Aizen. "You musta gotten close enough to him to see his wrists. How red were they? Or did he not take his clothes off for ya?"
"Seems as if you know a lot about this cutting business, Grimmjaw. Care to explain?" Aizen coolly replied. He was about to leave. It was almost five thirty anyway, and he wanted to go home.
Grimmjaw rose from his seat and glared daggers at the 'offender.'
"Don't fuckin' joke with me like that, commie lovin' bitch!"
Any intelligible response was drowned out by Jack's mocking of the Russian accent while saying "Oh Russia!" and Gin's statements of "For Stalin, the Red Army, and the Fatherland!"
Then, he was gone. "Oi! Where the fuck did he go? I didn't see him get up…" John said.
Aizen had left as soon as he responded to Grimmjaw; he was already halfway back home by now.
Arriving at his house, he did some housekeeping work in his lab before signing on AIM.
Noticing that Gin had signed on, he sent the same message to everyone on his buddy list. True, these weren't his thoughts, but he would love to see the reaction at school tomorrow. Since there was nothing particularly interesting going on tomorrow and he felt like wreaking havoc on the pitiful minds of Bleach High School, he typed:
"Arm yourselves with knowledge: John Grimmjaw works for the mafia."
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Hanatarou was done eating cereal for the day; he had felt extra hungry from crying, so he added another four bowls to give him a grand total of ten. Returning to his computer, he noticed a new IM had popped up:
KyoukaSuigetsu: Arm yourselves with knowledge, John Grimmjaw works for the mafia.
Completely ignoring the actual statement by examining who spoke and not what was said, Hanatarou felt his heart leap with joy. Someone had actually IMed him.
"I need to celebrate!" he triumphantly declared before heading back for…more Fruity Pebbles…
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The next day, Aizen made sure to avoid confrontation with Grimmjaw. However, at lunch he was walking to his car to eat there (like hell he would sit next to a pissed off Jack) when he heard the rowdy kid about fifteen feet away yelling, "yeah, Aizen's been talkin' mad shit."
The trek to his car after-school would be much more difficult to finagle.
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Hanatarou purposely came in late the next day to avoid third period Accounting with Ichigo. Unfortunately, he still had Lunch with him. Trying to slip out of school and head to the parking lot as diligently as possible, he made it only ten feet away from his locker when a hand slammed against the locker in front of him, an arm protruding from it as well as shoulder and face of…a pissed off Ichigo.
"Ohayo, Hanatarou," Ichigo casually replied with a fake smile.
"O-ohayo, Ichigo-san," Hanatarou trembled in fear.
"So, I hear you called my Rukia a midget?"
Yamada scrambled to form words. "A-ah, w-wel-"
"and SUPPOSEDLY," Ichigo cut him off, then paused for dramatic effect. "I can't do anything to you?"
"I-I can explain!" Hanatarou said. The next thing he knew, he had his face up against the locker and his left arm being painfully twisted behind his back.
"Ow ow ow ow ow!"
"Don't worry, I won't do anything to you…yet," Kurosaki dangerously continued. Letting go of Hanatarou, he turned to walk away while the victim rubbed his sore left shoulder.
Turning his head back so that only half his face could be seen by the weaker kid, he slyly added, "Enjoy your last two hours on this planet." With a smirk, he left a kid who was scared shitless slide down the locker.
Me and my big mouth….
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They were hot on his trail; thus, he decided to take a detour to the parking lot. In order to do so, he would essentially circumnavigate the school, exiting out of a backdoor entrance. That was the plan, at least. Then, Zaraki Kenpachi of all people and Jack's biggest rival, and his boys, which included Ikkaku and Yumichika, joined the chase. Aizen's guess was that they wanted to either beat him up and then beat up Grimmjaw's gang or just experience the thrill of the hunt.
Changing up his strategy, Aizen ran down a flight of stairs and headed outside. He was now hiding behind walls and the like to capture the Metal Gear Solid feel. Seeing one of Jack's people turn onto the opposite corner of the extension of the building, he quickly spun to the other face of the building to avoid being seen. About fifty yards to his left was the lot. In order to get there without being detected, he needed to go around to the lot's backside; this meant an additional two hundred yards. However, he barely took twn steps after rounding the corner.
"What do we have here?" Jack smirked as Aizen slowly backed away, only to feel another presence.
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Hanatarou left his last period class two minutes early to avoid the scrum of people who would be after his scrawny ass.
Unfortunately, Ichigo and Renji saw him as he was less than seventy yards from the parking lot himself. "Hey, Onnada, it's time for a royal ass-whoopin'" Ichigo said from afar, smiling in anticipation.
As calmly as possible, the boy retreated from the approaching mass of people only to feel someone else's back.
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"AH!" About to turn around, Hanatarou felt a kick to his thigh and stopped.
"Don't move," Aizen muttered. "I have a plan to get us out of this mess." I know this is wrong, but I can't help it…
"Well, it looks like we got two trash-talkers cornered and up against the proverbial wall," Ichigo said, still smiling.
"Which one of them should we pound first, Grimmjaw?" Everyone was cracking their knuckles.
"Hmm…your call!" Grimmjaw replied.
"Now start crying like the world is going to end," Aizen whispered.
"N-nani?" Hanatarou replied. "That's stupid!" he hissed back.
"Just do it, Yamada-kun."
"Ah, alright. Here goes."
As if on cue, he started bawling like there was no tomorrow. "P-please d-don't h-hurt me Ichigo-san! I swear it was an accident! I w-wont insult y-you or R-rukia-sama ever again!"
"Aww…" Grimmjaw mocked. "Looks like the baby needs to change his diaper!"
Everyone within the vicinity started to laugh until Kon noticed something amiss.
"Hey, where's Aizen?"
Grimmjaw's eyes widened. "That-"
The next thing he knew, he was on the ground with a sharp pain in his…hram, as were Ichigo, Renji, Zaraki, Ikkaku, Yumichika, and Kon.
In a harbinger of things to come, Hanatarou was thrown on Aizen's shoulder as the two made their escape to the Lexus. As the remaining twenty people started to chase them, Aizen pulled out of his parking spot, revved up the motor and looked directly into Yamada's eyes.
"Buckle up."
"T-that bitch! How the FUCK did he do that?!" Grimmjaw screamed, still nursing his hram with a pained expression. He had the odds against Aizen, and yet the man had still won. How was it possible?
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The engine revved up and hit 5000 RPM within a matter of seconds. Hanatarou was lurched back into his seat by the force.
"Arigatou gosai masu, Aizen-san," he looked hopefully at the driver, whose eyes were fixed on the road ahead of him.
"Not a problem Yamada-kun. I was in a tight spot myself." Not really, I could have left any time I wanted….
Aizen kept that thought to himself, however. There was no need to break the kid like that.
After guiding Sousuke to his house, Hanatarou got out and turned around to face Aizen while playing with his fingers.
"I just have one question, Aizen-san." He mumbled while fidgeting around. "What was the purpose of me crying? Was it to distract them?"
I can't hold it in much longer. With a half-smile, Aizen replied.
"Not exactly. I just wanted to see if the rumors were true."
"What rumors?" Yamada asked.
"That you cry like a girl. Congratulations, you pass." Those were his last words before driving off.
"H-hey!" Hanatarou kicked a pebble and looked back to the ground. "That's not very nice…"
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Returning home, Aizen decided to rest a while. The past two days had been fun indeed. Not only had Grimmjaw actually thought he could talk back to his superior and get away with it, but he had established a relationship with Hanatarou; this would make his future plans much easier.
Despite Gin's insubordination yesterday, he decided to IM him.
KyoukaSuigetsu: You should have stayed for the show.
Shinsou727: lol
Shinsou727: lemme guess, ya pwned them?
KyoukaSuigetsu: In a word, yes.
Shinsou727: lol
KyoukaSuigetsu: I saved Yamada-kun as well.
Shinsou727: LOL
Shinsou727: why'd ya help out that phailure?
KyoukaSuigetsu: Trust me, you'll see the foresight behind the move soon enough.
Shinsou727: Always three steps ahead of da game, aren't ya Aizen
KyoukaSuigetsu: Absolutely.
Shinsou727: lol
Shinsou727: ite I gtg ttyl
KyoukaSuigetsu: Till tomorrow.
Shinsou727: adios
Shinsou727 signed off at 3:15 PM
After an uneventful day of watching ESPN, Aizen called it an early night at 9:40 PM. Settling into a blissful state of semi-sleep, he wondered what the plan was for tomorrow.
All of a sudden, he realized it was February 14th, Valentines Day.
Looks like I'll have to deal with a lot more liberal behavior tomorrow.
A/N: Well, another chapter of LTG Uncut...I promise I won't insult you this blatantly for the rest of the fic, Grimmjaw...I just had to get it out of the way.
Footnotes:
1. "Abarai" is supposed to sound like " How 'bout I" the way he says it.