A/N: Well, sorry for not updating sooner. I'm a wee bit busy at the moment with life. Which kinda sucks sometimes, so you all know. Anywho, I'm also going to be posting more for this fic, as the next couple of chapters are leading up to the Games.
o-o-o-o
"Broken down I lay,
I keep holding my chains,
No longer bound but here I stay"
-Run Kid Run
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Chapter Three
Training Centre for the Masked Games
4:00 AM
Grimmjow continued learning over the next week about all the different scenarios that he would most likely encounter in the Games, along with pairing up with Italy, whose name was actually Isane Kotetsu. She was rather timid compared to some of the tributes, and he deduced that she was probably not going to last long in the Games, regardless if they were allies or not. But damn it all if he didn't try to keep her alive for at least a couple of days.
Her healing skills already astounded him. She could heal even the most severe injuries on the 'dummies', all with the same calm demeanor that she retained while training and going about her daily activities.
Yachiru continued stalking him around, Kenpachi trusting her to take care of herself, as she was 'more than capable to take care of anyone who would want to harm her in any way, shape or form'.
Soifon, the tribute from China, seemed to have it out for him, something that amused him greatly when Yachiru told her off and 'not to touch my Kitty!'
Well, not so much with the 'Kitty' part.
What really annoyed Grimmjow to no end was the fact that he couldn't get any privacy, no matter where he went to escape the nefarious press. And if it wasn't the press, it was the security, or the mentors, or the designers, or some other fucking asshole who wanted to piss him off.
o-o-o-o
"Oh Grimmjow~!" Yumichika chirped, pouncing onto the teal haired Sexta's back and giggling girlishly. "I need you to come back to your room to try on the outfit for tonight's interviews!"
"No. "Grimmjow snapped, struggling to get the flamboyant gay off of his back. "And will you let go of me, you freak!?"
"Not until you come to get your outfit on!" Yumichika suddenly snarled, his grip unforgiving as he clung like a monkey on his back. "Now get your sexy ass upstairs before I do something you're going to regret!"
Immediately, Grimmjow gave in, knowing exactly what kind of thing he was speaking of and knowing exactly how unpleasant it would be for him and everyone watching. Who, at this point, consisted of most of the tributes and a couple of the other designers, who were snickering under their breath at his predicament.
Kenpachi and Yachiru were too, but he didn't really give a fuck about them right now. He was more interested in getting the punishment known as 'interview preview' over with.
o-o-o-o
"No. I refuse to wear that…thing." Grimmjow hissed venomously, his teeth bared as he attempted to claw his way up the wall and partially succeeding. At least until Ikkaku grabbed his ankles and tossed him across the room and into the opposite wall, where he lay there for a moment, stunned.
"Quit being a baby and get the damned outfit on." He rolled his eyes, his sheathed zanpakuto still slung over his shoulders as per usual.
"Easy for you to say. Did you see that monstrosity!?" he screeched, making a break for the door as Yumichika pursued him with a vengeance. "It's covered in feathers!"
"They're beautiful!" Yumichika yelled back in a rather un-beautifully-obsessed-Yumichika-way, diving for Grimmjow's ankles and missing by an inch.
Grimmjow yanked open the door and made a break for freedom, only to slam into something hard and warm.
Ah fuck. He swore, backpedalling the best he could under the circumstances. Kenpachi glanced over his head at the carnage within the room before looking back at Grimmjow, who, at this point, looked like a cat that had gotten tossed into a hurricane and then spat out.
"Going somewhere, Jeagerjaques?" he asked menacingly, taking a step forward and driving the unfortunate male back into the one place he didn't want to be at the moment.
However, when Yumichika flourished two more feathery costumes….
Let's just say that it wasn't a pretty sight.
o-o-o-o
"Welcome back to our second tribute interviews." Rose smiled softly, his outfit the same as the last night Grimmjow had been forced to come here. "Tonight, the tributes are preparing for the tomorrow, their last chance to get ready for the Games. Tonight, we drew numbers to see which tribute is going first."
The crowd tittered, as if they were a bunch of women. Actually, most of the crowd was women. Grimmjow paced in front of the large television, grateful for Kenpachi's destructive nature at this moment. He'd completely mauled the poor costumes, and there had been a very colorful room left behind when they'd finally managed to get another set of costumes ready.
"And our first tribute tonight is Grimmjow Jeagerjaques from Brazil." Rose smiled, waving the reluctant male onstage.
Gasps and murmurs broke out among the crowd: apparently they liked what they saw.
Grimmjow was dressed in a pair of low hakama style pants, white with black accents, and black with white accented boots. He had been wrangled into not wearing a shirt, and only wore an elbow length white jacket with black accents. His bronze skin glowed in the heavy lighting, and he'd been attacked with teal eye-liner by Yumichika literally before he went onstage.
He had not, however, allowed him anywhere near his hair.
"Good evening, Grimmjow." Rose murmured politely, offering him a plush navy seat. "I must admit, it's definitely like seeing a new you tonight. How is your designer, Yumichika is it? Is he proud that you're showing off his fine pieces of art?"
Grimmjow several replies to that particular question locked and loaded, but he instead swallowed heavily and plastered on a slight sneer. "Of course."
He then muttered something nasty about feathers, which, of course, the audience heard. So really, he didn't actually mutter. He'd actually said it loudly.
And of course, the audience took it for granted. Of course they wouldn't know the horrors of having a flamboyantly gay designer who, coincidentally, was in a relationship with his mentor. Insert mental shudder here.
"Ah, so there is a humorous side to you after all, Grimmjow." Rose grinned, revealing a set of completely pearl teeth.
He said nothing in reply, honestly done with all of the dramatic people around him.
Well, at least the day after tomorrow will mark the end of twenty six people. he thought to himself as the bell rang.
"Good evening, Grimmjow." Rose waved after him as he prowled offstage to the applause and cries of the audience. Apparently, they approved of him. And approval meant sponsers, which meant Isane would most likely last longer with him.
Something rebelled at the thought of Isane dying, and Grimmjow shook his head as he started back towards his room, where of course he would have no company for the rest of the evening. Now didn't that sound fucking peachy.
o-o-o-o
The next morning dawned bright and early, and Grimmjow was down in the training room by four. As usual, he was alone for at least an hour before China's tribute, Soifon, would come in, nod once in greeting and veiled threat, and get to work.
He knew that there would be one hell of a bloodbath tomorrow. After all, Kenpachi, Soifon, himself, and a couple of the other tributes could probably take down an army and be barely sweating. A creepy thought, but true nonetheless.
"Alright!" Hisagi, the head trainer, called as he came through the doors, "Today's our last day, so you need to do your damn best today to get ready!"
Grimmjow already knew that, although he didn't think that he needed to do much else than to focus on the minor training stations like plants and how to start fires. The small stuff that could save his life in the Games at some point. All he needed now was to get Pantera ready for the bloodbath that was sure to occur.
He spent the rest of the day sweating and fighting agains the dummies available, and by the end of the training day, there were pieces of them scattered everywhere. And by everywhere, it meant everywhere. There were even a few pieces stuck in the rafters and the ceiling.
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Grimmjow fell asleep knowing that there would only be one person left standing.
And it was going to be him.
