Story name: Entanglement
Chapter published :
November 7th 2009
Rating:
PG 18 (for language)
Pairings:
The story focuses around Ulquiorra and Grimmjow but we're going to see some others showing up too.
Disclaimer:
Please view Author's note at the end for details about chapter edits.
Thank you to ImFreeFallin who Beta'ed this last chapter for me. You were, and are, a saint =D

These characters aren't mine. Sadly. T^T Oh and my Yammy is NOT the Yammy we've been seeing in the manga lately. I had already formed "my" Yammy in my head when I started writing this chapter (which was quite a while ago at this point...) and so, he's slightly out of character? However, it's okay; I'm sure we'll all live to see another day.


"What's the matter with you Ulquiorra? You're grumpier than usual, if that's possible."

The words came from a very broad and tanned man as he lunged at the much smaller and much paler person in front of him. Every Thursday, Yammy Riyalgo would join Ulquiorra for fencing practice and, every Thursday, Yammy Riaglo would lose said fencing practice. It had become almost routine but it would be false to say that the large man had not improved considerably over the years.

"I do not wish to discuss it with you Yammy." Ulquiorra replied evenly as he easily evaded the jab. The large man was one of the few people Ulquiorra could consider - brace yourselves people - a friend. Though the green-eyed man saw him more as an underling and someone who he could control, the truth was that Yammy was one of the few people who truly knew Ulquiorra. Or at least as much as the clown-like man would allow himself to be known. They'd first met as children, and though he'd hated Yammy at first, Ulquiorra had eventually accepted their strange friendship.

"Why? What's got-ya all tense?" Yammy pulled back and prepared himself for another lunge. He'd always been an offensive kind of fighter..."

"Do I need to repeat myself Yammy? I said do not wish to discuss it." While Ulquiorra calmly waited for said attacks. The pale man had always had a fighting style that could be called Yammy's opposite; he preferred to wait until his prey lost patience and made a mistake. He managed to lose less energy this way and it was quick, efficient and simple.

The giant oaf, however, was correct, there was indeed something bothering Ulquiorra. Or rather, someone. This someone shouldn't have been able to put even a slither of a doubt in his mind and yet, that blue haired trash had managed it.

"What do you know about Grimmjow Jaegerjaques?" Though a question, it was said as though it were a statement or even an order for information. Yammy's face was scrunched into ugly confusion and Ulquiorra had to control himself from sighing in annoyance.

"Jaegerjaques?" Yammy finally grunted. "He's the son of some noble. He's violent and arrogant. Rumour has it he's in some kind of secret group."

That's right readers, Yammy is able of intelligible communication. You may now clap. Ulquiorra contemplated the larger man's words before speaking.

"Secret group... hm."

"Yeah. Who knows though."

The image of the blue haired man sprang to his mind as he considered this idea. What secret group? He hadn't seemed the type to work well with others so what was his purpose? Letting his mouth turn down into the smallest of frowns, Ulquiorra sidestepped a lunge that had been taken at him. Yammy huffed at this reaction; even completely lost in his thoughts, Ulquiorra never let his guard down.


A week had passed since the memorable evening of Duke Aizen's ball. His grace had been called away for business and had decided to take Orihime with him. Because of this, even though each evening since had been filled with less elaborate events, organized solely for the social upper crust, the two rivals did not have the misfortune of running into one another. Misfortune here being completely subjective.

Ulquiorra for one, had become very troubled over the amount of thought he had allotted the blue-haired trash. Grimmjow was in no way his equal so why was Ulquiorra perturbed by these thoughts? Perhaps it was simply because no one had ever dared to so blatantly challenge him, and to see the man doing so was strange and foreign to him. However, whatever the reason, the dark-haired man understood that he would have to put an end to his rival and quickly.

Grimmjow, on his part, sacrificed a smaller amount of time thinking about his rival, if only by a marginal amount. While he had no doubts when it came to his assured victory, he was someone miffed that Ulquiorra had gotten a head start on him. Not that it mattered, in the end he would beat that pain in the ass.

And so, another week came and went with no confrontation.

It was on the first day of the third week that letters were sent to many homes in town. Neliel Jaegerjaques took the morning letters from the butler with a smile that faded slightly as she spotted four envelopes, all dressed in elegant script. Each one was addressed to a different member of the household, but she was sure they contained the same thing. She opened hers silently.

You are hereby invited to the tenth annual Garden Party, which is to be held on the fourteenth day of the sixth month on this year, by your host, his Grace, Duke Aizen.

In Neliel's opinion, it was so very like his Grace to send out the invitations two days before and expect each invited member to attend. With a small scowl, she proceeded to the dining room to meet her parents and brother for their morning meal.

"Good morning Father, mother, Grimmjow. Duke Aizen has returned to town." the blue haired girl announced as she entered the room and took her seat across from her brother. He, who had been devouring a plate of toast and jam stopped mid-bite to look up at the bearer of this news.

"Finish chewing, brother." she continued, a small smirk on her face. Said brother simply growled but did so. Their father was the first one to speak.

"How do you know this?"

"The morning letters arrived father." She handed the letters to her father who opened his and studied the script. As Neliel predicted, it matched hers perfectly.

"I see." Was the answer her father gave after a moment of silence. Grimmjow had grabbed his, ripped it open and had also read the invitation.

"About fucking time." he muttered under his breath, earning him a burning look from his mother.

"You will control that tongue at the table young man." Lady Jaegerjaques spoke in a quiet voice, the same one that had petrified her children in their younger years. One did not mess with Lady Jaegerjaques unless they wished death upon themselves.

"... Whatever." was his eventual reply; he didn't dare contradict her.

"I am quite certain that Cirucci will want the family to attend this, and Grimmjow will need the opportunity. Neliel, you will go with your mother and a servant this afternoon to prepare yourselves."

"As you wish father." Neliel agreed, not because she wanted to go, but because it was her duty. Perhaps it was her genetic disposition to hate Aizen and all that was associated with him, or perhaps it was the way they were using her brother as a toy in their game. Whatever the reason, Neliel did not enjoy the idea of this event.

"Perhaps we can find you a chaperon for the evening. I expect your mother and I will be busy with other duties and your brother will be kept busy with his. It would be... convenient to have a person to keep an eye on you. A person that this family can trust." Her father continued. Neliel almost choked on her tea. She wasn't a mere child anymore, and yet he wanted to find her a babysitter? What blasphemy was this? She'd been trained to defend herself from a young age. She was a Jaegerjaques for god's sake!

"-that friend of yours. Yes, have him come to the house this afternoon, Grimmjow."

Friend? Damn it, she hadn't been paying attention and she'd missed the beginning of that sentence.

"I'm sorry father but to whom are you referring?"

"The Jiruga boy."

And just like that, Neliel was seeing red.


"Ulquiorra, I assume the reason you've come to see me is of the utmost importance."

The chill inducing tone was laced into his father's voice as the pale man entered the office.

"It is, father."

"Then speak. I do not have time for this. Make your point, and swiftly."

Ulquiorra nodded, taking another few steps towards the desk where his father stood, placing the simple yet elegant invitation on the surface.

"I thought it necessary to keep you informed." he stated simply, keeping his eyes on the man in front of him.

"Hmm." was the first response he got as the card was opened and read. "Though you may have deemed it necessary, it was unnecessary. I have known about this event since before the invitations went out. It... disappoints me that you were not able to gain this information yourself. Are you not doing your duty, my son?"

If words could slice, Ulquiorra would be in two right now. He was calculating, yes, he was smart, a genius even, but he could not compete with his father. The man always seemed to be two steps in front of him and, though it would never appear on his cold mask, it laced hate and rage into Ulquiorra's heart.

Rage and hate, two things that most thought the man incapable of. In fact, most wondered if either of the Schiffers could feel emotion or if they were simply beautiful, cold robots.

In the case of Lord Schiffer, it may very well be the case. However, in Ulquiorra's case, it was a common misconception. He wanted others to believe that he was a cold, emotionless man; it was his shield, his protection, he made sure it never faltered. However, unlike his father, he was not completely dead, not completely hollow.

Not yet.

In his youth, his father had seen to that.

However, what he hadn't considered, was the simple fact that the world had to keep a balance of good and bad or there would be consequences. This hate that bubbled inside him, hidden and smothered, had no opposing force and would surely consume him one day, as it had his father.

"I apologize father. I will not let a detail get past me again."

"See to it."

The green-eyed man bowed before exiting in the same fashion he'd entered, heading toward his private quarters. As he was the only other soul living in the manor, Ulquiorra had been allotted his own wing and had many rooms to himself, though this was hardly surprising; the Schiffer's had never been in need or want of anything. Their home was beautiful and rivalled only by that of his Grace Aizen and of course, the king. It was immaculately clean, classically white and cold.

Cold, very much like him; it suited him.

And yet, he hated it.

He hated the stark hallways and sounds of servants shuffling through the hidden staircases. They had been built here and there, allowing the workers of the manor to move around unnoticed to avoid disturbing their masters. Everything about the house was very formal and distant, including the interaction between the servants and their masters. That was the way it had always been, that was the way it would always be.


"Cream of the crop, as per usual." one Nnoitra Jiruga spoke as he grabbed an hors d'oeuvre off of a platter and shoved it into his mouth.

Grimmjow shrugged. "A collection of the most pompous fuckers in our sorry excuse for a community who pay to have someone else think for them. Nothing new."

"Guess not. By the way, shouldn't you be chasing after that red head of yours? Slacker." the black-haired man continued, eyeing another food platter that was coming toward them.

"Shouldn't you be babysitting my sister?" the blue haired man countered, causing a snort to come from his friend.

"That brat needs more than a babysitter, she needs a keeper."

"Right." Grimmjow was only half-listening as a head of red hair had caught his attention. "Look, I've got to go work my charm so why don't you quit complaining, keep your eyes, and not your hands, on my sister and stop shoving your god damn mouth with food. Fuck, it's embarrassing being seen with you."

"Someone needs to get laid..." was the muttered reply that Grimmjow barely heard as he walked away. It didn't take long for him to reach his target, and his eyebrows knit together in mild annoyance as a familiar voice picked at his ears.

"It suits you."

"You think so? Thank you, my lord!"

Grimmjow almost growled at this exchange. That dark haired prick definitely had a head start. He'd have to work his magic now, and fast.

"Orihime, Lord Schiffer, what a pleasure to see you both." This sentence he said with his trademark smirk, which was the only thing stopping it from being a very sociable and normal greeting. It wasn't a lie; he was just as pleased to see his rival as he was to see the red head. No, scratch that, the red head was merely the goal. Seeing her was about as exciting to him as seeing that grumpy old man, Baraggan. Mind you, he'd rather look at her than that creepy old fuck but that was another story altogether.

Ulquiorra, on the other hand, was a rival and therefore much more interesting.

People had always said that Grimmjow was a sadistic bastard and... they were mostly right.

Mostly.

"Hm."

"Hello my lord! We were just talking about my new hair clip." she said, using both hands to point to her head. The blue haired man gave an amused chuckle before answering her smoothly.

"Please, feel free to call me Grimmjow."

"Oh! No, my lord. I couldn't possibly..." a blush of embarrassment, the same colour as her hair, broke out across her face.

"Come now, there is no need to be so formal. We can't possibly all be perfectly stoic all the time, isn't that right Lord Schiffer." the challenging smirk had returned to his face as he let his gaze fall on the dark-haired man. He was pleased to see that Ulquiorra's lips were tilted downwards into the mildest of frowns. Still, it wasn't enough for him; Grimmjow needed to see the emotion written across his face. Anger, hate, frustration.

He wanted to force Ulquiorra to bare himself to him.

Oh, and he really wanted to beat him.

Orihime, completely oblivious to the building tension, continued to laugh lightly. She was still blushing when she finally spoke. "Well... if you insist, Grimmjow-sama."

Now that broke his concentration.

"... Sama? Huh?" he asked in confusion.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I always forget that not everyone knows about the Japanese honorifics. My father's family is from Japan and so he taught me them as a child. They are a sign of respect, much like our titles, but do not sound as formal in the English language." the red-haired girl seemed to have recovered from her moment of embarrassment and had decided to open an information library.

Or write a brochure, at the very least.

"So I just thought that if you wished to be called by your name, I could add the honorifics and we could compromise," she finished.

"Uh... Right. Well... if that's what you want." Grimmjow answered, less than smoothly. Honestly, did she have to make everything so difficult?

"I believe the Lady has made that clear through her explanation. Are you incapable of concentrating on the shortest of speeches?" Ulquiorra, who had been quiet up until now, spoke, taking advantage of Grimmjow's moment of hesitation. He earned a growl in return. Before he could reply however, a loud crash distracted them and forcing them, along with the entire room, to search for the source of the noise.

In the corner of the room stood Nnoitra, clearly pushed against a table, covered head to toe in punch and Neliel, holding the punch container in her hand with a furious expression on her face. In the complete silence of the room, her voice rang clear and cold.

"Oops."

And with that, she walked past him, pushing the bowl into his empty hands as she did so, and made her exit. Grimmjow's incredulous face met his friend's and a moment of understanding passed between them.

Nnoitra was so fucked.

But then again, so was Nel.

"I believe that was your sister, was it not?" The dark-haired bastard said, and Grimmjow reluctantly turned around, his face just barely remaining carefully controlled.

"What of it?"

"One can tell much about a person by their family."

"Or their lack of one," he retorted.

Orihime still stood a foot away, ignorant to the conversation going on without her, her attention still focused on the Jiruga man who had now placed the punch bowl on the table.

"The Schiffers are a true noble family; that is more than one can say for the Jaegerjaques name. They cannot even control the actions of one teenage girl. Pathetic."

"Shut the hell up, you bastard." Grimmjow's cap had come unglued and his self-control was fading. He would be thankful for Orihime's obliviousness later.

"Did I hit a nerve?" the smallest of smallest smirks appeared across the pale man's face. No, it couldn't even be called a smirk; it was more the slightest upturning of the corner of his lips. Barely noticeable, but noticed by Grimmjow nonetheless. What the blue haired man didn't understand was that the angrier he got, the more Ulquiorra felt, - yes, felt - satisfied. The need to incite a reaction from the other was very much mutual.

What Grimmjow did next was neither unexpected nor out of character. He took a step toward Ulquiorra, noting on the difference in size. He towered over the dark-haired man and yet Ulquiorra's face still remained perfectly calm and collected. Clearly, there was something wrong with him.

"I'll make this clear, Schiffer. I'm not going to let this go. I'm not going to lose to you and more importantly, I'm going to make your life a living hell. Oh, and you'd better smarten the fuck up and leave my sister out of this."

Ulquiorra stared at the man who towered over him, face inches away from his own.

"You mistake me for someone who cares about your ambitions, trash."

That was all Grimmjow needed. He didn't hesitate before backing up and taking a swing at the black-haired man.


Author's note : First, I'm sorry about how long it took me to get this one released, but I have the next chapter already written, awaiting correction. That'll give me a little bit of time to rally up my muse (I finally flushed out the entire plot of this story and know where it's going. GO TEAM! It's just a matter of linking the ideas together with a bit of muse.)

Oh, and finally, a quick note on chapters. I combined what used to be chapters 2 and 3 so this is the new chapter 3. It just made more sense organizational wise so there you have it.

Oh, and as for the Orihime adding the sama bit... I think that her constant "Kurosaki-kuuuuuun" is an important part of her personality. Since I'm not sure Ichigo will even make it into this thing, I felt the need to add that aspect somehow and... well here you go.