Well it has been a while since my last update to this story! This chapter took me a while, despite the fact that its such a simple chapter. It's a transition chapter and those are always tough for me. Anyway! Enjoy this latest installment! :)
Drying blood looks terrible on a kelly green couch…
That was pretty much what my thoughts had boiled down to since I'd decided to tune out Captain Composure nearly fifteen minutes ago, concluding that the man was so far up his own ass he'd probably never see sunlight again. Really…did I need a fucking twenty-minute lecture on how "gracious" Soul Society was being in allowing me to live? Gracious? Gracious! I had single-handedly (okay Kurosaki helped) saved all their asses from certain gloom and doom at the hands of a megalomaniac intent on reshaping the cosmos, and they were being "gracious". It was enough to make me want to dig a hole in the sand and put my head into it until my brain stopped spinning from their stupidity.
Ingrates. Furthermore…
"--and I thought I might buy myself a nice pink apron and bake snickerdoodles tomorrow."
Wait, what?
Glancing upwards, I was somewhat surprised to note that every single person in the room (and there were quite a few) was staring at me with varying degrees of annoyance on their faces. Apparently, my lack of interest had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the congregation. I shifted uncomfortably for a moment, forcing down the hiss of pain that accompanied my every move, and crossed my ankle over my knee nonchalantly. Or at least I hoped it looked nonchalant. I had my doubts.
"Shall I continue from where I left off or where you lost attentiveness?" The sixth squad captain (I really had no idea what his name was) glared at me from behind his long, girly eyelashes, eyes shooting daggers in my general direction. But really, what more did I need to hear?
I was officially King of Hueco Mundo, but under…conditions. Conditions that I didn't want to follow and didn't want to obey. Conditions I wouldn't follow and wouldn't obey. They didn't know who the fuck they were dealing with if they thought that I would lap up whatever meager offerings they were dangling in front of my face as a peace offering. If I was going to be king, it was going to be under my own terms and my own judgment, not placating some pompous shinigami bitches that I'd rather rip out their sternums than listen to. I'd had my fill of that self-important crap with my previous "boss".
"I'd rather you didn't talk at all." I sniffed haughtily, rolling my eyes with disgust. "You're really a whackjob if you think that just because you stuffed shirts have decided that I should be king that everyone in Hueco Mundo is going to feel the same way."
"Why shouldn't they? They follow the one with the most power, do they not?" Captain Snore replied with a raised eyebrow. "And you are the only remaining espada, thereby making you the most powerful hollow in the world. Does this not entitle you to be king?"
"It's gonna take more than a little sweet talk to get into my pants angel-puss." I looked away then, out the window towards some kids playing in the street. Angry reiatsu was flaring all around the room, some from the dark-haired captain in front of me, some from Kurosaki who was sitting close by fussing over my bandages and the mess I was making of his furniture. He would have made a good nurse if he'd actually known what the fuck he was doing. As it was he was just bugging the living shit out of me, reaching forward every few seconds to poke and prod at my quickly healing wounds.
But really, I was just distracting myself from the obviousness of the truth. Though it may have been nothing but bullshit and flattery, the fact remained that I actually was the most powerful hollow in the world. Did that make me king? As much as the idea once appealed to me, now that I was actually presented with the prospect it seemed like a lot of work. A lot of work I didn't really want to do. I mean, once upon a time I'd done nothing but wake up, chase other hollows around, eat souls, and go to bed…not exactly a complicated existence.
Being king sounded like a lot of wasted effort for no real payoff. Unless you counted the ass-kissing. I liked being on the receiving end of ass-kissing.
"Will you stop being an asshole for two minutes and listen to what they're saying!" Ichigo yelled suddenly, his eyebrows drawing close together as he scowled at me. I turned my blank face to him slowly, leaning forward until our noses were within inches of touching and I could see the apprehension flicker through his gaze. Since when did he think he could talk to me like that?! Since when did we go from beating the shit out of each other to squabbling like a married couple? It was annoying, frustrating, bothersome, vexing, and all around retarded.
"I do not think you just said that to me," I whispered, feeling my skin heat up slightly from the sheer frustration of having him near me. Everything about the boy dug straight under my skin and burned, from his condescending attitude to his hair the color of a mandarin orange. Every single thing about him made my fingers itch to choke the life out of his body. He could have done nothing but breath across the street in my general direction and I would have wanted to beat him into a puddle of sloppy human jello. That's how bad I hated him. Thankfully, from the look of it, the feeling was mutual.
Without warning he was on his feet, dragging me to my own with a near agonizing grip on my forearm. What the fuck?! Before I had time to protest the two of us were standing in his pristine kitchen, blood trailing down my calves to puddle on the white tile floor below. I should have passed out from blood loss by now. Kurosaki stared at me for what seemed like an eternity, his reiatsu becoming a tangible thing in the room, heavy and thick around me. He was angry, violently so, and it was almost a comforting presence to me after so much mental uncertainty. Something familiar. It was nice to know that some things never changed.
"I never should have convinced them to let you live…never," he spat, taking two steps towards me, his voice quivering he was so angry, eyes flashing dangerously. "You don't get how close you are to dying, you're such a fucking idiot. I should paint the walls with your blood and save them the trouble of doing it!"
"You should have just left me alone when we were even." I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned my ass against his kitchen table. In reality it was mostly because I was starting to have trouble staying upright due to blood loss, but thankfully it just made me look badass and cool. I was good at looking badass and cool. "You're the one who turned this into a clusterfuck of complications, so don't go blaming me for your own stupidity."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Kurosaki cocked his head at me suddenly, his anger gone in a flash to be replaced with dumbfounded curiosity. How did he do that? When I was really furious with something (and that happened pretty often), it didn't usually go away until I was coated in someone else's blood and picking my teeth with their femur. So it confused me utterly that his anger could drain away so effortlessly…I would have almost said I was jealous, but I wasn't that sort of guy so it obviously wasn't jealousy.
I slapped my hand over my eyes, willing the murderous intent to go down so that I could speak without raising my voice and draw every shinigami in the house into the kitchen. It was a struggle though. Kurosaki pushed every single button I had, and it routinely forced me to delve into the reserves of self-restraint that I didn't even know I possessed. I wasn't exactly the master of my own emotions after all. I kind of just did whatever felt good since that's what being a hollow was all about. Maybe I could count to ten? Twenty? Sixty million?
This was never going to work.
"You're a fucking airhead," I peeked from between my ring and pinky finger, shaking my head frustratedly. "You saved me, I saved you. We were even. Now we're not and I can't kill you knowing I owe you like that. Get it?"
"No…and I'm not stupid! Your logic is just warped!" He scowled at me, looking every bit the sixteen-year-old boy he was. "What kind of person leaves a man to die when they saved his life?"
"We're enemies Kurosaki! E-n-e-m-i-e-s. I have, and probably will again, try to kill your friends…what kind of person leaves their enemies alive to hunt their loved ones?"
"Don't threaten my friends, Grimmjow."
The air in the room shifted fractionally, became almost humid around me, and for the briefest moment I saw a hint of black flash through the brat's eyes. There was someone else home there, just beyond the shining black horizon of that boy's steady gaze, a deadly presence lurking in the alleyways of his mind. I bet that darkness and I might have gotten along pretty well if the shinigami had allowed it out of its hole. Ah well…shoulda, woulda, coulda…
Long fingers pressing firmly against the middle of my chest brought me back to the present moment, those steadily-becoming-more-scary eyes trying to bore holes into my skull. Kurosaki was angry; a cool, rolling anger that flash froze the air around us as his reiatsu began to eat all the oxygen in the general vicinity. The kid was a monster…doing all this shit without even thinking about it. I was starting to have trouble breathing, my palms becoming vaguely sweaty, but regardless of all that I kept our eyes locked firmly together. He had nice eyes, especially when he was pissed off like this. Reddish brown like clay dirt dug from deep in the ground.
But I wasn't an ass-pirate or anything so it wasn't like I was looking at him like "that".
"Listen to me Grimmjow Jeagerjaques," he whispered, his voice sounding vaguely distorted and off-kilter. Underwater. "I don't know what kind of bullshit you think you're pulling, but your life…it's mine now. I saved it, so it's mine. Get it?"
I most certainly did not.
Before he could say another word the two of us were through the nearest window, glass scattering around our bodies as we tussled in the grass behind his house. My wounds were like nothing now compared to the rush of my anger surging through my blood, set aflame by his words. His. His. His? His!? Never. Absolutely never. I would have much rather died, been burned alive, had my lungs eaten by little rats, anything rather than having my life laying so firmly in the palm of the one person in the world I could not stand. In some twisted way, this was probably divine justice coming to bite me in the ass, but I didn't care. I didn't want to belong to anyone anymore…I wasn't going to be someone's possession ever again!
His body struggled furiously beneath mine, hands reaching up to wrap purposely around my throat even though he was obviously at a disadvantage. Perfect eyes were shining angrily up at me, pure gold set in a sea of black, the monster inside that pretty face breaking free of its imprisonment for the whole world to see. Or at least me. I loved this side of Kurosaki, so much like myself, so enraptured in the bliss of fighting and the sheer bloodlust trickling into his fingers as they clenched around my neck savagely. It was almost like a beautiful painting come to life, and I found myself wanting to just sit and stare at him for a while.
Too bad I was losing air fast and Kurosaki was looking more feral by the moment.
Wrenching backwards, I felt a growl rumble up from my throat as I lunged forward once again, my canines sinking into Kurosaki's neck near the windpipe and holding on as tightly as I could. His struggles became even more impassioned against me, the sweet taste of copper rushing against my tongue as voices began to ring up around me from all directions. His friends were coming to save him, but no one seemed to be grabbing at either one of us as we scuffled together like the barbarians we pretty much were.
What the fuck was up?
I felt the kidou hit me before I could react, watching in stunned silence as Kurosaki was hit with a similar spell, his body going rigid underneath me even while his eyes sparkled with fury. My jaws slackened their deathgrip on the soft flesh between my teeth as my body fell in a heap down into the grass, breaths becoming calm despite the fact that my body was rushing with adrenaline and I was anything but calm. The two of us glared at each other as we were hauled to our feet, unable to actually move our bodies so we were pretty much dead weight to the people who held us.
"You two are absolute brutes!" the small girl with the black hair shouted, smacking Kurosaki hard upside his face. It sort of looked like it hurt. A lot. I got to find out first hand about five seconds later when that hand came around to my own face, the slap stinging a little…though not as much as her hand from the way she recoiled and looked down at her palm. Hah! Take that tiny bitch! Iron skin, remember?
"That will be more than enough of that." A tall man with white hair (and eyebrows that didn't match…weird) walked up through the group, surveying us with a smile that I knew had to be fake. He was one of those kinds of people who would smile while he stabbed you between the eyes and apologize while you twitched and died on the ground. I didn't like him. Granted, I didn't really like anyone, but I particularly disliked this guy. His fake smile reminded me of Aizen…and anything associated with that man was really enough to raise the hair on my neck.
The spell was slowly beginning to wear off, allowing me to pull myself away from the arms that held me and stand on my own, glancing over Kurosaki who was pressing his hand up to the bloody wound on his neck. I grinned over at him and he scowled at me, snorting dismissively before turning to look away. Apparently the fight had been slapped out of him. Who knew the little tart had that kind of magic sitting in her hand.
"No more discussion," the white-haired man continued, that fake smile faltering as he spoke. "You, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, are the official king of Hueco Mundo. And as such I have been permitted to treat with you. However, as we need our governing body to approve such measures, the actual diplomacy must wait until the entire Central 46 has been reformed."
"And what does that mean for me?" I asked suspiciously. "What am I supposed to be doing in the meantime?"
"Getting Hueco Mundo all cleaned up, of course!" He smiled again, broad and annoying. Suddenly I had the urge to break something expensive, maybe something made of crystal, but the Kurosaki family apparently didn't own anything that would work. Fucking cheapskates. "And while you're at it, learning the niceties of being king! And we have just the person to help you! I'm sure you two will get along quite nicely since you're already so close!"
Okay, now I was really really suspicious. I wasn't "close" to anyone. My distrust must have showed because everyone in the room suddenly took a step backwards as though I were about to blow up another wall or something. That actually sounded pretty good, blowing something up. I wasn't made for this sort of "talking" bullshit. I was more an action sort of guy. And I was certainly no diplomat. No one in Hueco Mundo was going to listen to me. Especially when I had absolutely no idea what the fuck I was talking about.
"Oh…and who would that be?" I pushed my hair back from my face, picking at a bit of glass that was stuck in between the strands.
"Why, you were just gnawing on him! And you must like one another at least somewhat if you're willing to save each other's lives over and over again."
"What?!" Both our voices rose in unison, gawking at each other with what had to be equally shocked expressions.
Yeah, this was divine punishment biting me in the ass.
I wasn't sure what Kurosaki had done to deserve it…but it looked like we had plenty of time to figure that out.
Fuck. Being king sucked already.
Thanks to everybody who sticks with me even though i'm a horribly slow writer! Happy Holidays everyone, may your holiday season be peaceful. :)
