Angina/Symphony


Chapter 4

Moondance


Through scornful declarance and luminous eyes

The shadows enveil with the glorious night

Trespassing the sunset like thou hast before

Entreating the daylight to rage nevermore

Angina striking Elysium.

-Angina, Tristania


That bastard Ulquiorra.

Grimmjow glared at nothing in particular. What kind of fuckin' idiot is he? he thought to himself, annoyed.

At times he thought that Ulquiorra was more human than Hollow, as impossible as he knew that was. Then Grimmjow would look at the Fourth Espada, and be reminded that Ulquiorra was completely soulless.

No being with a soul could follow Aizen's will so completely, so devoid of any feelings of its own.

In Grimmjow's thoughts, his creator was not named as Aizen-sama, but simply Aizen. Aizen had created him and the other Arrancar, it was true. Aizen had merged with the Hougyoku, Aizen ruled Las Noches and Hueco Mundo. Aizen was as good as a god, with the powers of a god, but there was one thing Aizen would never be able to change.

Aizen was a Shinigami, and Hollows did not accept Shinigami as their masters. At least Grimmjow did not. In all honesty, the only person he would ever be able to see as his master - his king, even - was himself.

For the most part Grimmjow didn't object to following Aizen's orders. Aizen had made him stronger, and Grimmjow was grateful for that, as grateful as he was capable of being.

But Grimmjow Jaggerjack, the Sexta Espada, did object to the necessity of taking orders from the likes of Ulquiorra Schiffer. More than anything he hated being inferior to Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra, who seemed to take pleasure in relinquishing his freedom. Ulquiorra, who adhered to Aizen's every command with nothing save silent, obedient consent. Ulquiorra, who seemed to have forsaken his Hollow side for the sake of logic and his precious Aizen-sama.

It made Grimmjow sick, and so did the fact that Ulquiorra hadn't even bothered to kill this Kurosaki Ichigo kid.

He isn't a threat? Fuck that shit. And fuck Ulquiorra, and fuck Aizen. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.

The Garganta closed behind them, and Grimmjow turned back to glance at his Fracción. 'Kill anyone with the slightest shred of reiatsu!' he ordered.

It had been a while since Grimmjow had had a good fight. The moon was high and clear, and the Sexta Espada lifted his head. He tilted his face to the sky of the material world, and thought.

He hoped Ulquiorra had been wrong about Kurosaki Ichigo. Grimmjow didn't want this to end quickly.

He grinned, feeling the shift of reiatsu as his Fracción performed their Sonido. Grimmjow knew that they knew him well enough to leave him the strongest opponent. He could sense them nearby, as well as their opponents. The Fracción were closing in on their prey.

They would finish them soon. His Fracción had never been taught restraint, or mercy.

Neither of those were attributes Grimmjow himself possessed. Unlike Ulquiorra, he was a true Espada.

'I'm coming for you, Kurosaki Ichigo,' he hissed under his breath.

One thing was certain - the Soul Reaper wasn't going to survive the night. Grimmjow hoped to at least get a decent fight out of him first, though.

The moon shone ascendant overhead. Grimmjow barely noticed it. He'd never been one for all that poetic shit. Grimmjow only paid attention to what he could see, and smell, and touch.

And, in the case of tonight, kill.

Grimmjow wasn't worried about retribution on Aizen's part. He was only doing what Ulquiorra was supposed to have done. Aizen wouldn't punish one of his Espada for killing a child Shinigami that might grow up to be his equal someday. Even if a punishment for his actions was likely, Grimmjow didn't fear it. Grimmjow Jaggerjack didn't recognise the concept of fear. He ignored it, just as he ignored the concept of having a master that wasn't himself, just as he ignored the concept of Aizen as his lord.

Something moved behind him, some distance away. Grimmjow turned. All he saw was a streetlight, the entrance to an alley. It was probably some animal. In any case, he couldn't sense any reiatsu.

In the possibility that some human had seen him - which was unlikely - the lack of detectable reiatsu meant that he or she couldn't possibly be a match for Grimmjow. Even if that was possible, Grimmjow didn't particularly give a fuck.

He was no Shinigami, with their reiatsu limits to avoid disturbing the human souls. Human souls existed only for him to devour.

And Grimmjow, along with the rest of his kind - the true Hollows, not the Shinigami pretender scum like Ulquiorra Schiffer - was always hungry.

He grinned again, exposing his teeth, which were long and sharp even in his usual form. He could sense Kurosaki Ichigo's reiatsu nearby, strong but unstable.

It reminded Grimmjow of himself.

'First you, then Ulquiorra,' he murmured under his breath. He walked towards his objective, not using Sonido. Sonido was a battle technique, not a means of transport.

Perhaps he would use Sonido in his fight with Kurosaki Ichigo, perhaps not. Perhaps Grimmjow would draw the fight out, but not too long. Already the material world tired him. His desire for a fight was tempered only slightly by a desire to return to Hueco Mundo.

Well, he would return to Hueco Mundo soon enough.

Grimmjow looked at the house in front of him, and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Soon his blade would dance, leaving its bloody trail all over Kurosaki Ichigo.