Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, shape, and/or form, own Bleach. Otherwise this wouldn't be a fan-fiction. However, the random human fans/audiences are mine [basically character additions to highlight the story]. I also do not own any of the songs in this chapter, by the way (my creativity has strung out on songs for now).

Author's Note: …I know, I know it's been a little while now, but not nearly as long as last time! And I'm dealing with even more crap right now it's just a mIrAcLe that I am even able to pull this off! Bare with me here, readers! :o) hOnK~

Key

Word—text and/or express on word in the middle of thoughts

Word—thoughts and/or express on word

Word—extreme emphasis on shouting and/or word of "meaning"

WORD—change of scene and/or character shouting

[Number]—change of POV according to Espada rank

A Change in Atmospheres

III

Rejection

A PAIR OF DULLED GREEN EYES CAST DOWN AT TWO PALE HANDS, which had cuts across them and were bleeding profusely. The owner of such beauties couldn't honestly care less, however, for he only tried to find the meaning in why he felt no pain from the wounds. He just…had no tears to spend on such trivial matters. Actually, he never did to begin with—even in his rough past. The side effect of never noting external pain: he received the worst pangs possible when it came to emotional swings. And lately, he had been having a lot of them. He sighed and balled his hands into fists, spreading the crimson liquid onto his finger tips. He couldn't believe it—he just could not BELIEVE that Grimmjow was alive and walking the same ground as he. He had just been alone for far too long and had to remind himself every day—since he had settled onto Earth—that the Sexta was, in fact, dead. Hot tears formed around the rims of his eyes and he bit his bottom, quivering lip in an attempt to choke back loud sobs. The dreaded salt-water spilled over and ran down his cheeks endlessly as he scurried out of the kitchen like an apparition and disappeared down the hallway into the nearest bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and leaned against it, examining his hands through blurred vision. His thoughts were all jumbled up and he felt bile rise up his throat. Just what the hell was wrong with him? It should be easy to pick himself back up—so why was it so hard now? He pushed off of the door and turned to dip his hands under the faucet after turning the knobs to release the cleansing water. He slowly wrung his hands underneath it and gradually picked up the pace aggressively, his tears creating a progressive stream down his soft cheeks. He disregarded the loud knock on the bathroom door completely; all he could really hear was an elongated buzz, from crying so often, pass through his ears, anyways.

"Ulquiorra, please open up," pleaded Yammy behind the wooden barrier, unbeknownst to Ulquiorra. "Your behavior is beginning to worry me." Ulquiorra took a shaky breath and sniffled. Stupid gigai. "We can talk about it if you want…'might help ya' a lil', even." A dreaded silence followed as if Ulquiorra had physically shushed Yammy—until a long sigh escaped Yammy's lips and his retreating 'stomps' resounded down the hall. Ulquiorra backed into the wall behind him and, likewise, slid down onto his rear end, leaving the water running. He buried his torn face into his shaken hands and allowed the memories and inevitable emotions to wash over him for the second time that day, hoping that the crash back to reality would not be as bad as his recent tantrum's results.

10

THE BIG BRUTE HOISTED HIMSELF UP OFF THE COUCH, a sudden feeling of foreboding forming in the stuffy air around him. He knit his furry orange brows together, a bead of sweat appearing on his forehead. He swiped his massive hand across his forehead to remove the salty liquid and peered nervously at the entryway to the kitchen. The dishware-throwing had finally ceased and he had to narrow his gigai's hearing to a sharp status in order to catch drift of the muffled whines and sniffles beyond the open entrance. When Ulquiorra suddenly exited the kitchen and whisked down the hallway to the bathroom, Yammy nearly jumped out of his gigai in surprise. Yammy sighed and attempted to walk in a light manner toward the bathroom, but in vain. His large feet and overall body mass just prevented him from doing so. He could hear the water pour from behind the door when he reached it. Without hesitation, Yammy began pounding on the door. He waited a few seconds for an answer, but when none was received, he spoke aloud without permission. "Ulquiorra, please open up," he pleaded and kind of regretted it; Ulquiorra might just think that he wanted chicken, after all. "Your behavior is beginning to worry me." Yammy lowered his gaze when he heard a small sniffle. The brute really hated it when Ulquiorra became emotional because the guy was never emotional. "We can talk about it if you want…might help ya' a lil', even." He thought that if he offered to be some kind of psychiatrist that Ulquiorra would come out, but only a long silence stole his dream result from him. Well, he did not want this to carry out any longer, so he decided it would be best if he just returned to the living room to chillax before the odd talk show, although alone. Besides—he didn't want his chicken to get cold.

6

IGNORANT TO THE SLAMMING BLACK DOORS BEHIND HIM, Grimmjow continued jiggling his keys and jogging over to his parked Harley. He was now grateful for the stingy mantis's insistence on him taking his own vehicle instead of riding with the pervert. Nnoitra just wanted to be alone with his "pinky" was all, of course. Well it was about time that Grimmjow found a mate to fondle over, and he was more than overzealous about the fact that his one true love was still alive—if the knowledge was not proven false information, of course.

Grimmjow swung his right leg over his motorcycle and did not hesitate to back out the rad bike after he started it and put it into reverse. He switched the gear to drive and revved the motherfucker to its full mileage until he reached the end of the lot. He had to wait for the road to clear—or at least an opening—in order to exit. A White Walsh full of screaming girls yielded for him and he returned the favor by waving to them. Sometimes fame had its perks; he just hoped that they didn't stalk him. Grimmjow sneered at the traffic in front of him and he revved his engine in annoyance, receiving a few glares from the drivers around him. He grimaced and drove around them. He had the tight advantage considering he was on a bike (even though it was illegal). He flicked them off with both hands and flew onward like an expert motorcyclist.

Fuck them. Grimmjow lacked the motivation to voice his comment, though.

He grabbed back on to his handles and hummed, turning on his radio. He increased his speed to the max and continued to drive in between the lanes like a psycho. Yes, he was that impatient. He did mourn for a whole year, after all, and he wanted to fucking see his sexy mate Ulquiorra, already!

In his peripheral vision, however, he caught a glimpse of Nnoitra's black jeep not far from him. Oh no, that motherfucker better not be following me! Grimmjow would cut the Mantis down if he had to, for he was not getting between this! Grimmjow revved his engine again and begged it to go faster and faster until Nnoitra was nowhere to be seen. Grimmjow did not exactly understand just what Nnoitra was trying to get at; his hazy mind only comprehended that the creep was following him. It was kind of funny to Grimmjow, too, considering that not even he was entirely sure himself of his destination. He had a cloudy perception of it based off a random documentary on old castles in the Japan country on the humans' creation they called television. Grimmjow lowered his eyes and tightened his grip on the handles, screeching to a stop when a red light appeared. He didn't have time for such bullshit! Grimmjow glared at the teenage girls crossing the street in front of him. Of course, they swooned when they finally recognized him. He smacked his forehead at their incessant giggles and ran that same hand down his face.

Fuck my life.

5

SNATCHING UP A COFFEE CUP FROM TETSUKI'S FOOD/SNACK CART, Nnoitra Jiruga dumped the boiling contents onto his head and shook his now-wet mop of black hair. The burn helped him to calm down and clear his quickly-tempered mind for more rational thought-processing. He supposed it was a good thing that he had the brainy scientist Szayel on his side. He sighed and smacked his forehead, trying to muster up the best solution for the chaotic situation behind him and also around him on the set. He could tell that Tetsuki was losing her cool, as well as her crew members over trying to calm her. Nnoitra drew his black brows together when a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder. He slowly inclined his head to view the owner: Szayelapporos smiling at him, accompanied by a soft gaze. Nnoitra absolutely loved it when Szayelapporos randomly got out of character like that to calm him; it was cute. He removed Szayelapporos's hand from his shoulder and took it in his, lacing their fingers together. Szayelapporos's smile only grew from the rare sweetness he was bestowing. Nnoitra walked over to the exit hand-in-hand with his mate, when Tetsuki noticed them.

She rose, shoved her crew members aside and ran over to them in a hurry. She grabbed a hold of their shoulders to halt them, huffing. "And just where are you two going?!"

Rolling his eyes, Nnoitra turned his head to peer behind him and shrugged her hand off. He was just so sick of the woman's antics. "Look, Miss Hostess, we don't mean to be rude, but our lead band member just ran off your set and we're kind of worried here. So if you would, please let us go after the knuckle-head." Dear Lord, he just wanted to retch at how nice he was being to her. Nnoitra Jiruga was, in all aspects, not a nice person at all—and especially to humans! Szayelapporos squeezed his hand for reassurance. Nnoitra slowly exhaled as Tetsuki stepped back from them. He needed to cool his jets.

"Calm down there, boy, I just wanted to know if my crew and I could come. I mean, don't you think this would be a fun adventure?" She lifted her brows and placed her hands on her hips. Szayelapporos slapped his hand against his forehead; Nnoitra twirled a sticky strand of hair to distract himself.

"In my jeep, I'm assuming?" Nnoitra groaned when she nodded, then motioned for her and her crew to follow. He retrieved his keys from his pocket on the way there. He jiggled them for fun, also swaying Szayelapporos's and his locked hands back and forth. He turned his head to his right and gave Szayelapporos a perverse grin. The act resulted in Szayelapporos punching him on his right arm.

/

THE FAMOUS TETSUKI ROLLED HER EYES BEHIND THE TWO WEIRDOS, then glanced back at her crew to make sure they had their cameras ready. Of course they did not, why would they? "Get your cameras together, you three nimrods! Don't you know this is going to be big for us?" Tetsuki hiss-whispered to them, revealing her irritation for once. "It's like filming a romance movie, for crying out loud!" She shook her head, stopping when the merry couple did. She wanted to vomit when they exchanged a kiss before parting ways. Well, at least the pink-haired freak had the decency to take the back seat instead of the passenger.

The aggravated hostess skipped on over to the passenger side and opened the door, sliding on in. Tetsuki shut the door beside her, then peered into the back seats to make sure her crew set up the cameras right. She nodded her head in approval at their aim, and then turned her attention to the building in front of her, wondering why she still saw it. "Are you going to drive this thing or what, Mr. Jiruga?" She narrowed her almond eyes at the lanky man.

"I was waiting for your signal." Nnoitra looked at her with a 'durr' expression before starting the engine and putting it into reverse, backing out rather fast and going into drive to speed his way out of the maze-like parking lot. Tetsuki put on her seat belt with crazed eyes and flipped down the passenger mirror to check for any damage to her perfect curls. She smiled at her gorgeous reflection before flipping up the mirror—only to catch how fast the cars flew by. Or rather, how fast they drove past the cars. Her eyes nearly popped out of her sockets and she lightly punched Nnoitra on the arm.

"Are you crazy?! This speed will get us in trouble with the po-po!" she exclaimed, flabbergasted.

"Careful: we're on in 3…2…1…"

That got her to snap out of it. "Hello!" The hostess beamed into the camera behind her. "This is Kuroyanagi Tetsuki once again and I'm here still with the Espada Reborn band members, currently chasing down the band's popular lead singer after he ran off the set before our commercial break." Tetsuki looked in front of her and noticed that Grimmjow was still out of sight. She looked back to the camera and out on a plastic, reassuring grin before speaking again. "As you can clearly see, Jaegerjaques-san remains invisible to us, but I am positive that our fearless driver—who also happens to be the guitar/bass player—will find him shortly." She held out her microphone to Nnoitra and motioned beneath the camera for her crew to angle it so that Nnoitra could be in view. "Can you give us any kind of background information on why he would react this way, Jiruga-san?" Tetsuki watched the tall guy roll his eyes in response before sighing.

"Look. I never knew that Grimmjow ever even had a relationship with this guy and quite frankly, I don't blame him; dude was hot. Except for the fact that he had little-to-no emotion—scratch that, he literally had no fucking emotions whatsoever. But I guess Grimmjow obviously learned to see past that. Anyways, due to certain circumstances that no one wants to hear the details about, all of our friends died. Grimmjow saved Szayel and I by getting help for us, but the others were nowhere to be found. We all just assumed they were dead." Tetsuki had nodded her head throughout the whole thing, pretending to understand. She watched Nnoitra make a right turn onto a vacant street and drive around in a semi-circle only to hit that same road again. However, she gasped when a motorcycle passed them by on the street they were on. The guy had shocking light blue hair. "Now that I think about it," Nnoitra started again. Tetsuki found it hard to pay attention to him when he had caught up to Grimmjow. "Grimmjow has been acting a little too out-of-character and distant this whole year. No wonder; it all adds up now." Tetsuki hugged herself then, preparing for the chill when Nnoitra suddenly opened the window. "H-hey there, Grimm-kitty! Whatcha doin' flyin' down the road at these speeds? You wanna see 'im that badly, eh?" Tetsuki narrowed her eyes in disgust as Nnoitra laughed and teased Grimmjow.

"Fuck you, spoon-head." Tetsuki watched Grimmjow flick them off then kick up his speed to a whole new level as he zoomed away. She covered her mouth after watching their mileage track hit the limit and Nnoitra's deep scowl.

"Oh no, that fucker didn't."

/

A LIGHT FLICKERED ABOVE PARTED BRUNETTE HAIR, prompting a man to shout, "Can't believe I gotta change those fuckers again. Long bulbs ain't nothin' compared to the small ones. Those bitches always were more efficient." The man who spoke this frowned. He then returned to his small gas station building, cursing along the way. The man with parted hair, currently sweeping the empty lot beneath the flickering station light, shook his head at his boss's complaint. The guy always did have a head full of obnoxious reasons. The brunette wiped at his forehead, for it was beginning to perspire, and looked up at the old TV set that hung above him. It was always set to the news station for curious—or bored—customers to view while they filled their gas tanks. It also almost always brought in good feedback, too, and the cost was slim.

Bob Saggot—the brunette man—was shocked into silence after what relayed on the news, his whistling long since ceased. It had only just hit him that this crazed famous person would be passing his boss's station if the destination spoken by the anchor proved true. That same individual would also most likely be making a rest stop there if he was doing the speeds Hiroshima-sama reported. Bob dropped his broom and ran to where he kept his belongings during every shift to find his notebook. He was not going to miss this once-in-a-lifetime chance to get the bluenette singer's autograph, or if his name wasn't Bob Saggot! And as if on cue, as the middle-aged man jogged back outside, a blue Harley pulled up to pump number four. The blue-haired fanatic—or at least to him he was—jumped off his steed and glared on ahead. He had that same scowl etched onto his tanned face that women went crazy over. They described him as a "deep character" because of it. Bob thought he was simply an angry man. Although, math teachers despised Bob Saggot, aka a certain Mr. Stevens, but that was besides the point to him. The middle-aged man watched Grimmjow grasp the pump line after unlocking his gas lid, then set the pump inside the designated hole. Bob crept around the station and gazed at the celebrity in awe. The Wild Cat's eyes flickered to meet Bob's, causing Bob to squeak in surprise.

"The fuck you gawkin' at, man?!" Grimmjow growled out. Bob shuffled his feet, timidly tense under his menacing glare.

"U-um," Bob managed. "D-do you need a-any help w-with that, S-s-s-s—"

"Don't hurt yourself, moron." Grimmjow cut him off, and then groaned, running a hand through his blue, tangled tufts of hair. "I'm perfectly able to do this on my own, I don't know 'bout you"

Bob froze in place, stiffening at his notion. Was he? Apparently not, because Grimmjow had to finish his thought for him:

"You want an autograph, right?"

Bob simply nodded. The young celebrity sighed, and then pulled the handle to reattach it to the pump, being quick to shut the gas lid. He shoved his hands into his pockets, walking with a slouch toward Bob. "Now let me get something straight, first" Grimmjow started. "You have to give me some intel as to where this motherfuckin' castle is I'm lookin' for, a'ight?" He staggered to a stop before the short man. Bob Saggot gulped and frantically searched his brain.

Wait a minute…"It was a castle you said, right?" Bob miraculously got a hold of himself and spoke. Grimmjow only grunted in response. "It's actually right along the back road you were following. Keep on going along it until you spot a tall black tower beyond the dark trees to your left." He placed his hands on his hips, feeling accomplished. He looked up at the taller male to find a coy smirk playing on his lips. "Wh-what?" Grimmjow's smile bloomed into an arrogant grin, and he chuckled.

"Just give me your pad," he half-barked. Bob shuddered at the order, and then thrust his pen and notebook at the maniac. Said maniac slid his hands out of his pockets and took the supplies from him. "What's your name, Kid?" Kid? Bob furrowed his eyebrows, a little annoyed.

"It's Bob Saggot." Grimmjow nodded and scrawled out his signature with a few extra lines before handing it back.

"Thanks, man," the Leo coughed out, then jogged back over to his motorcycle. He sped off down the road before what Grimmjow wrote hit Bob Saggot:

My advice, human? Quit that shitty job a' yours—it's what's holdin' ya back.

What the fuck did he mean by human?!

4

AN IVORY HAND RAN THROUGH EBONY STRANDS OF HAIR, shaking still. Ulquiorra let out an exasperated sigh and turned the bathroom door knob, sluggishly making his way down the hallway. He peered around the corner into the living room at Yammy, but was quick to flatten himself against the wall before the Brute spotted him. It was a good thing that Yammy always was a little slow, because the gigais made it pretty hard to enact his most common assets—such as sneaky maneuvers, for one. However, Yammy was more stubborn than Ulquiorra thought, for the Brute actually rose from the couch and began making his way toward the hallway. Ulquiorra widened his eyes and sprinted like a ninja to make a sharp right to the back stairwell. As the heavy footsteps drew near, he ascended the staircase in a mousey manner, alert.

"Ulquiorra!" Yammy barked. The footsteps ceased. "You can't keep this up forever, you know." A heavy sigh echoed around the corridor. "Yeesh, and I thought Grimmjow was the child…" Ulquiorra hissed at the mention of his lost love. Yammy seemed to have picked up on his response, too, because the lard's footsteps began again but below the staircase. Ulquiorra backed up to the 'window' in the circular section and watched the stairwell with peerless eyes. Sure enough, Yammy was within his line of sight in approximately ten seconds. The aforementioned "child" glared at the brute apprehensively, calculating ways to side-step Yammy. However, he always made for a better door than a window, quite literally.

Ulquiorra sighed, exasperated. "Alright, Yammy—I give in." He looked at him, eyes hard as rock once again. From Yammy's perspective, Ulquiorra appeared to have regained his original, fearless composure. "Now, what do you want?"

Yammy cleared his throat before answering. "Nothing anymore." He turned around abruptly on his heels, but looked back before treading down the staircase (in a loud manner). "Just come hang with me by the TV screen again…whenever!" he called after him nonchalantly.

Ulquiorra now stood alone in the cubbyhole, taking in what had just occurred. Yammy had some odd behavior as of late, leaving Ulquiorra curious over just how long his surreal attitude was going to last. He stored away those thoughts to focus on leaving the vacant tower he still stood in, then to clean his now-disastrous kitchen next. The Quarta used little effort in locating and descending the narrow stairwell, and didn't even so much as bat an eye at the Cero brute scavenging through his nearly-empty fridge when he arrived at his destination. "Yammy." Ulquiorra halted behind him, causing Yammy to cease his hunt.

"'Sup, Ulquiorra~?" he slurred, making it sound more like a statement rather than a question.

"Go gallivanting outside and away from my fridge. You know that the kitchen is off-limits to you, so you will exit immediately." Ulquiorra snapped in sentence, but not actually intone seeing as he was impassive, after all.

"But what about my chi—"

"On the contraire, I recall giving you specific instructions beforehand that you are to wait on your human product until I personally serve it to you. Am I not correct?" Ulquiorra interrupted the savage, clearly irritated now. What had gotten into him lately? Grimmjow had definitely changed his cold character…

"Alright, fine." Yammy pouted. "But ya' betta' make it snappy!" He rose to his feet, then exited the kitchen and out into his favorite living room.

Ulquiorra shook his head and shut the fridge. Such a tyrant; who is he to order me? He scanned the kitchen with dulled eyes, examining to just what extent of cleaning he would have to take. Unfortunately his thoughts were scattered once again when Yammy came bounding back into the kitchen.

"Ulquiorra!" The brute gripped onto the edge of the wall. "Someone's at the door!"

Well at least he has enough sense not to answer it, I'll give him that much, Ulquiorra thought to himself then casually passed Yammy. He turned down the corridor, then made a final right turn and walked up to the big, mahogany double doors. Ulquiorra opened one of them just enough to show himself only and obscure the background. "Who is i…" He froze mid-sentence, his face draining (of what little color it did have) upon viewing the mysterious visitor.

6

SPEEDING DOWN THE DARK AND EMPTY ROAD, Grimmjow turned on the radio on his Harley. Instantaneously, his band's first hit blared around him. He grunted in response and was about to turn it, when an obvious caliginous tower caught his eye. It reigned over the forest of trees to his left. Grimmjow looked back ahead and made his motorcycle speed up before returning his focus to the trees. Sure enough, the tower was attached to a very intimidating castle; but nothing fazed the courageous Sexta, of course. Especially if the rumors rang true and it was merely his long-lost lover who claimed ownership, not some trepid ghost.

Eventually, he reached a black one-way road between the abundant forests. Grimmjow didn't even bother to turn on his left turn-signal, simply making a sharp turn immediately upon approaching it. There was no need to use it, after all, considering he was the only one out. He furrowed his brows and followed the narrow street way. Growing anxious for his arrival and more agitated at the choice of song now, he had half a mind to just ditch the Harley as well as his gigai altogether and just sonído his sorry ass to the doorstep. However, he only turned off the offending radio and continued onward. The mere thought of that creepy hat-and-clogs guy coming after him once he sensed his reiatsu renewed his patience.

Grimmjow finally reached the gate entrance, with much mirth, and switched off the ignition. Thrusting his keys into his pocket, he put the Harley's kickstand up before scaling the metal gate. He knew it was rude, but his bad-boy mind couldn't care less. Grimmjow jumped down from the very top, nearly landing on his knees, and made a straight-forward dash for the door, mind dead-set on greeting his beloved. The speed he used would have made a national track-star weep. Grimmjow eased to a breathy halt before the entrance. He leaned against one of the mahogany doors to let the humanized body catch up with him, then banged on the door. He waited for around eighteen milliseconds before proceeding to bang again, impatient. He crossed his arms and tapped his foot until the door actually groaned open to reveal a slightly disheveled Ulquiorra.

"Who is i…" His monotonous voice ceased and his gigai's skin turned snow white as he gave Grimmjow his favorite deer-caught-in-the-headlights look. A mischievous grin now played on the Sexta's lips.

"Aw, don't stop talking now—I want to hear more of that ever-emotionless voice of yours I missed so much." Grimmjow pressed his palm against the second door and leaned a little closer to flash his famous toothy grin down at Ulquiorra's small form. "But do keep that look on your face 'cause you know how much I love that, too~" he cooed. "You going to let me in now, babe? Anytime now would be nice as you should be aware that we have a lot of cat—"

"No." Ulquiorra cut him off and blatantly said, slamming the door in Grimmjow's face. His heart nearly split in two at Ulquiorra's icy words. What…?!

E/N: I can't even BEGIN to apologize for how insanely slow I am at updating this…but if it helps, I promise you that I am very determined to see this story through to the end, readers! :oD ***NOW EDITED! BE HAPPY, WOO!