Enjoy~!
The day would come when Aizen would regret ever laying his hands upon the orange haired civilian. Grimmjow made it his not so silent vow, his mantra. He chanted it over and over in his head. Too enraged to actually form words, it came out as an aggressive, rumbling snarl as he flashed his sharpened teeth toward where he knew his unwanted leader sat behind the thick barrier of the training ring.
The ring it's self looked the same as it had before the soldier had tried shattering his way through it; tinted and mirrored in a way that the occupants couldn't see out but the observers could still see in. The concrete flooring held the old stains of past fights and the air was filled with the grunts and growls and footsteps of battling men, the bray of hounds deadened by the thick glass separating the ring from where guards stood at the ready should anything go wrong.
Grimmjow snarled again as he watched, his ice blue eyes taking in every motion, every twitch of muscle the combatants made. His wicked teeth snagged in his gag, jaw clenched tight enough to make the muscle of his neck strain while the sharpened tips of his teeth worked on slicing through the rubber. His cynical, vivid gaze blazed and danced above the top edge of his muzzle, bubbling with his anger and his deadly promise. Arms firmly secured by his harness, he planted his bare feet against the concrete and surged forward, his corded body straining tight against the chains holding him in place. The guards bracing on the other side of those chains cursed as they hauled backward, leaning their body weights against the struggling soldier as well as putting all the muscle they had into keeping him still. Aizen didn't want him in the fight just yet.
From the other side of the ring, safely on the outside of the fighting area, Aizen folded his arms across his chest as he watched the civilian barely dodge one of his opponent's attacks. As expected, another frenzy of snarling filtered through the round chamber with more aggression than a pack of his attack dogs, but it wasn't Sexta he was busy watching and observing.
He pitted the civilian against Octava, knowing the pink haired soldier wouldn't go against his decree and harm the man, but still give Ichigo a good fight. It would also allow the science oriented soldier the opportunity to gauge any change in the orange haired man's abilities, strength, even his attitude and mannerisms first hand.
The two danced in the ring and it was clear the medic-soldier was more bating and playing with his prey rather than taking the training seriously. He had been rather surprised when Ichigo had actually managed to land a decent blow on the soldier. All in all, the young man held his own surprisingly well for a mere civilian. Aizen had found out he had taken a few martial arts classes when he was younger and it showed in his movements and the way he watched his opponent. Still, Ichigo didn't do the damage he had wanted and expected from the civilian. Not after Octava and Mayuri had worked on him.
Aizen turned to look over his shoulder at his scientist, raising a single, sculpted brow ever so slightly. "He doesn't appear any different."
"Yes, Aizen-sama. I am noticing this, as I'm sure Octava is as well." The painted man said, an air of annoyed superiority in his tone. The man was lucky he was good at what he did with just the right amount of crazy mixed in, else Aizen would have disposed of him long ago.
"It's been nearly a week." Aizen calmly turned back to continue watching as Octava ducked below one of Ichigo's strikes, stooping low to swipe the civilian's feet out from under him. "The serum had begun taking effect in the other soldier's much sooner."
"You think I don't know this?" Mayuri snapped, not liking what his leader was indicating.
They had tried various stimuli to force the civilian to begin undergoing his transformations, yet nothing seemed to work. They had made him go through exercise after exercise, task after task. Each time, the results were recorded; the stats on his strength, speed, reaction times, reflexes, everything. They had even ended up releasing a few hounds on the poor man in the hopes of triggering something. Luckily Sexta hadn't been separated from him, else the hounds surly would have torn the orange haired young man apart.
Blood work had been done before the serum had been given and again after it should have began altering the man, yet nothing had changed. It seemed that their little experiment had failed, though they had no idea how Ichigo's body was resisting the effects. Mayuri's track record was nearly flawless, however, and so Aizen humored him and continued observing the civilian, waiting for any changes to make themselves known before he decided what their next step would be.
In the ring, the ground seemed to rush up to meet him as Ichigo thudded to the hard concrete, panting and worn out. While he was more than willing to defend himself when the need arose, he didn't normally go looking for fights and this wasn't what he had been expecting when he had agreed to cooperate with Aizen in a twisted, desperate way of keeping Grimmjow from being killed.
His head spun from the poor landing and the muffled barking and snarling of the hounds didn't help. Just within his line of sight, Octava smiled down at him but there was nothing friendly about the expression. The strange soldier's intelligent eyes glittered in the harsh lighting of the ring and his almost feminine features gave off a malevolent aura that screamed that he would love to cut someone open. It was enough to force a shiver down anyone's spine.
Just as the pink haired man began circling in once more, Ichigo furrowed his brows and tilted his head to catch enraged, brilliant blue with his own eyes. The civilian panted, his breathing harsh as he watched Grimmjow recoil against the chains holding him in place. It was a little disturbing to watch the big man be leashed like a dangerous dog but he was giving the five guards holding him back a hell of a time. Their boots skidded across the rough concrete as they tried to keep the big soldier in line.
After a split second, those intense blue orbs darted away from Ichigo's gaze to pin Octava and Ichigo's eyes widened as his head snapped around just in time to watch the soldier pounce. A startled breath leaving him, Ichigo rolled out of the way and up onto his feet, stumbling backward as he spun to face the pink haired soldier. Again, Octava gave him that creepy smile as he surged forward.
Thin fingers wrapped around Ichigo's throat, squeezing tight enough to whiten the soldier's knuckles as he smiled almost lewdly down at the civilian. Ichigo struggled to draw breath as he struggled to pry the man's hand from his throat, fear beginning to grip his heart just as tightly as those clenched fingers. He thought the soldier wasn't allowed to go this far...but the lack of oxygen was clearly an indicator that he had been wrong.
Scuffing from the opposite side of the ring was followed by the surprised shouts of one of the guards keeping hold of Sexta's chains. But Sexta wasn't one of their hounds and he could only be leashed like one for so long. Ichigo was barely given time to recognize motion from his darkening peripheral before the hands wrapped around his throat were jerked away and Octava was no longer in front of him.
Gasping for air, Ichigo leaned forward, his chest heaving and his hands on his knees as he searched the ring for Grimmjow. Finding him not far away, he watched the bigger soldier shoulder block the smaller, still wrapped in his restraints, the chains dragging on the ground from the metal loops attached to the straps. He bared his teeth in Octava's face as he slammed the other soldier into the solid barrier of the ring.
The new material, looking no different from the glass that had been used before, shuttered in it's frame but held steady. Grimmjow stepped back and let the smaller soldier meekly slide to the concrete, his yellow eyes wide as he sheepishly smirked up at Grimmjow's snarling visage. The bluenette bent low to once again to get in Octava's face, making his threat more than obvious even without the use of words, before he stood back to his full, intimidating hight and toward over the seated soldier. The guards rushed the bluenette but halted as he calmly turned away from Octava and made his way to Ichigo's side.
Back outside of the ring, Aizen let a nearly inaudible sigh pass his lips as he spun away from the glass. It was clear the leader was disappointed and unpleased with the civilian's results. "Nothing. Even putting his life in danger reveals nothing. This is why I always hand select my soldiers."
"Nah, don't say that, Aizen-sama." Gin cooed as he stood from one of three chairs that had been brought into the room. His movements were a bit stiff still, but his healing was remarkably swift considering the damage and he would have full mobility back in another few days. "If nuthin' else, ya got a well trained attack dog outta the deal."
Aizen almost smirked at the notion of his unruly Sexta being likened to a well trained anything, let alone a hound.
"A dog that will only accept commands from one person is worthless to us." Tōsen countered Gin, also pulling himself out of a chair. The third had been left unoccupied, as Aizen had preferred to stand while watching. Normally, his generals would have stood at his side, but it was understandable that they remained at rest while their more brutal and harder to mend wounds healed.
The three left the outer circle of the training room, Aizen mostly tuning the two's back and forth banter out, his mind focused more on what to do with the civilian and Sexta. He distractedly bid the guards return his soldiers and the civilian to their respective cells on his way by. Mayuri trailed unhappily behind them, knowing that while Aizen hadn't said anything yet, his presence would be required once the leader got back to his office.
Grimmjow flashed his teeth behind the grill of his muzzle but otherwise walked from the ring quietly, hardly even needing the restraints while Ichigo walked by his side. The guards escorted them back through the halls and to Sexta's cell without incident, locking them within before disappearing, though neither Grimmjow nor Ichigo believed they actually went far. More likely, they had been ordered to keep close and guard the unruly and unpredictable soldier's cell should incident arise.
The moment the door closed behind them, Ichigo began unlocking the bluenette's bindings, starting with his muzzle. In the past several days, they had developed something of a routine. Just as Aizen had agreed, Ichigo went everywhere Grimmjow went and vise versa. With Grimmjow's new found cooperation, even if it was unhappily most of the time, they had been assigned a bit bigger of a cell, one that wasn't quite so bare and prison like as Sexta's old one.
Whenever they returned to their shared room, Ichigo was allowed to release Grimmjow from his bindings, a luxury the soldier had never been granted before and relished now. But the slight and almost blissful smile that would tug at his handsome features as he stretched his previously bound muscles would disappear almost instantly, leaving Ichigo with a sinking heart and guilt that bubbled and eroded in his gut.
Grimmjow slowly paced his new cage while Ichigo folded up the harness he had just removed, a sad frown on his boyish features. It killed him every time they would be summoned and he would be forced to fit the bindings back onto the renegade. It hurt far more than any physical wound and what was worse, Grimmjow said not a word during the whole process. He always sat still, intense blue eyes trained straight ahead but unseeing while Ichigo buckled the harness in place and apologized profusely under his breath as he pulled the muzzle over the man's head. The soldier always curled his lip into a silent snarl at the muzzle, but never complained or resisted and Ichigo hated himself a little more with each time.
The civilian knew the unwilling soldier should have been fighting and kicking and dragging his tormentor to the ground, doing anything in his power to resist being tied up and restrained. It was in the big man's very nature to break whatever kept him from his freedom. But Ichigo had become his captor and so he didn't struggle.
The orange haired man heaved a silent sigh as he dropped the harness and muzzle to the floor with a clatter of metal buckles and leather straps before he plopped down on the edge of one of the cots that they had been given. He shook his head slowly, sadly and scrubbed his hand down his face, wishing he knew how to get them out of the hole he had dug for them, a hole that only seemed to get deeper with each passing hour. He listened to Grimmjow's nearly silent foot falls as the man continued his pacing, his steps slow and steady like an animal attempting to wear a trail in it's enclosure as it waited for it's opportunity to break free once more.
Normally, the big man would pace for at least a half hour before he managed any semblance of peace and finally ceased his restless movements, like he had to wear his pent up anger and frustration out on the concrete floor. Today was different however, and after only a few minutes, Ichigo looked up through the curtain of his orange bangs to find Grimmjow kneeling on his hunches before him.
There was little emotion to be seen on the man's handsome face, but it wasn't cold indifference. The emotion, his thoughts and feelings, even his curiosity and slight confusion roiled in his blue gaze like thick, swirling storm clouds. The soldier's breathtaking eyes lowered from Ichigo's face and froze along his neck, growing cold in an almost painful way. It was an inner self-loathing, a chill that seemed to hurt Grimmjow more than it did the civilian.
The bruising from the wound inflicted by the soldier's powerful jaws was all but gone, but the distinct shape of where something sharp had punctured his flesh still marred his tawny skin and forever would. Ichigo brought his hand up to cover the scarring he knew the man to be looking at with that frigidly controlled gaze. He gave the bluenette a stern look that both demanded and begged that the man to quit beating himself up over what had happened, an event he had had no control over. The chastising look actually drew a chuckle from Grimmjow as the bigger man pulled his gaze back to Ichigo's face.
But the smirk was gone from those full lips as suddenly as it had appeared and Grimmjow slowly leaned forward, resting his forehead against Ichigo's and holding his gaze, his presence and proximity commanding but in no way intimidating. The small space between them was comfortable, broken with nothing but their mingling breaths as they studied one another, captivated by what they had already seen countless times since their impromptu meeting.
"There is something off about you, Ichigo." Grimmjow rumbled quietly, still staring into the civilian's eyes like he was looking for something, or perhaps had already found it.
Ichigo gave him a curious and confused look, his brows scrunching slightly, just barely wrinkling the bridge of his nose. "What do you mean?"
"They're back to normal now." The soldier tilted his head slightly as he pulled back and put a few inches between them. Even though he backed away, it hadn't been a retreating motion. It was simply so that the bigger man could study the smaller easier. "But in the ring, the color was...colder. Harder."
Ichigo leaned back as well, supporting his weight on his hands as he frowned at the soldier and tilted his head to match Grimmjow's. He wasn't sure he understood what the bigger man was talking about, but it still didn't settle well and he couldn't help but wonder, not for the first time, why exactly Aizen had been making him go through all the soldier style exercises he had been.
His mind was tugged back to the blanks Grimmjow had pointed out to him. They followed he and the renegade soldier's arrival to the lab but still he couldn't remember what had happened, if anything at all.
"I don't like it here." Ichigo mumbled, deflating where he sat and letting his chocolaty gaze finally drop away from Grimmjow's. If it hadn't been more than obvious why Grimmjow had fought so hard to escape before, it was at that moment. All the blatant violence, the disregard of the soldiers' rights as human beings, the pain they were put through and the torture they endured, both physically and mentally, the lab testing; all of it was unbelievably horrendous, but coupled with the simple waiting while being locked in a cell, wondering what Aizen's next move would be... It was maddening. It was hell. "We need to get out of here..."
"Soon." Grimmjow rumbled quietly, hating the helpless look the civilian was poorly trying to mask.
The next days were filled with the same routine; wrap Grimmjow in his restraints, leave the cell to fulfill more of Aizen's strange tests, return and release the soldier once more. Over and over, sometimes multiple times a day. Eventually, Grimmjow began his training once more as well, after it was determined his once mangled arm would be fully functional and back up to strength.
As always, he fought with brutality. The soldier's goal seemed to be breaking whatever had the misfortune of being thrown in front of him, like he was taking out all of his pent up rage on his hapless opponent. Aizen no longer waisted hounds on the man and had decided to pit Sexta against other soldiers in the effort to give him a challenge and test his abilities. He killed his first human opponent, a soldier that was supposedly on par with him, despite orders against it. As the dying solder took his last, gurgling breath, Grimmjow had allowed himself to be pulled off the man without struggle and a blank expression on his features.
Through out the blue haired soldier's training matches and exercises, Ichigo watched, his anger simmering in his gut and a frown on his features. His frustration at their situation rose with each strike Grimmjow made, with each heartless snarl that left the man's throat. There was nothing he could do. As much as he wanted to stop Grimmjow when the big man continued attacking even after his opponent was down, as much as he wanted to demand that Aizen stop the unnecessary and pointless killing, he was helpless to put an end to it. Any of it. Grimmjow did what he had to and he showed no mercy, as was demanded of him and Aizen was untouchable, his generals ever about and even if they hadn't been, Ichigo wasn't naive enough to think Aizen didn't have a few tricks up his sleeve. The civilian felt he had thrown them into this mess and he wracked his brain for a way out before it was too late, before one or both of them lost their lives, before Grimmjow gave in and became the monster Aizen was trying to turn him into.
And that was what worried him the most; that he would loose the blue haired renegade to circumstance, that the man would give in and let himself be controlled and turned into a mindless killing machine. A weapon.
Ichigo closed his eyes against the sight before him as he stood near Aizen, watching through the glass of the ring as Grimmjow bared his teeth and lashed out. Blowing a silent hiss between his teeth, the civilian desperately ignored the cloying, heady scent of blood and bile as it filled the air and the sound of ripping flesh. Beside him, Aizen grunted quietly at what he was watching.
His quite words grabbed the civilian's attention, making Ichigo turn toward Aizen and wonder what the hell he had in mind.
"Sexta seems bored. His attacks lack his usual imagination. Perhaps he needs a real challenge." Aizen pondered aloud, his arms folded comfortably over his chest and his stance relaxed yet confident. He glanced over at the orange haired man, still unhappy at the lack of results the civilian was showing, before turning back toward the training room. "Mr. Kurosaki, why don't you join him in the ring?"
"What?" Ichigo's voice was incredulous, showing how absurd he thought the idea was.
"Oh no, you wont be his opponent." Aizen reassured the civilian, a thoughtful expression on his features. He turned to glance over his shoulder, catching the attention of his generals. "Send for Quinto, tell him to bring the repaired Santa Teresa. And you might as well have Cuatro join as well."
"A 'course, Sir." Gin happily pranced from the room, his ever present grin splitting his face and not a trace of his previous state of grievous injury remaining. As Gin disappeared, his counterpart silently joined Aizen and the civilian. Tōsen seemed to appear at Ichigo's side and wordlessly guided the orange haired man toward the entrance of the circular, barren room used for training.
Grimmjow slowly straitened from the unfortunate man he had been paired up against as the entrance to the training room was opened. His opponent this time had been from one of Aizen's previous line of weapons, making him expendable, out of date. Even though the soldier had been among the top of his line, he still hadn't been a match for the newer model, for the soldier from the Espada line and Sexta had proven that all too easily.
Thinking it was the guards come to re-bind him, Grimmjow let a lazy sneer cross his features as he turned to face the opened entrance. The expression dropped, showing his surprise and slight suspicion as Tōsen held the door open and Ichigo entered. The orange haired man looked just as confused as the soldier was. The door was closed behind Ichigo and the civilian slowly made his way across the concrete floor to stand at Grimmjow's side, avoiding the dying man laying on the floor as the man made the attempt to cling to life.
Grimmjow turned to face the direction he knew Aizen to be watching from. He couldn't see through the ring but his chilling gaze was no less piercing in it's intensity and it spoke for him as he moved to place himself between the civilian and the mess he had made of his opponent, shielding the younger from the carnage as best he could.
From the opposite side of the sturdy barrier, Aizen chuckled to himself at Sexta's possessive and protective display. He pressed the button on a control panel to connect the intercom that allowed him to speak to the occupants of the training area as he matched the unwilling soldier's frigid gaze, not that Sexta knew he was doing so. "Patience, Sexta. I will debrief you once the rest of the participants arrive."
Grimmjow curled his lip but said nothing, his silence and unease matched by Ichigo. The atmosphere of the ring was tense and foreboding under the scent of sweat and gore, but the two didn't have to wait long before the entrance to the training room was again pulled open.
Quinto and Cuatro were escorted in, already released from their restraints and bindings. Quinto's features were twisted in his wide, overbearing grin as he rotated the joints of the latest model of his Santa Teresa gear while Cuatro remained ever stoic and simply took in the blue haired soldier and the civilian standing opposite them with cold, green eyes.
Blue eyes narrowed, a snarl sounding low in the big man's throat. Grimmjow carefully pushed Ichigo back and further behind him, not liking the turn of events in the slightest. He knew Aizen too well to trust what was going on. The civilian's brows furrowed as he rested his hand on Grimmjow's arm while the man eased him away, those deep brown eyes trained on the soldier's aggression twisted features. Grimmjow let the soft touch linger as he held his arm outstretched and slightly behind him to indicate that the civilian should stay back.
Before anyone could make a real move, Aizen's voice buzzed in through the intercom once more. "This training exercise is simple. Sexta, your mission is to defend."
The bluenette's head tilted curiously as he listened, his blue brows pulling together slightly. Still he kept the civilian behind him and the other soldiers in front of him.
"Cuatro and Quinto, you will be a team. Your mission is to eliminate."
Three sets of eyes turned toward Ichigo, each with various states of surprise written in their depths. Grimmjow's icy blue orbs were the widest however, as he turned to look over his shoulder at the civilian he had been spending his time with. It was clear that the point of the so called training exercise hadn't sank into the young man's mind just yet but it was more than clear to soldiers.
As Grimmjow's gaze went from surprised to reflecting a maddening rage, his head snapping around to pin his fellow soldiers, understanding slowly dawned on Ichigo. The civilian slowly took a step back as Grimmjow dropped into a defensive crouch, his growling filling the silence with a rumbling warning. The two soldiers facing him each shifted their gazes to glance at the bluenette, Quinto the first to move while Cuatro simply stuck his hands in his pockets and seemed to wait patiently for his turn.
Back outside of the ring, the two generals took up their customary positions, one on either side of their leader. The three watched as the soldiers and the civilian readied themselves, the very air tense with their silent observations of one another. Guards lined the back wall of the chamber Aizen and his generals watched from, more waiting just outside the entrance of the ring should their be a need for them.
"Permission to speak, Sir." Tōsen spoke quietly from his leader's left, eyes hidden behind his dark glasses but trained toward the ring as Quinto cracked the knuckles of his real hands and began stalking forward, artificial limbs at his sides.
"Granted." Aizen rarely denied his generals the privilege to speak, but still they asked, much to his liking. Sexta's growling took on a deeper tone, aggression veritably wafting from the big man as his piercing gaze followed the lanky soldier's every motion.
"I am not sure I think this a wise choice, Aizen-sama." The dark general admitted, still facing straight ahead as Sexta and the taller soldier clashed. Their meeting was explosive, the smaller diving forward the wrap his thickly muscled arms around the multi-limbed soldier and drive him to the unforgiving cement of the floor.
Grimmjow's fist caught the other soldier in the chest, knocking the air from his lungs in a harsh grunt but Quinto wouldn't be subdued easily. Four, cold steel limbs came to life, surging toward the soldier pinning the taller down. Grimmjow turned to snarl at one but quickly dismissed it in favor of focusing on the operator. As the once renegade soldier swung again, so too did Quinto.
"And why's that, Tōsen?" Aizen asked curiously.
Ichigo watched as his companion and the other soldier fought, their attacks far from friendly or hesitant. They didn't fight like they were merely practicing, like they were on the same side and simply running through a training exercise. They fought to draw blood and kill. They fought like enemies.
Slight movement drew the civilian's gaze, making his eyes land on the nearly motionless soldier that had yet to step into the fray. He dropped back another step, putting more distance between himself and pale soldier, his mind racing as he tried to prepare himself. He knew this couldn't possibly end well.
Cuatro tilted his head ever so slightly, his face impassive and his hands still at rest in his pockets. He pulled his large, emotionless eyes away from his struggling partner and the rogue, letting them match the orange haired civilian's stare from across the ring. There was no fear in the man's eyes, but there was certainly a dread and an understanding to be found in normally warm brown eyes. Something hard glittered from just below that warmth, something more primal.
"The soldiers will tear each other apart. Sexta's odds do not work in his favor. He will be unable to protect the civilian and defend himself against Cuatro and Quinto." Tōsen answered, his deep voice neutral.
A slight smile curved Aizen's lips, just barely turning them up at the corners as he watched. He said nothing in response to his general's observation.
In the ring, Grimmjow bared white, over sharp teeth as his arms were pinned behind his back and he was thrown from the lanky soldier. He landed on the cement, allowing himself to roll with the momentum before he sprang to his feet, wiping blood from the side of his jaw with the back of his hand. Red welled to the surface of the ragged slice instantaneously but it went unnoticed as the blue haired soldier all but roared his fury and drove back in.
His gaze darted to Ichigo, insuring the young man was still out of immediate harm's way. With the civilian still backed away from the fighting, he lashed out. His intended kick was blocked by a metal arm as Quinto cackled his delight, using another of his metal hands to grasp hold of the smaller soldier's leg.
Grimmjow snarled again and followed through with his forward momentum. Like the feline he was often compared to, his flexibility worked in his favor and he used Quinto's hold upon him to drive his weight into the soldier. Using Quinto's metal limb as leverage, he kicked off the soldier as his hands grasped hold of the thin, normal limbs attempting to block him.
"Mah mah...think tha's the point." Gin sang to his leader's right. His eye closing grin dominated his features and hid the color of his irises but still he watched the fight unfold. "If the poor lil civilian doesn't have any tricks up his sleeves, Sexta and him are in trouble."
Not bothering to look back to the fighting soldiers in the ring, Cuatro casually headed toward the civilian that had been named his target. Sexta was sufficiently distracted with the equally hotheaded Quinto and he was sure the two would keep each other busy for a while. As the civilian edged away another step, his back hitting the glass of the ring and halting his retreat, the pale soldier's only reaction was a slow, almost bored blink of his too large eyes.
The man would find no mercy from the stoic soldier and his only ally in the facility of madmen had found himself in was tangled up with a six armed super soldier intent on destroying him. Ichigo swallowed as he matched the cold, cunning stare of Cuatro, furrowing his orange brows and clenching his hands into fists at his sides.
"Hmm." Tōsen nodded slightly, seeing his counterpart's point of view. "You intend to either force the civilian's changes or eliminate he and his troublesome pet."
Thoughts?