Notes:
[EDIT] You can read a one-off detailing the flashback in this story if you feel the urge. It's titled Zenith: Reap.
At this point I feel like my summary for this fic isn't good enough. I'm too deep into it, I don't have perspective. If you have a better idea for a summary, I'd love to hear it, since the time travel aspect is such a small portion of the plot now.
Also I started watching Code Geass (I'm so late to the party, but whatever), so I hope I don't get too influenced by Lelouch's stupid extravagance. What a nerd, he's so great.
Sorry if this seems extra gay, but I wrote what felt right ehhhhhhhhh, not to mention this is one of the hardest chapters I've had to write because it involves filling in alibis plot holes with nitty gritty details. Also I'm getting a roommate yaaay and getting the carpet removed, so I've been a touch busy. Sorry this one is late!
Ganbari masu!
Segunda Etapa
"Regret is a form of punishment itself." -Nouman Ali Khan
- xxx -
Grimmjow
Five days passed and there was no sign of Kurosaki. At least, he had the feeling it had been five days. Granted, that wasn't saying much given no one could sense the fucker's reiatsu, and he just did whatever the hell he wanted. A stop by Szayel had revealed a garganta had deposited his ass back into the living world, but there was no sign of him since.
For future reference, Grimmjow noted just how skittish Szayel had been around him. That was new, but likely because of the fact he was the Espada closest to Kurosaki. In fact the scientist seemed more than a little relieved their king had disappeared, and Grimmjow couldn't hold it against him; Kurosaki was a monster.
When he asked how he knew Kurosaki wouldn't just open a garganta out of the range of his sensors, Szayel couldn't help but brag about his ability to track the visored. He wasn't entirely sure the arrancar intended to give that information up or not, but despite his fear, he couldn't seem to get over his overconfidence. He tried not to think of it as tattling, but it seemed like something Kurosaki ought to know.
He'd been curious and paid a visit to the dying arrancar Szayel had been picking apart, and was surprised to find he was perfectly fine. More than fine, the idiot seemed hell bent on being as obnoxious as possible, so he eagerly left him with Starrk.
Given that he and the girl wouldn't leave Starrk alone, he felt certain they were safe. After what happened to Szayel after they were harmed, pretty much every arrancar in Las Noches gave them a wide berth.
He could sense Harribel training with her old fraccion, noticing they had improved. Their reiatsu was closer to an Espada level, even without using Ayon.
If he was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure if he'd gotten any better. Trying to train against Kurosaki was like trying to chop down a mountain with a blunt hatchet. It was frustrating to know the gap between them was so large, Kurosaki could defeat him when he was half dead and worse without even trying.
He'd been thinking about the visored's offer, agonizing over it, and the only thing holding him back was pride. He didn't give a damn about whatever potential risks might be involved, if it was worth doing, there was probably a risk attached.
Days had passed, and he was still no closer to an answer. He spent his time training with his old fraccion, but there was no challenge there, and he lost interest quickly.
He couldn't think of anyone he could spar with that didn't make him want to gut himself. He actually missed Kurosaki and his smug fucking face. Everyone else was boring, or weak. He missed the challenge, the thrill of a real threat.
Kurosaki delivered on that and then some. He might pull his punches so he didn't kill him, but he didn't treat him like he was weak, like he was trash. As much as he wanted to believe Kurosaki didn't respect him, he did, fuck if he knew why. If their positions were reversed, he wouldn't have been half as lenient and patient.
His blood ran hot for the rush a real challenge gave him, and he found himself wandering. He was at the edge of Las Noches, in the ruins of his first fight with Kurosaki. This is where he'd been thoroughly beaten, where things had first changed.
He wanted a fight, but Kurosaki was nowhere to be found.
He stalked away, surprised at himself when his feet carried him towards the one arrancar he hated the most.
Ulquiorra had stopped to wait for him, hands in his pockets, regarding him with the same cold, distant gaze he'd come to expect. He'd seen him get annoyed and angry, but he'd never seen him actually express it. It made him wonder if the arrancar could actually feel anything at all.
The primera Espada asked, "What do you want?"
Grimmjow knew what he wanted, but he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to ask for it. He planted his feet, glowering at Ulquiorra, and forced himself to speak. "Your Segunda Etapa...I want to see it again."
Ulquiorra blinked, and turned away. "No."
It was like a slap in the face, no matter how expected. Even asking had been a blow to his pride, but to not even be worth his time? He insisted, "I want to see it."
Ulquiorra kept walking, his voice monotone. "You're of no interest to me, Grimmjow."
Grimmjow started after him, annoyed that he was going to have to chase after him if he wanted to continue talking; He thought the bastard might speak so quietly on purpose. "So why talk to me at all?"
"You're White's lapdog, aren't you?"
Grimmjow bristled, grinding his teeth. "I ain't his pet."
"He keeps you close and assigns you tasks, how is that different?"
He kept his battered pride wrapped close, not thrilled about letting Ulquiorra step all over it. He growled, "f you won't show me then tell me, if you broke your mask, how aren't you dead?"
Ulquiorra paused. "Who's to say I didn't die?" He looked back, and even if his expression didn't change; he had the feeling he was looking down on him. "Are you a coward, Grimmjow? Does the prospect of oblivion scare you? You fixate on life and death so much, it's a miracle you can function at all."
Grimmjow said nothing, not humoring him with an over defensive remark; he knew the bastard was waiting for it.
Ulquiorra continued, "I have a feeling achieving segunda etapa is different for every arrancar."
"Why tell me that?"
"White would prefer you strong, wouldn't he?"
Grimmjow studied his expression, but it was as unreadable as always. They both turned away, the rhythm of their footsteps clashing in tempo. Grimmjow prowled away with purpose, and Ulquiorra stepped with the calm ease of someone with nowhere to go and all the time in the world to get there.
Ulquiorra strongly implied he'd died to obtain his power. If he hadn't died, then something close to it must have happened. He'd just seen what happened to an arrancar when it's mask was broken, and he didn't want to end up like that. It was the equivalent of slitting his wrists, he wasn't a suicidal maniac, he wanted to live.
- xxx -
"I leave you alone for a few days and you get this lazy?"
Ichigo's voice at his back startled him, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He stopped himself from spinning around like a disturbed cat, knowing that was the exact reaction Kurosaki was fishing for. He turned slowly, bristling. "Why do you have to do that?!"
Kurosaki smirked, "Just to keep you on your toes."
"Where have you been?" Immediately after Grimmjow said it, he wished he'd chosen his words wore carefully. He sounded like a worried housewife.
Kurosaki's smirk widened, his tone mocking. "What, did you miss me?"
"No!" He answered too quickly, and the visored noticed.
Kurosaki lifted a brow in surprise, shifting his weight as he regarded him more closely. "Did you really?"
Grimmjow's scowl deepened. "You're the only fucking person in this place I can actually fight, don't get the wrong idea."
Kurosaki's expression shifted to one of apology. "Ah, sorry. I'll make it up to you." What he said didn't match his body language. He was looking elsewhere, eyes unfocused.
The Espada asked, "So what do you want?"
The visored glanced at him, and Grimmjow could see the other debate lying. He was an awful liar, but knowing he was lying never did get him any closer to the truth when he decided to do it. Kurosaki said, "You're coming with me."
Grimmjow was feeling belligerent. He challenged, "Is that an order?"
"Yes." From the look on the visored's face, the other already knew he would agree, but was as ready as always to quash rebellion.
Grimmjow slumped, shoving his hands into his pockets. Sure, he'd do what he wanted, he was too curious to start a fight.
Kurosaki blurred into sonido, and Grimmjow had to fight to keep up. He knew the visored was going slow for his sake, which annoyed him beyond belief, but when he couldn't even sense his reiatsu, it was the only way he wouldn't be left standing clueless and alone in the desert.
He didn't need to chase him for long, he realized where they were headed quickly enough. He picked up more than a handful of reiatsu signatures with his pesquisa, Loly among them. He was more than curious now, he was invested. What would Loly be doing with this many adjuchas?
Then he recalled what Loly had told him. She must have meant adjuchas when she said 'few', but why Kurosaki ordered her to gather them was the real mystery. It wasn't like the visored shared his thoughts.
Kurosaki stopped not far off, and every adjuchas present gave him their full attention. They stood hunched, defensive, their attention shifting from Kurosaki, to himself. Clearly the lack of reiatsu was throwing them for a loop. For reasons Grimmjow didn't bother to identify, it bothered him that they didn't immediately comprehend just how deadly Kurosaki could be.
Grimmjow stood just behind him, but held his tongue.
Loly stepped forward, crossing the dunes until she was nearly within arm's reach of Kurosaki. She was scared, he could smell it on her, but she hid it pretty well for a weakling.
She held her chin up, lifting her hand to her hip in strained nonchalance. "These adjuchas are interested, if you can do what you promise."
Kurosaki inclined his head, those sharp looking horns angled at her throat. Grimmjow didn't think the threat was intentional, but Loly tensed nonetheless. The visored's tone was flat. "I wouldn't offer if I couldn't deliver on it."
The woman swallowed, then said, "You should know...they say hollows have been disappearing. They aren't being consumed, they're just gone without a trace. It's odd."
Kurosaki scanned the adjuchas thoughtfully. "That might be important. Thank you."
She flushed, seemingly furious she was being thanked at all. She fidgeted, but didn't get to speak before Kurosaki stepped around her. "Which of you wants to be the first?"
From the way they were situated, the one that was most likely their unappointed alpha stepped forward, a more birdlike adjuchas.
It was far taller than Kurosaki, it had to bend over to get to his level. It'a voice was rather deep, but it had the voice of a woman. "You expect me to believe you are the king of Las Noches?"
Kurosaki didn't move, his tone carefully neutral. "I don't expect anything of you, I rule nothing but Las Noches, I don't know you."
Grimmjow remembered the way he could manipulate the very sand and silently called bullshit. But...If it boiled down to a king and his subjects, he supposed Kurosaki was right, he offered no protection to those outside of its walls. Recalling the times Kurosaki had been wandering the halls soaked in blood was enough of a reminder that the visored was more ruthless than he appeared.
The bird-like adjuchas growled, "How can something so weak rule so many?"
Kurosaki sighed, and both he and Loly braced themselves, sensing his annoyance. The visored dropped his reiatsu, the adjuchas present crumpling to the ground.
The alpha of their group stared up at Kurosaki in abject terror, something Grimmjow found immensely satisfying, even as he struggled to stand himself. Maybe it was because here was undeniable proof that he didn't bend for anyone short of a monster. Kurosaki had his position because he deserved it.
Kurosaki didn't let up on his power, he crouched to get to her level. "I'm not doing this because I need you. I want you on my side.
She said, "Forgive me for not believing that the king of Hueco Mundo would be so altruistic." Grimmjow was almost impressed she managed to speak without letting the strain color her tone.
Grimmjow couldn't see his face, but he could hear the smirk in Kurosaki's voice. "Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not doing this solely for your sake."
"Then why?"
"If you fear regression, all you'll do is consume each other, and Hueco Mundo will always be in a state of chaos. I'm going to change that."
Grimmjow hadn't realized how idealistic Kurosaki was. Personally, he looked out for himself, everyone else be damned. He wanted to be king, but king of what? He'd never stopped to consider it.
Kurosaki continued, "Do you wish to be free?"
"Does this not come at a price? Do you not expect loyalty in return?"
"No. I told you what I want. I don't need you, but if you wish to join me in Las Noches, you wouldn't be turned away. The choice is yours. Should you change your mind, you're also free to leave." He warned, "But know what while you have my protection within Las Noches, that ends the moment you leave my rule."
Kurosaki straightened, the weight of his reiatsu abruptly lifting. His tone was harsh and unyielding. "Decide."
The adjuchas straightened, none privy to their thoughts behind their masks. The bird hollow finally spoke. "If you do succeed in completing my evolution, you'll have my loyalty, White." The others stepped back, distancing themselves from her choice, but remained to watch in tense silence.
Kurosaki reached out with a hand, but let her be the one to decide to close the gap. "I need to touch your mask. This will be unpleasant, but bare with it."
She crouched, lowering a long, arched neck so her mask was pressed to his palm.
Grimmjow stepped back, his instincts railing against him for no visible reason. The sand at Kurosaki's feet rippled, darkness pooling around him. It flowed gently for a moment, then seized at the same moment the bird adjuchas started to scream.
It was a wretched sound, full of all the emptiness every hollow knew and understood. She twisted and shivered, but Kurosaki's grip was firm, he didn't even budge.
Slowly, darkness bubbled from the cracks in her mask, surging over her until she was consumed by it. It grew thicker, violent, surging around the pair in a viscous torrent.
Kurosaki suddenly let go, breathing heavily, clenching his hand into a fist. The darkness seeped back into the sand like waves on the shore, leaving in its wake a naked woman. She was curled up on her side, shivers rolling through her back and shoulders. Long, white hair was sprawled over and around her, concealing her face.
Saying nothing, Kurosaki proceeded to strip out of his kosode. He crouched by her, draping it over her shoulders. She accepted it without complaint, struggling to sit upright. She reached for her face, her fingertips trailing along the edge of her mask, tracing the teeth and the curve of what was left of a beak. Half of her face was concealed in the fragments of her mask, her hollow hole remaining in the middle of her chest.
Kurosaki picked up a sheathed sword on the sand beside her, handing it to her. She accepted it with barely concealed reverence. She whispered, "Shirasagi…" as she held it to her chest. She bit her lip to hold back what Grimmjow expected were tears.
He couldn't judge her for them, it was a painfully liberating feeling to be free from the constant hunger and fear. No doubt she'd expected an elaborate trick, or even a trap. To simply be given what she wanted with no strings attached was unheard of in Hueco Mundo. If Kurosaki was fishing for loyalty, this was a sure fire way to get it.
She doubled over in a low bow, her hair cascading over her shoulders to the sand, sword still clutched to her chest. "Heika...You have my sword, and you have my loyalty, for as long as I live."
Kurosaki straightened, gesturing for her to stand, even if she couldn't see it. "Get up, I've never liked formality." She stood, legs shaky, and Grimmjow could see the admiration and awe in her eyes. Intentionally or not, Kurosaki had her hooked. "So long as you serve me, your enemies are mine."
Grimmjow found it curious that statement wasn't reversed. Weren't Kurosaki's enemies their enemy by extension? He felt the visored had deliberately avoided saying so.
Kurosaki's attention shifted to the rest of the adjuchas, and they seemed just as awe struck as their unofficial leader. He said, "If you decide to join her, it'll have to wait. One a day seems to be my limit. I'll be back tomorrow." If there were any complaints, none of the adjuchas were bold enough to voice them. He looked to Loly. "Show her back."
Loly snapped, "What makes you think I'm going back?"
Kurosaki's tone had a layer of faux confusion. "Was I mistaken?"
Loly flushed, and gave the new arrancar a solid shove between the shoulder blades towards Las Noches as she stomped past.
Kurosaki chided. "Try not to be a bitch."
Grimmjow heard her mutter something like 'go fuck yourself', but Kurosaki didn't react, he only rolled his eyes. He supposed the best thing to come from this exchange of power was that Kurosaki gave a shit about their opinions, he didn't shield his ego from insults.
At first Grimmjow saw it as a weakness that he wouldn't punish that sort of behavior, but he began to see it differently. Insults really did appear to bounce off of him, there were only a few things that truly seemed to get under his skin; Szayel, touching him, and using his real name.
Kurosaki glanced back at Grimmjow in silent invitation, then stepped into sonido. Grimmjow followed, surprised he was heading away from Las Noches. He didn't go far, he only put enough distance between him and any living thing so he was out of casual sensing distance.
The instant Kurosaki stopped, he dropped his hollowfication. His hair became shorter, his hollow hole vanished, he appeared to be a normal shinigami once again. Lines of light streaked along his skin, glowing faintly, but even those began to fade. The visored answered his unasked questions. "I'm new to this, it's hard to do when I'm hollowfied."
Grimmjow had the sense he was underestimating what had happened; he could see the tremor in Kurosaki's hands even from where he was standing. He asked, "Why bring me out here at all? You seem to have this shit handled."
Kurosaki flexed his hand, frowning down at it, then shifted his eyes to Grimmjow's. Even when he wasn't hollowfied, the severity of his attention always made Grimmjow tense. The visored said, "I wanted you to see what it was like."
"...Okay, I saw. So what?"
Kurosaki's eyes narrowed. "It'll be worse."
Grimmjow bared his teeth in a snarl. "So what? Pain isn't a consequence."
The hybrid closed the distance between them, and at the look on his face, Grimmjow had to fight to keep from running. Lashing out wouldn't work, and that only left flight. He took a step back, but too slowly. He sucked in a breath in shock when the other thrust his hand through his hollow hole. It wasn't pain he felt, it was the deep, cold reminder that he was less.
Grimmjow jerked back, grasping Kurosaki's wrist in a futile attempt to force him to back off. The visored suddenly had his hand around Grimmjow's throat, his grip only tight enough to hold him in place. Grimmjow panicked, tying and failing to keep it from his face. His helplessness surfaced in rage, abandoning his grip on Kurosaki's wrist to grasp Pantera.
Kurosaki made no move to stop him, his expression just as calm as it had been when their eyes met. "Grimmjow, I know how wrong this feels, how badly you want to deny what you've lost...If I help you, it will be so much worse. I want you to understand just what it is I'm offering you. It's more than pain, or power, you'll be as close as you can be to becoming whole."
Grimmjow's grip on Pantera tightened, but he didn't draw it. It was a comfort, more than anything, he knew he couldn't hurt the visored. He warned, "Kurosaki…"
"Of every hollow I've ever killed, I've never seen one struggle to live as much as you." The visored let him go, taking a calculated step back. The other drew his hand back, and Grimmjow shivered in distaste at the feeling that lingered in its wake.
Kurosaki pretended not to notice the tremble in Grimmjow's hands, or the fear in his eyes. "There's the very real possibility this could kill you. If you reject yourself, you'll die. This will put you on the very brink of life and death."
Grimmjow hissed, "I didn't agree to anything, you're making assumptions."
"You decided days ago, you've only spent this time trying to talk yourself out of it."
Fuck him, he wasn't wrong, and that pissed the Espada off. He clenched his teeth together so hard his jaw ached. He scowled at Kurosaki and demanded, "Why can't you leave well enough alone?"
The visored's lips stretched into an easy smile. "Ah, that's a good question." He took a step closer, prompting Grimmjow to take a small step back. "I had a lot of help-shortcuts and small miracles. I really shouldn't be alive...I see all the worst parts of myself in you, that's the truth of it. I want you to live, I want you to be strong. Does the why really matter?"
Grimmjow shouted, "It does!" The intensity of his own answer surprised him, but now that the words had left his mouth, he found they were true. He needed to know why he gave a shit, he didn't understand.
Kurosaki blinked and leaning back. He lifted his hand to his head, raking his fingers through his hair. He let out an annoyed sound, looking up. Even outside of his hollow form, his hair was almost past his shoulders. He looked different, but he was the same. Kurosaki's voice was light, falsely saccharine to the point that even Grimmjow could tell. "It's kind of pathetic, I'm sure you'll think less of me for it...I'm lonely. It's not complicated."
Grimmjow balked. "What do you mean? You're not alone, you have the Espada, the arrancar, your stupid human and shinigami friends-you're lonely-what does that even mean?"
Kurosaki looked back at him, not bothered by his tone. He answered ruefully. "I'm king. You fear me, all of you do. You should, I've given you no reason not to." He gestured vaguely at the desert and the very dunes shifted gently at his will. "I'm bound to this fucking monster because I'm stronger than you, all of you. You can't even sense me, it's like I don't exist, this isn't even my time..."
He scoffed derisively, cutting himself off mid rant. He looked back at the Espada, burying whatever emotion he'd et surface, no matter how briefly. "I didn't bring you out here to whine at you. I see potential in you, Grimmjow, but I won't lie and say that my reasons for wanting to invest in it aren't personal. It's your choice. I know you want power, but do you trust me...do you trust yourself?"
Grimmjow wasn't sure he understood Kurosaki's reasoning, but he wanted what he had to offer. He wanted it badly. He swore, dropping his hand from his sword. "Yes." Kurosaki leveled him with a challenging glare, and he reaffirmed, "Yes...if you can do it, then do it."
Kurosaki stepped closer again, and Grimmjow stiffened. "Right now? I thought you said you couldn't do it twice?"
"Getting cold feet?"
Grimmjow deflected. "You gonna answer me?"
Kurosaki let out a soft exhale. "I lied a little. I don't see why I should intentionally weaken myself if there's no rush. You're different. You're an investment, not charity. Not to mention this process is different, it relies more on you than anything I'm going to do."
Grimmjow hissed out a breath. "Fine, whatever. Do it." What did he care if Kurosaki wanted to cut the legs out from under himself?
Kurosaki lifted a hand, his palm hovering just before Grimmjow's face. "What I said to her applies to you; this is going to hurt."
Grimmjow glared at him from between stretched fingers. "Think I'm scared of a little pain?"
Kurosaki's expression fell. "Pain of the heart, Grimmjow." The Espada had nothing more to say on that.
The visored let out a slow breath, then closed his eyes.
Grimmjow tensed in anticipation, his instincts urging him to run, but he held himself in place. The sudden shock of pain through his soul made him gasp, then he was jerked down into unconsciousness.
There was only darkness and pain. He was wrong, it wasn't unconsciousness, it was merely a formless prison inside his own mind. He couldn't move, or scream or fight, he just had to suffer the agony of the deepening chasm in his chest. He could only wait in horror as it threatened to consume him.
Kurosaki's voice echoed in his mind, thick with disappointment. "Is that all...I thought you were a fighter?"
Grimmjow's eyes flew open, taking in the darkness of Hueco Mundo. He rolled to his side to push himself up, and found he was staring down into cracked glass...no, a window. He took stock of his surroundings again, panicking, and found he was on the edge of a skyscraper, one of hundreds. He noticed something else was wrong, the sand wasn't white, it was black, the light glinting off the dunes too sharply to be sand.
"You're in my inner world."
Grimmjow was on his feet and in a crouch, whirling to face the voice. Kurosaki stood not far away at the edge of the building. He noticed that some distance to his left was his monochrome doppleganger. Even farther away was a stranger, a man in a cloak. The visored said, "Ignore them, you're not here for them."
Grimmjow demanded, "Then what am I here for?"
"You."
"What the fuck does that mean?!" Grimmjow struggled through the ache in his chest. It had dulled, but the pain was still going strong.
Ichigo raised his hand in front of him, palm down. As he did, darkness rose from the shattered glass, rising and congealing as it took form. Grimmjow reached for his sword, fear singing in his bones when his hand closed around air. Pantera was gone.
He looked down, he had to, and Ichigo chided. "Where are you looking, Grimmjow? Pantera is here."
Grimmjow whipped his head back around to Kurosaki, eyes widening as the darkness began to take a form he recognized. Blue eyes burned from the darkness that began to drip away, revealing an armored adjuchas cat beneath. He'd never gotten a good look at himself from the outside as an adjuchas, but he knew he was staring at himself.
Kurosaki blurred into shunpo, leaving Grimmjow to face himself alone.
The cat adjuchas whipped its tail, baring its teeth in a snarl. "Look at yourself. You're a coward." The insult was spoken in derision and disappointment. "Do you remember your regrets, Grimmjow?"
Grimmjow was struck by the question. How could he remember? No one remembered their life before they died, no one. He relied on what he knew best; violence.
He leapt forward, clenching his hand into a fist. He threw a punch, his reiatsu fired from his fist in a bala.
The burst scorched the surface of the building, but as the smoke cleared, the jaguar was gone. Teeth sunk into his shoulder and he whipped his arm around to hit it, reaching with his other hand to grasp its head.
The jaguar's perched on his back, sinking its teeth in deeper with a rolling growl. Grimmjow tightened his fingers around its muzzle, squeezing as hard as he could manage. He tried to dig his fingers into its eyes, but it simply closed them, shaking its head and wrenching its teeth in his shoulder. Grimmjow grit his teeth through the pain, gathering his reiatsu for another bala.
The cat spoke again in his mind, a gnarled version of his own voice. "I know you feel it."
Fury flashed through him. "I don't remember!"
"You do. It dictates every action, it colors every word you speak."
"Speak sense!" He lost his concentration and he couldn't tear its teeth free, so he threw himself back, intent on slamming the cat into the ground. The instant before he hit, teeth ripped from his shoulder and he ended up on his back, temporarily free from its claws.
He grunted and rolled to his feet, bending low defensively. The cat was on him in a heartbeat, jaws snapping. Grimmjow dodged, jerking out of reach, frustrated that all he could do was run.
The cat spoke in his mind again, voice surprisingly calm compared to the violence of its actions. "The details don't matter, your past is done and over with, but your heart hasn't let go. I know you feel the regret of broken promises and betrayal. Why do you claw your way to the top, what's so awful about being weak?"
"Shut up!" Grimmjow shouted, barely managing to pull his arm away out of reach of the cat's jaws. The pain of that first attack on top of the pressure in his chest was all too distracting and it was slowing him down. The cat was focusing on his injured side, and the click of its teeth were getting closer and closer to rending flesh.
The cat's voice infiltrated his mind again. "Tell me what you fear. Acknowledge it!" Its jaws clamped shut like a bear trap on his forearm, yanking him forward and within reach. It split its jaws wide again and leapt for his throat.
Grimmjow staggered back, raising his arms too slowly. He felt teeth slice through his neck, its weight flattening him against the cracked glass of the building. He went still out of pure instinct, and the cat held firm, blood pooling hotly on his skin and the hollow of his throat.
He felt something grasp hold of all the pain, anger and regret he felt coiled in his chest, and it twisted. He begged, "Stop-" It sounded even more pathetic than he'd feared, and the cat only tightened its jaws in response, cutting off anything he might say.
He pushed up against the cat, fingers grasping at the plates of armor in vain. Why was he losing? Why?! This cat was him, he should be able to at least beat himself, shouldn't he?
His vision started to go dark, every breath growing more and more difficult to draw. The more darkness that crept into his vision, the more his chest ached. He could no longer tell if it was out of heartache or lack of oxygen, he was merely afraid.
"You want to be strong? Face it."
- xxx -
He blinked against the sun, confused by the sudden lack of darkness. He was in a city... maybe. Things were blurred, faded, motion passing in unfocused blurs around him. "What is this?"
'This is the moment of your death. You never forgot, no hollow could, it's the center of who you are.'
The shadows stuttered and took form, yet he still couldn't make out what he was looking at. The physical pain he felt before was gone, a new pain taking its place. He reached for his stomach, shocked to find his hollow hole was gone. Instead his hand was wet, blood pooling between his fingers. What?
He looked down, taking his hand away to study the glisten of blood. This ache in his chest, was this regret? Why, why why? He looked up and he saw himself, mirroring the shock of his own reaction. He was shot, he remembered-how could he have ever forgotten? Who shot him? He couldn't remember.
He
Couldn't
Remember
Someone was standing in front of his vision of himself. He stepped closer, trying to make out their face. He was close enough to touch them, but their identity escaped him. He was afraid, and it made him set his jaw in frustration.
'You don't want to remember. You've always known.'
He saw his other self fall to his knees in his peripheral, but he didn't turn to look, he was still studying the man before him.
No...No, no, no, Arturo.
He was too weak, he'd let him down. This was long since done and over with. There was nothing he could do for him anymore, but the regret still stung so sharply. Arturo was the one that held the gun, but the one who'd really pulled the trigger...
Arturo came into focus, tears gathering in his eyes. How could he have forgotten that look? That look of absolute horror. Then he was gone, running. He disappeared from his memories, turning to look down at himself, facedown in a growing puddle of blood.
He felt the fire of bloodlust spread with the pain, growing stronger the closer he came to death. He'd wanted to kill the people that caused this, the people that stole Arturo's life. He'd nearly skipped entirely over being a plus, he'd come back just in time to watch his friend spiral into despair. He'd become a hollow, hungry for vengeance, and in his desire for violence, he'd killed the one person he'd wanted to avenge.
He stared down at himself, brows furrowed in pain. "If I was strong, this wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't have happened...He'd still be alive."
'All you can do is accept it and move forward. Can you accept it?'
"What are you?"
"Your regret, your despair, your fury; you.'
Accept it...he'd won a fight, and it had cost both him and his friend their lives. He had the vague memory of beating the fuck out of someone, enjoying the fact he was refusing to go down over a rigged fight. His pride started all of this, but did he regret it? His obsession with winning was no less now than it had been when he'd been so blissfully ignorant. Arturo had done what he had to to survive, and without realizing, Grimmjow had followed in his footsteps, without even remembering his name.
Could he accept this? He thought he hadn't blamed him, but the pain of his betrayal had the slow burn of regret had made him destroy the things he gave a shit about.
"How do I accept it?"
"You already are. Do you regret what you've become?"
It was never about the money, it was about winning, about earning respect. His fists and his pride earned him a bullet and an afterlife full of regret. But would he do it again differently?
His answer was succinct, confident. "No."
- xxx -
Kurosaki Ichigo
He kept bleeding, there's was too much blood. Even from the distance he was at, it shimmered in the darkness under the moon. Grimmjow hadn't moved, and neither had the cat. Too much time was passing, he was getting nervous, but there was nothing he could do.
He paced, Zangetsu's voice startling him. "He'll be fine."
"What makes you so sure?"
Zangetsu kicked a foot that dangled over the edge of the building, staring up at the sky. "He wants to live. Does there need to be another reason?"
Ichigo kept pacing, looking from his hand, and the blut vene scrawled over his skin, back to Grimmjow's prone form. The darkness was still permeating every aspect of his physical being, so when he died, he felt it ripple through his entire soul. He stiffened, Zangetsu sitting up in shock. The three of them stared over at Grimmjow, and the cat was gone.
He was dead.
He let out a slow, steadying breath. He extended his senses, holding back any panic until he was sure.
Seconds passed.
There was still something. Reiatsu, dim, but there.
His brows furrowed in concern, taking a small step forward.
Reiatsu flooded from Grimmjow in torrents, and he let out a sharp breath in relief. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he was back outside of his body. Reiatsu swirled around Grimmjow in blue streaks like lightning, far more powerful than anything he'd felt from Grimmjow before.
He felt something similar when Ulquiorra ascended to his Segunda Etapa. His reiatsu was heavier, solid, vast.
It swirled in closer, closer, until it settled over his skin.
Grimmjow wasn't in his resurreccion form, this was something different.
This looked close to his resurrection, but it was wilder, sharper. His claws were longer, black fur racing up his arms, streaked with teal stripes. His tail was just as long, if not longer, coiling around him like a snake. His feet were clawed much like Ulquiorra, near talons sinking into the sand. The armor he wore like a second skin was segmented with rivers of black, every inch of the Espada a bladed weapon. It seemed fitting, that someone so aggressive would be so inherently adamant that others stay away.
His mask was gone, his hair streaked back from his face in wild abandon, blue streaked with black. The lines of where his mask had been were marked on his face in thick black lines, blue eyes even more startling against them.
Grimmjow looked to Ichigo and smiled, flashing a mouth full of razor sharp teeth. "Well, looks like I ain't dead after all."
Ichigo couldn't help but flash a cocky smile back at him, relieved he was alive, that he'd finally made progress. "You came damn close." He reached back for Zangetsu. Ready for a test run?"
Grimmjow laughed, the sound full of giddy exhilaration. "Like I would let you refuse." Grimmjow blurred out of sight, the sand displaced from the mere power behind his sudden movement. He was so much faster than before.
With Ichigo's body strained from keeping such a tight grip on blut vene, he was more sluggish than usual. He drew his sword and blocked his fraccion's attack, his expression a mirror of Grimmjow's. "Finally." He'd been waiting for this for days, he never thought he'd get to see it so soon.
They exchanged a frantic, quick series of blows, and Ichigo found he'd already drawn his other sword. He hadn't even thought about it, it simply felt right. This fight wasn't about training, survival, dominance, it was purely for the joy of it.
- xxx -
So I wrote some vague backstory for Grimmjow. I have it all laid out in detail, but I decided to keep it vague here because the specifics aren't really relevant to this story. If anyone is interested though, I might make a oneshot of a living Grimmjow before he was killed. Of all of the Espada, he seemed like one of the newest, most modern of the bunch, so I filled in the gaps and took liberties.
I hope this wasn't too boring ~ Also side OC arrancar character isn't suppose to be anything special, not really. I've never been too interested in inserting a bunch of OCs, only if I really have to. Also, prepare yourself for another timeskip.
Thanks for reading guys!
Current Espada Ranking
King Strawberry
0 - Harribel
1 - Ulquiorra
2 - Starrk & Lilynette
3 - Grimmjow
4 - Zommari
5 - Aaroniero
6 - Szayelaporro
7 - Shawlong
8 - Cyan, Mila Rose, Apacci (Quimera Parca: Ayon)
9 - Yylfordt
10 - Edrad Liones
Fallen Espada
Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck
Fraccion: Dondochakka Birstanne (deceased) - Pesche Guatiche - Bawabawa (deceased)
