A Sardonic Liaison
30 Drabbles for Grimmjow and Ichigo
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Chapter Title: Asylum
Author: gogodgene
Pairing: Grimmjow x Ichigo
Fandom: Bleach
Theme: #20, "The Road Home"
Rating: PG 13 sap?! wtf, sir?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction. Alas, everything belongs to Kubo Tite.
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Hueco Mundo is for those of a parched heart. This is why Hollows feel at home here; there is nothing to hope for once you have seen this place.
Grimmjow doesn't belong. While all the other Espada have accepted their fate, Jaggerjack questions his own exsistance and constantly wonders if fate hates him. All the other Arrancar bow to Aizen's feet as if he were their God. The Sexta Espada hates the bastard with every ounce of his being. The Hollows do whatever Aizen commands. The blue-haired being defies everything the man has ever told him.
This is not his home.
Grimmjow can faintly remember when he had a home; before dying, before becoming a Hollow. He remembers a body of water, the smell of salt on the air, cigarette smoke, long sunlit days, and colorful nights filled with people.
A home is where people like you, people have fun with you, people care for you. Not here. Everyone jumps at their own shadow; everything is paranoid. You never know who tomorrow's enemy will be. No one can remember what fun is here. This is a place for the desolate. They all clamber onto that last strand of organization, humanity; they're all-knowing and all-seeing God. No one cares for each other here. This is not a family. You are a number, easily replaced by the next person in line.
The Arrancar hates this place. This sea of sand where you can look up into the only colorful thing here, but can't enjoy it because He's watching. It's enough to make you go insane.
Grimmjow misses color, water, fresh breezes, and feelings of a human soul. The only good thing to ever come from this place was the opportunity for a good battle. A war. He supposes he was like that in his other life, too; a fighter with no regrets. He feels alive in the middle of a battlefield.
This is why in this boring, uncaring, non-colorful world, he hates everything.
And he wishes it were all just a bad dream.
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It's hard to escape to from this hell hole. Everyone is always keeping tabs on everyone. Anyone who's ten feet away from another person will be asked 'Where are you going'. It's pathetic.
So when Jaggerjack decides that if he stays here any longer he's going to kill somebody and wants to leave, it only takes two seconds before someone stops him. It was just Grimmjow's luck that it had to be Aizen-bastard's little boy toy.
"You're leaving again." Of all the goddamn people.
"Ya got somethin' to say about it?" Grimmjow turned to the accursed midget, effectively cutting off his concentration on the portal in front of him. It closed in silence.
"Aizen-sama is always curious as to your whereabouts. You always leave without warning." The Sexta Espada snorted.
"So fuckin'-what? It's not like I'm goin' against his plans or anythin'. I just gotta get outta here sometimes because ya'll bug the shit outta me."
"Aizen-sama does not appreciate your abrupt absenteeism." Grimmjow stared at the hole in Ulquiorra's neck and wondered off-handedly if he could reach down and pull out the Hollow's insides. Maybe his vocal chords; the other Espada's voice always annoyed the hell out of him everytime he opened his mouth. The blue-haired Arrancar clicked his tongue, not bothering to reply, and opened back up the portal which he had accidentally closed. "He will not tolerate this much more," Ulquiorra continued, his facial expression never changing.
"Like I give a flyin'-fuck."
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It was night in the world of the living when he arrived. He didn't particularly fit into this world either, but he had a shelter here. The Arrancar headed straight for the only human house he knew to find solice from a long day in the land of nothing.
He hovered in front of the only entrance to the house that he had ever taken and stared at the open window. He looked to the sleeping figure in the bed right beneath the pane of glass, almost looking peaceful. Grimmjow knew that the teenager kept his window open because of the Espada's spurratic visits; it was somehow endearing. Jaggerjack climbed into the window, the soft bed looking very inviting. He promptly settled next to the Shinigami, who was snoring quietly, and pressed himself close to the sleeping kid. Then, before closing his eyes, he kissed the back of the sarcastic teenager's neck. He would never display this kind of behavior if the kid were awake. He sighed contently and drifted off to sleep.
This wasn't home, but it was better than nothing.