Edit Note: Oh my... Can't believe I managed to make a really sad spelling error of a word that's four letters long. My english teachers would cry if they ever saw that. Thank you to APurpleAvocado for pointing that out as well as other grammatical errors. I may eventually scour through the whole chapter for some of the other things you pointed out however my brain needs a small break from this chapter -_-;;
Thank you!
A couple weeks had passed after the fight and near-messy situation and Ulquiorra had gathered several new insights on his 'observation specimens' via simply listening and watching their daily antics. Several... bizarre insights.
From small skirmishes between Grimmjow and Shiro, he gleaned that the latter was a master at, as quoted by the blunette, "pissing others off to the point that they wanted to snap his neck" but his strength, flexibility, and speed were more often than not, superior to those who sought vengeance and had the audacity to challenge him. The albino was also the most volatile of the three, switching from playful to angry with a single word for reasons known to no one else but him.
Ichigo said it was because his twin was bad at expressing himself in an understandable way. Grimmjow claimed it was because the albino was like that of an impregnated woman twenty-four seven with severe mental issues. And the albino himself declared that the people who pissed him off just had bad timing and managed to get him when he was in a foul mood, the "poor unlucky bastards."
The last was something Ulquiorra highly doubted when he took into consideration one instance in which Shiro had been inexplicably pleased about something but when someone attempted to greet him, he flew into a sudden fury that took an entire box of newly bought (stolen) candy bars and one badly bruised and confused victim to pacify.
So the albino was one unstable, possibly hazardous variable he was inclined to keep an eye on. Nothing he wasn't already aware of.
As for Ichigo, he was indeed an enigma Ulquiorra was still puzzled over. According to the other two, the equally temperamental but generally most pleasant of them was also apparently the strongest fighter in the slums. He was allegedly the only one who had defeated a legendary fighting beast, Zaraki Kenpachi, in a one-on-one fight and lived to tell the tale.
And yet, according to said person himself, the ginger had a wistful aspiration to become a doctor.
While Ulquiorra could accept the possibility of that considering how quickly and professionally Ichigo patched Grimmjow up after his fights and how he amiably agreed to bandage anyone who came to him for first aid, he simply couldn't fathom why someone with such fighting prowess would settle for tending the wounds of others unless he had something to gain from doing so.
Szayel, for example, chose to heal because it permitted him to scam enormous amounts of money out of others whilst not needing to worry about defending himself since he had Aizen-sama's protection. Ichigo needed neither protection nor apparently money as he never forced compensation from his patients (though he accepted any voluntarily offered gifts from some who adamantly refused to leave unless he took them). It was as if the man simply had the goodwill to cater to those who were in pain, a compassion that was foreign and highly doubtful in his mind.
Ulquiorra was miffed however he felt no need to probe further. If the lethal but overall innocuous ginger was satisfied with steering clear of fighting unless a drastic situation called for it, then the level of potential threat he posed decreased dramatically.
Frantic roars and cheers brought his attention back to his surroundings which he had momentarily placed into the background of his mind as he contemplated his findings. He was standing a safe distance away from the pungent rats of the slums and their sweaty, greasy skin while still hovering close enough to peer through the throng of trash to where an enormous man with an eyepatch was savagely exchanging blows with Grimmjow.
A bet, Ichigo had informed him earlier, to claim the title of strongest fighter in the area. Since the fight between the orange-haired male and the beast identified as Zaraki had been done with no spectators save for Shiro and Grimmjow, it was still assumed throughout the territory that the blood-thirsty giant was the strongest with the blunette being the only one brave -and foolish- enough to challenge that claim. Shiro was another infamous 'king' however his fights were supposedly too spontaneous in occurrence and far too bodily-endangering for those who got to close to be enjoyed by viewers. Thus the conflict between Zaraki and Grimmjow was deemed to be the official battle for the figurative crown of the slums.
It sounded positively inane and ludicrous to Ulquiorra but Ichigo had pointed out that if the only things one had to do on a day-to-day basis was eat, sleep, fight, drink, and maybe engage in sexual intercourse, then fighting tended to be one of the more interesting options to pursue and the one which guaranteed the most excitement.
He was far from being one to find amusement in violence unless it served some sort of purpose to his lord or to his own sadistic tendencies however Ulquiorra was inclined to agree that of the available options, fighting did indeed provide the most engagement.
Focusing back on the two wrestling fighters, Ulquiorra carefully thought about what he knew about the blunette and was quite startled about how short the list was compared to the far more guarded twins despite the rather long passage of time since their first meeting.
He knew without a single doubt that Grimmjow loved fighting, both from their first fight and from simple observation. Whereas Shiro could quickly get bored with searching for and subduing others, the blunette actively sought worthy opponents even if it required riling up entire groups of thugs in order to satisfy his blood-thirst. That was a characteristic Ulquiorra was quite familiar with, especially when one had to deal with the careless and barbaric actions of the pernicious and savage quinta.
Thinking of Nnoitra was the equivalent of imagining having to babysit a rabid dog. An unpleasant thought and one Ulquiorra swiftly removed from his mind.
But he was digressing.
Drifting back to the blunette as it was unacceptable for him to lose his original train of thought so easily, he drew up the fact that he knew the blunette was not particularly close to anyone besides the twins and apparently the man he was currently fighting.
And oddly enough... that was about it.
The blunette had no constant lovers aside from the occasional one night stand though even those had been sparse recently to the concern of the twins who proclaimed sex as the only thing that rivaled fights for Grimmjow. As far as family went, Ulquiorra knew he had no parents but that he possibly had a sibling. He was hesitant to consider that last part fact as it was a topic that rarely occurred in his presence.
He couldn't determine if the three were cunning enough to keep all talk of potential weaknesses out of his range of hearing or if it was pure coincidence. Normally, the latter would be discarded as an improbability immediately because it was foolish to ever underestimate threats however these pieces of trash behaved in the most unexpected manners that Ulquiorra was at a loss of what was safe to assume and what would be considered an erroneous presumption.
He watched a strike snap Zaraki's head to the side and then a returning fist slam into Grimmjow's ribcage, both with a force that would have downed a lesser man. Neither fighter had made any feints prior to their attacks nor had they attempted to dodge the other's attack. Both had straightforwardly delivered heavy blows. Both had demonstrated nothing more than punches of open raw strength.
Was someone whose fighting style was so simple and honest be capable of deception and evasive behavior? Experience told him no but again, it felt wrong to make any assumptions without more context when dealing with the slum's trash.
Feeling the tell-tale signs of a headache that indicated he was attempting to process things too quickly that were beyond his accumulated knowledge, Ulquiorra let his thoughts conclude with the fact that it was merely coincidence. There would be opportunities to learn about the blunette's background in depth so long as he continued to observe him and as far as he was aware, there was no need to rush through his observations.
A thin rivulet of blood dripped from a cut on Grimmjow's lip and Ulquiorra soon found his gaze fixated on following the crimson liquid glide down slick tan skin. The blunette really was at the peak of perfection when his bright blue hair and eyes were paired with rich red blood, he thought with mild approval. But for some unfathomable reason, it wasn't quite as aesthetically appealing when the blood belonged to him and when it was placed there by someone else.
He remembered the beautiful liquid that had decorated the man when they had fought. That had been a truly wonderful sight. Ulquiorra had always been a private sadistic artist and seeing his handiwork on a flawless specimen like the street fighter was a luxury he rarely enjoyed since most of his victims tended to be rotting, fat politicians or other equally filthy trash.
Grimmjow was still unnecessary trash however he was akin to one of those shiny objects that was at the very least pleasant to the eye.
Ulquiorra wondered briefly about why that reasoning sounded just a tad weaker than usual.
"Yo ghosty, I know Grimmy's ass is hot but stare any longer and ya might jus' wanna take a picture and hang it on yer wall. Might save ya some starin' effort."
The infuriating nickname -one of many he had for some reason accumulated since he spent more time in the slums- shoved his previous thoughts away as he fixed an imperceptibly narrowed gaze on the grinning albino who had somehow successfully managed to plant himself beside him without his awareness.
He had long since given up on being surprised by the slippery presence of Shiro. It was a sting to his ego however sensing the albino was the equivalent of attempting to keep track of the primera, an impossibility that only Aizen-sama seemed to be able to overcome. Such skills made Shiro all the more suspicious in his mind however the other only did this when he was playing pranks or trying to scare someone. Harmless intentions and thus ignored for the time being. He would deal with the albino's tricky slipperiness should an unpleasant situation arise that required him to do so. It was an abnormal gamble for him to take but all the data he had gathered up until now indicated it was relatively safe to assume that the trio posed no threat -direct and otherwise- to Aizen-sama and could thus be placed solely under strict visual supervision.
Facial features sliding back to unreadable from the slightly irritated one it was before, he uttered pointedly, "Preposterous."
Lithe shoulders shrugged as Shiro leaned against a wall nearby and folded his arms behind his head to make a makeshift pillow, his posture looking surprisingly relaxed considering the albino still didn't trust him and it would be a matter of simple action to utilize dirty tactics to restrain his swiftly and subtly since he was alone. Ulquiorra surreptitiously flicked his gaze around, wondering if this leisurely behavior was due to the close proximity of the more colorful twin.
As if to validate his conclusion of their unpredictability, he was proven wrong.
Despite his seemingly oblivious posture of eyes staring blankly over at the fight and hands threaded behind his snowy head, Shiro said idly, "Ichi went to the city to nab some stuff for us. He ain't gonna be back until later." Ulquiorra gave no indication of his surprise by the disturbingly accurate response to his internal suspicion and Shiro didn't say anything else afterwards so they settled into a somewhat awkward silence.
Said silence was disturbed by a sudden eruption of groans and cheers, far greater in volume than the previous one. Grimmjow was pinned beneath the much larger Zaraki, the former scowling heavily while the latter grinned manically.
"Thirty-eighth one brat."
The blunette growled under his breath, "Yeah yeah, keep gloating while you can Zaraki. I'll definitely kick yer ass soon. Then we'll see whose laughin' like a fuckin' hyena." The large man gave a bark of laughter as the two fighters separated and stood, bumping bruised fists and cracking bloody savage grins at each other which accentuated the rippling power in their powerful bodies that could be glimpsed through the ragged state of their shirts. The picture they painted was that of two aggressive animals acknowledging each other's strength, each of them radiating their own power and form of pride.
How detestable for a mere piece of scum to wrest his prey's attention away from him. He was the only predator who should be drawing that bestial glory out of that perfectly chiseled form. Ulquiorra swiftly focused his gaze on the wall just beyond the two fighters' heads, unsettled by how simple it was for anger to seethe in his eyes when he looked at the man Zaraki occupying Grimmjow's gaze.
Had it always been so easy for him to be angered when he was not the only focus of his target's attention? He couldn't remember. And somehow, he knew he didn't want to know the answer to that.
A small pink blur shot through the crowd and leaped onto Zaraki's shoulder, and an ecstatic "Ken-chan!" was shrieked out. Ignoring the tiny hands roughly tugging on his spiky hair and the incredulous looks on some people's faces, the giant man gave a careless wave that was returned by the blunette before he turned and began lumbering off, his young charge -he couldn't quite get himself to believe the ball of... bubbly pink energy was legitimately related to such a beastly man- dangling off his back and humming something terribly off tune.
Grimmjow spat out a bit of blood onto the ground before he stretched his sore muscles and pushed through the clawing crowd to where Ulquiorra and Shiro were. Up to that point, Ulquiorra had been only vaguely aware of the albino beside him however once he was no longer completely absorbed by Grimmjow, he realized golden orbs had been staring at him intently with a thoughtful look.
Ignoring the wary glance directed back at him, Shiro tossed Ulquiorra a mischievous smirk, something that simply screamed he intended to do something very unpleasant, before the albino pushed away from the wall and slowly sauntered confidently forward to meet the blue-haired fighter.
Placing a slim white hand with painted black nails on a firm chiseled chest, Shiro melded his body to the front of Grimmjow's, his other hand sliding up to lightly caress his slowly bruising cheek as he purred, "Poor Grimmy~ Did kitty get beat up by th' big bad wolf?" Annoyed azure glared down into mocking gold as Grimmjow snapped, "Put a sock in it Shiro. Bastard just got a li'l lucky. I'll kick his ass next time." He seemed utterly unaffected by the albino's intimate touch which garnered more than a few ogles and sour looks from the spectators.
For Ulquiorra, he wasn't quite sure what he was feeling. It was like that peculiar consuming burning rage he had felt when he had first seen Grimmjow with the other twin only it seemed to have escalated in strength. It was suffocating, unfounded, and entirely incomprehensible and should thus be removed from his system at once.
And yet, when that snowy head turned to glance at him -a smirk visible for a brief moment- and then those same smirking lips pressed against Grimmjow's amidst the curses and cat-calling from the crowd of trash, all Ulquiorra could register was an intense blaze of anger.
No not anger.
Rage.
It was only due to his incapacity to act upon his emotions and his many years of keeping his self-control under tight reign that he did not shoot the albino full of holes. Never had he wanted to kill someone as unreasonably much as he did now and it was frightening how strong his internal response was to what was in perfect honesty an insignificant gesture. He was only marginally mollified when Grimmjow scowled and shoved Shiro away.
"Don't do that when ya just had a smoke Shi. Ya know I hate the fuckin' taste."
Shiro's sly smirk only grew as he teased playfully, "O' course. Kitty only likes sweet things ne?"
Gold briefly met his gaze once more and Ulquiorra felt as though there was some sort of hidden message he was supposed to be receiving. A warning perhaps disguised in the form of a simple hard truth.
A slight pain stung his chest and bewildered, Ulquiorra looked down to see if he had been struck by something somehow. He saw no indications of an injury but the faint sensation of pain lingered. What had happened? Mere words could not possibly harm him. He had never heard of such a thing and he was a master of inflicting pain and he had long since steeled himself to any degrading words.
He didn't know what to do. It wasn't as though the pain was life-threatening but it was worrisome that he could not pinpoint the source of it. All he knew was that thinking of the blunette and the words Shiro had spoken displeased him in some inexplicable manner.
He would soon learn, through various people, that such a pain was special and that it happened when one's feelings were -intentionally or not- negatively impacted by the words or actions of a desired person or someone close to that person. He would even learn that it had its own particular name: heartache.
Grimmjow sort of registered the white leech clinging onto him but his attention was more focused on the emerald-eyed figure standing just outside the crowd of seriously-pissing-him-off-people surrounding him who had the strangest expression he had ever seen.
Well, okay. To be fair, he could only just barely discern a retardedly small furrow of thin black eyebrows and the slightest glimpse of an unidentifiable emotion in those ridiculously pretty green orbs but still. Grimmjow's instinct screamed that the guy was weirder than usual and he'd be damned if there ever came the day he decided to ignore his gut.
"Worried 'bout ghosty?"
The lilted watery tone of his friend's voice made him glance down. Blue orbs narrowed at the mischief reflected in a cheshire cat-like grin as Grimmjow snarled, "Alright, what'd ya do to piss 'im off?" Shiro cackled, one of his creepy ones that sent shivers down anyone's spine who wasn't used to it before gleeful gold dipped in obsidian black met his gaze squarely again.
"Testin' 'im is all. An' I say he passed."
Grimmjow made a small face at that. Shiro tended to come up with the strangest albeit effective ways to determine who was a friend or foe. He himself had been forced to endure three months of an inconsistent combination of aggressive and some random provocative gestures from both twins before they had gone through some emotional shit he still didn't understand and now, they were best buddies for fucking life until one of them cracked and went on a homicidal spree which Grimmjow had a feeling was going to be either him or Ichi if the albino ever got his hands on pure black coffee ever again.
Point being, Shiro's 'tests' were a major pain in the ass and the victim or as the albino called it, the 'clueless participant,' was typically left pretty damn pissed or super twisted by the end. He had ended up as both royally peeved and with a corrupt nature courtesy mostly of the damned albino.
Whatever.
At least this meant Shiro was giving Ulqui the okay which meant no more breathing down his neck whenever they were together. Grimmjow certainly couldn't complain. Especially since that meant he could probably spar with the mysterious pale raven-haired male without getting forcibly shipped to the hospital after getting one measly sucker punch from him which he knew the stupid twins weren't above doing. Goddamn he hated it when people interfered with his fights. The only reason Ichigo and Shiro could get away with it was because even if he complained and argued, they'd just kick his ass and make him listen because they could and that just fucking sucked like a mutt that pissed on your shoe.
Stupid strong bastards. Why was the only way he could get them to fight him somewhat seriously was when they treated him like a little kid?
And dammit he knew it wasn't a good idea to stay awake so late last night calculating how much more money they needed before he could get Nel a winter coat since now his brain was now fried like an overstimulated wire and was running on so many different tangents it was giving him a fucking killer migraine as though three bitches were screaming wildly in his head.
Grumbling darkly under his breath, Grimmjow pried Shiro off his front before striding to where Ulqui was. He could have sworn he saw a flicker of uncertainty on said person's face but it was gone faster than he could say "Fuck" and so he chose to assume it was just his overworking imagination going batshit delusional on him.
"Ulqui."
He managed to let a shit-eating smirk grace his face when he saw the irritation that was instantly reflected in emerald pools. He definitely saw that and it was always a blast when he gave people nicknames that they didn't like since they had the same reflex reaction to them. If Ulqui was able to react like normal to his detested name, he was probably more or less fine. Ichigo would kick his ass if he ever heard that was how he diagnosed people but hey, what the doctor to-be didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Rolling his neck tiredly and relishing in the ensuing satisfying crack, Grimmjow glanced around and asked, "Ichi still out?"
Shiro sneered dangerously at people who still hovered nearby, scaring away all the lingering admirers before he spun around to face them with a cheerful expression that managed to look somewhat deranged as he replied, "Yep. He prob'ly needed t' stop by 'Ryuu's place for some dough though." Grimmjow raised an eyebrow and it wasn't at Shiro's weird bipolarness. If Shiro was mentioning his lover's name now, that pretty much cemented some amount of his faith in Ulqui which was definitely surprising.
What had the albino seen from such a short test that made him suddenly take a freaking one-eighty in his opinions of the guy he was ready to kill in any given moment? It had taken him three freaking months of constant tests to get the bastard to trust him and he hadn't done anything more threatening to them their first meeting other than wrestle them into his "house" out of some shitty rain.
Deciding to forget about it since Shiro rarely made any sense and trying to follow his thought process was adding hollering drunk morons to the three bitches still squealing in his head, Grimmjow said in response to what he assumed was an unasked question, "'Ryuu is Shiro's Juliet. What that prick sees in an idiot like Shi, I dunno but they've got some weird-ass chemistry since they've been able to stay together for as long as they have."
Ulqui's expression remained carefully blank though he did nod his head in acknowledgement as Shiro plopped onto the ground to sadistically torture ants that had begun a small parade in front of him. What the albino found so fun about squishing tiny-ass little things like ants, he would never know nor did he really want to. Ulqui was the weirder one in his opinion.
Grimmjow really could not figure out what the sort-of-stranger was thinking half the time and that was partially the reason why he didn't elaborate any more on the matter. The other main reason was because Shiro hadn't given him any indication it was okay to say more. Uryuu's identity was strictly protected, not only for his bodily safety but also for the reputation he had to uphold as a resident of the high-class in the city. Shiro trusted Ulqui to the point of using one of his pet names for his lover but the fact remained that he hadn't used Uryuu's actual name so saying anything else was a big no-no.
If Ulqui was put off by the lack of further information, he was damn good at hiding it like usual. Instead, impassive green -which had been staring intently at him for an unnervingly long time- focused down on the albino, curiosity tinged in his mellow, quiet voice as he said, "Your brother frequently goes into the city."
Shiro blinked blankly as he craned his neck to what had to be an impossible angle to look up at him and then smacked a fist into his palm when he realized what the other was indirectly asking. "Ya really gotta say more ghosty, it's hard t' figure out what yer tryin' t' ask. Yer lucky I'm such a smart dude." Grimmjow snorted. Shiro stuck his tongue out petulantly in retribution before he continued, "But yeah, Ichi's has t' go 'cause he's th' only one who knows what shit we need an' don' even get me started on th' medical crap. Plus he's a pro at dealin' wit' th' government dogs wit'out gettin' his ass hauled to a station. Me an' Grimm don' do so hot when we gotta deal wit' shit all proper-like."
Ulqui nodded slightly before they fell into a half awkward, half comfortable silence. It was leaning more towards uncomfortable if one were to ask Grimmjow and the blunette stirred restlessly, itching to either take a nap or drop by the house of one of his many connections and sleep in their closet for the next few years. He hated having to wait for Ichigo when he was injured and sleep-deprived. He felt more exposed to possible threats and though both Shiro and Ulqui were around, he despised feeling weak and having to rely on others.
Just when he was about to declare he was fine and charge off to do something that was probably going to be stupid and reckless, Shiro abruptly leaped to his feet and tossed a small object in Ulqui's direction, the raven-haired man catching it with reflexes that put many of the slum fighters to shame. Eyeing the roll of bandages, Grimmjow swiveled a piercing glare onto the grinning albino and said venomously, "Shi, what the fuck? If ya had some freaking extras left over, why didn't ya say anythin' you ass, 'stead of playin' with some ants?"
A pale hand waved carelessly in the air. "Don' get yer panties in a knot Grimmy. Ichi tol' me t' use 'em only as a last resort." Blue brows furrowed in mild bafflement. "Is Ichi not comin' or somethin'?" He let a bit of worry seep into his voice though he was fully aware that messing with Ichigo when he had precious newly bought supplies on hand was the same as signing a very painful death wish. Shiro shot him another grin, "He's comin' but I'm bored an' that's a last resort situation in m' humble opinion."
Grimmjow felt tension drain from him though the muscles in his hands twitched, the desire to strangle the annoying albino insanely high as said trolling bastard called lazily, "Yo ghosty, patch whatever ya can wit' those will ya. I ain't good wit' bandagin' an' you look like ya got yerself some steady hands."
Emerald orbs looked down at the bandages before looking up and briefly meeting his azure gaze. He would have laughed at the utter confusion barely apparent on Ulqui's face if he hadn't been so damn pissed. "Oi Shiro, being fuckin' bored doesn't mean shit. Ichi's gonna be pissed if he finds out yer gonna-"
But the white demon was already gone, not a trace of him lingering around aside from the pitiful bodies of squished ants. Grimmjow felt a vein throb in irritation- fast sadistic little fucker sure knew how to make a speedy getaway when he wanted to. Scowling, he turned a bit to face Ulqui again but to his startled surprise, the pale raven-haired man was magically right behind him, his piercing gaze making his skin crawl in a manner that wasn't wholly unpleasant. He swiftly quit that line of thought and focused more on the fact that he hadn't even heard the other move.
"The hell? When'd you get there?"
He was royally peeved when Ulqui ignored him and just began to attempt to tug off the remains of his tattered shirt. Grimmjow could have sworn that one of his brain's circuits or whatever just shorted. Okay seriously, what the fuck? He didn't mind forwardness but considering what an uptight prick Ulqui had been making himself out to be up until now, it was really weird that he would blatantly attempt to strip someone out in the open like this.
"Oi Ulqui the fuck're you doin'?"
Placid emerald scanned his exposed torso as he replied neutrally, "I am heeding that man's request since I do not have any urgent matters to attend to at the moment." Grimmjow spent a very short moment wondering why Ulqui never referred to any of them by their names as deft, leather-gloved hands poked and prodded his body, intelligent eyes seeming to map out each and every location that garnered even the softest hiss from him. Ulqui's gaze flicked back up, snapping him out of his thoughts as he ordered quietly but authoritatively, "Sit. I refuse to assist anyone who is as unsteady as a narcoleptic idiot."
He had no fucking clue what narcoleptic meant but the steady gleam in Ulqui's eyes told him that he could either sit his decidedly tired ass down like a good boy or get dropped onto his ass while bitching about it. Either scenario, he was sitting. His pride balked and snarled at the idea of obeying someone else even if they were stronger than him and he saw the faint tense posture Ulqui's body adopted as his belligerent attitude fought to hold his ground against the smaller man.
He listened to no one but himself.
He didn't need someone else to take care of him.
He didn't-
Watery aquamarine orbs stared down at him. "Gwimmy... Gwimmy... don- don't weave Nel by herthelf." Little cherub hands touched his bandaged face, large drops of salty water dripping onto his cheek as those same scarily frail hands tugged incessantly on his hair. "Don't weave Nel like momma did... don't hurt yourthelf and weave Nel behind... Gwimmy..."
"Nel doethn't want nii-chan to hurt for her thake anymore."
Resignation washed over him as he grudgingly lowered himself to the ground. Now he remembered why he always waited for Ichigo after a fight. He needed the other to cover up his injuries so that they didn't look as bad as they were. Nel's innocent and naive eyes didn't need to see the scars and bruises marring his flesh again. She didn't need to see the remnants of battles that had been fought to earn money for her sake even after he had promised to stop. So if swallowing his pride was the only thing preventing him from protecting her from seeing his despicable world as much as he could then by all the damnable gods he would smash it into the ground and step all over it.
Nel was more important than pride. Nel would always come before anything and everything else. She always had been and always would be the only thing that absolutely mattered in his shithole of a miserable life besides the twins and maybe a few other people.
He could handle something as little as this.
Ulqui didn't say anything to the abrupt change in attitude towards his order much to his relief. Instead, the pale man knelt down beside him and began accurately prodding the places that had garnered a greater reaction than other minor injuries.
Ulqui may not be quite at the same level as Ichi -who could somehow just look at him and identify all his injured areas which never failed to weird him the fuck out- but he was demonstrating a practiced ease that was definitely not something someone who looked to be around the same relative age as them could get just from school.
So Grimmjow, who spoke native jack-ass and who wanted to take his mind off of the memories of a teary Nel, said bluntly, "Yer weird." Affronted emerald met his gaze and it eased some of his internal turmoil somehow. Anger and irritation he could deal with. They were familiar, normal. And Ulqui's smooth low voice was like a balm to his aching soul or some poetic shit like that.
"Then you are an insufferable fool."
Insults really were the medicine for assholes and douches. He was feeling even better already.
Grimmjow cracked a shit-eating grin- he couldn't really argue since it was true. At least, according to Uryuu it was true. No one else he knew except possibly Ichi would use a stupidly complex word like 'insufferable.'
"... You... are an anomaly yourself."
The quiet statement, spoken just below normal hearing levels, reached his sensitive ears. He had no idea what the fuck an 'anomaly' was so he just asked, "How so?" Once again, that perfect immovable mask reflected nothing though there was a glimmer of surprise peeking out from emerald depths. He had clearly not been expecting Grimmjow to pick up on that last line which he felt he should be at least a bit offended by. He was a delinquent to the core but that didn't mean he was friggin' deaf.
Ulqui traced the borders of an injury, seeming to measure it with some internal ruler -or just stalling for time, he couldn't really tell- before he reluctantly said lowly, "You fail to behave within the scope of my expectations." Grimmjow gave him his best flat look. He reiterated, "You're behavior is unpredictable."
Satisfied that Ulqui had spoken human tongue and not some queen bitch language he couldn't understand, Grimmjow let a weaker-than-usual-but-still-confident smirk slip onto his face as he said, "Ya say that like 's a bad thing." A particularly more forceful pressure was applied to one of his wounds, causing him to wince a bit before he glared darkly at the other who continued his ministrations as though he had done nothing wrong.
"Fucker."
Cool emerald met his gaze as Ulqui retorted stoically, "Spontaneity is useful however if you wear your emotions on your sleeve as you are apt to do, then it is meaningless."
Grimmjow narrowed his eyes at the various subtle subtexts in that one short but annoyingly complexly worded sentence he managed to more or less understand. Well holy shit on a rotting stick, sitting through hours of listening to Uryuu rant did come in handy.
"That why you look like a damn robot all the time?"
Ulqui's hands stilled briefly at his question before continuing their task as the paler man murmured, "... Irrelevant." Sounded pretty damn relevant to him but Grimmjow didn't press the matter. Ulqui had held back questions when he had acted strangely so it was only fair he do the same. And dammit he needed to stop spending time with people who had morals. A few years ago and he wouldn't have given two shits about fairness and crap.
They lapsed back into awkwardly companionable silence, Grimmjow chewing on his thoughts and Ulqui... being Ulqui and thinking whatever he was in his overly complex head. In that peaceful silence, he would have almost believed that it was Ichigo and not Ulqui that was beside him because damn the other's seemingly delicate hands were careful and surprisingly gentle. A small smirk twitched the corners of his mouth up as he could just imagine the bristling indignation Ulqui would probably feel at being compared to some slum trash he for some reason frequently visited.
His smirk swiftly disappeared however when slim fingers skimmed his chest for the briefest moment. Shit. He was overly horny after weeks of no sex, he was really un-fucking-believably tired, and his skin fucking burned from the completely innocent touch. It only just occurred to him that Ulqui had moved closer to inspect him better and the proximity of their bodies was making him hot as fuck. The fact he hadn't noticed until now was a pretty bitchy punch to his sex-obsessed ego but he had to focus and get rid of an itty bitty problem. He swiftly brought up in image of some nameless ugly old fart into his head wearing nothing except a bikini and thankfully, that was enough to quell what was working its way to becoming a very interested Grimmjow junior.
Goddamn Shiro. Little fucker knew he liked slim, toned, pretty faces who could pack a punch. And the piece of shit had just dumped one onto him and left them alone like it was no one's business. He was going to wring that pale white neck the next time he caught the slippery bastard.
As he stewed over future gory death plans for Shiro, Grimmjow failed to notice the calculating look simmering in heated emerald.
It had taken great self-control on Ulquiorra's part not to react when he saw smoldering emotions burning in those wild blue orbs. Grimmjow had looked as if he wanted to fight again except it seemed a bit different than before. More aggressive, more volatile, more... desiring. He had never received such a confusing look before and it was more than just a tad disconcerting.
It had fueled the building fire of something inside him that was threatening to break free from the careful confines of his apathy. He didn't know what it was but it had propelled his fingers to unnecessarily touch, or rather, caress scarred flesh in a manner that was most unbecoming of him. No, even more than that, he had agreed to bandage another's wounds knowing full well such a task required close body quarters.
His eyes widened fractionally, too imperceptible for the distracted blunette to notice as he came to an even far more disconcerting realization. He had been so very close to revealing things about himself, things only Aizen-sama and perhaps Gin-sama were privy to and only because they were already relatively aware of his circumstances. And yet, here he had been mere minutes ago, willingly considering to disclose something as intimate as the reasons for his carefully constructed mask to this insignificant piece of trash who he may or may not kill in the future.
Why?
He valued personal space both mental and physical just beneath his lord and to have voluntarily broken his own set boundary was ludicrously surreal.
And yet, it had happened.
What was he doing?
Was this necessary for his observations?
Was he still doing his job in a professional manner?
He didn't know.
Was this a sign of incompetency on his part?
Was this a psychological trap planned by the blunette?
Or worse, were the walls he had carefully crafted around his emotions more fragile than he had previously assumed since none had ever dared to try to breach them until now?
Ulquiorra facial expression remained carefully blank but his mind was in a whirlwind of chaotic confusion. He did not like this utter lack of control and had he been a lesser person, he would have begun displaying symptoms of hyperventilation. Had he known his regular routine and mannerisms would be so disturbingly disrupted simply by interacting with the blunette, he would have stayed far away and simply continued to observe from a safe distance away.
Were the distractions this man caused him enough to convince his infuriatingly hesitant hand to kill him? His logic incessantly demanded yes however his body refused to acknowledge this decision. Some unreasonable instinct was guiding it to continue to carefully bandage the worst of the street fighter's injuries, using the single roll sparingly but effectively. He had never shown such care when tending injuries, even for himself, and he simply could not discern what this inconceivable man was doing to him.
But when Ulquiorra risked another glance at Grimmjow's face, what he saw made all the noise clamoring in his head fall silent.
It was faint, but there was a very slight hue of red on smooth, prominent cheeks just below averted azure pools that were for some reason fixed to the sidewalk.
Unconsciously, one of Ulquiorra's hand pulled away from the bandaged torso it had been examining. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with it but for some reason, he yearned to touch that dusting of red, to feel the warmth he knew would be there that he had never been able to encounter prior to this very moment.
Unfortunately- no, very fortunately he scolded himself- a familiar curious voice interrupted them.
"What the heck are you two doing outside like this?"
As though they had been in a completely dark room and then the light had abruptly been turned on, the two blinked rapidly before jerking sharply away from each other, creating an exaggeratedly large space between them as Grimmjow said sourly, "The fuck Ichi? Where've you been?"
Thin brow raised appraisingly at the distinct lack of response to his question, Ichigo just shrugged and held up the numerous bags in his hand and replied dryly, "Oh I don't know, buying this week's supply of food and medical shit so a certain somebody doesn't stain the floor with his blood?"
Ulquiorra calmed his slightly racing heart as the two friends slipped into casual bickering, so startled he had been by the interruption to something he felt he had been so close to figuring out. What would he have done if the ginger-haired man hadn't come? Would he have been burned by the warmth emanating from the blunette? Would he have drowned in mesmerizing blue? Would he have lost sight of his purpose of existing?
Did this man who he knew very little about have that strong of a hold over him already?
He was too loyal to his lord and deep down, far too much of a coward to try to answer that.
"-iorra. Ulquiorra!"
The warm, baritone voice so near to him made him look sharply up to where Ichigo's face hovered a close but safe distance away in concern. Chocolate colored eyes glanced from him to the blunette back to him before he finally settled his gaze on Grimmjow and asked, "Where's Shiro?"
Grumbling darkly about the "fucking piece who was so dead when he got his hands on him," Grimmjow said sullenly, "Beats the heck outta me. Just up and ditched us 'cause he got bored the little fucker."
Ulquiorra was not one to believe in the paranormal however he was somewhat inclined to believe Ichigo and Shiro shared some sort of mental connection since several emotions flickered through his warm eyes before he murmured, "Ah, I see." Neither he nor Grimmjow seemed to have received the same message as Ichigo had from that tiny exchange however before he could be questioned, the ginger-haired male faced him again and said, "It's getting kinda late and the area can be a bit nasty once the drunkards start coming out. If you don't mind a bit of a mess, want to spend the night here?"
Grimmjow stared at him with incredulous eyes. Ulquiorra was quite ready to join him. Just yesterday he could recall how wary both twins had been when he and the blunette had stood approximately thirteen and a half inches near each other. And now, not only had one left them together alone while the street fighter had been injured but the other was also offering him to get an even closer glimpse into their personal lives.
What in the world was going on in the minds of these twins?
Ichigo dropped a few bags into the still stunned Grimmjow and said more than asked, "You don't mind do you Grimm?" Oddly enough, Ulquiorra felt somewhat apprehensive as he watched the blunette stare piercingly at the shorter male, as though trying to figure out what he was thinking by simply gazing hard enough, before it disappeared as the fighter grumbled, "Che. Sure, ask the owner of the damn house after ya make the offer."
A hand weighed down by three bags ran through tousled sky-colored locks before Grimmjow shrugged and said, "Whatever. Nel will probably be obsessed with his eyes though."
Nel... the name of the elusive sibling.
He mentally repeated that this was for the sake of obtaining information on a possible exploitable weakness as he wordlessly began following the two fighters. Nothing more, nothing less.
Ulquiorra would never admit that the crack in the stone wall surrounding his heart had just chipped off a little more and that already, it was impossible for him to end the life of the man whose eyes and hair were the color of a freedom he would eventually yearn to have.
A/N: Good grief I've had so many plot bunnies bouncing around in my head and not enough patience to sit and type them out that this chapter took way longer than I intended it to. So many things I want to happen, I just wish I had six pairs of hands and two heads so one can write and the other can edit DX
Anyway, this is long overdue but thanks to ablueberrynight, Ceilo, awesomehatyougotthere, amariys, junjouLYN, ArtisanDreamCatcher, Moy-kun, Love Psycho, PsychedelicJet64, AureliaVerity, Sychronergy, ShiroMoon, Nazrita, Koriou-Ou, Rawrthedinolycan, and previous reviewers as well as all the wonderful peeps who favorites this for your love~
I will work hard to get the next chapter out... which may not happen for a while since I've been putting off time-consuming junk that will no doubt come back to bite me in the ass -_-;;
Until next time!
~Diamond Snowflake
