More fan fiction, anyone?
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"And that's… pretty much it," Danielle finished lamely.
She sat at the small table in Urahara's candy shop, directly across from Kisuke Urahara himself. Her eyes continually flickered up to his hat. Those stripes were mesmerizing up close.
To her left sat Ichigo, holding his head in his hands as Danielle talked, and the relaxed shape of Yoruichi could be seen sitting across from him, back in her humanoid form. For some reason, she was wearing attire different than what Danielle would have expected.
Plain blue jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. Huh.
I guess even anime characters have… normal days, I guess.
Urahara took another sip of his tea, breathing in deeply, his eyes shadowed by both his hat and hair as he lost himself in thought.
"Interesting, interesting…" he muttered.
"… Look, I'm not making any of this up. No shit. It might not have seemed like it here, but Ichigo really was gone for, like, a month. Ask him." Danielle proclaimed defensively, gesturing to the sleepy Ichigo. "There's more than one reason I brought Lump-Head, you know."
Ichigo groggily lifted one arm, giving her a hearty middle fingered salute.
"Come on, tell him!" Danielle pestered him.
"Yeah, it's all true. She's also completely out of her mind." Ichigo added, gritting his teeth angrily.
"Oh, I believe you, alright," Urahara said slowly. "As a matter of fact, there's… a couple of tests I'd like to run."
Danielle froze, and Ichigo picked up on this almost immediately. From the time he'd unwillingly spent with her, it was much easier for him to detect precisely what made her nervous, the number of which happened to be surprisingly few. However, she did claim to know more about Urahara than he did, which might come in handy later…
"And… what kind of tests, exactly, are-"
"Kisuke!" Yoruichi began dangerously.
"Oh, no, not to worry, not to worry!" Urahara cut her off with a smile, waving his hands energetically. "No poking or prodding, no pinching or prying. As a matter of fact, you won't even be in any danger at all!"
Danielle wiped her brow, a little more at ease. That was a relief.
"Well, hardly any danger."
"Kisuke!"
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"And that's… pretty much it," Donald finished lamely.
The morning sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, stealthily creeping in through the windows and gradually giving Orihime Inoue's living room a slightly warmer, more comforting feel. "I think I understand…" the girl, or Orihime, as she had asked to be called, said slowly. "So, he's a hollow-" she stated, pointing to Grimmjow, who stood leaning uneasily against the wall.
"Sort of." Donald said. "From what I've gathered, many of his physical, physiological, and perhaps even psychological traits are similar, perhaps even identical to these… hollows, as you name them." He scratched his head, his legs crossed Indian-style as he sat on the floor, reclining ever so slightly against her small couch. It was quite worn, though very sturdy. It smelled a little of moth balls, and… leeks, for some reason.
"Although that's not necessarily cause for great alarm. He's proven to be a worthy protector, I suppose."
Grimmjow snorted at that, and shifted uncomfortably.
"However," Donald said slyly, "he still has yet to explain precisely why he took me from my home. And, by extent, placed me in great personal danger."
"Aw, come off it," Grimmjow waved him off. "I can handle anything that fucks with me."
"For now, maybe." Donald insisted. "But what about when something bigger comes along? Then what? You'll kill that, too? And bigger than the last, what then?" Donald continued to pry, desperation beginning to set in, but he forced it away and fought with himself, struggling to get Grimmjow to say anything that might be of use. Perhaps, by method of appealing…
"And, besides that, I don't know why you thought it was so important. Haven't you solved your problem already?"
"Hmm?" Grimmjow said, cocking a bright blue eyebrow. "Oh, the hunger. Yeah, pfft. I knew about that. Man, I've been scarfin' down everything I could get my hands on. I just didn't know I could munch on those pitiful hollow fuckers like Happy Meals with legs."
"Then, why, for the love of all things holy, will you not just tell me how I'm supposed to help you?" Donald replied angrily.
"Because you'll die!" Grimmjow screamed, shoving himself away from the wall. His hands were clenched tightly, and Donald hadn't really noticed just how heavily he was breathing. He almost seemed… worried.
… Well, that was… unexpected.
Orihime looked more than a little uncomfortable, sitting directly between the two. "Umm…" she began, but drew quiet quickly. Donald felt a little sorry for the shy girl, watching her attempt to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible.
And failing miserably.
After a moment of thought, Donald sighed, readjusted his glasses, and stood up, drawing himself to his full height. Which wasn't much, but it helped.
"Explain."
One word. It was strange, for Grimmjow; he'd known this arrogant little brat for nearly a month, before Donald had been subjected to the power of the Chameleon Arch, warping his genetic code and shrouding his mind. It didn't matter what DNA he had, after all; one word is all it took, and Grimmjow could feel the sheer command behind it.
No, not just that – he felt the same thing that he himself emitted. This friendly Orihime girl in front of him, Ichigo and the others, some of the hollows…
Even Danielle.
Donald had some level of spiritual pressure, whether he was aware of it or not. And a tiny sliver of it had slipped out, carried by the single command for explanation. There was something about it, that just seemed… off.
Unhealthy.
Foul.
My host…
Grimmjow fought to catch his breath, forcing himself to calm down. The kid has to stay alive for now… or else…
"Look," Grimmjow began, sliding down the wall and sitting, glaring at Donald with a ferocious stare. "You probably think somethin' funny's goin' on."
"Evidently. I appear to be experiencing some form of mild amnesia, coupled with particularly… annoying mood swings and slightly enhanced mental capacity. Also, another heart. Hmm."
"I dunno about the other heart thing," Grimmjow began, eying the silent girl who sat between the two, watching them closely. "But I'm havin' a few… memory problems, too. That… thing. That thing that they put you in-"
"Who? What? When? Where?"
"Lemme finish," Grimmjow said, holding up a hand. "That thing they put you in changed you. Pushed out some kind of goop. Parasite. That's the thing that was messing with your head. 'Cept, that machine… changed you. A lot. Thing is, I don't think you were-"
"The only host of the parasite…" Donald finished for him. "But what do you mean by 'they'?" he asked, puzzled. Perhaps he'd finally get to the bottom of this particular mystery, as to who could have potentially forced such a grueling change upon him. Who in their right mind could have possibly-
Grimmjow paused for a moment, though seeing as Donald didn't seem to be undergoing any changes as of yet, he figured it couldn't hurt to tell him a little more.
"Your sister."
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Sorry about the wait folks, been a little busy. Thanks to all the faithful readers, and there's more on the way soon!
Donald: Hey, hey! No! Bad! BAD author! You take your happy ass back there, and finish that chapter!
… Excuse me?
Donald: You know what! It was just getting good! Don't you dare walk away from that!
Pfft. Or what?
Donald: Don't make me get the walrus!
… Uh… just.
…
Thanks for the reviews.