Pain. She felt pain physically, and although she appeared to be neutral and uncaring on the outside, on the inside she was a mess, a mix of jumbled up emotions. She acknowledged how utterly stupid and reckless it was to follow the three captains to the hollow world, thinking she would be able to make a difference, or even do something, but in reality how could she even hope to stand up to three captain level Soul Reapers, being only a fifth seat herself?

Her shoulder was causing her the physical pain, every time she moved her left arm, sharp pangs of discomfort traveling upwards, each one causing her to visibly wince. Her head hurt too, every time she made a sharp or jerky movement it would throb to the point she felt ill, even though the wound had been caused considerably earlier. Though it was constantly night her fairly decent perception of time told her she had been awake and in this cell somewhere between fifteen and twenty hours, but even she didn't know how long she had been unconscious for.

To add to her discomfort her stomach lurched and growled very audibly, notifying her to her imminent hunger. She sighed loudly and fell back across the ridiculously hard bed that had been supplied for her, regretting the harsh movement as bother her head and shoulder began to hurt. She became suddenly aware of an incredibly strong spiritual pressure approaching. One thing she had come to notice about her cell was it blocked out all such pressure, except when it was near-by.

Seconds later would mark the first time she ever laid eyes on an arrancar. Light engulfed the room, the silhouette of a figure spread largely across the floor before the door was slammed shut, and locked from the outside.

She wanted to sit up, but the force of his spiritual pressure was so immense and unkempt that it hurt to even attempt. She could however turn her head to the side, blowing the hair that fell over her eyes out of the way to view the man before her. Even in the dim light she could make out the important things, his hands shoved into her pockets, something lying limply over his right arm, a muscular physique that was not at all surprising, but the hole in the middle cause her eyes to widen as they traveled upwards to his face. Blue hair, blue eyes, a tormenting smile and... What looked to be a fragment of a hollow mask resting on the side of his face.

"Wha..." She began.

"Shut up girl," he said immediately cutting her off and thrusting a hand forward to grab hold of the front of her shihakusho pulling her up so she was eye level with him, her feet dangling. "Just as expected," he sneered at her after a few seconds, before dropping her to the floor, her legs giving way beneath her, reducing her to a spluttering heap on the floor. Never before in her life had she felt so utterly powerless, though when she looked up at him her expression was defiant.

This sent a wicked and almost satanic looking grin straight to his face "oh he wasn't lying when he said you were fiery, this might be more interesting than I thought," he leaned down and grabbed hold of her arm, pulling her into a standing position. "Put these on, girl," he said holding out what had been lying across his arm. A white uniform, the only kind of uniform she had seen since she had awoken.

She wrinkled her nose at the garment "no," she said, her heart pounding in her chest as she outwardly defied the man before her.

"I'm sorry what was that?" He sounded menacing, but it was plain as day that he got some kind of kick out of her refusal, like he wanted her to rebel knowing he was perfectly within his rights to punish her however he saw fit.

"I said: no," she said a little louder, her eyes shifting to the Zanpakuto that sat at his hip before back up to his face.

"You misunderstand, it was not a request. If you don't put the clothes on yourself, I will do it for you," he got a little closer, asserting his authority with his size alone, causing her to swallow the lump in his throat. She sneered up at him before making to turn around, though he grabbed hold of her injured shoulder, a suppressed yelp escaping her lips as the sheer force of his grip. "You asked for it," he said, his voice low and dangerous as he pulled the shihakusho open, ripping it from her body, leaving her in only the undershirt she wore beneath it. His grin became wild as his hand moved to her Hakama pants and she instantly recoiled.

"Okay, okay. The clothes, I got it," her voice began loud but got quieter as she spoke.

"Good. We're getting somewhere," he took one large step back, but made no attempt to turn around, causing her to scowl, but turn around to avoid his eyes. "How'd you get that scratch there?" he asked, amusement clear in his tone.

"Ichimaru," she stated venomously as she pulled the top half of her supplied garments over her head, not at all pleased with how it looked. Entirely white with black lining and skin tight, ending around the bottom of her ribcage, and the arms went all the way down to her hands, making gloves, and it had a slight collar to it as well. Pushing her dignity aside for a moment she kicked off her black Hakama pants, only to pull on almost identical white ones, only these had annoying slits at the side, revealing a little of her thighs. Her traditional sandals were replaced with new black and white ones, exactly like the ones the man before her was wearing. She muttered incoherently to herself as she tried; in vain to pull the top down.

"Turn around girl," the blue haired man commanded, she complied, her eyes closed a scowl painted across her features. His eyes ran up and down her body, clearly judging her - for the worse - in his head.

"What are you, exactly?" She asked, somewhat nervous in doing so, though it was hardly apparent in her voice, or at least she hoped it wasn't obvious…

"Wouldn't you like to know?" that shit-eating grin spread over his face once more as he grabbed her old Shihakusho, which she held out. A red glow took to her cheeks as her stomach let out a loud growl, announcing her hunger to the man, causing his grin to widen even more at her sign of involuntary weakness. At this he said nothing, just turned on his heel, and took five or six long strides to the door, growling authoritatively at whoever stood behind it, causing the lock to be clicked open. He didn't even cast a backwards glance as he exited the room, slamming the door shut behind him so hard the walls shook for just a second.

'A wonderful mess you have gotten us into, brat,' a female voice echoed around the room.

'Ryuuraiden, how kind of you to offer me comfort when I need it the most, I thank you,' Akaka answered in her mind, speaking to the spirit of her Zanpakuto.

'I am disappointed, and if you don't get us out of this mess soon, you will never be able to rely on my powers ever again, rest assured of that,' a sneer was evident in the tone of the sword-spirit's voice.

'You can't...'

'Oh I can quite easily choose to ignore you, try releasing an unwilling Zapakuto, goodbye for now; Akaka,' the voice faded out, leaving the soul reaper completely alone with her thoughts, a single tear sliding down her face. She was determined to remain strong, but at the rate things were happening, breaking her down might indeed prove an easier task than everyone; including Aizen first thought...

A second chapter, not entirely pleased with how I wrote Grimmjow, but I need to get used to him, and chapters will be longer as the story progresses… Hopefully.

Her Zanpakuto spirit is angry, so she's just going to be super bitchy at least for the time being ^^

Thanks for reading!