Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.
He is distraught when she chooses to keep her distance from his lake; who is there to blame but himself, who foolishly let emotions take control?
But he is quick to learn that it is not his reaction that kept her away, but the anniversary of her mother's death.
She returns the next day, the same as always, albeit a bit more somber considering the past day's events. Her husband-to-be is not with her. This is something he appreciates.
He learns to forgive himself as he begins to, once again, get his daily dose of her.
But as the days pass, her visits become shorter and fewer; she has wedding plans to see through and many menial tasks to conduct to ensure she is ready for the important day.
All the weddings in her village are planned to impress; they are a chance for the two joining families to show off their wealth and prosperity, and she has to incorporate this idea into her plans. This causes more work to be piled onto her shoulders, and she has no time to take the long breaks she did in his clearing.
He is left with no choice but to accept that she is drifting away from his lake. Although she still returns to escape the stress of greeting relatives and dress fittings, she never stays for long, and still looks hassled as she departs.
His waters are not enough right now to effect her the way they have for so many years. But he hopes that it will not remain this way forever.
His best hope is to wish that the wedding somehow be miraculously called off. But he does not realize what dire consequences this wish has.
It happens on the night of her fiancé's bachelor party. The men take him out drinking; an unwise decision, because many are unaware of his inability to handle large amounts of alcohol and still remain rash.
Although he is unsure of the exact events that occurred leading up to the most frightful moment of his existence, he can infer that she was on her way to his lake. In the pitch blackness of the night.
She always was too headstrong for her own good.
He hears the footsteps long before he sees them. They are quick and heavy, as if the owner is in a hurry...or in danger.
He hears the shallow breathing, but does not realize it is her until she releases a loud scream.
"Grimmjow!"
He is quick to swim up to just below the surface, so as to get a good view of the events happening on the land adjacent to his lake.
This is when he sees her stumbling into the open area, and his heart roars in turmoil.
Her face is covered in mud and leaves, courtesy of the forest she has just run through. Her feet are bare, and covered in scratches, with blood oozing out of them. They look beaten, as if she has just run the distance too intensely for them to support it. Any other bare skin on her body is in the same condition, most probably from misshapen branches on trees and the many thorny plants in the area.
She has, no doubt, come straight from an evening dance lesson, because she is in a black dress. Its large straps are slipping down her shoulders, and he realizes this is because the back has been ripped open, the zipper broken off. Her scratched arms are clutching the straps, trying to cover her upper body as best as they can. Her dress is, in his opinion, too short. But he soon understands why.
The bottom of the fabric is frayed, as if it has been roughly ripped apart. And it has.
The missing piece of the dress is not too far behind. Moments later, a blue haired man stumbles into the clearing.
He has sneaked away from his own party, the other men too drunk to notice.
His face is bright red, as a result of his intoxication. His eyes are blurred, as if he has no inclination of his current location. A cruel smile is playing on his lips, as if he is enjoying the act he is committing. And in his hand is a large chunk of frayed black fabric.
He looks like he is having fun. She does not.
She backs away, a look of horror on her face from so harshly discovering what her childhood friend's true personality is, not realizing she is heading towards the lake and cornering herself.
Her predator – his sadistic grin and felinely posture make him seem like one – steps closer. He throws the torn chunk of dress away, having no need for it. Instead, his eyes linger on her bare shoulders and he licks his lips.
A shudder racks her body as she notices his actions. She knows what is going to happen to her.
"Why?" she asks weakly. So weakly that he feels his heart break. This fragility is not her.
"'Cause," he says roughly. "It's fun. It's fun to be in control, and it's fun to see that look on your face, when you realize I'm in control."
And he steps closer yet again.
Both humans and spirit realize she has nowhere to run at the same time. She has reached the edge of the lake, and he is too close for her to bolt. Her attacker reaches out a hand, an excited gleam in his eyes.
He tries to convince himself that what he does next is simply because he does not wish to see such a heinous crime be committed under his watch, rather than his insanely intense desire - no, need - to protect her from any harm that comes her way.
He whips himself out of the lake. The water, his companion element, circles his slim body, attracted to his spirit and feeling his intense emotions along with him. He is like a whirlpool suspended in the air, heading towards the man that shares his waters' color.
He wastes no time in pelting his body towards the human, the water acting as his weapon.
She has her back to the lake and does not realize what is taking place behind her, but her obviously-ex-fiancé has a clear view. He does not even have time to widen his eyes when the large vortex of water slams against his body.
Again and again, he smashes into the man who tries futilely to fight back. Finally, one hit is critical, and his body hits the ground.
The spirit feels relief, but only for the moment. An unexpected complication suddenly arises from his act of heroism.
The reason for his assault is too surprised by her sudden savior that she jumps back, a yelp on the tip of the tongue. It only escapes when her foot slips on the edge, and her body dunks under the water of the lake that is deeper than it looks. It has to be; it houses a powerful spirit after all.
She does not expect the waters to be so cold and endless. Perhaps this is why she has trouble swimming. Or perhaps she is still in shock.
Either way, he has no choice but to leave the scum lying on the land as he plunges into his river, praying that she has not been harmed.
Her aroma hits him like a bullet train, and despite his rush, he takes a moment to fully enjoy it. It has been so long since she last took a plunge into the lake with her entire body; usually she just dips her feet. He marvels at how much her taste has changed. She is a full woman now, and definitely tastes like one. If he thought she was intoxicating before, she is positively exquisite now.
She looks rather comical, though he does not laugh. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is hanging open, probably from the sight of his giant body rushing at her full speed. However, she has enough sense to hold her breath. Her extremities lay motionless, not even trying to help the owner save herself from drowning. It is up to him.
When he reaches her, he circles around her form before sending her a look that clearly orders her to grab on. Despite her petrified state, she does so.
It is indubitably the wrong time, but he feels pleasant shivers pass through his body at her first touch. Her hand is warmer than himself, and it feels unbelievably alluring.
He memorizes the touch, enjoying the rough way she grabs onto his back. He wonders if she is just as rough grabbing onto other body parts.
After a mental slap to the head ("This is not the time," he reprimands himself), he glides smoothly but swiftly to the surface.
She takes in a deep gasp of breath when they surface. He watches her chest rise and fall rapidly, but pushes all thoughts of anything but her safety away.
He takes a moment to search for the bastard he spared in his panic to help her, and notices that he is still lying in the same spot, passed out. No doubt from the alcohol in his system.
When he hears the gasping slow down, he gingerly places her on the ground sitting up, her legs still dangling in the water so he can continue enjoying her taste.
They are face-to-face. It is his first time being so close to her, and he is awed at how breathtakingly beautiful she is to him.
However, she has a different mindset.
"W-What are you?" she asks shakily, her eyes wide from the shock. Her form is shaking from the chily air, made worse from her wet clothing. She pays it no mind, too focused on him.
He stiffens, unsure of how to respond, considering the night's events.
This is not how he expected to meet her.
I'm so awesome for updating this so quickly! And as promised, this chapter is longer, so I hope that satisfies you guys. But now you'll have to be patient again, because I'm going to focus on the next chapter of Bite the Bullet before updating this again; after all, I have to give my stories equal amounts of attention. And I am totally prepared at the rants for leaving off just when they first met!
Moving on, just like I said, Grimmjow was a major factor in helping the two meet. I'm pretty sure that without his horrible acts, there is no way Toushiro would have ever considered revealing himself to Karin. So, sorry to Grimmjow fans for making him a rapist, but I chose him as Karin's fiance specifically for that scene. He was the best character for the role out of the list I made of possible fiances.
Thoughts, comments, flames? Let me know! I eagerly await your critique.