My Land
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the song, Kubo Tite and Chioldren of the Bodom do.
Warnings: My crappy grammar, some OOCness. And story ends! (Which is actually not a warning but... oh, well.)
Author's note: Wohoo! The last chapter! Or an epilogue, should I say. This chapter is an insight by Grimmjow, and may appear to be a little irrelevant for some of you. I think it has to be here anyway, so it is here. And there is still songs left too, should I keep going on this plot? #Scratches her head# Hopefully you aren't getting bored...
Anyway, I really should get a beta. If there is any volunteers, please make yourselves known. I know my grammar is horrible, and would probably cause a lot of work for you. Demo... onegai! I would give you a big basket of imaginary fruits .
Okay, on with the story.
Part Nine:
Big and ugly sandbox welcomed it's unofficial king with deep silence. The grey sky spread all over the horizon, as dull and motionless as ever.
Grimmjow snickered. Some place to call a home.
His "army", as those shinigami freaks preferred to call his group, was looking at him questioningly. They were stupid, ugly and cruel, their thick heads mostly filled with blood lust and passion for killing.
But just like Grimmjow, they were alone and homeless. That was what kept the world of hollows together; they didn't like each other or just simply ignored each other, but they were all comrades. And just like all outcasts through the times, they stuck together.
Now when Grimmjow had lived in the real world, he had realized the whole meaning of the word 'feeling'. The feelings were more than just a nuisance or that part of the brain process that kept coming in the way. They were a essence of one's personality. They were power source of the soul, body and mind.
Hollows had feelings, too. They were not too pretty or even stable, but they stood up for everything that hollows were. And that means they were ugly, stupid and cruel feelings. In some stage hollows had thought Aizen to be their father, and when daddy had passed away the big brother had kept things going. No hollow had that thought process exactly, but someway Grimmjow knew it. In somewhere deep in his... in deep, anyway.
For some reason a heart was the symbol of feelings and love to all people Grimmjow had ever met. When he looked the sea of hollows, once more gathered to listen his short and improvised speech, he saw no hearts. There were only holes in place of the hearts. Did that mean, that were a hole in place of the feelings, too?
No. If Grimmjow knew anything about the world and ho does it work, everything was about the life. An ability to talk, walk and watch the others live their lives. In the end everything bended towards the skill of living and having memories.
Yes. Memories.
Grimmjow couldn't save his memories to his heart, but he would gain them. One, two lifetimes worth of memories he would treasure in his... what the fuck did that matter? The heart was a muscle just like every else muscle. He would saviour those memories in his ass if he had to.
"We are back home, guys", he said, "and we did kick only couple shinigami's asses. I guess you are disappointed."
The roar of agreement rose from the sea of hollows. Grimmjow silenced it with a sharp glare.
"The point is, we don't have to kick shinigami's asses. I know it's fun and keeps us in the shape, but it's not necessary."
Hollows were watching him carefully. Maybe they thought who the fuck was that and what in the name of hell he had done to Grimmjow, the former sixth Espada.
"We are beasts, eating souls of humans. And damn, we are proud of what we are. Shinigami and their stupid organization is the big, fat cow that lives for the sake of humans."
Laughter. Grimmjow liked that metaphor too.
"We don't need to envy them about anything. We are as good and powerful as they are, maybe even better. We have our land here. Let's be proud of it. Las Noches will raise from the dust, but instead of having fun and killing shinigami you motherfuckers must work you asses of because of it. "
My old land is but a pile of sand
cold and bare
but something still is there
Annoyed moans were heard from the crowd. Grimmjow raised his voice. It hadn't been quiet from the begin with, and now it made his listeners shrink and look at him with wide eyes. "Stop the wailing, assholes! You are like kids whose favourite toy has been taken away! Now, get out of my sight before I really get angry!"
They obeyed,of course. You have to do what the big bro says. The group scattered to the all directions, every hollow going on it's own way.
Grimmjow stayed for a while, looking the sky above him. Memories.
He had been stupid, but that is how you learn ne things. Everything that had happened in past couple months was now in his memories, and he didn't regret making any of them. He would remember the moments with his precious shinigami bastard forever, and that alone had made the experience worth it.
"Sir?"
Grimmjow looked down. It was Lieutenant. "What?"
The arrancar had serious look on his face. He looked somewhat naive and inexperienced. "I just want to say that I think your decision is right. We have to build our own land here, not try to steal it from the others. Coming back here was a really righteous thing to do, if you allow me to express my opinion, sir."
"Yeah. I have heard that some birds loose they will to live if shut in the cage."
"Sir?"
"Shut up, and fuck off like everybody else."