Chapter 5:

El Verdad

The tension was heavy in the air as Grimmjow sat, waiting for Kisuke to collect his thoughts. He wanted to rip Shinji's throat out for the insolence with which the wiry blonde had addressed him. Greater men had their lives crushed for even looking at him the wrong way. Yet…

He let out a long breath, looking next to him at Ichigo. The young man's brow was furrowed in troubled anticipation, and he leaned forward strategically to block Shinji from Grimmjow's view. Looking at the innocent boy, Grimmjow knew that as long as Ichigo was near, he he would never do such a thing.

Kisuke rubbed his face with his hands and looked at Grimmjow contemplatively. "Grimmjow Jaegerjaques…You are not the first of Aizen's experiments. Shinji here is a testament to that."

To his right, Shinji crossed his arms and glared at the wall. Grimmjow's heightened senses picked up that the blonde was shaking ever so slightly. He continued to stare at Kisuke, waiting for the man to continue.

"Aizen and myself…you could say we used to be friends. We grew up together," Kisuke said slowly. "We lived in a slum. We had to fight almost daily to survive…and we loved it."

Grimmjow felt his jaw clench. It was true he thrived in the rush of dominance that came with winning, and the thrill of adrenaline in the heat of battle. Of going in as equals and coming out on top. He knew that feeling well. He also knew that it drove some to madness.

"As we grew older, I became more and more interested in the field of medicine," Kisuke continued. "We'd heard of athletes who used steroids to become faster and stronger; so we thought we could do the same.

Aizen urged me to create a drug, a drug that would make us impossible to defeat. Bigger, faster, stronger. And not only would it be used on ourselves, but we would strike it rich introducing this drug to the world. I had no idea of Aizen's ulterior motives. My only desire was to use it so that we would never have to go to sleep broken and bloody again."

The older man paused, his eyes slightly glazed. He glanced at Shinji, who still had his arms crossed. But his insolent expression had faded to one of contemplative sadness. "Well?" he barked. "Go on."

"Eventually, I finished the drug. It was perfect. One injection created the perfect fighting machine; it even altered their thinking, making them love battle above all else. Pain toleration was raised to new heights, and a user could go days without feeling any fatigue. I told this to Aizen, who wanted to try it immediately. I stopped him, though, because I wanted to test it for side effects. There was no telling what a drug like this could do to a body.

So he stole it. He stole the drug from me, and tested it on several young people he picked based on their body type and mental stability…one of them was Shinji."

Grimmjow looked next to him at Ichigo; the boy's jaw had dropped and he was gripping the table, knuckles white.

"When I found him, Shinji was…less than human. He was impossible to reason with…I realized my drug had created a monster. I pleaded with Aizen, but my friend was gone. He had used me to get what he wanted. That night was the last time I saw him. He took the drug, and used his connections to perfect it. Next thing I knew, an underground fight club had sprung up, and it didn't take long to find out who was behind it."

Ichigo scratched the back of his head, expression outraged. "So this Aizen guy is finding guys and sticking them full of drugs to fight for money?"

"Not guys," Grimmjow muttered. "Children."

Ichigo's face paled. "You…"

Grimmjow stared back, face neutral. "Yes. He took me when I was very young. I was trained to fight from the beginning." He vaguely remembered the sting of the needle. After years of being dosed, however, it just seemed like routine. He wondered how he would have turned out without it.

Shinji grimaced. "Your friend is lucky to be here, Ichi. Most don't survive very long under Aizen's control. And us, the Vaizards…it took us all a long time to recover from the effects of the drug."

"Yes," Kisuke mused. "It seems Aizen's been able to tweak it so that it's not a ruinous to the minds of its users nowadays…"

Ichigo stood suddenly, slamming his fists on the table. "What the hell is wrong with you? How can you just sit here like it's fucking tea time when there are people being treated like dogs down there?"

Grimmjow felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle as Ichigo's anger was turned on him.

"And you!" Ichigo cried. "Why are you so damn calm? You had to live through all that, and you…you're fine. How can you just…how can you be alright after that torture?"

"It's all I've ever known."

Ichigo's expression softened, and he slowly sat down, placing his hand near Grimmjow's on the table. "Not anymore."

Kisuke coughed. "Ichigo, there's really not much that we can do. Aizen sells the drug, and now he owns nearly half the city. He would crush us easily if we tried anything against him."

"It's just not fair," Ichigo hissed.

"I know," Kisuke replied. "The most you can do now is help your friend adjust. Be thankful he's here now, instead of down there."

"How'd you escape, anyways?" Shinji cut in.

Grimmjow smirked and jumped into the story, eager to retell his journey back to the outside world. Anything to distract from the troubling story and to escape hearing the name of his Master.

"Okay, Grimmjow…Don't panic. I'm just gonna cut your hair." Shinji said slowly, brandishing a shiny pair of shears.

They sat in Ichigo's kitchen, a towel draped over the fighter's shoulders and Ichigo seated a few feet away in case Grimmjow became overwhelmed.

"He's really good at it," Ichigo soothed, noting Grimmjow's slightly dilated pupils.

Grimmjow wondered what Ichigo meant by 'good' as he eyed Shinji's strange bangs and long, straight strands. It wasn't particularly appealing to him in any way.

He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back. "Just do it."

Shinji worked quietly as Ichigo merely watched. Grimmjow eventually admitted to himself that he kind of enjoyed the feeling of the comb moving through his hair, and the cold slide of metal against his scalp as the long blue strands were sliced away. He felt notably lighter as Shinji continued, like a load was being lifted from his shoulders.

Grimmjow was unsure of how much time had passed. He felt himself slipping in and out of conciousness, but was snapped back to reality when a soft brush swiped back and forth against his now-exposed neck. He shivered and brought his hand up, running his fingers through his hair. He was shocked when they only held on for a few seconds before coming up empty. It was so short!

"Let me see," he stated bluntly.

Shinji grinned and held up a small mirror for Grimmjow to take. "Damn I'm good," he chuckled.

Grimmjow's eyes widened as he beheld himself. He looked nearly unrecognizable. He liked it. Grimmjow glanced at Ichigo, who he had felt staring at him for the past three minutes. He couldn't help the small grin that tugged at one side of his mouth as the saw the faint pink that tainted the young man's face.

"Do you like it?" he asked Ichigo suddenly.

"Y-yes." Ichigo replied, surprised at Grimmjow's inquiry.

The blue-haired man was satisfied. "Thank you," he said gruffly to Shinji, handing back the mirror.

The blonde glanced between Ichigo and Grimmjow, a knowing look blooming on his face as he swept up the floor and gathered up his things. Shinji finally gave the small kitchen one last look, the turned to Ichigo.

"Well, I gotta fly Ichi. It's been real," he said, a wide grin splitting his face.

Ichigo stood, saying his own goodbye and stepping into Shinji's open arms, which closed tightly around his shoulders. Grimmjow's eyes narrowed as he waited for the blonde boy to crush Ichigo in his vice-like grip. He half-stood up in his chair, preparing to spring forward-no. Grimmjow felt his head cock to the side. Ichigo was…smiling. He, too, was holding Shinji in the same embrace, and they seemed to be enjoying it. Finally, the two stepped apart, and Shinji flitted out the door after shooting a quick wave to Grimmjow.

Ichigo closed and locked the door, then turned and slumped against it. "Man…what a day."

He moved forward and sat across from Grimmjow, placing his elbows on the table and cradling his head in his hands. They studied each other for a moment, neither speaking. Ichigo was fascinated by Grimmjow's transformation. The man was stunning. His exotic blue hair, those piercing, electric eyes, and the strange markings near them…

"What are those?" Ichigo mused, motioning towards his own eyes.

"Tattoos," the fighter said bluntly. "My Master likes to decorate his pets. I received them when I joined the ranks of the Espada."

"They're pretty."

Grimmjow's face contorted, somewhat resembling a sneer. "What was…that?" he asked, motioning towards the door that Shinji had just left through.

"What?"

"The…when he…captured you." Grimmjow struggled to find the right words, posing his arms in the air the same way Shinji did.

Ichigo's face crumpled into laughter as he watched the blue-haired man. His mirth was quickly silenced by sadness, however, as he realized Grimmjow had never, or at least couldn't remember, what it was like to be held in an embrace. "That was a hug," Ichigo said, smiling.

"A hug."

"Yes. Want one?"

Without waiting for Grimmjow's reply, Ichigo stood up and closed the distance between them, leaning down and placing his hands on the older man's shoulders. He leaned forward, slowly encompassing Grimmjow in his arms. Grimmjow tensed; there was something awkward about this, for a reason he couldn't fathom. It was a little too personal for him.

"Just relax," Ichigo soothed. "Feels good, right?"

Focusing on the orange-haired boy's soft voice, Grimmjow fought all of his instincts, forcing his muscles to unwind and bringing his own arms up to wrap tightly around Ichigo's waist. The boy was warm, and he could smell the scent of him that he loved. This close, Grimmjow could feel Ichigo's heartbeat, which was unusually quick.

He loosened his grip a little, realizing that the boy could be afraid, or…no. He refused to consider the alternative.

Sitting there, wrapped in Ichigo's arms, he saw why people did this so often. It did feel very nice.

Aizen stared at the man before him from behind his desk, his face a blank mask. "I'm sorry, Tousen, I do believe I misheard you. Could you repeat that?"

Tousen looked at the ground, refusing to meet the brown-haired man's eyes. "Sexta...your pet. He managed to escape. Not without help, of course. All of his accomplices have been shot down, however."

"How...troubling."

"Yes, my Lord."

Aizen sighed, his breath disturbing the curling smoke from the cigar in his left hand. "When?"

"Twenty-four hours ago."

Aizen's eyes flashed, and he leant forward, smashing his cigar into and over flowing ashtray and placing both of his hands on his desk. "Why did you not tell me until now? You mean to say that my pet has been roaming free on the outside for an entire day? Imagine the attention he may have drawn in that time...I expected more from you, Tousen."

Aizen pressed a button on the phone on his desk, mumbling a few words into the receiver before leaning back and glaring at his subordinate.

"I am sorry,-"

Aizen waved him off, his expression returning to the blank mask once more. "You will find him. If not...why, then I suppose you will have to take his place in his next scheduled brawl two days from now. I have too much riding on this fight to back out."

Tousen's face paled as the other man's words sunk in. "Y-yes, sir."

He left quickly, passing through the door and the shadow of another man standing there, accompanied by a guard. The man was tall and dangerously thin, his long black hair obscuring half of his face. Aizen looked up expectantly. "Ahh, Nnoitra. Bring him in, please."

Chains clanked as Nnoitra was brought forth, connected to the heavy collar around his neck. His visible eye was a barely open slit, his mouth a thin line. "You summoned me...Master?"

"Yes," Aizen's eyes lit up as he regarded the man hunched before him. "Release him from his chains, and leave us." He ordered the guard who had led Nnoitra in.

As soon as the door closed behind the retreating guard, a slow smile stretched across Aizen's face. "Come closer, Nnoitra. Kneel before your Master."

Nnoitra complied, walking slowly forward and falling down to his knees inches from Aizen's knees. He looked down, allowing his hair to obscure his face. Aizen smirked, reaching down and lifting the Espada's chin.

"I believe you know why you are here...I have been quite enjoying your services these past few weeks, my pet."

Nnoitra bit his tongue to stop a disgusted sneer from forming on his lips. "Yes, Master." he purred instead. He needed Aizen to believe he wanted this as much as his Master did.

Aizen sighed, moving his hand to Nnoitra's hair. He wound his fingers in the smoot black locks tightly, pulling the man up until the Espada's lips met his own. Nnoitra allowed Aizen to dominate the kiss, pushing back a shudder as Aizen's tongue pushed harshly against his own.

He allowed Aizen to take whatever he wanted as he slowly lifted his right hand behind his back. A hand that tightly gripped a syringe filled with Szayel's strongest tranquilizer.

(A/N: I am so sorry. This took four months to get out and it isn't even that great. I apologize again for the lateness. And thank you, everyone, for the continuing support. Love you all3

Please review, and message me with any questions you may have.)