"Eh?! What're ya doin' here, Szayel? Il Forte?!" As he entered the room, Grimmjow blinked once he caught sight of the pink haired man sitting opposite Aizen, briefcase closed on the table. (He casually ignored the fact that all the others had already arrived and were already seated, with the sole exceptions of Schiffer, Fishtank and himself.) As such, the question, or rather, statements, came out almost as yelps.
"Keep your thoughts to yourself, Jeagerjaques. Not everyone here wants to know what an imbecile is thinking."
Ulquiorra refused to admit that the appearance of the Grantzes, the two co-leaders of the high-paying and immensely securely confidentially dangerous research and development company, as well as being his and Jeagerjaques' juniors in MIT, had surprised him. But he was surprised, in any case. The Grantzes had made it big, everyone knew that. Big, but perhaps not big enough? Why were they here?
There was no comparison between them and the head, the lead in that discipline, the genius Urahara Kisuke himself. (Not that anyone had heard from Urahara Kisuke in years now, but his name still carried quite a lot of prestige with it.) He had not expected the Boss to employ such people. Perhaps there was nothing to be surprised about, especially since that no one really knew what the Boss was thinking, but still, this was interesting. It was going to be an interesting development indeed. He took his seat which was regretfully next to that of Grimmjow.
"Take your seats, Grimmjow, Ulquiorra. You are late." Why, thank you, Captain Obvious, snarked Grimmjow in his head, visibly rolling his eyes at Aizen's dreadlocked (and supposedly disposable) sidekick, one annoyed, blind, Tousen Kaname. It did not matter whether he rolled his eyes, or even flipped the annoying bastard The Finger. He was blind anyway. Wasn't like the idiot could see in the first place. And gawd, he was annoying. Sit down, Grimmjow. Hurry up, Grimmjow. Silence, Grimmjow. Who was he to say anything like that anyway? Hmph.
The Russian to Grimmjow's left sniggered, cigarette stub crushed in his hand as he leant back in his seat. The dark-skinned woman opposite him frowned disapprovingly but made no move to well, move. Neither did the rest of the table. If possible, Stark appeared sleepier, Barragan more bored, and Wonderweiss more stupid. Grimmjow, however, seemed to be in a not so good mood. (The one just short of foul.) "What, ya got a problem? Nnoitra?"
"It's Jiruga to you, Grimmjow." A smirk as he took out another cigarette, lighting it and taking a long draw. Baiting Grimmjow was just so much fun. The blue-haired idiot was just too stupid to realize that he was being baited. Not that Nnoitra could actually beat the explosives expert when it came to electronics or something else, but personality wise, he was not too smart. Grimmjow, that was.
"No it's not." Ulquiorra stifled a sigh as Jeagerjaques, that idiot, rose to the bait. Honestly now, this had been going on ever since the Russian idiot had joined their crew. Apparently, baiting the kitty cat (and whoever knew why the Russian had nicknamed Jeagerjaques kitty cat could and would walk away with his second best mouse) was Jiruga's new past time. Not that it was particularly fun. He would know.
"Yes it is." Aaroniero's forehead collided with the tabletop. Grimmjow looked pissed. Very pissed. Much more pissed than usual. Aizen looked the same. Tousen could not see, so that was not much of the matter.
"No it's not." Yammy's face puckered into a grimace as he toppled sideways off his chair. Nnoitra smirked. Ulquiorra scowled at him.
"Yes it is." Barragan looked up from his cup of tea before giving a nondescript grunt and going back to whatever it was that he had been doing. The senior Grantz looked mildly annoyed, the junior Grantz merely surveying the room in that same state of detachedness as he had been in when the three latecomers had entered.
"No it's not." Halibel's fists clenched and unclenched. Nnoitra was still grinning and enjoying himself. Grimmjow looked even more pissed than before, which was a feat in itself since it appeared to Ulquiorra that he was about to explode.
"Shut it." Stark growled from his corner of the table, the butt of the dagger he had been flipping around in his hands smashing down on the thankfully stone tabletop. Tousen flinched a little, and even Aizen looked mildly surprised. "I've had enough with you two. Just cut the crap till I'm not in the room."
Grimmjow looked like he wanted to say anything, but the higher-ranked man gave him no chance, pressing on. "Or I'll kill you. You two aren't precious at all. You're replaceable. There's people out there who I can get to replace you. So you better watch your step, Grimmjow, Nnoitra. You watch your step or I'll remove it for you."
Turning to flash a charismatic grin at Aizen, Stark swept an arm out in an overly extravagant gesture. "The floor is all yours, Aizen-sama. Your humble servant apologizes for the interruption." Quickly retrieving his dagger, it was sheathed and the room collectively sighed silently in relief. Thank goodness for Aizen. Without the dictator, who knew how Stark and all of them would go out of control. Personally, Ulquiorra thought they were all insane. They were not making good first impressions.
A smile graced Aizen's lips. (Half the room knew it was fake. The other half was either too stupid to notice, too pissed off to think, or just, simply, blind.) Szayel Aporro Grantz prided himself on being in the first half, even though he had known Aizen for only about an hour, when he had first stepped into the compound and begun noticing things about the furniture, which then taught him much about Aizen. But in any case, the researcher leant back slightly, relaxed, waiting for Aizen to introduce him to the room. (Or at least to the people who he did not already know, that was.)
There was Jeagerjaques, that cyan haired hot headed senior forever getting into trouble but still acing Physics like nobody's business. There was Schiffer, the silent unnoticeable programming genius who knew everything there was to know about computers and then some. There was Jiruga, who was about as caring as a hungry lion; the man was ruthless as hell, and had the vocabulary to match it.
The rest, well, he had heard of them. Or at least, he thought he had. There was what seemed to be Barragan, that tycoon guy who supposedly owned a fortune legally and a helluva lot more illegally, then that Jamaican secret service turned private operator, which was basically technical jargon for assassin Halibel, professional wrestler turned heavyweight fighter mercenary thing, Yammy, the man with the unpronounceable name whom everyone in the industry just called Jack, conman extraordinaire uhm… Jack. (Of course, his real name was Aaroniero Arru-something, but well, just Jack would do.) And then that last guy, whom he had never seen, and probably would not want to have met. Szayel did not like being around bums, and that last person gave off a very 'bum' atmosphere so it was not much of a loss. It was that weird dagger guy.
And it turned out that he was right. Aha. First triumph of the day of Szayel Aporro Grantz. (The bum turned out to be some guy called Stark. Honestly now, what kind of name was Stark? Szayel Aporro Grantz had a much nicer ring to it. Il Forte was not too bad either. But… Stark? Nu uh.) Aizen seemed to be talking about something rather boring like "Could you all please think through your decision carefully." and "This is important for the future of the organization." Yeah right. As if Aizen would ever grant democratic rights to his subordinates. Szayel had been in the room long enough to know that this was no democracy. Not even communism. This was just an outright autocracy.
There was King Aizen and then there was everybody else.
Szayel wondered vaguely why he had thought of joining up with the man in the first place. Oh well. Too late for regrets. He was just going to get the best out of what he had. When life hands you lemons, you first break down the lemon into all the potentially useful parts. Juice goes into lemonade, fiber sold off to make paper using the newly patented Grantz technology and the skin used to create beauty products. Yes, Szayel Aporro Grantz was just that good.
Zaraki stood up abruptly, nodding slightly to the two leaders before leaving the room. Most seemed surprised, except for a select few, those who knew Zaraki well enough to know that when he said something, he generally meant it. Nanao had expected him to leave, but not so abruptly, and not immediately. However, judging from their expressions, Ukitake-san and Kyouraku-san expected this, the latter waving for Zaraki to leave.
The room was stunned into silence, however, when Gin followed suit, swinging his white jacket over his shoulders as he exited the room, grin twitching slightly, narrowed eyes dancing with laughter. "See ya, everybody! I've got work ta do. Can't be late for a meeting, can I?" Winking at Matsumoto unabashedly, he half-swaggered half-skipped out of the room, leaving a completely flabbergasted Shunsui behind.
Urahara merely looked mildly annoyed, frowning slightly from behind that ridiculous hat of his, sighing and muttering mostly to himself, though the entire room heard it. "You just had to leave in the middle of the presentation, Gin?" A snort arose from Renji, the red-haired man rolling his eyes.
"You know he probably did this on purpose, Geta boshi. Gee. You're supposed to be smart or something, right?" This time, it was Hisagi's turn to roll his eyes. Nanao suspected that the commotion would have been on a much larger scale had Zaraki's team been present, but seeing as neither Ikkaku nor Zaraki himself was present, there was no chance of that. The meeting somehow seemed a little more subdued.
"Excuse me? Firstly, freeloader-san, that nickname is outdated. Secondly, it is inaccurate. I only put those one for one week. And thirdly, I dare say that I am more intelligent than you. It does not take much to be a baboon, does it?" Urahara shot back, the grin on his face growing wider, to almost comical proportions. Nanao secretly confirmed her initial suspicions upon meeting the group. Yes, they were all nuts.
Kenpachi stopped by Yachiru's room on his way to the division's sector. In a show that was highly uncharacteristic of the little girl, she was currently sleeping soundly, even though it was the middle of the day. Hooked up to all sorts of machines which he had grilled Retsu-san to ensure would not cause pain to his little girl, she looked oddly peaceful. He did not like that. People who looked oddly peaceful looked like they were going to die. And his Yachiru was not going to die. He would not allow it.
Why, oh why had he let her play around with that Kurotsuchi? It was Kurotsuchi, for goodness' sake. It was the insane mad scientist. Nothing good could come out of association with the mad man. Sighing, he was partially resigned to the fact that yes, it was not Kurotsuchi's fault. Somehow, this had all worked out in a way that would be fine. Retsu had said that Yachiru would be fine, that she just needed time, and that yes, she would be back to her insanely hyper excited self in no time, there was no permanent damage done.
A semi-tender look came over his face as he placed her favorite lavender blanket into the cot, tucking the edges neatly in before kissing her gently on the forehead. Squeezing her hand lightly, he turned to leave the room, to leave the humming machines and monitoring equipment behind.
He had revenge ahead of him, and he was definitely going to get his revenge. It would be very foolish of him to let that bastard go unwarned, or even unharmed. Picking up his trusty AK-47, he left the room, closely followed by a scowling Ikkaku with his Uzis and a solemn Yumichika and his trusty shotgun.
"So," Aizen drew attention to himself, after the rather long break in which he had granted them refreshments and time to ponder over his request. It was always good to consult his subordinates on matters which involved them. That much he knew. "My dear Espada, have you made your decision?" Aizen's lips quirked into a slight smile, which once again, Szayel Aporro Grantz recognized to be fake. Grimmjow looked annoyed, Barragan bored, Halibel stoic as always, Stark asleep, Jack faintly interested and Ulquiorra blank. Frankly, he did not think that he was going to be welcomed with open arms, but that it would not matter anyway. His presence here meant that he was wanted, and possibly needed, but at least wanted.
"Ya toyin' with them again, Aizen-dono?" The last two syllables were sing-songed by a person who had just entered the room. Collectively taking in the appearance of the person, Szayel noted a slim build, white suit, shiny black shoes, silver hair and an impossibly large grin. That and the fact that the entire room seemed surprised, which only made the man's smile widen. Szayel's lips turned up slightly at the corners.
So this was the famous Ichimaru Gin.