Chapter Twelve: Ditching the Whore
…
So here we were, Ulquiorra and I, on our way to Cupid Manga Store, where Starrk worked after school hours every Tuesday, Friday and Sunday in the evening. Ever since he had started standing behind the counter, the sale of the store's merchandise had been skyrocketing to exponential figures.
The store was bustling with customers. Alive with random chatters, the environment suited Starrk in a very ill manner. Really, just how was he surviving this? Despite that, he was putting on a friendly face, his disinterest never showing itself on the surface. We approached, whereby Starrk's face took on a peculiar light upon the sight of my companion. Suddenly I felt like a fucking intruder.
"This is a Shoujo manga store." Starrk stressed.
"Yep. We like girls." I answered, shooting a deliberate glance at the nearby girls' short skirts and gleaming legs. It was obvious they were there for a singular purpose: to flirt with the clerk. If they only knew this bastard had been a bona fide football jock, they'd forget their names for minutes, rest assured.
"Feast on." was Starrk's response.
Ulquiorra walked over to a shelf to help himself with the week's releases. And then an average-looking chick drew near the counter and decided to flirt around,
"Your friends, Starrk-kun? You should ask them to drop by more frequently."
"Too bad he doesn't seem to like us pestering him during working hours." I beat Starrk into answering, to which he shot me a reproachful look. Ulquiorra, as he was sensitive rather than responsive, ignored everything. By now, the female patrons were attempting to engage us into some sort of flirtation, a game I was so good at playing.
"My god, you're the star of Nagano Panthers, the one they call Jaguar King!" One of the chicks squealed in recognition, her cheeks flushing with color.
"Ladies, this is a book store, technically. We ought not to make a racket." I proposed. All the same, they piled in in front of me, talking in rapid succession. Meanwhile, Starrk approached Ulquiorra, obviously taking the girls' diverted attention as his cue to steal a private word with his pseudo-boyfriend.
Just fucking kiss already. I almost blurted aloud.
We stayed until it was nearly time to close down. When all the customers had trotted off, I dumped Lisa's papers in front of Starrk to commence my guilt-tripping enterprise.
"What's this?"
"Read it." I prompted.
Not without reluctance, he skimmed the shit, and before long he was perusing it in serious absorption.
"It says here that Kyoushin Gakuen is statistically the strongest team in the entire tournament. How accurate is this? I mean, they can't still be the best now that Asuka Katakura has graduated, can they?" Starrk finally asked, incredulous.
"That shit is official document."
"Why are you showing me this?"
"Pffft. As if you don't know."
"…"
"The match is almost here. I don't think there's a need to remind you of the premises in which our team is thrown. The last match was a near miss, all because our current kickers kick like a fucking joke."
"…" Still no answer. In his eyes was the same evasiveness which would ultimately culminate into irritation.
"If you've been watching, the Panthers kick like whores on stilettos, on a muddy field to top it off, seriously."
"…"
"One more thing," I rejoined, searched his face for some sign of agreement, and went on, "I heard Mikasa Tigers' Line is now the strongest in the league. Looks like it's an RIP on Omaeda and me. I'll ask Lisa to contact the funeral parlor soon."
"Ridiculous. I know for a fact you have ok Line dudes. Besides, we're not even sure if Mikasa shall turn out to be the champion of its region." Sounding somewhat dismissive, Starrk must have been so irritated with the exaggeration I was using to deliver my "facts". But maybe he was the one who needed to come clean; just how was he aware of the games' structure if he hadn't been subscribing to the tournament? At this point Ulquiorra started,
"Starrk, isn't it about time—"
"—let's not exaggerate here, guys—"
"—No one's exaggerating." Ulquiorra interrupted Starrk, his face not betraying the slightest of emotions. Of course this was one of those extremely rare times when something in the way he spoke would ring peculiar. Whatever it was, it prompted us to listen to him intently. By and by he resumed, "I somehow thought you were better than this."
Even though he seemed to care for Starrk more than he was brave enough to show, this was as far as his display of feelings could go. His face was blank, blank as a sheet, and I had to wonder if it should have any effect whatsoever on the stubborn bastard—or on anything. There was a long pause, and then finally, out of nowhere,
"Is my locker still available?" I heard Starrk ask, his eyes on mine.
"…" I could not answer because lately I had been using his empty locker for my own personal use—particularly for smelly socks and failed exam papers storage, as if I owned it.
"Is it, Master Guilt-tripper?"
"Let's just say it's been waiting for a certain prick to fill it up with smelly jerseys for, like, two fucking years now." I answered evasively, lest he figure what had become of his locker.
"I'll have my jersey washed before Tuesday, then."
I gaped at him, and so Ulquiorra looked up. Trying to contain myself with difficulty, since I was clearly starting to do cartwheels inside, I managed to ask,
"Are you fucking sure?"
"You two aren't gonna quit this guilt-tripping spree until I give in, right? Well, I can maybe call in sick at work sometime later for training."
"…" This time, I was the one who had to grope for words.
"And, Grimmy, tell me; are you still doping?" Starrk's inquiry just about jolted me completely awake.
"What kind of a question is that?"
"How about this: quit that shit and I might just make it in time for the next match." Starrk bargained. Right now it was impossible for me to assume I wasn't completely at his mercy, and so I complied, grinning widely,
"You've got yourself a fucking deal. Oh, and tell ya what, you son of a gun; I'll have you kick Kyoushin's ass fifty-five yards up their goal line, do you hear me? That's your fucking punishment for dickin' around for two years."
Really, I was so fucking happy I could kiss the bastard in the mouth, no shit. Apparently, the expletives I had uttered did nothing to affect Starrk's usual devil-may-care conduct. He answered just then,
"Aye, commander."
...
In the family hall where everyone was busy with his or her own gaming console,
"Can I borrow you for a while?" I asked stepbro.
"Like, now?"
"Yeah."
Ichigo shot his sister an apologetic look, and before long Karin was left to rely on the artificial intelligence to watch her character's back. In my room, it was Ichigo who spoke first.
"You look terrible."
"My team's playing Kyoushin Gakuen the day after tomorrow." I managed to spit out.
"So I've heard. Chad and Uryuu wouldn't shut up about it."
"The whole city thinks we're a joke beside the Twin Fuckers."
"The Twin Dragons. Chad wouldn't shut up about those two too. They're said to be the strongest in Kanto. They defeated my school last year in the quarterfinals, but was crushed in the Finals match by Genshijin Gakuen—when Madarame and MVP Katakura Asuka were deliberately smashed by a linebacker."
"Yeah, well, speaking of getting crushed, my team might just be next." I commented.
"You seem nervous. Wanna practice passes in the backyard?"
The offer didn't sound practical. Besides, I didn't need it. What I needed was peace.
"I'll skip."
"Black Ops?"
"Nah."
"Assassin's Creed?"
"Pass."
"Bed?" He finally offered, sounding thoroughly unsure of himself. At that, an insolent smile crept over my face. Then and there it was made clear I had to respond to this seduction, or else I was doomed to a nightlong anxiety. The next thing I knew was, I drew him to me, to kiss him at the side of his head.
"For this, you're getting a reward." I assured him.
"I wonder what that can be."
"Something hard, maybe."
If he had been equipped with a pair of ovaries I'd have gotten him pregnant dozens of times in the past week. Doubtless the idea of not having to resort to any form of contraceptives thrilled us both, but that was because we were stupid. While this immunity to consequences had no means of acquitting us of any guilt in any degree, we were young and careless most of all. This, of course, was a classic example of adolescent impunity. And yet, stupid didn't quite cover it; rather we were free of any guilt. Perhaps that in itself was dangerous. But neither of us cared one shit. As long as I could bed him anytime, for as long as I wanted, the world was mine for the taking.
After what must have been an hour, we were both ready to come down to dinner. Being able to fuck as frequently as we did was exactly the thing a devil like me needed. That was the line of thought my mind was presently tracing. And so now fully clothed and feeling less disgruntled by the impending ballgame, I followed Ichigo out my room, at the same time realizing I wasn't done messing around yet. I pulled him by the wrist.
"Jesus. We haven't gone two fucking steps from your door." He said, but the smile he was wearing ran counter against what he was saying. Sure enough, he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, and stood on tiptoe so that he could press his lips against my neck. All in all, we looked exactly like a couple of drunkards on our way out the pub, except that it also looked like we couldn't wait to go back to bed.
But a forestalled figure at the top of the stairwell brought us back to reality, and onto a clear realization of our grievous mistake; Karin was staring mutely at us, her lips parted slightly asunder. Ichigo's blood must have run cold, because he seemed to have lost the guts to budge another inch, if only to propose a different meaning behind our behavior. As for me, I found that the glare she was giving us had momentarily rendered me powerless. To top it off, I also could not pull away from her brother. And she, unable to articulate whatever it was that she was feeling, merely knitted her brows, pained perhaps. At length, she spoke,
"G—Grimmjow-san, some Shizuka called earlier. She asked me to tell you that you should check your cellphone's inbox."
The consistency of her manners, I was sure, was not commensurate with her current nerves. It was admirable that she had managed to string her words correctly, even as tremors had most likely hammered at her throat. Nevertheless, she cast a last, disappointed look at his brother before disappearing downstairs.
"What now?" I asked. For some sick reason, Karin's discovery was starting to intensify my thrill rather than remove it. Obviously, it was unlikely for Ichigo to share the same sentiment.
Eyes fixed on the floor, he said,
"Grimmjow, I think we at least owe her an explanation."
"Fine."
"By the way, who's Shizuka?"
The sound of her name coming from Ichigo's mouth carried a certain gloom. It was only now that Karin's message started to make sense to me. As things were, I had to lie,
"Assistant team manager. Well, you might wanna go down before me. I'll just check my phone and see what the fucking assistant wants."
It didn't take long before Ichigo took my word for it and left me alone. But at once I was struck by what awaited me, because my phone's inbox was flashing this message:
Meet me at Edomae Children's Park in 20mins. Urgent.
Urgent, for her, might have meant she was missing my cock so badly she couldn't stand it. To finally settle things with her, however, I had to face this shitty drama once and for all. And so I hurried out the house after dinner, in which Karin had thrown Ichigo and me suspicious glares all the long while. Well, fuck that.
…
I found her standing in the darkness, far away from the street lamp. Despite that, I discerned she looked awful and completely devoid of sleep, but it was her corporate attire that struck me as particularly out of place.
"What the hell do you want? Didn't I tell you I'd sooner fucking fail your subject than to pull some antics with you again?" I started.
With downcast eyes she was making every effort to appear fortified. And yet when she spoke all weariness inside her surfaced,
"Aren't you coming back to me? It's been so long and…"
"If it's sex you want, you can always dial XXX hotline. I'm sure the dicks they have there would have mine shrinking in comparison—"
"—You know what I want!" She burst forth heatedly, her ungainly manner nauseating.
"Apparently, I don't. Now, are we done here?"
"Grimmjow," She said, advancing in a cautious gait. I felt like flinching, but I gathered myself. At length she continued, "Is there someone else?"
To her credit, it wasn't a farfetched assumption if you considered my it's-fucking-over attitude, but the presence of a third person was hardly the reason why I was chucking this whore. The reason was plain and simple: I was done being used.
"None of your business."
"The least you can do is tell me!"
Her volume startled me. To further that, nothing in her tone suggested she was willing to be brushed aside. Fed up and irritated, I answered,
"Oh, you want it, then? Alright, here goes: I'm screwing someone else, someone younger and finer. Having said that, the fucking itself is more or less a hundred times more of a blast than anything you've offered me. Happy now?"
Because I was such a callous bastard, the agony that registered on her face amused me.
"Grimmjow, I loved you. I think I still do. We've been through so many trials. Just what did I do to deserve this?"
"You loved me? That's a surprise. I was sure you only had eyes for my cock."
She started to sob for real. Not a second sooner than she did this when I started to turn away, without one shred of fucking pity.
"L—let's start over again. I promise to be better." She pleaded shakily.
"There's nothing to start with. I was hot for you for a time—for a fucking time. Perhaps because you're older than me by a long shot. But that's that. If you want affection, go look for it somewhere else because it's the last thing you'll ever get from me. I'm a fucking heartless prick, and that doesn't require proofs."
"Are you in love right now—with the person you're sleeping with?" She asked all of a sudden despite my claim to heartlessness, her voice much straighter than how it had been minutes before.
With that disarming question my posture stiffened. Just then, my heart felt like jumping in and out my ribcage, and my mind was hoarding thoughts I had never entertained before now. If these sensations bore any sense of proportion to what I was truly hiding, it would seem only fair to admit my feelings, here and now, because even as I was a vindictive prick I had always made it a point to be honest as much as I could. My answer went like,
"Thanks for asking. Yeah, I maybe am suffering from that nasty thing you like to call love."
TBC
A/N: So Bleach manga is in hiatus, just when I was expecting to see Grimmjow or some other character from the Espada arc in the next chapter. Man. I'm sad.
