Chapter Nineteen: Jaguar Reborn

"You're choosing football over me?"

"If you like to think of it that way."

That, I believed, had been our last conversation. On the same night, we had ended up in bed as if tomorrow would've had us face the same challenges, the same drudgery. In truth, I had decided to leave that world behind.

It felt like so long ago when in fact it had only been two years. I had moved to America with my biological father, in the hopes of having my football skills exploited to a more sophisticated level. Luckily, my so-called talents had been enough to warrant the attention of one of the more reputable universities in California. Thus for one lone stretch of time, I came to be a budding professional athlete of a promising reputation. This was not to say few ever came close to match my abilities. This was America, where Gridiron Football was serious business, which went to say I was simply one among those gifted, young athletes whose potentials had yet to be fully tested. All in all, that hardly made me exceptional.

Somehow I was now feeling a remorse such as only a disillusioned dreamer felt for those who were still unaware that they were chasing the wrong dream. At first, I had resolved to dedicate my entire self to football, heart and soul. Naturally, soon I came to attend wild parties, to mingle with the worst and the best of people and to allow myself to be seduced by many a temptation. Being a football jock automatically warranted me the best of privileges in the social circles I moved into. That was to say, I was always, always, on the brink of getting laid, but whenever I unzipped my pants I would even be more sure I had to zip it back. How many cunts had been offered me? How many hearts had I broken? How many women had left their men on account of me? How many times had I locked myself in the bedroom of some random house with a girl, only to end up backing out as soon as we'd reached third base? There had never been a fucking homerun. And then contrary to expectations, the women kept on coming, as if my regular refusal rendered me enigmatic, hard-to-get, the great catch. In truth, I couldn't stand the liberty with which these bitches were conducting themselves.

In truth, he was that one person to whom I could give the whole of myself.

Now, the NFL might have been keeping an eye on me, and yet the thought of it hardly made me forget about my motherland. Many times I had asked myself, 'Why did I ever leave Japan?' If I were to be honest, I'd say it was because I had wanted to run away from the mess I had made out of my life. The fact was, having been elected high school MVP had done nothing to erode the sense of defeat that had been plaguing my soul. I could even argue that that bogus award had been handed to me because I had sacrificed my arm. It then followed I had owed being an MVP to Edrad Liones.

One might assume I had lost all sense of proportion in my outlook in life the moment we had lost against Karakura Gakuen. The fact was, from that defeat many a realization had entailed: we lost because we weren't good enough; I wasn't good enough, just as I had been inadequate to overcome the trials thrown my way. When this self-sympathetic nitshit had finally run its course, I came to realize running away wasn't the only option in sight.

There was always the choice to come back, and be the asshole I had once been. Upon hearing of my change of heart, Sousuke merely glanced at me. "Pops, I'm going back to Japan." was the best thing I could come up with. If I had had it in me to be entirely shameless, I would've said he was amused.

"We really are father and son."

"What?" Taken aback, this was all I managed to say. But the way he was looking at me had me figuring he was lonesome enough to tell me his whole story. And so he did,

"When your mother ultimately decided she had to screen me out of her life entirely, I repaid that affront by trying to turn my back too—by running away, so to speak. Of course I did make it a point to pay child support but, all the same, I was determined to never personally see her face again and to conduct minimal correspondence between us. And then two years ago, I found myself flying to Japan and asking for the son I had never seen in person. I guess first love is really hard to let go of, isn't it?"

"I don't get it." I forced myself to say. Really, he was sounding creepy, aside from making me nervous. Just why was he blithering around with this 'first love' crap? Did he manage to somehow guess that my head, ever since I had set foot here, had been filled with thoughts of a certain someone day-in and day-out?

"Let's just say, the secondary reason for my wanting to be a part of your life is my desire to keep a connection with your mother. Don't get me wrong, son; I'm not in love. But maybe, just maybe, it's safe to assume that a part of me, particularly that eighteen-year old lad inside me, still yearns for those short summer days where she and I knew so much joy."

What a creepy dude. That aside, I was sure he was giving me his consent.

Yep, I was gonna return. I had to go back to the football I knew, to the people in my life, to Ginjo Kugo in order to settle the unresolved business between us.

To Ichigo Kurosaki, ultimately.

Ulquiorra wasn't the sociable type, not even behind a monitor and a fucking keyboard, hence it didn't come as a surprise when it took him two whole weeks to return my email. I told him I needed someone to pick me up from the fucking airport one month thence. His initial response to the news of my return was nothing quite worth noting. He did, however, ask what my reasons were, to which I readily supplied him the answer he needed: I was going to settle down in Japan. For that, I was called a moron whose blunders in life were due to the opportunities I was stupid enough to pass on. I then told him I was going to wring his neck as soon as he showed himself at the airport.

—One month later—

The Narita International Airport was, of course, buzzing with passengers. My head felt light from the fifteen-hour flight, but what made everything worse was the amount of people on the floor. I was lucky to make it to the arrivals area without having to yell at strangers. Once there, I kept my eyes peeled for Ulquiorra. And there he was. In spite of the array of neatly dressed men around him, and despite the posture of meekness which made him seem smaller than he truly was, Ulquiorra made his presence felt by me by appearing like some stone statue amid the hustle and bustle.

"You've grown leaner." Was the first thing he said.

"And you've grown prettier and taller. How are you and Starrk?" I was smirking as I said this. Indeed, his longer, pony-tailed hair rendered him more attractive than ever.

But although he ignored me, he was kind enough to relieve me of one of the many carry-on items I had brought. Several minutes later, we were pelting down the highway for a two-hour drive to our hometown. He started, his eyes fixated on driving,

"Let me get this straight; you're forfeiting University of South California for what?"

This was a question I wasn't prepared to answer. I was coming home as a third-year college student, in the hopes that some obscure university here in Kanto would accept me and accredit the units I had covered in my previous school. At almost twenty-one years old, I was yet to be in the prime of my youth therefore I was, once again, going to rely on my athletic capabilities to back me up.

"And what about you? What are you doing in Keio University? You could've made it to Tokyo U without a fucking sweat."

"Would you answer my question if I answered yours?"

"Sure, why not?" I said, with a voice that both mocked and wondered.

"I wanted to be with Starrk."

"…"

That really did shut me up. Starrk, as a matter of fact, was now playing for Keio U's football team and was likely to be team captain next year. But I no longer felt inclined to make sniding remarks in reference to their ambiguous relationship, nor to point out the errors in the choice Ulquiorra had made. In the very heart of things, he was doing what his heart had told him to. All the same, it didn't change the fact that he himself had made a blunder in the very least. I mean, he had to screw up at some freaking point in his life, right?

"Your turn."

"Football, I suppose."

"Really. And you are one hundred percent sure that the college football here would bring more satisfaction to you in the long run than the college football over there in Cali?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

It was his turn to sneer now. Despite that, I knew he'd understand me but still I felt that, even when he was speaking bluntly, he hardly saw it fit to side with me. For a moment there, I wanted to be rid of Ulquiorra, and yet I found a certain comfort in talking to him, as though we'd been alone like this way before through other occasions, in other places. And so I reasoned,

"That game against Karakura Gakuen killed me—in a way. There's no use elaborating, as no one apart from myself can really understand or interpret the extent of what went inside me when we lost. But let's just say on and on the realizations poured down. Subsequently I was forced to do for myself what others could not; I attempted to forget everything—by turning my back. Eventually, however, it occurred to me that running away wasn't the answer. If I wanted to be free of the shit that haunt me, I had to face it. It took me two years' worth of stay in California to realize that much. Yes, you could say I've come back to right the wrong… to win a championship and pluck out a thorn in the side." I withheld from Ulquiorra's knowledge another deep reason for returning; I so desired to shove Kugo's face into the dirt in whatever means I could find. The truth was, I'd never really forgiven him for kissing Ichigo on that fucking parking lot.

"Passion is a wonderful force." He said.

Silence enclosed us for several minutes until my voice pierced through it, as I was itching to broach the subject,

"So… in one of Starrk's emails, he mentioned that Kugo, Hisagi, Madarame, Tsukishima, Omaeda and Abarai all attend Hitotsubashi University. All them fucking big names. The most exceptional high school football players of my time crowding in in one team. In short, an army of aces. Tell me they're not trying to build an empire of the best college football team in Japan."

"As a matter of fact, they are."

I rubbed my chin, imagining for myself the excitement this info held for me. Of course I could not deny that the alliance between these athletes was some kind of a monstrosity. Still…

"Interesting."

"In the elimination round last season, they swept us—Keio University—without so much as dispatching their first-stringers on the field. Tell me, Grimmjow, are you going to enroll at Hitotsubashi? Their scouts would break their necks to get their hands on a high school MVP, and USC's quarterback at that too."

I could tell he was awaiting my answer with what suspense his nature allowed. For my part, I could not, in honor, surrender myself to such an enterprising league of athletes…much less forsake Starrk. Indeed, I would never betray Starrk even if my life depended on it. To cut the suspense, I turned the radio off, and went on,

"What, to be teammates with Kugo? Did you for a fucking second think I'd rest content with being a reserve quarterback?"

"You were named MVP instead of him. Maybe he'd be the reserve."

"That bullshit award was nothing more than a consolation prize for my injury."

"You know it's not."

He was right. In the course of two years, I had come to understand why I had been named MVP. But I brushed the topic off, and said,

"Whatever. Anyway, by now Hitsugaya Toshiro is graduating from high school."

"In a few days, in fact. He is the reigning MVP of the High School League."

"I will need his speed." I declared.

"…" Ulquiorra did not speak, his eyes darting at me every so often.

I continued, "I believe Yumichika Ayasegawa, who lost the MVP title to Hisagi in their senior year, is currently attending your school too. And then there's the murderer Kira Izuru. What is he doing in Keio anyway?"

"I'm not so sure, Grimmjow, but he no longer plays the quarterback position."

"Good. Moving on, Ganju Shiba has chosen to follow your BF. Edrad Liones seems to be leaning on joining you guys instead of Hitotsubashi, if Starrk's words could be relied upon. So what is this, some patch-up array of pseudo-aces created for the sole purpose of matching Hitotsubashi's unbelievable roster? Is this the kind of challenge Starrk is so fond of brewing? My, my, isn't your boyfriend plunging into his captain duties one year too early?"

"Who knows, really?"

"You're telling me you know nothing about what's behind this? Your skills in digression have lost its gloss, hasn't it, Ulquiorra?"

"Maybe you ought to ask Starrk and these dudes you've mentioned as to why they're flocking together in one university… did I mention Gio Vega is enrolling there as well?"

I had to laugh out loud. For the last two years, I had been getting email updates from Coach Muruguma as to how my former team, the Nagano Panthers, had been faring along. With a smirk across my face, I continued, "From where I stand, Keio University has, or is slated to have, a line-up that could rival Hitotsubashi's, except that they're wanting of a superb quarterback. I heard your current QB is second-rate." I just could not help the viciousness that crossed my lips. Really. A person like me was exactly what Keio University needed. Although the idea in my head suggested no immediate reality, there was no way I'd allow myself to be abashed this time. Not now.

Having realized I was, in point of fact, whoring myself as the next premier quarterback of his university, Ulquiorra said, "I can attest to that. Anyway, try-outs are going to start on Tuesday. It appears you've arrived just in time. Looks like it's you, me and Starrk all over again."

"I was scheduled to be first-string quarterback of the USC Trojans upon my third year, asshole. What kind of coach or manager in his or her right mind would degrade me as to require me to attend a fucking try-out?"

"For formality's sake. In any case, it seems your and Starrk's priority is to successfully recruit the Hitsugaya kid—to ultimately prevent him from getting lured by Kugo and his army of gods."

"Toshiro Hitsugaya was whipped around by Hisagi Shuhei in his rookie year, right in front of everyone's eyes. One year later I was told the same thing had happened. Do you really think he is so blinded by ambition that he would join the star-studded Hitotsubashi, only to yield the premier RB position to the very same man who has seared a scar on his ass? Hitsugaya is mine; make no mistake about that."

Ulquiorra perhaps had to contain his delight, otherwise he'd appear completely out of character. Although he was the type who never spoke of affairs until he was asked, even pressed, he offered,

"Let's see the look on the face of Keio's coach once the Jaguar King returns from the dead to show up in the try-outs, with the Baby Genius beside him."

Far away form his knowledge, my mind was now gadding somewhere else.

Wait for me, Kurosaki, I all but blurted aloud.

TBC