Authors note: Hey, thanks everyone who reviewed =D Reviews make Avavado-chan happy and update faster, the reason this is so late was because I was holding out a while longer for a least ONE more! Aha :p
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, if I did Orihime would have less of a weird taste in food and more of a weird taste in clothes.
Observation is key;
Chapter four: Strange
It was not nine, but eight Espada I had counted upon their arrival – a miscalculation that become excruciatingly obvious as I plummeted to the floor, my body connecting with the ground painfully as I tumbled to a halt. I bit back a groan aware of my audience. My side ached in protest as I propped myself up on my elbows, I ignored it of course. I'd been through worse.
Slowly, I turned my head up, hearing the echo of boots connecting with the floor. He stood over me, his cold cyan eyes glaring down at me, a sneer present on his otherwise attractive features...if I hadn't been so sure at least two of my ribs were broken then I'm certain I would've been quite turned on. "Grimmjow" I muttered in acknowledgement, masking the pain I felt perfectly. The atmosphere now, was tense. That much I could tell. Grimmjow had never out-right attacked anyone before, no matter how angry the volatile man got.
Before I could protest he reached down, yanking me to my feet by the collar of my uniform. I bite back a yelp when he forced me against the wall, jostling my sore side. He leaned in close to me and I turned my head to the side, he hissed viciously in my ear now "twisted piece o' shit" I waited quietly, in the hopes that he'd eventually get to the point. Really, what was it with people and dancing around the subject these days? Admittedly, I do it too, but that's because I do it for my own amusement. I could not fight Grimmjow back, under any circumstances. Not because he would take it as a challenge and retaliate with a fatal force, but because I knew when I'd met my match. Grimmjow was much faster then myself. I would never be able to get close enough – or be able to get him to stay still long enough, for me to get a hit in...at least, in this particular unplanned confrontational situation.
"What is it you want?" I prompted, impatient. The last thing I needed was for the Espada to add to my humiliation.
"Like you don't fuckin' know" He growled threateningly, his fist clenching around the material of my shirt "Ilforte – you cut him up you-"
I rolled my eyes "I sewed him back together." I stated blandly, unimpressed with his antics.
He grabbed my neck gruffly, slamming me against the wall, I gasped loudly, winded. "He was my subordinate" Grimmjow whispered dangerously, taking my jaw tightly into his hand and speaking against my lips "What the hell did you do to him?"
Sighing, I smacked Grimmjow's hand away from my jaw, although he didn't move and inch, and I refused to be moved; so I spoke, my lips brushing against his own, in a matter-of-fact tone "It's called an autopsy." I said somewhat brightly "It's what you do to dead people who die of less then normal circumstances. I simply returned what belonged to you. Do with it what you will, Grimmjow"
Growling,Grimmjow clenched his fist, his hand still placed firmly at my neck – it was obvious it took at his self-restraint not to strangle me to death where I stood. "You're sick! Dumping his body on my doorstep like it was nothing-"
"-Is." I interrupted pointedly.
The Sexta's back straightened and he eyed me with a furious sort of incredulity "what?" his grip on my shirt loosened ever so slightly, and I quickly smothered the encroaching grin that I knew would surface on my face with an impatient sigh.
"Is." I reiterated for him, just in case he didn't hear me "he is nothing. Not was." Sadly, that was when all my attempts to keep my amusements hidden failed – the expression of pure fury on his face was just too funny. A small, twisted little smirk played its way across my features, and I'm positive that my delight was all too obvious, to everyone present.
Grimmjow's fist found its way quickly into my gut, and I bent double, gasping for breath; this wasn't funny any more. "You little shit!" Grimmjow yelled, too angry to care about the various on-lookers, of course, I doubt he every really cared at all. I hissed violently, as he took hold of my hair, yanking me up, so that I came eye-to-eye with him. Piercing azure gazed into smouldering amber for just one heated moment, Grimmjow raised a fist, preparing to strike again.
"Grimmjow." At that voice I ceased to breath, and it was more then obvious that it worried Grimmjow too as I winced slightly when his fist tightened in my hair, tugging at my roots painfully. Neither of us moved, our eyes never leaving one another. I could clearly see the hesitation and the frustration on his face, his scowl deepening, and on mine, I'm sure he saw a mixture of fear and relief. Never the less, I don't think I could ever have been happier to hear God's voice.
However, like most things, my happiness didn't last.
The Sexta's fist came flying at me – this time, my face. I raised my arms protectively, wishing against a bruise or, worse yet, broken cartilage. My eyes shut tightly.
It was in that next second that I felt an overwhelming pressure, the taste of evil thick in the air, palpable. I sank to my knees, and I lent forwards, bracing my palms against the ground. My vision blurred and my lungs failed me, but despite all these draw-backs, I saw Grimmjow, in much the same position as myself suffering, more importantly, like I was. Aizen-sama's reiatsu was a wonder...so sweet on the tongue, intoxicating....poisonous, yet....it tasted, in actuality, of very little.
My throat constricted painfully and I gasped for breath. It would seem that along with humiliation, my lungs wished to stage a mutiny. Of course, under circumstances such as these, time was not as issue, the issue here, really, was remembering to breath and more importantly, appearances meant nothing any more. The thickness of the reiatsu muffled everything – I could not feel the others. I could barely feel Grimmjow, right beside me. I glanced up – it took all my energy, but I saw, with an odd ping of fear, that his strong, sharp gaze was narrowed, in Aizens general direction – for once, I'm glad to report, Grimmjow's attention was not on me...
All too quickly it was over – the pressure lifted from my shoulders and my back and I took in a grateful gulp of air, suddenly aware of the cold sweat running across my brow. I stubbornly remained with my hands poised against the floor for support, the relief that washed through me threatened that my elbows would give-way. I heard Grimmjow's shaky breaths, ragged, like my own. Neither of us had quite enough strength to speak.
"I apologise, Szayel Aporro-kun," the silky voice of God sounded causing a chill to run down my spine, "it's such a shame you had to have been caught in that." I clenched my teeth and glared at the floor, furious. My form was shaking, visibly. Aizen-sama's reiatsu was immense. It was so free, so, unique, so....thick with fearlessness. Normally in a burst of reiatsu like that, one would usually get a feel for his enemies emotions, rage or murderous intent being the most common. Followed closely by sorrow of course. Not this time, however...Aizen-sama....his fearless nature, his bravery, his...nonchalance; tasteless. Addictive.
I briefly entertained the notion that Grimmjow angered Aizen-sama deliberately just so he could have...more...I wanted to laugh. Laugh, at how true it was that we arrancar...worshipped that fearlessness. Like it was a drug to us.
We're pathetic.
As Hollows we lived centuries of sleepless nights, fighting, feeding, surviving. And yet, for all our strength, we live in such fear. Fear of the loss of our rational mind, fear of death, again, fear that perhaps degeneration is a fate worse then death. So, I suppose it's only natural, when a Shinigami with such appealing reiatsu struts onto the scene...Act one, Hueco Mundo. The play begins. We grab at the opportunity, we want the easy way out because existence is just so...hard...
I would say we sold our souls to this man, but we never had any. We willingly gave our bodies, and our minds, to Aizen. We as Hollows allowed him to make us Arrancar, just so we could ride out existence without the constant fear...others may deny it, but I was frightened before my path crossed Aizen's in his half-built, disorganized little Fort. That's what Las Noches was at the time, a tiny insignificant little thing, at least, compared to it's current state, and we, his little army of toy soldiers. Begging, pleading to be used.
In the centuries he wasted away from us, we built him his prize. For him, our God. It disgusts me.
"Bastard..." I hear Grimmjow pant in front of me, knowing his comment was directed at Aizen-sama.
I heard a chuckle, Ichimaru-sama's distinct voice filling the meeting chamber with an eerie edge. He always managed to do that. I'm certain that Tousen-sama's face is twisted in distaste. But Aizen-sama's...now I look up, forcing my still-shaking body to co-operate as I sit back on the heels of my feet. God looked odd, with the look on his face of sort of amused tolerance that one would look upon a misbehaving child with. As if Grimmjow were a child, I mentally scoffed.
For a long moment, Aizen-sama said nothing, and I was able to gather myself enough to steady my breathing. "You are late, Grimmjow. Not only that but you attack a fellow Espada..." Aizen-sama continued, chin resting on a lightly fisted hand as he sat on his over-exaggerated throne. The Sexta says nothing, but his scowl deepens and his fists clench tightly. It was plain as day that he had a problem with me being a 'fellow' anything. Either that, or it was his intense hatred of Aizen-sama seeping through.
Of course, even I knew that no words that ever left Aizen-sama's mouth were ever sincere. In truth, he had not cared that I was punished, along with Grimmjow. Of that much, I was sure.
Still, Aizen went on "you also failed to cease your assault when I asked." He never asked, but very well. Whatever makes God happy. "Now, take your seat, you are interrupting Szayel Aporro-kun's briefing. If you follow my instructs now, I will not consider it a sin."
Without another word, Grimmjow shot to his feet, I could tell by his expression that he was trying extremely hard not to tell Aizen-sama to 'shove it', or perhaps something far more colourful. I internally gasped however, when I saw Grimmjow reaching for me again – my eyes only widened when he pulled me, by the back of my shirt, roughly into a standing position, forcing me, with an effortless push back into the wall, before turning and making it way back to his own seat.
I stood, staring after him, rather dumbly for a moment, before I realized that there were at least twelve people in the room watching me gape like a fish. It was then I decided, with a curt clearing of my throat, to gather the rest of my papers, and begin my lecture.
Largely displeased with the way the meeting had turned out – disastrous in every way imaginable. I still took pride in the fact that Aizen-sama seemed pleased with the results of my research, despite the fact that it was simply theory.
Walking down the hallways, as quickly as possible, without making it look like I was fleeing for my life, I looked back on what I had explained to everyone, not that many of them were listening. Halibel had been, Aaroneiro too, and Ulquiorra, all out of an obligation to please Aizen-sama, although, I must admit, Aaroneiro seemed genuinely interested. Barragan, listened occasionally, blatantly switching off when he'd lost his understanding of what I was saying. So, I had been concious enough to dumb it down, quite a bit, it seemed that the ancient Arrancar truly did want to understand. Nnoitra and Grimmjow (the Sexta left the room as soon as possible after I finished speaking), as I had expected, were bored with me as soon as I opened my mouth, so therefore, hadn't listened to a word I said. That's fine, of course. Yammy didn't even attempt to understand. He and I were both aware that he wouldn't care even if he did comprehend anything.
He was most familiar with phrases such as "bludgeon" and "crush" and "you" and, my personal favourite "Die bitch, die!" Ah, simple things for simple people, I always say. Stark of course, was trying to catch up on sleep, not that I minded. The Primera could've been dancing around in circles for all I cared, but, Stark being Stark, that was highly unlikely ever to happen at all. Again, the lack of interest presented itself.
Although, I suppose, instead of going into such detail that it would mean leaving the chamber five hours later, bored of even my own voice by the end of it, I could have simply summarised it. But, who am I to let Grimmjow off the hook so easily, hm? A few hours of mental torture was nothing at all compared to what I wanted to do to him. Mainly conduct unnecessary experiments on him to my heart's content, very slowly and very painfully killing him all the while. Yes, yes, it's morbid, I know – regardless, I don't think I quite deserved the pummelling I received.
In layman's terms, I had explained that in order to keep the semi-separated reiatsu particles from dispersing into Hueco Mundo's atmosphere, then the spirit particles would need to be held in place via electrical current. You see, an uncommonly known fact about reiatsu was that it was negatively charged, which is why we are able to manipulate it so easily as it flows from our bodies as we, Hollows, Arrancar and...Shinigami are positively charged beings.
However, while we are able to manipulate the reiatsu particles, it is highly impractical to have thousands of us pumping our energy into a largely ineffective shield on a daily, continuous basis as our defences would be considerably weaker if both lower and upper ranking arrancar are exhausted. Hence, the need for the electrical current, which will be easy enough to engineer so that it mimics the positive charges of our own bodies. So really, not only will the reiatsu shield tell us when someone is coming, but if they attempt an unauthorized entrance into Las Noches, then they will receive....quite the nasty shock.
At least now, I could finally get to work on constructing my wondrous machine.
I glanced up, sensing someone falling into step beside me – Nnoitra, his long, slow almost majestic strides contrasting my own, considerably shorter, faster now comparably graceless steps as I hurried along the hallway. Damn our ridiculous height difference "yes, Nnoitra?" I asked, pleasantly.
Beside me, the taller man shrugged, taller even as he slouched, boredom evident on his thin features. I could tell he wanted to say something, but was reluctant to do so. So I waited, barely managing to maintain my current level of patience as I continued of my way down the hall. "You didn't..." he said, his tone careful, as if he were actually, for once, taking the time to choose his words carefully "take too much of a beating, did you?" He finally asked. I would've smirked at the way the corner of his lips curled downwards slightly in distaste – he had clearly failed in trying to conceal his concern for me – had he not insulted me by merely voicing such a question.
Even though we both knew I would tease relentlessly now, my brows knitted together in anger "no." I stated, my amber eyes sharpening on his smoky grey ones, my tone showed nothing less then how utterly peeved I was that he would suggest weakness in me of all people "I did not." Of course, the aching of my ribs attested quite the opposite. I would've hit my ribs under any other circumstances for undermining me, but that would not help matters at all.
To save us both, Nnoitra scoffed "Yeah, whatever. Fine, I believe you."
After that we walked together in silence, although, I had no idea why, and didn't really care to find out. I was preoccupied with other things. Such as Grimmjow's strange behaviour in the meeting. Why had he, when he'd wanted nothing more then to throttle me, just moments before, helped me to my feet, even if he didn't quite manage to do so with a gentile quality. Of course, I wasn't the only one who was thinking things much along the same lines.
"I didn't know Ilforte died...?" Nnoitra stated, although, it sounded more like a question, clearly he was seeking confirmation, and I obliged with a nod. We were silent again for a long while. It took me a moment, but I was surprised when it occurred to me that the Quinta Espada knew who my brother was. He was never the type to express an interest in learning the names of anyone who wasn't serving under him or at the very least an Espada. I'd always thought that was why he'd insisted on referring to Halibel's fraccion as "Ini, Meani and Mini" or why Barragan's Findor and Ggio were "Big'n'little", as he'd explained to me one day, those two were rarely apart from each other, despite their obvious distaste for one another. Although it was obvious the pair had more going on.
"Yes," I elaborated "three days ago..." I opened my mouth on impulse to explain my findings to Nnoitra, but decided against it, and closed my mouth again, focusing my gaze on the floor thoughtfully.
Nnoitra, while uncaring, for the most part, was not stupid, he noticed my lips move and my hesitation, and he thought better then to point it out, "Grimmjow's acting funny" he compromised.
I nodded slightly in agreement, but waved my hand in dismissal "Think nothing of it," I advised "he's simply mourning for his favourite little fraccion." Nnoitra opened his mouth to protest but I raised my hand to silence him "Be careful," I said pointedly "I might make the mistake of thinking you're actually worried for me." I smirked, playfully. Obviously Grimmjow's little display in the meeting hall had not caught just my attention. Sadly, if Nnoitra thought that was strange behaviour, then I could be certain everyone else did to – well, perhaps, if I were lucky, it flew right over Yammy's head.
Again, Nnoitra scoffed, and this time, turned the next corner, down a different corridor, away from me and I was once again left on my own as I made my way to my tower. Clearly, Nnoitra was not about to willingly step foot into it just yet. We may have been...close acquaintances, with very rarely acted upon benefits, but Nnoitra wouldn't trust me as far as he could throw me. Besides, the lanky fool had Tesla to play with. The fraccion was considerably less dangerous then I was.
Flinging the large double doors leading to my tower open, I stepped inside, clicking my fingers as I continued on my way, so that a moderately sized nondescript fraccion of mine would shut the doors for me as he stated with a dumb but jolly voice, it was obvious that this particular fraccion lacked intelligence "Greetings, Szayel Aporro-sama~".
I paid it no mind as I stepped through the automatic doors which led to the lift which led to the upper levels of my tower. As I had said before, all I wanted to do now was sleep and ride out today's embarrassment. So, with that in mind, I found my way swiftly through the winding corridors and seemingly endless space to my bedchamber.
The journey from the meeting hall to my tower took me the better part of half an hour, considerably slower then my journey to the meeting hall from my tower, most likely because I was concentrating too hard on Grimmjow, and other such trifling matters.
Placing a hand on the handle to the door of my bedchamber I paused, to take a moment to breath and allow my shoulders to sag slightly in relaxation. I'm sure Lumina and Verona knew better then to come to me at the moment. I don't think I'll be seeing them for...roughly two to three, blissfully fraccionless days. Finally I opened the door and slipped inside slowly, closing the door with a quiet click and I toed out of my boots, which I left beside the door.
Stepping further into the room, I sauntered over to my dressing table and hooked my fingers beneath my shirt and pulled it over my head and onto the back of a chair with practised ease. After that I pulled my gloves off quickly, placing them on the table. Then I made quick work of the sash around my waist, placing it over the chair with my shirt, and slinked out of my hakama, which was quick to join the shirt and the sash. I wandered over to my walk-in wardrobe then and stepped inside, pulling an simple white silken shirt from a coat hanger. I slipped on the long-sleeved silken pyjama top, not bothering with the bottoms, as it was warm tonight, and besides; the shirt was long enough to be considered a rather...provocative dress.
The shirt itself was rather large for me, the sleeves stretched just over the tips of my delicate fingers. Buttoning the shirt up, I make my way back into my room, towards the bed and pulled back the covers, sliding beneath them easily. I laid back, facing the ceiling and I bought the blankets back up to rest at my chest. My arms lay on top of them, as I fiddled slightly with the ends of the sheets.
I'm not sure how long I lay there thinking, but eventually my eyes slide to a close, and my breathing eased and steadied. I was finally able to catch a decent night's sleep.
(A/N: I hope you enjoyed that! I'm rather proud of this chapter actually, I had so much fun with it! A big, big, big thank you to SendMoreParamedics, Tofu-master, crazykk2, Black Roses And Pits Of Fire and Converted for you brilliant reviews. So many giggles.
If anyone has any idea or suggests they'd like to share for the fic, please don't be shy! I would love to have a Muse to call my own~!)