The morning sun cast its rays across the white tiles of the training grounds, creating a dazzling display. A cool breeze swept in from the desert, gently lifting Rain's long, curly ringlets. With her purple eyes scanning the surrounding expanse of sand, her thoughts drifted to the same individual who had occupied her mind since their first meeting. She hadn't seen Grimmjow since he was summoned to the Espada meeting the previous evening, and the memory of his heated kiss sent a shiver down her spine. She quickly shook it off—she had work to do.

Her focus should be on the reasons for the meeting, not the unspoken desires they had been dancing around for weeks. Just then, she felt the familiar chaotic energy that signaled his approach, surprising her; Grimmjow was notorious for being late, especially for new recruit duties. She caught sight of his characteristic grin as his blue eyes locked onto her, and he altered his course to head straight for her. As Grimmjow drew closer, Rain couldn't help but notice the sharp edge of irritation in his demeanor, like a storm brewing on the horizon. Someone or something had pissed him off.

Rain could feel the anger radiating off Grimmjow in waves, a palpable pressure that crackled around him like static electricity. Those poor recruits had no idea what hell awaited them. Running drills under Grimmjow's supervision was bad enough, but having to deal with a pissed off Grimmjow? Death would be a kinder fate. Or was it the same thing?

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. While most Hollows found Grimmjow terrifying in this state, Rain found him amusing. She could feel the fury pulsating from his heavy, deliberate footsteps, reminiscent of a petulant child pouting because he didn't get his way. A six-foot-tall, chaotic, and dangerous child.

Before he even reached her, she could sense that whatever was bothering him had to do with Aizen denying him something. Knowing Grimmjow, it was likely that physical violence was on his mind—hence his eagerness to be the one to carry out whatever task needed to be done. Whatever the meeting was about, it had clearly struck a nerve.

As Grimmjow passed a group of recruits headed by his fraccion, Shawlong approached, briefly trying to speak to Grimmjow. But with a dismissive wave of his hand, Grimmjow brushed him off, continuing his annoyed stride until he stood beside Rain, leaning against the wall with a scowl etched deep on his face.

"I'm assuming the Espada meeting went well?" she ventured, attempting to lighten the mood.

Grimmjow shot her a glare, clearly unamused by her attempt at humor.

"So, I guess that's a yes?" she pressed, her tone teasing.

He huffed in frustration. "Aizen's finally making his first move."

"Oh?" Rain arched an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Yeah. He's sending Espada to attack a village in the human world."

Rain felt her curiosity spike. "I'm guessing you're not one of them?"

Grimmjow's expression darkened further. "He's sending Ulquiorra and that fucking moron Yammy." He growled, fists clenching. "Son of a bitch finally makes a move, and shit starts to get fun, and he sends them. It's bullshit!"

Rain watched as his anger simmered, the tension in his muscles evident. She knew he'd been itching for a real fight, and this was just the kind of chaos he thrived on.

"Do you really think Aizen will keep you out of the action for long?" she asked, trying to gauge his mood.

Grimmjow crossed his arms, a defiant glint in his eyes. "If he does, I'll make sure he regrets it. I'm not sitting on the sidelines while those idiots get all the fun."

Rain could see the storm brewing within him, a tempest that promised destruction if left unchecked. She couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and concern for the chaos that was Grimmjow.

"Just be careful, alright? I don't want to have to come bail you out when you inevitably go too far."

He scoffed, a smirk breaking through his anger for a fleeting moment. "You think I need saving? I'll be the one dishing it out."

As the sun hung low in the sky, casting shadows over the training grounds, Rain couldn't shake the feeling that the calm before the storm was about to end, and Grimmjow was the eye of that storm.

...

Rain moved purposefully down the vast corridors of Las Noches, her mind preoccupied with the next set of drills she planned for the new recruits. With Grimmjow in one of his moods, Rain took charge of the Fracción and recruits, organizing the day's drills and directing their training. She was barely a few steps away from the training grounds when she sensed the heavy, oppressive presence in her path, a darkness that seemed to absorb the very air around it. Barragan loomed ahead, his cold gaze fixed on her as if he had been waiting for this exact moment.

"Rain," he drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. "I think it's time someone reminded you of your place."

She met his gaze with an unflinching calm, though every instinct in her was on high alert. "I wasn't aware I'd forgotten it," she replied smoothly.

Barragan's lip curled into a sneer. "After the little show you put on with Nnoitra? You humiliated one of our own—one of our finest. His expression darkened. "you think that's something I'll overlook?

"Nnoitra brought that on himself," Rain replied coolly, her voice edged with steel. "I'm not here to bow down to anyone, least of all someone who steps out of line."

"No, but you don't seem to have any problem bowing to a Shinigami, do you?"

There it was again—the hypocrisy he could never seem to see. Barragan's eyes narrowed, his spiritual pressure spiking with deadly intent.

"I haven't forgotten your outright defiance, your refusal to kneel before me," he spat. "And you, a mere Fracción, dare to carry yourself like an Espada—as if you could ever compare to me?"

Rain's tone stayed cold, unfazed. "Aizen assigned me this position. If you have a problem with it, take it up with him—the one who actually rules Hueco Mundo."

The insult was barely off her lips before Barragan's reiatsu surged in a suffocating wave, forcing nearby Arrancar to stumble back. He lifted his hand, issuing his challenge. "You're nothing but an Espada's pet. A tool meant for the dirty work, maybe even a bed warmer when useful. I think it's time I show you just how easily replaced you are."

Rain's hand twitched toward her blade, but before she could even draw it, another figure moved into her line of sight—a streak of blue and white. Grimmjow, his fists clenched, muscles taut with barely-contained rage, placed himself squarely between her and Barragan.

"Back the fuck off, old man," he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "You think I'm gonna stand by and let you touch her?

Barragan raised a brow, a low, condescending laugh escaping him. "Grimmjow, even you must realize you're in over your head here."

""I know damn well who I'm dealing with," Grimmjow shot back, his voice steady, though Rain could feel the tension simmering beneath it. He knew the odds weren't in his favor, but he was ready to fight all the same. "You wanna get to her? Then you'll have to go through me first."

Rain's heart pounded, but she kept her face calm, her fingers brushing Grimmjow's arm. "Grimmjow," she murmured, her voice soft yet firm, "stay out if it."

He barely glanced at her, his murderous gaze fixed on Barragan. "Shut it, Rain. I'm not letting this bastard lay a finger on you." His grip tightened on Pantera, preparing to release. He knew he didn't stand a chance, even in Resurrección, but protecting Rain was all that mattered. His own safety didn't factor in—an odd shift for someone like Grimmjow, who'd never put anyone else before himself. Yet here he was, willing to throw everything aside without hesitation. He was ready to tear the old king apart.

"Grind—"

But Rain didn't let him finish.

Rain's hand shot out, catching Grimmjow's arm in a powerful grip that stopped him in his tracks. Her reiatsu surged around them, thick and suffocating, like an unyielding wall of energy. Grimmjow's eyes widened, momentarily stunned by the sheer force radiating from her. The intensity of her grip and the weight of her reiatsu made his muscles lock, his body frozen under her control—iron-strong, yet deceptively gentle.

Her voice was steady, a firm edge underlying her words. "Grimmjow, I said I'd handle this." Her purple eyes softened slightly as they met his, her gaze steady. "I don't need you to protect me."

Grimmjow held her gaze, his jaw tight, but before he could protest, she vanished, reappearing beside Barragan with her dual swords drawn.

"Go ahead, Barragan," she challenged, her tone calm. "Get it out of your system, so we can move past this."

A dangerous smirk crossed Barragan's face as he wasted no time, lunging forward with his massive axe. The weapon blurred through the air with staggering speed, but Rain met his strike head-on, her dual swords crossed to intercept. A loud clang echoed as she absorbed the force of the blow, her blades forming a shield against the broad surface of his axe.

Grimmjow stood tense on the sidelines, his sharp blue eyes following every rapid movement, barely able to track Barragan's attacks and Rain's counters. The shock of seeing her handle herself so effortlessly against Barragan stirred something raw in him—surprise, admiration, and a lingering aggression toward the old tyrant that was barely held back. He'd drawn Pantera, prepared to jump in at any second, yet as Rain continued to dodge and parry Barragan's deadly swings, Grimmjow began to question if he'd even need to. Still, a growl rumbled low in his throat, instincts clawing at him to step in, to defend what he fiercely claimed as his own.

Barragan's axe slashed through the air, just barely missing Rain. The sheer force of the swing cut through the silence, followed by a loud clang as her dual swords intercepted the blade. Grimmjow's fingers clenched around Pantera's hilt, his aggression simmering just below the surface, the need to protect her gnawing at him. It was a strange feeling—watching someone else, someone he cared about, stand toe-to-toe with a creature like Barragan. But he didn't move, not yet. He kept his weapon ready, watching her movements, silently waiting for even a hint that she might need his help.

Barragan's expression shifted, rage twisting his features as he realized his swings were missing, his attacks met with nothing but Rain's swift counters. A look of pure fury flared in his eyes as his reiatsu pulsed dangerously, radiating across the training grounds. Rain's breathing, though slightly faster, remained steady, her eyes never leaving him, calm and calculating.

Grimmjow's gaze narrowed as he watched the exchange, noting how easily Rain managed to handle Barragan's brute strength. His chest tightened as Barragan swung again, only for Rain's dual blades to once more catch his axe mid-swing. He knew she was holding her own, but the primal urge to protect her still gnawed at him, every instinct screaming that she was his to defend, no matter how capable she proved to be.

"Is this how cowards who hide out in the Menos Forest fight?" Barragan's voice drilled through the air, tinged with a simmering rage that bled into his movements. His attacks grew sharper, each swing more ruthless and deadly. But Rain, with her quick reflexes, calculated gaze, and quick sonido, refused to give him a single target, slipping past his every attempt.

His anger surged, breaths turning louder, more ragged—driven as much by fury as by exertion. Rain, though her breathing quickened, remained composed, her gaze steady and focused. Barragan, surprisingly, was easy to read; each strike had become increasingly sloppy, his attacks predictable, their precision waning as his frustration took control. She watched his blind rage building, noted the bruising of his ego, each failure stoking his pride's fury. The audacity of this Fracción forcing him to exert himself—no, more than that, to fail even with effort—pushed him closer to the edge.

With a growl that rumbled like distant thunder, Barragan's reiatsu burst forth in pulsing waves, crimson tendrils rippling through the training grounds. His spiritual pressure intensified, red waves radiating out, drawing the attention of every Hollow in the vicinity. His glare fixed on her, his tone laced with venom, "Is this all you've got—running? Hit me, you arrogant bitch!"

He swung a brutal strike aimed directly at her head, the dual heads of his axe close enough to slice a single strand of her hair. Rain remained utterly unfazed, her purple eyes sharp, focused, and calculating, barely acknowledging the near miss.

The immense spiritual pressure radiating from their fight began to tear into the training grounds around them. The tiles beneath their feet fractured under the strain, sending shockwaves that rippled across the ground. Cracks splintered up nearby pillars and walls, fragments falling as raw energy reverberated through the air. The battle was drawing too much attention, Rain knew, and she took the briefest of pauses—just long enough for Barragan to seize an opening. The edge of his axe caught her shoulder blade, the strike grazing her skin and drawing first blood.

But any satisfaction that might have crossed Barragan's face was wiped away in an instant as Rain's boot crashed into his jaw, cutting his triumph short. The blow sent the former king hurtling to the ground, shattering tiles in his wake, a cloud of dust and debris billowing around him.

In the blink of an eye, he was on his feet again, rage twisting his features into something nearly unrecognizable. They were far past mere posturing or attempts to establish dominance—this was no longer about putting someone in their place. Barragan's wrath had consumed him entirely. He wasn't just going to teach her a lesson. He was going to kill her.

Rain began to notice the onlookers, their eyes locked on the fight, though they kept their distance. Among them, Grimmjow was the closest, his jaw clenched tightly, blue eyes narrowed as they tracked every movement with intense focus.

Barragan launched into a new flurry of attacks, his fury fueling each strike with greater power; his murderous intent seeped through the ferocity of his blows. Rain felt the weight of his rage, and it only spurred her resolve. She was well aware of the restrictions placed on the Espada when battling within Las Noches, and the crumbling structures around them served as undeniable proof of the chaos they were creating.

As another attack whistled past her, Rain seized the opportunity to try to end the confrontation. "This is going too far, Barragan. We need to end this!"

But her words fell on deaf ears. He ignored her completely, his relentless assault continuing as he aimed blow after blow at her, pouring more spiritual pressure into each strike. It was as if he was blind to the damage unfolding around them, consumed by his anger and intent to prove his strength.

That's when she felt it—his presence. Or had he been there the whole time? Rain had been so absorbed in the fight that she hadn't even noticed the amber eyes silently watching the confrontation unfold.

As her purple eyes locked with Aizen's, she was taken aback by the calm amusement that danced in his depths, an emotion she hadn't anticipated. She had expected something entirely different.

Barragan swung another blow with his axe at Rain. "Look at me, you stupid bitch!" he shouted, his voice filled with rage.

Rain's focus snapped back to the fight, her dual blades intercepting Barragan's axe with a resounding clash. "We need to stop! Aizen is watching!" she urged, the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

"Do you think he's going to save you?" Barragan retorted, swinging another blow that Rain narrowly dodged with a quick sidestep.

"Barragan…" she began, but he cut her off with yet another swing aimed directly at her face. She could feel his spiritual pressure escalating, a palpable force that filled the air with tension. The watchful gaze of Aizen seemed to intensify Barragan's aggression, fueling his need to kill her. He was being humiliated, right in front of Aizen, and that was unacceptable to him. Here he was, the former king, engaged in a fight where he didn't have the upper hand against a mere fracción.

Aizen's presence only fueled Barragan's fury further. With his face twisted in rage, he swung his massive axe once more, each movement driven by the intensity of his emotions. His breaths came in heavy, uneven gasps as he sought to land a blow. Rain could feel his frustration mingling with his spiritual pressure, a volatile mix that heightened the stakes of their battle. He charged at her again, swinging the axe with renewed vigor, each blow laced with the determination to crush her spirit. She could sense the deadly intent behind his strikes, his desire to finish the fight escalating as he poured more energy into his attacks.

But Rain remained undeterred. Her reflexes were sharp as she deftly sidestepped his onslaught, using her agility to counter his powerful swings. Each time Barragan aimed for her, she found a way to evade, her own spiritual energy surging as she shifted into the offensive.

Rain could feel the strain of his relentless efforts as he threw himself into each blow, the damage to their surroundings a testament to the chaos they were creating. She saw his frustration building; the king was losing his composure, his movements becoming more reckless, more desperate.

In a calculated moment, Rain seized the opportunity to disarm him. She swept low, catching the haft of his axe with one of her zanpakutōs, twisting it from his grip and sending it flying from his hands. In a heartbeat, she had the other blade pressed against his throat, a cold warning that he had lost this fight.

"Stop this," she demanded, her eyes locking onto his with fierce resolve. "You've lost. You need to accept that."

But Barragan's pride refused to falter, his gaze filled with defiance. "I won't yield, especially not in front of Aizen!" he growled, his spirit unbroken despite his precarious position.

As he prepared to unleash his zanpakutō, a calm, commanding voice pierced the tension in the air. "Enough, Barragan."

Aizen's words were sharp, slicing through the chaos and landing heavy in the silence that followed. Barragan hesitated, caught between fury and submission, as the implications of Aizen's command settled over them.

"Step down," Aizen ordered, the authority in his tone brooking no argument.

With a final, furious glare at Rain, Barragan reluctantly backed away, lowering his head in defeat. The tension that had dominated the arena began to dissipate, replaced by a collective exhale from the onlookers who had witnessed the volatile clash. Rain held her ground, her blade still poised, but the fight had come to an unexpected halt, leaving both combatants to grapple with the fallout of their confrontation under Aizen's unwavering gaze.

"Barragan, Rain, come with me." Aizen's voice sliced through the aftermath, firm and unyielding.

Barragan followed closely behind Aizen, his anger from the defeat still simmering beneath the surface. Each step he took was heavy with the weight of humiliation, the memory of Rain's blade at his throat fresh in his mind. He shot a final, furious glare back at her, his pride wounded yet refusing to shatter completely.

Rain turned her gaze to Grimmjow, who stood at the edge of the training grounds, his expression a tumult of surprise, anger, and a hint of betrayal. The look in his blue eyes was unsettling, a mixture of deceit and confusion that made her stomach twist.

With a heavy heart, she gave him one last look, before turning away and following Aizen and Barragan, leaving behind the tension of their fierce confrontation and the unease gnawing at her conscience.