Hell Raiser

Kisame had seen that look before, but not for a very long time, and least of all not in any creature he’d classify as human. In the Shinobi world, different villages went about training their elite in different ways. The Yondaime Mizukage had devised an elegant method of weeding out the weak and nurturing the strong. It was in those earliest moments that Kisame had seen the look of a monster.

Much later in life he saw it again, in the shells of creatures pretending to be human. The Jinchuuriki, hosts to the tailed beasts and their monstrous chakra. No matter their sort, their reason to fight or personality when they did so, in those moments between man and Bijuu, you could see how devoid of humanity they were.

It was thrilling to see that at Pendulum, if only for a heartbeat.

He made no move to grab the shorter man again, but regarded him with a fierce intensity, all plans for a relaxing afternoon thoroughly shredded.

It was something that he had to keep under tight wraps here, his bloodlust, what with Pendulum being less forgiving with what was the norm in Hueco Mundo. In a way, it didn’t make too much of a dent in his life. Grimmjow didn’t take pride in senseless violence. Perhaps if he was that bored, sure, but in the end, it was the strength of the opponent that made it worth his while. He could elicit a hell of a lot more enjoyment out of a challenging battle with one than he ever could out of a thousand with weaklings.

The grin remained on his face, the Arrancar not once backing down.

“Ho? Must be a pretty hard life. So I take it you’re not gonna head in to get your ticket?”

Whoever this bastard was, it was clear to Grimmjow that he had to at least have a few tricks up his sleeve. There was strength in that muscle, and it might be worth his while to pry it out.

Grimmjow had given him a lot already, surprisingly. It wouldn’t have been out of the kindness of his heart either. Apparently Pendulum was a lot more sinister than it appeared on the surface, something a keen eye and equally sinister personality like Grimmjow would be able to snoop out. Ichigo was useless at that sort of thing. He’d happily joined Xcution without realizing his folly. Maybe this was a similar case? He cast a glance back at the school warily. No, too obvious, all schools were evil.

He wasn’t likely to get anything more specific from Grimmjow, not while he was in this mood. What information that had reached him might have been given in an attempt to keep him alive long enough to fight him. That was a sort of caring in a way, the smallest of grins tugging at his lips.

“I’ll be around, Grimmjow.” It was a reminder that even in a strange new place that might have the Arrancar on edge, there was something he might still understand. Someone familiar. At the very least it might give him a goal to keep him occupied, and a tiny plea to not try and burn the whole city down.

If Pendulum really was such a dangerous place..

Prey was supposed to show fear, and in the case of Kurosaki, display a willingness to fight. To never back down and to push on with a fiery temper driving his blade. All in order to live.

This? This was a joke.

Grimmjow turned his back firmly on Kurosaki, the wheels of his mind already turning, ready to concoct the next move he had to take. Obviously, if he wanted to keep the option of an alliance with the Shinigami open still, he’d have to toss out a bit more. 

At the rate things were going, with him being one of the two only Arrancar in Pendulum, he was severely outnumbered. 

He threw a glance over his shoulder, words clipped.

“Talk to Kuchiki if you want information. The tiny Shinigami has got a lot more to tell.”

There was a whole lot happening within Grimmjow that Ichigo didn’t really understand. He knew when it was wise not to hold on though, and let Grimmjow shove him back. It was probably better this way anyway, some distance between the two of them while the Arrancar cooled off. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m only 17,” he defended, peeved that what some other guys did however long should be any of his business. “And I’m not even really a Shinigami.” A substitute at best. Sort of how like the substitute teachers weren’t real teachers, right? “If you’ve lost your powers too, doesn’t that make you a human like me? We’re not so different.” If it really was just the differences that Grimmjow looked for to start a fight, maybe Ichigo could break some ground.

He was doubtful though.

“Grimmjow, wait.” He took a tentative step forward, careful to eye up the boundary between the school and Grimmjow’s beat-down zone. He hadn’t paid much attention to what Pandora had been saying, because in the end it was his own decisions that mattered. Aizen had told him everything was moving according to his plan, and Yhwach had told him that his decisions were just the makings of some future he was controlling. Pandora was just rewording the same old song and dance.

The only dividing line he saw amounted to whether one was classified as predator- or prey.

The former being solely himself.

“Ha!” Grimmjow hadn’t even bothered to hold back that scornful laugh.

“Goes to show how much you really know, doesn’t it? The world ain’t so small that it’s just Aizen and the Quincy that you’ve gotta worry about.”

No, from what he had learned, there were other powerhouses that lurked in the shadows, slowly biding their time. Even if he didn’t believe that the aforementioned could beat the likes of Aizen, they were still factors that Grimmjow had to take into account if he wanted to continue living.

Fact of the matter was, his allegiance was torn three ways now. He had to choose. The Shinigami, Aizen or Doflamingo.

Obviously, Aizen was out of the question now.

What the hell was that– “Mr Kurosaki, eyes up front!”

Ichigo was expecting this assault, having pretty much asked for it with his taunting. Lazily leaning backwards, he dodged the blow. It wasn’t much to boast, but Ichigo understand a part of Grimmjow. He wasn’t entirely sure how much of that was wishful thinking, but whenever he crossed blades with an enemy a part of their intent was conveyed to him.

Staring down the Arrancar, he listened intently to what he had to say. There was reason somewhere in his anger, Ichigo just had to find it. Even as he was  pulled closer, he listened warily.

“Of course I listened to her!” It wasn’t like he was given much choice, waking up in a strange room with a searing pain in his neck. “Doesn’t mean I understood anything she was saying. Something about time travel and the dead coming back to life– I’m not interested in any of that!” Others had boasted of powers just as grand, they’d all been knocked down eventually.

He couldn’t think clearly when he had bloodlust bubbling so close to the surface. What was this? It was as though a scrap of meat was being dangled right before him, and he wasn’t even allowed to rip it to pieces.

Not without bringing down a squad of cops to the area.

“Don’t be so naive,” he spat out bitterly, cerulean eyes glittering with unbridled anger. “Shinigami and Hollows have been fighting for thousands of years- that’s how it has always been. What other reason do we need to fight, huh?!”

It didn’t matter who they were. Hollow, Shinigami, Quincy-- in the end, Grimmjow would fight them. He’d fight them all- starting with this orange-haired punk.

A sneer crossed his features, and Grimmjow roughly shoved his hands in his pockets, just about ready to leave. If he wasn’t going to get to pound Kurosaki’s face into the concrete, there was no point in him staying here. Especially not to dish out any form of valuable intel. What he knew was none of Kurosaki’s damned business.

He’d sooner cooperate with that tiny Shinigami.

“Guess you’re the slow one around here,” he returned the mockery. “I believe Rusty made it all pretty clear for you to understand, Kurosaki. 

Kisame listened intently to each movie’s description, a clear sense of wonderment the obvious theme the creators had sought to convey. Fantastical ideas of men going to the stars, those of evil heart righting their wrongs, and even the supernatural. The people of this world were alike very few he had met. Clearly they hadn’t encountered adversity for some time, nothing else explained the carelessness they seemed to craft with.

Making a note to see how space was shown in this art (obviously it was impossible to actually traverse the stars) he took a moment to place a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder.

“It is wise to treat strangers with respect,” he cautioned, smiling all the same as he spoke. His appearance was usually a deterrent to anything other than whispered remarks. There were few with the gall to treat a man of his appearance with anything other than a timid tolerance.

This bastard clearly had no idea who he was talking to.

It didn’t matter how much the stranger towered over Grimmjow; where the former Arrancar was from, it was those who possessed a smaller, more humanoid form that ought to be feared. The best monstrous height could give was for show- for their powers drastically paled in comparison to their more diminutive counterparts.

That, and Grimmjow had devoured thousands upon thousands of Hollows, often scoring more than three times the catch of what his Fraccions-to-be could have managed. The punks had consumed about three thousand by the time they had stopped, whilst Grimmjow continued.

His eyes gleamed- a mere glimpse at his feral nature.

Still, it was true that he was practically human now. The same rules didn’t quite apply.

“Please state your emergency”

“Only if you leave there with them,” he replied, exasperated and grumpy. What was Grimmjow spouting now? Even if fighting was his primary drive, the Arrancar wasn’t stupid. He was dangerously cunning, it just so happened he ran off instinct more than anything. That was at least the feeling Ichigo got when they fought. “Last I checked she was with you.”

Now he was getting a funny look, one that Ichigo couldn’t place. It still had that murdery-feeling Grimmjow always wore, like a dirty sock, but there was something else.

“What’s wrong, did you hit your head against something as stubborn as you?” Maybe with everyone losing their powers, some of Grimmjow’s memories were taken as well. Arrancar were connected to their Zanpakuto more physically than Shinigami, right? Well, this might have been a side effect.

“Can it, you jackass!”

A swipe was made at the punk’s shirt, the enraged Arrancar dragging the kid up to his eye level, fingers bunched in fabric. What was this? What the hell was all of this? 

A vein throbbed in his temple, the Sexta’s temper bubbling once more.

“What’s with this, huh?! You think I’m your buddy?” The suspicions, the hints that he had gotten from past conversations-- all of it rose in the confines of his mind, swirling. He had tried to deny it, tried to ignore every single one of it, but now it was here. That sickly feeling that he had been experiencing underneath his skin had been blurted out right then and there, with a notable amount of lacking fear to back it up.

So he had really joined the Shinigami’s side, hadn’t he?

That meant Aizen had lost and for one reason or another, the Quincy had a lot to do with his reason for aiding Soul Society. That tiny Shinigami had said this Ywhach wanted to bring the end of the world, hadn’t she?

That was a good enough reason.

Whilst Grimmjow bore a lot of similarity to the navy soldiers she had avoided, with his broad shoulders and athletic jaw, he didn’t have the vague-eyed look they possessed. He was keen… he was ready. The blue-haired man was even grinning at the prospect of a match, reminding her eerily of the swordsman again. Some people really enjoyed fighting, didn’t they? Or perhaps, that was all that he knew, all that he could take pride in.

She was surprised that he would make such a request, considering that she had proven herself to be as dry and dusty as the books she enjoyed. Her limpid eyes glanced at him whilst deliberating on a reply. Her initial thoughts were always to decline any offer that included drinks with a person she did not know, or did not involve a business interaction of some kind. Grimmjow was far too cocky and belligerent to ever be a thoughtful conversationalist… but he was very unlike some of the awful pirates she’d had to deal with.

“Perhaps… there is a lot to think about,” she added after a little pause. She was never very good at social interactions and usually let her reputation speak for her or remain silent.

But Robin was curious to learn about his world, too. Maybe this time, she ought to make an exception for these unusual circumstances.

Life in Pendulum wasn’t all bad, but it can also be terribly mundane, what with the lack of-- well, anything familiar around. Strange as it was, along with the lack of powers, the absence of his zanpakuto and fellow Hollows, it felt as though he was missing a limb. Being without any of those was irritating, like an itch that he could not quite reach- so he had to put up with it.

Grimmjow had never been one for sentimentality, he’d say that upfront, but it was what it was.

Turned out that even shit like this could get to a loner like him.

He shrugged at her suggestion nonchalantly. It didn’t really matter to him what they did. He was bored, he had time and so did she. So why not?

“Sure. Coffee, or a movie, whatever works.” He didn’t mind Robin so far. Quiet, yeah, but still had just about enough for him to not mind talking with her a bit more.

His former Fraccion were mostly a stoic lot, so this was nothing new to him.

Ichigo’s jaw almost hit the floor, a finger dramatically pointed at Grimmjow as he struggled to process how his idiotic genius plan had come succeeded. Grimmjow must really have been in the same boat then, otherwise there wouldn’t be any law enforcement capable of stopping the Arrancar from getting what he wanted.

So caught up in his success, he allowed his guard to slip, copping a boot to the shin for his arrogance. Shouting out in annoyance, he hopped around on the other leg, careful to stay within the school grounds.

“Damn it, Grimmjow!” he yelled, rubbing his leg before firmly planting himself in front of the Arrancar again. “You’re as bad as Zaraki! Why don’t you pick a fight with him? We’re supposed to be on a team now! You don’t go picking fights with the other Espada!” What was he saying, of course Grimmjow picked fights with the Espada, he’d pick a fight with a sponge if he thought it’d put up a good enough struggle.

It was petty, a down right cheap shot, but considering the circumstances, it was just about all he had right now. At least until he could figure out a way to lop that motherfucking head off the punk’s shoulders. Without getting into a scrap with the authorities.

But that smirk was soon wiped off his face, Grimmjow’s sharp features turning into one of confusion as Kurosaki continued.

What?

“Nel?” Odelschwanck? That missing Espada? What did that have to do with anything? “What the hell are you talking about? You think I keep tabs on Hollows who go missing from Las Noches?”