Oh kitty cat~
Title: Smoke and Mirrors: Chapter Two
Pairing: Akon x Grimmjow
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, I only steal its characters so I can go on perverted conquests via fan fics. Also, all characters involved in sexual situations are fictional and above the legal age of consent in the state of California, regardless of what age these characters may be in the material they are derived from.
A/N: My experimental one-shot with Akon and Grimm decided to turn itself into a multi-chapter fic. I'm really starting to fall for this pairing hard. Hopefully other people fall too. :D
← Chapter One
Two days have passed since I last saw the Arrancar known as Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. In those two days the thing has undergone countless experiments and tests. I'm assuming that during its first week here, Kurotsuchi-taichou spent most of his time studying the other "spoils of war" from Hueco Mundo. What little experiments had been done on the former Espada in that first week, were now heightened tenfold.
I wasn't around for most of them; my captain likes it better when he can oversee those proceedings on his own. And by "on his own," I mean with Kurotsuchi Nemu trailing his side. It really doesn't bother me any and I've been able to do my own work in relative peace. There is however a howl every now and then; a roar, a bark of unrestrained laughter. That last sound has a small smirk tugging at my lips, despite myself.
I don't really know what Kurotsuchi-taichou's been doing to the Arrancar. Naturally, I'm curious. Curious about what studies have been conducted, and how the former Espada has performed. Or if it has at all, the thing seems pretty stubborn. I imagine it gives my captain a good run for his money. And judging by the noises I hear every thirty minutes, the thing has yet to be beaten into submission. Kurotsuchi Mayuri has a cruel way about him, especially when it comes to observing his specimens, so it's pretty impressive that Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez is still able to laugh.
Leaning back in my chair, I fight down a yawn and reach over to tap my cigarette over a small ashtray. While contemplating taking a break from my research, I hear faint voices coming from the hallway outside. I remain silent as I listen, soon realizing that it's both the captain and vice-captain. I can't tell what they're saying, but I know it's them, and every now and then I hear an uttered "Espada." When their voices grow distant, to the point that they fade completely, I snub my cigarette and get up. Walking to the door I slide it open quietly, before sticking my head into an empty hallway. For a minute I wait, considering the situation, briefly wondering where they went. Then before I know it, I'm closing the door behind me and making my way towards the research room where Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez is being held.
This time I don't have to switch on the lights. That glow at the back of the room is already burning brightly. The Arrancar looks in my direction when I enter the room, and I hear it growl lowly, the sound coming from somewhere deep in its throat. I tuck my hands inside of my lab coat as I near the pane of glass, and I can't help but finger the pack of smokes resting in the pocket.
"I didn't expect ya back so soon," the former Espada mutters. Its characteristic grin creeps into view. "Miss me?"
"Not precisely," I respond, tilting my head just a little. "I was wondering what all the noise was about."
Eyeing the creature before me, I notice that the white jacket of its old uniform has been removed, and that its torso is covered in stitches. The flesh of each wound is pink and raw around the edges, but it looks like they'll heal. The Arrancar leans forward on the cot where its sitting, large fists resting on its knees. It stares at me beneath furrowed brows and offers a sly smirk.
"What kind of shinigami are you, anyway? I've never seen one like you, let alone fight one. I still gotta figure out where your fuckin' zanpakutou is."
I study the thing for a moment, quietly drumming my fingers over the pack in my pocket. "How would you know that? You can't determine that you've never fought a shinigami like me, because we've never fought before."
"Shut your trap!" the Arrancar snaps, jumping to its feet. It narrows its eyes at me and stalks closer to the barrier between us. "Show me your goddamn zanpakutou!"
My brow arches, however faintly. "I don't know why it's so important to you."
"It's important 'cause shinigami are s'posed to have fuckin' zanpakutous!!" the Arrancar barks back. "If you don't have one, it makes you weak. You're weak, ain'chya? That's why you spend all your time in this shit hole!"
"I spend all of my time here because this is my division," I state simply.
"I don't give two fucks what your division is."
Growling, the thing bares its teeth at me before stalking back to the tiny cot shoved in the corner. It sprawls on the shoddy mattress, showing me its back, its jaw resting on one of those large fists. At this angle I see even more stitched wounds stretching the expanse of its back. And now that I don't have those pale eyes to look at, I find myself staring through its hollow hole.
"What would you have done if they hadn't brought you here?"
The question is out of my mouth before I've even processed it. I'm not sure why I asked the Arrancar such a thing. I don't really care what it would have done. It was an enemy of Soul Society, possibly still is. Not to mention that whatever answer it gives me will be irrelevant, because fact of the matter is that it was brought here.
But the former Espada merely shrugs, digging a finger into its ear as it grunts, "Dunno. I would'a healed, then gone after that stupid orange-haired shinigami. I'll kill that fucker if it's the last thing I do."
At that, I find my brows knitting together. Orange-haired shinigami? Orange-haired shinigami. . . The only person with orange hair that comes to mind is. . . Kurosaki Ichigo. I've never met the kid personally, but everyone in Soul Society has heard his name. Who wouldn't remember one of the intruders that broke into Seireitei to save Kuchiki Rukia from execution?
"You mean Kurosaki Ichigo?" I ask, my eyes still trained on the blue-haired Arrancar. Its head gives a little twitch, and it twists around to look at me over its shoulder.
"You know 'im?"
I shake my head slowly. "Not really. I just know of him."
The former Espada flashes a sinister smirk. "Well, that dumb prick hasn't seen the last of me. When I get outta here I'll find him and settle the score."
"That's to say if you do get out of here."
"Eh."
Waving a hand dismissively, the thing flops onto its back and stretches out. "I think that yellow-toothed freak is runnin' outta things to poke an' prod at. I don't give two fucks about you shinigami, or your dumbass Soul Society, so you either kill me or lemme go."
I can't help myself, I have to arch an eyebrow. I stare at the Arrancar as it lays there, hands tucked behind its head and blue eyes trained on the ceiling. I don't really know how it came to that conclusion. Like Soul Society would really let an ex-Espada free to roam throughout Seireitei, or the Human World. An Arrancar is just as hazardous as a hollow, if not more so.
Exhaling softly, I glance off to the side and pull the pack of smokes from my pocket, unable to resist the urge any longer. I could tell the former Espada that there's really only one outcome it can look forward to: Extermination. But, why burst its bubble? I imagine the Arrancar's had it pretty bad this past month or so, and I think to myself that maybe just this once, I'll let the thing have some hope.
I'm still staring off, lost in my own thoughts as I stick a fresh cigarette between my lips. I let the flame of my lighter lick at the end, then inhale deeply, pulling smoke into my starving lungs. An instant calm washes over me, the feel of nicotine hitting my system so gratifying that I nearly miss Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez getting up. A hand slaps against the glass and I glance sideways so I can see the former Espada. Its staring at me with the same heat and hunger that I saw in its eyes a couple of days ago. I imagine that if it weren't for the red collar around its throat, that its reitasu would be flaring the same way that its eyes are.
"Another thing I'm gonna do when I get outta here," the Arrancar mutters, its voice dangerously low as it eyes my cigarette suggestively. "Just you wait, shinigami. I haven't forgotten."
A lazy smirk pulls at the corner of my mouth. I roll the cigarette between my fingers, before tilting my head. I regard the thing in front of me, note the odd colored hair, the burly build, the hollow hole, the bone jaw. Last of all those seemingly cold looking eyes; the ones that burn like fire.
"I don't think you'd like it, Jaegerjaquez."
Its gaze narrows, and it pushes its fist against the glass like it wants to push straight on through and slug me. I can't really tell if the Arrancar is scowling at me or just grinning evilly, but I've a feeling that with Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, there isn't much of a difference between two.
"That a fuckin' challenge?"
"It's whatever you take it to be."
I flick ash from my cigarette, watch the dark particles hit the glass in front of the Arrancar's face. It gives a quick jerk, its blue eyes widen, and then its lips are pulling back in the mother of all snarls.
"You think you're hot shit right now," the thing hisses. "We'll see how fuckin' strong ya feel when this--" and here it slams a fist into the wall of glass between us, "--isn't there to protect you!!"
Bringing the cigarette back to my mouth, I stare at the former Espada calmly while it rants. I take a deep drag and I don't hesitate to exhale, letting a plume of silver flow from my nose and lips. As I predicted, the thing slows to a standstill, its anger forgotten as it stares. I don't know what its fascination is with smoke, but I can't say it doesn't amuse me.
I offer a small nod in way of goodbye, decide that I'll ignore its threat, before turning around and heading for the door. It's silent behind me until my hand is on the doorknob, and then I hear a growled, "Turn the fuckin' lights off, will ya?"
Pausing with the door halfway open, I take a moment to analyze that request. Then with a mental shrug, I switch the lights off and leave the former Espada alone in darkness.
***
A few more hours go by, and it isn't until late into the evening that I decide I'm due for some rest. I gather my research papers neatly, before tucking them underneath my arm and leaving the Research Institute. The streets of Seireitei are near empty, and the sky above is a dusky aubergine. I take my time strolling through Twelfth on my way to the barracks. When I get to my room I undress in the dark, dig my cigarettes out of my lab coat, then toss my clothes onto the floor before sitting down on my futon.
As I lay back on the mattress, I find myself thinking about the Sexta Espada. I wonder what it does when it's alone at night, trapped in the laboratory. I can't imagine it does much with the little it has. Every time I've gone to observe it, it's been sitting on the cot, still and quiet. It wasn't until I appeared that it came alive. . . The implications there make me frown, and I stick a cigarette between my lips before lighting the end.
It must be a strange existence, being an Arrancar. To be a hollow creature that obtained shinigami powers. To then enter a war under the command of a stranger. And when that war ends, to be taken into custody by the enemy, and locked away to be studied like some alien animal. I'd never really thought about it before, but here in the quiet of my room, with the night's shadows cloaking me, that's where my mind wanders. To the strange existence that is Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Some would think he's fortunate to still be alive, but I wonder if he isn't unlucky. If our positions were reversed, I think I'd envy the other Arrancar that died in battle.
And it's right then that my brain stops all together, and I go completely still on the futon. Did I really refer to the former Espada as a he, just then? Sure, alright, I'll admit that it at least looks like a he. Its appearance is undeniably male, of that there is no doubt. But even still, it is not a he. It isn't like me, or my fellow shinigami, or even like the humans. It's just a thing that was created to do Aizen's bidding.
Sighing to myself tiredly, I turn on my side and reach up to pinch my cigarette between my middle and forefinger. I close my eyes as I draw on it deeply, and when I exhale I exhale loudly, breathing countless things I can't quite name into the air. I grab the ashtray from off the floor and snub the cigarette out, then set the ashtray back down and pull the sheets over my half naked body. I turn my thoughts away from Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, then settle into the futon, hoping for a decent sleep.
***
In the morning, it isn't the sunlight through the shouji that wakes me. It's the feel of something foreign. Something foreign but eerily familiar. Something I recognize, but that doesn't belong in my room. I open my eyes slowly and my vision is blurry with sleep, but I'm still able to make out a shock of blue. I'm laying on my side, and sitting just a few feet away from my futon is Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. I'm so stunned to see the former Espada in my room that I can't even move. I just lay there and stare at his unexpectedly intrusive figure. He's turned at an angle so I can see the side of his face, and that ghost of a hollow mask is staring straight back at me.
I open my mouth to say something. I know what I should say, but for whatever reason, nothing comes out. My breathing is calm, I can feel my heart beating normally, but my mind is reeling. The former Espada sitting beside my futon is so unexpected that I'm still playing catchup.
Because my brain won't function properly -- and because I feel glued to the futon -- I settle for just watching the Arrancar. He's sitting there with legs crossed, my ashtray in front of him, and my pack of smokes in his hand. I watch as he pushes the lid open and pulls out a single cigarette. He rolls it between strong fingers, rolls it like he's assessing it; the feel of it, the look of it. Then he brings it up and drags it under his nose, inhaling as deeply as I do when I'm smoking one. Up until now I've been perfectly still, and despite my surprise at having him here, I've been able to keep my breathing (and my reiatsu) at a level that resembles sleep. But, when the former Espada brings the end of my cigarette to his mouth, his tongue peeking out to touch the tobacco, it's too much. Especially when he makes a weird face and jerks his head away, like he's just been hit with a brick.
It's that expression alone that wrings a chuckle from my otherwise frozen form.
His head whips around as soon as the sound leaves my mouth, blue eyes going incredibly wide. I see nearly every muscle in his body pull tight with tension, suddenly on the alert. In that moment I really have no clue what he's going to do, but it's the least of my worries when I spy something strange. The collar around his throat is gone. My hairless brow shoots up and I swing my legs over the futon so I'm sitting up instead of laying down. At the same time he disappears, and the next moment I see him he's standing in front of the shouji. He stares at me beneath furrowed brows and holds the cigarette up.
"Didn't believe me, did ya?" the Arrancar growls, a smug grin splitting his face in two. "Told you I'd get my hands on one."
I start to get up from the futon, but my body is sluggish from sleep (and from the shock that won't wear off, apparently). I take a step forward but it's already too late. The former Espada slides the screen door open and sunlight floods the room. I squint against the onslaught and I'm able to make out his silhouette, but a second later and he's gone.
Minutes go by as I stand there, staring at the spot where the blue-haired Arrancar just was. My eyes slowly adjust to the light and I don't have to squint anymore. For a moment I believe I'm dreaming, believe it enough that relief starts to settle in, but that's before I feel Hisagi Shuuhei's presence behind me. I glance over my shoulder at the sudden intrusion, and see him standing there with the Sixth's captain: Kuchiki Byakuya. Looks like they came in through the second shouji, opposite the one that Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez used to escape.
"Akon," the younger man murmurs, dark brows knit together in a soft frown. "The Arrancar, he was here."
It sounds like the captain of the Ninth Division doesn't know whether that's a question or a statement, so I nod my head in confirmation. I lift my hand sluggishly and point towards the open shouji door.
"Yeah, but. . .it just left. With one of my cigarettes, too."
Hisagi gives a minute nod, before he and Kuchiki-taichou disappear in the direction that Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez went.
Chapter Three →
Pairing: Akon x Grimmjow
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, I only steal its characters so I can go on perverted conquests via fan fics. Also, all characters involved in sexual situations are fictional and above the legal age of consent in the state of California, regardless of what age these characters may be in the material they are derived from.
A/N: My experimental one-shot with Akon and Grimm decided to turn itself into a multi-chapter fic. I'm really starting to fall for this pairing hard. Hopefully other people fall too. :D
← Chapter One
Two days have passed since I last saw the Arrancar known as Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. In those two days the thing has undergone countless experiments and tests. I'm assuming that during its first week here, Kurotsuchi-taichou spent most of his time studying the other "spoils of war" from Hueco Mundo. What little experiments had been done on the former Espada in that first week, were now heightened tenfold.
I wasn't around for most of them; my captain likes it better when he can oversee those proceedings on his own. And by "on his own," I mean with Kurotsuchi Nemu trailing his side. It really doesn't bother me any and I've been able to do my own work in relative peace. There is however a howl every now and then; a roar, a bark of unrestrained laughter. That last sound has a small smirk tugging at my lips, despite myself.
I don't really know what Kurotsuchi-taichou's been doing to the Arrancar. Naturally, I'm curious. Curious about what studies have been conducted, and how the former Espada has performed. Or if it has at all, the thing seems pretty stubborn. I imagine it gives my captain a good run for his money. And judging by the noises I hear every thirty minutes, the thing has yet to be beaten into submission. Kurotsuchi Mayuri has a cruel way about him, especially when it comes to observing his specimens, so it's pretty impressive that Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez is still able to laugh.
Leaning back in my chair, I fight down a yawn and reach over to tap my cigarette over a small ashtray. While contemplating taking a break from my research, I hear faint voices coming from the hallway outside. I remain silent as I listen, soon realizing that it's both the captain and vice-captain. I can't tell what they're saying, but I know it's them, and every now and then I hear an uttered "Espada." When their voices grow distant, to the point that they fade completely, I snub my cigarette and get up. Walking to the door I slide it open quietly, before sticking my head into an empty hallway. For a minute I wait, considering the situation, briefly wondering where they went. Then before I know it, I'm closing the door behind me and making my way towards the research room where Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez is being held.
This time I don't have to switch on the lights. That glow at the back of the room is already burning brightly. The Arrancar looks in my direction when I enter the room, and I hear it growl lowly, the sound coming from somewhere deep in its throat. I tuck my hands inside of my lab coat as I near the pane of glass, and I can't help but finger the pack of smokes resting in the pocket.
"I didn't expect ya back so soon," the former Espada mutters. Its characteristic grin creeps into view. "Miss me?"
"Not precisely," I respond, tilting my head just a little. "I was wondering what all the noise was about."
Eyeing the creature before me, I notice that the white jacket of its old uniform has been removed, and that its torso is covered in stitches. The flesh of each wound is pink and raw around the edges, but it looks like they'll heal. The Arrancar leans forward on the cot where its sitting, large fists resting on its knees. It stares at me beneath furrowed brows and offers a sly smirk.
"What kind of shinigami are you, anyway? I've never seen one like you, let alone fight one. I still gotta figure out where your fuckin' zanpakutou is."
I study the thing for a moment, quietly drumming my fingers over the pack in my pocket. "How would you know that? You can't determine that you've never fought a shinigami like me, because we've never fought before."
"Shut your trap!" the Arrancar snaps, jumping to its feet. It narrows its eyes at me and stalks closer to the barrier between us. "Show me your goddamn zanpakutou!"
My brow arches, however faintly. "I don't know why it's so important to you."
"It's important 'cause shinigami are s'posed to have fuckin' zanpakutous!!" the Arrancar barks back. "If you don't have one, it makes you weak. You're weak, ain'chya? That's why you spend all your time in this shit hole!"
"I spend all of my time here because this is my division," I state simply.
"I don't give two fucks what your division is."
Growling, the thing bares its teeth at me before stalking back to the tiny cot shoved in the corner. It sprawls on the shoddy mattress, showing me its back, its jaw resting on one of those large fists. At this angle I see even more stitched wounds stretching the expanse of its back. And now that I don't have those pale eyes to look at, I find myself staring through its hollow hole.
"What would you have done if they hadn't brought you here?"
The question is out of my mouth before I've even processed it. I'm not sure why I asked the Arrancar such a thing. I don't really care what it would have done. It was an enemy of Soul Society, possibly still is. Not to mention that whatever answer it gives me will be irrelevant, because fact of the matter is that it was brought here.
But the former Espada merely shrugs, digging a finger into its ear as it grunts, "Dunno. I would'a healed, then gone after that stupid orange-haired shinigami. I'll kill that fucker if it's the last thing I do."
At that, I find my brows knitting together. Orange-haired shinigami? Orange-haired shinigami. . . The only person with orange hair that comes to mind is. . . Kurosaki Ichigo. I've never met the kid personally, but everyone in Soul Society has heard his name. Who wouldn't remember one of the intruders that broke into Seireitei to save Kuchiki Rukia from execution?
"You mean Kurosaki Ichigo?" I ask, my eyes still trained on the blue-haired Arrancar. Its head gives a little twitch, and it twists around to look at me over its shoulder.
"You know 'im?"
I shake my head slowly. "Not really. I just know of him."
The former Espada flashes a sinister smirk. "Well, that dumb prick hasn't seen the last of me. When I get outta here I'll find him and settle the score."
"That's to say if you do get out of here."
"Eh."
Waving a hand dismissively, the thing flops onto its back and stretches out. "I think that yellow-toothed freak is runnin' outta things to poke an' prod at. I don't give two fucks about you shinigami, or your dumbass Soul Society, so you either kill me or lemme go."
I can't help myself, I have to arch an eyebrow. I stare at the Arrancar as it lays there, hands tucked behind its head and blue eyes trained on the ceiling. I don't really know how it came to that conclusion. Like Soul Society would really let an ex-Espada free to roam throughout Seireitei, or the Human World. An Arrancar is just as hazardous as a hollow, if not more so.
Exhaling softly, I glance off to the side and pull the pack of smokes from my pocket, unable to resist the urge any longer. I could tell the former Espada that there's really only one outcome it can look forward to: Extermination. But, why burst its bubble? I imagine the Arrancar's had it pretty bad this past month or so, and I think to myself that maybe just this once, I'll let the thing have some hope.
I'm still staring off, lost in my own thoughts as I stick a fresh cigarette between my lips. I let the flame of my lighter lick at the end, then inhale deeply, pulling smoke into my starving lungs. An instant calm washes over me, the feel of nicotine hitting my system so gratifying that I nearly miss Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez getting up. A hand slaps against the glass and I glance sideways so I can see the former Espada. Its staring at me with the same heat and hunger that I saw in its eyes a couple of days ago. I imagine that if it weren't for the red collar around its throat, that its reitasu would be flaring the same way that its eyes are.
"Another thing I'm gonna do when I get outta here," the Arrancar mutters, its voice dangerously low as it eyes my cigarette suggestively. "Just you wait, shinigami. I haven't forgotten."
A lazy smirk pulls at the corner of my mouth. I roll the cigarette between my fingers, before tilting my head. I regard the thing in front of me, note the odd colored hair, the burly build, the hollow hole, the bone jaw. Last of all those seemingly cold looking eyes; the ones that burn like fire.
"I don't think you'd like it, Jaegerjaquez."
Its gaze narrows, and it pushes its fist against the glass like it wants to push straight on through and slug me. I can't really tell if the Arrancar is scowling at me or just grinning evilly, but I've a feeling that with Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, there isn't much of a difference between two.
"That a fuckin' challenge?"
"It's whatever you take it to be."
I flick ash from my cigarette, watch the dark particles hit the glass in front of the Arrancar's face. It gives a quick jerk, its blue eyes widen, and then its lips are pulling back in the mother of all snarls.
"You think you're hot shit right now," the thing hisses. "We'll see how fuckin' strong ya feel when this--" and here it slams a fist into the wall of glass between us, "--isn't there to protect you!!"
Bringing the cigarette back to my mouth, I stare at the former Espada calmly while it rants. I take a deep drag and I don't hesitate to exhale, letting a plume of silver flow from my nose and lips. As I predicted, the thing slows to a standstill, its anger forgotten as it stares. I don't know what its fascination is with smoke, but I can't say it doesn't amuse me.
I offer a small nod in way of goodbye, decide that I'll ignore its threat, before turning around and heading for the door. It's silent behind me until my hand is on the doorknob, and then I hear a growled, "Turn the fuckin' lights off, will ya?"
Pausing with the door halfway open, I take a moment to analyze that request. Then with a mental shrug, I switch the lights off and leave the former Espada alone in darkness.
***
A few more hours go by, and it isn't until late into the evening that I decide I'm due for some rest. I gather my research papers neatly, before tucking them underneath my arm and leaving the Research Institute. The streets of Seireitei are near empty, and the sky above is a dusky aubergine. I take my time strolling through Twelfth on my way to the barracks. When I get to my room I undress in the dark, dig my cigarettes out of my lab coat, then toss my clothes onto the floor before sitting down on my futon.
As I lay back on the mattress, I find myself thinking about the Sexta Espada. I wonder what it does when it's alone at night, trapped in the laboratory. I can't imagine it does much with the little it has. Every time I've gone to observe it, it's been sitting on the cot, still and quiet. It wasn't until I appeared that it came alive. . . The implications there make me frown, and I stick a cigarette between my lips before lighting the end.
It must be a strange existence, being an Arrancar. To be a hollow creature that obtained shinigami powers. To then enter a war under the command of a stranger. And when that war ends, to be taken into custody by the enemy, and locked away to be studied like some alien animal. I'd never really thought about it before, but here in the quiet of my room, with the night's shadows cloaking me, that's where my mind wanders. To the strange existence that is Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Some would think he's fortunate to still be alive, but I wonder if he isn't unlucky. If our positions were reversed, I think I'd envy the other Arrancar that died in battle.
And it's right then that my brain stops all together, and I go completely still on the futon. Did I really refer to the former Espada as a he, just then? Sure, alright, I'll admit that it at least looks like a he. Its appearance is undeniably male, of that there is no doubt. But even still, it is not a he. It isn't like me, or my fellow shinigami, or even like the humans. It's just a thing that was created to do Aizen's bidding.
Sighing to myself tiredly, I turn on my side and reach up to pinch my cigarette between my middle and forefinger. I close my eyes as I draw on it deeply, and when I exhale I exhale loudly, breathing countless things I can't quite name into the air. I grab the ashtray from off the floor and snub the cigarette out, then set the ashtray back down and pull the sheets over my half naked body. I turn my thoughts away from Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, then settle into the futon, hoping for a decent sleep.
***
In the morning, it isn't the sunlight through the shouji that wakes me. It's the feel of something foreign. Something foreign but eerily familiar. Something I recognize, but that doesn't belong in my room. I open my eyes slowly and my vision is blurry with sleep, but I'm still able to make out a shock of blue. I'm laying on my side, and sitting just a few feet away from my futon is Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. I'm so stunned to see the former Espada in my room that I can't even move. I just lay there and stare at his unexpectedly intrusive figure. He's turned at an angle so I can see the side of his face, and that ghost of a hollow mask is staring straight back at me.
I open my mouth to say something. I know what I should say, but for whatever reason, nothing comes out. My breathing is calm, I can feel my heart beating normally, but my mind is reeling. The former Espada sitting beside my futon is so unexpected that I'm still playing catchup.
Because my brain won't function properly -- and because I feel glued to the futon -- I settle for just watching the Arrancar. He's sitting there with legs crossed, my ashtray in front of him, and my pack of smokes in his hand. I watch as he pushes the lid open and pulls out a single cigarette. He rolls it between strong fingers, rolls it like he's assessing it; the feel of it, the look of it. Then he brings it up and drags it under his nose, inhaling as deeply as I do when I'm smoking one. Up until now I've been perfectly still, and despite my surprise at having him here, I've been able to keep my breathing (and my reiatsu) at a level that resembles sleep. But, when the former Espada brings the end of my cigarette to his mouth, his tongue peeking out to touch the tobacco, it's too much. Especially when he makes a weird face and jerks his head away, like he's just been hit with a brick.
It's that expression alone that wrings a chuckle from my otherwise frozen form.
His head whips around as soon as the sound leaves my mouth, blue eyes going incredibly wide. I see nearly every muscle in his body pull tight with tension, suddenly on the alert. In that moment I really have no clue what he's going to do, but it's the least of my worries when I spy something strange. The collar around his throat is gone. My hairless brow shoots up and I swing my legs over the futon so I'm sitting up instead of laying down. At the same time he disappears, and the next moment I see him he's standing in front of the shouji. He stares at me beneath furrowed brows and holds the cigarette up.
"Didn't believe me, did ya?" the Arrancar growls, a smug grin splitting his face in two. "Told you I'd get my hands on one."
I start to get up from the futon, but my body is sluggish from sleep (and from the shock that won't wear off, apparently). I take a step forward but it's already too late. The former Espada slides the screen door open and sunlight floods the room. I squint against the onslaught and I'm able to make out his silhouette, but a second later and he's gone.
Minutes go by as I stand there, staring at the spot where the blue-haired Arrancar just was. My eyes slowly adjust to the light and I don't have to squint anymore. For a moment I believe I'm dreaming, believe it enough that relief starts to settle in, but that's before I feel Hisagi Shuuhei's presence behind me. I glance over my shoulder at the sudden intrusion, and see him standing there with the Sixth's captain: Kuchiki Byakuya. Looks like they came in through the second shouji, opposite the one that Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez used to escape.
"Akon," the younger man murmurs, dark brows knit together in a soft frown. "The Arrancar, he was here."
It sounds like the captain of the Ninth Division doesn't know whether that's a question or a statement, so I nod my head in confirmation. I lift my hand sluggishly and point towards the open shouji door.
"Yeah, but. . .it just left. With one of my cigarettes, too."
Hisagi gives a minute nod, before he and Kuchiki-taichou disappear in the direction that Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez went.
Chapter Three →