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tampered2007-02-03 08:55 pm
hajikemomo.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-02-03 08:55 pm
Log; complete
When; Feburary 3rd, morning
Rating; pg 15-ish
Characters; Hinamori Momo [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hajikemomo] Grimmjow Jaggerjack [6thsword] Zaera-Polo [unresearched]
Summary; Sap, music, angst, a fight. A normal day~
To accompany; Frou Frou - Let Go
The Fray - Look After You
Log;
The tick-tocking slowly subsided as Hinamori closed her eyes, sinking further into the connection with Tobiume. The bench was no tree limb, but she was restless and didn't want to get distracted by monsters, so the forest was out as her normal place to sit and just talk with her zanpakuto. Something she hadn't done since her three day training session anyway and had been able to do yesterday because of the curse. So Xanadu seemed as good a place as any. And the bench was better than a tree branch.
Less worry of falling to the ground from several feet up, for starters.
Keeping the blade sheathed she lay it down beside her, leaning back and watching the clouds move across the sky above her. We're stronger, Tobiume. Is it enough? The comforting murmur in the back of her mind brought a smile to her face as she shut her eyes, enjoying the relative solitude and quiet of the gardens. It was still early in the day. Just don't leave me to think by myself.
The sprites response broadened the smile and lacing her fingers the dark haired girl stretched contentedly before freezing, senses, though distracted by her zanpakuto, still very alert to any change in the reiatsu surrounding her. And this was a change she'd hoped to avoid. Dropping her hands back to her lap, she opened brown eyes questioningly, "Grimmjow."
He stood behind her, behind the bench, not concerned with repressing his reiatsu since he wasn't there to sneak up and kill her, but for... other reasons. He leaned down to better see her face, hands behind his back.
"Yo," he greeted quietly, averting his gaze to the side when he remembered exactly how she'd reacted to him the other day. Okay, so he'd been a prissy, uptight gentleman, and that was worth laughing -- smiling? -- at any day, but she'd been affected too, and the meaning behind her words was less than comforting.
Clearing his throat, the arrancar handed her a round device, a CD player (of all things) from above. He kept his eyes averted. "Here. Put it on."
She frowned gently but complied, freeing it from his hands. She knew what it was, at least, time spent in the Living World put to good use, but she was still hesitant and her gaze slipped to the zanpakuto at her side, reassuring herself with the reminder of her constant companion.
Fiddling with the headphones she tilted her head slightly, speaking softly, "If I ask why, am I going to get an answer?"
Slowly, keeping his other hand hidden behind his back, he walked around the bench to stand in front of Hinamori and slightly to the side. He sat next to her, a little awkwardly, and kept his eyes focused anywhere but her face.
"Because I'm asking you?" he finally responded, glancing up at her confused expression. He knew that wasn't the best answer, but he didn't really know what else to say to make her put the headphones on. It was worth a shot.
She'd said before there was no point in ignoring him, and really, what harm could a CD player do? Besides, if he was trying to distract her for any reason, Isane should be around. And Tobiume was right there. With a somewhat disgruntled sounding, "Fine" Hinamori slipped the headphones on, choosing to keep her gaze down.
He reached out and pressed the play button for her, waited a few seconds, and when he decided the music had started, he withdrew his other hand from behind his back. A fresh bouquet of white Lily of the Valley blossoms, stems wrapped in soft plastic, were grasped lightly between his fingers. He held them out to her, carefully watching her reaction as if the wrong word or movement would upset the moment.
"For you," he said, loud enough so she could hear him over the soft notes of the song.
The Espada never ceased to amaze her. She didn't move, torn between laughing at the absurdity of an arrancar holding flowers or leaving. Or accepting the flowers. Although how that was even an option, she did not know, only dimly aware of the fact that Tobiume had chosen to laugh as she stared at the blossoms, utter confusion on her face.
The song was not helping.
The silence was too long. He should've expected that, of course, considering how ridiculous the situation was. He wouldn't have even considered it at all, if it weren't for Ulquiorra commenting on flowers and a cursed Noitora pondering giving some to Cirucci. Sighing very slightly, he rested the bouquet on her lap, leaned in for a brief and bittersweet kiss, then stood and turned away.
"See ya." He wondered vaguely if he should give her a more formal goodbye. Instead, he picked up his feet and began to walk away, hands in pockets, lips twisting into a painful grimace.
"Wait." She was irritated now, irritated that he felt he could just hand over flowers without an explanation, that he felt he could get away with saying next to nothing, steal a kiss, and then just walk away, that he was just walking away. Wasn't he trying to prove he was sorry with this? If that was so...
It wasn't like she hadn't forgiven him, anyway. Why he felt he still needed to make it up to her, she couldn't say. But she wanted a reason. Or reasons. Whatever it took, she wanted to understand why, and how, of all things, he'd known to bring Lily of the Valley. "Wait." It was in no way forceful but hardly pleading, either. Slipping the headphones off and placing the blossoms to the side, Hinamori stood, watching the Espada with a look that betrayed her confusion and irritation.
He stopped at her first command but kept his back turned to her. At her second, he heard her shift, and at first he thought that maybe he should turn around with a look of bored indifference. But no, perhaps his current expression would prove something to her.
So he turned, fists clenched to stop from trembling with frustration -- at himself, at her, at everyone -- and face contorted into one of pain. Mild, of course. Nothing like the pain he was feeling inside, but enough to show her that being there, in her presence and under these circumstances, hurt too much.
"What?" The word came out harsher than he'd wanted.
She winced, bringing a hand up to rest against her chest - against her heart, the silly, foolish thing, feeling like it would rather stop beating again - wondering if she should move forward or sit down. "...why." One step forward. "Why, why flowers, why Lily of the Valley, why a song, why... why me?"
He opened his mouth slightly to say something, closed it, and only stared while he turned these questions over in his mind. He had to phrase his answers just right.
"I don't know anything about love," he said frankly, averting his gaze again to a square of space right above her shoulder. "I don't know anything about feeling it, expressing it... I heard you give flowers to the person you love. Girls like roses, they say. But it's more meaningful when it's a flower important to you, right?"
His eyes returned to meet hers. "And you, because you're Momo, because you're important to me. I like it when you're happy, but it hurts when you're sad. You've been so sad lately. I want to make you happy again." He sounded like an awkward human boy just hitting puberty. Worse than Wonderwyce, even.
Thinking was not making things any better. Thinking was... adding to the pounding in her head, making her question herself, making her wonder what she'd done and could have done instead. Thinking was simply too much. Hinamori glanced at the blossoms again, biting back the urge to sigh as she glanced back at him, at the distance between them. Make her happy? "Idiot."
She closed her eyes - sighed this time, softly - moved as if to sit down but instead let her shunpyo cross the few feet separating them, landing right in front of the arrancar, gaze settled on the ground. "I'm not sad."
Grimmjow blinked in surprise, not at her shunpyo, but at her decision to stand so close to him. His expression softened, though his brow still creased with hurt and now concern. Tentatively, he reached out and brushed a lock of hair from in front of her eyes.
"Then why," he murmured, "do you always look sad whenever I see you?" He let his hand fall to his side, not sure what else to do. Hugging her seemed wrong, standing still seemed wrong, turning away seemed wrong.
She glanced up warily, bit her lower lip as she thought over what she wouldn't mind mentioning. The answer was not much, but something of an answer was needed, and so something of an answer she'd give.
"Because I've accepted what I am now, and it's not an easy thing to carry. But I will because I wanted this." That said she dropped her gaze again, turning slightly in the direction of the bench where Tobiume rested.
He regarded her with a tilt of his head. That surely wasn't the only thing on her mind, was it? "Yeah, right." He placed a hand on her cheek, then leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "It hurts you," he whispered into her hair. "It'll hurt you for a long time afterward."
Hinamori pulled away fully, eyes fixed on her blade. "I knew the consequences when I agreed to it. It hurts less than betrayal, anyway." She hadn't expected him to be satisfied with her answer but had hoped it would be enough. She really didn't feel up to talking about everything, not now while her head still spun, her hands still shook slightly if she didn't pay attention to them.
He suppressed a sigh this time, straightened, noted the slightest quiver of her hands. He didn't pretend to know what was going on through her head except that it hurt all over and he wasn't helping. He wanted to leave, to go vent more anger on witless animals, to do anything except be here and watch her crumble to pieces in front of him. And yet curiosity kept him rooted to the spot.
"Did I betray you?"
That caught her off guard and she started, staring at him for a moment with a mixture of shock and confusion. Had he?
"I've betrayed others. And been betrayed..." Trailing off, the vice captain shrugged, turning her attention back to the currently silent blade. "You have, but not in the same way." Having to listen to Cirucci's prideful boasts were nothing on the shock and subsequent pain of being stabbed by her ex-captain, but the dull ache was something she could do without.
He watched as she went through the reactions: shock, despair, hurt. Then he too lowered his gaze. Yes, he'd betrayed her, in more ways than one most likely, and there was little he could do about it except apologize -- which she didn't want from him -- and remember not to do it again.
"Guess I have a lot to make up." He allowed a sigh this time.
She wanted to say it didn't matter, but it did, and she wanted to say he didn't have to, but he would anyway. Or at least try. "We can be friends," she offered, knowing full well it wasn't what he wanted at all, knowing if anything it would only irritate him. It hadn't really worked the last time she'd offered, after all.
Friends. Was that it? After all he'd worked for, after all he'd sacrificed, they could be friends? There was no point. They were enemies and lovers, nothing in between. It wasn't right, fair, expected, important enough, all those words that could be right but were probably wrong.
He turned away this time, wanting more than anything to hide his disappointment. "We might as well be enemies."
At least last time he'd accepted it and tried. This...
Hinamori turned to face him - his back - glaring despite herself. But she couldn't bring herself to say anything, and instead moved back to the bench, to Tobiume. Staring at the flowers. She had no idea why but -
"Do you want to see it that badly?"
At that question, he turned around again, this time with slight alarm and confusion coloring his face. "You'll show me?"
Why the sudden change of mind? Why the offer to be friends, but nothing else? Why this City, why these emotions, why everything? A part of him wanted to go back to being cruel and careless, but he knew very well that nothing could bring him back to that or any other part of his past.
He approached the bench, stopping in front of her, looking down. "Show me."
"Then fight me." She evaded his gaze, hand straying to rest on Tobiume's hilt and rest there, some form of home. "Make me need to use it. Prove to me that you can be my enemy."
There was a long silence after her challenge, filled with first shock then confusion then terrible indecision. He kept his eyes on her, on how she refused to look back at him, on how her hand rested on her zanpakutou, on the discarded white petals.
Very slowly, as if gravity felt the need to pull at every fiber in his body, Grimmjow moved his hand to grip the hilt of his own sword. "Fine." His voice cracked. A sonido brought him backwards a few feet, his blade hissing as it left its sheath. "If that's how it has to be, then fine."
Mournfully, a tiny bell chimed.
Rest turned to tight grip, whispering an apology softly - for Tobiume, herself, him - and the zanpakuto was pulled free, hanging dangerously at her side. She hadn't expected him to accept so readily, to fight now, but then again she was always unable to grasp the full extent of Grimmjow's impatience. Shrugging off the guard on her reiatsu the vice captain turned back, slowly.
Shunpyo kicked in then and Tobiume came up as she attempted to force him back.
He parried her blow, easily, and pushed the blade aside. His own sword came down at her arm, a feint; he twisted at the last moment to slice at her throat.
All with a straight face. No thrill and no joy.
She refused to need the mask so soon. Zaera-Polo might have been playing with her, testing her abilities, but she had bested him. Thinking in those terms it was easy enough to bring Tobiume back up, sliding along the length of his blade as she sprung back, hitting dirt as she ducked down low to avoid the zanpakuto completely, free hand balancing her as she crouched.
So it would be like that.
She backed up and he lunged forward with a sonido, hoping the suddenness would catch her off guard, zanpakutou aimed for a clean slice at her ribcage. He wanted to hold back, turn away, or leave, but no; he said he'd fight and kill her one day. This would test his word.
It grazed as she twisted to the side with a small gasp, bringing Tobiume forward to prevent it from being anything more than a shallow cut, forcing the blade off of her. She refused the screaming in her mind, the urge to just let it out and unleash her darker side, the want to do nothing more than hurt and inflict pain. Refused to appease the Espada so simply.
She countered with an upwards swing.
Steel rang as he blocked, and it took all of Grimmjow's willpower not to flinch at the memory of that long-passed curse day.
"Show me!" he snarled, pushing against Tobiume with his zanpakutou. But somewhere in the back of his mind he wished she wouldn't, so he wouldn't have to watch her innocence shatter in the wake of a Hollow's darkness.
This she could handle, this she was capable of. "Make me," she shot back, keeping Tobiume pushed against him, refusing, always refusing, not moving an inch as blade fought against blade. "I see no reasons to use it yet, Espada."
His eyes flashed at the cold title. So be it. "Then I'll give you one." He tipped his zanpakutou down, pushing Tobiume with it and keeping her there, opening a space between him and Hinamori. He raised his free hand, a cero gathering in the palm.
Sorry.
A smirk and the Espada kicked forward, unsheathed zanpakuto at Grimmjows throat as his free arm wrapped around the vice captains neck and pulled her back to him roughly. "I think you should stop there," he muttered calmly, eyes never leaving the Sexta Espada and grip tightening, almost cutting off Hinamori's ability to breathe.
"Lower your zanpakutos."
"Zaera-Polo!" Grimmjow snarled, lips twisting into a sneer at the pink-haired arrancar. Nevertheless, he redirected his cero to the sky and released the pressure on Tobiume. His gaze flicked over to Zaera-Polo's grip on Hinamori's neck.
He smiled that smile as Hinamori followed suit, Tobiume hanging at her side and gaze downcast, expression unreadable. "I am only doing as I was ordered, Grimmjow." Zaera-Polo released his grip on the girls throat, grabbing the hand she'd started to raise to her face.
"I don't think so, vice captain." Her anger only made the smile wider and he pushed the shinigami to the ground before sheathing his zanpakuto, eyes still on the other arrancar.
Grimmjow forced himself between Zaera-Polo and the downed Hinamori, nothing but hatred seething from his teal eyes. The grip on his zanpakutou tightened, though he didn't raise the sword from his side. Instead, he snatched the white collar with his other hand with the full intention of pushing away the other Espada.
"Get the fuck out of here," he snapped, tone dangerous.
"That would go against my orders," he returned, smile settling into apathy. "You're not meant to kill the broken toy." Not yet, anyway. Not when he hadn't had his fun, not when she was so much more useful alive.
The girl in question stood, Tobiume loose in hand and looking at anything but the two Espada. "Shut up."
A quick glance at her, then Grimmjow's attention was back on Zaera-Polo. His fingers tightened around the other's uniform. "I wasn't going to kill her. And I ain't leaving till you do."
"I said shut up." She glared, surprisingly angry as she forced her reiatsu down, submissive but anything other than weak. "I don't care what orders you have but you have no right to interrupt. And you." Hinamori pulled Tobiume closer, tighter. "Don't say we're enemies if you're not going to. Don't say you want to see it if you won't kill me."
Something in him snapped.
Hissing, sneer evaporating, he let go of Zaera-Polo and instead faced Hinamori, stood right in front of her, grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. He wasn't sure if it was to show her how broken he was, or if it was to hide from the other arrancar. He couldn't quite remember another time he'd been so crushed, except once when he'd held Hinamori's lifeless body.
He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he couldn't think of anything worthwhile to say. So, brow knit together in fury, he sheathed his zanpakutou, ripped the bell off the hilt, snatched her hand, and pressed the small object into her palm.
"Keep your fucking bell," he whispered, pushing her fist against her chest where her heart was before turning away from both of them, hands in pockets, head bowed.
Tobiume, bell, Hinamori dropped, hitting dirt, breathing hard. Not breathing. Something.
A scream and both hands flew to her face, eyes closed tight as she fought against the thing trying to take control of her in her moment of weakness. Manifested, Tobiume sought to comfort her now crying wielder, tried to pull the hands away and look her in the eye but she resisted the zanpakutos gentle touch, rejected her companion.
Zaera-Polo watched, calmly, hand on zanpakuto just in case as he watched the shinigami start to lose control. He waited on Grimmjow to react, if he did at all, waited for the other to move either to her aid or to abandon her. The smug smile was coming back slowly, not deterred as she screamed again.
It was rather nice, hearing that.
Grimmjow didn't move, didn't blink, just stood where he was with back turned as she fell and screamed the first time. Reaction was a victory for Zaera-Polo either way, so he had to settle for the lesser evil, the lesser pain. To help her meant suffering the wrath of his comrades and creator, maybe even her own wrath, but to leave her meant suffering his own unforgiving wrath upon himself.
She screamed again, and Grimmjow shot Zaera-Polo a death glare as he turned and stalked back to Hinamori. He knelt in front of her, pushed aside Tobiume, grabbed the shinigami's wrists and forced her hands from her face. Fingers ran through her hair, wiped away tears, his subdued calls of her name accompanying them as he sought to quiet her.
Golden eyes greeted him as she glared tearfully, fought against his comfort, snarled, fists clenched and nails digging in, drawing blood. Seething anger and hatred and a desire to rend.
Zaera-Polo remembered that look and sneered, turning away slightly. "She's a traitor to herself. She doesn't want you, Grimmjow. Would you turn from us for her?" His grip tightened dangerously on his blade as he waited for the other Espada to reply.
There it was. The inborn hate of every Hollow.
"I know she doesn't want me," he replied, not looking back as he addressed Zaera-Polo as he fought Hinamori's resistance. "But she needs me, even if she doesn't want to." He left his answer to the question unspoken, instead catching the shinigami's lips in a kiss, his hands tightening around her wrists to keep her rooted to the spot.
I'm sorry. No apology could right his wrongs, but that didn't stop him. I'm sorry. Really sorry.
He wouldn't draw away, not till she calmed down, not till she was safe from herself.
Her snarl was dangerous as she tried to pull back, to free her hands and take the blade again, to pull the mask on properly, to snap and break and tear and rend. But she was unable to do anything but snarl and whimper against him, unable to fully give in to the rage within her, part of her wanting instead to give into this. Inner and outer she struggled, attempting to subdue her mind and withdraw the hollow, to return the affection and tear the Espada apart.
She had questions, so many of them, most starting with why, most with answers she knew he wouldn't, couldn't give.
With a low growl she forced her left hand forward, finding his shoulder, fingers digging in as she attempted to push against him, push him back. Giving in to anything was too much.
Answer gained, Zaera-Polo relaxed, formulating a new plan as he watched the shinigami struggling against his brother. It was tempting to attack there and then, to take them both down but... No. He'd have to talk with some before he moved. Emotions. Nothing but trouble, incomprehensible and irritating.
He barely noticed her grip on his shoulder, responding in kind with a firmer hold on her wrist. He pushed forward against the ground, against her, breaking contact ever so slightly to draw breath.
Was it working? He didn't know, wouldn't know, not unless she reverted back to normal. But it was better than breaking her under sword and spell.
"Snap out of it," he hissed, kissing her again, briefly this time, still very aware of Zaera-Polo's presence at his back. He glared at the other Espada again, eyes burning, as he pulled Hinamori's quivering frame against his chest.
The snarl subsided into a whimper, into a confused sob and she was torn between clinging to him and pulling away, between crying against him or tearing him apart, between self and hollow, confused, pained, creature not releasing its hold on mind and shoulder, digging in deeper. Too many options, too many ways out and not one of them lessening the pressure in her head.
Hinamori sobbed again, tried to pull back, to sit up on her own, murmuring quietly to herself, to the arrancar, to Tobiume, to the hollow, unintelligible words that made no sense to her either as she settled her gaze on the zanpakuto just out of reach, as torn as the rest of her with one eye still gleaming dangerously.
Patience. He was never good at it, but he needed it now more than ever. The Hollow was slowly releasing its hold on her, and all she needed was another push towards sanity.
Grimmjow stood, pulling her up with him, supporting her with one arm around her shoulders. He shifted his hand up to hers and forcefully dislodged her grip on his shoulder. Whether the Hollow would try again was up to Hinamori herself, if she would let it control her body against her will in that way. His gaze flicked around the area, noting the flowers, her dropped zanpakutou, the bell, Zaera-Polo a good distance away.
He coaxed her in the direction of the bench.
She couldn't, wouldn't, didn't want to move. Not away from Tobiume, not away from the only thing she'd leave herself. But her head was pounding, her heart was racing, it was hard to breathe and think and exist and see and live and feel and do anything. She tried to turn, stumbled, trying to free herself and return to the zanpakuto.
He'd seen enough and with a sneer in Grimmjow's direction the other Espada disappeared.
Grimmjow let her go, let her fumble for Tobiume, knowing the connection she had with her zanpakutou and yet not knowing. He focused for a moment on the patch of dirt where Zaera-Polo had stood a moment before, knowing that the moment he'd turned to comfort Hinamori's anguish, he'd made the choice. He wouldn't be able to go back to the others or Aizen.
Sighing, the Sexta Espada turned and retreated to the bench, sitting down heavily beside the forgotten bouquet.
She sat still for a moment, Tobiume tight in hand, letting the blade reassure and remind her of who she was. Forcing herself back to her feet, unable to sheath Tobiume for the time being, she grabbed the bell as she straightened, expression blank as the dark haired girl faced Grimmjow.
She wanted to ask why, always why, why friends wasn't enough, why he'd turn on her one second and then comfort the next. Why it had even managed to subdue the hollow when Hirako and Urahara combined had only been enough to hold her at bay until she regained herself.
But she knew the answer.
With an angry snarl she threw the bell at his head, an irritated "idiot" following it.
He caught the bell before it could hit him, then slowly lowered and opened his hand to stare at it. He wondered if she'd forgive him now, truly forgive him, and if he'd just fucked himself over if she would not.
"Sorry," he finally said after some time, moving to tie the bell to the hilt of his zanpakutou again. He found he was always apologizing to her now for the same reason every time. It was stupid and annoying to them both, but he wasn't about to stop. Not yet.
Grimmjow stood, picked up the flowers, and walked over to her. Keeping his eyes on hers, he thrust the blossoms into her arms. "I know I'm an idiot." Quietly now. Sorrowfully. "And I know you don't like apologies. I tried, but nothing works." He shrugged. "Looks like I've fucked up."
How on earth she'd ever managed to put with the Espada - let alone let herself fall in love with him - was beyond her. She wished that the bell had hit him, but her anger was fast disappearing as she was confronted with him and his feelings, being replaced by something she couldn't put a name to.
"You're an idiot. A selfish, irritating, foolish idiot." No malevolence behind the words. Just words. "And I don't care. I'm sorry all I can offer isn't enough, and I'm, thank you for the flowers but you're an idiot."
She sighed, moved past him, reclaiming her sheath and tying it to her side. "What are you supposed to do if you're a traitor too?"
"I know."
He let her walk past him, and he tilted his face to the sky. So blue, a betrayal to the winter and to the day, and for reasons unknown his face split into a grin. It was stupid, it was selfish, pointless, infuriating, and so many other words, but he could only smile at his broken state. There'd be no pity for this fool.
He had no real answer to her question. Zaera-Polo would report to Aizen, the others would find out, he'd be hunted like the rest of them. No pact could keep him safe. He had no purpose now, so his existence was meaningless. "I'll die, I guess."
"At least I planned mine." Tobiume slid home, softly murmuring in the back of her mind as a comfort against the other thing now residing there. It was tempting to throw the CD player at him too, but she picked it up gently, balancing it with the flowers as she turned back to him.
"You're being surprisingly defeatist."
He let his gaze fall from the sky to where she stood a few feet away, still smiling somewhat. Yes, defeated. Not because he'd be labeled as defective by Aizen, not because he'd failed his purpose, but because she had tried to give him all she could and he'd rejected it.
He shrugged again. "Let me hurt, okay? It'll take me a while to get back up from the bottom, especially with Aizen ready to crush me any minute now."
Oh, he was irritating her, acting like a child and smiling and talking about death like it was nothing. She let shunpyo place her in front of him like before, but this time instead of just standing there she hit him across the unmasked jaw with her free hand. Hard.
"Grow up."
His head snapped to the side, smile gone, and he froze like that for a moment, surprised by her strength. Then, slowly, the tension ebbed away and he looked down at her with the sort of blank apathy he'd long forgotten to use.
"And what do you suggest I do, go apologize to my fucking boss?" he said evenly. "I can't turn myself over to the shinigami either. I need time to think of what I'm gonna do, so let me be childish for a bit."
"No." Well, at least he hadn't snapped at her. "I know you can't do those. But it doesn't mean you have to act so stupidly about it." Honestly. He was as bad as Hitsugaya at times.
"I would never forgive someone who acted like a child."
Those words did it. Her forgiveness was something he wanted, and if he was going to get it, he'd have to stop acting the fool.
"Fine. I won't act like some kid." Harder said than done, of course. "I ain't dead yet, anyway, and there's still shit I gotta do. And some people might not like it if I kicked the bucket anyway." Though who, he wasn't sure.
His gaze dropped to the items she held. "I'm glad you like the flowers."
She sighed softly, relieved that had worked. Not that it was a lie, but that she had no idea what needed to be said to get through to him sometimes. "Of course I do. I used to have them on my desk all the time. The other officers in my division brought them in every morning for me, it was nice." Hinamori smiled slightly at the memory and the blossoms in her hand, holding the CD player out with the other.
"The song wasn't that bad either," the small vice captain added, glancing up at him.
He took the machine from her hand, not sure what to do with it anymore since he never needed to use it. "Maybe I," he began slowly, "should bring more when those aren't fresh anymore?" Maybe that was a little childish. "And the song's... not bad, yeah."
Not knowing what else to say, Grimmjow offered her a trademark smirk before leaning in to kiss her again. He lingered at her lips for a moment before pulling away, slowly. "I should go."
Blushing, she rested her free hand on his neck, pulling him back for a gentle kiss. "You don't have to do anything." Hinamori fell back a step, expression unreadable, another step to make herself unreachable.
"But I would like to be friends."
He nodded. "Friends. Okay." And then he laughed a bit there, at himself. He would have to content himself with that for the time being. At least it was better than... "I don't think we could be enemies."
"Outcasts should stick together?" She smiled softly, only mildly surprised he'd agreed this time around. Her gaze dropped to the flowers in her hand and the smile widened as her free hand dropped to Tobiume. "Just don't do anything stupid."
"Yeah." He turned to go, to face his once-comrades, to meet his fate. Maybe he should go talk with Noitora. That one wasn't exactly wholly devoted to Aizen anymore, either. "I'll try, but you know I'm an idiot." Another smirk, confident. "You take care of yourself, Momo. I'll see you around."
Rating; pg 15-ish
Characters; Hinamori Momo [
hajikemomo] Grimmjow Jaggerjack [6thsword] Zaera-Polo [unresearched]Summary; Sap, music, angst, a fight. A normal day~
To accompany; Frou Frou - Let Go
The Fray - Look After You
Log;
The tick-tocking slowly subsided as Hinamori closed her eyes, sinking further into the connection with Tobiume. The bench was no tree limb, but she was restless and didn't want to get distracted by monsters, so the forest was out as her normal place to sit and just talk with her zanpakuto. Something she hadn't done since her three day training session anyway and had been able to do yesterday because of the curse. So Xanadu seemed as good a place as any. And the bench was better than a tree branch.
Less worry of falling to the ground from several feet up, for starters.
Keeping the blade sheathed she lay it down beside her, leaning back and watching the clouds move across the sky above her. We're stronger, Tobiume. Is it enough? The comforting murmur in the back of her mind brought a smile to her face as she shut her eyes, enjoying the relative solitude and quiet of the gardens. It was still early in the day. Just don't leave me to think by myself.
The sprites response broadened the smile and lacing her fingers the dark haired girl stretched contentedly before freezing, senses, though distracted by her zanpakuto, still very alert to any change in the reiatsu surrounding her. And this was a change she'd hoped to avoid. Dropping her hands back to her lap, she opened brown eyes questioningly, "Grimmjow."
He stood behind her, behind the bench, not concerned with repressing his reiatsu since he wasn't there to sneak up and kill her, but for... other reasons. He leaned down to better see her face, hands behind his back.
"Yo," he greeted quietly, averting his gaze to the side when he remembered exactly how she'd reacted to him the other day. Okay, so he'd been a prissy, uptight gentleman, and that was worth laughing -- smiling? -- at any day, but she'd been affected too, and the meaning behind her words was less than comforting.
Clearing his throat, the arrancar handed her a round device, a CD player (of all things) from above. He kept his eyes averted. "Here. Put it on."
She frowned gently but complied, freeing it from his hands. She knew what it was, at least, time spent in the Living World put to good use, but she was still hesitant and her gaze slipped to the zanpakuto at her side, reassuring herself with the reminder of her constant companion.
Fiddling with the headphones she tilted her head slightly, speaking softly, "If I ask why, am I going to get an answer?"
Slowly, keeping his other hand hidden behind his back, he walked around the bench to stand in front of Hinamori and slightly to the side. He sat next to her, a little awkwardly, and kept his eyes focused anywhere but her face.
"Because I'm asking you?" he finally responded, glancing up at her confused expression. He knew that wasn't the best answer, but he didn't really know what else to say to make her put the headphones on. It was worth a shot.
She'd said before there was no point in ignoring him, and really, what harm could a CD player do? Besides, if he was trying to distract her for any reason, Isane should be around. And Tobiume was right there. With a somewhat disgruntled sounding, "Fine" Hinamori slipped the headphones on, choosing to keep her gaze down.
He reached out and pressed the play button for her, waited a few seconds, and when he decided the music had started, he withdrew his other hand from behind his back. A fresh bouquet of white Lily of the Valley blossoms, stems wrapped in soft plastic, were grasped lightly between his fingers. He held them out to her, carefully watching her reaction as if the wrong word or movement would upset the moment.
"For you," he said, loud enough so she could hear him over the soft notes of the song.
The Espada never ceased to amaze her. She didn't move, torn between laughing at the absurdity of an arrancar holding flowers or leaving. Or accepting the flowers. Although how that was even an option, she did not know, only dimly aware of the fact that Tobiume had chosen to laugh as she stared at the blossoms, utter confusion on her face.
The song was not helping.
The silence was too long. He should've expected that, of course, considering how ridiculous the situation was. He wouldn't have even considered it at all, if it weren't for Ulquiorra commenting on flowers and a cursed Noitora pondering giving some to Cirucci. Sighing very slightly, he rested the bouquet on her lap, leaned in for a brief and bittersweet kiss, then stood and turned away.
"See ya." He wondered vaguely if he should give her a more formal goodbye. Instead, he picked up his feet and began to walk away, hands in pockets, lips twisting into a painful grimace.
"Wait." She was irritated now, irritated that he felt he could just hand over flowers without an explanation, that he felt he could get away with saying next to nothing, steal a kiss, and then just walk away, that he was just walking away. Wasn't he trying to prove he was sorry with this? If that was so...
It wasn't like she hadn't forgiven him, anyway. Why he felt he still needed to make it up to her, she couldn't say. But she wanted a reason. Or reasons. Whatever it took, she wanted to understand why, and how, of all things, he'd known to bring Lily of the Valley. "Wait." It was in no way forceful but hardly pleading, either. Slipping the headphones off and placing the blossoms to the side, Hinamori stood, watching the Espada with a look that betrayed her confusion and irritation.
He stopped at her first command but kept his back turned to her. At her second, he heard her shift, and at first he thought that maybe he should turn around with a look of bored indifference. But no, perhaps his current expression would prove something to her.
So he turned, fists clenched to stop from trembling with frustration -- at himself, at her, at everyone -- and face contorted into one of pain. Mild, of course. Nothing like the pain he was feeling inside, but enough to show her that being there, in her presence and under these circumstances, hurt too much.
"What?" The word came out harsher than he'd wanted.
She winced, bringing a hand up to rest against her chest - against her heart, the silly, foolish thing, feeling like it would rather stop beating again - wondering if she should move forward or sit down. "...why." One step forward. "Why, why flowers, why Lily of the Valley, why a song, why... why me?"
He opened his mouth slightly to say something, closed it, and only stared while he turned these questions over in his mind. He had to phrase his answers just right.
"I don't know anything about love," he said frankly, averting his gaze again to a square of space right above her shoulder. "I don't know anything about feeling it, expressing it... I heard you give flowers to the person you love. Girls like roses, they say. But it's more meaningful when it's a flower important to you, right?"
His eyes returned to meet hers. "And you, because you're Momo, because you're important to me. I like it when you're happy, but it hurts when you're sad. You've been so sad lately. I want to make you happy again." He sounded like an awkward human boy just hitting puberty. Worse than Wonderwyce, even.
Thinking was not making things any better. Thinking was... adding to the pounding in her head, making her question herself, making her wonder what she'd done and could have done instead. Thinking was simply too much. Hinamori glanced at the blossoms again, biting back the urge to sigh as she glanced back at him, at the distance between them. Make her happy? "Idiot."
She closed her eyes - sighed this time, softly - moved as if to sit down but instead let her shunpyo cross the few feet separating them, landing right in front of the arrancar, gaze settled on the ground. "I'm not sad."
Grimmjow blinked in surprise, not at her shunpyo, but at her decision to stand so close to him. His expression softened, though his brow still creased with hurt and now concern. Tentatively, he reached out and brushed a lock of hair from in front of her eyes.
"Then why," he murmured, "do you always look sad whenever I see you?" He let his hand fall to his side, not sure what else to do. Hugging her seemed wrong, standing still seemed wrong, turning away seemed wrong.
She glanced up warily, bit her lower lip as she thought over what she wouldn't mind mentioning. The answer was not much, but something of an answer was needed, and so something of an answer she'd give.
"Because I've accepted what I am now, and it's not an easy thing to carry. But I will because I wanted this." That said she dropped her gaze again, turning slightly in the direction of the bench where Tobiume rested.
He regarded her with a tilt of his head. That surely wasn't the only thing on her mind, was it? "Yeah, right." He placed a hand on her cheek, then leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "It hurts you," he whispered into her hair. "It'll hurt you for a long time afterward."
Hinamori pulled away fully, eyes fixed on her blade. "I knew the consequences when I agreed to it. It hurts less than betrayal, anyway." She hadn't expected him to be satisfied with her answer but had hoped it would be enough. She really didn't feel up to talking about everything, not now while her head still spun, her hands still shook slightly if she didn't pay attention to them.
He suppressed a sigh this time, straightened, noted the slightest quiver of her hands. He didn't pretend to know what was going on through her head except that it hurt all over and he wasn't helping. He wanted to leave, to go vent more anger on witless animals, to do anything except be here and watch her crumble to pieces in front of him. And yet curiosity kept him rooted to the spot.
"Did I betray you?"
That caught her off guard and she started, staring at him for a moment with a mixture of shock and confusion. Had he?
"I've betrayed others. And been betrayed..." Trailing off, the vice captain shrugged, turning her attention back to the currently silent blade. "You have, but not in the same way." Having to listen to Cirucci's prideful boasts were nothing on the shock and subsequent pain of being stabbed by her ex-captain, but the dull ache was something she could do without.
He watched as she went through the reactions: shock, despair, hurt. Then he too lowered his gaze. Yes, he'd betrayed her, in more ways than one most likely, and there was little he could do about it except apologize -- which she didn't want from him -- and remember not to do it again.
"Guess I have a lot to make up." He allowed a sigh this time.
She wanted to say it didn't matter, but it did, and she wanted to say he didn't have to, but he would anyway. Or at least try. "We can be friends," she offered, knowing full well it wasn't what he wanted at all, knowing if anything it would only irritate him. It hadn't really worked the last time she'd offered, after all.
Friends. Was that it? After all he'd worked for, after all he'd sacrificed, they could be friends? There was no point. They were enemies and lovers, nothing in between. It wasn't right, fair, expected, important enough, all those words that could be right but were probably wrong.
He turned away this time, wanting more than anything to hide his disappointment. "We might as well be enemies."
At least last time he'd accepted it and tried. This...
Hinamori turned to face him - his back - glaring despite herself. But she couldn't bring herself to say anything, and instead moved back to the bench, to Tobiume. Staring at the flowers. She had no idea why but -
"Do you want to see it that badly?"
At that question, he turned around again, this time with slight alarm and confusion coloring his face. "You'll show me?"
Why the sudden change of mind? Why the offer to be friends, but nothing else? Why this City, why these emotions, why everything? A part of him wanted to go back to being cruel and careless, but he knew very well that nothing could bring him back to that or any other part of his past.
He approached the bench, stopping in front of her, looking down. "Show me."
"Then fight me." She evaded his gaze, hand straying to rest on Tobiume's hilt and rest there, some form of home. "Make me need to use it. Prove to me that you can be my enemy."
There was a long silence after her challenge, filled with first shock then confusion then terrible indecision. He kept his eyes on her, on how she refused to look back at him, on how her hand rested on her zanpakutou, on the discarded white petals.
Very slowly, as if gravity felt the need to pull at every fiber in his body, Grimmjow moved his hand to grip the hilt of his own sword. "Fine." His voice cracked. A sonido brought him backwards a few feet, his blade hissing as it left its sheath. "If that's how it has to be, then fine."
Mournfully, a tiny bell chimed.
Rest turned to tight grip, whispering an apology softly - for Tobiume, herself, him - and the zanpakuto was pulled free, hanging dangerously at her side. She hadn't expected him to accept so readily, to fight now, but then again she was always unable to grasp the full extent of Grimmjow's impatience. Shrugging off the guard on her reiatsu the vice captain turned back, slowly.
Shunpyo kicked in then and Tobiume came up as she attempted to force him back.
He parried her blow, easily, and pushed the blade aside. His own sword came down at her arm, a feint; he twisted at the last moment to slice at her throat.
All with a straight face. No thrill and no joy.
She refused to need the mask so soon. Zaera-Polo might have been playing with her, testing her abilities, but she had bested him. Thinking in those terms it was easy enough to bring Tobiume back up, sliding along the length of his blade as she sprung back, hitting dirt as she ducked down low to avoid the zanpakuto completely, free hand balancing her as she crouched.
So it would be like that.
She backed up and he lunged forward with a sonido, hoping the suddenness would catch her off guard, zanpakutou aimed for a clean slice at her ribcage. He wanted to hold back, turn away, or leave, but no; he said he'd fight and kill her one day. This would test his word.
It grazed as she twisted to the side with a small gasp, bringing Tobiume forward to prevent it from being anything more than a shallow cut, forcing the blade off of her. She refused the screaming in her mind, the urge to just let it out and unleash her darker side, the want to do nothing more than hurt and inflict pain. Refused to appease the Espada so simply.
She countered with an upwards swing.
Steel rang as he blocked, and it took all of Grimmjow's willpower not to flinch at the memory of that long-passed curse day.
"Show me!" he snarled, pushing against Tobiume with his zanpakutou. But somewhere in the back of his mind he wished she wouldn't, so he wouldn't have to watch her innocence shatter in the wake of a Hollow's darkness.
This she could handle, this she was capable of. "Make me," she shot back, keeping Tobiume pushed against him, refusing, always refusing, not moving an inch as blade fought against blade. "I see no reasons to use it yet, Espada."
His eyes flashed at the cold title. So be it. "Then I'll give you one." He tipped his zanpakutou down, pushing Tobiume with it and keeping her there, opening a space between him and Hinamori. He raised his free hand, a cero gathering in the palm.
Sorry.
A smirk and the Espada kicked forward, unsheathed zanpakuto at Grimmjows throat as his free arm wrapped around the vice captains neck and pulled her back to him roughly. "I think you should stop there," he muttered calmly, eyes never leaving the Sexta Espada and grip tightening, almost cutting off Hinamori's ability to breathe.
"Lower your zanpakutos."
"Zaera-Polo!" Grimmjow snarled, lips twisting into a sneer at the pink-haired arrancar. Nevertheless, he redirected his cero to the sky and released the pressure on Tobiume. His gaze flicked over to Zaera-Polo's grip on Hinamori's neck.
He smiled that smile as Hinamori followed suit, Tobiume hanging at her side and gaze downcast, expression unreadable. "I am only doing as I was ordered, Grimmjow." Zaera-Polo released his grip on the girls throat, grabbing the hand she'd started to raise to her face.
"I don't think so, vice captain." Her anger only made the smile wider and he pushed the shinigami to the ground before sheathing his zanpakuto, eyes still on the other arrancar.
Grimmjow forced himself between Zaera-Polo and the downed Hinamori, nothing but hatred seething from his teal eyes. The grip on his zanpakutou tightened, though he didn't raise the sword from his side. Instead, he snatched the white collar with his other hand with the full intention of pushing away the other Espada.
"Get the fuck out of here," he snapped, tone dangerous.
"That would go against my orders," he returned, smile settling into apathy. "You're not meant to kill the broken toy." Not yet, anyway. Not when he hadn't had his fun, not when she was so much more useful alive.
The girl in question stood, Tobiume loose in hand and looking at anything but the two Espada. "Shut up."
A quick glance at her, then Grimmjow's attention was back on Zaera-Polo. His fingers tightened around the other's uniform. "I wasn't going to kill her. And I ain't leaving till you do."
"I said shut up." She glared, surprisingly angry as she forced her reiatsu down, submissive but anything other than weak. "I don't care what orders you have but you have no right to interrupt. And you." Hinamori pulled Tobiume closer, tighter. "Don't say we're enemies if you're not going to. Don't say you want to see it if you won't kill me."
Something in him snapped.
Hissing, sneer evaporating, he let go of Zaera-Polo and instead faced Hinamori, stood right in front of her, grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. He wasn't sure if it was to show her how broken he was, or if it was to hide from the other arrancar. He couldn't quite remember another time he'd been so crushed, except once when he'd held Hinamori's lifeless body.
He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he couldn't think of anything worthwhile to say. So, brow knit together in fury, he sheathed his zanpakutou, ripped the bell off the hilt, snatched her hand, and pressed the small object into her palm.
"Keep your fucking bell," he whispered, pushing her fist against her chest where her heart was before turning away from both of them, hands in pockets, head bowed.
Tobiume, bell, Hinamori dropped, hitting dirt, breathing hard. Not breathing. Something.
A scream and both hands flew to her face, eyes closed tight as she fought against the thing trying to take control of her in her moment of weakness. Manifested, Tobiume sought to comfort her now crying wielder, tried to pull the hands away and look her in the eye but she resisted the zanpakutos gentle touch, rejected her companion.
Zaera-Polo watched, calmly, hand on zanpakuto just in case as he watched the shinigami start to lose control. He waited on Grimmjow to react, if he did at all, waited for the other to move either to her aid or to abandon her. The smug smile was coming back slowly, not deterred as she screamed again.
It was rather nice, hearing that.
Grimmjow didn't move, didn't blink, just stood where he was with back turned as she fell and screamed the first time. Reaction was a victory for Zaera-Polo either way, so he had to settle for the lesser evil, the lesser pain. To help her meant suffering the wrath of his comrades and creator, maybe even her own wrath, but to leave her meant suffering his own unforgiving wrath upon himself.
She screamed again, and Grimmjow shot Zaera-Polo a death glare as he turned and stalked back to Hinamori. He knelt in front of her, pushed aside Tobiume, grabbed the shinigami's wrists and forced her hands from her face. Fingers ran through her hair, wiped away tears, his subdued calls of her name accompanying them as he sought to quiet her.
Golden eyes greeted him as she glared tearfully, fought against his comfort, snarled, fists clenched and nails digging in, drawing blood. Seething anger and hatred and a desire to rend.
Zaera-Polo remembered that look and sneered, turning away slightly. "She's a traitor to herself. She doesn't want you, Grimmjow. Would you turn from us for her?" His grip tightened dangerously on his blade as he waited for the other Espada to reply.
There it was. The inborn hate of every Hollow.
"I know she doesn't want me," he replied, not looking back as he addressed Zaera-Polo as he fought Hinamori's resistance. "But she needs me, even if she doesn't want to." He left his answer to the question unspoken, instead catching the shinigami's lips in a kiss, his hands tightening around her wrists to keep her rooted to the spot.
I'm sorry. No apology could right his wrongs, but that didn't stop him. I'm sorry. Really sorry.
He wouldn't draw away, not till she calmed down, not till she was safe from herself.
Her snarl was dangerous as she tried to pull back, to free her hands and take the blade again, to pull the mask on properly, to snap and break and tear and rend. But she was unable to do anything but snarl and whimper against him, unable to fully give in to the rage within her, part of her wanting instead to give into this. Inner and outer she struggled, attempting to subdue her mind and withdraw the hollow, to return the affection and tear the Espada apart.
She had questions, so many of them, most starting with why, most with answers she knew he wouldn't, couldn't give.
With a low growl she forced her left hand forward, finding his shoulder, fingers digging in as she attempted to push against him, push him back. Giving in to anything was too much.
Answer gained, Zaera-Polo relaxed, formulating a new plan as he watched the shinigami struggling against his brother. It was tempting to attack there and then, to take them both down but... No. He'd have to talk with some before he moved. Emotions. Nothing but trouble, incomprehensible and irritating.
He barely noticed her grip on his shoulder, responding in kind with a firmer hold on her wrist. He pushed forward against the ground, against her, breaking contact ever so slightly to draw breath.
Was it working? He didn't know, wouldn't know, not unless she reverted back to normal. But it was better than breaking her under sword and spell.
"Snap out of it," he hissed, kissing her again, briefly this time, still very aware of Zaera-Polo's presence at his back. He glared at the other Espada again, eyes burning, as he pulled Hinamori's quivering frame against his chest.
The snarl subsided into a whimper, into a confused sob and she was torn between clinging to him and pulling away, between crying against him or tearing him apart, between self and hollow, confused, pained, creature not releasing its hold on mind and shoulder, digging in deeper. Too many options, too many ways out and not one of them lessening the pressure in her head.
Hinamori sobbed again, tried to pull back, to sit up on her own, murmuring quietly to herself, to the arrancar, to Tobiume, to the hollow, unintelligible words that made no sense to her either as she settled her gaze on the zanpakuto just out of reach, as torn as the rest of her with one eye still gleaming dangerously.
Patience. He was never good at it, but he needed it now more than ever. The Hollow was slowly releasing its hold on her, and all she needed was another push towards sanity.
Grimmjow stood, pulling her up with him, supporting her with one arm around her shoulders. He shifted his hand up to hers and forcefully dislodged her grip on his shoulder. Whether the Hollow would try again was up to Hinamori herself, if she would let it control her body against her will in that way. His gaze flicked around the area, noting the flowers, her dropped zanpakutou, the bell, Zaera-Polo a good distance away.
He coaxed her in the direction of the bench.
She couldn't, wouldn't, didn't want to move. Not away from Tobiume, not away from the only thing she'd leave herself. But her head was pounding, her heart was racing, it was hard to breathe and think and exist and see and live and feel and do anything. She tried to turn, stumbled, trying to free herself and return to the zanpakuto.
He'd seen enough and with a sneer in Grimmjow's direction the other Espada disappeared.
Grimmjow let her go, let her fumble for Tobiume, knowing the connection she had with her zanpakutou and yet not knowing. He focused for a moment on the patch of dirt where Zaera-Polo had stood a moment before, knowing that the moment he'd turned to comfort Hinamori's anguish, he'd made the choice. He wouldn't be able to go back to the others or Aizen.
Sighing, the Sexta Espada turned and retreated to the bench, sitting down heavily beside the forgotten bouquet.
She sat still for a moment, Tobiume tight in hand, letting the blade reassure and remind her of who she was. Forcing herself back to her feet, unable to sheath Tobiume for the time being, she grabbed the bell as she straightened, expression blank as the dark haired girl faced Grimmjow.
She wanted to ask why, always why, why friends wasn't enough, why he'd turn on her one second and then comfort the next. Why it had even managed to subdue the hollow when Hirako and Urahara combined had only been enough to hold her at bay until she regained herself.
But she knew the answer.
With an angry snarl she threw the bell at his head, an irritated "idiot" following it.
He caught the bell before it could hit him, then slowly lowered and opened his hand to stare at it. He wondered if she'd forgive him now, truly forgive him, and if he'd just fucked himself over if she would not.
"Sorry," he finally said after some time, moving to tie the bell to the hilt of his zanpakutou again. He found he was always apologizing to her now for the same reason every time. It was stupid and annoying to them both, but he wasn't about to stop. Not yet.
Grimmjow stood, picked up the flowers, and walked over to her. Keeping his eyes on hers, he thrust the blossoms into her arms. "I know I'm an idiot." Quietly now. Sorrowfully. "And I know you don't like apologies. I tried, but nothing works." He shrugged. "Looks like I've fucked up."
How on earth she'd ever managed to put with the Espada - let alone let herself fall in love with him - was beyond her. She wished that the bell had hit him, but her anger was fast disappearing as she was confronted with him and his feelings, being replaced by something she couldn't put a name to.
"You're an idiot. A selfish, irritating, foolish idiot." No malevolence behind the words. Just words. "And I don't care. I'm sorry all I can offer isn't enough, and I'm, thank you for the flowers but you're an idiot."
She sighed, moved past him, reclaiming her sheath and tying it to her side. "What are you supposed to do if you're a traitor too?"
"I know."
He let her walk past him, and he tilted his face to the sky. So blue, a betrayal to the winter and to the day, and for reasons unknown his face split into a grin. It was stupid, it was selfish, pointless, infuriating, and so many other words, but he could only smile at his broken state. There'd be no pity for this fool.
He had no real answer to her question. Zaera-Polo would report to Aizen, the others would find out, he'd be hunted like the rest of them. No pact could keep him safe. He had no purpose now, so his existence was meaningless. "I'll die, I guess."
"At least I planned mine." Tobiume slid home, softly murmuring in the back of her mind as a comfort against the other thing now residing there. It was tempting to throw the CD player at him too, but she picked it up gently, balancing it with the flowers as she turned back to him.
"You're being surprisingly defeatist."
He let his gaze fall from the sky to where she stood a few feet away, still smiling somewhat. Yes, defeated. Not because he'd be labeled as defective by Aizen, not because he'd failed his purpose, but because she had tried to give him all she could and he'd rejected it.
He shrugged again. "Let me hurt, okay? It'll take me a while to get back up from the bottom, especially with Aizen ready to crush me any minute now."
Oh, he was irritating her, acting like a child and smiling and talking about death like it was nothing. She let shunpyo place her in front of him like before, but this time instead of just standing there she hit him across the unmasked jaw with her free hand. Hard.
"Grow up."
His head snapped to the side, smile gone, and he froze like that for a moment, surprised by her strength. Then, slowly, the tension ebbed away and he looked down at her with the sort of blank apathy he'd long forgotten to use.
"And what do you suggest I do, go apologize to my fucking boss?" he said evenly. "I can't turn myself over to the shinigami either. I need time to think of what I'm gonna do, so let me be childish for a bit."
"No." Well, at least he hadn't snapped at her. "I know you can't do those. But it doesn't mean you have to act so stupidly about it." Honestly. He was as bad as Hitsugaya at times.
"I would never forgive someone who acted like a child."
Those words did it. Her forgiveness was something he wanted, and if he was going to get it, he'd have to stop acting the fool.
"Fine. I won't act like some kid." Harder said than done, of course. "I ain't dead yet, anyway, and there's still shit I gotta do. And some people might not like it if I kicked the bucket anyway." Though who, he wasn't sure.
His gaze dropped to the items she held. "I'm glad you like the flowers."
She sighed softly, relieved that had worked. Not that it was a lie, but that she had no idea what needed to be said to get through to him sometimes. "Of course I do. I used to have them on my desk all the time. The other officers in my division brought them in every morning for me, it was nice." Hinamori smiled slightly at the memory and the blossoms in her hand, holding the CD player out with the other.
"The song wasn't that bad either," the small vice captain added, glancing up at him.
He took the machine from her hand, not sure what to do with it anymore since he never needed to use it. "Maybe I," he began slowly, "should bring more when those aren't fresh anymore?" Maybe that was a little childish. "And the song's... not bad, yeah."
Not knowing what else to say, Grimmjow offered her a trademark smirk before leaning in to kiss her again. He lingered at her lips for a moment before pulling away, slowly. "I should go."
Blushing, she rested her free hand on his neck, pulling him back for a gentle kiss. "You don't have to do anything." Hinamori fell back a step, expression unreadable, another step to make herself unreachable.
"But I would like to be friends."
He nodded. "Friends. Okay." And then he laughed a bit there, at himself. He would have to content himself with that for the time being. At least it was better than... "I don't think we could be enemies."
"Outcasts should stick together?" She smiled softly, only mildly surprised he'd agreed this time around. Her gaze dropped to the flowers in her hand and the smile widened as her free hand dropped to Tobiume. "Just don't do anything stupid."
"Yeah." He turned to go, to face his once-comrades, to meet his fate. Maybe he should go talk with Noitora. That one wasn't exactly wholly devoted to Aizen anymore, either. "I'll try, but you know I'm an idiot." Another smirk, confident. "You take care of yourself, Momo. I'll see you around."