A Defiance Of The Natural Order
A Bleach Fanfic
I don't own any of the characters in this story.
…damn it….
Tatsuki and Grimmjow
Rating – T, for some blood and swearing.
(Because there is no way this pair can get near each other and there is no violence, ya know?)
Grimmjow had a problem.
Task – Find one Kurosaki Ichigo and beat the ever-living fuck out of him.
Reason – Why the fuck not?
Current situation – Got to Karakura Town, fine. Evaded notice of local Shinigami, fine.
Find Kurosaki?
So. Damn. Not. Fine.
The dude was an orange haired human who could turn into a Shinigami via a golden eyesore on his chest, he hung around a giant and a bimbo, he had a zanpakuto that was little more than a giant cleaver, and, at that moment, he was the needle in the proverbial haystack because Grimmjow Jaggerjack, the best motherfucking Espada ever, could not fucking find him!
"This is fucking ridiculous," Grimmjow muttered.
He was currently floating around above the local high school and, lacking anything better to do, dropping pebbles on the heads of the unfortunate kids walking around beneath. Petty, but fun.
"Maybe I should just start wrecking shit up," Grimmjow wondered aloud. Shinigami were annoying like that. There was never one around when you wanted one (like, say, when a Hollow was chasing your ass), and when you didn't want one around, they wouldn't stay away. This was most likely after the Hollow that was chasing your ass had already killed you.
…Hey. There was a thought.
'Shinigami come to dead people. Kurosaki is a Shinigami. Kill someone, and he'll come do a Soul Burial. Or another Shinigami will come around and I can get them to tell me where he is!'
Up yours Ulquiorra, Grimmjow thought. I am so capable of thinking up good plans!
Now, who to pick? Who, who, who, who – Wait!
Directly below him, there was a girl. She… reeked of Kurosaki's reiatsu. A friend of his?
'Even better', Grimmjow thought. Smiling happily at the thought of imminent slaughter, Grimmjow fell down to land on the roof of the equipment shed in the exercise yard. The girl's karate class was finishing up for the day and they were filing after their sensei like ducklings. Except for her. She was asking permission to stay behind. An overachiever? Ugh.
Grimmjow hopped off the shed and strolled up behind the girl, hands in his pockets.
He had to make it flashy, that was for sure. Something that would definitely get the attention of Kurosaki, and maybe the better portion of Karakura. Not too quick either. Screaming was good and all, but it was the effect it would have on Kurosaki that was important. Grimmjow didn't want the fight to be over quickly, and anger was such a damn good motivator.
He was right behind her now, and he was….
…Odd. He didn't remember slipping.
And yet, he, Grimmjow Jaggerjack, was staring up at the sky.
And there was blood in his mouth.
And the girl, who barely came up to his chest, was glaring down at him.
There was something inherently wrong with this situation.
"Who the fuck are you?" The-Soon-To-Be-Very-Dead-Bitch-Who-Was-Short-And-Violent demanded of him.
…And there was that curious sense of the universe being out of balance again.
Short, mortal females did not demand anything of him. They pleaded for their lives, if he even allowed them that.
Well, the scenario simply had to be rectified. Preferably with lots of blood and screaming.
Grimmjow stood back up and glared impressively at the teen, who glared right back at him.
Grimmjow felt his ire rise and raised a hand to rip off her head –
- Ah! There was Kurosaki!
In full Bankai form, no less. Grimmjow smiled.
"Tatsuki, move!" Kurosaki screamed as he rocketed towards Grimmjow.
The girl – Tatsuki, Grimmjow noted – dove out of the way just in time to avoid being speared with Zangetsu.
As they took their battle further and further away from Kurosaki's precious city, Grimmjow kept an eye on the retreating form of a small girl in white gi.
'Ta. Tsu. Ki,' Grimmjow thought.
'I'll have to remember that.'