Perfect Match

2: Shit Hits The Fan

Edited: 31 October 2019

"How am I supposed to work with this?" Grimmjow's adoptive father sighed in exasperation. "You have got the brain capacity of plankton, the muscles of a thug and the hair of a third-rate stripper." The man's form seemed to be cast in an eternal shadow, his narrow brown eyes the only things glinting in the blackness. "I pulled you from nothing. I sacrificed time, money and effort to get you to become my successor and this is what I have to show for it?! I made you!" Grimmjow was only twelve years old and his small frame was shaking in a mix of fear and pure, unadulterated fury. He wasn't positive, but he was pretty sure most parents weren't such assholes. Sure, Aizen adopted him after his family kicked the bucket one by one, but that didn't make him the older man's property.

"Hey, can you hear me?" A calm masculine voice echoed in the back of his head.

"You are useless." The darkness surrounding Aizen's form stretched out and began to slither its way to Grimmjow. "Worthless." It encroached on his bare feet. "You can't do even the simplest of tasks." The darkness crawled up his ankles. "You are a hammer, only good for blunt grunt work." It coiled its way up his legs. "Damn it! All that effort, wasted!" It reached the tops of his thighs. "What went wrong?" It slid up his stomach. "Were you an idiot from the start? How did I not notice how unbelievably-" It snaked up his chest. "-ill-equipped you are for such a task." It wrapped around his neck. "You were such a waste- a waste of everything!" Aizen raised his hand to slap the boy... the darkness encroached on Grimmjows face.

"You need to shut the fuck up." It wasn't yelled. It wasn't whispered. It was spoken as if it were a statement of fact. Aizen paused. The boy's eyes were sharp, his chin downturned as he looked up at the man through his lashes, his stance made it clear that Aizen had shaken something loose. His words were harsh, but spoken like they were just a part of the conversation. The threat went unspoken, pooled in his icy blue eyes and the hidden dagger of his voice. The father had flipped his switch... finally...

"Move her over with the others, but be careful of her spi..." That calm, unfamiliar voice echoed faintly through the memory again.

"Are you done now?" A new kind of anger ripped through Grimmjow as he spoke to his "father". It was the type that settled like lava under his skin and pooled at the very bottom of his heart. It was wrath.

"Come on man, wake up." Someone was tapping Grimmjow's left cheek repetitively. His chest felt heavy, pins-and-needles mixing with the feeling of adrenaline, hot as fire, rushing through his veins, and his gut hurt... Holy hell, it hurt.

"I see. You do actually have some fight left in you." Aizens pearly teeth glinted in the darkness as a smile crept on his face. "Good."

"Seriously!" A more substantial tap, bordering on a slap, hit Grimmjows face and his eyes snapped open to see the face of a young man with bright orange hair whose nose hovered less than an inch above the Jaegerjaquez' chin.

"What the fu-?!" His body coiled and burned- ached- hurt like hell, but his abdomen was the worst. It was like someone had set it on fire. The pain cascaded throughout his being, ripping through his muscles that had automatically tensed and turned what felt like a hot fire poker into straight up lava crawling through his innards. He felt lightheaded, and while his core was burning like the sun, his limbs were ice cold. His lips shivered, his teeth clacking together briefly before he clenched his jaw.

"Shit- Fuck- Damn! Don't fuckin' move you asshat!" It was spoken through gritted teeth by the ginger who he only just now fully understood was laying on top of him. With every beat of his heart the pain in his stomach got infinitely worse, and having some bastard laying on him wasn't helping anything. He went to shove him off, but one arm was bent and stuck under him and the other refused to obey his order to move, probably dislocated.