"I've Become Impossible"
She was pretty as sin, but dumb as fuck if you asked him.
The girl stood stock-still with her chin tucked under and her hands folded primly before her. She along with the ten Espada stood before Aizen as he waxed eloquent about some subject Grimmjow was sure he couldn't give two shits about. The Sexta could swear the man just loved to hear himself talk.
His attention was instead focused squarely on the young human in their midst. It was obvious that she was trying her hardest to be unnoticeable. Unfortunately for her, she was a lamb in a den of wolves, the natural – and particularly exquisite – prey of a nest of monsters that sustained themselves on the souls of the living. And every Hollow in that room could smell how especially sumptuous a soul their guest had. She was divine.
He watched as she fidgeted under the stares of half the room. Their loyalty to Aizen did not necessarily cancel out the Espadas' savage nature, and most of them did not have the tact or the reasoning to hide their interest in the girl. Ulquiorra, stone-faced as always, was the only one wholly focused on the Shinigami leader, and Halibel stared blankly at a spot on the wall over his shoulder. They were the only two not leering at the human girl in some way.
Her look of sheer distress was amusing on a certain level.
What Grimmjow did not notice, however, was any sign of the physically crippled girl he had seen last night.
Her face showed no evidence of the cuts or bruising she had been trying to hide from her empty room the previous evening. Her dress was white and pristine, and her countenance was composed, though perhaps a little uneasy in the presence of so many monsters.
He wondered if her healing powers could take away her memories or if she just had a stronger backbone than he'd originally credited her with.
He watched as she continued to fidget to Aizen's incessant droning. Grimmjow thought fleetingly that he should probably be listening to what was being said, otherwise he would end up leaving the meeting with just as little information as he had come with.
How would he ever overthrow Aizen if he didn't even know what the Shinigami's plan was? He needed to pay attention.
Despite the defeat of his little legion of loyal Fracción in the world of the living, his ambition to rule Hueco Mundo as its king had not lessened. If anything, their sacrifices strengthened his resolve.
They might have been destroyed, but after he'd eaten of them decades ago, they would live on in him forever. Their goals constantly whispered in the clatter of voices in his head. They screamed, growled, lilted, sang, cried, and chanted, and it was a testament to his composure that he was not driven to complete madness by the voices of all the souls he had consumed in his undead life. He sometimes even thought the tiny voice of reason that sometimes spoke up in his head sounded suspiciously like Shaolin. He wiped away the shadow of nostalgia that threatened to spread to his face.
The Sexta Espada’s brow furrowed. His goal remained, then, that he would be king. After Aizen's demise, he would ensure that Old Man Barragan was out of the picture. Starrk might be Primera, but ambition was certainly not in his character. Grimmjow felt he posed little threat for when the time actually came to take action.
The question remained, though, as to when that time would come.
After a century of scheming, the Shinigami had finally revealed his hand to his once-allies in the Seireitei. His master plan had finally been set into motion, and Grimmjow knew now was the time to examine all the parts of Aizen's intricate maneuver as they unfolded.
He was certain this girl was a wild card, though.
She was probably still in her teens, if he were to evaluate her based on appearance alone. It had been centuries since he himself had aged, though, so he might have been a poor judge of that.
This girl, he thought to himself, must have some sort of unspeakable power or at least an incredible untapped potential for Aizen, meticulous as he was, to willingly risk derailing his plans by kidnapping her.
She had already demonstrated a penchant for witchcraft, he thought as his left arm tingled with the phantom sensation of loss. His fingers curled at his side, flexing into a fist before relaxing again, over and over.
He knew now, as he watched her try to pay attention to Aizen’s subtle intricacies and double entendres, that she was so in over her head. She was alone in this world of suffering and war and savagery – this purgatory – and she would find no allies here.
Opportunistic predators were successful predators, he reminded himself as he observed her and simultaneously dissected Aizen's strategies. Grimmjow was a top predator as well.
He watched as she slowly began losing some of her poise and composure, certain she could feel the hungry stares of the Espada surrounding her. She fidgeted absently, twiddling her fingers as she clasped them in front of her. She chewed on the inside of her bottom lip, and he was intent on learning her body language and using that to his advantage.
She was, after all, here against her will. Grimmjow hoped this fact could potentially be used to sway her to his cause, and Aizen could experience the shock of his plans coming unraveled from within his own organization.
Yes, Grimmjow liked the sound of that in his head. This pretty little girl could be just the break he was looking for in his plot to overthrow Aizen.
As if she knew the extent of his attention, he watched as the girl's eyes fluttered up from the floor around her feet. They scanned around for a moment until her shocked expression met his own and locked. Grimmjow thrived on the deer-in-the-headlights look she gave him and delivered a menacing full-toothed grin, letting her know that she was the focus of his attentions. He almost laughed aloud as she first blanched entirely then turned scarlet. Her eyes shot back to the floor before her, unwilling to acknowledge the Hollow's stare again. She wished the floor could just swallow her whole.
Yes, Grimmjow thought to himself, this would not be hard at all.
Grimmjow was first and foremost a predator, after all, and Orihime was prey ripe for the hunt.