“Then it can’t be helped. Drink, my friend! Since you won’t turn back, at least stay here for a while. Just a little while. All the other captains must have made their moves by now. This battle should be over soon. Until then, please stay here and drink to your heart’s content.” — Shunsui Kyōraku.
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“Stay still you bastard!” Grimmjow scread for what was probably the thousandth ti since he started fighting this insufferable blond …..animal!
Shinji looked apologetically at Grimmjow and replied with the sa tone. “I’m sorry, I’d rather not do this if I had a choice.”
Suddenly his eyes glead as if he just ca across a great idea. “How about we both stop fighting and wait off the side?”
Grimmjow froze. His mind spun in circles and other shapes that didn’t make sense as he tried to comprehend Shinji’s words, and when he ca to an understanding and thought up a reply, what ca out was…
“RARGHH!” He lunged wildly at Shinji with his sword that was smoothly deflected to the side and left him wide open all for no followup attack to co, his opponent more content in standing to the side and staring dumbly at him. “Fight you arrogant bastard!”
Shinji frowned and Grimmjow smirked. “That’s it, you arrogant prick! Are you going to just cowardly sit this out while your comrades are fighting with their lives on the line?! That’s arrogance, arrogant blonde bastard!”
Shinji’s frown deepened and Grimmjow’s smile widened. The Cuatro Espada cared for nothing other than satiating his thirst for a blood boiling battle. And he would be damned if his wishes were thwarted by the blond bimbo.
Claws and sword, a wild cadence of brutality and rawness, was how he fought. And at every turn they were t and stalled by Shinji’s blade. It was so fluid a motion that every inch of Grimmjow saw through the reluctant façade and he wanted nothing more than to draw bloodlust from whoever this man was.
Kicks, punches, slashes, surprise attacks, Cero – none of them worked on this man, and the realization almost drove Grimmjow mad with frustration just as much as it excited him. His pride also didn’t allow him to use his Resurrección when he hadn't yet been able to draw out the seriousness of his opponent. So far as Grimmjow was concerned, the fight was just getting started.
And while he wasn’t a figure of patience, for the promise of a good fight, Grimmjow knew how to pace himself.
……
It happened so fast that Grimmjow didn’t know when he was riddled with wounds and kicked away like a stray cat. It was so quick when Shinji decided to be serious with him that he doubted he lasted a minute against the smirking blonde. He quickly lost consciousness.
……
[POV: With Aizen]
Aizen’s eyes calmly went over the battles that were underway, seeing how his Espada were losing and yet remaining dispassionately calm, daresay even slightly amused by it.
Baraggan, Tōsen, Grimmjow, Zommari, and Szayelaporro were no longer part of the board. It was a sha that the only ones remaining were Harribel and Ulquiorra – the very two that were more than likely to betray him.
“Truly, if you want sothing done perfectly you’ll have to do it yourself.” He mused to himself. He pondered making his move around this ti but he was interested in seeing how things would play out between Harribel and Ulquiorra, despite him already knowing their final choices.
As for why he left Harribel and Ulquiorra alone despite being sure of their imminent betrayal, the reason was simple, at least to him. He wanted to watch the growth pattern they’d undergo when under the pressure of deep emotional stress.
It fascinated him how eerily they resembled human souls when they struggled with their emotions. He wanted to see if it was a deep factor in how their identity developed. How bearing and accepting humane emotions shaped how they would feel and act. Would it bring them closer to a human soul, or was it a supplentary quality of their evolution?
Their lives were spared by his curiosity. And also the fact that, dead or alive, they had little importance to his plans.
“Go on, my Espada. Entertain for one last ti.”
……
Shunsui and Harribel’s fight had entered a climax, one that was created from Harribel’s desperation as she struggled to keep herself centered against the barrage of Shunsui’s attacks.
Shunsui sported a few fringes on his coat and a bruise or two sowhere on his body. Harribel on the other hand looked worse for wear, and despite her healing abilities she still looked beat up.
He fought her, bringing her ever so close to the edge of death with the sa lackadaisical attitude.
“Ah, young lady, you’re really pulling my bones with this one.” He said with a weary face, one she would never again let herself fall for.
Shunsui looked at her and shook his head. She was one headstrong lady and had they not been on opposite sides he was sure she would fit in just fine with a specific bunch. He was being truthful when he said he had nothing towards her with her being a Hollow. To him the labels were redundant. He preferred it simplified.
You were either an enemy or not. He didn’t give a damn about Quincies, Hollows, Bounts, Shinigami, or Nobles.
No matter how much he admired their character, he never once regretted killing an enemy. The notion of it was both pitiful and stupid. Why would you regret killing an enemy? Sobody who wanted to kill you?
Hollow labels like ‘Good’ and ‘Bad’ mattered little when staring at an enemy with your blades being the only thing between you. Their ambitions, goals, reason, past stories – none mattered when your lives were on the line.
That is why he would never apologize, feel regret, or hesitate in killing an enemy.
So no matter how he could feel that she didn’t want to fight him. No matter how he understood that she wanted nothing more than to leave and save those she cared about, Katen Kyōkotsu never wavered as they swung parallel to each other towards her neck, Kageoni facilitating their strike.
“Harribel, step to the side.”
That voice, the soft command that followed, subconsciously nudged Harribel’s compliance, and as she did Shunsui ca face to face with the muzzle of gun–
Cero.
A blast of purely condensed Reiryoku, greater than any Hollow had produced on this battlefield, was released in a wide wave from the gun’s muzzle.
Shunsui appeared a short distance to the left with a slight frown on his face as he looked at the shoulder of his coat that was singed.
“Sorry about that, Mr. Captain. My friend looked to be in genuine danger for a second there. Hope you understand?” Starrk said as he stood protectively in front of Harribel.
Shunsui smiled with closed eyes and waved his hands nonchalantly. “Of course, of course. We were carried away for a mont there.”
“Oh, I see. No problems then.” Starrk said, accepting Shunsui's apology good-naturedly.
“So, who are you?” Shunsui asked with lopsided cold eyes.
Starrk scratched his head awkwardly. “That’s a bit complicated.”
“Oh?” Shunsui perked up both pleasantly confused and surprised. “Mind simplifying it for then?”
Their conversation carried a jovial and lazy air that made them seem like friendly acquaintances.
Starrk looked pensive and reluctant, both unwilling and too lazy to explain in details. He looked at his gun and scowled irritatedly. “I know, alright.”
Off to the side, Shunsui appeared patient while his hands tightened around Katen Kyōkotsu. His eyes studied the two Hollows, speculating how he would go about eliminating the both of them, especially Starrk. ‘He’s giving the sa feeling as Baraggan.’
Starkk exhaled, sohow looking worn out at the prospect of how he would have go about convincing Shunsui. ‘Better to say it as it is.’
“I’m Starrk, the forr Prira Espada, or sothing like that. I’m sowhat of a guest of Kisuke and Yoruichi, on behest of Itachi.”
“Eh? You don’t say.” Shunsui teased, not giving them a hint if he believed Starrk’s words or not which caused Starrk to sigh.
With a particularly frustrated groan, Starrk dug into his shirt and threw sothing at Shunsui whose eyes quirked up in genuine surprise when he saw what he’d caught. A small wooden tablet. A Captain’s stamp, one that held the insignia of the 2nd Division. One that Shunsui knew too well because of the addition of a specific symbol, a particularly stylized leaf symbol.
“So? What do you expect to do by giving this?” Shunsui asked, keeping his deeper thoughts away from his face.
“Co on, don’t be like that. Are you going to nudge us until we fight? I thought you weren’t the type.” Starrk replied with a deadpan.
Shunsui shrugged. “If I have to. You interrupted our fight by attacking and now you’re shielding an enemy of the Seireitei. This,” he waved the carved wood, “doesn’t cut it, I’m afraid.”
“Then go down there and ask Kisuke or Yoruichi. I’m not fighting you if that’s what you’re hoping for. As for her,” he gestured at Harribel who looked just as confused at what was happening, “like I said, she’s a friend. And besides, she left that comrade of yours alive, didn’t she?”
Shunsui looked at the two of them, acutely aware that the three Arrancars that were fighting Lisa and Matsumoto had stopped engaging and were watching them.
He took another look at what he held in his hands: Itachi’s personal stamp, along with his genuine Reiatsu, and sighed.
“We’ll see—”
And that was when Aizen made his move.
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