About time more of them showed up. With so few Arrancar around, it was getting deserted here.
"When the Hell did you get here?"
—-Huh. The Espada stopped in his tracks, attention momentarily caught by something vaguely familiar. Not so much because he found it interesting - feh - but because it pinpointed him back to a point in time when he’d crashed this sorry excuse of a town a few years back.
The blonde whom it belonged to did not go amiss by his hard gaze, and suffice to say, the Sexta was hardly impressed, his attitude remaining somewhat dismissive- even if there weren’t many he’d met with reiatsu of that level.
That bitch was here during that little invasion, wasn’t she?
She walked through the halls of Las Noches, engrossed in the book she held in her dainty hands. The former Tercera had spent the entire afternoon in the library and decided it was time for supper. However, she was just too fascinated by this book!
Nelliel turned a corner and suddenly heard the manly voice, lifting her head to in fact confirm his identity. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. She gently put closed the book, wondering what this exchange would bring.
“That they did,” She replied, returning his gaze. She didn’t know the Sexta very well, but she was privy to his attitude. It didn’t seem as if her fellow espada were fond of her return. However, she was indifferent to this assumption. She was rather reserved and kept to herself most of the time anyway.
"Che," Grimmjow said almost dismissively in spite of Nelliel’s polite, if somewhat tentative reply, his attitude just as brusque as it had always been. No amount of time was going to mellow the Sexta, especially not since he’d gotten lumped together with the Cuatro. That, and he still had a few grudges to keep him fuelled.
"Seems that they’d let just about anyone in."
Grudges that served as the sole reason why he had chosen to undergo severe training every day to improve himself. He eyed Nelliel critically, his demeanour easing none- hostile, but otherwise, showed no indication that he would go out of line.
He was not here to pick a fight with the former Tercera.
"Weren’t you on Kurosaki’s side when all of that happened?"
“Don’t pretend as though you predicted I would admit it.” He countered swiftly, meeting the Sexta’s gaze with his own. Interestingly enough, Grimmjow’s usual cockiness seemed rather absent from his expression upon observation. Through having remained in close contact with the Sexta for so long, the Cuarta found himself able to distinguish something like confidence from hubris— a fact which he wasn’t entirely sure he’d particularly boast about for a multitude of reasons.
After a moment’s pause, he continued, “Even so, I assumed you had known without me saying; I find you interesting.”
For once, Grimmjow did not have a sneer or a derisive remark to pan out to Ulquiorra, his attention seemingly caught by something else entirely.
Remaining silent, he drew a hand out of one of his hakama pockets- and with calloused fingers, came to grasp a pale chin. His hold was not rough, but it was certainly not gentle either. Steely blue were almost searching, placing the Cuarta under the cold brunt of inspection, thereby showcasing a rare moment of icy analyzing from the Sexta. Warmth, mockery, humour- all were nonexistent concepts here.
Upon realizing just who it was that was approaching, Grimmjow paused in his steps and narrowed his eyes marginally, steely gaze harbouring little welcome in it.
The memory of her clashing with Nnoitra shortly after his defeat still bore starkly in his mind- needless to say, it was an incident that he held little fondness for.
"So they let you in too, huh?"
Ulquiorra found himself nodding in agreement, an action likely unanticipated by both Espada as the Cuarta and Sexta were both somewhat notorious for their inability to cooperate with one another on any level— much less on a matter so cumbersome as their perception of one another.
“If you were the type to, I’d expect to have no interest in you.” He murmured in a way that seemed as if he were speaking more to himself than Grimmjow.
Hands now tucked securely within the confines of his hakama pockets, Grimmjow bent down some, just enough so that he was at eye level with the higher-ranking Espada. Unlike most times when he had spoken to Ulquiorra where mockery, annoyance or even anger would be interwoven in his words, his query came out as just that. A simple question.
"Finally admitting that to yourself?"
Of course, his usual insufferable self confidence was still very much present.
“I wouldn’t have had you pegged as the type for sentimentalities— least of all over matters as trivial as this.” With his free hand, he’d make a vague gesture towards his torso, his other hand busy with zipping his jacket up to his chin.
“It’s rather unlike you, wouldn’t you say?”
"Probably," he said. Now, that was a sight that he had not seen in quite awhile now. Amusement, along with a predatory glint, sparked itself in striking eyes- quite subdued for now.
"I don’t live to meet anyone’s expectations, though."
Hi Grimmjow-san. How are you? *bows respectfully*
[Damned right. Know your place, ant.]
“Fine,” came his brusque answer as he eyed the other with disinterest. Weak and boring as the rest of ‘em.
“What the Hell dragged you in here?”