Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach
And there they go again. To tell the truth, I'm finding it difficult to take in the whole of this…rather, I'm refusing to. They've been at it for a lifetime, perhaps, which pretty much goes to show they don't get tired of each other, or can't get enough of each other. Basically, with the physical blows one is receiving from the other, both are bound to spend the night and beyond in caskets if they don't quit it now. And to think that this show of violence is exactly the sort of entertainment they derive from a video game, maybe they really are stronger than me, captain of Gotei 13's 10th Division. I hope not.
"Hey, if you two are trying to pound each other to dusts, better not use a crappy set of entertainment system as an excuse." I tell Kurosaki Ichigo and Grimmjow Jaggerjack.
Ichigo presses a button, instantly pausing the game, to which Grimmjow turns to throw him a murderous glance. Ichigo, however, is staring at me, balancing his gaze between disbelief and annoyance.
"Crappy? Entertainment system? This is a Nintendo Wii, Toushiro, something that's more than a lifeless piece of electronic junk. This is lifestyle, man."
After what seems like a death threat across his face, he resumes their phony boxing match which wouldn't have implied any difference if they'd just chucked the damn controllers out the window and literally punched the lights out of each other. But to tackle the point of my confusion over their relationship, I first have to ask why they can't seem to stay the fuck away from each other. Of course, they do gain some sort of satisfaction from incurring injuries among themselves, and throwing puny insults to your nemesis from time to time doesn't sound too boring or devoid of pleasure. But, still, those can't be the only reasons, can they?
And now Grimmjow elbows the inglorious substitute shinigami out of the carpet, to commence what he knows best; a brawl, except that this one is as petty as a pair of toddlers on each other's neck on a hockey game. Naturally, an elbow match won't remain as it is in so long as someone like Grimmjow or Kurosaki is involved, so by the time the ex-Espada managed to heave himself on top of my infantile comrade I decide to wrench them apart, for convenience as I'm really having difficulties with focusing on the morning paper.
"Jeez, go get a goddamn room already." I suggest.
Ichigo brushes himself up, panting, and snarls at his archrival,
"That's right. Let's go to my room; I'll beat the fucking hell out of you. You and me. Tekken 6, asshole."
"Are you sure? And who's it gonna be? Jin Kazama? Lame-ass shit as always." Grimmjow answers to the challenge.
I can't speak for anybody else, that's for sure, but if their solution to this is to lock themselves in a room with yet again another set of video game console, I suppose retardation is something I shouldn't try to counter considering how pointless it is for someone of my size to stand between these two.
When they have gone, I begin to wonder if they're only doing this for some kind of excitement that's altogether more adult if perhaps less healthy, in which case they'd appear much cooler than what their general stature may have been offering to the public eye. And then it occurs to me that they're too simple-minded to come up with such game plan.
Although I wouldn't advise it, I employ my impeccable hearing nonetheless if only to know what's to take place when these to tuck themselves within four closely distanced walls. In my attempt I realize that the task scarcely requires any degree of dexterity beyond human capabilities. So at this point I know I'm old enough to be exempted from parental guidance in matters of severe expletives, but perhaps not exploited enough to stomach the word 'fuck' every so often, as in the case of the two.
"I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you, I swear." I can hear Kurosaki say.
"All talk for someone who can't land one fucking decent hit. Told ya your Jin's a pussy." Grimmjow retorts.
Just how possible, if I may ask, is it to detest someone and be inseparable from said person at the same time? Kurosaki is demonstrating just that, though only in a subtle way. Now that I think of it, it has only been two weeks since Grimmjow turned over to our side after quite a moment of negotiations, perhaps finally determining he was out of options anyway. But from then I'd dare say he's been entirely easy to manage, unless of course if you count his tendencies to kick up a fuss on certain issues, particularly ones whose bottom line goes something like 'Kurosaki is a moron and a wuss'. This now leads me to another thought no less idiotic than what these two are conveying to a sensible person like me; why the hell can't Grimmjow keep away from Kurosaki as well?
If I asked both, that would make me a prying son of a gun, and being the hypocritical juveniles that they are they won't feel embarrassed to argue my point. Instead, they'll deny it right on smack, even if all that was missing between them was an engagement ring, and push the issue forward as a reason to beat each other again.
Just when I begin to flip another page off, Kurosaki comes darting out the room with no special haste. I hear him announce,
"I'll go get soda from the convenience store. If ya want one, hand me your cash now." He tells his nemesis.
I fail to hear the Espada make an immediate response to this, at least not a verbal one at that. Instead, I hear a sharp clanking sound issue from the door which indicates he's chucked the coins right at the door.
"Beer for me."
"Beer your ass, moron. But then again, maybe you'll get better on the controller when stoned.
Really, a normal conversation might as well be extinct between these two. In any case, Ichigo gathers the coins on the floor and turns to leave. Upon reaching the front door, his nemesis emerges from the room.
"I'm coming with you."
That just about blows me over.
This last exchange was something of an accomplishment towards civility, or they're trying to pull my leg for the hell of it. Just what is wrong with these two?
After minutes of waiting, more for info rather than for any serious interest, I see Ichigo appear in the doorway, alone.
"I bought you Doritos." He tells me, and heads toward the kitchen, "I'm stuffing them in the cupboard. Don't tell Grimmjow; the bastard shoves them in his mouth faster than a rabbit gets fucked. When he arrives, tell him I'm taking a damn piss or Doritos are but a shadow for us."
I nod at him. Seconds later, Grimmjow arrives, a can of beer in hand. He looks around the living room, his eyes searching. I study him carefully, careful enough to get the whole of this insoluble puzzle falling into places. Yeah, this has gone long and painful enough. I have to open my mouth once in a while, don't I?
"Your boyfriend just passed by. He's in the kitchen." I inform the ex-Espada, stressing the second word with heavy emphasis, I swear.
Grimmjow blinks at me and swivels his head towards the direction I pointed.
"Oh." He mutters, before darting toward the kitchen, "Hey, Ichigo, I know you're in there!"
Boyfriend, I said and he didn't even bother to clear something up, much less correct my term. Just what the fuck. I'm out.