Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...
June 12th, 2011
So, the group leader says I should put my thoughts down on paper. Something about channeling my frustrations...whatever. I'm just doing this crap because this was my only other option that didn't include prison. Oh, you might wanna know what the hell I'm talking about right? Well here's the thing: I was minding my own fucking business at work, when this idiot that I just cannot stand, bumps my fucking light table (purposely, mind you), making me screw up a project I'd been working on for TWO WHOLE MONTHS!
Well, I guess you can imagine that that would piss me off pretty badly, so I did the first thing that came to mind: I calmly stood and shoved my fist down his fucking skinny little throat. Then, Keigo (that's the idiot's name) had the nerve to fucking press charges against ME, when HE'S the one that started the drama in the first place. Crazy, right? I say it's fucked up. There's no justice in the world anymore – not that there ever was. I'm just saying.
So, anyway...rather than go to jail for aggravated assault or some shit, I came here. Anger management. Big "HA" if you ask me. I don't have anger issues at all. I mean, sure I get pissed off when I don't like something and I do have a bad case of road rage, but...who doesn't? I don't think I need some misguided attempt at therapy for it. Besides, anyone put in that situation would've served Keigo a nice, cold fist, in my opinion.
Anyway, even my old man told me I have anger "problems" and need a proper outlet. I just really don't see how this stupid class – or whatever it is – is supposed to help with these "problems". Oh, well. No use complaining about shit now, since I'm already here. Might as well try to enjoy the experience. Haha. Yeah, right. Maybe I'll find a hot chick with anger "problems" and we can start a nice little angry family. HA!
I crack myself up, I swear.
Well, let me introduce you to the cast.
First, there's the insane "group leader", who I think needs to be in the class himself, but whatever. I don't run this place, so fuck it. Anyway, his name is Kenpachi Zaraki and he's about the size of three of me. Seriously. He's fucking tall as hell, probably around 6'6", but he appears to be ten feet. He's all muscle and then some, but that's not even the scariest part about the guy. His face is the stuff little kids' nightmares are made of – hell, adults too, for that matter. It's all sharp, angular and menacing-looking with a straight nose and thin lips. Then, there's the black eye patch he wears over his right eye and the long, paper-thin scar slicing through his left eye. His visible eye is gray and ominous like a thunder cloud and his hair...wow. Yeah, his hair is jet-black and he wears it slicked up into these outrageous fucking spikes. Insane.
Not someone you'd imagine as an anger management group leader, right?
I'm pretty sure Kenpachi is a lunatic, but who the hell am I to judge? Besides, this mountain of a guy has the cutest kid that he brings to all of the meetings or classes (whatever), claiming he doesn't have the time or money to look for a babysitter. She's five, has wide, innocent eyes, bright, bubble gum pink hair and way too much energy. Her name is Yachiru. Since the classes take place in the local elementary school, after-hours, Yachiru has enough to keep her somewhat occupied, although that doesn't stop her from annoying the hell out of Kenpachi, whom she calls "Kenny". I think it's hilarious seeing such a dangerous -looking guy being brought within arms-length of going nuts. And by a five-year old, no less.
Now, let's get to my peers, yes?
We all sit in a circle like a bunch of hippies, which Kenpachi says "Gives out positive vibes and shit". His words, not mine. Anyway, since we're all in this circle, it's pretty easy to see everyone. We all had to go through the absolutely excruciating ordeal of introducing ourselves and explaining why we were enrolled in an anger management class. Actually, it was kind of funny. We've got some class clowns already.
Such as, to my immediate right sits a guy named Renji Abarai. He's so obviously a loud-mouth, but it's hilarious because he can't get along with a dark-haired slip of a woman that sits across from him. They argue like an old married couple and, if you ask me, all that yelling and arguing is just foreplay. They want each other.
Anyway, back to Renji. He's tall; taller than me, for sure. I'd say he's around 6'2" and pretty muscular. I guess that comes from him playing basketball, which he doesn't hesitate to bring up at any opportunity he gets. He must be good though because when Kenpachi isn't telling him to shut the fuck up, he's asking him questions about the college he attends and their upcoming games. Renji has bright red (think fire engine red) hair and these weird, tribal tattoos that start at his eyebrows, travel down the sides of his neck and disappear underneath the collar of his dark-blue t-shirt. His legs are long (not that I like that sort of thing, you understand) and clad in a pair of dark-blue basketball shorts. He's wearing a pair of black, high-top sneakers and black ankle socks. His legs are sprinkled with fine, crimson hairs and he smells like rubber, which I'm assuming comes from handling a basketball on a daily basis. Renji's reason for being in an anger management class is because he was a little too rough with a player from one of his opposing teams and his coach wants to avoid having the idiot suspended from any future games.
Beside Renji is a short, white-haired guy named Toshiro Hitsugaya. I swear, I thought he was a kid until he spoke and his fucking voice was deeper than mine. He has these big, innocent, teal eyes that totally throw you off of his real age, which happens to be thirty-two. I kid you not. The guy probably comes up to the middle of my chest. Well, anyway, he scowls more than I do and that's really saying something, since I think I scowl all the fucking time. He wins hands down, though. He doesn't speak unless spoken to and his reason for being in this lovely anger management class is because his secretary at work drives him beyond the brink of madness and to the point of near physical violence. Some chick named Rangiku. Toshiro's age only shows in what he's wearing, which is a pair of khaki pants and a short-sleeved, green, polo shirt, all of the buttons buttoned.
Next to him sits probably the funniest guy I've ever met, Nnoitra Jiruga. He's taller than Kenpachi, but thin as a reed. He also has black hair that he wears loose around his narrow shoulders and he sports a white bandana around his head. It covers his left eye and adds a stark contrast to his dark hair. His right eye is slitted and a deep violet color and he always wears a wide, piano-key toothed grin. He's sarcastic and rude as hell, but that's what makes him funny, in my opinion. He really doesn't give a shit what he says and Kenpachi can't stand his ass. Nnoitra is wearing a black wife-beater, white, board shorts and a pair of black and white athletic flip-flops. His legs resemble baseball bats, that's how skinny the guy is, but he's tough as hell and favors a small switchblade. Nnoitra's taking anger management because he has two strikes on his job record for beating up customers at the car wash he works and his boss told him he would get fired and sent to jail the next time it happened. When Nnoitra revealed his switchblade in class, the following scene made me nearly wet myself in laughter.
Nnoitra was slumped in his blue, plastic chair, glaring across the room at a dark-haired girl that had just insulted him. Not the girl that Renji was always arguing with; there was another one that was a little taller and tougher-looking. He had called her a dyke and she had followed his lead and called him a dickless bean pole. After sizing one another up, Nnoitra had whipped out a small, black switchblade and started toying with it, his wide grin out in full force.
"What the fuck is yer problem? No weapons, remember?" Kenpachi grunted and held his hand out for said weapon.
Nnoitra sneered and closed his hand around the closed blade, "Like hell. Ya think I'm really gonna hand over mah property ta the likes a'you?"
Kenpachi narrowed his visible eye and leaned back in his seat, folding his arms across his broad chest, "Look, ya lil' fuck-boy, gimme the blade and I wont have ta kick yer slinky ass," he stated calmly.
Nnoitra gave his wide grin and stood to his full height, "I was jus' fuckin' witcha, sexy. Ya know I love ya," he responded as he ambled over to Kenpachi and handed him the knife.
"Shutup, dumbass!" Kenpachi snapped as he snatched the small weapon, making Nnoitra cackle like the wicked witch in that American movie The Wizard of Oz. Nnoitra made his way back to his seat and caught Kenpachi's one-eyed glare, blowing him a kiss as he did so.
This is what makes Nnoitra so funny. I don't know if the guy really is gay and has a thing for the huge group leader, but the fact that he didn't mind stating it out loud for the world to hear is pure comedic gold. I couldn't stop laughing after hearing that little exchange.
Anyway, I got way off topic. Let's get back to the roster.
Nnoitra sits next to a short, blonde firecracker named Hiyori. She makes it very clear that there is definitely a reason she needs anger management. Her attitude is horrible. She's wearing an orange, sleeveless, zip-up hoodie with matching capri-styled sweats and a pair of white flip-flops. She explained her reason for being there in the anger management class is because of her older brother, Shinji, who she has a habit of abusing when he pisses her off. Hiyori is only sixteen, so her mother is forcing her to attend, or be sent to a special school for trouble-making teens.
Hiyori sits next to the dark-haired girl that Renji argues with all the time. Her name is Rukia Kuchiki and she's the smallest thing (next to Hiyori and Toshiro) that I've ever seen, but her mouth certainly makes up for it. She has a gruff alto that makes her seem rather tomboy-ish. She's wearing a pink and yellow, summer dress with a picture of a white rabbit on the front and a pair of white, low-top sneakers. Her dark hair is shoulder-length and she has huge, dark-blue eyes. I don't find her appealing, but hey, to each his own, right? Her reason for being in anger management is because she lashes out at others due to an imposing, older brother and said imposing, older brother is the one that's making her attend. Vicious cycle.
Next to Rukia is Kenpachi, then beside him is a bald guy with a wide smirk. His name is Ikkaku Madarame and his reason for being in an anger management class is because he's overly violent at his job, which is teaching kendo. He's wearing a short-sleeved, red t-shirt, light-blue jeans with a pair of black flip-flops and he doesn't really say much, but he laughs a lot.
Beside Ikkaku is the dark-haired girl that got into it with Nnoitra. Her name is Tatsuki Arisawa and she's probably a tomboy too. She's wearing a white karate gi with a black belt and a pair of black sneakers. When Kenpachi asked her why she was wearing a karate gi, she claimed she had been coming from training and didn't have time to change. She also has a gruff kind of voice, but she isn't as aggressive with it as Rukia. Her reason for being in anger management is because her girlfriend (guess Nnoitra was right) says she fights too much and tends to use her expertise in karate in areas unnecessary. I find that funny.
Tatsuki sits next to another huge guy named Yammy Riyalgo. Yammy is around the same size and height as Kenpachi, but he's brown-skinned and wears his black hair in five neat cornrows. His outfit is simple: a tight, white, short-sleeved t-shirt, black jeans and a pair of black, Timberland construction boots (even though it's like eighty-five degrees outside). Yammy doesn't talk at all, so no one knows why he's in anger management. Even Kenpachi didn't want to bother with trying to pry the information from the guy.
Next to Yammy is an empty seat and then the circle comes to a close with me. I refused to dress up for this place, so I'm wearing a short-sleeved, purple t-shirt that has a picture of a pile of spaghetti and the words "spaghetti is love" underneath it on the front. I didn't feel like ironing, so my dark-blue jean shorts are slightly wrinkled and on my feet are a pair of purple, black and white Nike Dunks. I'm comfortable and glad the class is nearly over.
Kenpachi makes us talk for an hour and then we have to write in these stupid notebooks for another hour. I feel so emasculated, it's ridiculous. I'm a man; I don't need to write in a fucking diary and no matter how much Kenpachi tries to call them "journals", they're fucking diaries. This is an unwelcome addition to the class that he springs on us after a week of attending. What type of shit is that?
Oh, wait...Kenpachi's yelling. Did Nnoitra do something again? No, not this time. There's a guy...that just entered the classroom...I guess he was lost, since that's what he just said. He and Kenpachi are arguing and this guy is giving him a run for his money. He's on terms with Nnoitra, minus the gay innuendos.
"Who the fuck're you?" Kenpachi snapped.
New guy frowns and stares Kenpachi down before finally asking, "Is this the anger management class?"
"Yeah. Who the fuck're you and why the fuck're ya late? Class is almost over."
"I got lost. I ain't from around here."
Kenpachi doesn't like this and makes it known, "Well, ya might as well leave. I don't take shit from people who can't even follow the rules."
New guy's frown deepens as he again stares at Kenpachi. This time he speaks in English, "Fuckin' asshole. It's not like I wanna be here ta begin with."
It's Kenpachi's turn to frown, "What'd ya just say ta me?"
New guy switches back to Japanese, "I said yer a fuckin' asshole and I didn't ask ta be here in the first goddamned place."
Kenpachi grins and points at the empty seat beside me, "Welcome ta anger management. What's your name?"
New guy is obviously puzzled at Kenpachi's behavior, but moves to the seat anyway, "Grimmjow. Grimmjow Jaegerjaques," he grunts.
Kenpachi nods and glances at the clock above the door to the medium-sized classroom, "Well, we got about ten minutes left. Ya wanna share why ya need ta take an anger management class?"
Grimmjow (what the hell kind of name is that?) shoots uncertain looks in everyone else's direction and for the brief second his eyes locked with mine, I felt like I'd stuck Nnoitra's switchblade in an electrical outlet. "Nah, not really. Kinda personal."
Kenpachi sighs, but doesn't force the issue. Silence reigns and gives me a chance to take a good look at the guy seated beside me. He has bright blue hair that appears as if it's never met a comb or brush, but at the same time seems controlled. It doesn't make sense, I know, but neither does his hair. It's an enigma and it seems to suit him. His eyes are intense and an impossible shade of blue. His nose is straight and his lips are full...
I'm not gay, trust me.
Grimmjow is pretty tall as well. He's definitely taller than me, but nowhere near as tall as Nnoitra or Kenpachi. I'd say he's around 6'3". His muscles scream "don't fuck with me" and his skin is tanned and flawless.
Again, I'm NOT gay.
He's wearing a form-fitting, short-sleeved, white polo shirt, the buttons at the neck undone, a pair of khaki, cargo shorts and all-white, low-top Nike Air Force One sneakers. Although his clothes make him seem harmless, his aura says otherwise. His voice is a gruff baritone and he smells like fresh air and soap.
I'm really NOT gay.
I'm peeking at him from the corner of my eye and I notice that he's quietly observing his surroundings. His eyes flit from one person to the next as if he's sizing them up. Then, his stunning blue eyes land on me and I avert my gaze. I can't let him know that I was just watching him watch others. My skin prickles and the hair on my arms and neck stand up.
Grimmjow is leaning towards me.
"Yo, what's yer name?" he asks softly, his deep voice rumbling.
I glance at him, wondering what the hell he wants, "Ichigo."
"Eh? Ya shittin' me er what?"
I bristle. This topic has been the bane of my entire existence for as long as I can remember. I knew what was coming next, but I tried to deny the inevitable for a bit longer, "No, I'm not shittin' you. Ichigo is my name."
"...Yer sayin' yer parents named ya after a fruit? That's kinda fucked up."
I shake my head, trying not to become the asshole I knew I was capable of becoming, "They didn't name me after the fruit. It means something else," I stated with finality, hoping that Grimmjow would get the hint.
"So what's it mean then?" he asks and I turn to face him fully, not quite sure that it's a good idea once I've done it.
Grimmjow is smirking and his teeth are shiny and white and I suddenly can't breathe. His canines are a little sharper than the average human being, but his smile is devastating. And not in a bad way.
Fuck this. I'm not gay!
"Nunna your business," I snap childishly and turn away, shivering slightly at the sound of his quiet chuckle.
"That's a first," he mumbles and I can't help but turn wide eyes in his direction.
Is he serious?
His blue eyes are practically dancing with mischief when he smirks and leans towards me again, "Yer named after a fruit, ain't ya? S'ok, you can go ahead and admit it."
'ASSHOLE!' is what I scream internally, but outwardly all I can do is silently fume.
"So, Ichigo, if yer named after a fruit, does that make ya one?" he continues and I swear I wanna rip his pretty blue hair from his head.
I decide the safest route would be to ignore him, but alas, he strikes another nerve.
"Oi, are ya a virgin?"
I am, in fact, NOT a fucking virgin, but his outlandish question makes me blush and he gets the wrong idea.
"So, I take it ya are. Ya know, that's pretty lame."
I can't take it anymore and I snap. I snarl, "Fuck you!" and punch the asshole in the face. The mouth to be exact.
Grimmjow is stunned and sits blinking at me for all of three seconds before he's on me and we're rolling around on the floor like a couple of five-year olds. There is laughter and Kenpachi is yelling, but I only vaguely register these things because I'm completely focused on getting my hands around this blue-haired prick's neck.
Let's just say things don't always turn out the way we'd like.
Grimmjow grabs the front of my t-shirt and head-butts me, making me see stars. I pause, trying to gain my bearings, but then I'm rolled over and Grimmjow is on top of me, pressing against me and breathing hard. We both are, but his breath is coming in short bursts through his bared teeth as he glares down at me, blood easing from the corner of his mouth.
And for the life of me, I don't want him to move.
This thought alone spurs me into action. I shove his chest, but he's stronger than me and weighs more too, so he doesn't move. His chest is firm and solid and I can feel his heart thudding beneath my hand. A wide smirk blooms across his features and he's rearing back to punch me, when Kenpachi lifts him off of me.
Thank kami for small favors.
I sit up and stare at him as he's being scolded by Kenpachi. He's not paying a bit of attention to the group leader, instead staring right back at me, still wearing that huge, excited smirk. I don't know what the fuck to do other than stand and re-take my seat, but then Kenpachi is saying we can all go home now.
So, 'til next time, I suppose.