For Grimmjow, the recent invasion of the World of the Living was nothing but humiliation.
Following Aizen Sosuke's directive and participating in the operation planned by Hinamori Momo, he had rejoiced at fighting Kurosaki Ichigo again after a month. However, the pseudo-Shinigami he'd failed to finish off during his previous unauthorized action had acquired power great enough to bring the Sexta Espada to his knees with a single strike, even though Grimmjow had only one arm—and crushed him with ease.
But there would be no second time.
With his arm restored and no one to interfere under the main palace's grand dome, Grimmjow finally played his trump card of Resurrección to engage in an all-out death match.
"Now then—let's begin...!"
His form was that of the Panther King, gleaming silver-gray—speed and killing performance compressed into slender limbs. Ultimate bestial nature pursuing a single point—hunting prey—assaulted Kurosaki Ichigo.
"What's wrong? That can't be all you've got!"
『Tch, he's fast...!』
Before Grimmjow, who had undergone an evolution coincidentally similar to his own Bankai, Ichigo struggled. For Inoue behind him, he wanted to end this battle as quickly as possible. Her figure, frightened of him wearing the Hollow mask, cast a dark shadow over the boy's heart.
"Did you train, or did you get used to it through the battles so far? Either way, looks like your mask time increased—good for you."
『...』
"If it shatters after five seconds like last time... that'd be boring as hell!"
Grimmjow sealed Ichigo's Bankai in a clash with his left panther claws and aimed for his heart with his other five-clawed hand. But that extended right hand was crushed in the Shinigami's grip.
『...It'd be boring if the mask breaks?』
"Wha...!"
『Don't make me laugh!!』
His spiritual pressure surged. The last trace of softness vanished from his eyes—there stood Kurosaki Ichigo, transformed into a beast of murderous impulse.
『That's my line, Grimmjow. Because it'd be boring—don't you dare cancel that released state!』
Overpowering him, Ichigo slashed horizontally at the wide-eyed Espada. Bathed in blood gushing from his enemy's torn chest, Ichigo felt his heart freezing cold.
Each time he sensed the raging spiritual pressure of the Arrancar before him, Ichigo's battle impulse increased. Enlightened by the instinct-driven beast, he too transformed into a beast. Since becoming aware of and acknowledging that pleasure, the young man had noticed his power growing rapidly.
"Take this! Garra de la Pantera!"
"...! Inoue!!"
Both parties evaded the torrential attacks. But whether by chance or inevitability, the five elbow-launched projectiles that seemed to be Grimmjow's trump card rushed toward his companion who stood dazed in their path.
This wasn't an attack she could block with her Santen Kesshun. Ichigo desperately used Shunpo to shield Inoue, taking the lethal barrage on his back.
『...!』
Beyond the mask's eye holes, his gaze met the friend he wanted to save. What did Inoue's fear—pale-faced and frozen—truly dread? Without asking, her large trembling eyes were the complete answer.
The Ichigo reflected in those eyes lowered his face and returned to battle without a glance. To the fight with Grimmjow—a clash of bare instinct between beasts.
"You can save her if you want, but taking that hit wore you down pretty bad. Is your mask at its limit too?"
『Ha, who says so...! You look pretty worn out yourself.』
"Heh, sorry... you're seeing things!!"
Exchanging provocations in their renewed greeting, Shinigami and Hollow clashed without pause. Throwing himself into the principle ordained since ancient times, Ichigo's heart watched with sorrow as he fought with violence devoid of feelings or pride.
***
"Kurosaki..."
Masked Ichigo and Grimmjow, smashing their violent spiritual pressures against each other. Watching from atop the tower, Inoue Orihime felt intense fear at her beloved's unrecognizable appearance.
Every time she saw those dark eyes glimpsed behind that mask, Orihime remembered her late brother. That nightmare when her most beloved family member lost his heart and became a terrifying monster. Those stagnant pupils that pursued a lost fantasy, reflecting neither his sister who should have been precious to him nor his companions.
Orihime clutched her trembling body, desperately suppressing her trauma. His transformed appearance was meant to save her from a powerful enemy. And yet, I...
"Go for it! Itsugoo!"
At that moment, Orihime's ears caught a shout from beside her. It was Nel, the Arrancar girl's full-throated encouragement directed at the monster-like Ichigo fighting before them.
"What are you doing! You should cheer too!"
"...Huh?"
"'Huh?' nothing! Ichigo's fighting for you! So why are you scared of him!?"
Words that gouged at Orihime's painful conflict. As she could only lower her face in anguish, Nel pressed on.
Ichigo had gained Shinigami powers, even donning a mask to risk his life fighting to protect his precious friends. He, an ordinary high school student.
"That has to be painful!!"
"...!"
Fighting while bloodied for his friends, for her, even borrowing the power of an evil spirit that corroded his heart. That young man...
"If you don't cheer for him, who will!?"
The child's cry ran through Orihime's body.
And slowly, the girl looked at Ichigo's face in the distant death struggle with eyes clear of fear's stagnation. The face of the young man who came to save her—wounded, exhausted, coughing blood as he fought the powerful enemy.
...That's right.
Orihime remembered. At first, she just wanted to protect everyone—that's why she came here. She thought she'd steeled herself to betray her friends for that purpose. But when told they'd come to rescue her, some part of her heart had rejoiced. Even though she'd taken Ulquiorra's hand specifically to protect them from overwhelming enemies.
And then, seeing Ichigo wearing that mask with eyes like her brother who'd become a Hollow, she became afraid. Just as her brother had tried to devour his sister with predation masquerading as "love," perhaps Ichigo's claim of saving her was just an excuse—maybe he really just sought someone to unleash his hatred and impulses upon. Perhaps, as Grimmjow said, unlike the usual kind Kurosaki, his true purpose was simply fighting enemies itself.
She'd been thinking such foolish things all along.
(No...)
Pressing her crushing chest, Orihime began walking toward Ichigo one step, then another.
Her true feelings weren't that. Wanting to be saved, or becoming afraid of him—none of that should really matter...
"Looks like you've truly reached your limit."
『Haa... haa... damn it...!』
From the tower's edge, she could see Ichigo below, covered in wounds and swaying. His mask had fallen away halfway, and his spiritual pressure felt weak. Yet still clad in ominous power, the girl's beloved fought and bled.
"...don't..."
No. She wasn't afraid of Kurosaki. What she truly feared wasn't that.
What I'm really afraid of is...
"Don't die!!"
The girl's primal plea, filled with every emotion, echoed through Las Noches.
And once more, Orihime's gaze—crossing with Ichigo who turned around wide-eyed—met his. Their eyes remained unchanged: one frightening Hollow eyes, the other miserable human eyes holding fear.
"...You don't have to win... you don't have to try hard, so..."
But the girl's fear wasn't those eyes of his. Into their crossing gazes, Inoue Orihime placed a single, dream-like wish.
"Please... don't get hurt anymore..."
Kurosaki's gaze left the battlefield at his friend's plea. Not missing that opening, Grimmjow—certain of victory—raced across the desert on whip-like limbs and aimed his right claw strike precisely at the Shinigami's throat.
His spiritual pressure had dropped completely. His attention was scattered. Meanwhile, Grimmjow still had plenty left. This strike would end everything.
That was the absolute future clear to everyone's eyes.
But.
"...Sorry, Grimmjow."
"What...!?"
The Panther King's full-power strike was caught as easily as a ball in sports.
"Seems like I can't afford to take any more hits."
Thus Grimmjow found himself forced to his knees at the feet of the battered Kurosaki Ichigo, who wore a troubled smile, without understanding why.
***
Ah, why remember now? Those worthless words of defeat spoken by those cowards.
—Devour us, Grimmjow.
Gillian, the lowest-class Menos born from hundreds of Hollows mixing and melting together. Among them, rarely appeared those who maintained individuality despite merging. That Menos devoured other Menos and evolved into Adjuchas.
Those who became Adjuchas faced a further trial. To maintain their individuality, to demonstrate the primitive instinct of Hollows, they must eternally continue devouring their brethren—and if they stopped, they would irreversibly regress into Gillian, losing their individuality.
『You shall become our king.』
To ascend to the highest class, we need overwhelming power to lead us. Saying this, five Menos one day knelt before Grimmjow.
They became the Sexta Fracción—the pack's comrades who were slain by Kurosaki Ichigo and the other Shinigami last month.
"Don't... mess with me."
Whipping his heavy body, Grimmjow grabbed the enemy's black blade.
『What...!』
"You think you've won... against me!?"
A strike filled with resentment for making him remember such nonsense pierced deep into Kurosaki's flank. Spitting blood in shock, his eyes still gleamed with the light of hope.
"...You're always like this. No matter how much I beat you down, somewhere you're still thinking you'll win. That pisses me off!!"
Only a moment of flinching at Grimmjow's roar. Kurosaki parried his lightning-fast consecutive attacks while even having the composure to taunt back.
『Tch, ha! You can't stand being treated as equal by a mere human!?』
"Human, Shinigami, Arrancar—doesn't matter...! I'll crush every single bastard who looks down on me!"
Kicking the infuriating man's face, the Espada leaped high. Seeking power, seeking strength, glaring at the sky while striving solely upward.
"And you're first! Kurosaki Ichigoooo!!"
That was the insatiable Hollow's thirst of the beast called Panther King Grimmjow.
『—"Give up," you said?』
In the middle of a long journey.
One day—forgetting how many years dragged behind them—the pack's Menos suddenly said that. Following Shawlong the scorpion Menos who had always hunted energetically, Edrad the bull Menos also agreed.
『We've realized. We cannot become Vasto Lorde.』
They confessed that after devouring over a thousand Hollows, they stopped feeling power increases. Now having consumed three thousand, further effort was meaningless.
Perhaps those who can become the highest class and those who cannot were separated even before becoming Hollows. That was the conclusion the pack members reached.
Ridiculous. If you can't keep up, drop dead somewhere. About to leave alone after spitting those words, Grimmjow stopped at what Shawlong said next.
『Devour us and move forward.』
The stern, low male voice held resolve. Curious about the scorpion's true intentions that equaled death, the Panther King prompted him to continue with his back turned.
『Our fate was Adjuchas from birth. You are one who will advance beyond, Grimmjow.』
The sharp gleam behind that Western helmet-like mask was not that of a devotee offering himself as his king's sustenance. Nor was it gratitude or obligation for his past leadership. Such things weren't Hollow emotions.
He understood. They said "realized" first. Then this was the pride of a strong "individual" that had reached Adjuchas—trying to give meaning to their own deaths. Or perhaps it was beastly kinship cultivated as a pack, ensuring the species' survival.
Either way, disgustingly ridiculous.
All of them, nothing but cowards.
Fine. If they offered themselves, he'd devour them completely. No hesitation, no regret.
『I am... king!!』
Blood of his comrades dripping from his jaw, Grimmjow walked the desert looking up at the sky. As if to show those cowards who became his flesh and blood that "beyond"...
『Wh-what the hell... is that?』
Baring fangs at Kurosaki Ichigo's trembling voice, Grimmjow leaped into the air and swung down the massive spiritual pressure blades gleaming on his ten claws.
"Desgarrón... my strongest technique. This is your end, Kurosaki!!"
『Guh... uuuugh!!』
Five pairs of pale blue light tips collided with Kurosaki's zanpakuto and instantly blew him backward. Where he tumbled pathetically were his companions. Making Kurosaki strain himself by involving that woman had become something of a habit for Grimmjow.
But that action drew out Kurosaki Ichigo's final desperate strength.
"...You said I was 'first,' didn't you?"
"What?"
A dying Shinigami with his mask fallen away except the eye hole covering his right eye.
But.
"I'm—the same!!"
Thrusting his sword into one claw of Desgarrón and shattering it, his exposed left eye had become human.
"Just like you said, I came here to fight! To defeat you, Grimmjow!"
"Tch... damn it all!!"
At Kurosaki racing through the sky on spirit particle footholds, the Panther King unleashed his five-clawed spirit blades again.
"I'll defeat you! Defeat Ulquiorra too! And defeat Aizen!!"
"Impossible...!"
But even with Grimmjow's proud ultimate technique, the Shinigami wouldn't stop.
"And I'll bring back Rukia... Chad... Ishida... Renji... Inoue!"
Shattering Desgarrón like glass, Kurosaki Ichigo charged straight at him.
"I can't lose to just you!"
"Grimmjooow!!"
And the Panther King watched with resigned eyes acknowledging defeat as that blade reached his chest.
『—If I told you that you could aim for the "top" once more with the pack comrades you left uneaten... what would you do?』
...Ah, damn it.
Winner closest to the summit, yet always seeing through us defeated Hollows' hearts like back then—I hate you for that.
***
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