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A Bandit's Prize

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Smoke danced in the air and a wild grin spread across Grimmjow's face as he sliced down another villager. The agonizing scream that the farmer let out made his blood pump and adrenaline rush through his veins. The wife of the villager collapsed on the floor in despair next to her pathetic husband who didn’t even try to put up a fight for her and their child, who looked to be only a few years old.

Grimmjow spat, it was pathetic how the sorry excuse for a man begged for his life. The wife was better off without him, she was young enough too which made her useful. The baby however…

Another bandit rode up on his horse with a sword swung over his shoulder lazily and a couple wolves following close behind, their mouths stained red.

“Enjoying yourself, Starrk?”

“Not as much as you it seems.”

Grimmjow reached over and clutched the widows hair within his fist, her back brushing against his own black stallion, the horse starting slightly due to the sudden movement. Her hands shot up and clutched around Grimmjow's wrist in hopes that he would release her probably, but unfortunately for her she wasn’t very strong, and Grimmjow intended to parade her around the village until their raid was over.

“What do ya think of this one, aye Starrk? You’re inta bitches with black hair right.” Grimmjow waved the woman's head from side to side as he jeered. The woman was crying desperately but didn’t put up much of a fight. Tsk, just like her pathetic husband.

“No thanks, she’s all yours, buddy.” Stark rolled his shoulders as he glanced towards the villagers house, spotting a tiny figure clutching at the doorway. “Hey, there's a kid.”

Grimmjow scoffed but followed Starrks gaze to the little girl. She looked more pissed off than scared which slightly impressed him, but she was too damn young to even speak probably. Neither them nor the slave market would have much use for a thing like that. “Feed her to your dogs or some shit. I don’t really give a damn, she’s useless.”

“N-No please!” the widow cried out, eyes frantically trying to get a glimpse at the man that killed her husband.

“Tsk, shut the fuck up, ya used up bitch. If it weren’t for yer looks then you’d be as cold as your husband over there. So consider yourself lucky.” Grimmjow yanked the woman’s head so she was looking at her husband's corpse. The woman cried out again, her spirit obviously breaking down, much to Grimmjow's dissatisfaction. He hated when they broke too easily. It was always a fucking drag to watch that glint in their eye fade away when Grimmjow hardly even did anything to them. It would make shit a lot more fun if just someone tried to at least put up a fight. Of course there would always be one or two farmers that would pretend to be warriors, but in the end they always weren’t much. Just temporary fun for the blue haired menace.

“This village was a fuckin waste.” Grimmjow spits. Starrk only hums as his eyes are still stuck on the little girl clinging to her doorway- speaking of which, “Starrk, burn the house down after yer done with the runt. We’re turning this pathetic village to fucking ash.”

With only a parting nod to his comrade, Grimmjow rode off to fulfill his promise on the small village, the widow's hair still bound tightly within his hand and dragged across her burning village for all the upcoming victims to see.

 

Later that night

The village’s fate only took an hour. And in that hour the gang of bandits gathered every able body that was at least worth something and looted their belongings, which weren’t much. The bound captives were herded like sheep through the thick forest as the thieves made their way, away from the wreckage. One or two villagers tried to make an escape but they were struck down quickly by an arrow. Their bodies left to be trampled on by the horses. This would serve as a warning to the rest of them, that if they tried to escape then death would be quick to follow.

Grimmjow huffed. This group was a lot more obedient than some that they’ve had in the past. Which technically was a good thing, but sure as hell boring. The villagers only quietly murmured to one another instead, fear evident in their hushed voices but Grimmjow had to hand it to them for keeping their composer while literally in the middle of an army of bandits.

There were only about 20 villagers left by the time they set up camp. Out of a village of around 300. Grimmjow sat down in front of a bonfire pit, staring into its flames as he mulled over the events of the day. Whatever,they’ll gather more on their next run.

“Ow! You stupid litte bitch!”

“Doctor!”

A commotion towards the human cattle caught his attention. The darkness made it hard to see what exactly was going on but he could see Nnoitra raise his fist in anger before slamming it down, a woman’s scream stretched across the camp.

Grimmjow stood up and leisurely made his way over, Nnoitra continuously pounding on the poor son of a bitch that pissed him off. However, Nnoitra did step back as Grimmjow stood before them, but not before spitting on the beaten villager. “The son of a bitch bit me!” The lanky man spat, pointing an accusing finger which Grimmjow followed to a bloody set of orange hair.

The most beautiful pair of fiery brown eyes locked on Grimmjow, blood dripping down from the forehead and over a straight nose then down towards an equally beautiful scowling lips. As the blood reached the boys mouth, a pink tongue subconsciously stuck out and licked at it. Grimmjow had never been as hard as he was right now from just looking at the display. The boy was attractive, more than attractive actually. If someone were to tell him that the ginger came straight from Zeus’s nutsack then Grimmjow would believe it without a second doubt.

The feral grin creeped onto Grimmjow's face as he held the gingers gaze. Fire. This kid was the very definition of it and Grimmjow couldn’t tame the pure giddyness that he felt. In one swift motion, the front of the boy’s shirt was in Grimmjow’s grasp and the boy was lifted up from his kneeling position so he was nose to nose with the blue haired bandit. The gingers expression didn’t falter, he still seemed like he could go toe to toe with the bandit if he was pushed.

So let's push him.

“Now why did ya go and bite ol’ Nnoitra here? Did he kill yer wife or some shit.” No reaction. Grimmjow glanced down at the boys hands and didn’t spy any band on any of his fingers. “Guess that’s not it. Maybe yer just stupid enough to bite someone who can easily kill ya-”

“Ptoo”

Grimmjow’s mouth snapped shut on impulse. He could feel his face grow hot in rage as he tasted the boys spit that was shot in his mouth. Everything around them went silent, nobody even dared to breathe at that moment as Grimmjow tried to burn holes into the bastard with his eyes. A small smirk twitched onto the boy's face, obviously trying to keep a full blown shit eating grin from forming.

“I’ll fucking kill you”

The ginger was thrown to the floor with a hard thud. A villager or two called out his name in worry.

Mr. Kurosaki huh.

The commotion was causing some bandits nearby to circle around them to observe the scene before them, jeering for Grimmjow to ‘get him. Teach him a lesson’. Grimmjow ignored the audience as he crouched down in front of the so-called doctor. “Well, Mr. Kurosaki, you sure as hell got some fucking balls on you” He spat out, Kurosaki still scowling at him with tight lips. Grimmjow had enough of the bastards silence, he stood up and kicked the boys leg with just enough strength to get his point across, “Stand the fuck up.”

The orangette didn’t need to be told twice. He was up on his feet in a second and naturally took on a defensive stance. The feral grin returned to Grimmjow's face, he knew this kid was a fighter. Grimmjow untied the sword that he kept around his waist and threw it to the side, not bothering to care where it landed. He mimicked Kurosaki’s stance, raising his fists to get ready for the assault. Kurosaki was ready and his eyes looked just as intense as Grimmjows. The crowd grew bigger as people jittered with the buzz of a brawl.

Grimmjow moved first and his fist connected to Kurosaki’s left cheek. The boy stumbled back before brushing the back of his hand against the bruising cheek. He had a certain gleam in his eye as he looked at Grimmjow. The look of a warrior. Grimmjow rushed at him again, but this time Kurosaki side stepped and attempted to swipe Grimmjow’s feet from under him. But Grimmjow was faster. He managed to maneuver just in time to grab the ginger by his arm and yank. The boy used the given momentum to slam his body against Grimmjow’s and make them both stumble, but neither body made contact with the ground. Grimmjow saw Kurosaki’s fist coming and made to block the attack, but a swift kick to the side was delivered to the bandit instead. Grimmjow lost his grip on the boy and tried to regain his footing, only to have the force of Kurosaki slam into him once again. A foot made contact with his ankle and a surprised look flashed on his face as his back hit the ground. A triumphant Kurosaki stood over him, and it would have pissed him off if it wasn’t for the fact that the cocky son of a bitch was open. Grimmjow grabbed a nearby stone and chucked it, hitting the once smug ginger’s shoulder. Grimmjow took advantage of the wince Kurosaki made and wasted no time getting back to his feet and connecting his knuckles to the boy's jaw.

“Bastard” Kurosaki spat out the blood that filled his mouth.

“Ah, so you can speak,” Grimmjow mocked, still alert and not dropping his fighting stance.

Kurosaki glared at him, the back of his hand still pressed to his lips. The scene nearly made Grimmjow’s dick twitch and images of the other expressions the boy could make flashed before Grimmjow’s eyes. He moved slowly, circling the boy. Kurosaki observed Grimmjow with caution, which caused the grin on Grimmjow’s face to grow wider as he anticipated another attack.

“Doctor!”

A woman’s voice called out, interrupting the two blood thirsty men. The smile that was on Grimmjow’s face vanished instantly upon hearing the shrill voice of the villager. It caused Kurosaki to take his eyes off of Grimmjow and look towards the woman that called out to him, holding her son in her arms and he shook violently. The mother's eyes were wild as she looked between Kurosaki and Grimmjow, terror set in as she saw the sure rage that graced the bandits face for interrupting their fight. But what pissed Grimmjow off even more was the fact that Kurosaki had the gall to look away from him.

“Eyes on me, Doctor” Grimmjow lunged at Kurosaki, and once again his fist made contact with Kurosaki’s jaw. Kurosaki hit the ground but didn’t make a move to get up right away. Grimmjow stood still, breathing heavily as he looked down on him. But the boy didn’t look at him, instead his attention was still on the woman and her kid. Kurosaki brushed himself off and wiped the blood from his face before making his way to the pair.

This pissed Grimmjow off beyond belief.

He grabbed a fist full of the orange hair and yanked Kurosaki backwards. Without letting go, Grimmjow brought Kurosaki face first to the floor and held him there with his knee.

The ginger didn’t struggle as much as Grimmjow had hoped. Instead, Kurosaki moved his head to glare at him as best he could, “Let go of me.”

“Yer fuckin’ funny if ya think you can order me around like that. We’re not done here.” Grimmjow tightened his grip on the boy's hair, making him wince.

“I’m done, I won’t fight you anymore just… please let me help them.”

“Excuse tha fuck outta me? You’re done when I say you’re done.” Grimmjow shoved the gingers face deeper into the dirt, his face getting cuts due to the tiny rocks that litter the ground. He released the orange locks from his grip and stood up to tower over the boy, who still laid against the dirt ground and didn’t seem to make any move to comply with Grimmjow’s wishes. Grimmjow's blood was sizzling at the defiance, “Get up” he demanded, giving a kick to Kurosaki’s side just like the boy did to him earlier.

Kurosaki grunted, but did as he was ordered. Although he didn’t take on his defensive stance as Grimmjow had hoped, instead he only gifted Grimmjow a glance before making his way over to the sick kid once again.

Grimmjow had never been so pissed before in his life. He was a second away from beating this bastard until he was crying and begging Grimmjow for mercy. And Grimmjow had every intent of carrying that plan out if it wasn’t for a firm hand that reached out to rest on his shoulder, halting him.

Grimmjow’s wild blue eyes met Starrks stormy ones. Starrk shook his head, “Lets see what the kid can do."

Normally, Grimmjow didn’t listen to anybody and he sure as hell didn’t take orders very well. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in how the orangette would handle the obviously possessed kid that was currently shaking uncontrollably in his mother's arms.

Kurosaki knelt down in front of the nearly hysterical mother and her son. His eyes went soft as he placed a hand on the mother's shoulder and gently moved her son's head to the side, “Just like that. Keep his head in your lap and don’t try to restrain him, and make sure his head is always turned like this so he doesn’t suffocate in case he vomits.”

“I-I don’t understand. We tried to have a priest help him but nothing worked. How can we stop this.” The mother rocked back and forth as she spoke, eyes shifting between Kurosaki and her son.

“He’s not possessed, ma’am, he’s having a seizure. Unfortunately I don’t know a cure for this, I just know how to help him get through it. You’ll just have to let the fit pass.” Kurosaki spoke calmly and diligently, keeping his voice level and held direct eye contact with the mom the entire time. He kept her from becoming truly hysterical, which was good news for her because Grimmjow was an inch away from killing both her and her defective son.

Sure enough, the boy did calm down and continued to rest his head on his mother's lap while she stroked his bangs off his face. The general atmosphere seemed to lighten as if the villagers forgot that they were being held captive and eventually sold as slaves during the market trade. But here everyone was, calmly sitting around the doctor and the once distressed mother and her son.

Until Grimmjow brought a sword down onto the defective kid's chest, his blood splattering his mother and the doctor that sat just over him.

The calm was dissipating, but the quiet was still there. The sound of shock. But shock only lasted for so long and soon the shrilling screech of the mother could be heard from all throughout the forest.

“You son of a bitch.” Kurosaki ground out. His eyes burning with so much intense hatred that it made Grimmjow think he hit an all time record of how pissed a person can be.

“What? You said there wasn’t a cure. So I made one.” Nobody would have bought a teen that had fits anyway, all it would have done was cause problems and slow them down. And the group of bandits couldn’t have that liability on their hands.

Grimmjow looked at the screaming mother, who had her son's head clasped in her hands. She was too damn loud, if she decided to keep on giving Grimmjow a headache then he’d cut her down too.

Kurosaki seemed to read his mind because he moved to become a human shield for the woman. Arms stretched out and the same pissed off look on his face.

“Move, Doctor, or else i’ll cut your ass down too.”

But the boy didn’t move. He just held Grimmjow's gaze. Challenging him. Mocking him.

Grimmjow had had enough of this shit. It was getting old real fast and the bitch was giving him a headache with her crying. If Kurosaki didn’t move then that was his own stupid ass fault and they’d both perish.

“Grimmjow, no” Starrks even voice was just behind him. Grimmjow grit his teeth, the lazy ass was getting too ahead of himself, thinking he could give Grimmjow two commands on the same day. Grimmjow would only let shit like that slide if he liked you, and Starrk only barely made that list. Ignoring him, Grimmjow started to raise his sword, getting ready to strike the orangette down. But the firm hand once again halted his movement, calloused fingers wrapping around the bluenettes wrist. Grimmjow whipped his head to the side and looked back at Stark, no doubt his image looked like a madman, madman with an intense need to slaughter. But Starrk didn’t react to the mad look in his eyes, instead he closed his own and shook his head. “Hear me out, that kid is a doctor right? Think of how much money that’s going to bring us."

He had a point. Anyone with a talent always went for a high coin, so it’ll be a huge loss if the ginger was killed. And if nobody had an interest in buying a doctor, then Kurosaki’s looks would have the potential buyers scrambling for their pockets. Besides, Grimmjow was also interested to know what the boy's insides felt like.

Grimmjow yanked his wrist out of Starrks grasp and peered down at Kurosaki who still insisted on using his body to shield the woman and her son’s now lifeless corpse. With his anger now dissipated, Grimmjow looked the boy over again, analyzing every toned muscle, freckle, and light scars on the boy’s skin. The way his eyes burned with such intensity made the inside of Grimmjow's pants stir. Damn, he’s never been so hot and bothered by someone before, and the kid got some spunk too. Seems like god was looking at him after all since he was so kind to finally send down something worth Grimmjow's time.

Grimmjow crouched down in front of Kurosaki, which made the boy’s body stiffen as if he was preparing himself for- well- anything Grimmjow could have done.

“Let’s make a deal,” Grimmjow’s breath purposely fanned over the orangettes face. They were so close that if Grimmjow leaned in just a little, then their noses would have brushed together. Kurosaki didn’t move nor did he respond, but Grimmjow could see the curious look in his eyes, so he continued, “This whores life, for your name.”

“What?” Kurosaki was confused, rightfully so, along with nearly everyone else in the vicinity. The number of bandits that surrounded them slowly thinned out during the whole ordeal, but the ones that were left were shifting from foot to foot as they wondered what the hell their chief was doing, none of them dared to comment on it though. Kurosaki swallowed, and Grimmjow’s eyes immediately followed the bob of his adams apple, the tip of his tongue subconsciously pressing against the inside of his cheek.

“It’s… Ichigo… Ichigo Kurosaki.” With each word he got more confident as he said his own name, holding Grimmjow’s eyes with such determination.

“Ichigo Kurosaki” Grimmjow tested the words out for himself. He liked the way it tasted on his lips and the way it made his tongue tingle as if the name was a spice itself. Or maybe not a spice, but something extremely sweet that people would cross the entire country just to have a taste for themselves.

But Grimmjow just so happened to be a greedy bastard.

“Ya know what,” Grimmjow whistled, “fuck tha’ market. I’m keeping this one for myself.”