Angel of Music

AN: *peeks head out nervously* Hi guys...! I know some of you waiting on a "Champagne" update are probably about to want to kill me, but hear me out first! I recently got to see the Royal Albert Hall version of PotO, and this little idea spawned in my head and wouldn't let me write anything else! Honest! XD No, but really, I've had this idea in the "Future Fics" section of my bio for a while, and really, really wanted to act on it. Don't worry though, I'll still be updating "Champagne" (especially since I just recently had some new ideas for it) in due time! The next chapter is in progress! Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this new fic! Please reveiw with what you think! (: Much love!

The twilight is setting in swiftly, and the earth seems to be falling into a sleep deep enough to qualm the demons that have plagued him nightly since the day he was born- just long enough for him to notice the two stunning gray eyes staring at him through the bars of the cage he's lived in for two, three, four years. It's seemed like an eternity. But they're there- those eyes, and at the moment time seems to move a little quicker- just fast enough for his heart to begin beating again.

He shifts uneasily, sliding back farther into the shadow of his cage for fear of startling the girl. She's likely never seen a face like his- deformed, mutated, destroyed- all adjectives that haunt him constantly and follow him around as a permanent description. He's a monster, a freak... though definitely not by choice.

She shifts also in response, stepping forward and pressing her face into the frozen metal bars of his cage to try and see him better. He's unsure- it's not often that anyone dares to come close enough to the cage to be at arm's reach- most who do are violent, crazy, or leering. Yet, in her eyes, he see's nothing of the sort; only curiosity, kindness, and warmth. He doesn't dare let himself hope though, not even for a second, that what he sees is honestly what she is- that her eyes will not soon fill with terror and disgust.

It's then that someone steps up beside her, taking one tiny mitted hand away from the bars and into his very large one. If the boy could guess the man's age he'd say at most he could be thirty five- though in his eyes he sees wisdom far beyond that number.

"Orihime, what're you looking at?" The man says.

Weaving Princess!

He finds joy in knowing the translation of her name. His mind is clever, and he's extremely intelligent- even only having read a few textbooks in his lifetime, he knows much more than anyone else his age would. He often thinks of this fact with great bitterness; if it were not for his face, perhaps he could be most dearly loved. But no, by some great twist of awful fate, he was made as a bug to be trampled on, and murdered much later.

"I... I think there's a boy..."

Her voice chimes like the sweetest of bells, even at her young age. Her voice is soft, though, and much in need of training.

"Sora-nii... why would they have a boy locked up this way?"

Her eyes look up to her elder brother with great sadness, and with that expression on her face the boy cannot fathom how her brother says what he does. He expects something to qualm her worry; to make the world seem less terrible than it is. But this is not the case.

"They think he's a monster. A freak of nature..."

Her face becomes even more downcast at this- her eyebrows furrowing together tightly. At six years old, she's not yet wise enough to know the awful way the world works- that most decisions are based on frivolities and shallowness. At twelve himself, and very much old enough to have experienced many of these things, he doesn't have the fortune enough to be unwise.

"...but he's just a boy, and that thinking isn't right, 'Hime."

She nods, and then without a word steps up to the bars, removing her mittens and lying them right inside the cage, so that he'll definitely be able to take them. Her brother doesn't protest- only takes her hands in his and kisses them to keep them warm. She smiles at this, but then remembers what she just did and frowns.

"I don't think you're a monster, boy." She murmurs softly. "So don't think for a second that everyone's the same, okay?"

The boy turns over the words in his mind for a moment, watching her bright smile.

He decides to test what she's just said.

He crawls back into the light hesitantly, eyes filled with fear and loneliness. His body is emaciated and ruined with scars- and his face, oh, how horrid a face he has. The entire right side of it is deformed beyond measure- his lip is drawn up much too far, his cheek doesn't form around the bone naturally, and his eye is partially blind; discolored against his left, but no less filled with light and emotion.

She gasps and draws back for a moment, but upon greater scrutiny decides that even with his face so greatly wrong, he's just another child like herself. Smiling again, she steps back to the bars, holding out her hand for him to take.

"You have beautiful eyes." Is all she says. Her brother behind her smiles faintly at her courage and kindness, and he feels pride beyond measure. The boy just suddenly feels very, very warm. Reaching out his hand to touch hers, they fail to make contact for even a moment before the fair owner (having seen what was occurring) pulls her away from the bars, at least a few steps back. Her brother immediately retaliates, ripping the man's hand from his younger sister's arm. The boy only shrinks back in his cage for fear that he's soon to receive yet another beating.

"How dare you?! Get your hands off of her!" He screams.

"But monsieur, that boy is dangerous! He's a demon!"

"He's just a boy! I ought to report you for the way he looks- he's hungry and sick- can't you see?"

Orihime, at all the fighting, begins to sniffle, and the boy notices, the sound tearing him away from his fear of the fair owner. He crawls back up to the front the cage and motions to get her to come closer. Seeing this, she quietly steps away from the scene, back close to the bars. He smiles faintly at her, gently reaching his hand out and wiping a lone tear from her cheek, shaking his head as if to tell her not to cry.

"Shh..." His voice rasps. "Don't... cry..."

After years of not speaking, he finds it difficult to- but her nodding encourages him.

"What's... your name?" He asks, though he already knows. "Mine is... Grimmjow."

"G-grimmjow?"

He nods, grinning again, and she smiles back at him, brighter than ever before. She opens her mouth to say something in response, but before she can her brother grabs her hand, leading her away from the cage gently, though quickly.

"Come on Orihime. We're going to the police. Don't you worry, we'll get him out of there."

Fighting against his hold just a little, she turns back to Grimmjow, meeting eyes with him one last time before he and his cage are out of sight.

And that evening, when Sora returns with the police, they find that the boy, young Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, has escaped.

AN II: Something about a six year old Orihime and twelve year old Grimmjow just makes me extremely happy inside. XD See you next update!

P.S. College is hard. XD