Nel knew her hopes were in vain when she heard someone running up the stairs. Stubborn bastard. She stiffened as his footsteps got closer and shifted slightly to keep his view obscured.
His voice was stoic, face composed as he spoke to Nel, "Is he...Is he okay?"
How could she tell him this? How could she tell him that his best friend was gone forever? She couldn't...not yet. She hadn't even had a chance to process it herself. She didn't know what to do or say, so Nel stayed silent.
The second he walked into that miserable, fucking room, Grimmjow knew...he just refused to accept it.
The whole way up, he tried to be optimistic. He knew Ichigo was messed up, but he'd been through worse than this, right? He'd be okay. He wouldn't...no, he wouldn't do that. Ichigo could never be that selfish-he'd never leave his family like that.
He couldn't see much of him with Nel blocking his body, but he could see his face... His eyes were closed and he wasn't moving. He wasn't fucking moving. But it was the blood that made him feel sick to his stomach. No one, be they human or demon, could survive that kind of blood loss.
It was impossible, but even then, he still had hope. It was only a tiny speck hovering at the edge of his otherwise fucked up mind, but it was the only reason he was still standing. So with that deceptive bit of optimism firmly in hand, Grimm asked if his friend was okay and then he ...