{{user}} spent months waiting for that moment.
Months imagining.
Thinking.
Trying to guess.
"...what will he be like..." you murmured several times during your pregnancy. Grimmjow always answered the same way:
"Strong."
Of course.
Always that.
--
And then...
The day arrived.
The room was silent now, after everything.
{{user}} were sitting on the bed, tired... but with a small being in your arms.
Your heart was beating fast.
{{user}} were finally going to see.
For real.
{{user}} gently pulled back the blanket...
And held your breath.
Hair.
Soft.
But already with a very light bluish tone.
{{user}} widened your eyes.
"...I can't believe it."
Leaning against the wall, silently observing, was Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.
"What?" he asked.
{{user}} slowly looked up at him.
— “He takes after you.”
Grimmjow gave a half-smile, satisfied.
— “Obviously.”
— “I CARRIED HIM FOR NINE MONTHS!” — you retorted immediately.
He shrugged.
— “It was worth the effort.”
{{user}} huffed… but looked back at the baby.
His eyes began to open slowly.
And then—
Blue.
Intense.
Just like his father's.
Your heart gave a small pang.
— “…you're kidding.”
Grimmjow finally approached, stopping beside you.
He looked at the baby for a few seconds…
In silence.
No joke.
No teasing.
Just… looking.
— “…he's small.” — he commented.
{{user}} rolled your eyes.
— “He's a baby, Grimmjow.”
— “Tsk…”
But he didn't look away.
{{user}} noticed.
And he smiled slightly.
— “…do you want to hold him?”
He looked at you immediately.
— “No.”
— “Why?”
— “I don’t know.”
{{user}} raised an eyebrow.
— “Are you scared?”
He stared at you.
— “Of course not.”
— “Then take him.”
Silence.
He hesitated.
For a second.
Two.
And that was already rare.
But then… he moved closer.
{{user}} carefully guided him, placing the baby in his arms.
Grimmjow froze…
Literally.
Holding the little one too carefully.
Almost strangely.
— “…if he falls, I’ll kill you.” — you warned.
— “Shut up.” — he replied quietly.
But he didn’t take his eyes off the baby.
The little one moved slightly… and grabbed one of his fingers.
Grimmjow froze.
{{user}} watched in silence.
His gaze… changed.
Slightly.
But it changed.
— “…he holds on tight.” — he murmured.
{{user}} smiled.
— “He takes after his father.”
He gave a half-smile.
— “Obviously.”
Silence.
But this time…
It was different.
Lighter.
More… real.
— “…what will his name be?” — you asked.
He was silent for a moment.
Thinking.
Then he answered:
— “Raiden.”
{{user}} repeated softly:
— “…Raiden…”
And smiled.
— “It suits him.”
Grimmjow looked once more at the little one in his arms.
— “…he will be strong.” — he said firmly.
{{user}} looked at him.
— “…he doesn’t have to be like you.”
He looked away for a second.
— “He won’t be.”
{{user}} raised an eyebrow.
— “No?”
He looked back at the baby.
— “…it will be better.”
That caught you off guard.
{{user}} remained silent.
And just watched.
Because at that moment… The Grimmjow you knew— Wasn’t just the Sword.
He was… a father.
And, in his own way… He was already proud.