Ichigo woke up, the air in his bedroom warm. The sunlight filtered through his wide window, casting the soft morning light through the clear panes onto his floor. He rolled out of bed, stretching and yawning, before trudging over to his desk. He haphazardly tore the page from the previous day off his daily calendar, revealing the new date.
February 14.
Oh.
The large font seemed to mock him, reminding him of just how single he was. Another year come, another year gone with no sign of the springtime of his youth. He wasn't particularly upset that he had never dated anyone, but this certainly foreshadowed a much more tedious day of school than usual.
And on top of that, all his friends were coupled up, leaving him to be the awkward third wheel to everything.
He pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor, moving to his closet and pulling out his uniform. He sighed, closing his eyes and sweeping a hand through his fiery orange locks.
It was going to be a long day.
The redhead stuck out, he knew he did. A mop of bright orange hair, surrounded by a huge woolen scarf covering his neck and face. The temperature was easily 25 degrees Celsius- perfect weather for the holiday- but for some reason, he just couldn't get warm.
People were curious as to why he was dressed so warmly on such a hot day, but he didn't care. He was used to those scrutinizing stares.
Ichigo headed towards his locker, when he heard a loud group of voices. He looked up to see a flash of bright blue hair surrounded by a huge gaggle of girls, blocking the locker bay next to him. They were chatting excitedly, crowding around him and each trying to force their own decorative present into the man's stuffed arms. Pink boxes, hearts, lace, cards, ribbon; he looked like a walking chocolate shop.
Grimmjow was grinning widely, flashing his brilliant smile and winking as the girls piled their presents on top of each other, trying to find a space in his full arms. They kept talking over each other with high, delicate voices, faces beaming at the diminutive chance that perhaps the school's tousled Adonis would fancy them.
But Ichigo knew better. He had gone to school with the guy for 10 years, and it wasn't news to anyone that Grimmjow had been around the block, several times at that. There were even rumors that he'd kissed every single girl in school... and it probably wasn't far-fetched. He was never going to settle for just one person.
Ichigo glared at the blue haired teenager, feeling annoyance well up inside him. Grimmjow turned his way and caught his gaze, his bright cerulean eyes laughing mockingly as they noted Ichigo's growing rage.
The taller teen laughed loudly. "You jealous, berry?" He called mockingly, watching Ichigo glare daggers at him over his huge scarf.
Ichigo felt his eyebrow twitch. His frown deepened and he whirled around to yank his locker door open with more force than it probably needed, elbowing some girl in the back in the process.
Grimmjow's laughter boomed out as he observed, obviously taking extreme satisfaction with Ichigo's clear exasperation. The tall boy strutted away, the gaggle of girls following like ducklings after their mother.
Ichigo quickly unwound his large scarf and violently stuffed his it in his bag. He had gotten way too warm, although he wasn't sure if it was the weather or the incomprehensible amount of rage that had been building inside him throughout the day.
He slammed open the classroom door and turned the corner sharply, glaring at no one in particular. Finally he could seek asylum from the holiday in the safety of his home. The day had gone just as he expected; having to observe all of the elated couples gushing over each other, and watching every guy receive chocolates except for him. Especially seeing how Grimmjow's hoard grew with every class.
An image of Grimmjow's handsome face briefly flashed across his face.
No. no no no absolutely not.
And it seemed like everyone but him had gotten something. Usually, he at least got friend chocolates from Orihime, but it seemed like he was deliberately left out, which bothered him more than he cared to admit.
He was pissed off. And he felt pissed on. And not to mention, everywhere he looked, Grimmjow was there, surrounded by a massive fanclub. Class. The vending machine. The cafeteria. The courtyard. The bathroom. It was unbearable, intolerable, inescapable. It was suffocating.
It didn't help that every time Ichigo turned around, Grimmjow was looking at him, his bright blue eyes flashing in amusement. His smile was positively shit-eating, and it was all Ichigo could do to turn around and sulk quietly.
He can go fuck himself.
Naturally, by the end of the day, he was in a pretty shitty mood. Ichigo stomped down the stairs to the locker bay, and yanked his locker door open forcefully. He reached in and grabbed his shoes, pulling them out, almost not noticing the pink envelope that fluttered out.
Tatsuki took a sip of her iced coffee as she scrolled through her text messages. She, Orihime, Chad, and Uryuu were hanging out at a nearby café, killing time. She paused at the one she received from a certain blue-haired classmate.
No one get Ichigo Kurosaki anything for Valentine's Day or else.
She sighed and shut her phone off, turning back to the conversation at the table.
"Yeah, he wanted to make sure no one got him anything." Tatsuki said as she grabbed Orihime's pink drink from in front of her and took a sip.
The orange haired girl clasped her hands together and a dreamy look came into her eyes. "Oh, it's so romantic!"
"Mm." contributed Chad, nodding quietly.
Everyone and their mother knew that Grimmjow had a huge crush on Ichigo. Everyone but Ichigo, that is. The school's king had cleverly concealed it for God knows how long.
Tatsuki snorted. "Controlling, more like. He better know what he's doing." She sighed."Poor Ichigo. He's smart but he's pretty blunt. He hasn't even begin to realize how much Grimm likes him. I guess today he finally wanted to make it clear." She slid Orihime's drink back to her friend.
"Yeah, but I just wish I could have made him some chocolates today. He looked so angry and upset when he stormed out after class."
"And Grimmjow would have flayed you alive. He wants everything to be perfect, and he sure doesn't make idle threats." Uryuu pushed his glasses up and clasped his hands around his iced sweet tea.
There was a collective silence as the group imagined what would happen if they messed up the judo captains' plan to confess to his love. It was obvious Ichigo was pissed off, though. And all of Grimmjow's fangirls had really cranked up their level of effort, trying to divert their god's attention from his object of affection for even one second, even though the effort was completely fruitless.
Orihime sighed. "I just hope he's OK."
Ichigo's rage melted completely, flowing out of him like a wave as he leaned down to pick up the lone pink envelope.
Neatly written in black lettering on the front was his name. He spent some time scrutinizing the writing, trying to discern who it could be. The scrawl had a familiarity to it that he couldn't quite place…something he'd seen before but he couldn't place it.
He tenderly held it in his hands before peeling back the flap and pulling a small piece of paper out. It was white, about the size of a notecard, but it was fancy, expensive-looking paper. It felt thick and had a faint pearl colored paisley pattern printed on it. On it was black writing, with smooth, creamy ink, the calligraphic letters curling around each other perfectly. The writing was different font but obviously done by the same person who wrote his name on the front.
You are my sun.
The message was simple.
Ichigo blushed lightly, his brow furrowing as he turned to hide his face and leaning against the lockers. There was no signature, no address, nothing indicating the sender.
He had already completely forgot about all his previous anger. Getting this one thing made up for the whole day.
He felt his heart beat a little bit faster. The smooth words were oddly reassuring. They were simple, warm, and sweet.
But who could it possibly be from?
Again, Grimmjow's visage flew across his mind. Ichigo scowled at the thought, but deep down, for some reason couldn't help but wish the sender to be the bluenette.
Carefully, he placed the embossed card back in the envelope and tucked it neatly in the bag. He stepped into the February air, feeling calm.
This mystery person sure knew how to make him feel special.
Not feeling like going home anymore, Ichigo slowly walked along the sidewalk. Before he knew it, the sun was slowly starting to sink, the shadows growing longer and the light dimmed. He turned off the sidewalk to step onto a grassy riverbank. The small green plants swayed in the early evening breeze, the water at the bottom of the gently sloping hill glittering in the mellow orange sun. Sitting down on the soft ground, he inhaled deeply, soaking up the air of the early evening. He closed his eyes, laying back, when something landed gently on his face.
Immediately he shot up, looking around for the intruder, scrutinizing the area with his keen eyes for any sign of movement. But there was no one anywhere to be seen. He picked up the paper that fell on his face, examining it. Clearly it was from the previous sender; same pink envelope, same thick paper, same glossy, smooth writing.
You look cute like that.
He blushed brightly, feeling the hot redness surging over his face, up to his ears and down his neck. He was indignant.
What the heck?! Who the hell is this?!
He stood up abruptly, looking around again for the soul who was responsible. But they must have been a ninja because there wasn't a single sign of movement, let alone a whole person he could see. He quickly crawled up the hill to the sidewalk, where he took off running towards his house, trying to escape the admirer who was apparently watching him.
Although he couldn't repress a small smile.
He sprinted for as long as he could, before finally stopping by to rest by a deserted crosswalk. He leaned against a street sign, catching his breath, gulping in the evening air and trying to slow his furiously beating heart, though maybe it wasn't from the running. He looked around, but still no one was there.
He wasn't really sure what to make of this whole situation. Someone - supposedly an admirer-was following him home. He felt like something really dramatic was going on, and this wasn't the finale. But who could it possibly be? What if it's someone really creepy? He shuddered at the thought, but the thought crossed his mind that this entire thing was kind of romantic in a weird way.
Are they gone?
He turned to keep going, but a flash of pink caught his eye. He stared bewildered, his brow furrowing, at the pink envelope taped neatly to the street sign he was leaning against.
What the fuck?! How did they know where I was going?!
He spun around abruptly, looking for someone, anyone. But all he saw were the trees swaying gently and the still sinking ball of fire beyond the horizon.
Now this was just black magic. He scowled a little, suspiciously observing the area. Apparently this person knew him really really well. He racked his brain, sifting through lists of names. People he was close to, people who knew him…people he'd known for ages.
He seized the envelope, violently tearing it open. He couldn't stop himself. Whoever this person was seriously driving him up the wall.
Run all you want honey, I'll be right there.
He blushed once again, full force, staring at the card. Somehow this person was following him, watching him. He expected to feel unsettled, but instead he felt impatient. The mystery was quickly turning his whole world upside down.
And how the hell were they going to explain making him feel this way?
Aggravated, he shoved the note into his bag and jogged the short distance to his house.
His heart was thumping so uncontrollably he thought he was having palpitations. His head was throbbing, palms sweaty, face burning, his chest squeezing his insides.
What's going on? Why do I even feel like this?!
He reached his house and walked up to the door, leaning against it and trying to control his breathing. He looked over and there were two notes taped to it. He grabbed the first one. It was hastily scribbled on a piece of ripped out notebook paper.
Went to the amusement park without you
-Dad
Followed by a poorly drawn face with its tongue sticking out.
Ichigo felt his eye twitch. He quickly crumpled the note and stuffed it in his pocket before reaching for the fourth envelope.
He tore it open, not sure what to expect.
Meet me in the park near your house.
Huh. Well at least this one offered some actual information.
Ichigo quickly jammed his key in the door lock, tossing his bag in the entryway before heading to the meeting place. He walked quickly, trying to get to the park as soon as possible.
He didn't know what to expect. He didn't know why he was in such a huge hurry, why he wanted to know just who this person was, and why they were doing this.
He broke into a run.
At the beginning of the day, Ichigo would never had expected this. This…this person, even though he'd never known who they were, was suddenly just…everything. Somehow in the span of a less than day, this person had totally captured him. He didn't even care who it was anymore. He just wanted them. His mind was consumed with the thought of figuring out who it was, possibilities rushing through his mind at a feverish pace. There was an insistant thrumming behind his ears, and Ichigo felt it wouldn't go away until he figured out this whole damn mystery.
He wanted this. He wanted someone to care about, someone to care about him, someone who was…always there.
Nothing made sense anymore. He was a complete mess, running like his life depended on it.
He skidded into the park, out of breath. He kept walking, not knowing what to expect, but looking for…them.
He then he saw.
They were facing away from him, silhouetted against the setting sun, the bright colors of the celestial body painting the brilliant sky. The colors filtered through the person's hair, obscuring the color. He looked tall, with a handsome figure, and had a large bouquet of roses tucked under a strong arm.
Ichigo stopped several feet away, staring, still panting lightly. This person looked oddly familiar. Really familiar.
He took a deep breath, not sure what to say, his heart still throbbing uncontrollably. He squinted into the light, trying to discern any revealing features of the figure.
Then they turned. Ichigo caught a shock of bright blue hair, and vivid, azure eyes.
Grimmjow.
Ichigo froze completely. Out of all the people in the world, this is the last one he actually expected. Lady-killer Grimmjow. Judo captain, rich-as-fuck, model-level-attractiveness, can-have-anything-and-anyone-in-the-world Grimmjow.
But then again, this whole day was not what he expected.
Grimmjow walked forward, slowly, deliberately, until he was only a foot away from the redhead. All traces of his previous malicious expressions were gone. There was no shit-eating smirk, no rude language or gestures, nor sharp amusement at Ichigo's suffering. His eyes were gentle, his smile soft. His eyes looked tenderly at Ichigo as if he was the most precious thing in the world.
"These are for you."
Grimmjow moved his arms up and pressed the huge, fragrant bouquet of roses into Ichigo's arms. The redhead stood, staring into the other's eyes, completely dumfounded and unable to move.
Grimmjow smiled. "I guess you weren't expecting me."
Ichigo managed to force his voice to work. "Grimmjow?" He looked down, wrapping his arms gently around the bouquet and bringing the delicate blossoms up to cover his face. "I thought you hated me."
The sun continued its descent, and Grimmjow stepped forward, shrinking the space between them to a couple inches. The shorter boy in front of him was much different than he was used to. Ichigo's bright hair caught the fading light, almost glowing. He wasn't scowling and angry. His deep brown eyes were captivating and pure, and he seemed so vulnerable. As if he never expected to be in this situation, he was timid and quiet, gently hugging the fragrant roses to himself.
But this character was somehow…endearing. Grimmjow suddenly had a strong urge to hold Ichigo and never let go.
But it wasn't like he wasn't protecting Ichigo before. For years, he was fending off worthless thugs and stupid love struck high school students who claimed to have crushes on him. He'd been in this unrequited love for so long, for so many years, and he was finally ready to bring his feelings to light. But he'd wanted it to be perfect; everything had to work exactly, so he spread the warning text around the whole school.
Without being able to stop himself, Grimmjow wrapped a strong arm around Ichigo's slender waist and lifted his chin with his other hand, forcing Ichigo to look up into his deep eyes, the flowers being the only thing separating their bodies from touching.
Ichigo wasn't exactly sure what was going on. He heart was pounding furiously, the perfumed roses filling his senses, and he was powerless to stop Grimmjow from touching him. But against his better judgement, he didn't really want to resist. The blue haired teens arms were gentle and strong, his large, warm hands holding Ichigo close. There was something about him that just made him never want to leave this moment. Years of rivalry seemed petty and insignificant, like they were nothing more than a childish rivalry. Any resentment towards Grimmjow seemed to melt into the air. This was a new moment. This was a new start.
The distance between their faces naturally closed slowly, until Grimmjow closed the gap completely and tenderly pressed their lips together.
Ichigo's senses were suddenly filled with Grimmjow. His grip loosened on the roses, and the bluenette reached his hands up to grip Ichigo's soft hair, tugging them closer.
The kiss was gentle, sweet, and laced with so much emotion it Ichigo didn't know what to do with it. It was like the taller teen was pouring years of intense feelings into this one gesture. Ichigo felt his face warm up, and his heart beat even faster, thumping in his chest.
A day ago, Ichigo would have killed himself before kissing Grimmjow, but now it seemed to be the most natural thing to do. He reached and arm up, reaching around Grimmjow's broad shoulders and up into his blue hair, which was surprisingly soft and silky.
He tilted his head instinctively, deepening the kiss, wanting to stay in this moment forever.
Eventually, their lips drifted apart, leaving Ichigo staring dazedly into Grimmjow's captivating cerulean eyes.
Somehow, Ichigo knew he'd never be able to leave this perfect man.
They shared the moment, staring into each other's eyes, and the gears that made up life clicked together, now running smoothly as the unbreakable connection between the two of them solidified.
Ichigo leaned into Grimmjow's muscular chest, hugging him tightly, and Grimmjow hugged him back.
"I love you."