So I lied again. This isn't Hills either.
No Warnings
Disclaimer: I no own Bleach. Kubo troll does.
Rain, Rain:
How Heavy Fell the Rain That Day
or
Why You Shouldn't Always Carry an Umbrella
The rain seemed endless today. Cold gray water fell from the sky in sheets, drenching everything it its path. Dancing lights glittered on the black asphalt of the road, the reflections of car headlights as the vehicles zoomed onward to their destinations. Large puddles began to collect on the sidewalks while miniature rivers ran along the streets turning into swirling whirlpools at the overwhelmed storm drains. The water glittered with an iridescent hue, the grays and greens of car exhaust and oil, as it rippled and pooled on the ground. The dark sky rumbled overhead, the water-heavy clouds reflecting in the many glass skyscrapers that towered above the city. The air, usually crisp and clean after a refreshing storm, hung heavy from the smog emitted by the populated city, tainted with the scents of gasoline and diesel. The world seemed truly colorless then, muted by all the rain and gloom of that miserable afternoon.
And there stood Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez among the raindrops.
A tight frown pinched his otherwise handsome face, features drawn in to shield from the rain. He grit his teeth as he watched another taxi speed by, splashing up a wave of dirty water to drench the impatient and already sopping wet man. Unaware of the day's weather forecast, Grimmjow had unfortunately left his umbrella at his comfortable country home and was now left standing in the pouring rain and getting soaked. The business suit he wore was most likely ruined, the dampness of the material seeping into his skin and sending involuntary tremors throughout his body. Great, he was probably going to get sick, too. Just what he needed. He let out an irritable sigh. The list of 'things-gone-wrong' kept growing, much to Grimmjow's ire.
First was the ungodly amount of rain that ceased to end. Normally, Grimmjow enjoyed the rain and the peacefulness it brought to his otherwise chaotic life, but this was just too much. And then today's meeting had run late, causing the blue-haired man to miss the bus he needed in order to reach his car. A car that was parked practically on the other side of town. Why, you might ask? The pompous asshole of a boss Grimmjow worked for couldn't find it within himself to part with his enormous bank account and buy one of the many empty lots next to his own fucking company, forcing his employees and clients alike to struggle to find a place to park their vehicles. For most employees, this wasn't a problem; they lived within the city and could walk or use the public transportation and be at the firm in a matter of minutes. For Grimmjow, on the other hand, it wasn't so easy. He lived in the far out rural countryside beyond the city, driving easily two hours to reach the urban metropolis. Knowing it would be impossible to find a spot closer to where he worked, Grimmjow used a public parking garage at the edge of the city to store his car and traveled the rest of the way by bus. Walking was never an option.
His travel pattern seemed somewhat tedious and complicated to others, but he couldn't handle living within the walls of the damn restless city. And after years of working with the firm he'd gotten used to it.
So there Grimmjow stood in the pouring rain, trying and failing to hail a cab.
Vibrant blue eyes sparked to life when they noticed the glowing pale light of an empty cab. Grimmjow lifted his arm, waving a little to get the driver's attention. The faded yellow taxi pulled up to the curb near where the blue-haired businessman stood. Grimmjow walked forward and reached for the door handle, the tinges of relief creeping back into his heart, when he was hit in the face with a black something as a separate shower of cold rain splashed against his skin. What the hell?
Grimmjow staggered back, blinking the water from his eyes. He couldn't believe it. Some asshole just hit him with an umbrella. And was stealing his cab. Oh, fuck no.
"Hey!" Grimmjow snarled, surging forward and grabbing the dick's forearm underneath the umbrella. He dodged the object a second time when the taxi-thief whipped around in shock from the sudden grip on his arm. Piercing glacial blue met warm gooey brown. Grimmjow delighted in the look of bewilderment that crossed the other man's face before it settled into a deep scowl.
"Can I help you?" The young man's light baritone asked. The blunette practically growled at the question.
"Yeah," Grimmjow spat. "You're stealing my cab." What happened next, though, utterly surprised him.
Almost instantly the scowl melted away as ridiculous orange brows rose to a matching hairline. Those brown eyes widened in astonishment and confusion as the young man stuttered over his words before managing a "What?" He kept looking back and forth along the sidewalk, at the other people standing there and the numerous full taxis that continued to roll by. "But I didn't . . ."
"You did," Grimmjow said, a little bit easier, softer, as his anger began to wash away with the rain. When those swirling cinnamon orbs met his again, a sense of understanding seemed to pass between the two of them – awkwardly, they'd both hailed the same cab somehow, not realizing the other's presence until the two men literally collided. Grimmjow found himself lost in the young man's eyes for a moment, chocolate flecked with golden honey; they were warm and comforting, a sharp contrast to the cold that continued to beat down around them. The same rain that continued to drench the unprotected blunette.
"Hey, fellas!" yelled the cabbie through an opened window. "Either one of you gets in or I'm driving off!"
The orange head turned back to the cab. "No, wait!" Grimmjow watched the man's welcoming gaze refocus on him, a gentle smile tilting his lips. "Share it with me."
Blue brows quirked. "What?"
"Share the taxi with me," the man said again, gesturing to the yellow car. He shrugged, a smirk forming. "We obviously both need it, maybe you more than me." Grimmjow returned the look, feeling the water travel down his back even as they spoke. "And it'll be ages before either of us can catch another one."
The businessman ran a hand through his sopping wet hair. He raised one brown in question, a little sheepish. Not that he'd easily admit it. "You don't mind sharing with this soaked sorry excuse?" The resulting laugh left Grimmjow with a wide smile; the sound was so genuine, so beautiful, and unmuted in the horrible dull rain. It may have even warmed his heart a little. Man, was he turning into a sap.
"It'll be fine," the orangette replied, the smile returning on his mouth. "Now let's get going before the driver has a conniption."
Grimmjow chuckled as the two entered the car, the orange-haired man opening the door and slipping inside first with his umbrella followed by a dripping wet businessman thankful for finally getting out of the rain. They hadn't been in the car a minute before –
"You really are soaked!" Grimmjow felt a light flush dust over his cheeks at the comment, frowning. He wiped at the water droplets still running down his face and stuttered an apology. The young man's chocolate cinnamon eyes gleamed with a teasing light even inside the dark interior of the cab. "It's alright," reassured the orangette, that kind smile ever-present.
"Where to, fellas?" the cabbie asked from the front seat, eyes reflecting in the rear-view mirror.
The other man answered first, rattling off the address to a small apartment building. The driver nodded and turned his gaze to Grimmjow. "And you, Blue?"
Grimmjow grit his teeth at the nickname, but supplied the location of the parking garage regardless.
"What?!" the orange head exclaimed from his side, surprising the other yet again. "That's practically on the other side of town! You can't possibly go that long – you'll get sick with how drenched you are! No," the young man shook his head, "you're coming with me." The last bit was directed at the driver as well as Grimmjow, setting the taxi on its course.
"Wait a minute," protested Grimmjow. Even though the orangette's words reflected on his earlier thoughts, he couldn't just let this go. His anger began to resurface. "I have to get home. I appreciate you sharing the cab with me, but you can't just decide where I'm going. I don't even know you!" His day had been horrible – endless meetings, an arrogant boss, and all his misfortunes from the afternoon. Now he had this orange head calling the shots? He could have been a murderer for all he knew! All Grimmjow wanted to do was go home and relax with a steaming cup of coffee. Call him fluffy, but dammit, he was tired.
The young man offered a hand to Grimmjow. "Ichigo Kurosaki." The blunette sighed at the man's – Ichigo's – stubbornness and shook the proffered appendage. "I'm twenty-four years old. I moved to the city for college and have lived here ever since. I graduated with a degree in education but haven't found a stable job as a teacher in any of the local school districts. I do, however, act as a substitute and home tutor with specialties in writing and literature. On the weekends I wait tables at the restaurant a couple blocks from my apartment." Ichigo paused for a sense of finality. "There. Now you know me. We're going to my apartment."
Grimmjow closed his weary blue eyes with another swipe at his wet forehead, the water from his hair and clothes continuing to drip everywhere on himself and the car seat. Whatever. He leaned back against the somewhat comfortable seat. The steady sound of the beating rain against the car instilled a peaceful lull inside the taxi cab, supplying the businessman with a much needed rest, his compassionate companion offering idle chatter as the car drove on in the colorless world.
So.
This was based on a dream I had a couple of months ago. I've only now really had the time to look it over and have some editing time with my beta (thank you AiryAquarius!) There will most likely be a Part 2, along with some continuations, as long as my tired brain cooperates. College is killer, man. That being said, it'll probably be a while.
On another note, Grimmjow's commute is based on what a lot of people in my area do when traveling to New York City for work. So, that actually exists, unfortunately. I'm cruel. I know.
I know I promised an update for Hills first, but I'm not sure where my writing muse is taking me. Midterms start up this week, and my schedule will be pretty full.
Now, my dear readers, your checklist:
Chapter Reminders:
- updates won't be easy; please be respectful
- AiryAquarius; find her, love her
- FEED THE AUTHOR; PLEASE REVIEW
Til then,
Cody Zik
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