Disclaimer: I do not own BLEACH or its characters, Tite Kubo does; I do what I do out of fun and I make no money from writing this.
WARNING: Yaoi and straight smut danger for later chapters, some violence will be included later too.
BLEACH: Mission Impossible
Prologue
And thank you for a house full of people I love. Amen. ~Ward Elliot Hour
Ichigo slowly lifted his head, his black and golden eyes filled with a blaze of desire… desire to cause pain and murder. He stood from the rubbles, raising his sleek, black sword again, the muscles of his arms flexing as he moved. Bruises and wounds covered his body and he knew he wouldn't last much longer but the clanging, loud noises of the other two fights were spurring him on even more.
Panting softly, he straightened. His posture was steady and powerful, his black coat flared behind him in the slight wind. A true warrior…
For a brief second he felt something move within him… something dark… and foreboding… evil and… uncontrollable…
Then everything went black for a long while.
When he next opened his eyes, his gaze fell upon Aizen's writhing, maimed body and he felt a faint notion of pity as he watched the once so powerful man squirm for his last breath, and try to squeeze some more air into his torn lungs, his long, elegant fingers searching for something, fighting to grasp his dying life tighter.
Then he saw Ichimaru step over and that smile touched his previously so serious face, making him look scarily fox-like.
"Yare, yare, Aizen Sousuke." He heard his voice, kind and cruel, a sigh lacing it. "…even you can be fooled."
When Aizen's pain-filled eyes widened at those words, Gin drove his blade through the tyrant's skull, breaking through the bone and piercing that brilliant brain.
With one last, choked groan, Aizen fell limp and his brown eyes stared lifelessly at the clear, blue sky.
Ichigo made a motion to stand but had to notice he had to strength left to. He watched how Gin closes the dead man's eyes then closed his own lightly and heaved a weak sigh.
So it was over.
His still so sensitive nerves felt the Garganta open but he didn't really care who came back from the dead because he was sure the others could handle it now.
"Yo. What did I miss, fuckers?"
Yet that voice made his tired eyes snap open and he strained his neck, trying to look to make sure he indeed WAS there and he wasn't just imagining that gruff tone grumbling like that.
He couldn't believe it.
A smile curved his chapped, bloodless lips as he saw the Espada, covered in his own blood, stumbling from the black gate, trying to look proud and unharmed even when he was so close to passing out.
He staggered over, Ichigo saw him, and kicked into Aizen's corpse on the way. He fell down beside him, sitting cross-legged and hunched forward slightly as his blue eyes just stared at him for a long while before his lips dragged into a rough grin.
"Yo." He greeted.
Ichigo felt a snort strain his chest and he fought back a wince to keep up the good image of two strong warriors grudgingly agreeing to stop wanting to tear each other's throats.
"…yo." He finally replied back and found that his own voice sounded so distant and different to him. Deep and steady as if he wasn't short of breath at all.
He lay and Grimmjow sat, the two silently bearing their wounds and pride, not quite thinking about the 'what now?' yet.
Months passed.
Years even. Three, to be exact.
Ichigo didn't even remember Aizen's dying face anymore and memories of the fights did not haunt his mind.
Just the will to fight, maybe… Just a bit. But which warrior could leave wars behind completely after winning one…?
So now, as he was pulling on his blue t-shirt, smoothing it down over his oh, so developed, broad chest, his big, powerful hands running over the rough silver script that said 'CRASH', he was quite cheerful and didn't look as gloomy as he used to anymore. Pulling on a pair of blue jeans that were ripped at the knees and his black socks, he was almost ready.
He ran his hands through his hair a couple of times to try and make it look less messy but it didn't help much. Hanging his silver dogtag necklace around his neck and rubbing his chin, deciding he didn't need to shave just yet, he turned to go to his bathroom and used some of his cologne. Finding his wallet and keys, he padded down to the kitchen where he greeted his sisters and avoided a punch from his father.
"Oi, baka." He frowned, turning towards the stairs again after pulling on his sneakers. "Hurry up already."
"Yeahyeah." A grumbling response came and a few moments later, none other but Grimmjow trotted down the stairs, hands tucked into his tight black jeans.
After the war was over, Ichigo had a long talk with Yamamoto-soutaichou and somehow managed to convince him to give Grimmjow a gigai that suppresses his powers and let him live in the material world. He knew the Espada would be much more tame here than in Soul Society, surrounded by Shinigami.
So, grudgingly though, Grimmjow accepted and under the three years he managed to fit into the Kurosaki family just fine. As Ichigo grew up into a strikingly handsome and shockingly large, tall man, he inherited most of his old wardrobe and found that actually their tastes matched in most things.
Thus, even now, he was wearing Ichigo's old NICE VIBE t-shirt and had his blue hair fluffed up so fabulously and once more as he stood beside Ichigo, he grumpily noted that he almost looked boyish, compared to the other's so adult appearance.
"We're off then!" Ichigo called to his father and Isshin waved them off with a bright grin.
The tall Shinigami then led the way, Grimmjow catching up with him quickly and the two walked down the streets side-by-side, looking like a pair of old friends.
Actually, Ichigo thought that was what they were. Old comrades from a war they fought against each other, and yet… somehow not. Ichigo never considered the Arrancar as the ones that wanted power over Soul Society… their enemy was Aizen and no one else.
As they strolled together, Grimmjow brought something up to talk about, because he didn't like the feelings the silence gave him. Ichigo always brooded when silent and when Ichigo was brooding he looked exceedingly handsome in a strange, frowny way.
"So what were you planning to get them?" He asked, meaning, for Kurosaki's two sisters. They would have their birthdays soon.
Ichigo shrugged slightly. "Some plush toy for Yuzu and… I was thinking of a new baseball bat for Karin." He replied.
Baseball.
Grimmjow found there were quite a few things in this world that he could enjoy. Sports were definitely his thing. He was an active person that liked running around and moving his muscles so he very quickly found a bud in Karin and as weird as it was for both of them at first, they easily worked it out and the two played baseball, soccer or basketball together almost every weekend. Friday nights they watched boxing and the Kurosaki residence was now loud with twin voices of sport-enthusiasts.
"The bat sounds good." He agreed as they finally reached the sport equipment store and Ichigo went in, looking around for a good quality baseball bat.
They came out with their purchases a little later; Grimmjow insisted that Karin needed a new glove too because her old one was starting to rip at places. So with those in a bag carried by Ichigo, they walked on to their next destination: a toy shop.
As Grimmjow found out over the three years, Ichigo had a shockingly good taste in choosing plush toys for Yuzu. He found the best quality and knew exactly what the little girl desired in the current age-stage. So now, Ichigo easily picked out an awfully fluffy plush kitten that had nicely striped fur and looked so ready for snuggling. Grimmjow actually found it rather nice to pet but wouldn't indulge in it for long; he was a strong man, after all!
As Ichigo was paying, Grimmjow stood beside him and contemplated him silently. Over the three years he spent with the Kurosaki, he slowly understood the concepts of a family and silently, to himself, he noted that Ichigo would make a very good father, with that gentleness hidden beneath the rough, powerful body… and as Grimmjow understood, that was the role fathers had in a family: they were the protectors of the cubs and the mate and also the ones that took care of them. The head of the pack, he translated to himself.
He did not quite get the role of a mother yet, but he had a hunch sometimes. Especially on nights when after the silent family dinner Ichigo stayed up staring at the sky with that forlorn expression on his face… at those times, Grimmjow felt that something was missing… missing really, really badly from the Kurosaki family. Something safe and soft and warm that meant home.
He shook the somewhat annoying thoughts out of his head as they began walking again and was about to strike up another conversation and try to get into another cheeky banter with Ichigo when the other man stopped and frowned slightly. Grimmjow looked up and noticed that they were by the cemetery and Ichigo's friend, the megane-baka, was walking towards them.
"Ishida." Ichigo sounded surprised when he addressed the other. "How come you were in the cemetery…?" He wondered.
"Kurosaki." Ishida pushed his glasses up so the sunlight touched the lenses and it hid his gaze. "You are not the only one whose mother died." He murmured quietly.
Ichigo felt awkward as he replied with a gentle, honest 'I'm sorry.'
Ishida shook his head and looked up at the two finally. "Hello to you as well, Grimmjow."
"Aa." The former Espada hummed at the genius. He wasn't very fond of his mysterious, sneaky ways. He reminded him of Ulquiorra sometimes and he hadn't been on very good terms with him either.
"I never knew she died…" Ichigo muttered then.
"She passed away when I was ten." Ishida replied, his blue eyes shifting back to the Shinigami.
Grimmjow noted to himself again that he did not like how the Quincy looked at Kurosaki.
"I'm sorry… what happened? Did she get into an accident?" Ichigo frowned slightly.
"No." Ishida lowered his gaze, lifting a hand to push his glasses up again.
A flash of a lovely brunette's peaceful chalk-white face as she lay in the coffin.
"She was…"
A faint feel of his father's strong hand around his wrist as he yanked him away from the edge of the coffin so he couldn't see…
"…ill."
A sensation of nausea because he did see… see the ripped scars on her wrists, caused by sharp razors.
"Ah." Ichigo nodded faintly. "I see."
Ishida looked up, the two silent for a long while. Both knew the other was lying.
"Well, see you." Ishida said finally, turning to go. "Happy birthday to your sisters." He added as he slowly walked down the street in the opposite direction.
Ichigo stared after him for a long while.
Grimmjow rolled his eyes and shoved on his back. "Let's go already!" He grumbled and after Ichigo shook himself a little, the two were walking down the street towards their home again.
And that night, a shadow flitted through the town, searching…
To Be Continued
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