Somewhere between heaven and hell
Grimmjow/Ichigo
Prompt: somewhere between heaven and hell
There was a second in between every attack were Ichigo thought of the situation. The small window between the clash of their swords and the breath to groan the effort of moving, Ichigo wondered how the situation could've been different.
He wondered what Grimmjow had been in his past life. Maybe a rockstar, if he went by the hair. One of those crazy guys that smoked and drank like life was gonna end the next second, and sang like the devil in heaven.
Maybe he was a lot older than that. God knew how much time Grimmjow spent as an adjuchas, and as a menos grande before that. Maybe he'd been a noble and wore silly clothes and wigs, Ichigo liked to think that too.
He blocked Grimmjow's sword just a second too late and was sent flying into a building. Ichigo groaned and quickly wiped the blood from his face, snarling at Grimmjow while he arrancar seemingly laughed his ass off.
Ichigo stood up weakly and held his sword, trying to figure out Grimmjow's next move.
"Oh? Can you still stand shinigami?" He mocked.
"Shut up and fight me, Grimmjow!"
Sometimes Ichigo wonders how Grimmjow's hands would feel when they're not bruising him, hurting him. His hands would probably be rough from all the fighting. Would he be tender? Once or twice Renji had run his hand along Ichigo's arm, for no reason other than to call his attention, and despite the calluses from paperwork and sword training, Renji's hand had felt soft because there was no intention of hurting. Would Grimmjow be like that too?
Probably not.
Swords clash again and blood, sweat and spit are sent flying into each others face, but neither backs down, neither refuses to say 'I give', and neither wonders why they fight so fiercely only against each other.
They end up panting and tired in the park, next to a creek. The lie next to each other, their clothes torn and dirty with each other's blood, their wounds open and stinging with each movement.
Ichigo turns his head slightly to spit another insult, but instead he simply watches his enemy's profile. Without the mask, he looks like any other handsome young man. A strong chin, a sharp nose, even the constant scowl makes Grimmjow handsome in the most basic way. Ichigo feels tempted to blush when he realizes that.
Grimmjow suddenly turns his head and they stare at each other, eye to eye.
"Hey...." He pants out.
"...hey...." Ichigo responds quietly.
If only they hadn't been enemies. If only Ichigo had remained a regular boy who could see spirits, and if Grimmjow had someone been born human and not arrancar. Ichigo doesn't wan to think any further than that, because then he wouldn't be able to fight Grimmjow so well everyday, with his emotions pouring out with every attack.
"Next time will be the last." The arrancar warns, turning his eyes back to the sky.
"For you." Ichigo mumbles back angrily.
At the very least, he is grateful that they could meet.
END