So I've been sitting on this idea for a long while now, and finally felt the motivation to flesh it out and start writing it. It'll be several chapters long, and now that I have my new laptop up and running, will hopefully update regularly. Anyway! As promised, a much lighter story this time around.
Enjoy~
Far off into the future, the landscape has changed a great deal. On all sides, nothing but buildings stretch in a concrete forest. Trees are no longer a common thing, and the few species that haven't perished from the surface of the Earth are now found only where humans have planted them; high up along the balconies and ledges of homes and offices or in parks that occupy the tops of skyscrapers. Cars and vehicles are a thing of the past. The cities are so overcrowded that traveling by foot is now the easiest, quickest and most common form of transportation, be it via the staircases and elevators within buildings, or suspended walkways that span the distance from skyscraper to skyscraper.
Most people hardly even know what the ground looks like anymore, have never visited the Earth's surface far below where they live. Humanity did what it has always done best. It grew, stretched across all livable space upon the planet and when it ran out of room to grow outward, it went up. The average buildings stretch high into the lower part of the atmosphere, matching or even out reaching the hight of the very tallest of the skyscrapers and towers we see today. The buildings that rich and wealthy owners of well known business empires reach even higher and still more were always being developed and built taller. They reach so high that clouds drift between them and walls of glass reflect the sky.
Everything one needed to live comfortably could be found up in the main community. Trees provided oxygen, growing from the roofs, on balconies, even out of the sides of park buildings. The tops of some skyscrapers held whole fields and farms, where humanity's food supplies were raised. Hospitals, banks, businesses, government offices, even schools and tracks and football stadiums were found inside the towering buildings, high above the world. People had no use for the ground anymore, for the dirt and the soil, for the solid and unyielding and natural state of the Earth. Covered with the evidence of mankind's developments and endeavors, tracked and carved and crowded, it was no longer of use and so no longer a concern most bothered with.
As people went up, it naturally became a symbol of social status. The wealthy and powerful occupied the highest, newest sections buildings while the middle class and poor resided lower, where the buildings were in need of repair and the paint peeled. But even the poorest of people had never seen the ground, the real earth and dirt covered ground, where mankind had first started out at, where humanity had carved out it's existence for so long. There were stories of the ground, great and terrifying tales of beasts and creatures both duller and more brilliant than humans. Of countless kinds of plants with more variety of colors than imaginable. But next to no one could confirm those stories. They were just that; fairy tales, dreams and nightmares. And for the most part, no one really gave it much thought. Very few ever gave the ground so far below them much thought. It was inconsequential, unimportant, unreachable and pointless. So long as it continued to support the foundations of the paradises and everyday splendors found in their manmade jungle of buildings, it went without thought and without notice.
••••
With the rise of the sun each morning, the higher reaches were gifted a spectacular view of the beginning of the day. The clouds on a clear day captured the brilliant oranges and yellows and those colors were painted across the vista of unending buildings, their glass and mirrored sides reflecting the sun's light and the clouds. The sky above was blue and seemed to stretch out forever, a goal for humanity to reach towards. In the artificial fields, livestock roamed and grazed. Birds sang their melodies from the trees that grew around the city, a minimal of one on each balcony and used as landscaping around the entrances to the nicer buildings even though most entrances were located indoors. The sheltered walkways that led between skyscrapers bustled with people going to and fro, headed to work and to shopping malls or cafes. Their tops were of rounded, thick glass and their bottoms were designed in a way similar to a giant conveyor belt where people could stand and chat at their leisure, going in either direction, while they made their way between buildings and suspended miles from the forgotten ground far below.
Looking out from the walkways, a forest of glass and concrete was visible on all sides. Beautiful, elegant buildings twisted up into the sky, ever reaching higher like upraised arms. Down, the buildings seemed to stretch unendingly until they were lost in shadow and clouds and fog.
Outdoor cafes held elegant furniture and bustling, refined crowds of people. The railings of polished metal and robust glass were ringed in low growing plants of pretty greens and pinks and purples, colors that were vibrant and different from that of the artificial surroundings. Trees that had been engineered to grow to specific shapes and sizes formed umbrella-like shelters in the middle of the lightweight but sturdy tables that were constructed around them.
It was in places like this that the very wealthiest of the citizens spent their time. The high class that had both too much money and too much power occupied the outdoor cafes, socializing and reinforcing their place in the hierarchy that had formed.
It was here that a young man born into a well off family spent most of his days in luxury and boredom. His cloths were of the finest, tailored name brands. His identification code was tattooed proudly against the underside of his right wrist; name, date of birth, class and even his lineage. At most times, his long sleeves covered his ID, but it was easy enough to push up his cuffs and so show off just who he was or gain entry to places reserved for only those that could afford it.
The admittance fee to his favored cafe was paid off by flashing his code, where his ID was ran through the cafe manager's system and his tab was automatically added up and subtracted from his near limitless account. Once inside, he ordered his favorite tea and was shown to his usual spot, near the railing where he could look out over the endless city as well as keep an eye on the other patrons.
His father was a renowned doctor three buildings over, in the very tallest skyscraper in the city. His family had everything and anything they could ever need and yet, Ichigo always seemed to wear a scowl while he sipped his tea and listened idly as those of his own age and status chattered about nothing and everything. His riotous orange hair caught the rays of brilliant light and his handsome features caught the eye of many a man and woman, but his rich, coffee brown gaze ever drifted lower, out over the balcony and toward the short districts he was forbidden from exploring.
In the same block of the same neighborhood of the same city but in a very different world, the lower reaches -known as the short districts- were cast in dark, cool shadows with the fall of the sun each evening. Everything was washed in a monochrome spread of spilled inks, like an old television program; grainy and gritty and not quite realistic but all too accurate all the same. The windows were dingy, smeared in grime that had long ago set to the point of being un-washable. Cracks spiderwebbed some, others were boarded up. But the panes of glass that were still transparent enough to look through didn't give much of a view.
On all sides, no matter what window in which building, the view was always the same; concrete, metal, old, half rotted wood, all of which was stained and faded with age. The buildings stretched up so high as to wash the short districts in near permanent shadows. Even should one crane their neck to look as high as the human eye could see, even standing outside upon the balconies or the older, coverless, motionless walkways, said person would still be unable to see the tops of the buildings. They would see nothing but towering giants of metal and concrete and mortar stretching up to the heavens until the smog from the city clouded out the view.
To look down was to receive a similar view. The ground -still far below- was hidden in a thick, greyish fog that clung to the buildings' very lowest floors. All that was below the poorest districts was even older buildings, the foundations of what had been built upon. Sitting in disrepair and abandonment, the old concrete crumbled and often showed the metal skeleton below. On occasion, crews still scoured the ground, just often enough to keep the buildings strong enough to insure they didn't collapse.
The members of these crews were the only surviving humans to ever set foot on solid land, on a ground that wasn't artificial and didn't sway with the wind. They were the only ones to feel real dirt below their feet, to siphon soil through their fingers or smell the dew on the long, unkept and wild grass. They were the only ones to still know of nature and all her wonders.
It was dangerous and trying work. Work that broke bones and risked lives, work that required strength of mind and body, and it wasn't for the faint of heart. Crew members were scattered, hard to find. They often worked alone and were each assigned a territory, where they made rounds and identified potential problems in the structures of the buildings. Only the brave and stupid, or the desperate signed on to work the ground crews, but it was a necessary job.
It was here that another young man could be found, a young man with little to nothing to his name and even less to his credit. He had no social status, probably born to a poor family with no name and no money, not that he knew who they were. He lacked the ID tattoo that showed he even existed. But his shoulders were broad and his body was corded in the muscle of a lad that knew hard work. His clothing was stained with old mud and frayed in places and his hair stood in a barely controlled chaos, but his grin was wide and genuine and showed off white teeth.
Should anyone ever look long enough to notice, his features were angular and strong, but not sharp to the point of hawkish or being unattractive. Quite the opposite, really. Blue eyes seemed to reflect the sky that couldn't be seen, even when he was on the ground and hard at work. His arms were strong, his skin a sun-kissed bronze and his torso rippled with well earned muscle below a shirt that had seen better days, when he bothered to wear one at all.
Grimmjow was at the very bottom of the ladder when it came to the city's hierarchy, but his gaze was ever upward. He was a determined young man, stubborn and strong-willed. But his gaze wasn't turned toward the tall districts because of ambition, no, Grimmjow enjoyed the freedom accorded to him because of his anonymity. He merely looked up for the same reasons he had looked down, and had eventually led him to join the ground crews; curiosity.
"Grimmjow!" A young woman leaned over the half crumbling rail of one of the lowest balconies still intact. The wood below her hands was rotting and soft, layered in mold and moss. Her big, wheat grey eyes scanned what was visible of the earth below, through the fog that always seemed to undulate between the lower sections of the tall buildings. The shadows were so deep in most of the areas visible to her that it seemed as though night had come early.
She huffed an unsurprised breath when she didn't get a reply, but continued her search anyway. He couldn't have been far. Again, she leaned over the railing and called out into the emptiness, "Grimmjow! If you want to go to that fete tonight, you better hurry and get back up here so we can clean you up and you can look halfway civilized."
As if from no where, the tall, blue haired young man appeared almost directly below the balcony she stood on. Grimmjow grinned up at her, his feet firmly on the cracked earth of the ground and his form mostly hidden in the thick fog. "That's tonight?"
"Yes, Grimm, it was your idea to sneak in! Shouldn't you be the one to remember these things?" Nelliel rolled her eyes, shaking her head slightly. She too lived in the short districts, but still higher up than her friend. At the very least, she had an identification tattoo and an official lineage. She'd never set foot on the ground and really had no desire too. She didn't understand the lure it held for the blue haired man, but she'd long ago given up on trying to figure it out. Grimmjow was just Grimmjow and nothing would change him.
With a beautiful figure and a stunning, thick head of flowing, sea-foam green hair, Nelliel's family had high hopes that she would marry a man of higher standing and bring a bit of financial comfort to herself and her family, but Nel had little desire to live among that society, nor could she imagine marrying a man that simply found her appealing for her looks alone. She had grown up in the poor districts, and she was content with living the rest of her life there, happy, comfortable. Still, that didn't mean she thought herself below the higher classes and when her friends decided they wanted to go cause trouble for the privileged, she was all for it.
"I was working, gimme a break!" Grimmjow called back, a laugh in his tone as he was once more swallowed up by shadows and thick, rolling fog. Not more than a few minutes later, he reappeared, scaling the side of the building near where the balcony Nel stood upon was located.
Nelliel shook her head. She'd never understand how he managed to climb the sheer and seemingly smooth surface of a building so effortlessly, but then, perhaps it was a skill he had learned when he'd been just a boy, a street rat scampering under foot. Found parent-less and ID-less, Grimmjow's friends liked to joke that he had probably been born in a basement, but the comment most would take as a grievous insult only brought a good laugh from the young man. Half the time, he agreed that he probably had been born in a basement, a closed off, lightless space hidden even lower than the ground was.
Hardly even out of breath, Grimmjow pushed off the building, swinging himself over and grabbing hold of the rickety railing of the balcony. He caught hold with ease and pulled himself up and over to land on his feet beside his friend. Nel grinned and grabbed his wrist before turning about and dragging him back into the dilapidated building's interior. They took a right and began trotting up the first flight of stairs they came too, turning another sharp right at the landing to go even higher.
"Hurry and wash off." Nel demanded as they neared where she lived. Sneaking into her own home, she pushed passed the flimsy door. She looked first left, then right, and after insuring her parents were indeed both at work still, she pulled him into their four room abode, located several stories above ground level. "You can use my shower, just keep it quick."
"Heh, what? Do I look like a girl to you?" Grimmjow chuckled, crossing corded arms over his muscled, bare and sweat streaked chest. Working as part of the ground crew all day, dirt trailed up his arms and over his shoulders, smearing the golden skin of his abdomen.
"You certainly don't look like one, but with how long you tend to take to bathe and how much you like guys, sometimes I wonder." She laughed, jumping back and out of the way of his swiping grab as handsome features went from grinning to scowling. Her laughter only doubled as she gave him a quick nudge toward the curtain-less shower tucked in the back corner of her small, but clean and well kept bathroom.
He grunted a sound somewhere between amused and annoyed, and began tugging his dingy shorts down his lithe hips. The lack of privacy hardly bothered him and he quirked a brow over his shoulder as his shorts hit the tile floor and he bent to turn the water on. "Nnoitra comin' with us?"
"Of course." Nel answered, doing a valiant job of keeping her gaze trained on his face before she turned and started walking back toward the main room of her small home. "Just hurry so we can get changed and ready! He'll be meeting us here."
"Quit staring at me then, woman, Nnoi might get jealous." Grimmjow grinned as he taunted her and stepped under the steady stream of room temperature water. He closed his eyes and turned his face up into the stream, hands running through his chaotic, impossibly blue hair as the water began lifting some of the grime accumulated from his long day of work on the ground level.
Nelliel rolled her eyes, but didn't take the bait and instead continued to cross the small home.
A few minutes later, the shower shut off and Grimmjow stepped from the tub, water dripping from his lean body and weighing down his shaggy hair. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist before padding through the living space to find Nelliel and Nnoitra sitting in the main room, waiting for him to finish up. Both were already dressed in their best clothes, Nnoitra's long, inky hair tied back at the nape of his neck while Nel's cascaded over her shoulders in luxurious, perfect waves.
They both paused and looked up at him and Grimmjow smirked a shark grin as he looked back at them, but said nothing. They weren't together, and probably never would be, but Grimmjow adored teasing them mercilessly about it every chance he got. Nel rolled her eyes again and stood. Nnoitra attempted the same sarcastic reaction, but most of the sentiment was lost since only one of his eyes was visible.
Nnoitra stayed in his seat and tossed a bundle of clothing at the blue haired man, which Grimmjow caught. Shaking a pair of dark jeans out, Grimmjow stepped into them and pulled them up under the towel before removing it and letting it drop to the floor as he zipped and buttoned his clean pants. Snagging the shirt next, he unfolded it and quirked a brow as he looked over the clean, charcoal grey button up, certainly not one of his usual tee shirts.
Nnoitra caught the look as he finally straightened to his full, towering height. "Don't give me that look. If we're gonna sneak in ta the tall districts, you gotta look at least halfway decent. It was the nicest thing I had that would fit ya."
The taller man casually pushed Grimmjow into a sitting position and grabbed the blue haired man's right arm in his left hand. Flipping the appendage over so that Grimmjow's bare wrist faced up, he pulled a permanent, fine tipped marker from his pocket and pulled the cap off with his teeth.
Grimmjow watched as his friend made him a fake ID tattoo where he should have had one. They'd done this a hundred times before, having long ago realized it was easier to sneak in if people thought the blue haired man was at least a registered citizen and not a homeless rogue. "What would I do without you guys?" Grimmjow chuckled, leaning back to let Nnoitra work while Nel watched on.
"Never leave the ground." Nnoitra shot back, his words mumbled a bit as he spoke around the cap clenched between his teeth. He concentrated on what he was doing, keeping the lines of fake identification uniform and patterned after his own tattoo. When he finished, he straightened again and recapped his marker.
"Oh right." Grimmjow laughed, "Why the hell do I hang out with you guys then? Go away."
The lanky man smacked him across the back of the head and Grimmjow erupted in loud, barking laughter as he shrugged into the shirt. He buttoned it up and used his left hand to push his drying hair back and out of his face as he lifted his right and studied the fake tattoo he'd been given for the night. His blue brows furrowed, eyes narrowing as he looked at the letters, only half of which he could recognize.
"Ok, I realize I'm not as good at reading as you more educated and fancy people, but I'm pretty sure that," He pointed at the first letter of the first line, "is a D and my name starts with a G. What did you call me this time?"
Nel sent Nnoitra a slight glare and grabbed Grimmjow's hand to read what the taller male had written. "It's a B." She corrected, before what had been written really sank in. "Nnoi! You can't write that!"
"Says Bottom Dweller, coz if we didn't drag you from the ground, that's exactly what you'd turn into." Nnoitra laughed, his grin wide and flashing blunt teeth. "And of course I can write that!" He turned to Nel and hissed back at her. "No one's gonna read it, they'll see the dark ink and let him through when he flashes that shit eating, heart breaking grin a his."
It was Grimmjow's turn to bark a laugh, un-offended and amused by it all. And hey, Nnoitra kind of had a point. Barely half an hour later, the three were hurrying through the building, rushing up stair cases and running by other citizens as they worked their way higher and higher. Grimmjow led the way, an expert at avoiding policing authority figures that would normally be in charge of keeping the lower class where they were supposed to be. They darted out onto balconies, sprinted across coverless walkways to other buildings, and continued their upward journey.
He slowed their pace just in time to catch their breath as they made it to the two hundred and thirty-third floor. Walking with all the confidence in the world, like he lived in and owned the high rise building they were trespassing in, Grimmjow plastered his usual grin across his handsome features as he sauntered toward the low railing that acted as a sort of worthless barricade to mark the boundaries of the VIP event. His sharp eyes scanned the already thick crowd, searching for guards before he casually hopped the fence and stuffed his hands into his pockets once he hit the ground on the other side. Nel and Nnoitra followed his lead.
There were people all around them, some of which whispered and pointed, but the three paid them hardly any attention. Working his way more towards the middle of the large, high ceilinged, ballroom style space, Grimmjow not so accidently bumped into a man about his size, though slimmer. Apologizing words that seemed far too polite for the normally surely man and giving a small but well balanced and formed bow, Grimmjow backed away and excused his feigned clumsiness. The man he'd bumped into waved the accident off with cold indifference and turned back toward where he was headed and Grimmjow grinned as he opened his hand and began wrapping the brilliant, silver admittance band he'd stolen around his own wrist. The name on it wasn't his, nor did it match the fake, pitiful excuse of a name written on his wrist or any of the numbers there, but no one would notice, they'd see the silver color and think him a member of the tall districts and so not bother him. Anything he chose to buy with the band would be charged to the tab of the poor guy he'd stolen it from and by the time the man realized he was being charged for things he hadn't boughten, Grimmjow and his friends would be long gone, back in the short districts.
Nnoitra and Nel didn't bother with a band, if they decided they wanted or needed anything during the party, they only needed to ask their friend and Grimmjow would happily secure it for them.
Together, the three wandered through the crowds in a state just short of awe. Around them, the large space was nearly the size of a city block and isles were mapped out like roads, with carts and stalls on either side and venders trying to sell their food and wares. Wonderful smells of foods and perfumes wafted through the air and colors danced through the space, rich fabrics and banners. Working through the crowds, jesters and costumed performers juggled and preformed magic tricks or put on small shows.
The ceiling high above was arching and elegant, carved with intricate spires and statues along the pillars. Mirrored windows lined the domed roof and wrapped around the rounded main hall, showing as the sun dipped below the horizon and lit the blue sky in fiery and brilliant colors. It was a sight the three weren't privy to often.
They're own clothing was less than apt compared to the expensively tailored cloths of those around them, the higher class citizens that actually resided in the upper floors of the skyscrapers. But there were so many people around and various things to keep everyone sufficiently distracted and entertained, that Grimmjow and his friends went mostly unnoticed.
Nel pointed toward one particular vender, her large eyes going wide and soft. Displayed on the immaculately clean and well kept cart, candies and chocolate treats had been arranged in various colors and prices. Nelliel made a sound of want and pouted, "Wha! They all look so good! How do these people afford these things though?"
Grimmjow smirked and flashed her a wide grin, "They're rich bastards, Nel, they could buy the entire scraper your home is in if they wanted to." But he marched up to the vender and picked the biggest piece of pink rock candy the merchant had and flashed his sliver wrist band. The vender rang him up, scanning the barcode on the wrist band and thanked a Master Kuchiki.
The blue haired young man nodded, sweeping into a slight bow as he gave the vender a sly wink. "Only the best for the lovely lady."
The man wrapped up the purchased candy and gave "Master Kuchiki" a knowing smirk in return, readily agreeing as his eyes panned over Nelliel's form in a telling way.
Nel blushed bright red but took the candy as Grimmjow handed it over and they continued on their way. She smacked the big male playfully but eagerly unwrapped the treat and thanked him. Making their way toward an area that wasn't quite so heavily crowded, they found an empty bench situated in a grassy median, pretty flowers and low shrubs growing in the small but well manicured area, and sat down as Nelliel enjoyed her treat.
People walked by, talking amongst themselves and carrying bags filled with their most recent purchases. "Thank you, Mr. Kuchiki." Nel sang with dripping sarcasm. "Do we even know who that is?"
"Nope, just another upper class old geezer that likes spending money on pretty girls." Grimmjow told her, grabbing hold of the wrist of the hand she held her candy in. He tugged her hand toward himself, "But you're welcome. So you gonna share?"
"Hah, you wish." She jerked her hand and the candy away, giving the blue haired man a smug smile. A crunch turned her smile into a look of horror as her head whipped around and her eyes landed on Nnoitra, seated on her other side and now chewing the top part of the bright pink rock candy. "Nnoi!"
The two men burst into loud laughter as a pout settled across pretty features. Nel stuck the candy in her mouth, holding it with her teeth so her hands were free, and smacked the back of Grimmjow's and Nnoitra's heads simultaneously in retribution. Both ducked forward, hands going to the abused spot as they turned glares on the young woman seated between them. That smug smile worked it's way back across Nel's features as she leaned back on the bench and began enjoying the rare treat once more.
They missed as depthless, brown eyes shown with mirth, trained in their direction, and a smirk interrupted the usual scowl that adorned boyishly handsome features. Ichigo quickly averted his attention back to his talking friends as two of them bickered back and forth, leaving him walking off to the side of them and left out of the conversation. He could tell, just by looking at the three nameless citizens on the bench that they didn't belong there, probably from the middle districts. But it didn't concern him, so what should he care if poorer people were sneaking their way into the fete. He continued on like he hadn't seen them as he and his group of friends drifted passed.
They may have missed the lad's attention, but Grimmjow didn't miss as the high standing young man walked by. His brilliant, swirling blue eyes landed on the slim figure, taking in the rich fabric his tailored pants were made of and the slim hips and long legs they hid. Gaze traveling up, he was gifted the sight of a deep violet shirt that hugged the young man's lean upper body and finally, obscenely orange, untamed hair.
Blue brows arched slightly, Grimmjow's head turned to follow as the lad that was clearly from the tall distracts walked by, finally interrupting the small squabble between his friends with an upraised hand and a few words tumbling from pink lips. At Grimmjow's side, Nel and Nnoitra both stared at their distracted friend before following his line of sight.
"Oooh no. Don't even think about it, Grimm." Nnoitra warned, seeing who and what had caught the big man's attention. "Do you know who that is?"
A small sneer twisted Grimmjow's features as he deadpanned at his lanky friend. "How the hell would I know?"
"He held up the hand with his ID on it, blue..."
But Grimmjow only lifted a single brow in dull inquiry, as if to point out the obvious, "Nnoi... can't read that well, you know..." He drawled.
Nnoitra rolled his single eye, "He was marked a Class A. That kid wont even recognize you as a living human."
"Isn't that the oldest kid of that doctor that owns that big hospital?" Nelliel asked, "Actually, I'm pretty sure he owns the whole medical scraper..."
She received only bland looks of slight confusion.
"Dr. Kuro-something, I think. Kurosaki, maybe?" She shrugged, "Either way, Nnoitra's right, he's way too high on the ladder." Nnoitra nodded in agreement with her.
But Grimmjow didn't respond and she turned to look at the stubborn man only to find that Grimmjow was already on his feet and headed in the direction that the orange haired lad had disappeared in. He hurried through the crowds, slipping between people and cutting around them as he scanned for bright orange hair. He came to a screeching halt, nearly running a little girl over and almost tripping himself with how fast he stopped his momentum, before jockeying around her and continuing on his way.
"Hey!" He shouted as he finally spotting the color he was looking for. It couldn't be anyone else, seeing how horrendously and yet perfectly bright that spiky hair was. "Uhh... Kurosaki, wait up!" But if the young man heard him, he made no show of it and continued to navigate through the crowds.
Contrary to what the brash, blue haired man thought, Ichigo heard him just fine and his brows furrowed slightly as he realized the lower class man knew his name.
"Ichigo?" One of the young man's friends leaned in a bit closer, "Who is that guy? His actions are rather rude and barbaric."
Ichigo frowned all the harder and shook his head slightly. "I've honestly no idea. Why do you think I'm ignoring him?"
He and his friends took a left at the next intersection, heading deeper into the heart of the festivities. Music played from a center stage, live performers entertaining the fete-goers. Ichigo turned slightly to look over his shoulder, wondering if his blue haired stalker would follow. He smirked when he saw the man frown and go straight where he'd turned left. He really was kind of attractive though, in a wild, dangerous sort of way. Not the kind of person he could be seen with.
Still continuing his lazy perusal of the festival grounds, Ichigo split away from his friends under the excuse to get some food, which he fully intended to do, but as he walked by a row of stands, each advertising a different type of food item, he walked right into something solid and living. Jolting in surprise, a hurried apology left his lips as his orange brows rose. His gaze shot back in front of him, to whom he'd collided with, only to come face to face with a dark grey, button up shirt that really did very little to hide the chest below it.
Frown etching back across his features, Ichigo looked higher still and met impossibly blue eyes, their color nearly outshining the sky above on a clear day. "Pardon me, but do I know you?"
"Nope." The bluenette let a pleased, confident smirk stretch his handsome features and Ichigo fought down the slight reddening in his own.
"Then... I suppose you know me?" He asked, though it seemed rather obvious since the bigger man had been calling his name. His surname, at least. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"No, I have no idea who you are, actually." The big man's voice was like rolling thunder, deep and grating yet smooth as silk.
But Ichigo's scowl only deepened anyway. Then he rolled those rich, coffee brown eyes of his as if the answer was obvious and tapped his right wrist with his left pointer finger. "Ah. Just very observant than. Again, is there anything I can do for you?"
The man grunted a laugh and shook his head, but Ichigo had no idea which he was denying, if he was indeed denying anything at all. Instead, the bigger man held out his right hand, clearly looking to shake Ichigo's and introduced himself. "Name's Grimmjow."
"Pleasure." Ichigo half drawled, not taking the offered hand as the beginnings of a sly smirk tried to tug at his lips as his dark eyes lit up with a gleam all of their own. "You don't belong here, do you, Grimmjow?"
Grimmjow faltered slightly, trying to read the smaller male and figure out just what the other was thinking. He knew the orange haired male was up to something, but what that was, he had no idea. He slowly lowered his hand back to his side as it grew obvious the other, obviously this Kurosaki guy Nel had mentioned, wasn't going to introduce himself in return. He'd honestly thought introductions were common etiquette, but maybe not amongst the higher classes...
As he lowered his hand, those commanding brown orbs dropped to glance at his wrist. The fake ID wasn't visible because of the way his arm was turned and his sleeve was pulled down, but a peek of the borrowed silver band was.
Ichigo smiled an almost sweet, yet playful smile and pointed. "You might want to return that before you get caught." He cautioned, then turned away and called over his shoulder, "I hope your friend enjoyed her candy, that was very sweet of you."
Grimmjow frowned, watching him as he retreated. But as the smaller paused next to one of the many guards patrolling the fete, motioned back toward where he'd left Grimmjow, blue eyes went wide and the bigger man turned and ducked down the nearest isle before taking off and away. He yanked the silver band from his wrist as he ran and, passing by an unfortunate man, he once more accidently bumped into a random stranger. Apologizing, he bowed slightly and turned to keep going, leaving the stolen band in the stranger's pocket and disappearing around another turn.
After a few minutes of hurried search, he found Nelliel and Nnoitra and rushed up behind them. They jumped in surprise as he clapped his hands against their shoulders and turned them toward the nearest exit. "Time to go." He announced, voice low as they moved.
"What?" Nel turned toward him with a slightly worried expression, but didn't pause or try to stop. "Already?"
"What'd you do this time? Get yourself in trouble again?" Nnoitra chuckled.
But this time around, Grimmjow wasn't laughing about it. "Just did something really fucking stupid." He grumbled in answer, taking a sharp veer through the merchant carts and around street performers. "Hurry up."
They rounded another section of venders and Grimmjow stopped dead as he watched a group of guards debrief another unit. One was busy directing others, holding his hand up a little above himself as he told his men what to look for and described the person they were searching for.
"Dammit." Grimmjow growled, quickly growing angry. He pulled Nel and Nnoitra around and quickly gave them instructions. "Leave just like any normal couple, got it? I don't think they'll be looking for you guys."
He started to back away, his eyes glancing toward the guards, but his lanky friend caught hold of his arm. "What about you?"
Grimmjow let a cocky grin crease his angular features, "Don't worry about me, I'll meet you below." And with that, he took off, quickly disappearing in the crowd like he hadn't been standing there with them at all.
Nnoitra shook his head and sighed, but he grabbed Nel's hand and turned around. They walked right through the main exit, right passed the guards looking for their friend, just like any other couple, before quickly taking off down floor after floor toward Nelliel's home and ultimately where Grimmjow would likely show up.
Still in the ballroom styled area where the fete was being held, Grimmjow let out a deep rumble of laughter as he skidded around a corner and tore off down another isle, guards attempting to keep up. He already knew just where he'd be making his escape -and it wasn't a guarded doorway- but first he wanted a word with a certain orange haired Mr. Kurosaki.
He found who he was looking for a few minutes later, the smaller male once again surrounded by the friends he didn't really seem to say much to. Like he had with Nnoitra and Nelliel, Grimmjow ran right up behind him. He hooked one arm over Ichigo's shoulders as the orange haired male jerked in surprise, a small squeak of startlement escaping him. The bigger man grinned, his features close to Ichigo's own, and rumbled in that shiver-worthy voice of his.
"Nice meeting you," He told the smaller, still not knowing what the young man's first name was. "Thanks for the heads up, Little Birdie, but the guards in the tall districts are pretty worthless and outta shape."
He laughed as brown eyes went wide, then daringly pressed a quick and mostly innocent kiss to the smaller's temple before releasing him and continuing his run, all before the guards could catch up to him. A moment later, said guards rushed passed Ichigo and his friends as the group stood stunned and motionless, staring after the odd, blue haired man.
Grimmjow rounded another bend and doubled back. When he reached the gated off boundaries of the block, he hurdled over and rushed straight for the balcony that would lead him to the outside and, should he fall, to his death. The guards screamed orders for him to stop, their shouts loosing the commanding tones and gaining ones of disbelief as Grimmjow ran right up to the railing with no signs of slowing. He braced his hands on the just over waist hight rail and pushed himself up and over, dropping from sight. The guards reached the rail just in time to realize he'd caught the very bottom of the balcony and swung himself under, to land on the floor of the balcony that sat a level below.
The blue haired man grinned, saluted up at them, and turned to take off back into the building, now a full floor below his pursuers.
Thanks for reading~ I would love to hear your thoughts!