In honour of Grimmjow's birthday (and the fact I finally wrote something that isn't complete trash) I have written this. No promises of when it will be updated but I'll try my best. Yes it is a light slash between my two favourite Bleach characters Ulquiorra and Grimmjow, however they do not belong to me. Forgive me for mixing Japanese culture with American also forgive me for gammatical errors.

I did a lot of research for this story therefore it is based on real facts. Japan has the second largest population of homeless people next to the U.S.

Homeless Trash

Chapter One

A lone teen let loose a string of colourful curses as he trekked home in the violent snowstorm. He had reason to, after all, it was only the first week of December and there was zero visibility, about a meter of snow, and a temperature of approximately thirty below zero.

This teenager had hair almost as colourful as his curses. He was wearing his school uniform including the jacket but he was too cool to wear real winter gear. Oh, how he regretted it now. Normally a teenager as cool as this one wouldn't be walking home alone but, due to the weather, and the fact today was the last day of school before winter break, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques was alone.

The twenty minute walk from the school to his house felt like forever and a half to him. 'Great,' he thinks to himself, 'now I'm gonna have fuckin' hypothermia'. Once again he brings his numb hands to his lips in vain attempt to warm them. Although Grimmjow was sixteen he had only turned so a few months back rendering it impossible for him to have his licence yet.

At long last he made it to his house and marched up the steep driveway, only slipping twice. As he neared the porch steps he realized something was there that shouldn't be. His eyes widened. "Shit!" Grimmjow dashed over to the figure all the while thinking; 'Don't be dead! Don't be dead!' Pulling back the man's hood a bit he searched for a pulse. 'Thank you' he thought, as he pulled out his cell phone, numb fingers forgotten in his hassle. His mind halted though as his finger hovered over the "1" before he snapped the phone shut. The hospital would not receive this man, not without the man's credit card or a credit card from the man's family, which Grimmjow was not.

Now Grimmjow had two options; he could leave the man to die or he could bring him inside and hope he would recover. Grimmjow was a lot of things; a bad student, a rebel, a trouble maker, a bully, technically a gang member, overall he is what some would call "badass". Despite this Grimmjow wasn't really all that bad, he did what he had to rebel against his mother and make friends, if you could call his gang that, at least he wasn't a loner. So Grimmjow couldn't just leave the man to die on his own front lawn.

Fishing his keys out of his bag he unlocked the front door and threw his bag in. Then he returned to the frozen man and proceeded to carry him into the house. To Grimmjow's surprise the man weighed about as much as his school bag had, times two.

Once inside he set the man down and locked the door only to realize, "Great, now what?" It wasn't like he saved lives on a daily basis heck, he didn't even know how to cope with the weather. This was Japan for peat sakes, not the North Pole, he didn't even own a snow shovel! Looking down at the man again he realized how much frost clung to him, turning him purple. Grimmjow checked for a pulse again, just to ensure the man was still among the living, he was. After brushing most of the snow off him Grimmjow carried the man upstairs to one of the spare bedrooms before placing him on the bed.

He glared at the offending figure on the bed, he looked more comfortable there than he had on the floor but he still looked freezing cold and he was getting ice all over the bed. "Well, I have to remove his boots." Grimmjow decided talking it out to reinsure himself. So after dealing with the frozen laces, the old work boots were tossed on the floor. "Shit his feet are blue." In all honesty, the boots were clearly several sizes too big and the man wore no socks, what was Grimmjow expecting? Picking up one foot gingerly Grimmjow's first thought was how surprisingly clean and small they were. His second thought was how they were probably frozen prompting him to examine the gloveless hands to find them in a similar condition.

Quickly dashing out of the room Grimmjow took off his own shoes, grabbed a bowl of warm water and a dishcloth from the kitchen and a pair of socks from his room, before returning to the frozen figure. Hoping he was doing the right thing, he stuck the cloth in the water, wrung it out and proceeded to warm the man's feet with it. When the man's feet were no longer blue Grimmjow placed his own too large socks on them. He continued to warm the man's hands in the same manner.

Grimmjow stood back and admired his work. "Ha! Beat that hypothermia!" But his joy was short lived, the man was still unconscious. Checking the time Grimmjow realized it was quickly approaching five and called his work to tell his boss he wouldn't be coming. After seven full minutes of being verbally blasted through his phone Grimmjow hung up and looked at the man again.

"Ugh! Why isn't the shit waking up?" Perhaps his body was still cold? Yeah, that was it. Grimmjow moved to unzip and remove the man's tattered jacket. "Fuck, he's only a kid." Yes, before him lay a boy who appeared no older than thirteen, now only in ripped jeans, a baggy T-shirt and Grimmjow's socks.

Leaving the room Grimmjow refilled the bowl with warm water before returning to the child. For an hour Grimmjow worked on defrosting the boy until all the blue was gone and he felt warm. Lifting the boy to place him under the covers Grimmjow realized how light he was and figured he needed a warm meal. Could he feed him soup though if he wasn't awake? Did Grimmjow even have any soup?

Marching back downstairs to the kitchen Grimmjow raided his own cupboards in search of some soup he could feed the kid. He had beef stew and miso soup, but both of those were no good seeing as they needed chewing. Finally he landed upon something. "'Vegetable Broth', why the fuck do I have vegetable broth in my cupboards?" The box was dusty but its content was still good seeing it had yet to reach its expiration date. So following the instructions Grimmjow prepared a pot. When it was done he poured it into a bowl and grabbed a spoon from the draw.

Careful not to spill, the teen carried the broth up to the boy who was just as Grimmjow had left him. Placing a finger into the bowl Grimmjow was pleased with the temperature. Placing said finger into his mouth he mused quietly to himself, "Shit's not half bad." Now however he had to get the broth down the kid's throat. Placing a small amount of liquid on the spoon he poured a few drops into the boy's slightly parted lips. It seemed to have worked.

Repeating the process a third time Grimmjow realized how long it would take to empty the bowl. Not to mention the entire pot downstairs, which he had planned on feeding the kid. Maybe he could have it himself, after all it was cold and rather late. His attention was brought back to the present when the figure bolted upright coughing violently. Doing so almost resulted in knocking Grimmjow and the bowl of broth off the side of the bed. When the coughing fit had passed the most emotionless emerald green eyes bore into sapphire blue.

Ok that's chapter one, review? It's my birthday too.