First Bleach fic I wrote, for my tumblr RP blog. You don't really have to know the details, just that Grimmjow and Ulquiorra are human.

looking into the same eyes
the sky and earth meet
like gazes
a cracked mirror reflection
who are you
were you
will you be?
does the reflected self have the answer?
search the broken glass
for the heart thought forgotten
and you'll find you again

cracked mirror gaze

When Grimmjow didn't return to the Kurosaki household that night, Ichigo wasn't all that concerned. But when Ulquiorra filled him in on what had happened – though he was pretty sure he hadn't been given the whole story – that's when he started to worry. He spent the next two days looking for him around the town and waiting around at home for him to get his ass back. Finally – even though he really hadn't wanted to, he went to Urahara.

Turns out he should have done that in the first place. Urahara had cheerfully informed him that yes, he knew where Grimmjow was – he was down in the training room. He'd been there since Wednesday evening.

Ichigo immediately stepped out of his body and headed down. The training room was quiet – unusual for when Grimmjow was there.

"Grimmjow?" He called. "You here?"

There was no answer. He sighed, and wandered in further. He looked around, trying to focus on finding Grimmjow's presence. It was easy enough to find, once he was looking, and he headed off in that direction.

He hadn't expected to find the former Espada sitting curled against a cliffside, his face buried in his hands.

"...Grimmjow?" He asked again, softer. "Are you okay?"

In retrospect, he probably should have expected Grimmjow to attack him. The former Espada launched himself to his feet and threw himself at Ichigo, fists flying, not even bothering to pick up the zanpakuto that had been next to him.

"Whoah!" He yelped, jumping backwards. "Grimmjow, what the hell? Cut it out! Stop!"

Grimmjow's eyes flickered up to meet his, and he obviously didn't like what he saw.

"Fuck you, Kurosaki!" He roared, voice hoarse and thick with emotion. "Just- Just fucking leave me alone! Leave me the fuck alone and stop fucking looking at me like that!"

Ichigo stepped forward, making Grimmjow jerk back. But Ichigo grabbed his wrist anyway.

"Ulquiorra told me what happened, Grimmjow. I'm not leaving you alone, okay? Let me help, if I can."

Grimmjow laughed bitterly. "Yeah, like you can fucking help me." He growled. "You know how you can fucking help me? By letting me beat the shit out of you 'til I fucking feel better."

Ichigo sighed. "I'm not gonna do that, Grimmjow. That's not gonna help anything." He paused. There had been something in Grimmjow's voice...he recalled something that Ulquiorra had said about the incident Wednesday night. 'I think he...doesn't want to believe he's who he used to be anymore. Because he's come to hate what he's done as a Hollow so much, if he acknowledges that he's been the same person the whole time, he'll hate himself even more.'

Then it hit him. And suddenly, a lot of things made sense.

"Grimmjow..." He began. "Why do you hate me so much? Why do you constantly tell me you hate my eyes, the way I look at you? Why would beating me up make you feel better? Is it because...I remind you of yourself?"

Grimmjow's eyes widened, and he jerked his arm back. "What the fuck do you know about me, Kurosaki? Nothing! So don't- don't-" He stopped, staring at Ichigo's face. At Ichigo's eyes again. Sympathy, and concern, and a desire to help him. He choked back a ragged sob. Ichigo reached out for him again, and Grimmjow snapped.

He pushed Ichigo away from him, stumbling back a few paces. "Why?" He screamed at Ichigo. "Why do you have my eyes? Why the fuck are you so much like the way I was! I can't fucking look at you anymore without seeing who I used to be! And I can't fucking be that person anymore! I can't fucking be him, because he's FUCKING DEAD! He's FUCKING DEAD, and all that's left is a fucking goddamn Hollow who took everything he believed in and pissed all over it!" His voice caught, nearly choking on the emotion in his words. "All that's left is a fucking stupid-ass animal of a Hollow in a dead man's shape, and you and your goddamn kindness and your goddamn eyes and your goddamn sisters just keep fucking reminding me I can't ever be him again, because Masaru is dead and if Grimmjow and Masaru are the same fucking person, how can I even look at myself without being fucking disgusted by just how much I fucking flushed my morals down the goddamn toilet!"

Ichigo was at a total loss for words as Grimmjow's emotional rant choked off, and tears started slipping down his face. He hadn't been expecting that at all, and now here was the former Sexta Espada crying in front of him, torn between who he'd been and what he'd become.

He stepped forward again, gently grabbing Grimmjow's shoulders and easing him to the ground. He didn't protest or fight this time, and the two boys were sitting on the ground together, Ichigo's hands still on Grimmjow's shoulders.

"Okay, I, uh...I wasn't expecting that, but...okay." He paused, trying to come up with words. He wasn't all that good at comforting people, but in this case, it seemed really important that he try. "Look, Grimmjow, uh..."

He paused again, looking at Grimmjow, who was still crying; ugly, broken sobs shook his shoulders as tears dripped down his face.

He tried again, just saying whatever came to mind, and hoped it made sense.

"I don't think...I don't think you're the same person, though at the same time...I don't think you're not. I mean...when a ghost becomes a Hollow, they lose their heart, right? That's what leaves the hole. They lose their Chain of Fate and their heart. So, Masaru – that was your name? Masaru became Grimmjow. You didn't have your heart, so whatever you did wasn't Masaru doing it. It wasn't you. But you're human again, now, so you have your heart back. And, well...you're still Grimmjow, in a way, but you have Masaru's heart back, so you're him, too. The thing is...yeah, you did a lot of kinda shitty things as an Espada. And yeah, if you were anything like me, that's not the best thing in the world to think about – I know I had a hard time dealing with the twenty minutes I went full Hollow and trashed Ulquiorra and nearly hurt Uryu and Inoue. But you have to deal with it. So yeah, you did a lot of shitty things, but the fact that you feel so terrible about it proves you've got your heart back. You're...well, even if you're not completely Masaru again, you've got that part of you back. So don't...don't keep thinking about what you did, and whether you can face yourself, just...face yourself. Own up to it, and move on. Yeah, Grimmjow the Espada was kind of an asshole, but Grimmjow the human gets to start all over again. You've got Masaru's heart, so you can choose who you want to be." He stopped and laughed softly. "God, I hope that made sense..."

He looked over at Grimmjow to find the former Espada staring at him, his tears stopped and dried. Ichigo blinked. "What? Did I really sound that stupid?"

Then Grimmjow started laughing, and Ichigo relaxed.

"Fuck, Kurosaki, you're...you're something. Hah...you're just as bad at that kinda shit as I was." His amused grin turned into an almost nostalgic smile. "Ghosts I talked to would always give me this look like I was fuckin' on something when I tried to comfort 'em and shit. Was always better at punching people out to make them feel better."

Ichigo blinked, and laughed. "Really? Funny, I do the same thing. That's half the reason most of the punks in Karakura are scared shitless of me – the other half because I end up having to beat them up after they call me out on my hair."

Grimmjow snorted. "Damn it, Kurosaki, stop stealing my life. You think I didn't get pushed around for my hair? It's fucking yellow. Ended up nearly fucking myself over by running around on the streets as a kid 'cause I didn't want to go to school and deal with that bullshit." Something familiar passed over his face, and Ichigo didn't have to wait long to figure out what it was. "My mom managed to stop my ass from getting killed or ending up a crazy little homicidal street kid. Got me into a martial arts dojo and shit, life was actually not shitty for a bit..."

Ichigo was quiet for a moment. He knew what had happened somehow, could feel it. Maybe because he'd seen the look on Grimmjow's face before, in his own mirror? They were pretty similar, it was obvious now, so...

"She died, didn't she? Your mom."

Grimmjow flinched, and looked over at Ichigo to snap at him, but stopped when he saw and recognized the look on Ichigo's face.

"...Yeah. She...it was..." He tried to explain, uncharacteristically stumbling on words, but Ichigo cut him off.

"You know my mom? Dad's got that picture of her in the living room, you've seen it...she...she's dead too. She died..." It was hard to say, still, and trusting someone besides Rukia with it was even harder, but somehow he knew this was okay. "She died protecting me from a Hollow."

Grimmjow's expression answered the question he hadn't needed to ask. It was a long time before he spoke.

"...You too, huh, Kurosaki...?" He managed, smiling bitterly. "You lost her too."

Ichigo nodded. "Yeah, I...it never really leaves you, you know?"

"Boy, do I." He laughed suddenly. "We really are a lot alike, shit. No wonder your sisters like me."

Ichigo snorted. "Yeah, they probably noticed already. They're somehow a bit more perceptive than me about that kind of thing."

The two were quiet for a long moment, neither of them good at conversation.

"...So are you gonna be alright, Grimmjow?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be okay."

"Do you still want to beat the shit out of me?"

"If you're up for it, sure. I won't say no to a good spar. But...nah, Kurosaki. We're cool."

Ichigo grinned. "That's good. So go get your sword. I'm down here, so we might as well have a little fun, right?"

Grimmjow stood, grinning back. He looked like a weight had been lifted as he turned to grab his sword, and Ichigo was relieved.

"Oi, you're on, Kurosaki! Let's do this!" Grimmjow called, and Ichigo snapped to attention.

"Right, right, let's go!"

The two men laughed together, and drew their swords for a spar, the air between them cleared and a weight lifted.

Things would be alright, after all.