Background information: Renji is a hitman, wants to kill Byakuya, fun fun fun...

I'm just kidding.

I~I~I~I~I

I hate this kind of cold. No, there is nothing distinct about it. Same old late January chill as yesterday, and the day before that too. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary really, but for some reason the cold feels so different when you have nowhere to go.

The wind bit and nipped every so often, receding back when it felt I'd endured enough. Never before had I so passionately regretted leaving my jacket at home. See, it was easy to pretend that the snow wasn't all that cold, even when it was probably twenty something below freezing—just ignore the slow, icy burn and grimace through it. Bluffing the weather, as Zaraki liked to call it. But where was the upside if no one was there to poke you in the shoulder, laughing at your own foolishness and unfortunate inability to check the weather before going outside? Only a friend could make such a bad situation better.

Loneliness could really magnify how bad a situation was. It made the air seem so threateningly crisp and raw that it stung every time a current brushed against my face. The town exhaled. Streets empty. Quiet. I bet this is how being the last person left on the planet would feel. An endless void. Hell, minus the flames.

Time and time again I have tried to ignore that feeling, but to simply do so is beyond the bounds of possibility. I have noticed that the state of lonesomeness has a tendency to allow old pain and regret slip back into new thoughts. That is why I never did like winter. Truth be told, fall wasn't one of my favorites either. I believe spring was the season I enjoyed most, solely because of the happiness that the mere mention of the word brought to mind. Spring meant prosperity and hope. Life and laughter, with the glow of sunshine always there to illuminate the dark.

Yeah, yeah, I know. The whole "everything is bright and happy" mentality is a bit too optimistic, unrealistically so. Life wasn't all rainbows and smiles and shit. Of course it's wasn't. Nothing ever was, if you excluded those kiddie shows like Sesame Street or whatever. But I'd rather have false expectations than the piercing memories that came coupled with my reminiscence of ice and snow.

"Bet your freezing your little ass off, redhead. It's snowing. Fucking put on a jacket, moron."

Deep voice. Rough, loud, and obnoxious, like the sound a motorcycle makes when it speeds down the interstate. He's the kind of guy who would drive one, too. If he actually could afford it.

"Oh, gimme a break. Stop acting like you give a damn."

He snorted, making it obvious that he didn't.

"Don't flatter yourself."

He popped his collar—like this was the 80's or something—and the hair that framed his face was wild and unruly. Curls styled forward, sides slicked up; not long enough to make a mohawk, but the notion was apparent. Like powdery blue flames. With his hands buried in his pockets and face contorted in an everlasting scowl, one in their right mind would find him intimidating. After all, the only thing soft about him were those baby blue's that shone prettily when he spoke. But that was where any sign of humanity in him ended. Grimmjow was a beast. He would chew you up and spit you out without a second thought.

The blinking traffic light above shone down on us, making his glossy black boots reflect mustard gold for short intervals. He stepped into the pool of yellow—the only light in an otherwise pitch black intersection.

Proceed with caution.

"So what do you want?" Right about now, I'm regretting what I said about being alone. I'd rather be alone than standing in the middle of a dark street with this guy, of all people.

"Kenpachi has a task for you. Congrats, you get to go kill people."

I hate that grin of his. It makes me sick. This job is some kind of game to him. It's a joke. All the people that die, he doesn't give a shit. I bet he thinks its funny too. Even if all he is is Kenpachi Zaraki's messenger boy, he's a devil in his own right.

"No thanks," I said, though I knew it was not the answer he wanted. He'd persist, just like a fly that buzzed around until it got whatever it wanted.

Confirming my predictions, he howled in amusement. I hated his laugh too. Add that to the list. I hated everything about this man. Sure, he was attractive, but that's about as good as it got. I knew better than to judge by a picture frame instead of the picture inside.

His laughter ceased. "What? Don't tell me you've gone soft. Or is it just because now that she's dead, you suddenly think killing people is wrong? Ha! You're pathetic."

I took a step closer to him. We were toe to toe, and I had him by a good two inches. "Shut up. Shut your fucking mouth."

He looked at me, acted like he was hurt, and backed up."Whoa, you on your period or something? Calm down. I haven't even told you the specifics yet. Don'cha wanna know who the unlucky guy is?"

"Not particularly, no."

"Too bad." He backed up a little more, just until his heels were up against the curb and beyond the yellow light's reach. All that I could make out of him were loose fitting pants, along with the shadowy veil draped upon him by the night sky. Dwelling in blackness, like always. The shrill sound of his leather boots scratching against the cement made me jump.

"Anyway, Byakuya is his name. He and Zaraki never really liked each other, especially since Byakuya is some high class scientist and owns a huge corperation, while Zaraki...well, he hires bastards like you to get rid of his competitors—"

"Wouldn't you be one of those bastards as well? Since I do know for a fact that he hired you to kill people too?"

He replied, unsmiling. "Wrong. See, you and me are differe—"

"I, Grimmjow. You and I."

He scoffed, and those blue eyes became sharp.

"Yeah, whatever. Back to what I was saying. The two made a deal. If Byakuya paid a certain amount of money to him each month, Zaraki wouldn't sick any of his hitmen on him."

"So are they in an alliance?"

"They were. Up until last month, when the payments stopped. Long story short, the deal has expired. Which means it's killing time..."

So this is what Kenpachi Zaraki wanted me to do? Kill off one of his "business partners"? He might have been a ruthless madman, but there was no denying that the guy was clever.

"... and he likes the stars, or something dumb like that. Even studies the sun, right here in this damn city of everlasting rain. Is that ironic or what? Don't remember his last name though. I'm pretty sure it sounds like some nasty nickname for a vagina, but that's about it."

By then I could feel my eyes growing watery as the air became dryer and colder. White flakes began to fall faster now, accumulating on the sidewalks and streets and probably all over my clothes. As far as I was concerned, this conversation was over. I didn't want to be out here longer than I needed to.

As if reading my mind, Grimmjow locked a heavy hand onto my shoulder. "So? You going to do it, or what?

Wasn't he at the curb just a second ago? When did he get so close? I didn't notice that he had stepped back into the light until his freezing hand alarmed my skin. How could I have missed that?

You going to do it or what? I decided to dodge the question instead.

"If we're done here," I lifted his icy hand with my own, "I'd rather not allow myself to get stuck in the middle of a winter storm with you."

"Aw. That's a shame. I coulda kept you real warm tonight, too. But seriously, I'm going to need an answer."

I didn't know if it was just me, or the glint of his canines in the flicker of the traffic light, but I had a feeling that Grimmjow was losing his patience. And you never wanted to be in the presence of an angry Grimmjow. He didn't turn green like Hulk or anything, but I still had no interest in witnessing him during one of his temper tantrums.

"Don't waste your time. I won't say yes."

"And what else is a punk like you gonna say? No? You're gonna say no to the boss man's orders? Like hell, Renji. You know better than to screw with Kenpachi Zaraki."

I pivoted on my heels. Making a beeline to the sidewalk, I cursed myself for wasting so much time on him. Rangiku's flower shop wouldn't be closed for a good thirty minutes. If I took the back alleyway, I could probably make it in time...

That stupid voice again.

"You're makin' a big mistake, Renji. He won't like it."

The boss never did like me anyway.

"Think of all the money he'll give you."

I didn't need money. I had a job. Only difference was that selling flowers was legal.

"Byakuya...Byakuya Kuchiki! I know you know that name!"

And that's when I stopped. Byakuya Kuchiki. Kuchiki.

God, I hated that name. He was the man who let his sister die.

Rukia Kuchiki. Forever the girl who liked flowers. The girl who hated the rain. The girl who had a fake brother, that didn't give a fuck about her.

I didn't know much about him, but I knew I didn't want to either. Rukia always used to visited him on Sundays because those were the days when the bus fare was low. She never talked about him, which was odd because her determination towards gaining his approval didn't falter. Even if she didn't speak of him much, her admiration was prominent in those violet eyes of hers, like when his name popped up on her phone. And there were those sleek ivory gloves. White silk. Blue embroidery. Elbow length. Never did I see her without them. There was no questioning the affection she had towards her brother. I knew that better than anyone. And maybe that was why I hated him. I didn't care how many fancy scientist parties he got invited to, or how many expensive scarves he owned; when he let go of Rukia, he made the biggest mistake of his life. He had let go of the best thing he ever had.

Could it be that I was just envious? Envious of the man who had it all?

"I'll do it."

Envy or hatred, it didn't matter now. I was in, and there was no way I was backing out.