This is a reworked version of my uncompleted story "The Space Between." I've changed the name. Please give me some feedback.
This is rated M for sexual situations. Theres a bit of GrimmIchi in this story.
Good Vibes ~ Ashes.
xXx
"The Space Between the wicked lies we tell and hope to keep safe from the pain
But will I hold you again?"
Lip's as soft and pink as a sakura petal collided with his just barely. His fingers gently twitched in nervousness as he maneuvered Ichigo's chin closer, and when he separate their lips, the air felt wrong in comparison. Byakuya glided his tongue over his lips after the pause in contact. He was tasting the feeling Ichigo's kiss gave, considering, savoring. Still looking dumbstruck at the unforeseen affection, a dry lump formed in Ichigo's throat, and he felt like molten rocks were erupting from his stomach.
Ichigo allowed himself to be pulled in for another, much deeper kiss that lingered with such a great catharses. He was parched, and those lips were the sweetest wine he had never known he wanted, but once he drank in the feeling of their swapping tongues plunging into each other, discovering every fleshy nook the other had, he couldn't imagine how he'd gone his whole life without the rare and ambrosial sensation of Byakuya Kuchiki's touch.
Both of the men heaved and rasped as their mouths found resolution to create the space between. Till this day, Ichigo wished he'd never stopped kissing the man. He wished he had never let such a space become a reality. If he had not, then all of his baggage might not have ever had a chance to get in between what they could have had. There would've been no room in that breath seizing moment of simple affection for Ichigo to ruin the best thing that had ever happen to him. Because Byakuya was just that, the best thing.
Ichigo would always wonder why. Why did Byakuya have to ruin such a blissful moment with that space and the words that filled them? Byakuya, a man who barely utilized words to express his emotions, picked that moment to let his heart fall from his mouth. Could it have been that Ichigo was really that important, that his feelings were so all encompassing that mere action was not enough?
More importantly, why couldn't he say them back when he knew in that moment, despite the fact he'd go on to deny it, that he felt them too?
"Ichigo," Byakuya whispered, his heather hued moons growing heavier by the second, "I love you."
All of those erupting embers turned deathly cold, freezing them both to the core.
Ichigo jerked and moved away from the couch that had been his whole universe just a moment ago. "How dare you say that shit to me? Where do you even- how the fuck- YOU CAN'T JUST KISS ME LIKE THAT. We're suppose to be best friends. I- you-" Before running towards the door, Ichigo said something he'd spend every second of his life since wishing he could take back. "
"You don't love me, and I certainly don't fucking love you, faggot."
"Shut the fuck up, Ichigo," came the half - groan half - yawn that was promptly met by a shove to the shoulder. "You're moaning in your sleep again."
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Ichigo looked over with floaty vision as he tried adjusting to the light of day filtering in through the open blinds of his room. The customary shove of affection was met by an arm wrapping around his mid section and blue hair splaying out across his shoulder. He squinted through one eye at his lover, not even attempting to open the other.
"Grimmjow, you came home last night?"
'Home', the man thought, 'that doesn't sound right. This isn't our home, this doesn't even feel like my home. This is just the place we fuck and sleep at.'
The man half opened his eye's, and in a fraudulent display of aggravation, he growled slightly. "I'm here, ain't I?" He dug his head in closer to the cranny between Ichigo's shoulder and neck and pulled him in tighter.
Blinking a couple of times, Ichigo spoke in-between an unceremonious yawn. "Oh, well I just figured you weren't. I went to bed late, and you never showed up."
He closed his eyes once more as he allowed his head to rest against the gelled hair of Grimmjow. It prickled his face in a not to comfortable yet habitual manner. For a moment, he thought about what it would feel like to lean his cheek against Byakuya's raven tresses. Most likely, it be akin to the finest silk any spider could weave. Like usual, that thought was followed by a dull pang of guilt and sadness. They were mild in their effects, but still stung all the same. He had no right to wonder things like that, because if he hadn't had been so dense, so emotionally inept, so typically Ichigo Kurosaki, he wouldn't have to wonder. He didn't even deserve that after the way he left things.
There was no use falling back to sleep now, not after the dream he had, or more aptly named, the nightmare. Maybe he should've felt guilty about having these thoughts next to his "lover," but he didn't, if only because lovers was a very loosely defined term for these two. They weren't really lovers. They weren't boyfriends. They most certainly weren't partners, and most of all, this wasn't their home. Home's weren't just houses, because they were built with love and the connections you felt to the walls and the people who resided within those walls. Whereas homes were built with give and take, his and Grimmjow's relationship was built with complacency, just two guys waisting time together so their loneliest didn't seem so apparent.
The pair had been fucking for over two years now, and at some point, Grimmjow started to become a face he was use to, a body that always found it's way back to his bed every night, sex or no sex. He was like a dog that kept coming around because you fed it once. Although, on Ichigo's part, it wasn't as if he was using Grimmjow any more than the other was using him. At least he made no pretenses that this was something it wasn't. Not only had the two never been official, but they also had never been monogamous. Grimmjow often went out drinking, looking to score with a variety of hot women or men. Ichigo did the same - although not nearly as often - and he never felt the least bit bad that his constant bed companion did so, nor did he feel guilty for doing so himself. There was never the 'what are we' talk. They never shared sweet nothings, never embarked in romantic acts. They had became comfortable within their nonchalant, nondescript relationship, and for what it was, Ichigo was fine with that.
What they really were was somewhere between, and unlike Byakuya, Grimmjow never filled those empty spaces with any meaningful words that would scare him away. In fact, it was Ichigo's casual availability that kept Grimmjow's interest. The man was a total rolling stone in leather, and any signs of deep attachment were a turn off to him. He liked coming and going at his own volition, but like the loyal pact animal he was, he liked a place to rest his head and quench his desires for human warmth, sexual or not. Ichigo honestly couldn't care less about what he did, not past a basic friend level. Grimmjow was good sex, wild and lustful sex even. He was good company, a fun and loyal guy who could provide some pretty entertaining banter and a nice fight when Ichigo was feeling up for it. The two made good friends with benefits. That was the thing though, Grimmjow was the guy you had fun with, passed the time with, not the guy you fell in love with. So like any good friends with benefits, if Grimmjow came to him and told him he'd rather not do the whole benefits part, Ichigo wouldn't feel much of anything about it, because when you really got to the bottom of what they were, they were just friends.
Ichigo went to roll out of bed, but found himself being snagged and pulled into the curve of Grimmjow's body. His lower back was being greeted by the obnoxiously enthusiastic erection of his bed - mate. In such a close vicinity, Ichigo felt ready to hurl. He tried to wiggle away as he wrinkled his nose at the aroma of Grimmjow's late night.
"Get the fuck off me," Ichigo whined. "You smell like liquor and the juices of whatever chick you picked up last night." Looking over his shoulder, Ichigo cocked an eyebrow. "Really Grimmjow, you couldn't have done better?" He made a grossed out face, obviously referencing the bad stench left behind from whatever girl the man had picked up in his drunken stupor.
"That's just the smell of a good night, baby." He smirked into the nape of the man's neck. "Isn't it your favorite smell to wake up to?"
At the man purposely rubbing and grinding all of himself as close to Ichigo's nose as humanly possible, Ichigo turned and punched him in the arm as hard as he could in an attempt to free himself. "
Yeah, it just delightful. Now excuse me while I go throw up," Ichigo deadpanned, only to get his wrist pinned to the bed and his waist straddled by the muscular thighs of Grimmjow.
"Oh no ya' don't. Like you said, I can do better." He reached down and rolled Ichigo's perked nipple between two fingers as he ground his stiffness against Ichigo's pelvis. "You're better. I still got some energy to work out, let me play with ya'."
Ichigo rolled his eyes but also rolled his hips, as he felt no need to resist. It was as good of a way to start the morning as any, considering Grimmjow really was a top notch lay. He could make Ichigo cum easily and repeatedly, as he knew just how to thrust into him and the quirks of his body. Without thought, he knew what buttons to push, body parts to roll, areas to lick, and how hard to sink his teeth in. It was hot and sticky, nasty and rough, and if he wanted, Grimmjow was more than capable of making Ichigo scream his name.
However, like most things, memories of Byakuya made the experience seem watered down at best. Ichigo couldn't help but to wonder how amazing sex with Byakuya could have potentially been when they had gotten to know each others bodies with the same measure of intimacy, because just that one kiss they shared had all of the gut-churning, smile inducing affection that his and Grimmjow's tryst lacked. Their sex was pleasurable, but it was lacking. Or perhaps, Grimmjow and himself were the ones lacking. Their vacuous feelings made for vacuous sex, and more often than not, it left Ichigo with a nagging sensation in him stomach, like a hunger that begged to be filled but never could.
Although, without Byakuya, most things seemed lacking.
"Fine," Ichigo conceded as the man kissed on his neck, "but don't you even think of putting your junk anywhere near my mouth until you've scrubbed it with bleach."
His body was sprawled, and his arms were spread to hold Ichigo down. Leaning his head up so it was hovering over his lovers, Grimmjow smirked, "Jealous?"
"No." Ichigo crinkled his nose. "Disgusted. You smell gross. Did you drink the liquor or soak in it?"
Grimmjow answered his question by gliding his tongue down Ichigo's neck to play with the dip in his collar bone. In the wake of his trek, he left a sake scented path.
"It's cool. I wanted to fill up on you anyway." Ichigo netted his brow as Grimmjow began his slow decent. It wasn't that Grimmjow never gave him head, but it was pretty rare. Somehow, it made him feel less dominate. Ichigo didn't get the logic. The way he saw it, being able to control your lovers pleasure was the ultimate form of dominance.
Wistfully, he thought about how cocky Byakuya could be and how sexy Ichigo admittedly found that attribute of the man. That made him speculate that he'd love pleasuring with his mouth, if only to show off his abilities.
Ichigo pushed the thought out of his head and considered that Grimmjow was probably still drunk. It made sense, since he had just rolled into bed an hour ago. None the less, Ichigo wasn't going to question a good thing.
He choked slightly when a tongue found it's way to his entrance, and a loud, guttural moan shattered any confusion he might have felt in that moment. Rim jobs were a no access zone, much to Ichigo's dismay, because they made all other sexual acts seem like grade-school kisses when measured by pleasure. Grimmjow must have drank the bar out of liquor for him to be seeing past whatever alpha male type insecurities that lofted his tongue.
After Grimmjow lathered his coarse fingers in some strawberry flavored lube, he prodded Ichigo's entrance in the rough yet meticulous way Ichigo enjoyed. Pleasure dashed with just the right amount of pain would always have Ichigo's toes curling and back arching for deeper applications. While he held Ichigo's wrist captive, Grimmjow pushed in at a teasing speed, and seeing that Grimmjow loved to watch Ichigo fruitlessly writhe beneath him, he took to marking Ichigo anywhere he saw fit. Not that Ichigo contested, seeing as their bouts were always sheet soaking sensual.
Ichigo moaned in gratifying lust as the man stuck two fingers inside his mouth. As Grimmjow probed the wet cavern, Ichigo could taste himself, and his fleshy skin became aroused and highly sensitive. A growl resonated deep within Grimmjows throat as he wrapped Ichigo's legs around him and lifted the man's hips. With the new angle, he penetrated the man deeply and with a pain staking accuracy. Desire gave way to a more feral bucking of his hips, and he savagely attacked Ichigo's pulsating prostate with every thrust. Both men, in tandem, soon tumbled over the edge and straight into their apex of euphoria. As they came down from this high, their chest were pressed against each others, and they could feel their mutually fluttering heartbeats vibrate and fill their ear drums.
Thumbing Ichigo's parted and panting lips, Grimmjow pressed his lips to Ichigo's, and he kissed him with none of the usual voracity their joining's typically yielded. Instead, there was a gentle exploration.
It left Ichigo's lips feeling wrong. The tender gesture was out of place for their puckish yet low pressure relationship, especially since Grimmjow never kissed Ichigo outside of their sexual rough housing. Not that Ichigo did or wanted him to, for if that moment proved anything, it was just weird. Maybe the impersonal sex should've been what bothered Ichigo, but since he met Grimmjow, their unspoken arrangement had stayed a constant in their lives. This sexually symbiotic relationship fulfilled important needs for the duo: it quelled their restless sexual appetites and warmed their beds when the world got a bit too cold. It was the minimum investment with the maximum pay off. A good fuck with none of the baggage included. Best of all, there were no hurt feelings, because there were few feelings involved at all. Some would probably look at their relationship as dysfunctional or detached, and they'd probably be right, but they had one thing going for them that most relationships today lacked, and that was honesty. Maybe it was empty, loose, and meaningless, but at least it wasn't a farce. It never tried to be more than it was.
Ichigo rolled his eyes at the man once he removed his lips. "You're drunk, drunker than usual."
With a hefty scoff, Grimjow rolled off and exposed his sweaty nude body to the gust of wind coming from the ceiling fan. "I don't gotta be wasted to want to kiss you. I just felt like it, damn. It was a heat of the moment type thing." Removing his condom, he slung it at Ichigo carelessly, which earned him a grossed out look and an ear full of curse words.
Sliding to the side of the bed, Ichigo tidily knotted to condom and disposed the release in a bedside waste basket. "Yeah, well, it was just weird," he chuckled. "I'm more use to you cursing me out with your mouth, not kissing me with it."
Grimmjow snorted as he rolled on his belly to press his head into the feathery pillow situated on his side of the bed. He kicked Ichigo in the back playfully, albeit roughly. "Scram, will you? I gotta sleep off this alcohol since I'm so fucking drunk."
"Yeah, Yeah, that sounds more like you."
As he was walked to the door, Grimmjow said something about how he better be woken up to the smell of breakfast. "What am I, your fucking maid!?" With that, Ichigo departed for the bathroom.
It wasn't too long until he was alleviating his achy bones under the steam and pressure of steep water beating against his body. He raked one hand through his drenched locks, and he inhaled the vapors that surrounded him deep into his sinuses. Again, like a song he couldn't get out of his head, Byakuya's memory found him, and the steam was useless when it came to assuaging that pain. It wasn't that he thought about Byakuya all of the time. It had been five years, and through time alone, the scars of their lost friendships had began to heal. The scar tissue, however, stilled throbbed in all of it's disfigured, inflamed glory. Meaning not a single day passed that the memory of Byakuya spared him. Of late, he had been thinking of Byakuya more and more. Most likely, this was the result of the surprise visit he was taking to his home town. It was always like that whenever he returned home, even if he never once saw Byakuya. Something about knowing he'd be that close to Byakuya, close enough to share the same breathing space, it stirred something inside of him. It shook at the little possibilities and the morsels of hope that Ichigo felt would never truly leave him. Like what if they passed each other on the street? What if he showed up to the park they spent their summers in, and by chance, Byakuya had shown up too, wondering the same thing? It was silly, a childish dream that would never be brought to fruition, and even if it did, what would he say? As close as they'd be in vicinity, their hearts would still be continents apart.
Mostly, going home made Ichigo horribly nostalgic for the years he and Byakuya spent by each others side.
The two were friends all the way through high school and halfway through college. To everyone who knew them, they were an unlikely pair. While both shared similar qualities, such as being stubborn, introverted, and readily equipped with pretenses that they showed everyone except each other, they also differed just as vastly. Ichigo was loud, rash, thoughtless, and spontaneous. Most contrasting, he was driven by his emotions. Meanwhile, Byakuya was silent and circumspect, logical and determined, unabashed and sagacious, and he was never one to let his emotions get out of hand. They met at the beginning of their freshman year when some punks were giving Byakuya a hard time for something as trivial as his wealthy upbringing. Ichigo, never one to idle himself when someone was unjustly beating up another, intervened. At first, it was obvious his involvement hurt Byakuya's pride, but more so, Byakuya wasn't a fighter if he didn't have to be, and he often chose to talk his way out of such altercations with pugnacious brats. Of course, once Ichigo egged them on, there was little hope of a verbal solution.
That's when Ichigo looked at Byakuya and said that he wasn't there to fight for him, but to fight with him. Three against one wasn't fair, and Ichigo lived by a strict code of honor, so he couldn't just walk away, and though Byakuya could've handled it himself - and he took no qualms in telling Ichigo that - he admired Ichigo's virtue and tenacity. Looking back on it, all of the years and how exactly they ended up so close merged into one beautiful blur, but that wasn't what mattered. What mattered was, from that day forward, they stood back to back, never having to worry about the potential of falling, because they knew the other was always there in support.
Despite any pain that followed the memories, Ichigo wouldn't trade them for a depthless well of fortune. At first, you could say the two felt like brothers. Byakuya would frequently be at odds with his demanding and often suffocating family, and the Kurosaki home became a place where he could breath freely. Through that, Ichigo's family became like Byakuyas. Ichigo and Byakuya became a family, and through no conscious effort of their own, they built a bond that transcended any one label. It was a bond that did not worry about the opinions of others, and it thought nothing of their insecurities or imperfections. In the presence of the other, they were always at home.
They were together so often, that it would be odd to see one without the other. If you saw Ichigo, one would just assume that Byakuya was probably close by. After so many years of friendship, some people seriously considered if the two shared some sort've metaphysical link and could read each others minds, because they became so attuned to one another's body language that it took only a look or a subtle mannerism to know what the other was thinking. Even as they grew older, this bond withstood the test of time and the trials that came along with coming of age. Perhaps that was because they came into age together, and because they grew so well together, they refused to grow apart. Or maybe it was because, to each other, they were never dispensable. There was never even a question, but just an irrefutable truth that didn't need articulation. Be it puberty, dating, jobs, or family, nothing could get in-between these two, because Byakuya and Ichigo were partners, best friends, and everything in-between, and no matter where they were in this world, be it side by side or oceans apart, they'd always be a pair.
However, even the Titanic, the once considered unsinkable ship, now lies crumbled at the bottom of the Atlantic. In that regard, Ichigo supposed everything was breakable, one just needed to pull hard enough. More accurately, it's about how resolute the vessel was, because like the Titanic, Byakuya and Ichigo's relationship was only as strong as it's weakest wall, and in the end, it was Ichigo who lacked the fortitude. He was the one who let the water seep in and drown them. It was all him.
They say it takes two to ruin a relationship, but Ichigo had to call bull shit on that one, because if their friendship was a garden, Byakuya was the brilliant sun shinning vigilantly, and Ichigo was the drought. He walked away, and with his own two hand, aided by no one, he took the rain with him.
In the midst of college, Ichigo got genuinely heart broken for the first time in his life when the most beautiful girl he'd ever known left him, his mom. With that despair came the complete dearth of care for anyone or anything that still resided in his heart. They were so close, she was so young, and Ichigo was so unprepared. Nothing made sense to Ichigo any more. Colors lost their vibrancy, food became bland, life seemed pointless, and he didn't even want to know what moving on looked like, because that meant moving on in a life without her. That meant moving on in a life where the person you love the most can just vanish and take a huge chunk of you with them, and you're suppose to walk around feigning whole. If that was what love and moving on was about, Ichigo would've rather stayed cold and stagnate.
It was three months after her death that Ichigo decided to quite medical school and run away to Tokyo under the guise of "finding himself." More accurately, he was trying to lose himself. So angry he was at the world, he wanted to destroy something, and in the end, that something was him and Byakuya. In hindsight, there was no sense to be found in his decision. He wrecked the most beautiful part of himself just because he could. He did it because he wanted to become so detached, that maybe it wouldn't hurt so damn much. So he threw everything away, his life, his friends, his schooling, and as a result, he got his wish. Now everyday felt like a gift he didn't want and couldn't return.
Without his mom, he felt hollow, but he knew nothing of the meaning. Some people, they lose the person they love the most, and that's really it for them. They have no one else, but Ichigo? He was one of the lucky ones. He had a bustling family who needed him to be there. A family that lost not only a mother but a son with her. He had Byakuya who transcended a family, a friend, or a lover, and maybe Ichigo couldn't deal with what it would mean to lose someone like that, so he exiled Byakuya from his life, but ironically enough, because of his own stupidity, now he knew for certain what it meant to lose him.
No matter how meaningless or inexcusable his reasons were, that was what prompted his harsh words all those years ago. When he told Byakuya he was leaving for Tokyo, he didn't try to stop him or convince him otherwise, because that was just the man Byakuyas was. Without seize or exception, he was patient, understanding, and most of all, trusting. He trusted that Ichigo would find his way back home even if that meant having to get lost for a while, and when Ichigo left, all Byakuya put in his suitcase was a kiss and a confession of love that held no conditions to it. Byakuya wanted Ichigo to know that, when he was ready, his arms would be waiting for him, and he'd always have a home in them if he so desired, but even that, Ichigo threw back in his face. Maybe it was because, despite not fully realizing it in the moment, all of the love he felt towards Byakuya that had been accumulating for years until it was so overwhelming and undeniable came crashing upon him with the force of a tsunami, and it was equally breathtakingly beautiful and terrifying at the same time. It was crippling in it's intensity.
To Ichigo, It was almost hilarious in a bitter way that when you realized you wanted something more than you had ever wanted anything, that capacity for desire you were unaware was so deep could scare you from ever searching its depths. After so long, he realized that was exactly what happen with him and Byakuya.
It didn't take long for Ichigo to realize his mistake. In fact, even as the vile spilt from his mouth, it was as if he was outside of himself, watching as he set fire to everything they were just for fun. It wasn't until later that the real magnitude of his choices set in, and he realized how cowardice he had been, but by that point, months had passed, and a myriad of phone calls and messages from Byakuya had been blatantly ignored. Seven years of friendship, and all he left the man with was cold words and the beeb of an answering machine.
Many times, he wanted to pick up the phone just to hear the other's voice. He wanted to trade antidotes or simply listen as Byakuya complained about the morons in his pre law program. He wanted to go to Byakuya's graduation and then help him apply for law school. He wanted midnight strolls around Karakura park or to share sushi on the abandoned roof top they'd go to all the time before college became too overwhelming. He wanted to kiss him on that rooftop, but the most backbone he had ever found only allowed him one cryptic phone call from a pay phone in which his voice abandoned him at the sound of Byakuya's velvety, sleep riddled baritone barely comprehensible via the bad connection.
This was a faeat in and of it's self, since It took a whopping seven months after he had left and two months after the phone stopped ringing for Ichigo to verbally admit to someone else - Renji, his good friend and coworker after a night of excessive drinking - and officially admit to himself, that he loved Byakuya and always had.
He had his reasons, but in comparison, they all seemed like bull shit now. Besides, what we perceive is what we label as our reality. The truth of Ichigo's feelings were further reaching than what Byakuya could perceive, but that didn't take validity away from his version of reality. Ichigo had stabbed Byakuya with the blade of betrayal, and even worse, he left the knife in for the man to remove himself. He left the wound for Byakuya's hands to heal only, and though the gash would close, like Ichigo, even when he felt as if maybe he'd been wholly mended, there would always be scar tissue to remind Byakuya that he'd never be quite the same.
It was feelings of unworthiness and fear that thwarted every impulse he had to just pick up the phone. He didn't want to have to hear Byakuya say he hatted him. He didn't want Byakuya's inevitable rejection to be given life, or the actualization that they would never be anything more than complicated strangers to each other. While he wanted nothing more than for Byakuya to be happy, he didn't want to see how much better off Byakuya was without him and his venomous, because surely, if he heard the words "I don't love you anymore," the last tether that had been keeping him raveled would be ripped asunder, and the last part of Ichigo that made any sense would have left along with it. He was a man with a little bit of self preservation, and perhaps if he lived in this perceptual in-between where there was always the improbability that Byakuya would accept him back with open arms, that he hadn't really lost his most important person, there may be an iota of salvation for him yet.
The weight of his actions were inescapable. Like nightmares, every time he closed his eyes all of his wrong doings played on loop for Ichigo's viewing pleasure only. He knew Byakuya had probably blamed himself for a long time. He knew that one day, when he never called or contacted, Byakuya came to terms with the idea that Ichigo really did hate him. Mostly, he took a trust he'd been gifted with and tainted it. He killed any vulnerable part Byakuya had in him, because if the person you shared your whole life with betrayed you, who could you trust? Overall, he knew the truth. He didn't deserve to apologize nor the saliva wasted when Byakuya spat at his pathetic vindication, and even if there was any hope for redemption, any fanatical ideas of him and Byakuya having a happy reunion were squashed two years prior.
Though Ichigo spared the man from his vicinity, he couldn't not keep tabs on Byakuyas life. He just had to know how he was doing, if only because these little briefings were the only part of Byakuya Ichigo had left. Without them, he couldn't keep up the illusion that he hand't lost his love completely. More so, he was concerned, and he just wanted to know Byakuya was doing okay, even if he had no right to it. Through Byakuya's unofficially adopted sister, Rukia, he would get little tidbits here and there, whatever he could squeeze out of her. They waned off the all enduring longing that sat like famine in his gut and held him over until she felt pity and told him something else.
He sounded great, successful, happy, and that brought Ichigo joy. Not that he ever doubted it, because he knew Byakuya was a surviver and needed no one to help make the best out of his situation. Hearing these accounts of Byakuya's happiness was almost enough to give Ichigo that same sensation, as if he could just bask in the other's well being through whatever bond they had left. However, selfishly so, with no degree of sincerity could he say the same when he found out that Byakuya was in a relationship with another man. It didn't surprise Ichigo. Byakuya had a way about him that made Ichigo speculate how anyone could get to know him and not fall head over heels, but surprised or not, nothing could prepare him for the feeling of desolation that reduced him, changed him. Such an emptiness sat inside of him that he thought he may have just retched all over the sidewalk that day, as if the news ate at his stomach lining and implored him to restore what had just been plucked from him. Only he couldn't, he had no choice but to continue on as a mere fragment of what he once was. From that day onward, Ichigo was a walking, talking chasm.
Ichigo was washed and ready to head for the train. That would give him plenty of time alone with his thoughts, not that he needed it. He was suppose to be working today, so coming back into town to celebrate the girls high school graduation was sort've a surprise. He'd bought them both gifts that sat wrapped on the counter. Before he left, he contemplated leaving a note. It felt weird. Grimmjow and himself never really told each other where they were going, not out of an obligation anyway. They rarely got involved in each others lives considering how much they saw each other.
A guilt made Ichigo feel as if he should, because despite them only being friends with benefits, they were friends with benefits that practically lived together. It was the courteous thing to do. However, he also felt equally as stupid. Grimmjow would probably see the note and scoff at it. Then he'd proceed to ball it up, get pissed that there was no food made, and wonder why Ichigo even cared to let him in on his whereabouts. Still, just in case, if only to ease the guilt that he really didn't need any extra of, he jotted down a quick note of where he was going.
