Hey folks, I did a double post for this fic. Hooray! Enjoy~


-Pissing in Pools-


Come on sugar, come

I really don't want to go home

Stay with me, be a friend

These streets so cold and my mind is full of goals

He awoke when a stray beam of sunlight had begun to heat up his exposed calf. Opening one bleary blue eye after the other, wincing when the sunlight burned his retinas a little. It was too bright for so early in the morning. Yes 10:27am is early. Pulling the covers over his head and curling his legs inward to make a ball, Grimmjow lay motionless not wanting the day to begin just yet.

After about seven minutes of trying to fall back into a comfortable dream state, he threw the bed sheets down to his feet. It was clear that trying to return to his sleep was completely futile, that and it would be muggy-hot in his room in a few minutes. That and his nagging mum would be on his ass if he didn't get moving soon. Swinging his legs over his bed, Grimmjow picked up a tanktop that had been thrown onto a growing pile of dirty laundry. Walking out into the hallway that lead to the living room and kitchen he was surprised to hear a few pots clang.

Stepping out of the dark hallway the first thing that caught his attention was the TV replaying the highlights of last night's baseball game. A man with shoulder length brown hair sat lazily on the sofa, grey eyes looking unimpressed as always. The man nodded when he saw him before standing up and going down the hall, Grimmjow's eyes trailing after him. Sometimes he didn't know what to make of his dad – Coyote Starrk – from what mum told him, dad had once been a happy and beautiful man.

Somewhere along that time though life had taken its toll on him and had worn down his face. He wasn't as expressive around Grimmjow, the longest conversations they would have lasted ten minutes at the max. It was awkward. He was hard to understand. His adoptive dad made him uncomfortably unwelcome. But he loved the lazy man. He just didn't understand him. It was complicated.

"Good morning sweetie."

Grimmjow turned his head to where a glowing vibrant face held a perplexed stare as brows furrowed and emerald green eyes scanned a cookbook. Tia Harribel-Starrk. Adoptive mum. Beautiful in every way, her body something out of a fifty's burlesque show. An uneven blonde short haircut with long hair put into a ponytail at the back. Her smile always warm and always loving, Grimmjow's thoughts were never complicated when it came to his adoptive mum. She would always answer all his question, even if it were about dad.

"I don' understand him," Grimmjow would sometimes say after having an uncomfortable exchange with his dad, usually about music. It seemed to be the only topic his dad could carry for more than five minutes.

"Maybe he doesn't understand you?"

"Why wouldn't he understand me?"

She would look in Grimmjow's eyes her beautiful captivating smile filled with all the kindness of a saint. She was glamorous, he loved her, he loved his dad; he just didn't understand his dad. And she would answer, "because you my blue panther are one of the unsolvable mysteries of this world."

"Are you teasing me?"

"Never."

"Do ya love him?" Grimmjow would ask, only on a rare occasion. He didn't see his dad and mum show outward affection to each other. Was love always meant to be shown outward? Another mystery of the universe a sixteen year old couldn't wrap his head around.

"Always," she'd answer with all the confidence in the world. Her face never losing that kindness she wasn't afraid to share with others.

"Yeah, I thought so. Do ya understand him?"

"Not always. He's a complicated man. But I don't need to."

"Why?"

"Cause he understands me."

Grimmjow would furrow his brows at this answer. Love really was one of the universe's greatest anonymities bestowed to humans and possibly animals, "I don' like that answer."

Grabbing his cereal and some milk, Grimmjow took his spot across from her at the island, studying her as she scribbled in the cookbook. In all honesty she was a terrible cook but no one had the heart to tell her that, and he would definitely not be the one to break it to her, "whatcha makin'?"

"Enchiladas possibly," she responded not looking up from the book as she flipped the page scrutinizing a new recipe, "I thought they would be a little easier to make. I guess I was wrong."

"Who are you makin' them for?" a blue eyebrow raised, he didn't know many Japanese people who liked to eat Mexican food.

"It's for a pot luck. One of the officers recommended that we do it. Made us all draw straws to choose a different country, the bastard."

It was very rare for him to hear his mother swear, it sounded foreign whenever she cussed. A shit-eating grin grew on his face thinking of ways that he could use this opportunity to tease his mother, "why not make tacos?"

"Thought about it. Wanted to try something different."

"What! Why? Tacos are the shit!"

Emerald green eyes shot up to give him a warning glance. The reason why she never swore was because she absolutely hated it, "watch your fucking language."

That earned a candid laugh from Grimmjow making him choke a bit on his cereal. His mum even cracked a half smile, trying to hide the fact that she wanted to bust a gut. Closing the book, she leaned forward rubbing her eyes letting out an exhausted sigh. The possibility of having to cook stressing her out, "maybe I can just make a Mexican pizza?"

"What goes on a Mexican pizza?" Grimmjow did have to admit that his mum knew how to make a wicked homemade pizza. If she didn't have time to cook a pizza, she knew all the best pizza places in Karakura, he didn't think that he'd once had a shitty pizza.

"I'm not even sure that there is such thing as a Mexican pizza."

"It sounds like it'd be good."

"It actually does, maybe I'll Google it…" she trailed off rubbing her eyes again. Grimmjow finished his cereal and was in the process of drinking his milk from the bowl, ignoring the chid of 'bad manners' from his mum. When he was done he placed his bowl in the new dishwasher they had just purchased, "so what are you up to today my little blue haired menace?"

"I'm going to the pool."

"I didn't even know you could swim."

"I can, but I don't really do laps. I mostly just sit in the water," he explained as he sat back down at the island, not really ready for the day to actually start.

"Well it is supposed to be a hot one today."

"Muggy-hot or heat-hot?"

"I don't think it really matters since you are going to the pool. Just be sure to wear sunscreen," a glob of grey fur suddenly hopped up on to the table. Grimmjow turned to meet a sour looking feline face as faded orange eyes – that seemed to be looking in different directions – starred him down. Pantera was a fat grey cat whose face looked like it had run into a door several times it was so flat. It had followed him home from school when he was six; his dad had taken one look at the cat and said he could keep it. Though Grimmjow was pretty sure that the thing was coming to the end of its life.

"Get that thing off the table please," his mom however did not agree to keep the cat. Deep down she probably tolerated it, but that was very deep down.

"He doesn't listen to me any more," Grimmjow responded as he scratched the cat's ears earning an ugly purring sound. Pantera released its trademark disgusting meows, which just makes the hairs down a guys back stick up, "I think Szayel has been feeding him margarine and peanut butter again."

"Ughh," his mother responded giving a disgruntled look at the cat, "just take him outside with you. Let him chase birds or something. Lord knows he's coming to an end."

The cat gave another meow; as if in protest possibly. It's only a possible that it was looking at her because one eye was already on her while the other one was looking at Grimmjow, "I don' think he likes when you say that."

"He's a cat I don't think he appreciates us."

"Probably not."

Grimmjow got out of his chair and headed back to his room, scratching the back of his head as he gave a semi tired yawn. When he was back in his room, he stripped out of the tanktop and his boxers and began to rummage through his dressers looking for something to wear. Pulling out what he hoped was a clean white V-neck shirt and some simple blue shorts; he then grabbed his swim trunks and shoved them into his bag. Walking out of his room he went to the closet beside the bathroom door, which held most of the linens and towels. Picking a fresh beach towel he then shoved it as well in his bag, heading back to the kitchen.

Walking in on a scene where his mum and cat were in the midst of some sort of starring contest. Picking up Pantera – the heavy shit, looks like he's been eating more than just fake butter – and shouting a goodbye over his shoulder he headed outside to where the sun was blaring down making the air feel thick. Looks like it was going to be one of those muggy-hot days. Dropping the cat which landed in a fat thud, he watched as Pantera took off somewhere in the bushes, probably off to chase a squirrel or a bird.

The pool was only a fifteen-minute walk away from his house so it often didn't take him that long to get there. The journey was usually shorter because he would preoccupy himself with singing a song that he had stuck in his head or playing weird hoping games. What could he say? He was a strange little shit. If anyone asked or tried to make fun he could just say he had a behavioural disorder after growing up in the foster system. That made people leave him alone.

It took him less than expected after repeating the chorus to 4 Non Blondes' What's Going On about seven times, as that was the only part of the song he really knew. It also helped that an empty can had been helping him work on his soccer skills as he kicked it down the street. When he reached the pool he recognized the girl who was working the front desk. A petite girl with violet eyes and black hair that was cut into a bob like style that he had seen running around his high school. He couldn't remember the name of her for the life of him.

Though giving the look she gave him – that of recognition but not knowing what your name was – she was probably in the same boat. She buzzed Grimmjow in to the changing rooms not really caring about his name anymore as she looked down at whatever she was possibly reading. Stepping into the locker room he quickly changed and headed to the shower, dodging to young naked boys that were screaming at the top of their lungs as one tried to whip the other with a wet towel.

Walking out of the changing room he was then blasted by hot sticky air and bright sunshine. It was so humid out that his nose felt like it could start bleeding any moment. Instead of wasting any more precious time he hoped in the pool, pressing down on his swim shorts as they ballooned up a bit. Embarrassing, but no one seemed to have noticed.

Grimmjow had perfected his technique of floating around in the pool. He didn't come to the pool to swim laps or splash around with friends like the jocks or the grating group of girls; he just floated. Chest up he starfished around the pool, enjoying the slightest breeze on his stomach while the water cooled him as the burning sun cooked him. Sometimes he would almost fall asleep as he closed his eyes enjoying how water made voices sound while his ears were underwater. Sometimes he would stare into the sky and think of the bigger questions in the world. What was after this life? Will I ever find my path in life? What am I doing here? What's for supper tonight?

He had been floating for sometime when he bumped his head against something. He would usually do this as he had floated into a wall or the occasional person. Standing up he opened his eyes – a tint of blue making him squint for a second – as he spun around to see what he had knocked into. A leg. Furrowing his brows he followed the leg up a leath body, hands gripping the edge of the pool rim, to a scowling face.

It wasn't a nasty scowl but more of a surprised scowl, if that was even possible. Thin lips held in a firm line perhaps debating whether to say something or not. Orange hair that reminded Grimmjow of maple leaves in the autumn before they turned red. It looked soft but sharp. Melting honey coloured eyes focused on Grimmjow analyzing him like he was analyzing them. The boy's eyes held so many things in them: anger, fear, content, malice, love, hate, but mostly sorrow and wonder. They looked like they were searching for the answers of the universe. The boy was beautiful.

Grimmjow stopped his thoughts dead in the track. No boy was beautiful. His mum was beautiful not some ginger haired sour puss who came to the pool to sit on the edge and not swim. That still didn't stop his fingers from tingling as all they wanted to do was run through the guy's hair. Would he be set on fire if he brushed through every strand? A blush spread across the guy's face revealing the smallest dustings of what appeared to be freckles. That was when Grimmjow realized that he had been staring for too long. Scrambling his brain to regain his thoughts. Christ he was not thinking about running his hand through a guy's hair right now.

"Sup?" the only possible thing he could think of coming to his tongue. Did he feel like an idiot? Most definitely, but it was too late to retract what had just left his mouth. The boy gave a startled look making his blush turn a bit deeper, "sorry for bumping into ya like that, I sometimes forget where I am."

"It's uhh…okay," the boy responded in a flustered voice. Looking away from Grimmjow for a second before meeting his gaze again, "I guess it's better that you bumped your head into my leg than the concrete?"

"Definitely," Grimmjow agreed with a nod before pushing his hair back from his face, he wasn't a fan when wet hair touched his forehead, "thanks for not being a bitch about it to."

"No problem," the boy gave a little chuckle, his legs kicking in the water a bit possibly out of nervousness. Wait; was he making this boy nervous? "Grimmjow Jaegerjaques right?"

"Yes…" his eyes lit up in shock at how the boy pronounced his name perfectly on the first try. Not many people bothered to try and get his name right, usually just resorting to calling him Grimm. Teachers and parents he could handle out of 'respect', but it would irritate him when his peers wouldn't even try.

"You're the guy who punched Shinji Hirako in the face?"

"Yeah that's me," Grimmjow said his voice taking a bit of a growl and his brows furrowing in challenge. He had been jumped before from Shinji's friends outside of school for what he did to that bangs haired bitch. The last time it had been some faggot named Rose. He had dropped kick the Rose guy in the nuts while his friend with the strange star Afro watched on.

"You are different then I pictured you."

Grimmjow must have made a funny face as the orange haired boy's features lightened up. The boy's shoulders moving up and down in a stifled laugh, "…wait, what?"

"Well no offense but all of the rumours make you sound like a gorilla."

"What the fuck? A gorilla."

"Yeah a knuckle dragger."

"That's fucking brutal…"

"Kinda," said the boy a chuckle dancing on his soft looking lips, "but I don't really blame you."

"Really?" this was the first time anyone had taken his side for punching Shinji in the face. He didn't really know whether to be grateful or to run for the hills in case this man was just playing a game with him.

"Yeah," the boy continued, "Shinji likes to talk a lot and you clearly like to pop off. He had it coming for a while."

"Better be able to back up your words?" Grimmjow worded it differently making the boy smile a fraction

"Talk shit, get hit," the pair busted into pure laughter. It had been a while since Grimmjow had held a conversation with another individual who was around his age. Most of the students in his grade were afraid of him while others just didn't care enough to talk to him. The exception being Ulquiorra but he never really talked. This was nice, "how do you know my name?"

"We go to the same school," the man scratched his arm nervously choosing again to look away. This time in the direction of the two lifeguards who were idly chatting.

"So what's your name then? Ya seem ta know mine," and you can actually pronounce my name.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," Ichigo responded, there eyes meet again and Grimmjow can see the universe in them. Who is this kid? What secrets does he know?

"Like a strawberry?"

"No, please don't call me that either," said Ichigo as a scowl wiped away all traces of the blush that had been on his face. Looks like he hit a sweet spot on the berry, and Grimmjow being the asshole that he was, was about to milk that sweet spot for everything that it was worth.

"Can't promise ya that."

"I'm getting the hint that you're a bit of an asshole…"

"You would most certainly be correct," they laughed again as the mood lightened and Ichigo's glare disappeared from his face. Ichigo had begun gyrating his legs – one going clockwise the other counter – creating miniature whirlpools between he and Grimmjow, "so why aren't you in the water? Can't swim?"

"I can swim," Ichigo replied, his eyes concentrating on the mini water vortexes. A hint of a pink tongue darting along his lower lip, "I'm just not a huge fan of chlorine or water."

"So then why come ta the pool if ya can't swim?"

"I can swim," Ichigo, repeated this time placing a little more emphasis on his words, "and I'm not too sure. It was something to do."

"I can teach ya how ta swim if ya want?"

A loud whistle blew startling the two boys as both pairs of eyes shot up to see one of the lifeguards pointing at an ugly little child, the water around it starting to turn purple. Without any hesitation Grimmjow hopped out of the water coming to stand beside Ichigo as the pair watched the chaos unfold. This is what the Gods must see when they unleashed a plague upon the world, watching it spread like wildfire. The muscle heads that had been fooling around sprung out of the water like little girls, a group of senior girls screamed as some of the purple touched their skin, a group of children started to splash each other with the water, and the ugly little shit that started it all had the most blank expression Grimmjow had ever seen.

The two boys were trying their hardest not to lose their shit all together as the lifeguards tried their hardest to get all of splashing kids out of the water. Deciding that now was the best time to take their leave, Grimmjow followed Ichigo back to the change rooms – beating the stunned crowd that were still trying to wrap their minds around what had happened. Grimmjow quickly dried off throwing on his dry clothes and rushing out of the locker room as people begun to swarm. He was a little surprised to see that Ichigo had waited for him and was talking to the black haired girl at the front desk.

Ichigo had taken out his cellphone insisting that they exchange contact info once they had walked a little down the street. Grimmjow had complied – his parents had bought him the damn thing might as well use it for something. When they came to the intersection that lead to opposite ends of the town, they both parted ways giving empty promises of meeting up to go 'swimming' again. Grimmjow didn't have much faith that the boy would hold up his end of the promise.

It took him less time to get home than to get to the pool, possibly due to it being a downhill journey back home. Cutting through his front lawn, stopping to give Pantera a scratch on the head who had been hiding underneath dad's truck, he opened the door to be blasted by cold air. Mum had turned on the AC, thank all the Gods in every religion both past and present. He had been sweating his balls off the entire walk home. He was greeted by both his parents sitting on the couch watching an old action movie that looked like a knock-off of Godzilla.

"Hey blue how was the pool?" mum asked as she was in the midst of twirling her hair through her fingers, looking back and giving him an acknowledging smile. Dad did something that was more along the lines of a grunt…at least it was something.

"It was alright, kinda boring. Some shit head pissed in the pool," he answered. His dad gave a laugh at that, he'd probably never admit it out loud but the man loved a dirty potty mouth.

Before he could suffer the wrath of his mum chewing out his ear, he dipped down the hallway quickly closing the door to his room. After a few minutes of anxiously awaiting the scolding of a cop – none coming – he unzipped his bag taking out his wet swim trunks and heading to hang them up in the washroom. Back in his room he sat down at his desk taking out the pen and flipping open his journal to the page he had used last night.

July 10th…Part 2

I think I made a friend today. His name is Ichigo but not spelt like a strawberry. He's got orange hair and freckles, so that probably makes him a ginger. No it most definitely makes him a ginger. He's something else. I guess he's nice, I'm not sure how his mind works though; who goes to a public pool and doesn't end up swimming? Whatever. Not my problem.

He actually talks too, unlike my other friend Ulquiorra, I'm not even sure he and I are friends come to think of it. Our meeting today was interrupted by some kid pissing in the pool, looks like that myth is true: the water actually does turn purple. But he promised to contact me if ever he goes back, I don' really think that's going ta happen though. Call me a pessimist.

I'm kind of running out of things ta say here so I guess that's all.

Note to self: Ichigo's eyes are cool, they aren't pretty, they aren't cute, they are cool. Also learn to hide your journal better from your asswipe brother.

Grimmjow closed his journal and covered it in the comic books again then grabbed an old school textbook and placed that on top of them. There, nothing suspicious about all these books stacked together on his desk. Leaning back in his chair he turned his head to look out the window. Somehow the summer had taken a more positive spin and was looking to be at least enjoyable. This must be what mum meant by seizing the summer?


AN: so how did you guys like the first two chapters? I'm not sure where I got this idea/inspiration from to make this fic. I hope its at least wetted your appetite. Let me know what you think!

-Yaks