Dedicated: To Confusion No Hime, cuz I love her, her reviews and her stories. :D Being with a job, having money and fewer time. Children of Bodom, who´s music I love and made me relax enough to finish writing this.

Disclaimer: Don´t own anything.

Warnings: The usual. Language, Yaoi (boy x boy hardcore butt sex later on)…etc…etc…etc. Don´t like this shit, don´t read. Simple as that.

A HUGE thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted and has added to favorites this story.


Beneath the mask of Sanity

Chapter one:

Powerless painter loves blue.


Ichigo woke up panting and sweaty. He had dreamt again, just like every other night. His dream just like the last one had been so vivid, so real. He had been in his Bankai form Tensa Zangetsu in hand fighting the Sexta in Hueco Mundo.

A simple memory, he knew, but lately his dreams (or memories) of his shinigami and vizard days were the only thing that made him remember it had all been real. That everything had happened and was not some figment of his imagination.

Truth is those days were starting to haunt him.

By now seven long months had passed since Soul Society had won and beat Aizen, in consequence of him losing his powers. Seven months since he had last seen and heard from his friends in Soul Society and had fought a hollow.

He could not feel any spiritual energy nor see or hear souls anymore.

He was now a normal sixteen year old high school boy, what he had always wanted.

Somehow, he felt hollow. Like a piece of him was missing. He was not satisfied with his new lifestyle.


Grimmjow growled as he attacked Hallibel with his Desgarron, but a powerful Cascada thrown from her reached his neon blue claws and an explosion of hot water ensued.

"That´s it for today Grimmjow. Your powers have come back and your resurrection is now as powerful, if not more as before." The dark skinned woman voiced.

The blue eyed male tisked as he called Pantera back. It had taken him seven months to ensure his powers and abilities to what they used to be, a long time for him, too long in his opinion, but it had been worth it. He had gotten stronger training with the Tercera and Primera in a daily match.

He felt power his new power course through his being. Now he could finally pay a long waited visit to a certain shinigami and claim his rematch; he was going to fight till death this time, no holding back.

Just the thought of a fight with the orange head made his skin crawl in delight and anticipation, the raw need to just let go of his restraint and violently mark the shinigamis body was making him unsteady.

He couldn´t wait to crush Ichigo Kurosaki. See his features soften as he was being beaten and made a bloody mess; he always looked exquisite like that in Grimmjow´s opinion.

"I´m off, be back in a couple of days." He waved of as he turned his back to Hallibel and opened Garganta.

Rolling her eyes the blond woman walked past Grimmjow making her way back to Las Noches.

"I´ll tell Stark. Make sure you don´t get yourself half killed…again."

Hearing those words, the Sexta chose to ignore them as he crossed the portal and stepped into Karakura.

It was already nightfall which was a good thing he didn´t need any unwanted attention from other humans who had enough reiatsu as to see him.

Closing his eyes he used his pesquia to find the largest amount of reiatsu emanating from a human.

He could not find one. All reitasu´s were small and weak, not leaking constantly and excessively like Kurosaki´s always had. Hell, some weren´t even captain level reiatsu.

Just where the fuck was his shinigami?

Growling, he sonido-ed through the town trying to find the orange head male.


Ichigo poked out his tongue all concentration focused on what was in front of him as he dabbed more paint onto the light blue sky on his canvas.

He had done it again, he thought as he looked at the finished painting of a crazed Nnoitra attacking him. Black eyes, charcoal colored long hair a gothic five tattooed on his tongue, large ass zanpaktou and of course a white uniform was what was looking back at him, trying to attack him fervently, but he knew it would never reach him here.

Looking away he ignored the stab in his heart and the adrenaline like feeling coursing through his veins.

He was succumbing to his conscience once again and drawing his memory´s.

Thinking about the Espada made him remember what he had done in his fight with Aizen. Letting the Primera and Tercera escape back to Hueco Mundo was not his smartest move, but something inside him, a powerful feeling had told him it was the right thing to do after all they were only used by Aizen. But deep inside he knew it was his remorse for not letting a certain Espada live. A blue haired azure eyed blood lusting male.

Letting go of his thoughts and looking at the Hueco Mundo sky in his canvas he knew it needed more color, it wasn´t the exact same shade he remembered, it needed more blue. Reaching for the azure color tube of paint, only to find out it was empty, he cursed. Checking his watch he saw it was eight o´clock, an hour till the small art supply´s store downtown closed.

Sighing he looked at the mess around his room. Painting´s on the floor or piled one on top of the other in a corner, he had lost count of how many scenarios and faces his hands had painted. Hueco Mundo, Soul Society, Las Noches, friends, enemy´s, vizards, Espada, fights, blood…

Every single thing he could remember was plastered on the paintings. His sketch pad was no different; black and white faces with different expressions laced on them filled every page.

Looking up he spotted the lone single painting that was placed on a wall in his room...

He stared at if for a long moment. It was his most prized painting and he still didn´t know exactly why. An azure eyed Grimmjow with his usually light blue haired matted with blood was standing, crouching really, arrogant fight loving smirk in place as he held a neon glowing Pantera.

He was about to release himself, and to Ichigo he had never looked more beautiful, more breathtaking (the artist inside him speaking).

That fight would forever be incrusted in his heart.

The orange head teenager took one last look at the painting before wiping his hands on his apron and taking the thing off, grabbing his wallet in the process he made sure not to look at the canvas hanging on his wall as he left his room closing the door behind him.

He still had no idea why he had hung that up. In his mind he usually told himself it was because it was his best painted artwork, but he knew there was more to his attachment to that canvas.

Perhaps it was because his fights with the Sexta had made him feel most alive, more normal and carefree. Sure, the man had tried to kill him and his friends –brutally he might add- but, in a twisted way he felt it to be a normal teenage male competition to see who was the stronger, faster, better fighter.

Ichigo sighed, he knew his thoughts were now getting the best of him, and know were staring to not make sense. Truth is he felt guilty, guilty for not helping the Sexta after Nnoitra had attacked him, sure he had saved his life, but after Kenpachi had arrived he left…leaving Grimmjow to his death.

It was the one thing he had regretted most in his life and he would now carry on his shoulders along with his mother´s death.

Blue and orange now haunted his nightmares.

He stopped at the foot of his front door as he hastily put on his shoes, not wanting to think anymore he let his thoughts drift behind as he opened the door and left the house making his way to the supplies store.

Even if he´d wanted to, he wouldn´t be able to see the teal blue eyes that were following his every move.


He had found Kurosaki; there was no mistaking that orange mass of hair, but the strange thing was that Grimmjow couldn't feel an ounce of reiatsu come from the boy.

Maybe he had learned how to suppress it all? Grimmjow snorted. He doubted the boy would ever learn that, he had too much reiatsu and to be truthful the kid sucked at anything that had to do with reiatsu, especially his. Anyhow, he knew that even Kurosaki couldn´t hide all his extreme massive amount of reiatsu. No, this was something else.

Never one to wait, he swiftly followed the shinigami, deciding to be upfront with the kid. Stopping in front of the orange head he grinned.

He however, did not expect said orange head to try and walk right through him.

"What the fuck?" Ichigo growled as he felt himself walk into something. Had he really been that distracted as to walk into…

There was nothing in front of him.

Lifting a brow in confusion he stared ahead. Was there really something there? Someone? Reaching out with his hand he was about to try and touch what he had just walked in on…

He put his hand down abruptly. What was he thinking, there was nothing there. Scowling, he rubbed his forehead with his hand as he resumed his walk, away from the place/thing he had just bumped into.

Grimmjow was left astonished. Kurosaki couldn´t see him? Impossible, but the way he had just stared at him as if he were not there…

What the hell was going on? He wanted answers and he wanted them now.

"Oii, Shinigami!" He growled, but the orange head did not answer as he made a turn for the next street and disappeared from view.

"Kurosaki." He muttered pissed at the thought of being ignored.

"That little fucker." The Sexta made move to follow the boy when…

"He can´t hear you…Grimmjow."

At the sound of a feminine but still gruff voice he turned to see who was talking to him. Only to see a black haired girl, in what he supposed was a school uniform, looking at him.

"Who the fuck are you, and how do you know my name onna?" He spat, never being the polite one. Narrowing his eyes at the petite girl.

She merely grinned. "Tch, no wonder he misses you; you´re exactly alike." She muttered to herself.

"Come with me and I´ll explain." With that said, she started walking towards the opposite direction.

Never keeping his eyes off her, Grimmjow felt a large amount of reiatsu come from the girl, but not large enough to be a shinigami or be called a threat to him…and somehow, it felt familiar.

Arriving to their destiny, which turned out to be a solitary park, the girl stopped and took a seat in one of the swings.

"Here I doubt we´ll be interrupted." She looked at Grimmjow curiously. She took in his appearance and his wild looks, blue hair, even bluer eyes, muscular body and what she assumed a blood thirsty fighter.

He was exactly what he needed in his life. She smirked to herself.

"Who are you?" Grimmjow´s rough voice snapped her out of her inner monologue.

"Karin Kurosaki, Ichigo´s imouto."

Grimmjow raised a brow, he had no idea the shinigami had siblings much less a sister, the again he knew shit about Kurosaki apart from being a shinigami with hollow powers and an extreme protector with a hero and self sacrifice complex.

Sighing he nodded at the girl. He had many questions for her.

"Why can´t Kurosaki see me?"

Karin looked away for a second, before responding. "He lost his shinigami and hollow powers seven months ago fighting Aizen." She flatly stated, although he could tell there was something more.

Grimmjow couldn´t believe what the girl had just said. Kurosaki not being a shinigami anymore, bullshit.

"How the fuck did that happen?" His question did not leave room for and ´I don´t know ´ and Karin knew it.

"He managed to do the final Getsuga Tensho and he merged with his zanpaktou…or something among those lines. Being one with him, the power of the attack would surely kill Aizen, but it came with a price…" She looked at Grimmjow in the eye.

"…Ichigo would lose all of his powers if he ever used that attack, and it was a price he was willing to pay."

Karin closed her eyes for a moment, as she swayed a bit on the swing, her shoe clad feet rustling in the sand.

"However, he didn´t manage to kill Aizen, but he did weaken him enough for Urahara-san to seal him."

There was a moment of silence as Grimmjow took in all the information.

"So just like that, he lost his powers?"

"Yes."

"What about his hollow?" He curiously asked.

"Lost all contact with his inner hollow and Zangetsu, he says it was like they were never there, he can get inside his inner world, but there´s no one there, he can´t hear their voices anymore."

Grimmjow snorted, typical Kurosaki, stupid boy.

"Fuck, Kurosaki just can´t stop getting himself in shitty situations." He muttered.

Remembering something he looked at the sitting form of Karin.

"How do you know who I am?" He doubted Kurosaki would come home and give her a detailed explanation of everything he did as a shinigami, that just wasn´t his style.

Karin smiled sadly. "Ichi-nii has taken a lot to painting again. He´s always had talent for art, but since mom died he stopped. After he healed from his battle wounds he just started again and won´t stop. He says the paintings are his memory´s of Souls Society and Hueco Mundo. But, out of all the paintings he has only one is the beautifulest and only one is hung on his wall in his room. It´s a painting of you."

"One day he left all day and came home around midnight drunk of his ass. It was then when he told me it was you."

Karin tisked as she recounted that awful conversation.


She had known her brother was suffering quietly, they all knew. It was what Ichigo did and no one knew what to do but leave the teen alone.

That day Ichigo had gone out for the day -which was weird itself for he only left to school and to the arts supply store- only to come back past midnight dead drunk. Karin –who had been in the living room waiting for him- managed to catch him as he stepped through the front door.

She´d somehow managed to help him up the stairs, Karin knew her father knew the state his eldest son was in, thank god he was sane and smart enough to not interfere and leave them alone. And Yuzu had always been a heavy sleeper.

Arriving at his room she turned on the light and had been able to kick the scattered paintings away as she walked and throw her brother on the bed.

"What happened to you Ichi-nii?" She murmured as she undressed him leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

She then made way to his drawers to find a pair of sweats.

"Karin, turn off the light." Ichigo muttered passing an arm over his eyes.

How he managed to still talk coherently she didn´t know. But it was something she was willing to take advantage of in his inebriated state.

Grabbing a pair of sweatpants in his second drawer she made her way towards the light turning it off.

"Come on Ichigo; toss your legs over here." Grabbing his ankles she swiftly slipped the sweats up his legs easily. "Lift up your hips." The thirteen year old ordered.

Doing as he was told the orange head lifted his hips and Karin slid up the sweats.

Deciding that he was fine with his lack of shirt (he would not die of coldness he had his sheets to cover himself) she sat down on the bed next to his lying form, she passed a hand over his rebellious orange locks.

"You can take your arm away, the lights out." She muttered still stroking her brother hair.

An indistinct groan was all that answered, which she decided to ignore. Taking a look around his room (he hardly ever let them in now a days) she found out it was somehow a more somber and nostalgic version. Paintings filled the floor making it look like a sea of surreal colors.

And what most caught her attention was a painting hanging on the lone white wall. A blue haired man with a gleeful expression on his face, katana poised in front of him.

Karin stared in awe at how stunning it was, how realistic it looked, the azure eyed male practically looked ready to jump and attack her.

"Oii Ichi-nii, who´s that?" She slowly asked, hoping her brother in his drunken state would lower his guard and was a little more tongue loose to tell her.

Turning his head towards where Karin was looking, Ichigo saw the Sexta´s portrait.

A wry ghost of a smile touched his lips.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, Sexta Espada of Aizen´s army...my enemy…" He paused, turning to stare at the ceiling.

"Out of all the people I fought, he made me feel alive, pissed and constantly had me training for more, making my competitive side rise…the need to just not lose to him. The fucker was insane…brutally strong, soul mouthed, a blood lusting motherfucker…"

"Truthfully I´ve never enjoyed a fight s I did with him, even if I was fighting for my life." He chuckled stupidly, making Karin roll her eyes.

"You know I dream of him…our fights, Hueco Mundo. It´s all so real, so colorful. I could practically feel the white sand on my feet…then I wake up and I´m here, and Grimmjow´s…"

He went silent.

Karin resumed passing her hand through his soft hair, feeling him snuggle against her palm.

"What happened to Grimmjow?" She slowly, tentatively asked.

"Dead. Las time I saw him he was bleeding rapidly to death on Hueco Mundo desert."

Closing his eye she let the drowsiness win over him.

"I´ve never forgiven myself for not saving him…" His words were no more than a stray whisper but Karin had heard them.

She let sleep come to him, leaving her to think about the meaning of what she had just learned about her brother. Not that it needed much thinking; it was more than obvious.


"That has been the only time my brother has ever told me about his time as a shinigami…even now I think I know this because he wanted to tell, not just because of his drunkenness."

Grimmjow stood quietly for a moment. "So you´re telling me Kurosaki has gone all depressed and wussed out of everything because he lost his powers and regrets he couldn´t save my ass?"

Karin nodded. "Basically. I know my brother, Ichigo has always been a reserved person since mom´s death, but know he´s practically put a barrier around him reading ´Stay the fuck away´ It´s frustrating to see him like that."

The Sexta snarled. "Tch, there's no fun in fighting when your prey is broken."

Turning around he opened Garganta. "Thanks for telling me kid."

Karin stared eye wide. "You´re gonna leave just like that?" She yelled.

Whipping around he stared at her. "Kurosaki´s power´s are gone. I have no intention of fighting someone who´s only a shell of a person he used to be."

Karin looked outraged, she stood. "But you came back! That must mean something, why would you come back just for a fucking fight?" She yelled unaware of the meaning of those words to a warrior like him.

"You don´t know shit about me kid. So I suggest you keep your thoughts to yourself and your mouth shut." He stated coldly, the murderous look in his teal eyes made her skin crawl, but she did not back down.

"I´m out."

"I answered you´re questions, now you answer mine, it´s a fair trade. How the hell did you survive?"

Grimmjow grinned. "That´s a tale for another day kid, I gotta go."

"You have to help him." She interjected her face somber. "He´s a shell of the lively brother I once had, he doesn´t laugh, smile, for fuck´s sake! He doesn´t even get pissed anymore."

Karin walked away from the swing as she made way to leave.

"You know, I´ve always wondered why of all the painting it´s you´re he decided to hang on his wall."

With that she resumed walking away. She only walked ten counted steps when Grimmjow´s voice called her.

"Next week here, same time kid. I´ll answer your questions."

She turned in time to see Garganta closing. Smiling she couldn´t wait till next Friday.


Grimmjow would never admit it out loud but the girl had left him dumbstruck and thinking about blood, war and an orange haired shinigami, he still refused to call by his name.


I love Karin she rules.

Oh and…does anybody know why the fuck my messenger won´t open? Well let me rephrase that. Why the fuck won´t my inbox open? O.O I seriously have no clue, if anybody here knows I would appreciate the tip. I haven´t been able to open my inbox for a total of five days.

Review and tell me what you thought.

-N523