Sorry for typos and grammar errors. Word mixes up stuff so easily and I've never had beta help before . . . it's probably time for me to get a beta.

x

"Wow, so you really got paired with him?" Keigo said around a mouthful of blueberry cream croissant. "That really sucks."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I can change partners anymore. We're gonna be doing a full body design, so I'll have to get Grimmjow to pose for me while I draw him."

"Naked?" Keigo asked, and received a few wadded up wrappers thrown his way. "That's not a bad idea. Wonder how much a girl would pay for me to draw her naked."

Chad chuckled. "You'll probably be the one paying her."

"Psh, I could do that with my charm alone."

Mizuiro burst out laughing, as did Ichigo. They joked around for a bit more before their laughter died down into pleasant chuckling. Even for a little while, Ichigo felt glad he could relax and live in the now with the friends he knew would have his back anywhere and anytime.

"So you're still stuck with him, then?" Ishida asked as he squinted at Ichigo from behind the steel framed glasses he always wore.

"Guess so."

"Watch out for Grimmjow, Ichigo." Chad said quietly. "Heard he's in with some bad sort."

Mizuiro perked up, his curiosity piqued. "Gangs?"

"Could be."

"Wouldn't be surprised."

Ichigo heaved a sigh as he leaned over to swipe a sip of soymilk from Mizuiro's carton. He dodged a playful slap before leaning backward against Chad's broad, muscular back, using his friend as a backrest.

"In the 1940s, the average farmer only grew enough foodstuffs for about twenty to twenty five people." Ishida muttered from his upright position beside Ichigo. "Calculate the probability distribution for each household if the average number of family members is 4.5."

Keigo curled his upper lip and crumpled his food wrapper before tossing it directly into Ishida's face, where it bounced off his forehead and left a streak of blueberry cream. "It's lunch period, Uryuu. That means no talking about anything related to studies or assignments. I just might puke all over your notes."

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Ishida politely declined Mizuiro's offer of lending him a handkerchief before pulling out his own white lacy one with an embroidered logo of his favourite rock band, Quincy. Ichigo kind of liked them because their tracks were smooth and classic, but Ishida took hardcore fan to a whole new level. He would have sewn the Quincy band logo on his uniform shirt had the teachers not reprimanded him, but Ichigo secretly admired Ishida for his serious dedication and flawless craft making. Ishida could sew anything and everything.

"Let him do what he likes, Keigo." Mizuiro pinched two bites off Keigo's chicken and cheese sandwich with the stealth of a skilled ninja. "How would you like it if I told you to stop eating so much?"

Ichigo snickered. "Look who's talking."

"I happen to like bread." Mizuiro frowned at him disapprovingly, the first half of Keigo's tuna roll disappearing into his mouth. Ichigo knew Keigo would never see it again.

The bell rang, the shrill sound piercing through the rooftop area like there were about a dozen instead of just one. Ichigo clapped his hands over his ears and blinked.

"Fucking bell." Keigo muttered, trashing his food wrappers into the nearest bin. "They don't even need one for the rooftop."

"It's new." Mizuiro hopped to his feet, keeping one hand on his backpack while holding out the other to help Ishida up. "I bet the principal wanted to keep most of us from sleeping up here. It's a really good place to sneak out to when skipping class."

"You skip class?" Ichigo asked incredulously, using Chad's shoulder as a balance so he could lift one foot and scratch his ankle.

Mizuiro stuck out his tongue and waggled a watermelon lollipop in Ichigo's face. "Despite what others say, I'm quite a normal student."

"Lies!" Keigo hollered from the doorway of the rooftop, the one that led to the stairs. "Hurry up before my arm dies on me. This door is heavy."

"Let Chad hold it then."

"What do you think he is, some sort of doorman?"

"Only for the rooftop, dummy."

"Who're you calling dumb?"

"Toads have no teeth."

"What the fuck was that about, Ishida?"

Laughing, they barrelled down the stairs to join the seething multitude of students headed straight for class.

x

"Buenos Aires, Los Angeles, Cape Town, and Sydney are each thousands of miles apart and are known for having unusually pleasant year-round climates. They are all almost identicaldistances from the Equator." Byakuya-sensei read out from his teacher's edition textbook. "Write that down and leave two spaces for extra notes."

While his teacher went on to repeat the sentence, Ichigo doodled a human being chased by a three-legged dinosaur with snakes for a tongue. The rest of the class made quiet clicks with their mechanic pencils and pens, with the occasional shake of a liquid corrector or the squeak of a chair on the pale blue tiled classroom floor.

A wadded up ball of notepaper found its way to the back of Ichigo's head, where it bounced off and rolled to Keigo's desk on the tiles. Peeking at his teacher to see if he would notice, Ichigo ducked down and snatched it up with one swift move.

Opening it up and smoothing the creases out, Ichigo squinted to read the lazily scrawled writing.

Left side of your head, your hair's sticking up.

And somewhere at the end, in a different colored pen;

It's kinda cute.

Ichigo puffed up one side of his cheek before exhaling through his mouth. There was no signature or name written on the paper, so he could only guess who it was sent by. Turning around slightly in his chair, Ichigo instantly locked gazes with mischievous blue orbs. Grimmjow winked at him as he grinned, sending a flush of crimson across Ichigo's cheeks. The orange haired teen hated the fact that he blushed so easily.

Grimmjow held up a hand before furiously scribbling something down on a notepad with his pen. He held it up and threw another roguish grin Ichigo's way.

Just like that blush.

Jaw dropping open as another flush of pink colored his cheeks, Ichigo struggled to come up with a witty comeback. Words failed him as he tried to wrap his mind around the double meaning Grimmjow could have implied, hidden between the lines of writing on the paper. He knew Grimmjow was just baiting him – even if this was a new breed of tactic, but he couldn't help raising his hackles whenever the blue haired teen taunted him. It was a game of lion and cheetah, though Ichigo always felt like a cornered mouse.

"About ninety percent of the world's population lives in the Northern Hemisphere, and Kurosaki Ichigo, please face the front when I'm talking." Byakuya-sensei's aim was accurate.

The small piece of green chalk bounced off Ichigo's temple and plonked away onto the floor. Ichigo jumped and faced the blackboard with flaming cheeks and a bruised ego.

Twenty minutes later into Geography, a paper plane nosed its way past Ichigo's face and made a perfect landing on his desk. Frowning and dreading more mockery, Ichigo crushed the plane and deliberately let it fall to the floor from his fist. The lesson went on with a slice of boredom wedged into it, except when Renji's smart phone blared his favourite song, making everyone jump in surprise.

"What was that?"

"My phone, sensei."

"No, it sounded like a radio . . ."

Tatsuki shook her head. "Sensei, you're outdated."

"Oh. Sorry."

The class laughed. Byakuya-sensei was just too awkward with his students, especially when it came to confiscating gadgets.

"Give it here, Abarai."

"Aww, sensei!"

"No talking back."

"But it wasn't my fault it rang."

Byakuya-sensei pushed a lock of jet black hair away from his eyes, looking thoughtful. "Oh. Well, I suppose that's right."

Renji adopted an earnest look and gave his teacher a beam of happiness. "So you won't take it away, right?"

"No, but I need to give you some form of punishment."

"Like cleaning the blackboard? I hate cleaning the blackboard." Renji said with a grin.

Their teacher looked torn between stern and relieved. "Right then. Please clean the blackboard after class, Abarai."

Renji pumped a fist and did a victory dance in his seat. "Alright! No take backs, sensei!"

Ichigo chuckled at his redheaded classmate's boldness. Teasing their Geography teacher was fun.

Another paper plane whisked past his shoulder to make a crash landing on top of his notes. Ichigo ground his teeth and looked up at Byakuya-sensei before grabbing the paper and reading its contents.

Too bad your cuteness didn't work on sensei.

Narrowing his eyes, Ichigo was about to crumple the paper and shove it into his desk when he caught sight of more writing at the bottom of the page.

It would've worked on me.

Right.

Did that mean what he thought it meant?

Ichigo bit his lower lip, a dozen questions running through his mind. Still, this was Grimmjow here. His words could mean anything from I'm just messing with your head to I'm dead serious and you're about to be the butt of a joke in five seconds. Ichigo had no qualms that Grimmjow probably wanted to rile him up as per usual. Running a hand through his spiky hair, Ichigo folded the paper and tucked it away in between the folds of his textbook. He wasn't going to respond to any note passing, because it was cliché and silly and more of something girls did, usually. Especially when they wanted to ask the guy they liked out.

Unless of course, Grimmjow liked passing notes for that very reason. Ichigo smirked to himself as he digested that thought, allowing his imagination free reign. Yeah right, like Grimmjow would fall for someone like him. He probably saw Ichigo as some sort of entertainment source, judging by the way he tended to pick on him. Chewing on his bottom lip, Ichigo felt his imagination take a steep turn, flashing him a fuzzy visual of himself being kissed by the blue haired bully.

Ugh!

Why'd he have to think about that for?

Ears pink with embarrassment and cursing his imagination; Ichigo fumbled with his mechanic pencil and quickly sketched a hapless guy with flailing arms, trying to escape from being swallowed by an enormous shag carpet. He grinned, letting his creativity flow from his mind to his fingers, guiding the pencil with the right amount of strokes and filling in some lines with shading. Beside the hungry carpet sat a concerned looking cat with peacock feathers in its tail.

Lost in his own world, Ichigo hummed softly while his hand made quick work of his doodling. He barely noticed how quiet the class had gotten, each student bent low over their assignments as their teacher made rounds. A slender, well manicured hand reached under Ichigo's textbook, flicking it out and upward. Honey brown eyes widened in surprise and instant shame as steel gray ones stared back.

"Drawing again, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo flushed and nodded silently, avoiding his teacher's gaze by looking at his table.

"Are you aware what class this is?"

"Geography, Byakuya-sensei." Ichigo heard himself reply in a pathetically small voice. "I'm sorry."

"Well, you're . . ."

The class could practically hear the cogs turning in their teacher's mind as he wondered what sort of punishment to give Ichigo. Byakuya-sensei just wasn't very good at handling things like these.

"He's really good, isn't he, sensei?" An all too familiar voice spoke up from the back. "He doesn't even need to take Art lessons."

Byakuya-sensei blinked once before nodding slowly, his mind already distracted. "Yes, he's very good. Is this man being eaten by a piece of cloth?"

Ichigo felt his cheeks burn. "I-It's a carpet."

His teacher raised both eyebrows. "Well . . . it certainly looks famished."

The class broke out in a smattering of giggles. Ichigo ducked his head as his textbook was placed back onto his desk. Byakuya-sensei gave him a light pat on the head – like he was a little boy – and sauntered away to prod Keigo awake four desks away.

Barely five minutes later, Nnoitra leaned over from behind Ichigo's seat. He tapped the orange haired teen on the shoulder and passed him a clumsily folded piece of heart-shaped paper. Brows furrowing in puzzlement, Ichigo scanned the contents.

What, no thank you for saving my ass, Grimmjow, I'm indebted to you for life?

Feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, Ichigo scribbled a reply using his favourite green ink pen.

You were just lucky sensei is so easily distracted.

He handed the note back to Nnoitra, who winked at him before passing it back to Grimmjow. Seconds later, the bell rang, signalling the end of regular classes and the start of break before extracurricular activities. Ichigo shoved his stuff into his backpack and waited for the class monitor to give the customary 'thank you, sensei'. He didn't feel like walking with Grimmjow, though the blue haired teen was his Art partner; he'd had enough teasing for the day. Taking a brisk walk out of the classroom, Ichigo lost himself into the sea of students, all chattering and laughing and joking around. He wandered to the stairs that would lead to Block E, where the main art room was located.

"Ichigo!" Keigo yelled from the door of the class he'd just left. "Wanna come with us to eat at Adzuki?"

Adzuki was a famous fast food diner in town, just three and a half blocks to the East from Karakura High. Around this time in the afternoon, it would be chock full of students and working adults alike. Ichigo didn't think he could handle the crowds.

"I'll pass, thanks." He grinned apologetically as Keigo pouted. "Maybe next week!"

"You know where to find us if you change your mind!" Mizuiro called after him and Ichigo waved back in response.

Humming to himself, Ichigo walked along the corridors, skipping the stairs three steps at a time. The afternoon was beautiful, and he'd never felt this happy to hear the birds singing away in the trees. Heading into the stairwell of Block E, he brushed past a gang of students who were talking loudly, swaggering along with their hands in their pockets. Their usual gray and white uniforms were decorated with gaudy looking wallet chains and nearly all of them had substituted the school's standard inner white T-shirt for grunge themed ones. Several had lifted their uniform shirt collars, giving them the infamous rebellious teenager look.

Three of them suddenly shoved him in the chest, making him stumble backwards into another of their gang.

"Fucker!" said one of them, turning around with a murderous glare. "Watch where you're going!"

Annoyed, Ichigo frowned. "You're the one who pushed –!"

The orange haired teen barely had time to finish his sentence when he felt a fist hit him right in the gut. Doubling over, Ichigo would have dropped to the ground had the delinquents not yanked him up by his upper arms. Another fist would have collided with his nose had not one of the gang members grabbed the arm of his assailant.

"Dude, check this guy out." One of them said in a deep voice. "Leave him for the Boss."

He was basically bald, with about one centimetre of hair shaved close to his head. There was a large black and red tattoo on the back of his neck, and there was more than a day's stubble left unshaved on his chin. Ichigo was sure he wasn't even a teenager anymore; more of a student who failed to graduate even in his early twenties.

"Pretty face." Another leered, while the rest snickered and hooted.

Ichigo felt like he could go blind from the glaring purple and blond bad dye job sitting on the top of the thug's head.

"Got any money?" The bald one named Boss said right in Ichigo's face, causing the teen to cough from the stench of his horribly bad breath.

"Ever heard of brushing your teeth?" Ichigo said through gritted teeth.

Two guys held his arms up behind his head so he couldn't struggle or fight back. The one who gripped his left arm in an iron-like hold was hurting Ichigo; he was pretty sure that would leave a bruise.

"Heard of it, too lazy to do it." Baldo leered as he searched Ichigo's pockets. "Sides, my teeth are my business, Orange."

The other six gang members sneered, doing their best impersonation of badass and gangster-like. To Ichigo, they merely looked like malnourished chimps as they dangled their arms and stuck out their necks.

"So what class did you say you were in again?" Baldo grinned, roughly pulling out the tiny silver pendant attached to the plain black necklace Ichigo always wore from under his shirt.

"I never did." Ichigo felt like kneeing Baldo in the groin, but the thug was squatting conveniently away from the vicinity of his knee.

"Search his backpack." With an easy flick of the wrist, Baldo yanked the necklace off Ichigo's neck. "Any money, take it."

Ichigo grinned through the ache of his winded stomach. "You won't find much."

They ignored him, riffling through the loose sheaf of notepaper, messing up the carefully placed sketches in his cracked folder. Even going as far as to upturn his bag and let his belongings topple onto the floor with a loud clatter. Ichigo was only worried for his body paint set, which was new and bought with his hard earned money. He bit his lower lip as it cracked open on the cement floor, the round wells of paint scattering everywhere, just like the loose sketches from his folder.

"You guys get off on doing this to innocent people?" He was angry now, the words flying off the tip of his tongue as he struggled against the two guys holding him in a vice like grasp. "Goddamn assholes."

"Shut it." Baldo didn't even bother looking at him. "Look through that wallet over there."

One gang member complied obediently, making a face as he withdrew a few dollar notes and a couple coins. "Nothing good here, Boss."

"Shouldn't you be hanging out in some ratty snooker club, picking your noses and smoking cheap cigarettes?" Ichigo hissed and spat, much like an indignant cat. "Like the true ass wipes you guys really are."

A fist collided with his jaw, sending him reeling backwards into a wall as the two thugs purposely let go of his arms.

"You know who I am?" Baldo snarled, swaggering up to where Ichigo sat slumped against the wall, trying to recover from the hard thumping his head had taken.

One delinquent's ugly sneakered foot kicked Ichigo in the chest and stayed, keeping him in place.

"Nope." Ichigo grinned, tasting blood in his mouth. "You're just not worth knowing, I guess."

Baldo looked enraged, while the other embers whooped and hooted.

"You're fucking dead, Orange."

"Big talk for someone so worthless."

Ichigo wrenched his arms with surprising speed and enough force to make the two guys gripping his arms stumble to the tiled floor. In a flash, his foot shot out to trip Baldo over, bringing the thug down to his knees with a thump and a muttered curse about how that was going to bruise. Swinging his right arm, Ichigo gave him the hardest punch he could muster. His fist made a cracking sound wit Baldo's nose upon impact, successfully giving the thug a nosebleed. About to reward Baldo with a good, hard kick, Ichigo felt his arms being grabbed, and someone elbowed him on his head, making him see stars.

"Fucker!" Baldo was getting to his feet with the help of three gang members. "I'm gonna fucking kill you, you cocksucking bastard!"

Struggling against his assailant's loyal followers, Ichigo tried to get out of their hold before he faced Baldo's true wrath, but his efforts were fruitless. With three guys holding him down now, and another moving to grip his ankles, he was stuck.

Ichigo glanced around the deserted hallway, but there weren't any students or teachers making their way to the Art room yet. Besides, Block E was the last building situated right at the end of the school compound. No one but the Art students would go there. Just his luck to feel like heading to extra class early.

Baldo was raising his left leg, probably about to kick Ichigo in the face. He leaned in close with his mouth pursed, as if her were about to spit. Expecting gross saliva on his face, Ichigo cringed and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Yo, Amagawa."

Nothing came.

Ichigo blinked his eyes open at the sound of a crushed aluminium can smacking Baldo somewhere on the head. It ricocheted off his hard skull with a sharp clunk. Everyone's attention was drawn to the students on the stairwell.

Grimmjow stood at the top of the last flight of stairs, looking more than a little pissed. Nnoitra, Stark and Yammy stood behind him. Ichigo caught a glimpse of Szayel's shocking pink hair somewhere behind Nnoitra's backpack. God, the day could not get any worse.

"Jeagerjacques." Baldo said with narrowed eyes. "Ain't got no bone to pick with you. What're you doin' on my turf?"

"School's school property, Amagawa. Nobody owns it." Grimmjow smirked. "You're trying to suck face with my artist, there."

"Your artist?" Baldo – or Amagawa – made a face like a suffocating goldfish. "So he's one of your . . ."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes as Baldo waggled two fingers in quick succession. What was the idiot gesturing about?

"That's exactly right." Grimmjow gave him a big grin. "Now hand what's mine over here."

"What if I say I don't wanna?" Amagawa snickered.

Nnoitra sauntered down from the stairwell, headed straight for Baldo. In a flash, his foot hit the sneering thug right in the stomach, successfully winding him while sending him straight into three of his gang members.

"Little fish should just be eaten." Nnoitra said eerily, licking the top row of his teeth with a scary smile.

"Next time you touch one hair on him, Amagawa . . ." Grimmjow paused to let his words sink in before he flicked a red penknife into the corkboard pinned to the wall just above Baldo's head.

The knife stayed embedded in the peeling brown slat, the blade an inch or more deep.

The thugs took the message and turned tail, fleeing the scene like a bunch of whipped puppies.

"Right." Nnoitra stretched and yawned. "Anyone want a soda?"

"Nnoitra's treating!" Stark chuckled as he hopped down to pick up Ichigo's backpack, helpfully setting it to rights from the thug's ransacking. "Wow. Check this out, guys."

"Nice art." Yammy boomed as he peered over the sleepy-eyed brunette's shoulder. "He's real good."

Grimmjow made his way over to Ichigo, getting down on one knee and reaching out to grasp his shoulders. "You alright?"

Szayel leaned down, holding out a handkerchief dampened with water from his bottle. "Here, wipe the blood away."

"C'mere." Grimmjow sat down Indian style, pulling Ichigo toward him. "You're okay now. Those idiots won't touch you anymore, I guarantee it."

Ichigo watched Grimmjow with a mixture of confusion and distrust. He had no idea why the biggest bully in his life would help him – unless he wanted to use this as leverage for more teasing. Trying to push Grimmjow's hands away, Ichigo avoided the worried blue eyed gaze, feeling a light blush dust his cheeks. He felt embarrassed and kind of intimidated.

"Hey." Grimmjow reached out to tilt his chin gently. "What did they do to you?"

Jerking away, Ichigo muttered. "Like you care."

Szayel tactfully left them to talk and sidled over to peek under Nnoitra's arm at some of Ichigo's sketches. Grimmjow sighed and turned away, rummaging in his backpack. He retrieved a chilled juice box, which he handed to Ichigo with a smile.

"Drink this."

When Ichigo didn't move to take the carton, Grimmjow grasped his hand gently and placed it in his hold.

"I know it's your favourite."

Passion fruit juice was one of Ichigo's favourite drinks, but he had no idea how Grimmjow knew that. It just felt weird to him, but he was in no mood to complain. He'd skipped going out to Adzuki for a snack or two, and now he was kind of hungry. Juice wasn't a very good compensation, but it was close enough. He could deal.

"Thank you." Ichigo offered his saviour a smile, then winced as he moved his back a little.

A sharp pain spiked through his veins as he stretched his back. The back of his head throbbed; a little sore from when he'd hit the wall, but it was just a dull ache and it would go away soon. Ichigo was far more worried about his back.

"Aww, this is broken." Nnoitra said as he helped pick up all the bits of Ichigo's paint set. "I wanna see if I can fix it though."

"Naw, you can't." Yammy shook his head. "The cover's all cracked and stuff."

"Let him do it; he's good with his hands." Szayel said as he stacked some paper back into Ichigo's folder.

"Yeah, thanks for that visual, Szayel. I really needed it." Stark smirked as the pink haired teen blushed, rolling his eyes.

"Don't even go there!" Yammy groaned, while Nnoitra prodded him in the side.

Despite himself, Ichigo had to smile at them. They were so comfortable together; he couldn't help wondering why he wasn't friends with them. Well, aside from the teasing they gave him, but he could look past that.

"Art class is gonna start soon." Nnoitra said pointedly. "That means the other kids are gonna be coming through here with teachers. About time we made a move on."

Grimmjow reached under Ichigo's arm, giving him a gentle pull so he could help him stand. "Come on."

"I can walk on my own." Ichigo said, pulling his arm back.

Grimmjow sighed and stood up with a small frown marring his handsome features. He was torn between wondering if Ichigo was trying to get him to leave because he wasn't used to such kind attention coming from someone who made his life a teasing torment or because he was embarrassed and didn't wish to be rescued like a damsel in distress.

"No you can't." Szayel said firmly, walking over and sliding Ichigo's arm over his shoulder. "Your back hurts, doesn't it?"

Ichigo's face flushed, and he bit on his lower lip unconsciously, a habit he had never really gotten rid of. The tender skin cracked and blood seeped out once more. Grimmjow shook his head at Szayel, grasping Ichigo by the arm. In a flash, he had slipped his other arm under Ichigo's legs and lifted him up princess style. Nnoitra cheered as the orange haired teen protested.

"I'm taking Ichigo to the infirmary." Grimmjow said. "Bring his bag to class and cover for us. We're coming back."

Surprised, embarrassed, flustered and panicking all at once, Ichigo could do nothing but grab at Grimmjow's shirt as he was carried up the stairs, away from the safe vicinity of the Art room, and out of Block E.

"Do you want me to use the way through the courtyard or the back corridors?" Grimmjow asked with a serious look on his face.

Ichigo tried not to bite his lower lip again. "What's the difference?"

"Well, you'll meet a whole lot more people through the courtyard." Smirking down at him, Grimmjow chuckled as Ichigo gave him an alarmed look. "Alright, courtyard it is."

"N – No!" Ichigo stammered, grasping the folds of Grimmjow's white uniform shirt. "Don't!"

Grimmjow gave him a huge grin. "You're so easy to mess with."

"Just put me down!"

"Not a chance."

He tried to refrain from kissing the pout away from Ichigo's mouth as the orange haired teen relaxed his frenzied grip on his uniform shirt, pulling away with a soft sigh.

"Is it that fun to tease me?" Ichigo murmured, rubbing at a bruise on his jaw.

"Yes and no."

"Why?"

"Because you're cute."

What was he supposed to answer to that? Ichigo watched Grimmjow carefully, feeling the animosity for the other teen slip away with each step closer to the school infirmary. Though quiet, his mind was awhirl with a dozen or more thoughts. The sudden change in Grimmjow's behaviour was fairly puzzling, and the gentle way he was treating Ichigo was a matter of pure bafflement.

They reached the white double doors and Grimmjow shifted Ichigo's weight in his arms. "Give it a knock, will you?"

Ichigo complied. "Could you put me down now?"

"Nope."

Sighing, the orange haired teen consoled himself that at least no other student had seen them. At least, he hoped not. Classes were over and most of the school's occupants were either hanging out in the cafeteria or heading out to the rows of shops to spend their allowance on junk and treats.

"Sensei?" Grimmjow called out. "There's an injured student here."

There was no response; a hurriedly scrawled note on the school doctor's table read: "Went to the national hospital for an hour. See teacher on duty if emergency." Grimmjow heaved a sigh, while Ichigo chewed on his lower lip, oblivious to the thin trickle of blood dribbling down his chin.

"Stop that." Grimmjow chided, setting him down on the nearest cot.

The springs creaked and the wheels of the foldable bed squeaked as Ichigo made himself comfortable on the mattress. He licked at the blood on his lip, wincing as his saliva stung his open wound a little bit before fading away.

"Here." Grimmjow carried a white metal box with a Red Cross sign on its cover. "Show me all your cuts and scrapes."

"I'm not five." Ichigo frowned, taking the box from Grimmjow. "Thanks, but I think I can treat myself."

Sighing, Grimmjow dragged a stool over to sit by the bed and watched Ichigo clumsily swab a scrape on his right elbow with his left hand. He bit his tongue and decided not to jibe the orange haired teen about it for fear of getting a thorough tongue lashing. Ichigo already disliked him enough as it was.

"So, about the Art project . . ."

"What about it?" Ichigo was snappish, clearly not in the mood for idle chatter.

"Just wondering if Kyoraku-sensei has a crush on you."

A blush raged across Ichigo's cheeks like someone had mixed red and white and pink paint with water, then splashing it over his face.

"Wow, even your ears are pink."

"S-Stop kidding!" Ichigo brushed Grimmjow's hand aside as he tried to help him fit the bandage over his wound. "It's not like I asked you to do this; I don't want your help. I could've fought Baldy all by myself if I had the chance. You didn't need to poke your nose where it doesn't belong."

Grimmjow grinned. "You get pretty mean when you're defensive."

Ichigo caught himself before he spewed another biting retort. Grimmjow had helped him, and saved him too, literally. He was being a total dick about it.

"Sorry." Ichigo held Grimmjow's gaze for a few seconds before looking away. "I was just . . . upset. Thank you. Very much."

"It's cool. Don't worry about it."

Yeah, but he couldn't help but be worried about it.

"I really am grateful." Ichigo said softly, letting Grimmjow slip a new piece of bandage over the scratch on the side of his hand. "I'll treat you after this, anything you want."

"No, really." Grimmjow laughed. "It's fine. Don't force yourself. You hate me, remember?"

Oh.

He hadn't meant to let that slip out, but now that it had, he couldn't drag it out of Ichigo's ears and stuff them back into his mouth. He hadn't meant it like that; now Ichigo was going to feel obliged to treat him.

"Please." Ichigo shook his head. "Let me get back some of my dignity."

Hmm.

This was sudden, but he couldn't refuse. Ichigo could take back his words, either.

"Okay. If you insist."

Compared to how he did everything in jest, Grimmjow figured Ichigo's seriousness was pretty admirable. Still, he wasn't about to pass up on a date with the most gorgeous boy in his class just like that. There were so many things he could say offhand about what he knew from the way Ichigo acted during school hours, but outside of that – Grimmjow had no clue about Ichigo's own personal life. His memories, his childhood, his close friends, maybe he even had a girlfriend on the side, probably some pretty chick from another school with dyed hair and rosebud lips, all soft and clingy when she was with Ichigo, surgically attached to his arm.

No.

He didn't want to think about that. It made him insanely jealous.

The school bell rang, signalling the start of extra classes, but they both decided just to skip Art anyway. Ichigo couldn't go in and continue class like normal with bandages and plasters all over him. Ukitake-sensei was sure to do some questioning.

"Where do we go now?" Ichigo asked quietly as Grimmjow shoved the first-aid kit into the glass shelf marked 'Do Not Lock' in bold black letters. "I don't think we can stay here."

"School guards won't let us out at this time now." Grimmjow turned around to face Ichigo, pushing his hands into his pockets. "They'll file a truant report; next thing you know we're doing detention for three weeks straight."

"You sound very experienced in that matter." Ichigo stood up, brushing imaginary dust off his light gray uniform slacks.

Grimmjow shrugged. "Yeah. I get detention a lot. Wanna head out somewhere?"

"Um, but we left our bags with Nnoitra."

"Then let's go meet them when class ends. I know this great place we can hang out without being noticed."

Heading toward the door, Grimmjow turned around and held out a hand. "Coming?"

Ichigo hesitated for a fraction of a second, a dozen thoughts chorusing nay, but a hundred more saying yes. Despite his feelings, his instincts told him to reach out and place his smaller hand in Grimmjow's.

"Let's go."

It felt good to hold his hand.

x

It's not moving quickly. There's going to be ups and downs, because I don't plan to let their relationship go smoothly. Haha, I sound like an angry ex. I'd love to hear your thoughts!