AN: HAPPY EFFING NEW YEAR EVERYONE. Yeah I know I'm a bit late...but that's okay I totally have an explanationa whole lot has been going on in the interesting life of Shawn. If you guys didn't know already I'm active duty Air Force as a mechanic, and I'm stationed overseas in Turkey. So with that I've been swamped with settling in, and finishing up my studies and whatnot. Alas! I managed to get this chapter out. I don't want to make any promises, but I will try to update this more often. I have big plans for it. Anyway, enough about me and my boring life. Happy reading!


With a bagful of produce curled inside his right arm Ichigo managed to unlock the door to the condo and step in. It was strangely quiet, and the scent of Rukia's very sweet perfume invaded his nostrils.

"Koibito? I'm back from the market!" He spoke a bit loudly, letting his deep voice echo through the rather spacious interior.

When he heard no intimation of a response, he kicked the door shut and made his way to the kitchen sitting the brown paper bag filled with fresh picked fruits and vegetables on the counter. She must have gone out for an early lunch with her friends, or something. Either way, he may as well put everything away and figure out what he was going to cook for later.

It was pretty nice whenever Rukia wasn't home; he was able to just let loose and be himself without fear of repercussion.

He made his way into the bedroom, and pulled off the layers of clothes he wore starting with the black Egyptian cotton scarf he had around his neck.
After getting it off he conveniently used it to wipe away the sweat that accumulated on his forehead, then tossed it on the ground intent on picking it up later. Next to go was the gray pullover cardigan which was neatly draped over a sweat drenched vintage, sky blue crew neck, which he peeled off momentarily afterward.

Finally he stepped out of his designer square toed leather shoes, and unbuckled his belt allowing for his white slim jeans to drop at his ankles leaving him only in his low-rise boxerbriefs. When he felt the cool air break the thin sheet of sweat that covered his nearly nude body, a comfortable sigh left him.

Yeah it had hit triple digits that day, but that didn't give him any excuse not to cover himself up. There were two definite reasons for this madness. The first being, of course, Rukia; if he'd ever tried to leave in anything that showed too much skin she would give him a reason not to do so. A very painful reason not to.

The second was something anyone could see. Ichigo walked up to the mirror paned door of his closet and paused just to look at himself.

His eyes held heavy bags beneath them, with a healing bluish bruise circling his right eye; his face flushed while the rest of his body held a sickly pale tone. Bruised hand-prints around his neck were the first to be noticed, followed by long scars which trailed from his right shoulder to his bicep as a result of fierce clawing. On his rather toned pectorals, and down his washboard abdominals a scar from a second degree water burn colored his natural pasty flesh. On his back and at his right side were home of permanent yellow-brown bruises from frequent attacks, and a few previously broken ribs. The only thing that was unscathed were his legs, they were all he had that she hadn't gotten to.

The longer Ichigo looked at himself, the uglier he felt. There was never any going back from there, no matter how much he forgave Rukia he could never forgive himself for being so weak and allowing her to do this. He could never find it in himself to just go or even alone fight back. There was no one else on the planet that would find him even remotely attractive even if they managed to look past his bright orange hair and freckled face.

Being marked whenever he was abused by Rukia was something he couldn't bare, it was just a painful reminder that he fucked up and pushed her anger just that far. At times he really felt like he deserved it; he couldn't leave her when he felt like he was the direct cause of her wrath.

His jaw clenched and instantly he looked down at his feet, he couldn't even look at himself anymore. There wasn't even pain whenever he thought like this, but instead a hole in his chest where his heart should have been. It just managed to grow bigger with each passing day he managed to suffer.

Ichigo sucked in a deep gasp of air, then opened the closet door without looking at himself; he couldn't keep doing this forever, eventually it was going to have to stop.

He grabbed a long sleeve crew neck then stepped into a pair of baggy sweatpants. He peeled his socks off leaving them on the floor prior to closing the door and giving himself a look over as he was finally covered up.

Before he could fall into the reverie of self-loathing, he noticed the familiar polyphonic ringtone of his phone ringing from the kitchen.

He had a feeling that it was Rukia so he quickly ran into the kitchen – where he managed to leave his cell phone when he left for the market initially. Without paying much attention to whom it may have been, he slid his thumb across the screen and answered the call.

"He-Hello?"

"Heh. Hello, Ichigo. I hope you aren't always this awful at answering phones. It's kind of what a secretary does."

Ichigo's eyes widened once he realized whom exactly he was talking to. It had been a little over two weeks since his interview with the multibillionaire blunet; honestly he was starting to think that he wasn't going to get another chance. He swallowed thickly, at an attempt to compose himself and snapped back a response.

"I am really sorry Mr. Jaegerjaques, I was just coming home from the store and I needed to change. I-I can assure you I'm not nearly this bad at answering phones."

There was a slight pause, and Ichigo could hear the faint chuckle at the other man's end of the phone. "I've been tryin' to get ahold of ya for the past week. I've sent a few e-mails, then after no response I managed to get a hold of your cell phone number."

I never gave him my e-mail and Rukia is the only one that has this number... How did he...

"I'm sorry, I don't really have the chance to ever check my e-mail. Is there something you need?"

"Strange. Ya sent me read receipts, so I figured – forget it, it's not that important..."

Read receipts? What the hell?

"But as a matter'a fact yeah, there is somethin' I need from ya."

"What is it?"

"A second interview."

The fact that he got the second interview was great, but frankly he wasn't all that excited for it. "Oh. Uh... alright. When?"

"Well, I've given you about a weeks notice through e-mail. So today, in two hours."

"I-I can't get to Tokyo in two hours!"

"Don't bother. Be outside your door in exactly an hour and forty five-minutes, I'll have someone pick you up. Shower if you need to and don't bother getting too dressed up. Dress casual. We're grabbin' some lunch."

Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck, before glancing over at the clock on the stove just to assess how much time he had.

"Where am I going exactly?"

"Don't worry, you won't be going to Tokyo. I'm taking care of some business here in Karakura, so we'll be going to a bistro downtown. 'Vaizādo'."

Sounds familiar...

Ichigo shook his head with a tight squeeze of his eyes. "O-Okay. I think that'll fine. Domo arigato."

"Don't mention it. I'll see ya there."

With the click of the receiving end, the call ended.

The only problem he had was the fact that Rukia wasn't here, so he couldn't just tell her before going. Immediately after the phone call ended he quickly tapped in her number. When he got no answer, he hit redial and began to put the groceries away hoping that would calm his anxious nerves. After a second unsuccessful attempt, he sat the phone down momentarily to dispose of the paper bag.

Once he returned he grabbed the house phone instead and called her once more; instead of the phone giving a few rings and going to her voicemail, it just went straight to voicemail. She either turned her phone off or she was physically ignoring him.

I hate when she does this...

Since she wasn't picking up and never checked her voice mailbox, Ichigo quickly scribbled a note saying where he would be and who he would be with. Once he finished filling paper out, he set it on the refrigerator with a Chappy Bunny magnet.

Usually she didn't mind notes as long as he had his phone on him, and was precisely where he said he was going to be.

Meanwhile he couldn't even get her to answer her phone. Totally fair right?

Ichigo glanced over at the clock to see that thirty minutes had already passed. He left the kitchen and made his way to the bathroom. He quickly pulled off the clothes he put on just moments ago, and hopped into the shower. Usually bathing time was limited to less than ten minutes, baths were off limits and Rukia's permission was needed whenever he wanted to take one. However, she wasn't home and he was still a bit sticky from sweating so much.

He turned the dials for the water – of course using more cold water than hot – then, washed up routinely as if Rukia were watching him.

Shampoo. Lather in order: face, neck, shoulders, arms, pits, chest-to-stomach, back, sides, crotch, rear-end, legs, feet. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Get out.

Once he finished drying himself off, Ichigo walked back to the bedroom. He glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed and smiled noticing he still had about forty five minutes left. He walked over to the closet – intentionally looking past his reflection – and began the search for something casual.

When he finally pieced together the perfect outfit, he gave himself a good look over.

The orangette wore a rather tight, crisp white Henly shirt with the sleeves down to cover his arms, a pair of dark denim, slim bootcut Levi's, dull obsidian colored combat boots, with a loose gray infinity scarf around his neck and covering his light maroon eyes a pair of sunglasses to effectively hide the dark circle beneath his eye. He really was hoping he wasn't overdoing it and he hoped Grimmjow wouldn't make him remove anything.

He had less than ten minutes to spare, so he cleaned up the mess he made and with a sense of accomplishment Ichigo walked to the kitchen, double checked that the note was still mounted on the refrigerator, then grabbed his cell phone off the countertop, his set of keys out of the key dish and headed outside.

He didn't have too look very hard for his ride, as there was a jet black, 2013 S-Class Mercedes-Benz parked in the place where Rukia's plum colored Mustang would sit.

Leaning against the car was a tall man that had to have been around the same age as his father. He had shoulder length dark raven hair that was braided behind his back, a strong jawline, bushy eyebrows, and a rather stoic demeanor. He wore a black and white argyle sweater, with white slacks and black dress shoes. In his hand a Blackberry, with a lit cigarette betwixt his thin fingers.

Right when Ichigo closed the door to the condo, and locked it up the male against the car glanced over at him. He put the cigarette out using the bottom of his shoe and sat the remains in a silver-plated cigarette case which he pulled from his pocket.

"Are you Ichigo Kurosaki?" He asked slipping the Blackberry back into his pocket.

Ichigo warily stepped off the porch and in the direction of the mystery man.

"Yes. And you are?"

"Shawlong Koufang. I'm Mr. Jaegerjaques' personal assistant. I'll be taking to your second interview and lunch with him."

"Oh, um. Alright. I'm ready when you are sir."

"Right this way. Oh, and please Mr. Kurosaki, call me Shawlong."

Ichigo nodded his head, and followed Shawlong to the rear seats of the car. Once the man opened the door for him with a polite smile, Ichigo got in and secured himself into his seatbelt.


Karakura was a very nice, down to earth type place though Grimmjow could never see himself living there. He wasn't one for bumping into one of his subordinates whenever he decided to grab a drink at the bar, or running into his doctor if he needed a pack of cigarettes from the convenience store. Small towns just weren't his scene.

The only official business he had in Karakura Town was a brief meeting with the head of Kuchiki Corporations. However, he was more interesting in having another interview with a certain red head.

There was definitely something up with him, it was if he wasn't even looking forward to getting the job. That would explain the lack of e-mail responses. Hopefully the second interview would go slightly better in a more laid-back setting and Grimmjow could get more than a single word reply out of him.

It was pretty hot early on that day, but with the clouds quickly filling the sky and hiding the sun it soon got much cooler. With that he definitely took advantage of the situation and grabbed a small table that sat outside the bistro and instantly slipped a cigarette between his lips. He took a deep lungful of the sinfully sweet nicotine, and with a slow exhale he let the icy menthol cool his lips. As much as he loved his job, he definitely hated the meetings. He lacked the patience to sit still and listen to people talk about whatever. And there was the fact that he couldn't smoke or drink in many of the instances.

He pulled his Blackberry from his pocket and sat it on the table with a brief glance; luckily there were only a few e-mails and a couple text messages. Head of an enterprise or not, he needed a lunch break just like anyone else.

A few minutes later and his Blackberry began to vibrate on the glass table, as much as he wanted to ignore it the vibrating was already getting annoying. He glimpsed down at the small screen, and gave a cocked eyebrow once he saw whom it was – or rather whom it could've been.

Blocked number?

Out of curiosity he answered it with another deep drag of smoke.

"Hello?"

"..."

"Who the hell is this?"

"..."

"Speak, or I'm hangin' up. Ya got five seconds."

"..."

"Bye."

"Grimmjow wait! I-It's me."

In a matter of seconds he went from slightly irritated to completely irate, his blood was boiling, his teeth clenched, and while his entire form locked up. That high pitched, feminine tone of voice could only belong to the only man to break his heart.

How fucking convienent...

"Ya got a lotta balls calling' me up Luppi."

"I know...but I just thought you should know that there's something wrong with my key to the house. I can't get in."

Grimmjow had to stop himself from laughing.

"Of course they don't work dumbass, I changed the fuckin' locks. Didja really think I was just gonna let ya come back?"

"You're overreacting. I just want to go back and get a few things."

"Get a few things? Like the hundred thousand dollars ya been takin' from me every month wasn't enough? The fuck else couldja want?" He kept his voice as low as possible, but he could already tell he wasn't going to contain himself for more than about a minute.

"Please don't be this way, I really miss you. I didn't mean t –"

"Don't be what way?! I trusted ya. Let ya stay in my home. Y-ya didn't have to work o-or even pay fuckin' bill. I gave ya everything I could possibly give, but somehow it just wasn't enough for ya was it?"

Now he was standing, his fists tight and his heart racing in his chest. His stomach felt like it had been replaced with bubbling lava, and all he could see was red.

"Grimmy, it's –."

"DON'T YOU EVER CALL ME THAT AGAIN!"

"Grimmjow, I'm sorr-"

Without another word he ended the call and slammed his phone on the glass table, unintentionally cracking the surface and shattering his phone. He didn't notice he was trembling until he brought his cigarette to his lips to take a final drag from it.

How fucking dare he.

Grimmjow absolutely hated feeling like this. He was always the man in charge, he always set the rules, always had a plan, never let anyone catch him in a weak spot. Except for now, he was vulnerable. His heart physically hurt. He had never loved anyone before Luppi, never had he trusted anyone before Luppi. When he finally did, the situation ended up creeping up on him and stabbing him in the back.

He needed scotch. Lots of scotch to relieve the pain.

"Sir?" Shawlong spoke very carefully.

"What?" He snapped in a low, cautious tone.

"Mr. Kurosaki has arrived for his interview. He is still waiting in the car, but you don't seem to be in the right state of mind to interview him. Would you like to reschedule?"

Grimmjow shook his head with a reposeful breathe. Then in a much more tamed manner he looked up at Shawlong and replied. "No, no. Send him to me."

"Yes sir. Would you like me to wait here while you two have your meal?"

"No. In fact I need a new Blackberry. I broke this one too. I also need the number changed. Once you finish that, take lunch. I'll call ya on my personal mobile if I need ya."

"As for Mr. Kurosaki?"

Grimmjow rubbed the back of his neck upon sitting the cigarette butt in the ashtray. "I'll take 'im home. Just send the address to my car's GPS."

"Very well, thank you sir."

As short as his fuse was, he couldn't let it steer Shawlong away; the old man had been at his side long before he had money. There wasn't anyone in the world who could put up with him each day for years, and still have so much patience and respect for him. He was practically family.

The older man scooped the damaged smartphone into his hands then made his way to the car. He opened one of the rear doors and out stepped the man of the hour. Compared to what he wore to the initial interview, Ichigo looked great. For someone who did not project any type of confidence he actually dressed fairly well.

"Hello Mr. Jaegerjaques. Is everything okay? I heard you yelling."

"Yes, a'course. Everything's fine. I was uh, startin' to think ya wouldn't show."

"Well, it's not everyday, someone like you calls someone like me in for a second interview."

Grimmjow couldn't stop the grin that formed on his lips.

"Heh, and you're talkin' to me too? All I had to do was offer ya lunch to get ya to relax. I'll keep that in mind."

Ichigo's cheeks lit up to a light crimson, and even underneath those sunglasses he wore Grimmjow could tell he was staring at his feet.

"Go choose a new table, wherever ya want. I'll let the waiter know that you're here, and I'll go ahead and put in our orders. What would you like?"

"I'll have um – honeydew milk tea."

He crooked up an eyebrow.

"Boba?"

"If they have it, yes."

The blunet gave a civilized smile.

"Okay, sounds easy enough."

"Know what ya wanna eat yet?"

The orangette shook his head, and with that Grimmjow went inside.

He felt different all of a sudden, like that phone call had never happened. For some reason Ichigo made him feel a little better, and even made him smile too.

There was something different about this one, he couldn't just let him slip through his fingers.

Once Shawlong pulled up to the bistro, Ichigo remembered what was so familiar about the restaurant. He used to go to it all the time when he was in school, but for the life of him he couldn't remember why he just stopped going.
He always ordered the same thing, it wasn't very expensive, and it was pretty good. For some reason though, he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. However, Grimmjow tasked him with finding new seats so he shook his head of the pesky thought and proceeded to move spots.

After hopping to a few tables over, he surreptitiously gazed at Grimmjow as he stood in line waiting to be served. The man was angry enough to crack a table, but didn't have a care in the world beside that. He walked as if he owned the world, and stood as if he were a king and everyone beneath him were his peasants. There was a time when Ichigo had just as much confidence as Grimmjow, but then again that was a while ago when Ichigo was a completely different person.

Once or twice he ran his long, fingers through his wavy, blue disorderly hair and gave a charming grin to the cashier. He jerked his head over toward the table he'd assaulted, then once again combed his fingers through his unruly hair.

Ichigo was already growing annoyed with the man, he was practically flaunting his hair. There was no one else in all of Japan who naturally had that hair color, it wasn't unique it was stupid and weird. How could just about anyone take that man serious?

It's no better than your ridiculous orange hair...

There it was again, that voice that always haunted his mind. Ichigo bit into his bottom lip and stared down at his hands not liking where his wayward thoughts are headed. He had to stop thinking like this. Now was not the time to think like this.

"Somethin' wrong?" Grimmjow returned startling him.

Ichigo brought his gaze back up to him, the color promptly draining from his face.

He shook his head.

In the blunet's hand was a small rectangular tray, on the tray sat Ichigo's milk tea, with a small container filled with the orbs of tapioca, a rather large strawberry crumb-cake muffin and a medium sized mug. He placed Ichigo's cup in front of him, then sat his own items in his designated spot.

Grimmjow had gotten a coffee which presented a leaf-pattern imprinted in the milk. He set the tray aside, then sat opposite of Ichigo crossing his long legs. He looked comfortable, and at ease with his body it was like he loved every inch of himself.

Ichigo envied it.

"So, how exactly do ya know Byakuya?" Grimmjow started.

"I've been in a relationship with his younger sister for a few years now.

"Really? I wasn't even aware that he had a younger sister."

"They aren't blood related if that's what you mean. Her older sister had custody over her when they married so when she passed, Byakuya took her in."

"Hn. Makes sense." Grimmjow traced his finger over the rim of his steaming coffee mug, his eyes staring past Ichigo's sunglasses. "Got any siblings?"

"Yes. I'm the oldest of three. Their name's are Karin and Yuzu. They're both sixteen. Twins. Do you?"

"I've got a younger sister, and an older brother myself. Gustave, and Genevìeve-Adèle. I wish I was the oldest growin' up."

"Well, you were the middle child. I can see your point." Ichigo grinned.

Grimmjow laughed then picked up his mug placing the rim to his lips.

"So, what made ya drop out of Waseda? If I'm not mistaken you only had about half a semester of schooling left."

Ichigo didn't really know how to answer him, so he stalled the best he could. He grabbed the small spoon inside the container, plopping a few of the soft, slippery balls of tapioca into his cup. Once all of the boba sank to the bottom, he took a swallow of the sweet milk tea and cleared his throat.

Grimmjow took a casual sip of his coffee, then began tapping the ring he wore against the glass showing his impatience.

"I-I just needed a break."

Liar.

"Fair enough. Have any plans on going back any time soon?"

"Not really. I don't think I can handle the stress right now."

Grimmjow nodded slightly, seemingly satisfied with his response, then glanced down at his strawberry crumb-cake muffin. His long fingers deftly peeled back the paper; Ichigo watched with unnecessary fascination.

"Ya sure, ya don't want anything? I don't like sharin' my food." he asked with an amused tone, and a smirk to his lips.

"No, I'm alright. Thanks." Ichigo looked down into his drink again.

"What's your impression of me?"

"You're intimidating and you kinda make me nervous. To be honest, the only reason I'm here is because Byakuya went through the trouble of getting me the interview."

Ichigo mixed around his tea using his straw then took an idle sip. When he heard a sharp intake of air coming from Grimmjow he looked up.

"You should find me intimidating, I could potentially be your boss." he nods. "But, I shouldn't make ya nervous though. I really would like having ya as my secretary, I spoke with your previous employer, and a few of your old professors they had nothing but great things to say about ya."

Ichigo brought his cool hand to the back of his hot neck, his fingers twirling with the hairs that rested there. To have someone that actually wanted him for something, felt so foreign. He went through the trouble of finding his e-mail, personal mobile, and got in contact with his old professors and supervisor.

"Why would you do all that – for someone like me?" Ichigo muttered quietly.

"Frankly, it's because you're a mystery, Ichigo."

"There's nothing mysterious about me."

"Bullshit. You're wearing sunglasses – in the shade. Ya got an interview with a man that could buy and sell ya, yet ya find your feet, your hands or that damn tea more interesting than myself. Not to mention ya blush all the time, there's obviously something goin' on in that head'a yours and I wanna figure out just what it is."

He popped a small piece of muffin into his mouth and started to chew it slowly, not taking his eyes off Ichigo. His gaze piercing through the solarized lenses of Ichigo's glasses, then as if on cue crimson swept over his cheeks.

"Wow..." Ichigo exhaled.

"Am I makin' any sense here?"

"Yeah."

"Good. And sense we're on the subject, take off those glasses. I don't feel like we can continue this without any sorta real eye contact."

"I-I can't."

"Why not?"

"My eyes are very sensitive to the light."

"Fine, lets go inside."

Ichigo squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't see why it mattered if he wore them or not.

"No. Just – forget it." Ichigo spoke in a bit of hindrance, as he pulled the sunglasses off his face and sat them onto the table.

And there it was. That dreaded look he always used to get.

Surprise and curiosity.

"What the fuck happened to your eye?"

He didn't want to lie, it always made him feel like that much lower as person. He had never told a lie in his life, up until he met Rukia. He went from covering things up, to telling little white lies here and there, to completely making things up so no one would suspect he was being hurt. Telling the truth was never an option. Besides, who would believe him anyway?

"You saw for yourself how clumsy I am. I slipped and fell again."

Ichigo hated how natural it felt to just make up something like that; like he had to protect her.

"Yeah, looks like ya fell into a fist."

Ichigo sighed, and easily went along with it.

"The subway isn't as safe as you think it is, especially with hair like mine. Easy target."

Grimmjow laughed softly.

"I know what ya mean. Havin' hair the same color as cotton candy, wasn't too popular when I was in school."

"Really? I hardly even noticed it." Ichigo tried not to roll his eyes. Given he was still a bit annoyed with having to remove his sunglasses.

Grimmjow raised his eyebrows with yet another smirk.

"So, I do have to ask. Why haven't you asked me to call you by your first name? You seem pretty comfortable with calling me by mine." Ichigo muttered snidely with a sense of temerity.

Why had the conversation take such a serious turn? The interview wasn't going the way Ichigo thought it was going to go. He felt so antagonistic toward Grimmjow all of a sudden it was like he was trying to ward the man off.

Instead of a response, Grimmjow just glared directly into his eyes. Ichigo took a sip of his tea, chewing one of the balls of tapioca that managed to get sucked through the straw, while Grimmjow took another small piece of his muffin into his mouth.

Grimmjow took a different approach and changed the subject.

"Tell me about your parents."

Why does he want to know this?

"My father – Isshin Kurosaki is a doctor in Karakura Town. He runs his own clinic. He's kinda the reason I got into medicine."

Grimmjow nodded. "Your mother?"

"She died when I was eight."

"Oh, uh..sorry." he muttered a fleeting, troubled look crossing his face.

"It's okay."

"Did your father remarry?"

Ichigo snickered.

"I wish."

"You're not giving much away." he said dryly, rubbing his chin as if in deep thought.

"I'm only answering the questions you chose to ask."

Grimmjow looked him in the eye once again, with the same humbling look as before. Ichigo had to learn to control his attitude with this man. If he had done something to embarrass Byakuya, it wouldn't turn out very good for him.

"Aside from being a huge goof, my dad is pretty great. It doesn't surprise me that he hasn't remarried either, he's still very much in love with my mother. I really do miss him, and my sisters too."

Grimmjow was watching him intently, taking occasional sips of his coffee as he spoke.

Ichigo falsely but politely smiled.

"I take it you don't see your family often?"

"No, they don't approve of me dating Rukia."

"And why is that?"

Whoa. Red light.

"That's a little too personal."

"Alright, fine. Do ya have any hobbies?"

Ichigo shrugged.

What does this man expect? My life story?

"You're startin' to piss me off. All I asked is what ya do for fun. It's not that hard of a question."

Ichigo refrained from looking down or rolling his eyes.

Pull it together. Come on.

"I really don't do anything. I dunno. I like to cook I guess..."

Come to think of it, Ichigo really didn't do anything for fun. He mainly just looked after the condo and did whatever Rukia wanted.

That honestly wasn't a fair question.

Two can play at this game.

"What about your parents?"

"My father Guillame actually handed down the enterprise to me when it was starting up, and my mother Anastasia is a fashion consultant. They retired in Belgium."

"What about your brother and sister?"

"Genevìeve is a model in Paris, and my older brother is a pilot in Royal Air Force; he's stationed somewhere in America."

His eyes clouded with irritation as if he didn't want to talk about his family.

"Belgium, Paris, America, Tokyo – you're all spread out everywhere."

"Heh, che. We've always been that way as a family. Do you travel?"

"I've never left Japan."

"Would ya be interested in doing somethin' like that?"

"What? Leaving here? Sure, maybe one day. Why do you ask?"

"In my line of work, I travel everywhere and I usually have my secretary come with me."

"Oh."

For once there was a comfortable silence between them. Grimmjow finished his muffin, then shoved away his nearly empty mug of coffee. Ichigo continued sipping his tea, taking more of the chewy boba into his mouth before he pushed his empty glass toward the center of the table as well. He looked up at the blunet whom was lighting a limp cigarette which dangled from the corner of his mouth.

All animosity, and petty jealousy aside Ichigo really did have a rather serious question.

"Mr. Jaegerjaques?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it too late to order some actual food?"

Grimmjow glanced at him from beneath his lashes then began chuckling.

"It's about time ya said somethin'. I'm fuckin' starving Ichigo."

Ichigo laughed as well, and rubbed he back of his neck. "Sorry."

Grimmjow motioned for one of the waiters to come out, and momentarily one of them came out and took their orders. The food didn't take too long to prepare, and was in fact pretty good. The actual meal itself was surprisingly quiet, as both men just graciously cleared their plates.

food.

Once they finished up their food, a tall figure approached Ichigo from behind and sat the check in front of him. The orangette looked over his shoulder and felt his heart drop to his stomach, as familiar golden eyes, and short blonde tresses locked into his eyes.

The blonde gave a whopping big grin, and took a step back as Ichigo got out of his chair.

"Long time no see Ichigo." The man spoke upon wrapping Ichigo in his thin arms, in a tight embrace.

"Sh-Shinji."

It was then Ichigo remembered exactly why he hadn't returned to the restaurant in so many years.

"Excuse us for a moment, I'd like to speak to Ichigo in private." Shinji spoke over Ichigo's shoulder to Grimmjow, before dragging him inside.

"No problem." Grimmjow piped in rather distractedly as he lit another cigarette.

Oh. Fuck.


Grimmjow was actually surprised with how great everything was going. The orangette definitely needed an attitude adjustment along with a huge confidence boost. He was never the one to pity anyone, so instead of letting Ichigo stay how he was he definitely wanted to show him his potential.

It would be a nice project to get his mind off his current heartbreak, and it would definitely benefit Ichigo.

He had to admit that there was something fishy with his excuse for his black eye, but he didn't feel like the boy was in any real danger. The subway system in general was always sketchy, so who knows he really could've been telling the truth.

Grimmjow took another drag from his cigarette, and held it in his lungs for a good minute.

Ichigo was definitely a mystery. Grimmjow could tell by how much of a smartass Ichigo was, that he definitely had more than he was offering. There was something holding him back; something keeping him from being himself. He had to find out what it was.

When he expelled the smoke with a soft sigh, he put the lit end out and grabbed his cell phone from his pocket. He looked down at the time and snickered to himself. They had been talking for almost two hours. Time definitely flew.

Ichigo came back outside, and instantly picked his sunglasses back up gluing them to his face. As fast as Ichigo was Grimmjow still caught a glimpse of his slightly pink, puffy eyes. He either got really high really fast inside or he was crying. For now, it wasn't any of Grimmjow's business.

"Hey Mr. Jaegerjaques are you ready to go? I-I gotta get home."

Grimmjow nodded. "Yeah, just let me pay the bill."

"It's been taken care of sir. I'm friends with the owner."

"Alright then, lets go."

Grimmjow pulled out his wallet and left more than enough to cover the table he cracked, along with a tip for the waiter, then walked Ichigo to his car; a custom made midnight blue, 2014 BMW 3 Series.

Without much delay Ichigo stepped into the passengers seat of the car and pulled his seatbelt on.

What's with him?

Grimmjow turned on his GPS pleased to see that Ichigo's address was programmed into it. He started the car up and in a few seconds they were off. The orangette seemed off in his own world at that moment, he just stared blankly out the tinted window with his chin rested in his palm.

It was a bit of a drive to find his home as it was more so in the richer side of Karakura Town. The condominiums were pretty nice, but honestly Grimmjow found them a bit too flashy. Once the GPS indicated that they were at their destination Grimmjow pulled into the parking space and set the parking break.

Ichigo unbuckled his seatbelt then reached his hand over to open his door.

"Hold up a minute kid."

Ichigo looked over his shoulder. "O-Oh sorry. Um. Thank you for the second interview."

"Pleasure's all mine and really ya don't hafta apologize."

"No really I –"

"Are ya really gonna try to argue with your new boss?"

"Well no, but – wait. You don't mean that I –" The scowl Ichigo wore on his face quickly turned to a faint smile.

"Che. I'll see ya next Monday."

He respectfully bowed his head to his new boss. "Yes sir. I'll see you Monday Mr. Jaegerjaques."

"Yes ya will. Take it easy Ichigo."

With that final note Ichigo got out of the car and went inside. Grimmjow leaned his head back against the seat with a grin, then released the parking break.

"Let's try not to drive this one crazy Grimmjow."


~Translations~
Koibito (Japanese) – Sweetheart, love, babe, etc.
Vaizādo (Japanese) – Visored, vizard.

AN: Oooh...a cliffhanger. One of my specialties. *sigh* don't worry about what it's about just yet, I promise our orange haired protagonist isn't in any more trouble than he's already in. The plot thickens as well eh? Ol' Grimmjow taking Ichigo under his wing? This outta be good...

Reading over it myself I felt like this chapter moved really quickly, but then again that's just me. If you hadn't noticed I started messing around with the spacing of the dialogue just to experiment, if you guys have problem with it let me know.

Don't forget to leave any comments, questions or criticisms in the reviews, and to add it to your alerts.

Thanks for reading guys, I appreciate the loyalty even though I'm a horrible person for never updating ;-; !

I'll try my best to update soon!

-Shawn