CHAPTER 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...
Onwards...
XOXOXO
Seven Years Later
"Thanks, Unc. I really 'preciate what ya've done for me," Grimmjow said to the older, dark-blue haired man.
Mayuri put a slim hand on Grimmjow's arm and gave him his customary, creepy grin. When Grimmjow had been ten, the sight of that same smile had always made him squirm uncomfortably; now, he was used to it. "It was no problem, Grimmjow. I couldn't very well resist the urge to help my favorite nephew after hearing your plight from Retsu," Mayuri stated, mustard-hued eyes glowing with mischief.
Grimmjow laughed, the sound vibrating his broad chest. "I'm your only nephew."
Mayuri joined in the laughter. "Yes, well, that just makes my point for me."
Grimmjow sobered and studied his uncle. When he'd first arrived in America – New Jersey to be exact – he'd been wary of the older man he'd only seen all of five times in the past. He'd gotten off the plane and met Mayuri in the baggage claim, the then taller man greeting him warmly with one of those slightly unhinged grins. He had been fearful and homesick for the first year of his move, but something strange had happened as he'd entered the eighth grade.
"I gotta go, Unc. Thanks again for everythin'."
Mayuri nodded and patted him on the back. "Give your mother my love and tell her to call me more often," he stated with a slight frown.
Grimmjow nodded and hiked his gray and blue backpack higher onto his shoulder. He'd already checked his two suitcases into baggage, so he was ready to board. Grimmjow straightened his form-fitting, white t-shirt and stonewashed blue jeans before turning towards the doorway that led to the plane he would be riding. The announcement for the departure of his flight blared over the speakers and as he approached the doorway, he gave the man that had raised him for the past seven years, one last look and wave, then disappeared into the short corridor.
Grimmjow handed his ticket to the ticket handler and found his seat, right beside the window. He tried not to strut as he walked, noticing the admiring glances from women and men alike, some discreet, others no so much. He grinned smugly and ducking his head drastically, lowered himself into the seat, trying to position himself comfortably, so his knees wouldn't press so hard against the back of the seat in front of him. Grimmjow removed his backpack from his shoulder and set it in his lap, unzipping the smaller, lower compartment and pulling his iPod free. He unwrapped the headphones and stuck the neon orange buds in his ears, cranking up the first song on his 3OH!3 play list.
Girl, I gotta go. I'm finished with the show
If you wanna **** me, I won't say no
T-T-T-Touchin on my ****, while I'm touchin on your ****
You know that we are gonna ****, cuz I don't give a ****
Grimmjow closed his backpack and dropped it on the floor next to his size thirteen feet, then leaned back against the seat, glancing out of the small window to his right. His mind was pulled down a much traveled road, his thoughts automatically sinking into his past.
When he'd turned twelve years old, he'd been overjoyed to find that he'd grown a full three inches. Then, at the age of fourteen, he'd shot up an incredible six more inches. Fifteen saw him gaining ten more wonderful inches of height and sixteen met him with four added inches. Now, at the age of seventeen, he stood at a whopping 6'5", towering over most teens his age. He'd gone from runty little sixth grader, to tall and intimidating senior in high school. Well, once he got back to Japan, he would be a third year student.
That thought led him back to the person that constantly hovered over his conscience: Ichigo.
Grimmjow missed his best friend desperately, never allowing another person the privilege of that title. He was sure the orange-haired boy would understand the reason Grimmjow hadn't immediately returned for high school. Participating in American football in America would gain him invaluable experience and knowledge in the sport. He'd decided to stay and soak up as much as he could, but now, it was time for him to go back.
Grimmjow wondered if Ichigo thought about him the way Grimmjow did on a daily basis. He wondered what Ichigo looked like now. Was he taller? Was his hair still that fiery orange? What was he into these days? Did they still have almost everything in common? Most of all, though, Grimmjow couldn't wait to see the expression on the other boy's face when he saw how much Grimmjow had changed over the years.
Grimmjow cracked a grin as a stewardess stood at the front of the cabin and played a short video on seat belt how-to. Just as the brunette demonstrated buckling the seat belts, Grimmjow felt his grin fading, disturbing thoughts dampening his high spirits.
What if Ichigo didn't even think he was coming back at all? What if Ichigo had forgotten him, or brushed him aside? What if Ichigo didn't want to be friends anymore?
Grimmjow felt his stomach heave dramatically as he tried to banish those negative thoughts. Thinking that way would do him absolutely no good.
He just hoped his best friend hadn't forgotten him or worse, just plain didn't want to be bothered.
XOXOXO
One Week Later
Ichigo stared out of his bedroom window after sitting up and rubbing a hand over his face, trying to shoo away the remaining cobwebs of a deep, sick-free sleep. He'd already decided last night that he would return to school this morning and if he hadn't already told his old man about his decision, he probably would have changed his mind. He hadn't had a rest that satisfying for a whole week, in which he'd been so sick with a stomach virus, he'd had to stay out of school.
Ichigo sighed and tossed his aqua-colored, cotton sheet from his legs, the tangled mass shifting to the side in a soft lump. He moved to the edge of the bed and lowered his feet to the floor, his body still unused to moving around so much, but he outright refused to miss more classes. Besides, he wasn't sick anymore and it didn't make sense to stay home just because he wanted to be lazy. He dragged himself out of his room and into the bathroom, where he proceeded to shower and brush his teeth.
XxxxxxX
"Ichiiiiiigooooo!"
Ichigo grimaced at the deafening sound of his old man's booming voice as he shut the refrigerator, a carton of orange juice in hand. Isshin entered the kitchen and gave an endless smile that showed every last one of his teeth and stretched across his scruffy jaw. Ichigo rolled his eyes and poured himself a tall glass of the cold beverage, deciding ignoring the retarded older man was his best option.
Isshin crossed the space between them in three long strides, stopping beside Ichigo with his hands on his hips, still wearing that maniacal grin. "Ichigo! Papa is so proud of you!" he shouted.
Ichigo waited until he'd swallowed his juice to give his father a deadpan stare. "What the hell're you goin' on about?" he asked, confused by the man's random statement.
"You're getting older and more mature! You made the decision to return to school on your own! Pa-"
Ichigo placed his hand over his old man's face, effectively cutting him off. He gave a slight shove and pushed Isshin away from him. "You're so noisy and it's too early for that shit," he muttered, walking away and heading out of the kitchen.
He was going to be late if he stayed around listening to his father further lose his mind.
"Ichigo, language!" Isshin admonished, following behind him to the front door.
Ichigo grunted and slid his feet into his shoes, nabbing his messenger bag from the hooks near the door and sliding the strap over his shoulder. Isshin suddenly sobered and studied Ichigo, making him pause at the door and watch his old man right back.
What the hell was he thinking about?
"Ichigo, my son, try to have a good day," Isshin said somberly, his dark eyes serious and concerned.
Ichigo winced and nodded shortly, anxious to get away from the abruptly tense atmosphere. He slipped out of the house and started the ten block walk to Karakura High School, his mind a muddled concoction of thoughts and emotions. His old man had unconsciously just dredged up everything that Ichigo hated about his life these days.
He missed his mom, who had passed away six years ago in a tragic car accident and he missed his best friend, who had moved away seven years ago. The pain from the death of his mother was a little easier to deal with because he knew without a doubt that she wasn't coming back. She was gone, her ashes buried in a cemetery plot a few miles away from his home.
She was dead.
His best friend, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. Grimmjow had promised to come back for high school, promised that Ichigo would see him again and they could go back to being closer than brothers. Grimmjow had promised to come back stronger and Ichigo had been looking forward to it more than he looked forward to Christmas.
The first day of high school, he stood at the entrance until well past the first bell, anxious and excited as he searched the crowd of teens for the familiar blue hair and glacial blue eyes. There had been hundreds of students filing into the building that day, but none of them with the characteristics he wanted to see. Needed to see.
The bell had rung and Ichigo had been forced inside by one of the teachers. He'd even gotten a detention for resisting. That routine had gone on for the entire first two months of school, until his old man had been called in and Ichigo had been threatened with expulsion for his behavior.
He didn't care.
Had Grimmjow gone to a different high school? There was one across town, but mostly frequented by the richer population of Karakura.
Had something happened to delay Grimmjow's trip? Was he OK? Was he...dead?
Thoughts of that nature had plagued him constantly, making it impossible to sleep, sometimes even eat. Then, there were the equally disturbing thoughts of Grimmjow having forgotten about him and deciding to stay where he was. In America. Away from him.
Ichigo swallowed furiously as his mind wrapped around the image of a small, blue-haired and blue-eyed boy with a wide, nearly feral grin and the heart of a lion. Kami, he missed his friend. He had really hoped Grimmjow hadn't forgotten him, but as time marched on and Ichigo reached his third year of high school, he'd given up hope of ever seeing his best friend again.
Grimmjow had either forgotten him, or he was dead. Either way, Ichigo didn't think he'd ever see him again and it broke his heart.
It turned him into the boy he was today. He didn't really care about much. He was surly and always scowling and only did just enough to get by in school. He hadn't had any plans to go to college, but his old man had told him that he needed to go to make a living and he also needed to do something to take his mind off of his troubles. Ichigo decided to join the track team. He figured running was the perfect metaphor for his life at the moment, not to mention, it reminded him of Grimmjow.
Ichigo had done a heap of research just so he would be able to follow the game of American football and have some type of knowledge about the sport that his best friend had enjoyed so much. Grimmjow had wanted to be a running back, which involved running and dodging opponents while trying to make it to the end zone for a touch-down. It was a thrilling position and Ichigo had been eager to see the other boy playing it.
Ichigo kicked fiercely at a soda can rolling down the sidewalk as he scowled like someone had taken his most precious possession. In a way, someone had. Ichigo glanced up at the cloudless blue sky, inhaling the scent of fresh cherry blossoms and a beautiful Spring morning. He adjusted his short-sleeved school shirt and gray uniform pants, self-conscious of his bright orange hair that he was sure was practically glowing under the beaming, morning sun. It was nice, but a bit breezy, making goosebumps cover his arms as he quickened his pace.
The only person that wasn't family that had embraced his fantastically bright hair, had been Grimmjow. Even Tatsuki, Chado and Inoue teased him sometimes, but Grimmjow had never done so. He'd always looked at Ichigo's hair with reverence and awe, claiming he thought it was cool.
Ichigo's scowl deepened. He didn't understand why the kami felt it was necessary to put him through so much pain, so much angst. Sure he still had his childhood friends, had even made a new one in high school. Hell, he even had an active sex life, but it was nothing compared to the emptiness that enveloped him from the inside out. Grimmjow's absence had created a moon crater in his heart and the hole had yet to heal.
Ichigo lifted his head and glanced up at the looming, gray, stone building that was Karakura High. He blew out a disappointed sigh and moved past the front gates, fitting his mask of indifference over his face securely before he was spotted by any of his friends.
"Yo, Ichigo!" a deep, gruff voice yelled from near the double door entrance.
Ichigo narrowed his eyes as they landed on his more recently made friend. The taller boy sauntered over, a black backpack slung over his broad left shoulder and his fire engine-red hair up in a ponytail. A white bandana was wrapped around his head, almost covering his tattooed eyebrows and russet-colored eyes and a wide, mischievous grin was spread across his face. His school shirt had the first three buttons undone and his black tie hung limply around the shirt's collar. His pants were wrinkled and kind of baggy, but Ichigo knew for a fact that the guy didn't give a crap.
"Ya finally made it back, eh?" Renji continued, deep voice vibrating the ground.
Ichigo nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets as he studied Renji's handsome face, frowning a bit as he did so. Renji was never this happy this early in the morning. A gaggle of girls walked past them giggling and whispering.
"Yeah, did you see him? Oh my god, he's so tall and handsome!"
"I know, right?"
Ichigo frowned as his eyes followed the girls, wondering who the new flavor of the month was. Girls were so finicky and fickle. They changed crushes like they changed panties; it was disgusting. It was also the reason Ichigo found himself not attracted to them. He turned back to Renji and huffed. There it was again. Renji was wearing this grin that gave Ichigo the heebie jeebies.
"What the fuck's your problem, moron?" Ichigo snapped, tired of being left in the dark to whatever Renji found amusing.
Renji's grin turned obnoxious in a heartbeat, wide and filthy and completely getting under Ichigo's skin. Renji opened his mouth to speak, but was slapped in the back of the head hard by Tatsuki, who had just approached them with Chado and Inoue in tow.
Renji whirled on his heel and glared down at the shorter female, who was glaring right back, except her glare was a million times more potent. "What the fuck, shorty?" Renji snarled.
Tatsuki glanced at Ichigo, but immediately returned her attention to the upset red head. "Oh, give it a rest, idiot. That's how I greet you all the time," she snapped, but her eyes said otherwise.
Ichigo was no fool. Tatsuki's mouth was saying one thing, but her eyes were saying another. Those dark brown eyes were screaming "If you don't shut the fuck up, I'll kick your ass!" Ichigo figured if there was something they didn't want to tell him, then that was fine. He glanced over at Chado and was surprised to see the silent giant giving him a tiny, little, miniscule smirk. Anyone outside of their group wouldn't have been able to recognize it, but Ichigo saw it and it made a chill slide down his back.
Was Chado in on the secret too?
Ichigo let his eyes move to Inoue, who was smiling brightly, her steel gray eyes crinkling in the corners. Ichigo probably would have been suspicious, had her smile not been an everyday occurrence, but it was, so he couldn't tell if she was in on the secret as well.
"Good morning, Kurosaki-kun!" she chirped cheerfully and waved.
Ichigo nodded and grunted a greeting, his attention going back to the squabbling red-haired male and raven-haired female between them. Tatsuki had her hands on her hips, her feet spread shoulder-width apart and her brows creased in a furious scowl. Her school shirt and skirt flattered her slim figure, but Tatsuki always managed to look like a tomboy with the added gray sweatbands around her wrists.
Renji stood stiffly glaring down at her, his reddish-brown eyes narrowed and his wide mouth pursed into a tight ball. Tension rolled off of both of them, but something clicked in Ichigo's mind and it suddenly made him laugh. Tatsuki and Renji turned to look at him like he'd lost his mind as he doubled over, clutching his gut and howling with mirth.
"I-Ichi-go," Tatsuki started nervously, her eyes wide as she stared at him.
Renji was in no better condition as he arched a brow and watched him warily. "What's goin' on, Ichigo?" he growled.
Ichigo slowed his laughter and tried to catch his breath, stomach still clenching from random spasms. "Oh, kami! Oh, kami, I get it now!" he stated, still spastically chuckling. "It's so obvious!"
Suddenly, a panicked look descended over Renji's features as he stepped right in front of Ichigo, looming over his 5'10" by three inches. "Shut up," he said quietly and way more seriously than Ichigo could have believed him capable of.
Ichigo sobered and studied his friend's face, getting the message loud and clear. Ichigo was right, but Renji didn't want anyone to know just yet. Ichigo nodded and his face resumed its usual scowling countenance as the bell sounded and they all started off towards their respective classes.
XxxxxxX
Ichigo stared out the window, eager for class to be over and done with already. Lunch had come and gone, but he hadn't had much of an appetite, so he'd decided to stay inside and catch a nap. Now, he was just anxious to get to practice so he could get home and clear his mind. All day, strange things had been happening. His friends were obviously holding out on some juicy bit of information, Renji obviously had a crush on Tatsuki and to top off the weirdness of the day, there was a new kid that had all the girls – and even some of the guys – worked into a lusty lather.
He was supposedly ridiculously tall and muscular and really good at American football. He'd only been there a week and after one tryout for the team, the coach, Kenpachi Zaraki, had recruited him eagerly. Ichigo had tried to get some information from Renji, who was also on the American football team, but the red head was still mad at him for almost exposing his little secret and refused to talk to him, so there went that option. Ichigo sighed and rested his chin in his hand, his elbow on his desk.
He'd just have to find out on his own, then.
The bell rang and shook the students from their stupors, excited chattering erupting almost immediately. Ichigo shook his head in amusement as he stood and gathered his book, sliding it into his bag and slinging the bag over his shoulder. Yamamoto-sensei had a habit of putting his students to sleep with his boring lectures and monotone voice. Ichigo never did think the old man was suited for being a Literature teacher.
Ichigo dragged himself from the classroom and headed through the throngs of happy students, slowly making his way to the boys' locker room to change and get ready for practice. He was sure Yoruichi-sensei was already there cracking her whip. He shuddered and pushed through the large, blue metal door that screamed on its hinges and required much more effort than should have been necessary to open the damned thing.
Ichigo traversed past the first three rows, going for his locker, but was pulled into a darkened section of the locker room by a strong pair of arms. A firm set of lips pressed against his and Ichigo grinned into the kiss, immediately recognizing the culprit by his unique smell. Cinnamon and vanilla. Ichigo opened his mouth to allow the other person's warm tongue entrance, tangling and contorting it with his own.
Pulling away from the drugging kiss to breathe, Ichigo peered through the darkness and grinned saucily. "Couldn't wait 'til after school?" he asked airily.
The dark-haired male grinned back and shook his head, spiky hair appearing to stand on end and coal-colored eyes twinkling playfully. "Nope. I've been thinkin' 'bout you all day," he murmured, leaning in for another kiss.
Ichigo chuckled and ran a hand through the other male's soft hair as he pecked his lips. "Well, you know we can't do anything right now. Yoruichi will kill me if I miss practice...again," he added as an afterthought.
"I know, I know. She's such a bitch," the dark-haired male griped. Ichigo nodded his agreement, slowly running his hand down the back of the other boy's neck. "Oh, yeah! Did you see the new kid, yet?"
Ichigo rolled his eyes and dropped his hands. Not him too. "No, Shuu, I haven't. Why? What's so special about him?"
"You mean other than the fact that he's a fucking giant?" Shuuhei asked incredulously, giving Ichigo a gentle shove out of the dark corner, where the old and unused shower stalls were.
"Well, that's nothing new. Look at Nnoitra! He's like eight feet fucking tall, but no one's orgasming in the halls over him. Yammy and Hachi are big as hell, too. I just don't see what all the fuss is about," Ichigo groused as he went to his locker and opened it, pulling his practice shorts and tee free.
Shuuhei sat on the bench in the middle of the U-shaped group of lockers and shrugged. "Well, that's the thing. This guy isn't just big, he's really good-looking, too. He's got this crazy b-"
"Yo, Hisagi! Ya gonna sit there and bump yer gums all day with yer little girlfriend er what? We got a practice ta get ta!" a short, white-haired male called from the opening of the group of lockers.
Shuuhei glared at the other teen and gave him the finger. "Fuck off, Di Roy. I'll be there when I get there," he growled.
Di Roy cracked a strange grin and gave Shuuhei the finger right back. "Not if I have anythin' ta do wit' it. Ya know Izuru-sensei is jus' waitin' fer ya ta fuck up!" he said with a cackle before disappearing from view.
Ichigo shook his head and turned to look at Shuuhei. Even though he was curious about what the dark-haired boy had been about to say, he decided Shuuhei's position on the tennis team was more important. "You should go. You know that little fucker has it out for you," he stated before turning his back and dropping his uniform pants.
He glanced over his shoulder to see Shuuhei staring at his legs hungrily, his eyes traveling up and lingering on his ass. He chuckled and wiggled his bottom a bit, making Shuuhei glance up at him, inky eyes smoldering with lust. "You'll pay for that," he muttered as he stood and wrapped his arms around Ichigo's waist from behind, pressing a small kiss to his temple. "Just watch."
With that, Shuuhei shoved off and Ichigo finished dressing alone. The locker room had cleared of other boys while they'd been in their special corner by the showers that were no longer functional, but the school hadn't had time to get rid of them. They'd instead built bigger and better ones on the opposite side of the huge room.
Ichigo stuffed his uniform into his locker along with his bag before leaving the sweat-smelling room and heading up the stairs that led out to the sports field. There was the four hundred meter track that surrounded the American football field, then a couple hundred meters to the left were the tennis courts and a few hundred meters from those was the soccer field. The baseball field was over a hill, on the opposite side of the school campus and they even had an indoor pool near the academic wing.
Ichigo jogged out to the track, noticing the presence of the football team on the field, their kami-like bodies making Ichigo feel like a kid in a candy store. Ichigo spotted Nnoitra Jiruga immediately, his tall, lanky form standing to the side of the bench and beside a few of his other teammates. His red jersey sported the number "05" on the back in bold white print.
Hachigen Ushoda, Yammy Riyalgo and Zommari Leroux were on the field, their respective numbers "09", "10" and "07". Ichigo knew they were the linemen, along with two other gorgeous guys named Starrk Coyote and Kensei Muguruma. Starrk was "01" and Kensei was "69". Ichigo wondered what the sixty-nine was about, hoping maybe it was something perverted like he thought it was.
Ichigo spotted Renji standing next to the bench beside Nnoitra and a few other members of the team. His number "11" stood out on his red jersey, the shirt nearly blending in with his hair. Renji was talking to the pink-haired quarterback – whose name was Szayel Aporro Grantz and number was "08" - and another person Ichigo didn't recognize. The guy was sitting, but still heads above everyone else on the bench. He wore a helmet and the number "06" on the back of his red jersey. Ichigo admired the boy's long, muscular legs that were stretched out in front of him, wondering what he looked like underneath that helmet.
Then, he realized that that must be the new guy everyone was so in love with. Well, if those legs were an indication of the rest of the package, then he could see why the entire population of Karakura High seemed to be in love with him. Shaking his head, Ichigo jogged over to where the track team was already stretching and warming up, Yoruichi-sensei at the head of the group, her whistle poised at the edge of her pouty lips.
Ichigo tried to blend in with the rest of the team, easing over beside Tatsuki and Chado, but to no avail. Yoruichi's sharp gaze found him and ripped him apart, without her even needing to say anything. The look she gave him let him know that he had a lot of two hundred meter dashes to look forward to.
Ichigo started a set of lunges and glanced over at Tatsuki, who was wearing a small, secretive grin, her eyes locked on the football field. Ichigo followed her gaze and arched his brows in surprise as he realized she was watching Renji rather avidly. The red head was tossing back a bottle of Gatorade and reaching for his helmet on the bench beside the new guy.
The new guy used that time to stand, adjust his helmet and insert his mouth-guard, completely knocking Ichigo off balance. He couldn't believe the size of him. He was tall, maybe an inch or two shorter than Nnoitra and built like an underwear model. His arms were thick with muscle, but not grotesquely so and his legs were long and extremely muscular. Ichigo didn't even know legs had that many muscle groups.
His mouth hanging open, Ichigo watched the boy stride confidently onto the field and take up position a few meters from Szayel. Nnoitra stood on the opposite side of the pink-haired quarterback and everyone else formed the line. Renji's position as tight end afforded him flexibility on the field, but Ichigo wasn't even thinking of that as he watched the new guy lean forward, eyes focused in front of him.
Ichigo felt like he was watching a real game, the tension and anticipation that intense. He rose to his full height and shamelessly watched as Hachi hiked the oblong ball into Szayel's hands and the other members of the team sprang into action. Ichigo kept his eyes on the new guy, though. Number "06". He ran towards Szayel and Ichigo realized it when the ball exchanged hands. Six had the ball tucked into the crook of his left arm and was heading directly through the middle of the line that Hachi, Yammy, Starrk and Kensei had broken wide open.
Six maneuvered through the gap effortlessly, dodging opponents and shoving aside those that got in his way. He was like a mack truck at 150 miles per hour, slicing through the other boys like a hot knife through butter. Ichigo was amazed and stunned. He continued to watch as Six went on to score a touchdown, Nnoitra – the only one able to match him in height – running up to him and jumping into the air to bump shoulders with him.
Before Ichigo could do anything else, a whistle was blown in his ear, making him wince and whip around to lock gazes with a pissed Yoruichi-sensei. Her golden eyes were furious and Ichigo knew he was in trouble. "Kurosaki, I didn't know you were so eager to test your two hundred meter skills," she crooned.
Ichigo sighed and without saying a word, trudged off towards the starting line at the curve of the track. He cursed his inattentive behavior, knowing for a fact that he had a lot of running to look forward to, but he hadn't been able to help himself. There had been no way he could have kept his eyes off the new guy.
He was talented and had an amazing body.
Ichigo lowered himself into the starting position, crouched down to where his right knee touched the ground and his arms were braced by the thumbs and forefingers of each hand. Yoruichi blew the whistle and Ichigo raised his right knee, poised to take off at the next whistle. Once she blew it, he shot away from the line like a bullet from a gun. His arms and legs pumped vigorously as he settled into a quick stride.
Ichigo loved the breeze against his face as the world hurried past him. He was just getting into the swing of things when he reached the other end near the scoreboard and had to slow his stride, placing his hands on his hips as he tipped his head back and gulped down huge lungfuls of air. The run had been invigorating and officially had his heart pounding and his blood rushing.
He loved it.
He lowered his head and took in his surroundings, his lazy perusal coming to a grinding halt when he realized he was being watched. Six was standing at the football field's sideline closest to Ichigo, staring at him avidly. The sun was blocking Ichigo from seeing anything other than the boy's enormous silhouette, but Ichigo knew without a doubt, he had gained the boy's attention somehow.
Ichigo averted his gaze, uncomfortable with how intently the other boy was staring at him. What the hell was his deal anyway? Had he never seen someone running on a track before? Ichigo knew the notion was ridiculous, but that was the way it seemed. Without warning, Six started towards him, leaving the football field even though Kenpachi was screaming his head off at him, and stepped onto the track with slow purposeful steps.
Ichigo's heart jumped into his throat as he watched the boy's walk. It was sexy, confident and calm, but there was also something familiar about it. Six finally stopped right in front of him and Ichigo had to crane his neck and tilt his head back, just to see his eyes. The sun's glare prevented it, though, pissing him off as he visored his own eyes. Six stepped closer and finally blocked the obnoxious sun, but what Ichigo saw made his breath catch in his chest as he stood rooted to the spot.
Devilish, electric blue eyes gazed down at him, a mile-wide, feral grin creasing an angular face.
Ichigo felt like his heart was seizing between slow, hard thumps. He put a hand to his chest as his mouth opened slightly. There was only one person he knew with eyes that startlingly blue. Six pulled his helmet off and Ichigo gasped at the sight of that bright blue hair, stubborn strands hanging over the brow and bright blue eyebrows arched perfectly. Ichigo couldn't breathe, couldn't even think beyond the fact that he was looking at the boy he'd missed like a severed limb.
And with good reason.
Ichigo didn't recognize this insanely tall, muscular, spectacularly handsome...young man. The friend he remembered was small and petite for his age. A boy. This guy was just in a league of his own, making every other male Ichigo had ever encountered pale in comparison.
"Hey," Six said and his voice was like...that first sip of hot chocolate during a cold, Winter's night. It was deep, rich and smooth and slid over Ichigo like a thick blanket, making him shiver, even though he was nowhere near cold. "Sorry I'm late, but I told ya I'd be back."
Ichigo nearly swooned to the floor as he stared up at his best friend. The boy he had already given up hope of ever seeing again. "Grimm?" he breathed.
Six's grin turned into an amused smirk and his blue eyes softened as he nodded. "Yeah, it's me, Ichigo."
Grimmjow.
XOXOXO
Grimmjow stood staring down at his old best friend, heart hammering and chest tight with an emotion he hadn't felt since the last time he'd seen Ichigo. After being in Japan for a week and seeing no sign of the orange-haired boy, he'd begun wondering if Ichigo even attended the same school. Then, he'd seen the tall brunet, the short raven-haired girl and the cheerful orange-haired girl that Ichigo used to hang out with when they were younger, so he'd approached them and asked about him.
The answers he'd received had been unsatisfying at the most. He'd been told that they didn't know what he was talking about and hadn't seen Ichigo since middle school. Well, that had been after they'd gotten over the initial shock of his changes. He wasn't that puny little kid they remembered and Grimmjow supposed it had taken some getting used to.
A week had gone by with the same results and he was at his wit's end, ready to charge Ichigo's old address, not even sure if the boy still lived there or not and then...he'd appeared. Just like that. Grimmjow had just finished scoring a touchdown during practice, when he'd noticed a blur of tanned skin and bright orange hair shooting past him on the track surrounding the football field. His mind had blanked out as he'd watched the other boy running with a cheetah's grace. His long-legged stride was perfectly text book, legs muscular and strong-looking, but at the same time lean and wiry. His arms were toned and accented the rest of his body flawlessly.
Grimmjow followed him with his eyes and hadn't realized he'd done so with his body as well, until he registered Kenpachi screaming about leaving the field during a practice. By then, it was too late and he'd already been entranced by the sight of the boy he'd missed more than his own mother while he'd been in America.
Grimmjow was only vaguely aware of Ichigo staring right back at him as he stepped onto the track, headed straight for the orange-haired male. Ichigo was wearing an uncharacteristic scowl that furrowed his orange brows and turned his full lips down in the corners. His hair was longer than Grimmjow remembered, reaching about the third vertebrae of his spine and nearly covering his left eye and his face had lost its previous childish roundness.
This Ichigo was grown and extremely sexy.
Grimmjow slowly approached him, his mouth creasing into a smile as he closed the gap between them. It was him. It was HIS Ichigo. His best friend. He stopped in front of the other boy, heart trying to cease beating as he gazed down at those molten brown eyes he'd longed to see again. Ichigo tipped his head back to look up at him, his face confused and annoyed and Grimmjow realized that the sun was blocking his view. He knew the exact moment recognition hit Ichigo when he stepped forward to keep the sun from hindering Ichigo's view.
Those eyes...those warm, kind, pecan-brown eyes widened drastically and Ichigo put a hand to his chest, his mouth slipping open as he stared up at him. Grimmjow pulled his helmet off and allowed his grin to spread when it seemed like Ichigo's eyes would fall right out of his head. He spoke to his best friend, just wanting to hear his voice after seven long years of separation. "Hey. Sorry I'm late, but I told ya I'd be back."
"Grimm?" Ichigo breathed and Grimmjow had to stifle a shudder.
Ichigo's voice was no longer that of an adolescent's. It was deep and husky, but still held that comforting tone Grimmjow had always clung to. Not only that, but just the sound of the name Ichigo used to call him, was enough to have him swaying in place from the sudden strong wave of nostalgia that crashed over him.
Grimmjow grinned, the urge to hug the other boy almost overwhelming. Instead, he nodded and confirmed Ichigo's suspicions. "Yeah, it's me, Ichigo."
Ichigo listed to the side and his face paled. Grimmjow almost panicked, but stopped himself when he realized Ichigo was fine and already regaining his lost composure. The orange-haired boy's face flushed as he averted his gaze, a shy smile suddenly blooming over his handsome features and stealing what little breath Grimmjow had been trying to hold on to.
And then, Ichigo leaned forward and wrapped his slim arms tightly around Grimmjow's mid-section. Grimmjow inhaled sharply, unsure of how to react, just like that time all those years ago, before he dropped his helmet to the ground and slowly brought his arms up to embrace his best friend. Emotions filled his chest like a water balloon as his eyes stung and threatened to overflow.
Kami...
Ichigo let out a deep breath as if he'd been holding it in for seven years and began speaking, his voice muffled by Grimmjow's chest. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again. I thought you were dead or something. I thought maybe you didn't wanna come back and that you forgot about me," he mumbled.
Grimmjow scowled and tightened his hold on the other boy, not realizing that doing so, lifted Ichigo's feet from the ground. "Hell no," he disagreed. "I just wanted ta get as much experience as I could in the game 'fore I came back. I figured we could go ta college tagether and catch up on things," he rambled before taking a deep breath and attacking the meat of the situation. "I thought ya'd forgotten about me. I didn' even know if ya attended this school. I was ready ta come lookin' for ya at yer old address. Ya still livin' there?"
Ichigo nodded and chuckled. "Yeah. We haven't moved yet," he answered. Ichigo looked up at him, his sable brown eyes mischievous. "I'm glad you didn't forget about me, Grimm, but d'you think you could put me down, now?"
Grimmjow blushed when he realized he'd been holding the teen off the ground unconsciously. "S-sorry," he muttered, embarrassed as he let him down gently and stepped back.
Ichigo just stared at him for a few beats. "You certainly came back stronger alright," he said quietly, his eyes finding Grimmjow's with a bashful uncertainty.
Grimmjow cracked a grin and nodded. "Yup. I started growin' when I turned twelve and didn' know how ta stop 'til I hit this height."
Ichigo whistled and nodded his approval. "How tall are you exactly?"
"Six-five."
"Holy shit."
Grimmjow laughed and ruffled Ichigo's soft, orange hair affectionately. "Guess ya don' gotta protect me now, huh?" he teased, making Ichigo's face turn a brilliant shade of maroon.
"No, I guess not," Ichigo agreed.
There was a short moment of silence where all they did was exchange looks. Finally, Grimmjow couldn't take it anymore and opened his mouth to speak, but obviously Ichigo had the same idea.
"I mi-"
"I rea-"
Grimmjow snapped his mouth shut, waving his hand and indicating that Ichigo should continue. Ichigo continued to blush and shrugged nonchalantly. "I was just gonna say that I missed you...while you were...gone," he said softly, eyes on the ground.
Grimmjow felt his face tingling with warmth as he grinned and watched his best friend stammer like a shy little girl. "I missed you, too, Ichigo."
They locked eyes and Grimmjow swore he would never separate from his best friend, ever again.
Well, I'm beat. Tell me whatcha think, please! Thanks for reading!