Disclaimer: Bleach is the property of Kubo Tite. I own a Renji teacup.


Chapter Four

Grimmjow strode down the halls with agitated purpose as Orihime's words replayed themselves in his mind:

"Does that mean I still get another favor since I put your arm back together twice?"

His brows furrowed even more than usual. Why did she have to go and say that?! If there was one thing he hated more than losing a battle, it was to know that he owed somebody something. He disliked owing as much as he disliked giving favors. He stood alone, detached from everyone else. He was his own man, and he liked it that way.

Grimmjow kicked open the door to Orihime's room, by now already accustomed to her surprised reaction. He glared daggers at her while she stood motionless, probably waiting for him to tell her why he was here. Eventually, he looked away. "What the hell do you want?" he asked, somewhat grudgingly resigned, still frowning with full force.

"Eh?" Orihime asked with her own frown, completely befuddled. He was the one barging into her room, and he wanted to know what she wanted?

"For the healings, damn it!" he responded, still looking everywhere except at her. "I still owe you two."

She blinked. "Oh! Well…" This certainly was unexpected, and she couldn't think of anything off the top of her head besides… "I want to—"

"You can't leave," he deadpanned before she could even finish.

"Oh…" Even though she already knew that, it was still disappointing.

"Is there someone else's ass you want kicked?" He was good at that, and it was an activity he rather enjoyed.

"Eh? No."

"What?!" he exclaimed, finding that hard to believe. "Not even Ulquiorra?" The sexta Espada was really hoping she'd say Ulquiorra. That would give him enough reason to throw the first punch. Unfortunately for him, her response was a solid "no."

Orihime studied the blue haired arrancar, thinking that perhaps Superhero Grimm might really be buried deep in there somewhere after all. He was so strange. Threatening one moment, almost nice the next, then practically insane immediately following. His actions were unpredictable, but she didn't really get the feeling that he was going to hurt her. She was pretty sure he wouldn't kill her…at least for now…since it seemed like he wanted her "help", if one could call it that. There were so many questions she wanted to ask.

Then her face lit up as the light came on. "Ah! Maybe you can answer some questions for me?"

Grimmjow raised a brow at her strange request, thinking she must be the easiest person in existence to please. "That's it?"

She nodded enthusiastically with a smile.

After a moment's consideration, he sauntered over to the couch and plopped himself down. With his chin in hand and his elbow on his knee, he sat and waited with a bored look on his face.

It was weird, but Orihime actually kind of liked Grimmjow's visits. If nothing else, it took the monotony out of the day, dispelling the loneliness if only just for a short while. It definitely helped take her mind off her current situation.

Feeling a bit awkward, she timidly took a seat beside him, though making sure not to sit too close. Once she settled in, she tapped a finger on her chin, turning her eyes up to the ceiling in thought. There were just so many questions. Which should she ask first? "Umm… Does your mask get in the way when you try to brush your teeth?"

Grimmjow gave her an incredulous frown. Did he even hear her right? "What the hell kinda lame question is that?!"

She scratched her temple with a finger, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Eheheh… Well, I've always wondered since it's kind of just right next to your mouth," she explained, now gesturing with her hands, becoming more animated. "And even if you can brush just fine, it must be easy to get toothpaste and that bubbly foam on the underside of the mask, and then it must be annoying to try to wash it back out, and…" She paused as she noted how Grimmjow's expression had evolved from incredulous to shock. She tilted her head. "Do you not brush your teeth?"

"Ask a different question!" he all but yelled.

Orihime jumped slightly at his volume. "Oh…well then…" She cleared her throat and looked away. "Grimmjow, are you…masochistic?"

Dead silence.

When she glanced back at him, his expression had evolved once again from shock to something more akin to horrified. So, she elaborated. "But you keep maiming yourself!"

"Heck no! It hurts like hell!"

"Then…why?" She was honestly confused. "You asked me that first time if I could reject memory loss. So…are you remembering something?"

He heaved a sigh of exasperation as he leaned back on the couch. "Yeah. Things from…when I was human." He figured he might as well tell her that much. She probably was curious about the extent of her powers, since she seemed rather clueless.

"Really?!" she exclaimed, genuinely intrigued. She wasn't aware she had the ability to do that! Truthfully, she couldn't consciously reject memory loss. She had no idea how. This was almost like a side affect…one that had never happened to anyone else that she had healed before. So, why was Grimmjow the only one? Was there something special about him?

She couldn't help wondering what it was that he remembered. Maybe he was a heavy metal rock star in life…or the ice cream man …blue jay maybe? His hair did seem kind of…feathery. But no, wait…he did say he was human. "What did you remember? What were you like?" She had to ask.

Grimmjow looked at her from the corner of his eyes. "That's none of your business."

"Oh…" she said, deflated. "But it must be something exciting, right? Since you keep trying to remember more."

He didn't respond to that. In actuality, it was more the opposite of what she was thinking. He saw something he didn't like…not to mention the fact that it was really cutting into his sleep. It pissed him off, so he wanted to get to the bottom of it. But the memory was still just coming back in disjointed bits and pieces, pissing him off even more. As to the things he was actually seeing, he wasn't sure what to make of it. Had he really known Ulquiorra pretty much all his life? And that girl. She seemed…

Orihime's sigh brought him out of his reverie. "Fine, if you don't want to tell me then let's go back to the previous topic. Instead of cutting off your arm, maybe you can just…cut off a finger instead?" She couldn't believe she was having this rather morbid discussion, making the suggestion as though she was merely suggesting that he trim his hair rather than shave his head.

"Hell no!" He gave her that look again, like she was saying the stupidest thing. Sure, lopping off a limb hurt like there was no tomorrow, but he was Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, damn it! A little pain wasn't anything he couldn't handle. What kind of sissy would he be to go cutting off a pinky instead, just to avoid some blood and pain?!

Seeing that he didn't like her idea, Orihime made another suggestion. "Then what about that huge scar right down your torso? I can heal that, and you won't have to cut anything." She leaned towards him, stretching an arm out to point to the scar.

He grabbed her wrist before her hand got too close, giving her a warning look. Then he grinned. "You ain't touchin' this one, princess. It's a reminder of another kind of debt that I owe a certain orange haired punk of a shinigami."

Orihime gasped and whispered, "Kurosaki-kun…" She had no idea they had fought, and the sexta Espada was obviously holding a grudge.

Grimmjow arched a brow slightly at her recognition but didn't think much of it, opting to change the subject instead. "Ya know, that was a lot of questions you just asked," he pointed out, her wrist still firmly locked in his hand. "I think you owe me something now." With his other hand, he pulled his zanpakutou out of its sheath, the grin still on his face.

"What?! But you didn't even answer half of them!" she protested.

"Yeah, I did," he replied, unperturbed. "You just didn't like my answers." He raised his blade.

"No, wait!" Orihime didn't really want to see…or be so close. She turned the other way and used her free hand to cover her eyes. She heard the slice and felt the grip of his hand on her wrist fall away.

Then there was silence.

A few seconds later, his dismembered arm landed on her lap, causing her to yelp. "Eek!!" The arrancar were so prone to violence and bloodshed, she really couldn't understand why Las Noches was so darn white! All the blood splatters just show up in stark contrast…like what was on her dress and couch at the moment.

"Fix it."

His voice was so surprisingly calm, almost tranquil, that it drew her attention. When she turned to look, his eyes were closed as he tried to keep the pain from showing on his features. Blood was dripping from his open wound.

She sighed. "You are so reckless," she said quietly. Scooting closer to him, she summoned the powers of her Souten Kishun.


She knocked.

"Come in."

Rukia stepped into her captain's office. "You wanted to speak with me, Ukitake taichou?"

The man often referred to as the nicest commanding officer to have ever walked the grounds of Seireitei looked up from his paperwork and flashed her that nicest commanding officer smile. "Ah, Kuchiki, I have an assignment for you."

"Yes, sir," Rukia said, standing at attention. "What is the assignment?"

"Take a trip to the living world and check up on our favorite shinigami substitute."

She blinked. "Ichigo?"

"Of course. Who else would it be?"

"But…I thought…"

"You do not wish to go?"

"No, of course not!" she said quickly. "But…"

He laughed politely. "He will be a great asset in the coming war after all. Just go make sure he's doing fine and report back to me."

"Yes, sir." Rukia bowed, her head still reeling. She couldn't believe her luck. She never thought that such an assignment would even come up! She had been so worried, and now she finally had a chance to go see Ichigo.

"Oh, and Kuchiki," Ukitake said, cutting into her thoughts. "When you return, I expect you to be…not so glum." He smiled, obviously teasing now.

She winced inwardly. Had she really been that obvious? Then she returned his smile. "Thank you, Ukitake taichou. You spoke up on my behalf, didn't you?"

He chuckled lightly. "I would love to take the credit, but…believe it or not…it was actually Byakuya's suggestion."

Rukia's eyes doubled in size. "Nii-sama?!!"

"Yes. He said it would be wise for us to keep an eye on Kurosaki Ichigo because, and I quote, 'He is a reckless imbecile who, if left to his own devices, will undoubtedly do something decidedly foolish.' He goes on to say that for whatever reason, Ichigo seems to listen to you and, therefore, you should be the one to take the assignment."

"I…I see…" Understandably, the adopted Kuchiki was in a bit of a stupor.

Ukitake laughed again, causing him to cough slightly. "Well then, Kuchiki. I believe you have a job to do."

She smiled more brightly this time. "Yes, sir."


"I'll bet two of my books on three minutes," Risa said, tossing the items on the ground.

"Can't you bet something a little more useful?" Kensei asked with a disapproving frown. "Who'd want your so-called 'books' anyway?"

Risa adjusted her glasses. "You borrow them enough, so I'm sure at least you do."

"I do not!" he hollered, red faced. "Stop making things up!"

"Mmm….Mashiro didn't finish her dessert, so…here," the green haired girl said as she put down her half eaten cookie. "I say ten minutes!"

Kensei slapped his palm to his forehead with a sigh. "Ok, fine. Anyone else?"

Love rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm…Why don't you try your luck, Rose?"

"I don't have anything to bet," the blond replied, seemingly uninterested.

"Bet your guitar," Love suggested helpfully.

Rose had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. "I am not going to bet my guitar."

"All right, then, I'll bet my manga," Love announced. "Latest volume. Fifteen minutes."

"And you are not going to bet my manga," Rose said sternly.

"Aw, come on, man," Love tried to persuade. "I'll win for sure!"

Ichigo stood and observed the five vizards who were sitting around in a circle, placing their bets. "Why?" he asked darkly with a twitching eyebrow, his hands balling up into fists. Then he exploded. "Why do you people only bet on how long I will last before I lose?! Why doesn't anyone ever bet on me winning?!"

Everyone just turned to look at him with various emotions on their faces, ranging from indifference to surprise.

"Because that's not a bet," Shinji said as he came and stood beside Ichigo, answering for the group. "That's what we call a donation."

Ichigo almost growled as he gave Shinji the worst death glare he could muster. "Bastards…all of you!" With a hmph he turned and walked away, mumbling curses under his breath. His hand reached over his shoulder for Zangetsu. "Hiyori! I'm definitely going to win this time!"

Standing in the distance waiting impatiently with folded arms, the youngest vizard hollered back. "It ain't bedtime yet, baldy! Save your dreams for tonight!"

When their blades finally crossed, everyone settled in to watch. Even though they enjoyed giving Ichigo a hard time, nobody ever doubted that he had an incredible amount of raw power within him. He just needed to learn how to properly harness it.

Shinji grinned as he observed. Deny it all you want, Ichigo, but you can't change the fact that you are what you are. You're one of us now…

Then he frowned as his senses faintly picked up on something. A newly familiar reiatsu. He sighed inwardly. It might give away our location if she hung around too long…

After taking a moment to mull over what he should do, Shinji used shunpo to transport himself over to Ichigo, snatched him by the back of his collar, and began to drag him away.

"What the heck?!" the orange haired boy exclaimed indignantly.

"Hey, where ya taking that baldy, baldy?!" Hiyori fumed.

"Be back in a minute," Shinji said, waving a casual arm as he ascended the stairs that led from their underground training room back up to the old abandoned warehouse, Ichigo in tow. "Hachi. Open the barrier up top."

"Of course," the big guy replied, immediately getting to work on that.

"Where the heck are we going?!" Ichigo demanded when they finally reached the surface. "The match isn't over, yet!"

Shinji chose to ignore that. "You have a visitor," was all he said as he unceremoniously booted the other boy out the door.

As Ichigo stumbled out into the open, he realized it was night. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was surprised to see who was standing there waiting for him. "Ru…Rukia… What are you doing here?"

"Idiot. What do you think?" she said. "To make sure you don't go off doing anything stupid on your own." She quirked a brow as she noticed the new accessory around his neck. "What's with the dog collar?"

"It's nothing!" he yelled in attempt to cover his embarrassment. Then he hung his head, becoming downcast. "I couldn't do it," he admitted quietly. "I promised Inoue that I would definitely protect her next time. I couldn't keep my promise."

After a drawn out pause, Rukia spoke. "Ichigo…"

When Ichigo looked up, instead of seeing Rukia's face, his sight was met with the bottom of her shoe. A split second later, so did his face as she kicked him and sent him hurtling away to land on his back.

Ichigo jumped to his feet and marched right back to her, severely pissed. "What the heck was that for?!"

"For being a super depressed melodramatic moron!" she replied, matching his temper.

"I wasn't being any of that! I was just telling the truth, you idiot!"

"You were being stupid!"

"Why you—" Her knuckles came down on his skull and he doubled over. "That hurts, damn it!" He was prepared to swear up a storm, but when he looked up again and saw that sad, almost pained look in her eyes, his anger dissipated.

"Stop thinking that way," she said. "It's not over, yet. Aren't you training so you can go bring her back?" She looked pointedly at the abandoned warehouse.

Ichigo followed her line of sight, then turned his head away to avoid her eyes. He didn't want to talk about his relationship with the vizards. "Ah."

"Then don't beat yourself up over it just yet," she reasoned. "Concentrate on getting stronger."

Ichigo thought about it for a moment then smiled faintly to himself. It was strange how Rukia's pound-yell-talk sessions always had a way of helping him clear up his mind and focus on what he needed to do. "Ah."

"And when you're ready, I'll be coming with you."

He blinked. "Huh? But I thought…Soul Society wouldn't…"

"Don't be stupid," she said sternly. "Inoue is my nakama, too. I won't abandon her, no matter what Soul Society decides."

Ichigo was still confused. "But…didn't you say you came to make sure I don't go off doing anything stupid?"

"'…on your own'", she repeated her words. "If you're going, I'm going. There's no way I'm letting you go to Hueco Mundo without me."

Ichigo looked away. Sure, he wanted to save Inoue, but…he wanted to protect Rukia as well…

Rukia grew worried when she saw his indecision. She took his hand in hers, a serious look in her eyes. "Ichigo…promise me you won't go without me."

They stared at each other for a drawn out moment. Then he tightened his grip on her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. "Ah."


(Genji – Age fifteen)

He was halfway delirious and wasn't able to feel much beyond excruciating pain. With a hand on his side, trying to stop the bleeding from a rather nasty sword wound, and an arm slung over Ukita's shoulder, Genji let the other boy help him to the futon. Stubbornly, however, he refused to lie down, choosing to remain sitting up instead.

Hurried footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway. Then the door slid open, revealing a frantic and breathless Akari. "Gen-chan!" She rushed to his side.

Even half dead, Genji found the strength to roll his eyes. "Quit…calling me that…"

Ignoring his complaint, she gently moved his hand away from his wound. Then she placed her own palm over the wound, causing him to hiss in pain. She closed her eyes and her hand began to give off a soft warm glow. Before long, his wound healed up as though it had never been pierced to begin with. With his life no longer in danger, Akari sighed in relief.

"That's the third time, Genji," came Ukita's quiet chiding. "Keep fighting like that, and your luck will run out soon enough."

Genji grumbled. "We won, didn't we? Besides, I've got Akari here, so what the hell does it matter?"

"That's only provided someone will be there to drag you back every time, and you do not bleed to death before getting back here," Ukita replied calmly.

Genji opened his mouth to retort, then simply huffed when he couldn't find the words.

Akari frowned with a small pout, holding Genji's hand in both of hers. "Stop being so reckless, Gen-chan." Before Genji had the chance to berate her again for the nickname, she gasped as she noticed the cut on Ukita's forearm. "Ukita! You're hurt, too!" She went over to him and examined his wound.

"It's fine, Hime," the stoic warrior assured.

"Stop calling me that, will you?" she frowned up at him.

From his spot on the futon, Genji snickered. "Heh. Look who's talking? You get what you give."

The princess turned her frown on him.

"What?" the newly revitalized warrior asked gruffly. "Hey, at least you weaned him off 'Hime-sama'. Maybe by the time he's sixty he'll—Ow!" A small rock hitting the side of his head cut his rambling short. He rubbed his temple and threw a glare at Ukita. Despite the fact that there were no outward signs that Ukita had done anything, Genji had been at the receiving end of these attacks enough times to know it was him. "Damn it! What kinda guy keeps a bunch o' rocks in his pockets all the time?!"

"The kind that has a use for them," Ukita replied without missing a beat, barely keeping his amusement in check.

Genji narrowed his eyes before turning away. "Tch! Bastard…"

Akari proceeded with healing Ukita's arm. When she was finished, she proceeded with…just standing there with her hands and eyes still on his arm.

Ukita watched her but said nothing, remaining still.

Genji watched the both of them until he finally got bored. "Ya know, I was the one who nearly died here," he drawled, "but you sure didn't keep touchin' me forever."

Akari jumped back with an embarrassed blush. "Eek! Gen-chan!" she said, stomping her foot, slightly frantic. "That's…I was just thinking!"

"Right, right. Sure you were," Genji said, sly grin firmly in place. "And I bet I know what you were thinking about, too."

The princess ran over to him with haste so she could cover his mouth before he said anything she didn't want to hear…which she was sure he was about to do.

"Stuff like— Ow!"

Another flying rock beat her to the task.

Genji glared.

Ukita smirked, ever so slightly…


Grimmjow sat up in his bed. You have GOT to be kidding me…

Akari's words returned to him. "Stop being so reckless, Gen-chan."

Then Orihime's. "You are so reckless."

He raked a hand through his hair with a humorless laugh. This is just friggin' hilarious…


A/N: Grimm cuts off his arm then tosses it onto Orihime's lap. Hope that humor wasn't too morbid. I thought it was funny. Haha! "Does your mask get in the way when you try to brush your teeth?" That's actually my burning question for Grimm. I just wonder sometimes…

Hmm…guess Ulquiorra isn't in this chapter at all. At least Ukita made a show, so I don't feel too bad. Heh… He'll be back next chapter.

Merry Christmas, people! I can't believe I'm updating on Christmas Eve…I have no life. If you're interested, here's my Ulqui/Hime/Grimm X-mas card type thing:

http :// murasaki-no-sora. deviantart .com/ art/ X-mas-Sandman-70686891 (take out the spaces)

You have to click the "Download" link to see the actual thing.

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!