Grimmjow didn't remember much between the game and waking up in the hospital room, just the high. He'd felt invincible, untouchable, like the world was in his hands. Then he was coming to on the floor, unsure where he was, who he was with or what happened.

Through the panic turning his heartbeat to a scream, he could recall a quiet, deep voice in his ear that brought back memories of his boyhood and his teenage years. He felt a small hand on his shoulder, evoking the memories of a darkened movie theater, their hands intertwined on the arm of the seat.

His panic calmed until he was separated from that familiar touch and a rush of fear swept over him. Then he remembered circular light fixtures flying past over his head, the feeling of speeding along as frantic voices surrounded him. Then he woke up in an unfamiliar place alone. Outside his window, the sun was rising and he wondered how long he'd slept.

The doors opened and he turned to see a petite nurse hurry in. "Good morning, Mr. Jaegerjaquez." She asked him what he wanted to eat but Grimmjow wasn't hungry.

"What happened to me?" His voice was dry and gruff and she handed him some water.

"We're still waiting for the results of your blood test. The doctor will see you in a few moments." She swept from the room and Grimmjow lay back against his pillows.

After what felt like a year, the doctor hurried in and Grimmjow awaited his news, his stomach twisting about. "You had a grand mal seizure during your game. The results of your blood test are in and we found cocaine and heroin in your system. We contacted your mother and she told us you have no history of epilepsy, is this true?" Grimmjow nodded. He wondered how his mother had reacted.

"Then we believe the seizure was the result of the drug combination. You went into cardiac arrest in the ambulance but paramedics revived you."

Grimmjow's skin felt cold and clammy. He'd almost killed himself and he'd let the whole world know how far gone he was. His breathing turned shallow and he slumped over, his head in his hands as wave after wave of horror washed over him.

He couldn't believe he'd let this happen. Everyone knew about his drug use; his team, his coach, his aunt, his mother, his fans. "Fuck…" He dug his nails into his scalp. He thought he'd had it under control. He was kidding himself. He hadn't been in control of his life since he was ten years old.

"Mr. Jaegerjaquez, for your health's sake you need to get help. I strongly recommend inpatient treatment and group counseling. I'm going to give you the contact information of a rehabilitation facility I think can help you. Once you're discharged, I'd like you to contact them."

"I can't. I don't live here. I'll be going back to Japan in a few days."

"Where in Japan do you live?"

Grimmjow gave him the location of his neighborhood and the doctor said, "Then I'll find a clinic within that area code for you to visit when you return."

Grimmjow didn't know what to say. He didn't want to be to rehab; he'd always dismissed the idea because he thought he hadn't needed it. He wasn't an addict, he told himself. He could stop whenever he wanted. It was just for fun. It wasn't hurting anyone; he had no one in his life to hurt but himself and it didn't matter because he didn't care about himself.

In the mirror by the bathroom, Grimmjow could see a skeleton lying in his bed. He looked frail, weak, pathetic. His stomach churned over. He'd never associated those words with himself but looking at his body and how he'd deteriorated, Grimmjow couldn't think of any other words to describe himself.

He'd almost killed himself and it was only now that he'd brought himself so close to the edge that he realized he was scared to jump. His life, pitiful and empty as it was, driven by drugs, still had value to him. He didn't know how or why or if he should laugh at himself for feeling this way.

He wanted to be clean; even if he was scared he couldn't do it. He'd wanted to quit for months now and though he was ashamed he'd had to hit rock bottom to realize the depths of his addiction and misery, he finally had the motivation he needed. He accepted the doctor's card, detailing the name and location of a clinic in downtown Tokyo near his home.

The doctor prescribed him anti-convulsions to prevent more seizures as a result of drug withdrawals. He wasn't allowed to take them without a nurse's permission. Grimmjow's stomach churned over. The withdrawals would be a bitch. He didn't know how he'd get through them.

The doctor left him alone to rest and Grimmjow turned on the television and caught up on last night's game. The sports channels discussed Japan's big win against China, showing the moment Kurosaki headed the ball out of play before China could make a shot at the goal.

As they finished their discussion on the game, the topic changed to Grimmjow's seizure during the game. Grimmjow hardly heard the sport's anchor's commentary. He couldn't look away from the screen as he watched his body spasm. He felt cold all over and nauseous; he looked like a corpse.

Kurosaki knelt above him with Ulquiorra beside him, his hand on Grimmjow's shoulder. Grimmjow felt sick with shame to imagine how either of them thought of him. Before their eyes, he'd shown them how weak he was despite how hard he'd tried to prove them wrong.

Grimmjow's door opened and his nurse stuck her pretty face in through the door. "Mr. Jaegerjaquez, you have visitors."
"Oh goody…" Grimmjow sat up with a sigh. He wasn't ready to face his team or any fans who'd come to visit him.

Kenpachi entered the room and the chair wheezed as he collapsed into it. He had a pink balloon attached to his finger. It's a girl, the balloon proclaimed. Grimmjow snorted. "Real funny."

Kenpachi tied the balloon to the arm of his chair and said, "That's gonna be there until you leave. Hope you like it." He went quiet, looking down at his knees. "So…the doctor's telling me you overdosed on something called speedball. Cocaine and heroin…" Kenpachi scrubbed his hand across his stubble and shook his head. Grimmjow looked away and up at the television screen. He hadn't wanted to make Kenpachi look so disappointed.

"I don't have to say it, do I?" Kenpachi said, fixing dark eyes on him.

"Spare me."

"That was fucking stupid, Jaegerjaquez. Do you know how many people have died from that shit?"

Grimmjow looked down at his blankets, unable to meet his coach's gaze.

"I can't feel guilty about this. People are asking me why I didn't know, trying to blame me. I gave you the chance to talk to me; I tried to let you know I had your back, Jaegerjaquez. I had other people who needed my attention, too."

"It wasn't your fault."

"In some ways it is, but I did what I could. Now you have to do the rest. You're out of the games until I see some weight on your bones and I know you've got your life in order. Understand?"

Grimmjow thought that was more than he deserved. Kenpachi said, "Now is there anything I can do?"

"No."

"Did the doctor tell you when you're getting out of here?"

"A day or two."

"I'll bring you food, we've gotta fatten you up. Jaegerjaquez, has this been going on a long time?

"Yeah. I think I've played every game of my career high."

Kenpachi shook his head. "Shit…you know the press is gonna want to know how soon I can have you back. I'm going to have to tell them something, Jaegerjaquez, you know that."

"Go ahead." The words fell heavy off his tongue but what was the point in hiding it? His fans deserved the truth and his teammates' opinions of him couldn't get any lower. He had nothing to lose, not any more.

"I'll keep that detail to myself, but I'm going to have to tell them the truth and you're gonna have to promise me that if you come back, you're done with that shit. I have to run. You played well last night."

Kenpachi left the room and Grimmjow's phone buzzed on the table. He had over a hundred Facebook notifications and two missed calls from his mother, and his aunt Nelliel had texted him twice and tried to call him. He ignored his mother's voice messages. He wasn't ready to hear her voice after so many years of silence between them. She was the last person he'd expected to reach out to him.

His Facebook was full of messages of support from his fans, wishing him well and hoping he recovered quickly. His heart clenched in his chest. He felt ashamed of himself for airing his dirty laundry in front of all of them.

Grimmjow posted a short message to his Facebook wall; Alive. Feel like shit but I'm gonna get through this. I'm out of the games until I'm clean but I'll watch every one of them. I'll see you guys back on the pitch in a few months.

He wasn't sure if he could kick his addiction in a few months or if he would be there for a year but he was sure of one thing; he was going to be clean no matter how long it took. He was done being a slave to cocaine.

Grimmjow didn't want to call his aunt and hear her disappointed voice or her sobs but he did it anyway.

"I don't understand," Nelliel's voice wept, "I thought you were clean. Why didn't you talk to me? I would have helped you."

"I don't know."

"Grimmjow, you have to get help. You are worth it. You deserve to be happy. Please get help."

"I will." She went on a few minutes more and Grimmjow was silent as she poured out her feelings, telling him how inadequate she felt, wishing she'd been there for him. He wanted to throw himself out the window for making her feel this way. She'd done more for him than she could ever realize.

Just as he hung up, wondering if he ought to throw himself out the window to his death, his phone vibrated in his hand.

Grimmjow, it's your mother
Long time no see, I know. I'm so sorry.
I watched your game last night. I'm so proud of you.
I've tried calling you twice but you didn't pick up and I don't blame you. Just know I'm thinking of you and worrying about you and I would like to visit and catch up.
Please let me know soon.

Grimmjow didn't know what to say or do. Maybe it was his brush with cocaine scented death, but he wanted to see her. He wanted to know if she was living the life she'd always wanted. Another part of him remembered how angry and hurt he'd been after his mother left. She'd promised they'd run away from his father together yet she'd abandoned him.

Now all of a sudden you're missing me? Now you care? Fuck off, he thought and he wanted to tell her to stay the hell away. Fingers poised above his virtual keyboard, he hesitated and realized he couldn't tell her no. Conflicted, he shoved his phone into his drawer and rolled over.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through his blinds and he closed his eyes and drifted into sleep. When he awoke his stomach was rumbling and the sun was setting outside. His nurse gave him his pills. They were his favorite kind; bitter tasting and large enough that they hurt his throat going down.

"Can I get you some dinner, or would you like to have your snack first?"

"Huh?" She picked up a paper bag Grimmjow hadn't seen. It was sitting on his bedside table just out of sight behind his lamp. Had Kenpachi left that there for him? Grimmjow opened the bag and stared in astonishment at the croissant inside. He took a bite and sweet almond paste graced his tongue. Now he really did want to call his mother. He hadn't had an almond croissant in so long and he was remembering her.

"Hey, who gave me this?" he called after the nurse.

"He didn't say who he was but he wanted to make sure you got it. He told me to tell you he hopes you recover."

Grimmjow could think of a few people who knew of his love for almond croissants. He liked to snap pictures every time he got an almond croissant and share them with his fans, so his mysterious gift giver could have been any number of them.

The other person would be Ulquiorra but Grimmjow dismissed the thought. Maybe in the past Ulquiorra would have done something like this for him, but those times were long gone. Ulquiorra had no reason to send him food, then again he'd also had no reason to stay by his side and calm him down when he'd had his fit.

Grimmjow didn't know what to think so he focused on finishing off his croissant. It didn't matter who had done it or why he decided, though not wholeheartedly. In any case, memories of happier times swirled in his head and brought him peace as he gazed out the window at Beijing's skyline.