"Good to see you're still working on the case," the Sexta said. He took a gulp of his beer and licked his lips while Ichigo watched his every action silently, his brown eyes flickering to the tongue before looking back to his eyes. That tongue was sinful; he'd experienced that before, and the memory of it was enough to make Ichigo's libido rise. He looked to his front and noticed the bartender approaching from his left.

"Hello again," Starrk greeted lazily. Ichigo didn't miss the look of suspicion in the bartender's eyes when they landed on the blue-haired man, but they went back to Ichigo quickly. "What would you like?"

"A coke," Ichigo requested. Starrk raised a brow slightly but nodded and went to get a can. He slid both the glass of ice and can of coke across the countertop surface to Ichigo and went back to his daughter at the other end of the counter. Ichigo noticed the girl was staring at his direction, but knew she was looking at Grimmjow.

"Ya don't drink? Not surprising," Ichigo heard the man say as he poured the contents of the can into the glass. "Though, I could tell from last time you drank too much for your first time."

"Don't talk to me like you know me," Ichigo interrupted aggressively. Too aggressive that he realized he was being defensive and making his nervousness more obvious. And that was the last thing he'd want to show to the man who had killed a number of people. Ichigo wanted to slap himself.

"Oh, I know you, Kurosaki," Grimmjow said. Ichigo could tell the man was staring at him now, the grin still in place. He didn't dare to look at him. The Sexta's stare was intense. The man was sitting a mere seat away from him, but it felt as if his very breath was in his ear, his eyes boring holes in the side of his head. Ichigo knew if he even glanced at him, he'd be lost in those eyes that were so fucking blue and hollow yet never failed to intrigue him so much. "You're just like me, and that's already a fucking compliment, kid."

"To be just like a murderer is a compliment?" Ichigo gritted out, still not looking at him. "I don't see any praise in being similar to a sick fuck who only preys and guts innocent victims."

"Nobody is innocent," Grimmjow said, sounding almost pensive.

"What, you're being some judge now?" Ichigo shot back. He didn't know why he was so snappy. He had planned to sound calm but everything that came out of his mouth ended up angry and defensive. Maybe it was because he was afraid of stooping to the man's level. Or maybe he was just scared of being so personal and human around a monster. The other one was bugging him, nodding and agreeing with everything the Sexta said. The feeling was strong, and Ichigo hated that he was slowly beginning to feel the same way.

"Of course not," Grimmjow replied, his devilish grin returning. "There's no such thing as innocence unless you're a baby who has yet to be able to think. But that's not why I kill. I kill for a more… primal reason, and I'm sure you know it very well." He was grinning, laughing at him, Ichigo was positive of that. He chose not to reply.

"I'm just following instinct. Human instinct. Humans are hunters by nature, Kurosaki. But some of us just are born to … have stronger instincts than others." Ichigo tried to ignore the fact that he knew the man was including him in those 'some'. "Not only are we hunters, but we're naturally destructive. Towards ourselves or others, it doesn't matter. I'm just helping along."

"Then why don't you just shoot them, stab them?" Ichigo found himself asking. "Why do all those ritualistic bullshit that makes the victim suffer?" He felt his voice betray his thoughts, cracking slightly as he spoke. He heard the blue-haired man laugh, a sound that was both noise and music to his ears.

"That – is personal," Grimmjow said. "But let's just say it adds more flavor to the hunt for me."

"How primitive," Ichigo muttered with distaste, though he felt a little interest at the very thought of the thrill.

"Hunting has been around since forever," Grimmjow said condescendingly. "And hunting human game is the most thrilling thing of all. Have you ever tried it? Hunting wild game? Human game is so different, so much fucking better."

"Shut up, don't talk about other people's lives like that," Ichigo warned, finally snapping to his senses. What was he doing? He could somehow apprehend this guy right now. But he didn't have his cuffs with him at the moment. All he had was his badge and a Swiss army knife he occasionally carried around when he didn't have his gun. He clutched his left pocket discreetly to reassure himself. It was still there. Good. He thought over how he could get this guy again. He had nothing to link him to, only a confession. They could work on that, but the man looked like he could take any sort of torture that could be used to extract information. Aside from that, he was mentally beating the shit out of himself, because a large of part didn't want to apprehend the man. What the hell?

"Ya need to stop denying, Detective," Grimmjow said, the grin diminishing into a knowing smirk. He had looked back to the front, allowing Ichigo to finally breathe properly.

"I'm denying nothing. I will arrest you. I will throw you in prison where you'll spend the rest of your life to rot in," Ichigo seethed. Anger was building up in him so much, he could feel goosebumps, which usually told him that it was excited. He could almost hear its giggle, but it was still hidden, just watching impatiently from wherever it was. It was uncanny, because what he felt from the other one was similar to what he felt from the blue-haired man. It was predatory, menacing, but it was almost disguised. They were both so similar, it was creepy.

"Sure you would," Grimmjow humored. He set his mug down and leaned a little to his left, closer to Ichigo, who tried not to show any weakness by moving away from him. "I've watched you Detective, and all I see is the hunger in your eyes whenever you look at everyone else. It's pathetic, seeing a hungry lion locking himself in a cage."

"If you don't like what you see then don't fucking look," Ichigo spat, gripping his glass tightly. He downed the coke in a second, thankful it wasn't alcohol. He needed to be clear headed for that night, especially with the Sexta there.

"You may be pathetic, but I'll admit that I do like looking at what I'm seeing," Grimmjow said smoothly, and Ichigo could practically hear him grinning as he said it. But it was what the man had said that surprised Ichigo enough for him to turn his head to look at him. Ichigo almost forgot to breathe. Almost as if he knew Ichigo's enchantment towards him, the Sexta smirked and said, "You're going to break the glass if you squeeze any tighter."

Ichigo immediately released his hold on his empty glass and stared at it, scowling. He had lost.

"You know, Kurosaki…" he heard the man say, trying to ignore how easily his name rolled off the man's lips. "The only real difference between us is that I follow my instincts, my true self. And you – well," there was humor in the Sexta's voice. "You're just a coward who's afraid of his own shadow."

Ichigo grit his teeth but felt truth in the man's words. He said nothing but listened as he heard movement from his right, and the clinking of coins. Grimmjow placed money on the countertop and got off the stool, heading for the exit. Ichigo quickly turned, watching his retreating back. He began to debate with himself on the choice he was about to make. The man was clearly beckoning him to follow him. It was an obvious trap, but his mind and body was already screaming at him: Follow him!

Ichigo slammed money on the table and went out the door.

The Sexta was gone.

Ichigo looked left and right, then saw a glimpse of blue disappearing into an alleyway. It was screaming trap, trap, trap. He was being led into the panther's den, but his feet ignored his commands and had Ichigo running after him. A few turns weaving through the network of narrow alleys and Ichigo found himself being pushed to the nearest wall again, just as he had been the first time. But this time he was aware, and had immediately flipped out his Swiss knife and pressed the blade against his attacker's neck.

Blue eyes stared gleefully into his and Ichigo felt a loss of breath again. He felt the cold metal of his blade against his own neck and felt himself almost shudder at the reminder of the pain it had inflicted on him. Grimmjow's other forearm pressed across his chest, his thigh having found a place in between Ichigo's legs, making the detective immobile and trying hard not to get aroused.

Fuck, fuck, why was he so sick around this psycho?

"Show me like you did last time," Grimmjow growled. "Show me all of it." Ichigo suddenly felt something brush against his back, fingertips on the scar and Ichigo realized the man's arm on his chest had moved without him noticing. He shuddered at the sensation of it, but fought not to make a sound. The Sexta's smirk spread into a grin, his sharp white teeth gleaming against the dim light and looking too sharp to be human. The man was taunting him.

This time Ichigo was ready. He'd fight him by himself, his own strength. But when the Sexta moved, he expected the man to hit him, not pull away. Finding himself strangely disappointed, Ichigo watched as the man stepped back, grinning, before he turned his back to him and walked on.

What the hell? Nevertheless, Ichigo followed after him briskly.

It was odd, that even though Ichigo had his eyes on him all the while, the Sexta moved fast and silent, like the panther he was. Every time Ichigo thought he caught up with him, the man reappeared at another corner a few meters from him, leading him somewhere Ichigo didn't know. He walked through the alleys, passing by numerous dumpsters, lamp posts, walls and gates, but the blue-haired man didn't seem like he would stop soon. Curiosity overwhelmed him, and Ichigo decided to just keep following and see what was it the man was leading him to.

Hopefully, it wasn't his death; it was too soon for the man to kill him, but Ichigo couldn't be too sure either.

It felt like a twenty minute walk before they arrived at their destination, wherever it was. Ichigo never knew such a place existed in Karakura. They were so far away from roads, lights, or people, Ichigo only saw brick walls. The only main source of light Ichigo could see was the moonlight from the full moon that hovered in the night sky alone without a trace of clouds.

There were hardly any windows on the buildings, just endless walls. It felt like he had been thrown into a maze all of a sudden. When Grimmjow had disappeared in front of him,Ichigo realized he had went into an abandoned shelter, tucked away in the belly of the back alleys. It was more like a shack, with a zinc plate roof haphazardly placed on rusted metal poles. It looked big enough for three people, but when Ichigo shoved back the ragged torn cloth that was made as a door, the blue-haired man wasn't in sight. Instead, a fully-clothed male body was on the ground, lying on his stomach in a pool of blood.

"What the…" Ichigo almost yelled in shock, but a hand clasped over his throat, almost crushing his windpipe and his body was wrapped tightly by a strong arm. The detective knew it was the Sexta. He had him trapped again.

"No need to act so surprised," Grimmjow growled into his ear. Ichigo repressed a groan, though he was fighting hard to breathe with the man's hand gripping his throat. Almost as if reading his thoughts, Grimmjow let go but grabbed his chin instead and forced him to look at the body, and Ichigo realized the body was still breathing. "Yes, he's still alive."

Why didn't kill him? How long had this man been left that way? Ichigo asked himself. Why did he lead me here…? He heard the other laugh, and realized immediately. He wants us to kill this guy.

"That's right, I want you to kill him," Grimmjow said. Why? Ichigo asked again. Was it just him or did this man know his every thought? Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a bad dream. "No use denying, Kurosaki, I'm giving you the chance you've been waiting for."

"Chance at what? To be a murderer like you? Hell fucking no," Ichigo gritted out, snapping his eyes open to glare at the man. Shut up, Ichigo. This is my time now, the other one said, its voice stronger than Ichigo had ever heard before. No!

"You are a killer, Kurosaki, you know you are."

We killed mom.

No! I didn't! It was the mugger!

But we didn't do anything to save or protect her. You wanted her dead.

No!

You wanted to kill.

No, no, no!

You loved the smell of blood. You don't remember but you even played with it. Toyed with the knife and the blood.

NO!

"Hey," Grimmjow growled in his ear. Ichigo snapped back to reality, noticing that he was breathing heavily. The Sexta was studying him with a scowl - a curious expression. Ichigo stared at him, wide eyed, his face slick with sweat and still trapped in the man's grasp. He grabbed one of Ichigo's hands and slipped it into the detective's pocket, where he brought the Swiss knife out and almost deliberately brushing against his inner thigh and groin. Fuck… He felt the man grin as he brought the knife out, the blade glistening in what little light there was from the night sky. "You sharpened it too. Meant to cut and slice cleanly - not really needed for self-defense, does it? Do you need any more evidence of your need to kill?"

"I didn't," Ichigo rasped out. Or did he? He didn't know, he really didn't. Ichigo shut his eyes again, as if trying to shut everything out. He opened his eyes again and looked around, before landing on the body on the floor again. "But I wanted to try."

Grimmjow flashed him a predatory grin and a look that was close to a leer. "He's all yours," the Sexta said, nudging him towards the body. The man was unconscious, but still breathing.

"How long did you leave him…?" The Sexta just gave him a smirk, and Ichigo didn't want to know the answer. But he knew the man was dying. He'd lost too much blood. Grimmjow had released him from his grip, and Ichigo felt his body move on its own towards the body. The Swiss knife in his hand felt heavier for some reason, but Ichigo moved on.

He let the body lie on the back, and the person stirred slightly, but knew he could do no more than that. He was bleeding from multiple angry stab wounds in his stomach. The victim was young, probably his age, and didn't look too bad either, though he had been badly bruised from the usual fist fight that came before the armed attack. The dying man looked like he would have a promising future ahead of him, and Ichigo was beginning to feel fear and doubt again. He had no right to end the man's life.

But he's going to die anyway. Look, he's suffering. End it for him.

The victim's eyes opened slightly and they made eye contact for a brief moment. The man's eyes pleaded with him, as if saying 'Just end it for me already'. Ichigo shuddered, and consciously gripped his knife tighter. Ichigo knew the Sexta was still watching him, though he could feel no presence behind him where the man was supposed to be.

Kill him, aibou…

The victim lost consciousness again and Ichigo pressed the blade of his knife against the man's throat. He could hear his own ragged breathing, his sweat sliding down along his face and dripping off his chin. Time seemed to stand still, and then –

Ichigo flipped the victim back on his stomach and yanked his head up. Without hesitation, he sliced the neck, almost slowly and carefully and watched with wide, golden eyes, at the blood that poured out and accompanied by the strangled gurgle the victim made.

"Good to see ya," Ichigo heard the other man say. Ichigo whirled around, but the man wasn't there. The Sexta had gone. The detective looked back at the body, now no longer breathing. He looked at his hands. They were bloody. Did... did he just do it?

'No, no, no… This can't be happening…' Ichigo thought. He didn't want to face it anymore, and so his world faded to black.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Ichigo are you alright?" Rukia asked when Ichigo sat at his desk. Since he was transferred he was sitting at another area, and had just returned from his leave.

"Yeah I'm okay, what's up?"

"I tried to contact you for the past two days about what we found, but I couldn't reach you. I called your phone, even went to your place, but you didn't answer," Rukia told him, her expression set in a frown of worry.

"Really? I should be home… maybe I didn't hear you?" Ichigo replied. He was feeling tired and sleepy again, like he had before. Rukia shook her head but sat down beside him.

"Anyway, it's about that Nikolai Grimshaw. I checked out the database, but there's nothing," Rukia said. "I checked out yellow pages and all that too, but apparently there's no such person registered as Nikolai Grimshaw."

"So it's just an alias?"

"I guess so." Ichigo looked thoughtful.

"So this Grimshaw might be Grimmjow's alias."

"Perhaps, but we can't say for sure."

"I kinda told Urahara-san Grimmjow's name, so maybe I can ask him later?"

"Oh, why didn't you say so earlier? I'm sure he'd be able to get something."

"I hope so…"

"Ichigo, Rukia," someone interrupted. It was Renji. "You know about the latest victim right?" Rukia nodded but Ichigo just looked at him blankly.

"You mean the one found in the alley that was in the news?" Ichigo asked.

"Yeah, he was found yesterday. I wanted to talk to you about that too," Rukia added as Renji joined them by pulling in another chair for himself.

"Another victim of the Sexta,right? Though he still had his stomach intact."

"Yeah, but…" Renji scratched the back of his head. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "We're not really sure it's the Sexta. The manner of killing is similar, but it's just different, somehow. First thing is because the stomach's intact, second's the way the throat is slit."

"What do you mean?"

"From Kurotsuchi and Kensei-san, they said all the wounds were made by the same weapon, the combat knife," Renji said. "All the wounds, except for the throat."

"They're not sure what weapon was used to cut the throat, but the way the flesh was cut was different from how the Sexta used to," Rukia told him, her eyes looking at Ichigo in a strange way. "I heard that there's a possibility that the Sexta might have had a partner for this one."

"A partner…?" Ichigo repeated. He didn't know why he felt so giddy. For some reason he didn't remember the days of his leave, but he remembered the fleeting scent of alcohol, blood and the glinting of a knife. Was he missing something? He couldn't remember, but he felt like he did something bad.

"Are you okay, Ichigo? You look pale…" Renji looked at the orange haired detective uncomfortably. He glanced at Rukia and lowered his voice even softer. "Did you... do something without knowing?"

Ichigo shook his head and turned to his computer mumbling, "I don't know…"

Both Rukia and Renji looked at each other. They really hoped that their friend didn't do anything, but there was something about him that made them suspect that he did, and they hoped that the other police didn't feel the same way as they did. They left him alone and went back to their work.

Ichigo did his work silently, looking dazed and out of it throughout the day.

After working hours, Urahara called Ichigo to his office. Ichigo went to his office, wondering what was there to discuss.

"Hello, Kurosaki-san," the captain greeted. For once he was clean-shaven, and Ichigo couldn't help but smile in amusement. "How was your leave?"

"It was okay I guess. Cleaned up the house and did a lot of thinking."

"Did you? That's good then," Urahara said, nodding. "What did you think about?"

"Just stuff." Urahara nodded again.

"Well Kurosaki-san, did Kuchiki-san and Abarai-san tell you that you were out of contact in your last two days of leave?" Ichigo began to fidget.

"Yeah they did."

"May I ask where were you? You really had me worried when Kuchiki-san told me she couldn't reach you, Ichigo," Urahara was using his first name again.

"I don't know, I can't remember," Ichigo answered.

"People said they saw you hanging out at a bar," Urahara said. "But you weren't drinking. You were talking to someone."

"I can't remember…"

"Did you talk to this 'Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez' you mentioned to me before?"

"No, I didn't," Ichigo frowned. "I wanted you to help me look for him. Did you?"

"I tried, but nothing," Urahara said. Ichigo had a feeling he wasn't being truthful. There was something in the man's eyes that told him he was hiding something, but he didn't know what. "Is it supposed to be the Sexta's name?"

"I really don't know," Ichigo said, frowning deeply. Urahara sighed.

"Well, I just wanted to know if you're alright. I'm afraid, things might not be good for you Kurosaki-san," the captain said. "Some people have heard that you are seeing a psychiatrist, and the incident with Rukia has leaked out somehow. They are saying nasty things, and some are even suspecting you as the Sexta."

"What? What the hell! How did I end up being that?" Ichigo snapped.

"The incident where you found the victim was the one that made you the closest to being the suspect. And your… strangeness has fueled their feelings towards you. Your leave has also become a base for rumors." Ichigo's hand flew to his head, massaging his scalp and trying to will his headache away. Why was this happening?

"What am I supposed to do now?" Urahara gave him a sympathetic look.

"I want you to go back home straight away after work, but keep seeing Aizen for your sessions," Urahara told him. "And I want you to stop your own investigation, Ichigo. This time I'm afraid it's best you stay away from knowing too much of this case."

Ichigo inhaled deeply. "Yeah… yeah, I'll try."

Urahara gave him a tired smile. "Please take care of yourself, Kurosaki-san…"

"I will," Ichigo said and left the room.

Not a minute later another person entered. He was rather tall, with long raven hair that went past his shoulders. He had a stern haughty look on his handsome, almost beautiful, features and wore a pale grey coat over his white shirt. It was another captain from another precinct, and also the brother of Kuchiki Rukia.

"Captain Kuchiki Byakuya, what brings you here?" Urahara tried to look surprised at the man's presence in his office. He had expected an outsider to his precinct to come forward for a while now.

"I've been sent here to investigate one of your men, Urahara," Kuchiki Byakuya said.

"I'm sorry?" Urahara asked, trying to keep up his act of surprise. But he guessed, he did feel some surprise. It was a little too soon. The other captain did not look amused at his feigning ignorance.

"I know that you know more about this, Urahara Kisuke. There's been suspicion that Detective Kurosaki Ichigo may be involved in more ways than one in the Sexta case."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx End of chapter 10 xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Oh dear, trouble's brewing. Sorry for the delay, but I hope the content for the chapter made up for it.
Thank you - seriously, THANK YOU to you all. I've never felt so successful writing a fanfiction until Killer Instinct. I hope things stay the way they are, haha. Thank you so much!