Chapter Ten: Reunite and Ignite
Ichigo did as he said. After celebrating a Bears victory with his brother, he told the white haired man that he would leave for Japan on the week of Rukia's birthday. Shiro was overjoyed that his brother was going to see Rukia, which meant that Ichigo was improving in the social department. Then, Ichigo told his father that he was leaving and wanted a week off from the clinic. Isshin didn't put up a fuss; he thought that a different environment would benefit his son. Of course, the orange haired man had to put up with hugs and kisses at the airport.
Despite the oddity of being publicly loved by his father at the airport, Ichigo embraced the love with open arms. Familial support was definitely Ichigo's greatest backbone at the time, so showing appreciation wasn't so bad. In fact, Ichigo hugged his father back much more painfully, making the farewell scene heartwarming to other passengers.
After enduring the long plane ride full of nothing but the sound of the engines and the annoying attendant's voice, Ichigo was breathing the Karakura air once more. He deeply inhaled the air and exhaled it in a sigh of both recognition and relief. He rubbed the back of his neck and stretched his muscles after gathering his things to wait.
Brown eyes looked out of the large windows that stretched over the walls and admired the city. He couldn't help but imagine himself arriving and leaving like he did two years prior. Ichigo's eyes followed the ghost footprints from the front, swiveling doors to the familiar line heading to America. Imagining his ghost brought a well known clench to his chest, so he placed his hand over his heart to try to soothe the ache.
Ichigo took another breath and looked away from the glossy, gray floor and ghost footprints to focus on spotting Rukia. Just as he looked toward the far right, he saw a billboard with a picture of a car. The sign read, "Pantera cars. Only drive the best." There was a slash of claw marks under the words.
The man had to blink when Renji's face flashed before his eyes. He thought, Those marks look like the bruise I saw two years ago. He squinted, then he shook his head. The therapist said he had to focus on the future and his ability to get well. Dwelling in the past was not going to help him. He needed to socialize.
But that's so hard to do, he thought again. Ichigo was always with Renji when the other was still alive, and he didn't need to socialize with much people because Renji kept him company when Rukia or his family wasn't around. Now that everything was different, Ichigo realized just how out of place he was.
He looked down at his white Jordans and shifted his feet awkwardly. The weight of his backpack didn't compare to the weight of his heart, which was pulling him down. The pain of the past was too much for his still tender heart, and the idea of overcoming the past was much more heavy. Two years, and he still felt the pull on the tender cords of his heart.
He really didn't want to forget Renji; he thought that forgetting the past meant to erase every memory he ever had. Ichigo didn't want that. He wouldn't do that. He never told anyone what he thought about forgetting his past. Ichigo felt that the therapist and his family didn't need to know. He had a right most of his personal thoughts, right? So why share them with others who didn't have as much of a right to his personal thoughts.
Ichigo sighed and traced the edges of jeans with his eyes. His fingers twiddled with the black backpack strap, and his abdominal muscles rippled anxiously under his red striped shirt.
I won't forget you, he thought.
"Ichigo?" came a soft voice.
The orange haired man looked up and gasped at the beautiful best friend he hadn't seen in a while. Rukia was professionally dressed in a gray suit and black shoes. Her hair was tied up in a bun, and her make up was only lip gloss.
"Rukia?" asked Ichigo as he stepped forward. His legs left the heavy suitcase at his side and carried him toward Rukia. "Is that really you?" he gasped. He wrapped his arms around the small woman and squeezed her with all of his might.
"It's nice to see you, too, Ichigo," choked Rukia in Ichigo's hold. She was plopped back onto the ground, and she inhaled a huge amount of air. The woman didn't make a move to frown or scold Ichigo, for she missed him just as much as he missed her. She sighed happily and smoothed her hair backwards.
Ichigo circled around Rukia and commented, "You look great. What job are you taking that requires you to dress so fancy?"
The small woman chuckled and answered, "I'm managing the financial branch of the family company. My brother thought that I would make great decisions to improve our spending and saving." She smoothed her jacket and looked straight at Ichigo.
When Rukia walked into the airport, she didn't miss the solemn look on Ichigo's face. He looked like he was concentrating too hard, and she felt that he wasn't feeling up to par as he did during their phone call. She saw the pain and thought that he was still thinking of the past and Renji.
"Are you okay, Ichigo?" asked Rukia. She folded her hands in front of her abdomen.
Ichigo tilted his head, then his eyes widened. "Rukia," he started. "I'm feeling fine. Why would ask something like that?" He gulped, for he knew that Rukia caught him sulking.
"Don't act like I didn't see you looking at the ground all sad," replied Rukia. She crossed her arms. Her eyes darted around and squinted at the large amount of people walking about. Their business was no one else's, so she wouldn't carry out the talk in public. "We'll continue this conversation in the car. Grab your bags and follow me," commanded she.
Rukia waited as Ichigo sighed and picked up his bags. She turned and walked out to the long black limo. The door and trunk were opened, then Ichigo and Rukia seated themselves as the driver loaded Ichigo's belongings.
"Well," pushed Rukia as she crossed her arms and crossed her legs. She was sitting across from the orange haired man, who sat back in his seat.
Ichigo's eyes dropped from Rukia's gaze. He didn't want to tell her that he refused to let go of Renji. The man gave him some of the best years of his life, so why should he forget? He bit his bottom lip when Rukia pestered him again for an answer. Brown eyes lifted as pink lips parted to speak.
She's my best friend. I can trust her, he thought. What would she say, though? I don't want her to look at me like I'm still some sick puppy that can't let go of his love. If she looked at me like that, I think my emotions might just snap... Uh! Am I so fragile?
With a lick of his lips, Ichigo finally answered, "I was thinking of Renji." He looked up fully and continued, "I thought of him because I saw a sign that had claw marks. The same type of claw marks that stained Renji's face in the form of a bruise." His head dropped back as he finished, "And I realized that I can't let him go. I still feel sad about what happened, and I feel that I'm sort of alone without him. After two years, Rukia, I still feel attached to the dead."
Rukia's eyes softened, and her pursed lips bloomed. She blinked when the car started and drove off from the airport. "Ichigo," she called out softly. When the other looked at her from his fragile position, Rukia said, "We all miss him: his friends, family, and I miss him. He was a brother to me, and I cared for him as such. Even though his passing was hard, Ichigo, we all still have to live on. It's not fair, but it's true.
"Don't recall his death, for that was only a one time event. Remember the great things. Remember his smile, his humorous jokes, his sweet nature, and his love for you. Remember all the fun times you had together.
"Remembering the great times isn't still being clingy to Renji; you're just keeping him in your memories. And, you don't have to let him go, Ichigo." She touched his knee and squeezed it with a smile on her face. She finished, "Keep him in your heart and your memory. That way he won't fade from you, and you can still move on knowing that he served his country and loved you with his all. Keep him, but don't cut yourself off from everyone else. Become stronger."
Rukia sat back and rested her hands on her lap. She smiled softly at Ichigo, waiting for him to respond.
Ichigo brought his head down from its perch and gulped. His eyes watered. Rukia, you should be a therapist. If that's all I needed to hear and all I needed for someone to say, then why didn't I hear it sooner. You make so much sense, and I can't help but want to hug you for it. A tear rolled down as he sniffled, but a smile graced his features.
"Rukia," he hiccuped with a brighter smile. "Why haven't I heard something like that in two years?" He slipped from his leather seat and kneeled at Rukia's feet. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her chest. "God, I wish someone told me that a long time ago," he said. He felt his hair get combed by small fingers.
As Ichigo cried brighter tears, Rukia continued to comb his hair and smile at Ichigo. Gosh, Ichigo. If I had known you needed to hear me say that, I would have said something earlier, thought Rukia. She hummed as she untangled the tousled spiky hair and smiled as Ichigo's cries died down. Her heart beat warmly when Ichigo started to hum along with her.
After ten minutes of peaceful silence, a window toward the front opened, and the driver called out, "We have arrived to the Kuchiki residence." The car stopped.
Ichigo sniffled and sat back on his calves. He looked up and said, "Thanks, Rukia. What would I do without you?" The woman shrugged, so he just smiled. He got to his feet and made his way out of the car first. When his Jordan made contact with white pavement, Ichigo looked up and gaped.
The residence was a small mansion. The entire Roman columned home was white with a black roof. Roses grew up the columns in wild, thorned vines, and bushes lined the side of the home. The doors were black with a Japanese engravings and held halves of a Japanese dragon.
"Welcome home," said the driver to Rukia and Ichigo.
After unloading Ichigo's things and settling him in the guest room, Ichigo was, once again, mesmerized. He stared at the fluffy white blankets and pillow after looking at the vintage styled armoire. His sparkled eyes traveled to Rukia.
"This is awesome," he said. He looked back to the room. His Jordans skidded happily across the polished wood as he ran and jumped on his bed.
Rukia rolled her eyes and announced, "I'll let you get used to your room." She chuckled when Ichigo rolled around on the bed. "Then, you gotta get ready," she finished. She turned and made her way to the door.
Ichigo popped in a sitting position and asked, "Ready for what?"
Rukia looked over her shoulder and answered, "I'm having a birthday party today, so tomorrow on my actual birthday, we can hit the town hard. Before the party, we're gonna shop like crazy 'cause we need some girl time to ourselves." She smirked and commanded, "Dress nice, too. I don't want to drag you back here to pick out an outfit." She left.
The orange haired man rolled his eyes and scoffed at the idea of dressing lamely. He hopped off the bed, bent over his black suitcase, and unzipped the zipper. He lifted the flap and peered into his pile of folded clothing. His blank expression soured. His clothes made absolutely no sense.
He slapped his forehead and mentally complained, Rukia's gonna have a field day with me.
As Ichigo was dressing to get ready for shopping, Grimmjow was riding in his personally made Pantera brand car. He bought the car, of course, but he had it made to fit him.
He positioned the rear view mirror to look over the blue leather seats. He turned the silver knob on the radio, and R&B music blasted from the speakers lining the doors. The gleaming blue hood of his car made the lights from the Karakura buildings shimmer brighter.
Blue hair bounced as the wind soared through the strands and made the strands wave about. Ocean eyes peered over the black shades that concealed their watery gaze. The blurring people and the loud noises annoyed him.
Grimmjow wouldn't have been so annoyed if he hadn't have felt the regular guilt burrow its way into his system. His gut twisted, and the scenes of his encounter with Renji replayed in his mind. The worst part was that he let the images replay in his mind, for he felt that the guilt was his rightful punishment. To him, he deserved to feel the daily headaches and heart wrenching emotions, even if he did pray for forgiveness.
Rough fingers combed through soft hair as Grimmjow thought, Maybe if I hadn't have hit him, I wouldn't have lost Ichigo.
When Ichigo left, Grimmjow tried calling him on the number he was contacted on, but the number always went to voicemail. From that day Ichigo left, the blue haired man continued to call on the same number at least three times a day. He called religiously for a month until the voicemail said that the number was no longer in service. He tried a few more times, but there was nothing. Grimmjow realized that he lost Ichigo for good, and he would feel the painful guilt and punishments for two years.
Grimmjow stepped on the brakes to halt his car at a red light. He sighed and laid his head on the headrest. I pray to you, God, and I have not felt one morsel of forgiveness. I am tortured daily by the never ending guilt, and I feel as if you have no love for me. Don't you love me? Huh, God? I know you do. You love all your children.
If you love me, you would allow me to see, feel, or hear the faintest bits of Ichigo's presence, and you would help me seek Renji's forgiveness. I shall continue to pray and ask for that bit of mercy.
Blue eyes shot open when a horn honked behind him. Grimmjow quickly looked forward and pressed on the gas. He cursed under his breath and cursed himself for dazing like that. He blew air through his clenched teeth and focused harder on the street ahead of himself.
"I need a coffee break," Grimmjow announced to himself, "and bad." With that, the blue haired man drove down a few more blocks and made a right. He pulled over to the side of the street and parked. When he got out, he inhaled the air and blew it out with his daily guilt seeping from his lips. He closed the car door, locked the car, and made his way over to the sidewalk.
His black business suit glowed in the sun's glare and outlined Grimmjow's masculine body. A red tie was tied around his neck, and a recently bought rosary hung under his dress shirt. He bought the rosary the week before because he thought that the relic would help him with his guilt; he couldn't help but feel wrong.
Grimmjow walked up to Harribel's Coffee Shop and let himself in. The green framed glass door made the bell ring twice upon the blue haired man's entrance. His dress shoes clacked along the hardwood floor that rivaled the shine of the glass chandeliers hanging on the ceiling. His large hand came to rest on the wooden counter with a cash register resting on it.
"Harribel," called Grimmjow. He waited for the blond haired woman to make her way over after attending to a customer. After a few moments, the woman finally appeared in front of him with her dress that had "Boss" labeled over her chest. He paid no mind to the large breasts or the pink short dress with an apron.
"Well," said Harribel in a bored greeting. "If it isn't the big bad player...You need a coffee for you and your hookers to share?" She put her hands on her hips.
Harribel was the owner of the coffee shop, and she was Grimmjow's friend. They met when Grimmjow tried hitting on her; the result was beaten into Grimmjow's groin. The woman wasn't into men, nor was she into even trying to lay with men. Grimmjow served as an example of both her preference and tolerance; as a result; most men avoided talking to her more than as a customer to an employee.
"No hookers, Harribel," said Grimmjow in a melancholic voice. "I've been clean for two years."
The blond didn't raise a brow as she continued to stare.
A blue brow raised, though, and Grimmjow asked, "I see you about every week, and you haven't noticed that I've been alone on all visits?" He frowned when the woman looked around and behind him. She just shrugged at him, and Grimmjow rolled his eyes.
"You want your usual?" asked Harribel. She uncrossed her arms and made her way to the coffee pot, knowing that Grimmjow would want his black coffee. She poured the hot liquid and capped the drink. She handed the coffee to Grimmjow and said, "Two years, huh? I didn't know you had that in you."
Grimmjow shook his head and took the coffee. He stared at the lid and replied, "Me neither. That is until I met that one person I wanted so bad, and I lost him." He put the coffee on the counter and rested his head on his palm. "I feel like such an idiot." He heard the woman sigh.
"F.Y.I.," corrected Harribel, "you are an idiot. You really need to know when to fight and give up. You fight for an easy lay, but you don't fight for something you want." She tilted Grimmjow's head up and added, "That's messed up. The habit should be the other way around."
"But I already lost him," Grimmjow quietly whined as his eyes dipped.
Harribel rolled her eyes. "How does Chad put up with listening to you?" asked she. "You still see him, no?" When the other nodded, she finished, "Then, get off your lazy bum and talk to Chad. If I tell you what's up, then you'll just whine."
Grimmjow pouted and looked at Harribel defiantly.
"Don't make me slap you," said Harribel. "You know I hate that weak face." She crossed her arms.
"I did talk to him," announced Grimmjow. The conversation was fresh. The advice was fresh. The interactions were daily. The blue haired man seemed to be glued to Chad during the days and weekends. They would catch up on work events or talk about popular topics. The conversation rarely turned to the issue of Ichigo's disappearance and Renji's death. Chad was still touchy about the event, too, so Grimmjow didn't want to tear at any wounds. When the conversation came to so, he never asked Chad about what his next step should be, but he asked what his possibilities were. He always got the same answer.
You can pray and hope, or you can just attend your job and move on. Of course, either choice would come with a cost. The costs between time and love. Pitting each one against yourself would be unfair, but they're there for you. No matter which choice you take, Grimmjow. I'll support you the best I can, echoed Chad's words. To Grimmjow, Chad was like the most patient guru anyone could ever meet, especially during repeated conversations.
"You know what he's been saying," stated Harribel. "Just do what your heart says." She ruffled Grimmjow's hair and turned with a wave over her shoulder.
Grimmjow raised his hand to protest about the payment, but he was stopped when Harribel yelled over her shoulder, "Coffee's on me." She vanished in the back kitchen after picking up a large empty tray.
The blue haired man looked down at the cup and traced the white styrofoam and the fancy lettering on the cover. He just nodded his head and picked up the cup. He made his way out the shop with another couple of rings of the door bell, and he walked to his car. His blue eyes drifted upward and widened.
Across the street was a sight he never thought he would see. Did God answer him? Did fate want him to have another chance? Did he really reach out to God after two years of devoted prayer? Grimmjow didn't know.
The world seemed to pause. The birds were still in midair, the people were frozen in place, and the cars were halted in the streets. He felt rooted, too, and he felt his lungs compress. That had to be him; that had to be Ichigo. That had to be Ichigo dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans.
The other's hair licked the air lazily in orange blades, and his small smile lit up the street. Hands were tucked into the jean pockets, and eyes were focused on the walkway leading into the hottest store in Karakura, Vizard Fashions.
Grimmjow gulped and mouthed Ichigo's name. He meant to call out to the other, but his voice didn't follow. Why? His feet were heavily rooted to the ground, and his eyes were frozen in one direction. He watched helplessly until Ichigo pushed through the glass doors of the fashion store.
"Hey!" came a voice.
The blue haired man snapped from his trance and blinked. He put a hand to his head and dragged it down his face. He looked back and saw a man staring at him with a bit of concern.
"You alright, sir?" asked the same man.
Grimmjow sighed and just nodded. When the other tilted his head in questioning. "I'm fine," he said in a more reassuring tone.
The man just nodded and continued on his way down the street.
I have to see you.
Vizard Fashion was a huge clothing store with three floors. The walls were white, and the roman pillars were white. The colors came from pictures on the walls and the clothing. There were numerous splashes of pink, green, and turquoise. There were splashes of red and purple on the pillars, looking like paint was flung around the room.
Jeans sat on racks near the walls, designer pants were modeled by maneqquins and folded in neat piles on tables, and jackets were hung on hooks along the walls. Women's clothing was organized the same way, but the dresses were put on special display near the entrance of the store.
Upon entrance, customers were greeted by a blond man named Shinji, who was dressed in odd colored clothes. The blond sat behind a green counter with a black register, and he had his feet propped on the counter with his hands behind his head.
When the entered and were greeted, Rukia darted for the dresses and started squealing about the different colors and designer brands. Ichigo shook his head and made his way to the men's section. He walked around and criticized the colorful pants based on color and texture. He made his way around the racks and came to face the wall, where he thought the regular pants would be.
He came face to face with a large painting of the sea. There was a merman with a large trident overlooking the sea with a scrutinizing look. The merman's chin was shaved, and his tail was a sea green with golden scales lining his waist and trailing up to his belly button.
Ichigo gulped, for the merman was looking at the sea with sky blue eyes as his hair flapped in the wind in sea blue waves. He saw a crown perched on the merman's head. He couldn't help but remember Grimmjow. The merman was like his spitting image, but there was green under the eyes that vined into the hair.
He just shook his head. You'll never see that man again, so stop thinking about him. This painting is obviously of Poseidon, he thought. Ichigo traced the gold frame of the painting with his eyes and stopped at a plaque on the bottom. Ichigo quietly mouthed, "The King looks out to the see in search of his lost love. Centuries of bare water do not deter his never ending gaze."
"Sad," commented Ichigo. He combed his hair with his fingers and turned away. He didn't want to think of the painting or love anymore. He had to move on with a mind that didn't fall into the question of love. He'd find it. He wasn't sure when, but he'd find it.
Brown eyes continued to search over the clothing for something that would look good on him. He was hoping that searching for the right outfit would avert his mind's thoughts of Grimmjow. He knew that was two years ago, so why does he feel compelled to think of the man now? He mindlessly searched over the fruity shirts and tight pants.
After some time, Ichigo was bored looking through all of the frilly clothing that was supposedly for men. He fingered a ruffled pink shirt and dropped it from his fingertips after sighing. He turned his sights on another piece of clothing and touched the fabric. He pulled out the shirt and looked at it. The shirt was blue with green scales attached to the shoulders. Ichigo quickly put the shirt back.
The painting flashed in his mind, and his thoughts went back to Grimmjow. The shirt just triggered everything again. Ichigo shook his head and tried to push the thoughts away. Be critical, Ichigo. Just criticize the shirt and forget about him.
"How does a blue shirt have green scales on it? That's absurd fashion," he quietly complained under his breath. He dragged his eyes over the rest of the clothes and spotted a normal shirt. He was sure that he would be surprised with another odd addition to the simple cloth, but he thought that he should give the cloth a shot.
His hand reached for the neck of the hanger and grasped the thin plastic. He pulled it free, but he stopped when he felt a force stop him. Ichigo looked down at the hanger and noticed another hand on the hanger's shoulder. He looked up and gaped.
Speak of the devil, he thought.
Brown eyes gazed back into the ocean. He was frozen in place. His mouth was still ajar, and his hand was still on the hanger. He felt the sudden urge to swim in the ocean blues and free the crashing water that threatened the glassy seal.
"Grimmjow?" Ichigo suddenly asked. He blinked and let go of the hanger. He took a step back and tried not to gaze over the other. Ichigo looked down with a blush. He felt a warm hand touch his face, so he looked up. He tried just to look somewhere else, but the ocean swallowed him whole again. He was drowning.
The other nodded with a smile. "Ichigo," stated Grimmjow. He didn't care if they had been apart for two years. He had to see the other. He had to look into the other's eyes and make sure his angel was real. When he gazed upon the glittering doe eyes, his heart melted and started up in flames. His chest was warm, and his gut churned nervously. He couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto his face.
"Ichigo," he said again. He quickly embraced the other. Grimmjow knew that he was being really straightforward, but Ichigo was the one. He was Grimmjow's angel, and he wouldn't lose Ichigo again.
Ichigo didn't know what to say to Grimmjow. He was stuck in an embrace that had his arms locked between him and Grimmjow's broad chest. He could feel the muscles bunching and heaving warmth onto him, and when he inhaled air, he smelt Grimmjow's scent. He thought that he was smelling the sea.
He blinked and pushed against Grimmjow. He still remembered. Ichigo remembered, and he didn't want to get lost at sea again. The orange haired man would admit that he felt warm and safe in Grimmjow's arms, but he still didn't know Grimmjow too well. His last emotion was jovial, but he wasn't sure if that was something he could pick up after two long years.
"Ichigo," Grimmjow said as he continued the embrace.
"Grimmjow," said Ichigo. He really needed to get out of the hug. He wanted it, but he needed to be free of the sea. "Let go," he begged. The need for freedom dripped from his voice in heavy splashes.
The blue haired man gulped and did his best not to squeeze the other harder, then he let go. He looked down at Ichigo and put on a friendly smile. "You look good," he said in a low voice.
Ichigo looked down and replied, "Thanks." He didn't dare look up again.
"Sorry," said Grimmjow. He cleared his throat and added, "About almost hugging ya t' death." He chuckled lightly. The pounding heart in his chest beckoned him to kiss the other and look back into the doe eyes, but he didn't want to scare the other any more than he felt he already did.
"That's alright," answered Ichigo. His eyes looked up Grimmjow's body until he stopped at the lips. He knew that if he looked higher than the lips, he would be swept away at sea for good. "How've you been?" he asked.
Grimmjow smoothed his hair back and answered, "I've been okay." His blue eyes trailed over the other and appreciated the glowing beauty that burned brighter than their last encounter. "How about you, Ichigo?" he asked. He felt a slight shiver travel through his body and create goose bumps along his skin. Just saying Ichigo's name made him want to fall off of his feet.
"I've been alright," replied Ichigo. He looked to a tacky shirt and frowned. "It's been two years," he said bluntly. He heard a sad sigh, making his heart jump. Did he just hear the other's true emotion?
"That's too long," said Grimmjow. He wanted Ichigo to be his, and if that was going to happen, he needed to break the ice again. This time, he would keep the frozen wall down for good.
"Yeah," said Ichigo looking to another shirt.
"Look," started Grimmjow as he put his hands into his pockets, "I'm sorry about everything that happened two years ago. I never did get a chance to give my condolences to you. I prayed to God and Renji to give the man my condolences and apologize myself."
The orange haired man could feel the sad emotions and guilt pouring from the other's words. He felt that at times, especially when he thought too hard about Renji's death. Ichigo looked up and did his best to resist the strong pull of the ocean waves. "You didn't kill him, Grimmjow," he said. "That was the past, and the memory will always be there. But, I won't dwell on it. You should do the same. I have forgiven his murderer, and I have forgiven you a long time ago. Don't feel sad anymore."
He saw the ocean's waves die down a bit. There was a soft swirl in the water, but the foamy waves weren't threatening anymore. Ichigo could stand and look straight into the ocean without feeling the pull.
Grimmjow didn't know how Ichigo saw through him. He felt as if the other just reached into his soul and pulled out his true emotion. He blinked when he saw Ichigo start to turn away. Grimmjow quickly grabbed the other's arm and let go just as quick when Ichigo shook him off.
"Ichigo," he started, "when can I see you again?" When he didn't get a straight answer, he quickly went in front of Ichigo and begged more than asked, "Can I see you tomorrow?"
Ichigo licked his lips and asked, "What time?"
"Two," said Grimmjow in a lighter tone. "Does lunch sound okay?" When the other nodded, he gulped and asked, "Where are you staying? I'll pick you up." He pulled out his phone and opened up the note pad. He typed in the address Ichigo gave him and stored it in his phone. Grimmjow blinked when Ichigo took the phone and typed something into it.
When Grimmjow got his phone back, he looked at the screen and saw the other's phone number. He looked up and saw Ichigo walking away. His heart was jumping, but it didn't jump in sadness or nervousness. His heart was dancing for joy because he would see his Ichigo and those angel eyes.
Ichigo walked toward the dress section and spotted Rukia. Telling her everything wasn't the first thing on his mind. He couldn't believe he gave the other his friend's address and his phone number. He couldn't believe he heard Grimmjow's emotions as clear as day, and he couldn't believe Grimmjow wanted to see him. Overall, he wasn't sure if he was okay to move on like that.
He saw Rukia hold up four dresses, and he had to smile as she jumped around with a huge smile. He'd tell her later.
Author's Note:
Yes, I'm horrible. I meant to update this two weeks ago, but my internet back home turned off. :'( So I couldn't do anything. Then, I started college, so I had to adjust first. But! I did work on this over time, so I could put it up this weekend.
I hope you all liked it, and I hope you all look forward to the next chapter. It'll be called "I Forgive You." I know I'll enjoy writing the next chapter.
"Warrior's Fate" will be on hold for a bit. That story will require more thought than usual, so I want to finish "Angel Eyes" first. We are not too far from the end, and the end is not too near. I hope that makes sense. I'll still write other stuff like one shots, but "Angel Eyes" will be my main story focus.
See ya soon.