-All For the Money, Honey: [Chapter 11: Priceless Memories: Part 1]-

Pairing: Grimmjow Jeagerjaques x Ichigo Kurosaki

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I do NOT own any Bleach characters (Mr. Kubo is their godly creator)

Grimmjow gradually opened his eyes and as the pain slowly came back to him, he groaned loudly. Ichigo appeared over him and the cerulean began to speak, his voice rasping slightly, "Where am I?"

"At my father's clinic. You passed out in the car from blood loss and you've been out for just over a day."

Grimmjow's eyes focused on Ichigo standing at the foot of what looked to be basic hospital bed. He didn't think there would be enough room to fit one, but he supposed that even a small clinic would need a bed in case of emergencies. He slowly sat up and pulled the sheets off of himself. As a dulled ache on his side suddenly made itself apparent, he noticed the thick bandages wrapped around his upper chest. "Your dad did this?"

Ichigo nodded, "Yeah, I watched him remove the debris from your wounds," His face darkened suddenly, "... there was a lot."

There was a heavy silence as the cerulean was unsure how to respond. To Grimmjow, this injury was nothing to overly worry about, but it looked like Ichigo was taking it a little harder. Grimmjow smirked despite himself, "Did I break anything?"

"Barely. You've got a small hairline fracture on the side of your 6th rib." Ichigo indicated to the left side of his own ribcage, about halfway down to show where the fracture was. "Even though it's small, it'll take a good few weeks for it to heal."

Grimmjow grimaced. "Fuck that." He licked his lips as hunger was beginning to gnaw at his stomach. "Is there anything I can eat?"

After Ichigo fetched a plate of leftovers from the fridge (Grimmjow didn't strike him as a fussy eater), the redhead pulled up a nearby chair to the side of the bed and silently watched the cerulean eagerly tuck into the food before him.

While Grimmjow had been unconscious, he'd had time enough to think about their brief conversation in the car. Ichigo had initially felt slightly apprehensive about hearing the cerulean talk about his past. If the incident at the awards festival had taught him anything, it was that Grimmjow was hiding something, something that almost definitely involved Ichigo. It was possible that he was only hiding their connection in the past, but Ulquiorra's suspicious goading made him think otherwise. The redhead had a moment where he thought that it would be much safer for both himself and his family if he didn't get involved any more than he needed to.

But later when Ichigo was watching Isshin clean Grimmjow's wounds, any uncertainties he had just disappeared. As his father removed Grimmjow's jacket and shirt, Ichigo's eyes came upon an old, harsh looking scar that ran down from his chest to abdomen. Having seen his fair share of scarred tissue in the clinic, he could quickly tell that no proper medical treatment had been given and the thought of having to bear with such a painful wound made his breath catch in his throat. He wanted to know more about Grimmjow, about that scar, about his past. Ichigo had never been one to turn away from a problem and he wasn't going to start now.

Grimmjow took the last bite of his meal and set the plate aside. "Whatever you want to say, just say it."

"Huh?"

"You've yet to take your eyes off me and you're frowning is more intense than usual," Grimmjow smiled knowingly.

Ichigo couldn't help but flick his eyes down to the cerulean's chest, his scar protruding out from the top of the bandages. "... I want to hear about how you knew me in the past. You began to say something on the way over here but you didn't get very far." Ichigo smirked.

Grimmjow frowned sheepishly, "I can't believe I passed out so easily..." His eyes slowly scanned the room, "Where's Ilfort?"

"He's long gone. He said to call when you're ready." Sensing that Grimmjow might be a bit reluctant to spill very personal information, Ichigo added, "Also Yuzu and Karin have gone to school and dad's visiting the Karakura hospital, so it's just you and me."

"I'm not worried about being interrupted. Ilfort knows about as much as you do and if he was here I'd probably let him listen in too." Grimmjow's mouth stretched into a devious smile, "Though I quite like the idea that there's no one to disturb us."

Ichigo scowled at him, mostly for his suggestive comment, but also because he could see that the cerulean was stalling. "You're forgetting that you have a fractured rib."

"Like hell I could. Now that I'm awake, I'm sore all over. Though despite that I can tell your dad did a good job." Grimmjow ran a hand lightly over the bandages. He fell silent for a moment before continuing. "A lot of people would love to have a capable father like him."

This perked the redhead's interest. "... People like you?"

"Nah, my parents weren't bad people per se, they were just the wrong people to raise someone like me. I didn't care to remember much about them, but what I do remember is that they couldn't give a fuck about what I did as long as they weren't involved and I still attended school."

Ichigo tried to imagine a younger, smaller Grimmjow in a school uniform. He couldn't do it no matter how hard he tried.

"I did my best to avoid them and thus ended up spending a lot of time on the streets. Even though I was only a kid I managed to end up in all sorts of trouble, but I quickly found enjoyment in hurting those who tried to get in my way." Grimmjow chuckled darkly. Even now, he still felt no remorse for his violent behaviour.

Ichigo didn't agree with Grimmjow's attitude, but said nothing and let him continue.

"I was about twelve years old and practically a rogue when one day I ended up in the local karate dojo where I would later meet a small orange haired boy who'd start crying when he lost a match."

Grimmjow grinned and Ichigo's eyes widened. "The dojo! But... I'm sure I would've remembered if there was a student with a hair colour as bizarre as yours."

Grimmjow shook his head, "I wasn't a student. The dojo owner let me hang around because I guess he thought it was better for me to be there instead of in the streets." The side of his mouth stretched into a lopsided smile as the memories flooded through his mind. "It was storming really heavily and I had nowhere to escape from the rain, so when I came upon an open back door, I ran in without a second thought..."

-[Ten Years Ago...]-

Water trickled down off of Grimmjow's clothes and onto the floor in slowly growing puddles. He struggled to fight back a shiver as his soaking clothes clung to his skin. "Fucking rain," he cursed under his breath, his voice yet to deepen with puberty but still laced with the same menacing tone.

Grimmjow ran a hand through his hair and more water dripped to the ground. The contours of his face were softer and his hair was unruly and long enough to just come over his eyes. However, living so vicariously had made him mature a lot faster and he acted more like an older teenager would despite still having the physical appearance of a kid.

As feeling started to come back to the tips of his fingers and nose, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Grimmjow quickly turned his head around to see a tall man wearing a trainer's uniform. It was then that he realised he'd stepped into the back of the local karate dojo. The young cerulean clenched his fists. If the trainer tried to kick him out, he wasn't sure how well he'd be able to put up a fight.

The older man smiled to himself. "You should come further inside before you catch a cold. But I'm telling you now; if you try and nick anything I'll give you a right beating."

Grimmjow smirked back, "as if there's anything here worth stealing."

Having dealt with his fair share of unruly brats, the trainer silently responded with a half-hearted shrug. The kid cautiously followed him into the dojo, his curiosity overcoming him as his eyes scanned the room. He stood in the corner and watched as at least two different classes were practicing drills. Grimmjow had earned all his fighting experience the hard way and had never needed to go to a dojo so it was interesting to see how regular children learnt to defend themselves. It was a lot tamer than he'd expected.

The trainer nudged Grimmjow on the shoulder with a towel he'd picked up. "Dry yourself with this." He followed the cerulean's line of vision and smiled, "do you want to join in?"

"No." Grimmjow frowned as he dried his hair, "I'm not very good at playing with others."

The older man rolled his eyes. "Well you can stay here as long as you don't interfere with anyone." With that, he returned to his students but kept an eye on the cerulean boy.

Grimmjow settled himself down in the corner amongst the equipment, leaning against a pile of safety mats. There he could remain mostly out of sight from the other students but still had a perfect view to watch their lessons. As he watched them kick and punch in their neat, white uniforms, he quickly became aware of how big the gap between them was. Not just in social standing or fighting ability, but an emotional gap. The students looked like they were having fun, but not the same kind of fun that Grimmjow had when his opponents fell before him. He saw students the same age as him but they were so much more naive than he was, almost untouched by the horrors the world had to offer.

He smiled to himself and closed his eyes. This dojo was the perfect place to hang out without the worry of the shit in his life interrupting him from a peaceful afternoon doze. The sound of rain against the roof lulled Grimmjow into the deepest sleep he'd had in a long time.

But deep sleep or not, the second the rain stopped, Grimmjow's eyes shot open and the trainer watched as he disappeared out the back door.

After that stormy day, Grimmjow continued to visit the dojo on a weekly basis. He would always sit in the same spot, comfortably hidden behind all the equipment. One week however, the trainer interrupted his light slumber. "Hey, kid. I need those safety mats for today's lesson. Could I get you to drag them out into the middle of the floor?" But before the cerulean could respond, he walked off.

Since Grimmjow didn't have anything better to do, he did as the trainer asked and pulled the pile of mats out into the middle of the dojo's floor. They were a little bit heavier than he would've thought, but there was no way that he was going to show the trainer that. As he let go of the mats, he became aware that a couple dozen eyes were staring at him, belonging to a bunch of kids probably about seven or eight year old. The hairs at the back of his neck stood up with the discomfort of being watched so intently.

Grimmjow scowled and turned to slink back to the equipment corner. As he passed, all the children slowly went back to doing whatever the hell they were doing before, all except one redhead kid whose gaze followed the cerulean all the way back to the corner.

Well, two could play that game. Grimmjow leant against the wall rather than hiding behind the equipment and stared right back at the redhead. The kid was small and so innocent looking with his wide brown eyes that seemed to hesitate when he was stared back at, but to Grimmjow's surprise, he didn't yield and look away. Their gaze was locked for just over a minute but was broken when the trainer stepped out in front to start their class and the redhead scampered off like the obedient little child he was.

For the rest of the afternoon, Grimmjow watched the redhead kid with curiosity. It was the first time that he had ever seen someone so bad at fighting. Sometimes, it was almost too funny to watch. He'd thought that maybe this kid was a little tough, since he stood up to Grimmjow's glaring, but watching him spar with a crazy, little short-haired girl, it was quickly apparent that he was nothing more than a weak cry-baby.

Some of the other students would snigger quietly every time the redhead started crying when he was beaten, and why shouldn't they? Watching his latest tearful defeat, Grimmjow was trying to muffle a smirk when the front door of the dojo swung open.

A long haired woman walked in, probably a mother of one of the students and she was beautiful. The cerulean watched her with a slight sense of awe as she sat down on one of the chairs beside the door.

The redhead noticed her arrival as well and Grimmjow's eyes widened considerably when the kid's tear-streaked face broke out into a wide smile. Grimmjow thought, what the heck was with this kid? What kind of boy grins when he looses? And the smile was directed right at the woman. It clicked who she was to him and the cerulean smirked for a different reason. This kid was way too innocent to be true.

The trainer clapped his hands together, signifying the end of the class and the redhead rushed over to his mother, the big grin never leaving his face.

Grimmjow watched the pair with curiosity. He'd never seen such a sweet closeness between mother and child before. It was a strange sense of curiosity because despite the fact that the cerulean honestly couldn't give a shit about his own mother, he was far too content with how messed up he'd turned out to be to really hate the bitch. But seeing the way the redhead kid and his mom acted around each other was fascinating in itself, like seeing the very last of a species.

A clock high up on the wall chimed loudly. It was five o'clock, about the time for all the other parents to appear. The kids all started to run around and wait eagerly with their friends for their parents to pick them up.

Grimmjow though it was about time he left too. Tonight he had to meet up with some shithead gang who had been trying to recruit him recently but since it was obvious that the cerulean had no intention of joining them, they were slowly turning towards more violent means. It had been ages since Grimmjow had had a chance to let loose so boy, was he excited.

Just as he was about to leave, a voice called from the other side of the room, "Bye!" Grimmjow turned and saw the redhead kid waving. He paused when he realised that the kid was waving at him! "Bye!" He called again, a smile stretched right across his face.

And Grimmjow just stood there, absolutely dumbfounded. He didn't know how to respond or how to feel about this. All he knew was that he didn't exactly hate it per se, but he was far from being able to understand if he liked it. He watched the redhead and his mother leave, the kid once again engrossed with her presence.

The cerulean mumbled under his breath, "... See ya."

As if that fateful encounter had started a chain reaction, every time the redhead kid saw Grimmjow, they would always say hello and goodbye to each other. Grimmjow always expected him to try and talk to him more, but maybe the kid understood that just acknowledging his existence was enough.

Before Grimmjow knew it, he was only hanging around at the dojo when he knew that the redhead was there and would end up watch him almost the entire time. The kid was slowly improving his fighting ability and eventually, one day, he managed to beat the crazy black-haired girl and when he did, he turned to where the cerulean was sitting against the wall and smiled so proudly. At first he didn't respond, but the redhead continued to smile at him every time he won and before Grimmjow realised it, he found himself smiling back.

While Ichigo was making small improvements, out on the shadier sides of town, Grimmjow was quickly becoming infamous. After having kicked the crap out of that shithead gang, everyone was catching on about the blue-haired kid with a destructive streak. All kinds of scum crawled out of the woodwork to have a go at him, but in the end served as nothing more than Grimmjow's playthings.

As his infamy continued to grow, it didn't take long for him to notice that he was being followed. This new realisation spawned an unconscious protectiveness in the cerulean. He didn't want those bastards to know about his frequent visits to the dojo. Not just because the redhead kid was there, but because he'd never forgive himself if the assholes did something to the place.

Grimmjow took extra precautions to ensure that he wouldn't be followed. He stopped fighting recklessly and avoided areas which he wasn't familiar with. His senses improved tenfold and he learnt how to disappear out of sight.

One night, there was another huge storm. Grimmjow entered the back of the dojo and shook himself, droplets of water flicking everywhere. "I fucking hate rain," he growled. He hadn't been in a storm this bad since the first time he found himself at the dojo's back door just over a year ago. He dragged his hand up over his face and through his soaked hair. He'd changed a lot since that time; he'd had a growth spurt which added a good dozen centimetres to his height and his voice was on the cusp of deepening; his face was starting to mould into the shape it would become in his adult years.

The trainer threw a towel at him as he walked into the dojo room and sat in his usual spot against the wall.

The redhead kid bounded over, his face all smiles as per usual, "Hello!"

Grimmjow didn't hesitate to grin back, "Hey there."

The class started right on time and today the kid was fighting the crazy black-haired girl again. When he lost, he pouted his lip and his eyes started to tear, but that was all. The kid was finally learning not to cry. A loud clap of thunder sounded overhead and a few of the younger students glanced around fearfully, but not the redhead kid.

The storm was just as ferocious when the class ended, the parents all shuffling in with dripping umbrellas and upturned coat collars. The redhead's mother sat down in the chair beside the door as always and gave her umbrella a brisk shake. Even with her hair messy from the wind, she was still beautiful.

The redhead waved and smiled as his mother tried to wrestle a rain coat onto him, "Bye!"

"Bye!" Grimmjow called loudly across the room, fighting over the noise of the storm. One word to the kid was all it took to push away the cold feeling from the rain and he still didn't fully understand why, but frankly, he didn't care.

But if he'd known that this was the last time he'd ever get to spend with the redhead kid at the dojo, maybe he would've said a little more.

D'awww little Ichigo is so cute! You have no idea how many times I had to flick through volume 2 of the manga to make sure that the little details are correct.

I was initially going to have this as one chapter, but I was about a quarter of the way in when I realised that I had so much to write that it would easily fit into two chapters. This chapter was one pretty much big prelude to part 2, but it still very relevant for their growth as characters. The next chapter though is going to be awesome.

Gah, uni has made me so darn busy and I neglected one of my assignments big time to write this chapter. I got it done in the end, but only a few days before it was due! This website will be the death of my GPA! (grade point average). Though the next few weeks are going to be fuuuun! My birthday is a week from now and the week after that, I'm going to Taiwan for about 6 days. It'll be the first time I've left the country in ages.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Comments and reviews will be used to posses my hands and help me finish the next chapter faster.