The following day, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow left the shower together. Grimmjow insisted on towel-drying Ulquiorra's hair so while he toweled him off, Ulquiorra buttoned Grimmjow's shirt. "Did you get tickets for our flight?" Ulquiorra asked.
"Yeah. It was short notice, so the only flight I could get was early tonight."
Ulquiorra couldn't complain. He had to speak to Orihime and tell her goodbye. As for his father . . .
"May I borrow your phone? I need to get in touch with my father, let him know I'm all right."
Ulquiorra borrowed his phone while Grimmjow ducked into the bathroom to blow his hair dry. Ulquiorra took in a breath, drumming his fingers on his knee.
"Hello, this is Dr. Tanaka. Who's speaking?"
"Sorry," Ulquiorra checked the number he'd dialed. It was his father's. Confusion twisted up his insides. "I'm calling for Aizen Sousuke. I'm his son, Ulquiorra."
"We've been trying to reach you. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your father was in an accident."
Something cold dropped into the pit of his stomach. "I'm . . . sorry. What?"
No.
"He's in critical condition."
He was coming to get me. He never showed up, I should have known something had—
"Ulquiorra-san?"
"I'm coming over now, where is he?" Ulquiorra's knees wobbled as he ran to the door. The doctor gave him the address. Ulquiorra hung up just as Grimmjow stepped out of the bathroom.
"What's wrong?" Grimmjow's brow furrowed.
"My father, he's—" What did he say? Was his father dying? "He was in an accident, critical condition. I have to . . ."
"Shit." Grimmjow went to his side and grabbed his jacket. "I'll take you. Come on." They ran to the elevator. Ulquiorra's heart pounded against his chest. His stomach churned and every breath was sharp in his lungs.
Next thing he knew, he was holding Grimmjow tight as they sped toward the hospital on his bike. He barely felt the bitter wind on his fingers, and the deafening roar of the bike was oddly quiet in his ears. They drove past an ice cream shop on the corner where his father had taken him once as a small boy. He'd begged and begged and his father relented.
"Just once. Sugar isn't good for you."
But his father had one, too, and they'd eaten together in the park across the street. Ulquiorra didn't remember what they'd talked about, or if they'd spoken at all.
All my life I've wondered, "Does my father love me?" When I thought I had an answer, he'd shut me out to focus on work. I genuinely didn't believe he'd come for me last night. Why should he after I'd disrespected him? Otherwise I'd have stayed, I'd have waited. All my life, you've been an enigma, Father.
Ulquiorra left Grimmjow's side when they arrived at the ER. Rooms sped by and became a blur as he ran. He threw open the door, struggling to catch his breath. Aizen Sousuke, the giant of the automobile industry, lay twisted in bed. His hips were bent in an abnormal direction, bandages covered his arms and his face. Ulquiorra gripped the doorknob for support, throat too tight to breathe.
"His organs are failing, Ulquiorra-san. He doesn't have much time left."
His lips trembling, Ulquiorra only nodded. The doctor closed the door quietly behind him. He sat heavily at the end of the bed and slumped over, unable to look at the broken man in bed beside him.
Was there anything I more I could have done to be the son you wanted?
"Ulquiorra?" His father's voice was barely above a whisper. His breath was slow and shallow, and sounded as if something were rattling in his chest.
Ulquiorra clasped his father's hand and held tight. "I'm here. I'm all right."
His father's eyelids fluttered. He looked as if he could hardly bare to stay awake. "Thank goodness."
Ulquiorra swallowed hard, blinking back the emotions burning his eyes. "Grimmjow saved me. We're going to move to Tokyo, then maybe to Thailand so we can marry."
"Not . . . as if I could stop you if I tried." Aizen rasped, tired eyes regarding Ulquiorra. There was no coldness in them, only resignation. Acceptance, if bitter.
"No." Ulquiorra managed a weak smile. "He makes me happy."
"Then I suppose I must congratulate you. It's not the happiness I'd have chosen. But it's yours. Your life." Aizen grimaced, raising his other arm, fingers inching across the sheets and clasp Ulquiorra's hand. "In the end, that's the best you can hope for your children." He grasped Ulquiorra's sleeve and tugged. Ulquiorra squared his jaw, willing himself to be strong for his father. He brought his face to his father's shoulder and put his arms around him as gently as he could.
"Thank you." Something coursed hot and wet down his cheeks.
"The business if yours, if you'll have it."
Ulquiorra couldn't deny him his final request. He wouldn't let his father's life work fall into the wrong hands. "I will. I won't disappoint you. I'll make you proud."
His father held him tight. "I am, son."
Grimmjow and Ulquiorra cancelled their flight in the wake of his father's deteriorating condition. Ulquiorra wanted to spend the rest of the day at the hospital. Any second he could spend with his father was precious to him. He'd spent years longing to get away from him, but he'd never wanted things to end like this between them. He had to make up for the time they'd lost.
Orihime came to visit him and they had lunch at a café across the street. She squeezed him tight. "I'm so sorry, Ulquiorra-kun."
Ulquiorra didn't know what to say and picked at his ramen. "He's dying. He's finally treating me like his son, accepting what makes me happy. Why couldn't things be like this before?"
"It's not fair, I know." Orihime took his hand. "He's probably scared. You're the only family he has. He doesn't want to die alone."
"Silly, isn't it? We take for granted all the time we have. We don't realize until we're gasping for breath just how short and uncertain life is. We wasted so much time, and I've wasted yours by making you go along with my father's ridiculous ideas."
"No, no! It wasn't a waste of time!" Orihime flailed her arms, struggling to assure him. "Because of you, I met Kurosaki-kun again. The minute he heard the marriage was off, he asked me out!" A smile that could rival the sun burst across her face. "It's like I'm reliving my high school dream. That wouldn't have happened without you."
Ulquiorra's lips quirked. At least one of them saw the silver lining in this.
"And, Ulquiorra-kun," she touched his arm. "No matter what happens, you have Grimmjow-kun. I bet you'll have to pester him to leave you alone. He really cares about you."
Grimmjow had been his rock throughout his father's decline. He'd brought Ulquiorra breakfast and sat with him. They talked about anything and everything, and he managed to make Ulquiorra laugh even when it felt impossible. "The feeling is mutual."
Orihime squealed. "You're blushing!"
"No, I'm not." Ulquiorra insisted, touching his face. It was warm.
"I can't wait for the wedding!"
"That's some time off. We'll both be so busy until then."
Orihime pouted. "I'll miss you."
"I'll be in touch."
They parted ways with a tight, long hug. Ulquiorra returned to the hospital and he and Grimmjow sat with his father until visiting hours were over. Aizen was barely conscious, but Grimmjow said they'd spoken briefly when Aizen had the energy.
"What did you talk about?"
Grimmjow shrugged. "He didn't say much, think I talked his ear off, though. Mostly about you."
"He's still holding on," Ulquiorra murmured, trying to squash the foolish part of him that was hopeful his father might magically recover.
"Maybe he doesn't wanna leave you," Grimmjow said.
Ulquiorra went and sat by his father's bed. Aizen's face was pale, his eyes sunken. He looked so skeletal and weak. Ulquiorra touched a frail arm and said, "You've fought hard enough, Father. I'm grateful for the time we've had. I promise I'll take care of the company. You don't have to worry." Though reluctant to leave him, Ulquiorra was exhausted. "I'm going to go now. I'll be back in the morning. I love you."
Ulquiorra's body weighted a thousand pounds as he stood. There was nothing more he could say or do. Grimmjow's hand fell warm and strong upon his shoulder and side-by-side, they left the hospital room together.
Ulquiorra was grateful he'd said all he wanted to say: Aizen Sousuke passed away that night and left behind a legacy.
Ulquiorra, Grimmjow and a handful of Aizen's closest business associates attended the funeral. Orihime stood by Ulquiorra's side, her hand gently on his shoulder. The pain of his father's loss came rushing back as they lowered the casket into the earth and he squared his jaw to keep himself together, blinking hard. Once the business associates went inside for the reception, Ulquiorra knelt before the mound of fresh earth. He had no regrets. His lifelong wish of finally connecting with his father had come true, no matter how short lived.
Grimmjow knelt beside him and took his hand. "I hate funerals. Always make you realize one day you'll be the one in the ground."
"Life is short and unexpected," Ulquiorra agreed. "If there's anything you want to wrap up before we leave for Tokyo, you should do it."
Grimmjow's brow furrowed, as if he'd read Ulquiorra's mind. "I can't see my parents, Ulquiorra. Not after what they did."
"That was years ago. It's possible they regret it."
"What should I care? If they were gonna regret it, they shouldn't have thrown me to the wolves."
"You haven't thought once about seeing them?"
Grimmjow hesitated. "Sometimes. I wonder how they're doing, if they miss me at all. But so what?"
Ulquiorra gripped his kneecap. "If you have any doubts, settle them now."
"It's not that simple," Grimmjow said bitterly.
"It could be."
Grimmjow rolled his eyes when Ulquiorra echoed his own words back at him.
"Unless you're scared of their response."
Grimmjow's brow twitched. "I am. A little. But if I knock on their door and they turn me away, at least I know I can stop wasting my time and energy on them. Fuck it. Fine, I'll see if I can get in touch with them."
Ulquiorra pulled him close to nestle his face in his shoulders. Words couldn't express the pride he felt for this man. He didn't want any regrets in their new life together. He craved a new beginning with Grimmjow by his side.
Grimmjow's heart roared as his fingers hovered over the keys. He hadn't called his parents in years, but their phone number was scratched into his memory like writing in an old wood wall. The years had left it faded, but he would never forget it.
Fuck it. Just do it.
He pounded out the number and held his breath, feeling ready to throw up.
"Hello?"
His mother's voice robbed him of what little air he had. How long had it been since he'd heard her voice? A lump rose to his throat and he wrestled with his emotions.
"Hello?"
"It's me. Grimmjow."
"Oh. Oh, my . . ." Her voice trembled. Suddenly she called out, "Dear, it's Grimmjow!" Her voice was thick with emotion.
"Grimmjow? Son?" His father's gruff voice nearly undid him.
"Yeah. Yeah, it's me." Grimmjow paced, pressing his fingers into his eyes as he struggled to keep himself together.
Laughter rumbled into his ear, shaky and joyful. "Where are you? How are you?"
How did he even answer that question? "I'm fine, I'm—"
I'm alive, somehow. After what you people did to me.
The resentment gnawed at him. "I managed. It's been really, really fucking hard, but I managed. I'm alive."
His parents were silent. Had they really just expected him to be over it by now?
"Still gay, in case you were wondering."
"Grimmjow, we're so—"
"Look, I've got a lot I wanna say, and I'm not talking about this over the phone."
"Of course not! Come and meet us at that restaurant you used to like. What was it—"
Grimmjow remembered the ramen place as if it were yesterday. They'd gone every weekend before it all fell apart.
Stomach churning, he agreed to meet them. But if he at any point felt like they were going to justify and sweep their treatment of him under the rug, he was out and done. He pulled on his jacket. He grabbed Ulquiorra as he walked out of the bathroom. "You're coming with me."
"Are you sure they'll like that?" Ulquiorra asked, buttoning his shirt.
"Hell if I care. Maybe I'll make out with you in front of them just to piss them off."
He wouldn't say it aloud, but he needed support.
They drove to the restaurant and as the scent of fresh noodles and fish broth wafted to Grimmjow's nose, the memories swept over him. He'd had some of the best nights of his life in this noodle joint with his family. His dad shared stories about the buildings he was working on, his mother smiled radiantly while Grimmjow talked about school, all the while the fear grew within him. Would he ruin this happy moment if he told them his secret? Would they still love him?
He grasped Ulquiorra's hand and led him inside. He held his breath as he looked among the tables. They hadn't arrived yet. "Wait here," he said, shoving Ulquiorra into a booth.
"Are you sure they should meet me already?"
"Just sit here and be quiet." Grimmjow took a seat across the room and had three menus delivered. He realized he probably wouldn't eat, his stomach was queasy with nerves. The bell jingled. He looked up at his parents and it was as if he'd gone back in time. They were older now, but for a moment, he felt like the boy he'd once been. An unexpected eruption of feeling flooded through him.
At the sight of him, tears filled his mother's eyes. His father smiled in a way that was warm yet guarded.
"My boy," his mother wiped her eyes and went to meet him. "You've grown. My, you've grown."
Grimmjow rose on trembling legs and let his mother walk into his arms. She held him tight but Grimmjow's arms could only hover at her shoulders, afraid to commit in case it all crashed down. The warmth of her arms inspired memories from his boyhood. He'd forgotten how safe a mother's embrace could be. His throat closed up and despite all his doubts, he found himself holding her tight.
He had no idea how to be himself around them. They were little more than strangers to him. Once, they'd been the center of his universe. What were they now? Was it possible they could still have that? Grimmjow didn't even know if he wanted that. Over his mother's shoulder, he met Ulquiorra's gaze. This was for him, as much as it was for Grimmjow. He didn't want to begin their new life together with any regrets.
His father extended a hand and Grimmjow clasped it. "Son. How are you?" His father's voice trembled as he pulled Grimmjow close and held him tight. He still smelled like the same aftershave, though he'd traded hard muscle for a beer belly.
His father separated, wiping at the corners of his eyes and said nothing else.
"Shall we sit?" his mother asked.
They sat, his parents beside each other, Grimmjow in the booth facing them. His mouth was dry and he took a hearty gulp of water. Nothing helped. He was too nervous.
"How are you?" His mother asked, her eyes all aglow as she looked at him.
Grimmjow couldn't answer. He was remembering the last time she'd looked at him, her makeup smudged from crying tears of shame. He forced out an answer, "Okay. Okay..."
"I like your tattoos." His mother eyed them with a smile. It was a suspicious smile.
He couldn't figure out how to explain his tattoos. There was no way to simplify what he'd been through. Anger curled his fingers.
A waitress came to take their order. His mother ordered green tea. Grimmjow's lips twitched. She always did. His father ordered a Sapporo. "Should I make that two, Grimm?"
"No. Don't really like Sapporo."
His father frowned. "Really? You and I used to drink it all the time!"
"That's why." Grimmjow couldn't stop himself.
His father's eyes widened and he looked down at the table, lips pursed. His mother averted her eyes with a shaky sigh.
There was no way he could do this, no way he could bury the past and act as if it had never happened. "It just reminded me of you, Dad. I didn't wanna be reminded of you." His fingernails bit into the fabric of his jeans. He looked past them at Ulquiorra who watched him intently over his tea. Ulquiorra met his gaze. Without saying a word, Grimmjow knew that at the slightest hint things were going south, Ulquiorra would get up and leave with him. He didn't have to stay if he didn't want to.
"Grimmjow." His mother's eyes were shining with tears. "We're so—"
"What we did," his father cut in, scratching hopelessly at the back of his head. "It was wrong. It was just such a surprise—"
"You're damn right it was wrong." Grimmjow's voice trembled, his heart raced as all the years of anger and hurt reached a boiling point. "I went from cheap hotel and cheap hotel for months."
"We offered to send you money," his father began.
"That makes it all better, doesn't it, Dad? What you shoulda done was let me fucking come home and tell that you'd accept me no matter what, 'cause that's what families are supposed to do!"
His father bowed his head and Grimmjow only felt angrier when guilt bit him in the rear. "I know that now. If I could go back—"
"Well, you can't, and I'll be carrying all the years I spent on the street with me for my life. See these?" he wrenched up his sleeves and bore the entirety of the tattoos crawling up his wrist. "I didn't get them for pleasure. I had to join the yakuza. I was desperate."
His mother crumpled, her face in her hands. His father put his arm around her shoulders and said, "Grimmjow, we know we were wrong. We're here to tell you that we're sorry. We want to be a part of your life again."
Grimmjow didn't know what he wanted. Maybe someday, he could find it in him to open up his battered heart to his parents. But seeing them again, listening to them try and justify their behavior, opened up the wounds he'd thought had finally closed.
"Are you ready to order?" the waitress shuffled as she looked from one morose face to the other.
"No. I'm not staying." Grimmjow stood.
"Grimmjow, please, wait!" His mother and father pursued him to the door. Grimmjow strode to Ulquiorra's table and extended a hand. Ulquiorra stood and offered a bow while his parents looked on in confusion.
"I'm Ulquiorra Cifer, Grimmjow's—"
"He's my boyfriend." Grimmjow put his arm around Ulquiorra's shoulders and held tight. "If you wanna be a part of my life, then you've gotta accept him, too. Because he's gonna be a big part of it; we're moving to Thailand and we're gonna get married. If you don't like that, I really don't care. If you can do that, then we can talk about starting over."
Ulquiorra clasped his hand and held tight.
His father nodded his understanding, head hanged low like a sad dog. He looked Grimmjow in the eyes and said, "I can do that."
"Of course, dear." His mother bowed her head to Ulquiorra. "Pleased to meet you, and thank you for looking after our boy."
"It's a privilege," Ulquiorra replied, his eyes warm.
Emotion clawed at Grimmjow's throat. Perhaps this was the start of something. He grabbed Ulquiorra's hand and with a final glance at his parents, he left the restaurant.
They drove far away enough until Grimmjow had to pull over. He slumped against the handlebars as wave after wave of suffocated emotions came to the surface. Ulquiorra held on tight to his shoulders. "I'm proud of you," Ulquiorra told him, his lips warm and gentle against Grimmjow's ear.
Grimmjow reached around to grab his hand. He squeezed tight and said nothing.
"How are you feeling?" Ulquiorra asked.
Grimmjow raised his head, unafraid of the emotions laid bare in his eyes. He stood and enveloped Ulquiorra in his arms.
"Alright, actually. Said all I needed to say. I really wanted to curse 'em out more."
Ulquiorra rubbed his shoulders. "You handled it well."
Grimmjow pulled back to gaze into emerald eyes, then he touched his lips to Ulquiorra's.
"I hadn't realized we'd decided on Thailand," Ulquiorra said, as he reclined on the leather seat, looking damn near irresistible.
"Seriously? We talked about this for, like, an hour!"
Ulquiorra chuckled at his exasperation. "I'm not opposed to the idea. I just wasn't sure we were on the same page."
Grimmjow grinned. "And are we?"
"It sounds idyllic."
"Use real words."
Ulquiorra stood, looping his arms around Grimmjow's neck. They kissed, Ulquiorra nibbled at his lower lip. "I love it."
Grimmjow's arms wound around his shoulders and he leaned their foreheads together, unable to wipe the grin off his face. "Now you're talkin', pretty boy."