Chapter Eighty Five:
Ichigo was perched a little precariously on the rooftop of his apartment block. It was a feat that as a Shinigami, would have been no cause for concern. A fall wouldn't kill him. As a Human however it gave him a little surge of adrenaline in knowing he was potentially in danger.
Arms folded around his legs as he glared over the town, he released a sharp puff. He'd been doing alright. He'd been coping. At the very least he'd been able to manage the feelings that came from being severed from the friends and family he had in Soul Society, by thrusting himself back into the lives of the friends he'd had as a child. But now everything had burst free. Seeing the Espada, seeing them alive and well and healthy and free... Because of his actions. He was happy for them, so happy. But he envied them. Almost to the point of loathing.
They were free to wander and live where he should have been. They were able to mingle with the Shinigami. They were able to find new meaning in their whole new existence. And he was trapped in the past. Everything he had been doing was about damage limitation. It had been about ignoring the intense, burning feeling of loss brewing in his heart.
He missed Byakuya. He missed Rukia, and Renji. He missed Hisagi, Kira, Matsumoto and Hinamori. He missed the excitement of Seireitei. He missed the routine of being a Fukutaichou. He'd never considered himself to be selfish, but he missed being important. So many people had relied on him, they had needed him, wanted him, they'd been desperate for him to defeat Aizen because he was the only one capable of doing it. And now... No one needed him. Not really.
It was torture, every second he spent alone. His mind was so quiet, so silent, so empty. He'd grown fond of Shiro's presence, of his insanity. He had grown to appreciate Zangetsu's calming balm and wisdom. He missed the noise. The bustle. The weight of multiple entities in his head. It was too quiet. Too still. He didn't like being the only one rattling around up there. It was lonely. He was lonely.
There was a sick, tiny part of him lingering in the very back of his mind that acknowledged, reluctantly, that if he had stuck with Aizen he wouldn't be in this situation. He'd be a God by now. Ruling over one of the three worlds as intended.
"But you'd still be an emotionless zombie, you'd have killed all your friends, and you'd still be Aizen's pet." He muttered aloud, plopping his head into one of his hands as he stared morosely over the rooftops, "Would you really have preferred that to this?"
"Do you normally sit around talkin' to yourself, kid?"
Ichigo twisted sharply, eyes wide as he stared upwards and caught a flash of electric blue, "Grimmjow?!"
"Yo." The Sexta said, sitting down next to him with a groan.
"I... Thought you'd left with the others." He muttered.
"I was meant to," the other shrugged, "But I could see how cut up you were when we had to leave... Wanted to make sure you were doin' alright I guess."
"Would you be?" Ichigo snapped, he instantly regretted it and groaned, letting his head fall forwards onto his knees, "I'm a jerk."
"No arguments from me." Grimmjow snorted, "But no, I wouldn't be. And I haven't been."
"Huh?"
"I've been where you are, kinda. Told Kuchiki this story before, at least in part..." The Sexta shrugged again, scanning the view, "Going to Soul Society as an additional spy for Aizen was kinda like a last chance for me."
Ichigo frowned, "What do you mean?"
"Well, I dunno if you've noticed but I'm a bit of a loose cannon." The blue haired Arrancar smirked slightly, "Anyway, I pushed one too many buttons, disobeyed one too many orders... Got a couple of Fracción killed... Tōsen cut one of my arms off and incinerated it. No comin' back from that. I was thrown outta the Espada."
"Seriously?" The strawberry found himself looking at Grimmjow's arms, as if trying to see which one wasn't real.
"Mm." There was a nod and a sigh, "Aizen used his half of the Hōgyoku to restore it on the agreement I go to Soul Society and pretend to be a Shinigami for the remainder of his plan."
"At least you got back what you were missing."
"Yeah, after eight months." Grimmjow glared at him, "You think that makes up for what it felt like to be cast out by everyone I considered family? To go from powerful, to pathetic in the blink of an eye? To spend eight months fending off unwanted attention from the shit bags I'd pissed off?"
Ichigo flinched under the severity of his stare and gulped, "I guess not... You don't just forget the feeling..."
"When you get kicked out of the Espada you become fair game to any Hollows around." The blue haired male stated with surprising softness, "If you ain't strong enough to fight them off... Then you're in shit street. Havin' one arm to fight 'em off with doesn't exactly give you much of a chance. Even less of a chance if one of 'em is an Espada."
"You..."
"There was a reason I hated Ulquiorra more than any other Hollow around." Grimmjow interrupted him, looking him dead in the eye, "He made a very solid point of puttin' me in my place. I'm glad the fucker's a vegetable. I'm just disappointed I didn't get to do it."
"You mean... He..."
"Yeah." The blue haired male interrupted again, letting out a breath as he looked across the town, "Twice actually. Apparently once wasn't quite enough humiliation."
"Grimm..." Ichigo swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult, "How did you cope? Losing your position? Losing... Your dignity?"
"Well, I didn't have a strong ass lunatic lingerin' in my head to fight for my honour." He chuckled throatily, "I just picked myself up and crawled off into a dark space. I got angry. I got moody. I pretended it hadn't happened. But... Even though we were enemies at the time, when I realised Ulquiorra was goin' after you... I wanted to hide. I didn't want to help you. But at the same time I couldn't just do nothin'. I didn't want you to go through what I did."
"Thanks."
"Don't thank me, I didn't get there in time." He muttered.
"You tried." Ichigo shrugged, "It must have brought back memories for you... But you still came to try and help. That's enough."
Grimmjow sighed deeply, looking away, "Whatever. Look I didn't come here to take a trip down memory lane, dunno how this even happened. I wanted to make sure you were okay. Even thought you're Human now... You're still our Cero, you always will be. I don't wanna hear about you doin' something dumb alright?"
"I'm not going to do anything dumb." The strawberry offered a small smile, "I thought I was doing better than I am. That's all. I miss everyone. And no matter how much I love my friends here, it isn't the same."
"I know."
"Grimmjow.." Ichigo hesitated, "I didn't get a chance to ask earlier at the club... How many... How many people did we lose?"
"From the battle?" He asked, "Nnoitra of course, Soi-Fon's Bankai got him good. Unohana and Hachigen tried to save him but it was too late. And... The big Taichou... Komamura. He was injured worse than first thought, he succumbed to his wounds and passed away not long after you defeated Aizen."
"I see." He ran a hand through his hair, "And everyone's coping okay?"
"Eh... Hard to say. People are takin' it all differently. It was worse when they found out about the people Izanshi had killed and taken the forms of. That midget Taichou with the white hair, Hitsugaya... He's not doin' too good. He's barely spoken to anyone since the memorial services. He just works and sleeps." Grimmjow tapped a finger to his chin in thought, "Komamura's second in command is pretty cut up, but he's doin' alright."
"And the Espada?"
"We're alright." He mused, "Nnoitra was a bastard, but I kinda miss his loud mouth. Still, at least my cats are safe."
"You took them to Soul Society?"
"Of course I did. They've got their own bedroom in your mansion." He preened, smiling toothily, "And the Shinigami have gotten used to 'em as well so they can wander freely around the Estate."
"Sounds like a good life." Ichigo smiled as well.
They fell silent for a while. Both staring at the sky. Ichigo was sure he saw a shooting star but Grimmjow insisted it was a plane. It was only when the strawberry began to yawn that the blue haired Espada got to his feet.
"You need sleep." He said gruffly, "And I need to get back."
"I guess so." He agreed reluctantly as he got to his feet, "I've got work again tomorrow."
"Come here, I'll give you a hand down safely. Last thing I need is you going ass over tit tryin' to get back to your room." Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo without giving him time to argue, easily manoeuvring them down onto the balcony of the strawberry's room.
"Thanks."
"Anytime, kid."
Ichigo opened the sliding doors and hovered in the entrance to his flat, turning slightly, "You... Have feelings for Byakuya, don't you? I could sense it in Las Noches, the way you were with him... And the way you were in the fake Karakura town..."
Grimmjow seemed to tense at the assessment, clicking his tongue against his teeth restlessly, "Yeah... I do. But I ain't in the habit of disrespecting people I like... I won't be makin' any moves on him. You don't need to worry."
"I'm not worried." He said quietly, "He shouldn't have to be alone... If it... If it made you both happy... I'd be okay with it."
"What?" The Sexta seemed genuinely startled, "What are you even... Don't be stupid."
"Mm." The strawberry looked into his apartment slowly, "Thanks for coming back to see me. It was good to talk."
"Don't worry about it." Grimmjow replied, albeit with an uncertainty to his tone, "Just... Don't give up okay? None of us want to pick up the pieces if Byakuya hears that you've gone and died. It'd break him. And I don't wanna hear anymore of this dumb shit about Byakuya movin' on."
"I'm not going to do anything dumb, Grimmjow." He said again.
"Good."
"Grimmjow?"
"Yeah?" The Espada raised an eyebrow.
"Look after him for me."
A huff was followed by a sincere sounding "you have my word" as Grimmjow turned and jumped from the balcony, disappearing down the street without a second glance.
Ichigo watched as the Sexta departed. He watched blue hair fade into the lurking shadows of night lingering between the buildings and sighed deeply. He wanted to sink back into feeling miserable, but he couldn't quite manage it. Grimmjow had a unique way of boosting morale, he decided.
He stripped off, throwing his uniform into the chair in the corner of his bedroom before sliding under the covers. Ichigo flopped face down, allowing the pillows to slowly suffocate him until he couldn't bare it any longer and rolled over. Staring up at the ceiling, the former Shinigami considered everything that had happened that evening.
He could only imagine how much Hitsugaya was suffering, it had been a long running joke among their friendship group that the white haired Taichou was hopelessly in love with his childhood friend, but she had never looked at him twice. All because of Aizen's influence over her. Renji would be beating himself up for not noticing any kind of difference in her personality of behaviour, as would Kira and Hisagi most likely. But then, no one had realised. Izanshi was skilled in his art.
Iba would mourn Komamura, the man's way of life and way of looking at things would be missed by everyone around him. He had always been such a strong influence of positivity and seriousness, with kindness that stretched across Divisions when it was needed. Ichigo was sure that Iba would continue to live by Komamura's code.
Nnoitra was, as Grimmjow had stated many times, a bastard. Ichigo had never liked him, Shiro hadn't been keen either. His treatment of Nelliel had been abhorrent and his attitude towards his comrades deplorable. But he had been one of them. He had joined the fight to help during the escape from Hueco Mundo. His missing personality would be hugely noticeable, impossible to ignore.
Ichigo sighed deeply and ran a hand down his face, rolling onto his side and curling around his pillows in a foetal position. He wondered what Byakuya was doing. Was he still awake? Still at the office, filing paperwork? Or was he at the mansion? Tucked up in bed with a book? In the study doing some kind of out of hours work?
If he squeezed his eyes shut tightly enough he could almost imagine Byakuya's arms around him, encircling and protective. Hands sliding against his skin in that slow yet tantalising way that he had perfected. He could feel the puff of cool breath on his ear, whisperings of affection and seduction. Lips gliding across his jawline.
The strawberry bit his lip and silenced a groan, regretting the route his mind had taken as soon as he felt heat pooling in the pit of his belly. He was barely in the mood to deal with the ache now making itself known between his legs.
Teeth nibbling at his lip restlessly as he glared at the wall, he allowed his right hand to slip down beneath the covers, fingers coiling around his length. He let out a low hiss almost immediately as his body protested the lack of attention he had given it since becoming Human. He was so sensitive from the starvation of sexual contact... He finally understood why Shiro had struggled to resist fucking Byakuya in Las Noches, he too had been starved at the time.
He allowed his fingers to trail a blaze of sensation along the sensitive skin, eyes slipping closed as he tried to imagine Byakuya's fingers closing over his own. His breath hitched in his throat, almost able to feel the nobleman's lips closing over his jugular, sucking teasingly and roughly, determined to leave a mark there that would ensure everyone knew who he belonged to.
He remembered the first time they'd ended up having sex in Byakuya's office in the barracks. It had been rushed, desperate and rough. Neither of them had managed to get any further than the desk to lock the door before feeling the urgent need to take and be taken. Byakuya had gripped his wrists firmly in his grasp and twisted him face down over the mahogany wood, one free hand fumbling relentlessly with the troublesome material of their uniforms. The feeling of his lover entering him had never gotten dull, it was as fresh and good as the very first night. The way their bodies had fitted together, the way they had slotted into place. The way Byakuya was able to hit all the right spots, and was always seemingly determined to do so as often as possible while still drawing out the union.
For someone as composed, serene and borderline indifferent towards everyone around him, Byakuya reverted to a free and hot-headed creature during sex. He was firm, powerful and commanding. But tender, loving and unabashed.
With a groan, Ichigo remembered how he'd once believed no one could make him feel as good as Aizen. How wrong he had been. He was rarely pleased to be wrong, but he was practically elated to admit it about Byakuya. If there was ever a reason to re-form an addiction to physical pleasure it was the skilful loving of Byakuya Kuchiki.
Gasping as orgasm washed over him without warning, he heard himself cry out his lover and fiancé's name breathlessly, his back arching as a slow and steady warming feeling flooded his senses, leaving him panting softly and covered in a thin layer of sweat.
Ichigo's teeth clenched and he rolled onto his stomach and huffed at the unsatisfied feeling that followed his release, wiping his hand absent-mindedly on the sheets. As good as it had felt in the moment, it just left him hungry for something more. Something genuine. Something that could connect him to the Soul he missed more than any other. Imagining Byakuya's touch was bland compared to the real thing.
He squeezed his eyes shut at the sudden sting of tears threatening to spill. He wouldn't let them free. He hadn't shed a single tear since losing his powers, he wouldn't dare start now. He couldn't. If they started they might never stop. He'd made his peace with what he'd done. He had to live with it.
Anger bubbled up. He knew it was coming, it was like a reflex. Whenever the sadness reared its head, the anger wasn't far behind. Whatever it took to keep himself going. He'd do it. He had to live the life he'd chosen. Maybe it would be kinder to move on. To stop looking over his shoulder hoping that one day he'd see Byakuya waiting for him.
He rolled over again. Staring at the ceiling. He lifted a hand and allowed his fingertips to brush his temple, eyes slipping shut as he remembered the feeling of nervousness the first time he'd dared to ware Byakuya's gift of a single kenseikan in public. He'd do anything to feel it there again now.
"It's not going to happen." He hissed, "Get over yourself."
