Author's note: Wow. Thank you for the kind reviews, likes and follows. I appreciate it ;D
Week 9
I'm sitting in my last subject for the week inwardly fuming, trying to figure out if I'm being punished by the soul king for existing. Does he do that sort of thing? Can he manipulate fate? Can he be so specific?
I've had it up to here with this! He's constantly following me around everywhere I go. Well, almost everywhere. I had the guys make sure he didn't follow me into the toilet at school and when he followed me home that first day, he scared the shit out of Karin when I got home (I guess she took up the spirit seeing mantle, she didn't tell me that). So my Dad, who already got the story from Urahara, refused to let him in the house in his Espada form. Thank GOD because I don't think I'd been able handle that blue haired asshole watching me shower and sleep. Ha, that must have been awful for him last week; I didn't step one foot outside my house the whole winter break!
I can tell he sits by me at lunch; the wide berth given to the right of me gave that away. And, when all of us are hanging out together, he interjects himself into conversations. It's so annoying. Mostly because I wish I could hear what the hell he's saying and sometimes it's because I can tell he makes the others feel uncomfortable. I absolutely refuse to acknowledge him. Well I can't hear or see him so I don't have to, right? Maybe that contributes to the un-comfortableness, but I don't give a flying fuck. Inoue does a good job of explaining cultural references and etiquette and when I see Inoue blush by some obvious crass remark he makes, Chado covers his mouth with his hand, whispering into his ear some tidbit of info too sensitive for her to hear. All he does with Ishida is bicker. One-sided bickering is rather amusing. Grimmjow must say some terribly over the top things because even I've never made Ishida sputter over his words as much as he does. I certainly don't interject by changing the subject in those instances, I'm hoping Ishida gets him so mad he lashes out and revokes the contract that blue bastard has with Urahara.
He tries to ask me questions through the gang. I ignore those too. I'm not giving this guy any satisfaction that I'm accepting him being here. I just change the subject. I'm hoping that's annoying him to the brink of destruction. I never would have guessed this guy could be in such control of his emotions. I thought by now he'd crack and Urahara would send him packing.
He certainly gets me back, the fucking asshole, making me look like an accident-prone dumbass. I've been walking into a lot of invisible brick walls and tripped over numerous empty spaces in the past month. I just can't seem to get riled up over it though, I don't see the point.
He's always sitting or standing too close to me so I bump my arms into him and have to scoot away or he's pulling me away from people he doesn't like me talking to, like some guy asking directions or some guy wanting to know if I need help with something at a store. Case in point, Keigo and Mizuiro. After they got over their initial wet panted shock, they tried to act their usual selves. That clingy kid falls waaaaay before he even gets near me now, I think Grimmjow learned to throw his reiatsu or something and poor Mizuiro. Even after I profusely apologized about missing the movie and I thought I was forgiven, Grimmjow has seemed to put a strain on that relationship by always steering me away from any conversations with him. Inoue and Chado have delicately explained about my blue pain in the ass stalker, but I still think he's so mad.
Tatsuki is furious and she says if he ever gets his human body he'd better run for the hills in fear of the ass whooping she's going to dish out to him. I'm contemplating trying to convince Urahara into letting me have a substitute for the brawl with Grimmjow. I know she'll have a better chance of surviving than me.
I just haven't the will. I'm so weak and pathetic. Maybe the Espada could just put me out of my misery. I'm trying so hard to shake this depression and I wish I could with all my heart but it's hard to make a heart work when most of it is missing. It's not helping the matter by being constantly teased and bullied by an invisible douche bag.
I've been talking to myself an enormous amount lately. I've spaced out so much this time during my inner monologue I just realize I've already left school grounds a while ago and am about to step into the middle of a busy road.
A horn blares and I'm yanked back so hard to the sidewalk I skid along the concrete a good couple of feet. My palms have road rash and my sleeve is torn at my left elbow, blood seeping from the deep scrape there as well. I get yanked up by the front of my shirt and shaken a good few times. I can feel my ghost's hot breath in my face and I know I'm being screamed at. Tears well at the corners of my eyes and all the pent up anger and worthlessness I've been holding in since Grimmjow's arrival rushes out in a horrid display of verbal diarrhea.
"You should have just let the fucking car hit me!" I scream at the top of my lungs as I knock invisible hands away from my shirt and start running across the street. I run a few more blocks and duck into an alley so I can continue the verbal assault on my invisible savior in relative obscurity so I don't look mental to pedestrians on the busy sidewalks.
"I have no fucking clue as to why you are still here! On a bad day, with my head in the clouds and my headphones on, I could have noticed that car with my reiatsu, but now every little fucking thing is a chore! What the fuck do you expect from me now that I'm like this?"
My screaming would have continued if not for the invisible hand closing over my mouth. I think Grimmjow is just trying to shut me up and I have an angry rebuttal ready for when my mouth is let go. In the sudden quiet I hear a scuffle and weak groan coming from a doorway about thirty paces in front of me.
I see a knife and a throat and a grab and a shush and a whimper and a tongue before I gather my wits and still my body seething in disgust at the assault I'm witnessing. The woman is about ten years older than me, her raven hair pulled back into a purple scrunchie, her hands in work gloves pinned over her hat and goggle covered head. My eyes lock onto her fierce but pleading grey eyes and my mind and heart is pulled in a way I haven't felt for months.
My eyes harden with unbridled wrath towards the one who dares to take advantage of any being. I don't know this woman, but does it matter? She is in need and my need to protect is swimming to the surface, finally triggered after all these long days of self-deprecation. I realize it's not just a choice, it's an instinct ingrained into my soul and I cannot deny what my body and mind is drawn towards. Even though I may not hold the same strength I did when I was a Shinigami, I will try with all my might to save this unfortunate woman.
I clasp the hand at my mouth. My gaze is not pleading, it's demanding for the removal of the blue haired Espada's hand from my lips and instead of being denied and dragged away from the situation as I thought, I'm let go. Without much more thought to my unexpected release, I stalk a few more paces towards the criminal and his victim.
The man hears my footfalls and turns his focus on me long enough for the woman to knee him in the gut and wrench her wrists from his grasp. She takes her one arm and knocks his hand away with the knife and the other palm thrusts upwards connecting swiftly with her attackers nose. Nice. She didn't look like a pushover. This calculating man must have taken her off guard.
He groans holding his bleeding nose, "You stupid bitch," as she runs full force in the opposite direction.
When she's far enough away, she turns back and yells, "Get outa there, kid! He's not worth you getting killed over!" She turns the corner and I hear her yelling for help.
On that admission, my ghost tugs at my left arm in a pleading motion. I raise my hand in a staying command behind me and again I'm let go.
The man flashes his muddled blue eyes at me in contempt as I finally get to assess this vile man squaring his shoulders to me. He's about 6'1", perfectly disheveled long spiky black hair with blonde streaks. His pants are skinny and black with shiny black buckled motorcycle boots and a white V-neck under a black leather jacket with patches. His exposed neck strategically marked with swirling black tattoos dipping under his shirt collar. The young man is covered in muscle, but not as much as my strapping invisible stalker. He is predatorily handsome, probably using his looks to make himself unsuspecting and appealing to his victims.
He wipes the trickling blood away from under his nose and flicks it with offhanded disgust. He points his blade towards me, "Wrong move. Your gonna fuckin' pay for interrupting me, Pretty Boy. I'm gonna destroy that fine young flesh of yours before I watch you bleed out."
With that threat he lunges, swinging his blade across my neck. I lean back and miss his swipe. He stabs at my chest, I pivot to my right and he flies past me. He turns and swings his fist at my left cheek and I duck. Every move he makes to harm me I dodge. A wave of euphoria rushes over my body as I realize I'm not as helpless as I made myself out to be. All of the skills I learned while I fought increasingly stronger opponents had been stored away so that I could access them when I needed them most. All this time, all I've thought about was how weak I was compared to the strength I possessed when I faced inhuman foes, but I never once imagined my skills would benefit me in the human world with a human opponent, with a being on my level. My heart is filled up with the knowledge my power is closer to me than I thought it was, lighting a new fire in my eyes and turning the corner of my lips upwards in a confident smile.
My change in demeanor infuriates the calculating criminal and he rushes my body. His thrusting knife aims for my stomach and I step slightly to my right. His arm is captured between my left side and arm and I hook under his locking it in place. My right fist connects with his left shoulder as I hook my right foot around the back of his calf and sweep his leg making him fall backwards to the ground. I turn to face his outstretched arm still in my hand and hit his forearm with my right fist, forcing the knife out of his hand with the fracturing blow. He cries out in pain as I back away, lightly panting from the exertion I haven't put my body through in a while.
"Y-you fuckin' broke my arm! You're fuckin' dead, kid! I'm gonna destroy you!" The prick tries to get up and I don't normally kick a guy when he's down so I watch him struggle to get up. As he's trying to roll up off the pavement with one good arm, I hear a grunt as his head snaps to the right and he's knocked out cold. Obviously my silent stalker has no qualms about hitting a downed man.
I snort at the action thinking to myself that Grimmjow finally overstepped his bounds by breaking the no hurting humans rule. That's most likely why he didn't interfere with the fight before this moment.
"That was pretty dumb Grimm-"
I'm thrown back towards the wall of the alleyway with such force the bricks behind my head and back shatter. Dust and debris fall on my shoulders. I'm in such shock I don't think my body has caught up with my mind and I wait for the explosion of pain my head is about to have from the skull crushing blow I just received, but it doesn't come. My head never touched the brick wall. There's something between my body and the wall. Someone. Grimmjow.
I feel his arms wrapped around me, his body pressed against me, cradling my head and body and holding it tight. My breath hitches and my heart beats faster and my bones tremble. No one has ever touched me like this before. His arm slips out from behind my back and I feel his fingers softly pulling open my eyelids, as if he's inspecting my sclera and iris and then fingertips ghost across my eyes, lightly flicking my eyelashes, making me close them in a flutter. His finger presses against my temple then I feel a gentle tap tap tap of my forehead. Both hands move to cradle my face. One of his thumbs grazes across my lips. My face feels so hot. I'm panting. Both thumbs press lightly at the corners, lifting my mouth up into a small smile. I feel a large hand glide down to my chest, point to my heart, then he presses his palm to feel it beating. The other hand glides down my right arm, lifts my wrist, and with both his hands molds my fingers into making a fist. It's pulled into a motion that connects my fist into his palm, his fingers clasping my fist tightly. His free hand goes back to pressing against my heart then leaves my chest for a moment only to press against-
"Unh, oh my God." I had forgotten how fighting gets me hard. My body is on fire now and trembling with a fear and thrill I have never experienced. I feel I'm about to pass out. He cups my cock tighter and thumbs the head sending my body into an uncontrollable shutter.
"Shh-shhhiit... Grimmjow," He thumbs it again and my knees start to quiver and buckle underneath me. I feel his body come closer and his hot breath on my mouth. Oh please! Don't let my first kiss be with an invisible spirit! "Ss-stop."
Just when I'm sure his lips are going to connect, two officers come barreling around the corner. I turn my head towards the commotion and my body is let go to slump to the ground in a dazed sort of awe.
"There he is! The guy knocked out! That's the guy who attacked me! And that's my savior! If he hadn't had come along I'd probably be dead! My God, thank you," the woman kneels in front of me, wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me with all her might choking my stupor and arousal out of me.
One officer checks the assailant's vitals and the other puts his hand on my shoulder, "You ok, kid?" Dammit, I hate being called kid.
"Hey! This young man just took on a thug with a knife on his own! Don't call him kid! Have a little respect."
"Uh, you called me kid before you left, lady!"
"Yeah, yeah. That's because I thought you'd run away like a good little kid, but wow. You sure know how to take care of yourself." Her eyes suddenly grow mean and squinty and then she's smacking me on the back of my head, "What the hell were you thinking, kid! You coulda been killed! If my son ever... Gah! Don't ever do that again, you hear me!"
"Oye! Make up your mind! Sorry, ok!" Ouch, that fuckin' smarted. I rub my head. She softens her eyes and it reminds me of the look my mom used to give me after she caught me doing something mischievous.
"My name's Unagiya Ikumi."
"Kurosaki Ichigo, nice to meet you. I mean, not nice, not under these circumstances, but... Ah, hell-"
"Language, Ichigooooo chaaaaaaaan!"
"Chan? Chan!"
"Hehe, anyways, I understand. This isn't a nice circumstance. I was delivering a package to the back entrance of this business here when I realized this place was closed. That guy came out from behind the dumpster and rushed me. The scariest part is that this was all set up for me to be here. I've never seen this guy before and he must have been watching me for a while. I'm always careful and aware of my surroundings, how this guy could have gotten a jump on me-"
"We're going to have to take you down to the station to get your statements. You can call your parents when you get there, kid."
"Sure thing, let me just gather my things." I tell the cop and I walk over to my bag I unconsciously left at the mouth of the alleyway. I bend down to pick it up with my back to the group hiding my hushed conversation and scowl."
"I sure hope you get your gigai soon, stalker, cuz I've got a few bones to pick with you. And if you lay a finger on me one more time, in malice or otherwise until I can see you properly to defend myself I'll be sure to tell Urahara of your little indiscretion and have him send for Kenpachi to throw you back to Hueco Mundo with ten less fingers, ya got that, you blue haired pain in my ass? When I'm done with these officers, I'll meet you at Urahara's. I've got a few questions myself now that I think about it and I might as well say hi, after all it's been a while."
I stand after I pretend for long enough to be tying my shoe and head back towards the group with a new glint in my eye and spring in my step. Just when I'm close enough, my foot catches on, for the love of God, nothing! And I fall right into a purple raglan shirt filled with ample breasts.
"Son of a bitch!" Aaaaand I get smacked right on the cheek of my fire engine red face.
"Hey! Watch your language, kid!"
What a fucker.
