Author's note: Happy Valentine's Day
17 Months
Chapter 21: Carnal Education
Week 25
Grimmjow slunk along the rocks of their hiding place, spying the large hybrid as it lumbered at the entrance of the cave. The beast had started to lose interest in the decoy, letting its eyes wander back down the larger path in the opposite direction.
He hoped his instincts were correct and the creature would play his part perfectly. It depended on how prevalent the hybrid's animalistic side was. His other scheme seemed to work, if this one didn't, well, there wasn't enough time to make a plan B.
Grimmjow looked back. Ichigo stayed three paces behind with all the obedience of a sulking German Shepherd. Playing the follower did not agree with Ichigo's headstrong will when it came to warfare. It was a fascinating contradiction to his amenable bedroom manners. Grimmjow knew that just proved how great a measure of trust Ichigo had in him. He surged with pride and confidence at the thought and then turned the corner out into the open with more gusto than he had a moment before.
Grimmjow, with Ichigo's long sword in hand, strode to the center of the clearing between the two tall ridges. The colossal creature noticed him from the corner of its eye. It whipped around and furiously howled at Grimmjow for tricking him the way he did. Ichigo came out from behind the rock wall and stood behind and to the left of Grimmjow as tame and relaxed as he could through his petulant scowl, only making eye contact with the back of Grimmjow's head as instructed.
A rustling came from above and the sound of a door closing echoed off the rock walls, "Urahara, your bathroom is so far away from this room...ok, now what did I miss?"
"And that concludes the halftime show portion of this event."
"Halftime show? Aw. Can I replay it later?" Kurosaki senior pouts.
A large amount of coughing ensued from Grimmjow's benefactor. He cleared his throat, "What is this interesting development we have before us, now? Direct confrontation lead by our brave, blue hero? It will be interesting to see what sort of tactic was, ahem, 'discussed' during the re-groping."
"You mean, regrouping." Kuroski senior corrected.
"That's what I said." Urahara commented with a knowing smirk in his voice. Grimmjow thanked the lucky fuckin' stars above that at least his soon to be father-in-law didn't witness the sexual spectacle. He could almost feel the heat of Ichigo's embarrassment wafting from behind him.
The creature pounded its feet, coming closer to its opponents. Grimmjow took a defensive and protective stance, thrusting his left arm back toward Ichigo and putting the sword between both of them. Just a little closer, any second now, Grimmjow kept repeating in his mind. Since they were using no reiatsu, a closer proximity must be needed to pick up the pheromones covering Ichigo, he reasoned.
The creature leaned lower and snarled closer to the group. As it breathed back into its mouth, it must have caught the scent of Grimmjow's pheromones coming off of Ichigo, because it shook its body in an uncontrolled shiver, like its hackles had risen, and it stared at Ichigo with a lecherous glint in its eye. The distracted mutant started salivating profusely and breathing erratically.
"That's your cue, babe." Grimmjow called out over his shoulder.
"Like I didn't get that!" Ichigo huffed under his breath. "The things I do for you. Ugh, this is so weird and wrong."
Ichigo backed away slowly. The distracted creature flung Grimmjow to the side with a wind-knocking backhand. He rolled along the ground, kicking up silt along the way. Ichigo, nervous for his blue haired lover, stared wide-eyed at the dust cloud as he backed further away from the oncoming hybrid. The dust settled enough to see Grimmjow warily and painfully picking himself off the ground. Even though it was discussed this was most likely going to happen, it was still hard to watch for Ichigo, not being able help yet, but he also had his part to play.
Just as Grimmjow predicted, the hollow hybrid put itself between the partners, establishing intentions to steal a coveted mate. Nine hundred and Ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine times out of one million, in a confrontation such as this, the mate waits patiently, then defers to the victorious. As Grimmjow explained: In the world of hollows, why should one put themselves in danger? For the sake of love? There are rarely such romantic tendencies in Hueco Mundo. You go with the winner to survive, not to be treated better or cared for in some romanticized involvement.
But the relationship Grimmjow holds with Ichigo was not a normalcy for Hueco Mundo. As soon as the hybrid started to turn, to inflict the final blow against his opponent, the committed party unexpectedly struck the blind-sided foe. Ichigo went for a side-splitting cut with the short sword hidden behind his back, forcing the hybrid to flinch away and instinctively cover its side, leaving an opening for Grimmjow to strike directly into the hybrid's heart with the longer sword.
The unfortunate hybrid went down with a crumbling screech. Grimmjow staggered out from behind the downed hybrid with a bloody sword and panting breath, "we," pant pant, "we got 'im... I knew," pant pant, "we could get 'im." He dropped down on all fours mid-walk towards Ichigo, "whew. I gotta catch my breath... That was a pretty good hit... Even tho I knew... It was coming."
Ichigo hung his shoulders a bit lower than usual. He didn't quite feel comfortable with deceiving the hybrid creature. It didn't seem quite as honorable an act as he was used to. The small glimpse he just received of Grimmjow's life in the stark, desert world gave him a pang of empathy for his cunning warrior lover. "You're lucky to be alive. This plan had so many holes in it, we could have both been toast. I'm thankful you just got the wind knocked out of ya and not lost a limb or somethin'. It could have been your favorite limb and then you woulda really been sorry!" Ichigo smirked.
"Oh man...don't even joke about that," Grimmjow puffed from the ground, "ya'd be just as devastated as I would be," he chuckled but a stabbing pain seared through his ribs and lungs, "hsssssss, I think I'm gonna need another moment here," the blue haired man hissed through clenched teeth.
A soft, deep groan came from behind Grimmjow. The hybrid stirred and raised his head from the ground. Orange and Blue froze in place. How could this be? His aim was true. Yet, the creature was stirring.
"Uh, oh." A worrisome voice came from above, "did I forget to tell you boys? You need to decapitate the hybrid completely to vanquish it. Oops. A minor faux pas on my part."
The young men stared at each other for an infinitesimal moment, yet they communicated all either needed to know about what was about to go down. Ichigo poised motionless as the hybrid turned lethargically towards Grimmjow. He began a running sprint just when the creature was about to make eye contact with his half-prone lover. The Blue haired warrior wincingly raised his sword and tucked his head right before Ichigo grabbed the steel and planted a sure foot on the bluenette's back, launching towards the giant hybrid.
The creature began to right itself, but hadn't taken its weight off its arms from the ground yet. With the short sword in his left, Ichigo stabbed the hybrid right above the right side of its collar bone. The creature raised its head in howl. With the long sword in his right, he slashed with all his might at the neck of his unfortunate foe. With the skilled practice of a seasoned warrior, Ichigo sliced between vertebra and sinew with ease. Before letting go, Ichigo swung his legs up and kicked the creatures jaw, forcing its head to roll over its left shoulder and away from Grimmjow beneath.
As the hybrid's head hit the ground, its body began the familiar disintegration all hollows performed once their time was up. After the body and head were no more, a glistening pink sphere lay where the head came to rest. Ichigo walked over to pick it up. He stared at the seemingly insignificant marble before clutching it in his fist, cocking his arm back and launching it as far as he could throw it, huffing, "dick," under his breath as he watched it arc out of sight.
"Well, that was uncalled for!" Urahara exclaimed after watching the artificial soul pill break into little shards after it hit the ground. "All that research material, poof!"
"Ugh, There there." Ichigo's father patronized as the sound of patting was heard over the loud speaker.
Grimmjow had watched it all. He'd turned around and sat on his haunches with his hands on his thighs, opening his chest for deeper breaths. He beheld the athletic prowess and grace of his fiery warrior as he slew the savage beast like a shining white knight coming to his rescue. Inwardly, Grimmjow couldn't help but cringe at his less than macho thoughts about his other half's heroic display. "What the hell is happening to me?" He inwardly stated as he smacked his forehead then dug the heel of his hand in one of his eye sockets.
As he continued his habit of rubbing down the rest of his face, his palm rested over his lips as he caught sight of Ichigo striding towards him with the hardest look of intent in his eyes, as if golden iris and black sclera were boring into his skull. He exclaimed a short, "oh," in realization as Ichigo began to rip off the rest of his tattered black hoodie and yank at the sash of his dirt stained hakama, letting it fall to the ground as he deftly walked out of it, not missing one beat. Grimmjow's body instantly became hot all over. He could feel every pore in his body prickle with rapture as Ichigo fell to his knees over his thighs, pulling him into a devastatingly impassioned open-mouthed kiss, hands in his hair, yanking his head to the side so the younger man could shove his tongue as far into his mouth as he could reach. Grimmjow pulled the enthralled male as close to his body as he could, one hand planted in the middle of a sweat-slicked, muscular back and the other clutched around one half of a solid buttocks.
"What the fffffffffff- stop it!" Ichigo's father exclaimed over the p.a. system. "No no no no no! You two, stop right this instant! You're in public for kami's sake!"
His son let go of his lover's hair to extend his arms with middle fingers raised, not once disconnecting his lips from the other. His hands went back to ravaging Grimmjow soon enough.
"Oh my. What an event this has turned into. I thought my knowledge was pretty extensive but these kids are giving me quite the education today." Uhahara perversely announced into the microphone. Grimmjow opened his eyes to see the reaction of the male against him. Ichigo's eyebrows furrowed, but he didn't budge his tongue's onslaught. Grimmjow shrugged and closed his eyes again, tuning out the rest of the world.
"Nope! Nah ah!" Kurosaki senior protested.
"Wait! What are you doing?!" Urahara shouted as a symphony of smashing commenced. "No! No! Not the monitors! This is very expensive equipment!"
"You can afford to replace it, rich man!"
"Not the hard drive! All my work!"
"Tough!"
"Boy! Look what you made your father d-"
The rocky arena went silent, all but for the alternative ballad coming from the iPod and the heavy breathing and groans coming from the two enamored with each other.
Grimmjow spread the orangette's exposed cheeks, grinding his impossibly hard length between them. Ichigo let Grimmjow's lips go with a pop and hurriedly demanded, "Now, now, now, now," as he slid down a bit and yanked down Grimmjow's waistband, springing forth his painfully erect cock from his pants. Ichigo swiped one hand down Grimm's wet chest and slathered the eager erection with just enough lubricant before he forced the member into his already twitching entrance.
Grimmjow wasted no time tearing away the fabric of Ichigo's jock strap and pumping the young man's dripping hard-on. His mouth latched onto Ichigo's left nipple, his free hand snaked under an arm and gripped onto one shoulder, hips thrust one...two...three times before his shaft spilled into his mate's orgasming passage.
"Ngh, ngh, nnnnnnnngh!" They both exclaimed after each thrust as their frenzied passion hurriedly came to fruition.
Ichigo slumped over Grimmjow's shoulder with a sigh, exhausted and gratified. Grimmjow turned a wry smile and kissed the young man's neck. He wiped his sticky hand on his thigh, then held his love close to his chest as he stretched his folded legs before the muscles started to cramp. He laid his back down into the sandy dirt as Ichigo scooted down to rest on his shoulder.
"Grimm, that was amazing." Ichigo softly sighed into Grimmjow's neck.
"Yeah? So were you." Grimmjow languidly caressed a bicep with his fingertips up and down. "And the sex was fantastic, too." He mused into damp red hair.
Week 27
The young woman who looked a lot like Ichigo's sister, Yuzu, lay in her hospital bed with various machines designed to sustain her life. Her body was battered beyond belief, yet none of the truly vital components: veins, arteries, major organs (other than her nicked lung by a broken rib), were damaged in the knife thrusts. It seemed as if the stabs were calculated, driven in around rather than through major organs. Her will to survive was the only thing keeping her going after the doctors did all they could to put her back together physically.
The lights were dimmed for the night on the critical care unit floor, in the hallways as well as the rooms. A Candy Striper with thick, dark black braids and over the knee white socks made her way through the girl's closed door. She paused after closing the door behind her, then hummed a tune as she danced through the room. The young woman rounded her bed and cocked her head as she stared at the pitiful looking patient.
"Time to wake up soon, missy, or our master will be incredibly displeased with the delay," she mockingly frowned as she pulled a syringe from the front pocket of her red and white striped apron. She pulled the cap off with her mouth and spit it in the corner of the room, then stuck it in the girl's IV port. "There, that should get the ball rolling."
The candy striper took the unconscious girl's hand and raised it to her cheek. "Too bad you had to be the one to be freed from Master-sama. I especially liked your teary eyes and cries for help. They just got me, right here." She pulled her hand close to her chest between her small, pert breasts.
She kissed the patient's hand and placed it softly back onto the bed, backing away and blowing kisses goodbye in an overdramatic way, "till we meet again, sweet darling."
She got to the door and turned around. A mask of meek seriousness pulled over her face before she opened the door and somberly closed the door behind her.
When she turned back around, a man with a long coat and wavy brown locks pulled into a ponytail blocked her path. She looked up innocently at first, then pulled a confident attitude as she said to the man, "visiting hours are over, sir. I can escort you back to the entrance."
The middle aged man, scratched his tiny goatee and dug into his coat pocket, fishing out his badge and flashing it to her. Her eyes went wide, "Oh! Go right ahead, officer," she simpered and bowed out of the way of the door.
"This room is restricted, why were you in it?" The man asked as he opened the door to look around.
"Oh, I felt so bad for that poor girl. All alone with no one's hand to hold. I decided to keep her company a bit, that is my job, don't you know?" She stated in simple and innocent sounding dialogue.
The young officer who was supposed to be on duty outside the door came around the corner with two fresh cups of coffee singing, "Remi-chan. Thanks for watching the door for me." He looked up from his sip and got startled, spilling hot coffee over his hand and pants.
"She gets coffee for you, not the other way around." The older detective shook his head as he went through the door.
The room and equipment seemed untampered with. The machines were still beeping in a calm way and the girl seemed to be hooked up properly to these machines. The doctor in charge of her would be in shortly to assess her vitals for the detective in a moment anyway.
The only reason her lung collapsed in the first place is because her assailant got a little too angry, or something, cracked her rib and punctured her lung. Other than that, all the wounds except for the ones done to her face looked methodical. The facial lacerations were different than usual: mean, vengeful, jealousy driven. Not like the regular calculated mess he was used to seeing. Like a different person had done them.
Clearly he meant for this one to live.
The doctor walked into the room, "Good evening Ishida-sensei. Thank you for letting me sit in on your assessment." The detective bowed respectively.
"Yes, Detective Fukushima. Anything to get you out of my hair quicker." Doctor Ishida first went to check the pupils of his patient. When he lifted the girl's eyelid, she gasped and choked on the breathing tube down her throat, flailing her arms and legs grasping for anything to get a hold of.
"Calm down, miss, calm down! You are at the hospital! You have severe injuries! We do not wish for you to open your wounds. You are safe! You are safe here! Nurse!" Doctor Ishida hit the panic button on the wall behind the patient's head. Moments later, a barrage of attendants came in to help the doctor out. Detective Fukushima backed away into the corner of the room to let the staff work on calming the awakened survivor. Something crunched under his boot and he looked down to see a plastic cap for a long needle.
The detective yawned and scratched his beard as he fished out his phone from his pocket. He didn't have to scroll through any contacts, hitting the first name on his favorites page. "Yuri-chan. I'm gonna be here a bit longer...yeah, she woke up. Let me know if they move from the store as soon as it happens. I'll call you if I hear anything...Yep. See you later."
The detective put his phone away and retrieved his pen from his inner breast pocket, picking up the cap with the tip and eyeballing it before placing it in an evidence bag he got out of another pocket. Hopefully he'd get some answers before dawn breaks.
Several hours passed. The breathing tube was removed from the unfortunate young girl after a mild sedative was administered, stopping her flailing attempts to escape. The psychologist recommended she not be put in restraints since it might trigger another episode. Twenty-four hour surveillance was the decided option.
Fukushima Kiba sat in a chair flipping through a cooking magazine. One of several he'd ingested during his shift beside the girl's bed. It was making him hungry, but a late night snack wouldn't be possible for at least another hour till his partner came to relieve him. A younger nurse kept vigil on the other side of the bed, her head buried in her smart phone. She took a picture of him, trying to pass it off as checking for a signal.
Okimura Raiko's light brown hair was matted down from sweat and lacked the luster a good shower would provide. The girl was pretty in a girl-next-door sort of way, her nails were short and clean with no polish on them and her eyebrows were a natural shape. It didn't seem like she was in to any fashion trend, like the ones seen tweezed and dolled up at the fashionable hang outs. The killer was all over the place when it came to any particular style of woman he preferred: No one older than 40, no one younger than 18. Make-up, no make-up. Trendy or plain. Natural or dyed hair. It didn't quite matter. What mattered more, Fukushima deduced, were personality traits over looks. Yet, he wouldn't call any of his victims homely.
The girl stirred and Fukushima looked up from his magazine. He stayed where he was and went back pretending to read, not wanting to make any sudden moves and spook the girl a second time. The nurse made to get up and fuss over the awakening young woman, but she thankfully glanced his way first and he shook his head and she stilled, sat back down and wrung her hands on her lap, denying her natural instict to care. Right now no one was sure what was going to set off the traumatized girl. Keeping cool, which he did quite well, was the only thing he could think of right now. The girl raised her head up slowly and took in the room around her in a suspicious manner. Due to the pain she was most likely in, if she stayed calm, her wounds should keep her from moving too much. She took in the softly smiling nurse first, and then got to him and flinched. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her hands start shaking a bit.
The detective flipped to the next page, "I'm not a big fan of Oden, I prefer Nabe. All those fish cakes and konnyaku and chikuwabu, gives me indigestion. Mizore Nabe. Now that hits the spot on a cold winter's day." He yawned and scratched his scruffy goatee.
The battered girl stared bewildered at the middle aged detective. He continued, "It's springtime now, though. What's your favorite spring dish?"
She swallowed with a pained expression and tried to speak, "I like chikuwabu and atsu-age," her voice rasped from the tube being down her throat, "I like all of it."
Fukushima chuckled approvingly. This girl spoke her mind. Probably not something a narcissist serial killer looked for in a...hmm, that was interesting. He stumbled upon another theory. A willful mind is not something a controlling abuser would like, nor something they would put up with for long.
"That's wonderful. I'll bring some by the moment the doctors say you can have real food, ok?" She still stared at the scruffy man with eyes that were hesitant yet grasping for comfort. The lax man's eyes were soft and his deep voice soothing, "My name is Kiba, Fukushima Kiba. I'm a detective." He held up a finger and slowly went into his breast pocket for his identification. "See here? Ah, it's a terrible picture," he flipped open his ID wallet and showed the woman an eyes-half-closed portrait, "seems about right, though," he acknowledged as he scratched at his beard. "I want to help you, Okimura-san. Your family is outside in the waiting room. I know I'm probably not the person you most want to see right now, but it's very important to get any information you can give to us, then you can have all the time that you want with your loved ones.
The young woman stared at her bandaged and bruised arms, then looked up to stare a the blank screen of the television mounted on the wall across from her bed. "He said I took care of the customers so nicely. All the locals come in so I know most by name and what they usually purchase." The girl's bottom lip started to tremble a bit.
"At the conbini you part-time at while you go to Uni." Fukushima stated.
"He pretended to be so...," she mashed her bottom jaw as if she didn't want to speak the words, "handsome and cool and n-nice. I'm such a fool." She stared now at the clock above the doorframe, like she was willing the second hand to tick faster. Tears started to spill down her cheeks.
"I would never think of you as anything but the bravest person I've met." When Fukushima made a statement, it sounded like truth: one of the gifts he possessed that made him a great detective. The girl shook her head, starting a spiral of self loathing. The detective scooped one small hand up into his large ones and patted it soothingly, "Could you describe him for me? Anything outstanding features: mole, tattoo?"
She turned her head towards him with a sorrowful frown, "I can even tell you his name. He left his wallet next to me while he got up to take a shower one time so I know it's correct. He even told me his real name to my face! Like he knew I wouldn't be able to to tell anyone after I was dead!" Her anger progressed with each word.
"That jerk! Tell me Raiko-chan! Tell me and I'll make him pay, you'll make him pay! Tell me who it is." Fukushima matched her fervor, spuring her on.
"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques! Blue hair, blue eyes! You can't miss him!"
