warning: AU, probable OOC, boyxboy, quite a lot of angst in this chapter, established relationship. But don't let that put you off . Read, if only to tell me how to improve :) If this seems a bit confusing don't worry...all questions will be answered in the long run.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...but hey...I've got over it now...so please don't sue..

"So I see your here for the tapes Ichigo,"

"Er...yeah,"

Ichigo stood, half in, half out the office. The man in front of him, Aizen, was sitting calmly at his desk sipping from a steaming mug of god-knows-what, his glasses slipping down his nose ever so slightly. He pushed them back up with a smirk before placing his mug down and his elbows on the desk.

"So you are definitely sure that you want to do this then Ichigo?" Aizen asked him.

Ichigo nodded. Yes. He was definitely sure. He'd talked it through with Grimmjow...well sort of, and it was all planned. Well, relatively planned. Ichigo would play the tape to Grimmjow and they'd deal with the aftermath when it came. No point worrying about it until it had happened. True he was sort of regretting his 'tape' idea. It couldgo horribly wrong. And the more Ichigo thought about it, the worse an idea it had become. He'd thought it through thoroughly, but after rethinking it, there did seem to be quite a few faults. It was too late to back out now though.

"Well the I'll just get the key then," Aizen said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a brass key. Ichigo felt his eyes narrow.

"A key?" he asked. Aizen smirked.

"The key to my drawer," he said, gesturing to the mahogany desk which on further inspection yes, did have a drawer.

"Yeah, whatever, " Ichigo said, his hand coming to rest across his other arm unconsciously as his eyes automatically glanced over to the window.

"Don't you want to come in?" Aizen said, smirking slightly at Ichigo's in-out predicament. Ichigo wasn't so sure he wanted to enter, but shrugged any way and taking one last glance out the door, shut it behind him. He came to stand awkwardly in front of the desk where Aizen was in the process of opening the lock of the drawer.

"How long does it take?" he retorted quietly, automatically, feeling himself become angry at the man before him.

"How long do you think Ichigo?" the man said looking straight at the teen, the drawer opening with a click. Ichigo watched with baited breath as he pulled out...a box.

"The tape is in the box," Aizen said as if reading Ichigo's mind. Ichigo snorted. He wouldn't put it past the man to put the tapes in a box... that was in another box which was in another box and so on until the man had run out of boxes. Yeah, that would be Aizen alright.

"The box doesn't seem big enough," Ichigo said scowling sceptically. Aizen smirked, leaning back in his chair.

"It is more then large enough to accomodate a tape Ichigo," he said.

"A tape...I thought I was getting all of the tapes?" Ichigo said, beginning to grow agitated at the man who just sat there smirking at him.

"Not at once. I have selected the first tape, the first recorded session, the session where you begin to actually talk. The first three sessions were unrecorded and rather useless for obvious reasons... plus you refused to co-operate during them. However, on this occasion you snapped and told us the first time you met..."

"Okay, okay, whatever," Ichigo said, talking the box and shoving it awkwardly into his shoulder bag. He didn't want to hear her name even now.

"I need to borrow a tape player," he said, not bothering to ask. He was fully aware that Aizen remembered. He was probably being purposely awkward...as usual.

"Oh yes. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten that small yet rather key detail Ichigo," the man said, smirking. Ichigo's scowl deepened.

"Just give me it," he said sighing heavily. Aizen just smirked and opened his draw again (this time with less flourish). Ichigo barely caught the ancient object as it was flung gracefully in his vague direction. Ichigo stuffed it roughly in his bag and felt his eyes get drawn yet again towards the door.

"Are you leaving now Ichigo?" he heard Aizen ask him and he nodded.

"Yeah, yeah," he said vaguely. He saw the man lean forward once more and could tell, behind his calm exterior, he was itching to grab his pen and paper.

"Are you going back to your boyfriend?" he asked. Ichigo smiled slightly at the thoughts of Grimmjow. He'd left him some pancakes to heat up this morning as an apology of sorts for the arguments. It had near killed him when he'd had to leave their bed that morning, and he'd seriously wished he had had a camera handy at the sight of his 'manly-man' boyfriend, hugging a pillow. Ichigo barely noticed he was chuckling to himself lightly until he was interrupted.

"Fond thoughts?" he heard Aizen ask, breaking him from his day-dream. He felt a bit sheepish having been caught and cleared his throat.

"Er, yeah," he said, not really wanting to divulge the information to the phyciatrist.

"Hmm...yes, keep thinking those fond thoughts tonight," Aizen said making Ichigo feel slightly nervous.

"I'm presuming Grimmjow is prepared for what he will hear?" Aizen asked casually. Ichigo swallowed.

"Yeah. He knows he's listening to a tape from one of our sessions," he said, is eyes darting towards the window. It was shut.

"Does he know what they will contain?" Aizen asked. Ichigo shook his head.

"I thought I'd just leave it to the tapes," Ichigo said, licking his lips nervously.

"Very well. I just hope it all goes to plan...presuming there is a plan?" Aizen asked.

"There's a plan," Ichigo said firmly taking an almost defensive, despite what he felt.

"I was merely asking," Aizen said. There was an awkward silence.

"I'm presuming you need to be going home soon," Aizen said, politely dismissing the teen.

"You presume too much," Ichigo said, turning from the desk and checking his shoulder strap. He took a deep breath and walked to the door. He didn't bother with goodbye's. It was unnecessary.

Walking out of a room was always easier then walking into one (presuming he didn't walk straight into another room). He felt slightly relieved as he left the dim office into the brightly lit hallway leading straight out onto the street. He gave the receptionist a small nod as he passed and concentrated on his breathing as he left the building.

Walking down the street made him feel tense. True, there were many exits, many alleyways and corners for him to use as an escape route. Not that he would run. No it would be more likely for him to lash out in defense should anyone attempt to stop him. The fact was that the alleyways were just that. Alleyways. The stereotypical scene of muggings, rapes and general violence. And that was what made Ichigo slightly tense.

He forced himself to think of happier things then the concrete he walked on, such was his routine: crossing the road should anyone appear and keeping his head down. He'd used to wear his hood permanently up and over his head until Grimmjow insisted he looked like an idiot for doing so (affectionately of course). He fought down a smile at the memory of his boyfriend tackling the hood from his head and insisting his hair was fine. That if anyone thought it was anything but fine they'd answer to him. How he'd whacked him and pretended that it was just his hair he was bothered about. He'd never worn his hood up since though.

He didn't bother pulling out a key, he knew Grimmjow would already be home, watching TV or doing some other random 'manly' thing. Pushing open the door he savoured the warmth from within and shut it awkwardly, his hands numb from the cold.

"I'm home," he shouted into the apartment pausing to sniff the air. Yeah, he could definitely smell burning. A curse from the vague direction of the kitchen confirmed that yes, his boyfriend was indeed cooking. He fought to stop the smile breaking out on his face as he made his way to the small kitchen taking in the sight before him.

His boyfriend he could see was visibly panicking as he held the pan of...well Ichigo couldn't really tell due to the fact it was burnt to a crisp and shrivelled on the edge of the plate. Ichigo contemplated whether or not he should walk over and wrap his arms round the teal haired man, but decided against it. He probably end up being hit with the frying pan. Instead, he decided to voice his presence with a sharp cough. He looked away, watching out of the corner of his eye and hiding a smirk at the sight of the man jumping slightly, then trying to cover rapidly. Yeah. He'd meant to nearly drop the frying pan. It was all part of his plan, Ichigo thought sarcastically.

"I see you tried to cook," Ichigo said, stating the obvious, the smirk still in place. He watched as Grimmjow's eyes narrowed and began to glare at him (probably to hide his embarrassment).

"Shut up," Grimmjow growled, and Ichigo watched as he slammed his foot on the bin lever, pouring the contents inside where they landed (mysteriously enough) with a crunch.

"Could the fact that your cooking have anything to do with what I mentioned yesterday?" Ichigo asked slyly, remembering the conversation oh too well.

"I have no idea what your talking about," his boyfriend replied in a 'drop-it' kind of way. Ichigo's smirk deepened.

"You know, the part of the conversation where you were telling me all about Ulquiorra..."

"Ichi...shut up,"

"...and about how he was starting cooking classes..."

"Ichigo.."

"...and how you found it funny that a guy would bother learning to cook..."

"drop it...,"

"...which was when I mentioned how I thought guys who cooked were pretty hot..."

"seriously shut the hell up..."

"...don't tell me that you actually listened to me for once Grimm?" Ichigo said, leaning back against the counter to look at his boyfriend who was masking his obvious embarrassment with anger. He resisted the urge to laugh. He hadn't seriously thought that he was right about the comment he'd made earlier, but judging from Grimmjow's reactions he was dead on. Only now he felt a bit bad for baiting him.

He walked over to where the older man was now fuming and hoisted himself up onto the bench so that he was about the same height as him (Grimmjow being considerably taller then him...thinking about it alot of the men Ichigo knew were taller then him... it wasn't that he was short, he just seemed to attract the freakishly tall).

"What were you trying to cook?" Ichigo asked, leaning his shoulder against Grimmjow's slightly. He heard a mumbled reply.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I said it was fucking pasta alright," Grimmjow hissed back. Ichigo held back a snigger.

"How did you manage to burn pasta?" he asked. He really had no idea.

"I don't know do I?" Grimmjow said sounding aggravated. Ichigo confirmed this by the fact that he ran his fingers through his hair. He only ever did that when he was excited or stressed, and in this case it was the latter.

"We'll order in tonight then. Does pizza sound alright?" Ichigo asked, receiving a shrug. Sighing he slid off the bench and walked over to the fridge. He peered in.

"Omlette?" he asked.

"Nah, we'll just order in," Grimmjow said.

"You sure? I can cook if you.."

"No. You...look let's just order okay?" Grimmjow said, his fingers never once leaving his hair, their combing leaving four visible trails. Ichigo could tell he was very agitated now. He had no idea why though. Was he still pissed off about the cooking? Deciding to ignore the fact his boyfriend was pissed of (possibly at him) he continued as if nothing had happened.

"Aizen gave me the tapes..." he started, hoping to gage a reaction out of the man. There was a simple nod. Ichigo sighed.

"Look if you don't want to listen tonight then..."

"No!" Ichigo was surprised by the other man's Strong reaction "I mean....I want to hear it okay," Grimjow continued, sounding forceful. He didn't sound too sure though, like he was convincing himself. Needless to say this did wonders for Ichigo's nerves.

There was an awkward silence which neither seemed determined to break. Deciding enough was enough, Ichigo walked out into the hall to grab his bag, ignoring the questioning look from his boyfriend. When the man still didn't understand why he was carrying his bag he held it up.

"Tape," he said simply, flicking his finger towards it. Grimmjow just gave him a 'yeah, I knew that' look. Ichigo rolled his eyes and walked into the living room. The T.V was on, the volume down low. Ichigo turned it off and tried to reassure himself. He felt the sofa dip and knew then that Grimmjow was with him, ready.

It was just a tape. Just a tape. None of it was still happening. Life was good. Yeah. He tried to keep thinking those thoughts as he slotted the tape in, as he pushed play and the familiar whirring sound he'd come to hate and accept filled his ears. The voice of his 16 year old self filled his ears. It was...shocking.

"What the fuck is that?"

"It's a tape recorder Ichigo,"

"Why the fuck are you recording this? Who are you going to show? Turn it off...turn it off!"

"Calm down Ichigo. I won't be showing anyone. I explained to you last week, this is so that I can help,"

"Help? Help. How the fuck can you help,"

Ichigo felt his heart grip with a sense of deja-vu, felt his insides squirm as he heard himself from two years previous. He sounded nervous, like a caged animal, each syllable hissed, each word cynical and angry. Like he hadn't needed help, didn't want to be there. And Ichigo could remember feeling exactly that, asking exactly that.

"Why the fuck am I here?"

"You know the answer to that Ichigo,"

"No, if I did I wouldn'ta asked you would I?"

"Fine, then I'll tell you exactly why your here Ichigo. You're here to answer some questions,"

"Questions...fuck that,"

There was the sound of a chair moving and Ichigo could only guess that he'd stood up.

"Sit down Ichigo,"

"Make-me,"

"Where you involved in the death of Ayako Hayashi?"

There was a silence, like the Ichigo from the past had frozen at the name, much like the Ichigo of the present. That name. It conjured up so much for him. So much...

He felt the images almost flood his mind as his past self continued.

"Don't say her name," he heard himself whisper haggardly, and he felt himself almost nod in agreement.

"Why,"

"Because..."

"Because what Ichigo...who was Ayako Hayashi?"

"Stop saying that fucking bitches name!"

"So you disliked her I take it?"

"Disliked her?" Ichigo heard himself laugh, although it sounded more like pain then laughter. "How could I not?"

"When did you first meet her?"

"You really wanna know? My dad introduced her to me..."

"Your father..?"

"yeah. She was supposed to be my new...babysitter..."

"Ichigo?"

He turned to face his younger sister Yuzu as she handed him her picture shyly. It wasn' t particularly good, but he wasn't about to tell her this.

"Nice job Yuzu," he said, smiling slightly at the way her eyes lit up at the praise. Small kids. So easy to please.

"Hey, why don't you go show Karin?" he asked, hoping she'd take the hint. Being naive as she was, she merely nodded and smiled.

"Okay Ichigo!" she said, before skipping out eagerly. Ichigo felt a small smile tug at his lips again and winced slightly at the bruise still on his cheek. Stupid kid that punched him. He'd punched him back though so it was okay. The bruises across his knuckles were worth it for that kid to stop calling him 'carrot'. Stupid kid.

An eleven year old Ichigo lay back on his bed sighing at the memory. He closed his eyes. It was so hot that he'd been tempted to lie under the sprinkler. It was that kind of hot that even the thinnest of clothes are uncomfortable as they stick to your skin like an extra layer. That was exacty how Ichigo was feeling when he'd heard his father coming up the stairs. Hot, uncomfortable and in an incredibly bad mood. Hearing the thuds, he'd thought it could have possibly been Yuzu, begging him to help her bake cookies or some other sugary item. But then he heard his father, Isshin's voice.

"And this is my eleven year old son Ichigo," the annoying voice said chirpily. Cracking an eye open he looked and around, surpised to see that his dad was not alone. No there was a woman next to him, looking rather nervous, her plain hair tied up messily and her heavily bitten nails digging into her arm. She looked around twenty-six maybe older, and to be honest Ichigo looked straight through her. He saw her, but not realy. She was plain, nothing to brag about in so much that Ichigo just ignored her even being there. She was there for a reason sure, but it sure as hell didn't need to involve him. Closing his eyes he decided to ignore them. That was easy enough to do, until he felt himself be dragged from his bed and dumped unceremoniously in the floor.

"Ichigoooo! Be polite to your new babysitter Ayako Hayashi. Ayako this is Ichigo," that was how she was introduced by his smiling father. Babysitter. Ichigo noticed that neither him nor the new 'babysitter' appeared particularly enthralled by the title, but his father (as usual) was completely oblivious to this. That stupid smile was still plastered on his face like an immovable mask. The only time he could ever remember seeing it gone was when...well when his mother had died. But he didn't particularly want to remember that, so decided instead to concentrate on the woman before him.

"I think you should have some get-to-know-each-other-time," he heard his father say, still smiling before leaving the woman in Ichigo's bedroom. The only thing heard was his ceiling fan which only seemed to fuel the awkward tension.

"Hi," the woman had said to him. Hi. One word and he knew immediately that he disliked her. There was something about her eyes, like they didn't quite match her calm expression, like they were deep and calculating. So he ignored her.

"I'm Ayako Hayashi," she continued, yet Ichigo continued to ignore her. He'd already heard her name, hearing it a second time did nothing for him.

"Whatever," he said. He didn't particularly want to interact with her. There was no real point. He heard her sigh.

"Look, my friend told me your father was talking about the lack of a mother-figure may be bad for your sisters to her, so she reccommended me. So he's hired me," she said with a shrug. That was unexpected and definitely peaked his interests. His uncalled for dislike had finally found a reason to grasp onto. Not only had he no desire to hear her excuses for being here as far fetched as they were, what she had said had angered him.

"A woman figure?" he said sneering slightly. The woman nodded. "well we don't need one," he said finally, getting off his bed and walking towards the door. Pausing he turned to glance back.

"Are we hiring you to clean as well?" he asked. The woman appeared to bite her lip, but nodded. Ichigo nodded before walking out.

That was the first time he ever met Ayako Hayashi, though definately not the last. Within the first week he'd noticed that she was there for around two hours everyday, doing mundane jobs such as cooking small meals and cleaning round the kitchen. That time seemed to increase however. It started out small, with her staying after a meal when his dad arrived home. He remembered when his dad had walked in, looking happy. Not that that was unusual (the man was happy a majority of the day) but that day he had looked especially happy.

"Family!" he'd called out, grabbing 'his beautiful daughters' and twirling them round and attempting to hug his 'strapping young son' only to narrowly avoid being kicked in the head. Ichigo watched the woman out of the corner of his eye, smiling, laghing, longing. The look on her face when Isshin had grabbed her and also pulled her into the 'family hug'.

"Come on Ichigo, join us!" he'd called, opening his free arm. Ichigo shook his head and turned away. The image of the 'happy family' left a bad taste on his tongue, and he hastily began to stab his chicken. He heard a laugh from Isshin and presumed the bonding time had stopped.

"Well I guess I ought to leave," that woman said. Ichigo felt his eyes drift to her, narrowing at the look on her face. He couldn't place it. The chicken stabbing carried on.

"No no, stay! Today calls for celebration" Isshin called out. Ichigo saw the woman stutter and answer before sitting down awkwardly. He watched bitterly as Yuzu tugged on the woman's dress.

"What Yuzu?" she asked, sounding so sickeningly sweet it was...well..sickening. Ichigo stabbed louder, screeching his fork loudly against his plate causing both Yuzu and the woman to look at him. He ignored them and filled his mouth with chicken, chewing defiantly as the scene continued.

"Could you teach me how to cook?" Yuzu asked shyly. Ichigo hated it. It shouldn't be that woman who taught her how to cook. That was...

"That sounds like a great idea!" the smiling happy (annoying) face of Isshin added. Ichigo took deep gulps of water to wash down the chicken. The woman had cooked it too dry.

"Sure then Yuzu," she said smiling. Ichigo stood up with a creak of his chair. All faces turned to look at him.

"I'm done. May I leave the table?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Of course you may son. Leave...leave and do marvelous things..." Ichigo walked out halfway through his father's tirade. He'd rather not hear what marvelous things he could do. He'd rather study and hope to never see that woman again.

No such look. He saw her waiting for him from his classroom window and felt a spark of anger flow though him. Why was she here? He was eleven. He hardly needed someone to walk him home from school. It was barely two blocks away. Yuzu and Karin had an after school club (which he would be picking them up from) so the woman was obviously here for him. Some stupid kid noticed his line of sight.

"Hey berry, are you being picked up from school?" the kid taunted. Ichigo decided to ignore him. He was hardly worth getting into a fight over. He only ever fought when they attacked first. He just continued to glare at the awkward looking mousy woman who was stood by the school gates, oblivious to the fact she was being glared, pointed and laughed at. Ichigo would have felt sorry for her, but yet again her eyes flashed into his head. The lack of real emotion in them...scared him to be honest. It was like looking into the eyes of a machine. So Ichigo watched as others in the class ridiculed the woman.

"Why are you here?! he asked, the first words through his lips as he saw her. She just gave him a strained smile.

"I thought we should get to know each other...Isshin thought it would be a good idea," since when did she call him Isshin. Mr Kurosaki. That was the correct term. Why was she calling him by his first name.

"Well he's wrong," Ichigo said rudely. He wanted nothing to do with her, and hoped the feeling would become mutual.

Safe to say the walk home was awkward and silent, him walking at a fast pace ahead of her, almost jogging and her walking slowly, dragging behind.

He'd decided to talk it out with his dad. His dad was an idiot, but could become serious when he wanted to be. Ichigo only hoped he'd be taken seriously.

"I don't like her," he said, crossing his arms across his chest and looking up at the man, scowl fixed in place. And what did his dad do? Laughed. Laughed and ruffled his hair.

"Nonsense son. What's not to like?" he said. Ichigo felt his anger grow slightly, and didn't bother keeping it in check.

"Everything. She's...she's trying to replace her..." he said angrily. He didn't even need to say it. Isshin knew exactly who he meant.

"Ichigo...no one will ever replace your mother you know," his father said, sounding serious. It was a rare occasion.

"She doesn't know that," Ichigo retorted. Isshin let out another laugh. There. Serious moment over. Ichigo felt his hair ruffled again.

"Ayako doesn't like me like that at all son. She's young and I'm old. I can guarantee that she doesn't like me...besides Masaki is the only woman for me..." Ichigo decided to leave before his father went off on one and walked out the room. No doubt his old man was going to be talking to his life size Masaki poster for a while (one of the mans unusual quirks).

So Ichigo had decided to give it a rest. He'd decided to ignore it all and keep his distance. He'd decided that, but when he'd heard noises coming from his father's bedroom, he instead decided to investigate.

As he walked nearer he'd heard her voice, a soft harsh whisper coming from the bedroom, and he presumed she was merely on the phone. Well that was what he'd hoped. It would have been near to impossible for him to have walked away at that point. Who knew what she could be up to in there (he may have decided to keep his distance, but his suspicions were still there). Besides, what harm could it do? Creeping over to the sliding door, he'd pressed his ear against it until the faint humming became clear words.

"...bitch. You can't have him you know. You know that? Your dead. You dead so you can't have him..."

Ichigo felt his heart jump into his throat. He felt anger course through his veins, and felt his fists clench automatically at the words. His nails dug deep into his skin leaving small white craters as he unclenched them. She couldn't. There was no way that she could be talking about that...to that?

And yet there she was. Ichigo barely remembered pulling back the door, but there she was.

Ayako Hayashi.

Talking to his mother's portrait.

Talking to his mother's portrait with such disrespect...it made Ichigo want to attack her then and there. This woman, this bitch had no right to talk to his mother like that. She hadn't known her, never would, had no idea of how..how amazing she was. How much it had torn him up inside when she'd died. How much he'd tried to forget about it all. How..she had no idea. And there she was. Talking to her like that. About his dad. His naive dad. His dad who had no idea who he had hired.

Ichigo snapped out of his inner thoughts to a sharp sound. It sounded like a snap, like someone had broken something across their knee. It made him jump and he looked up to stare straight into the eyes of the woman. He looked up at her and knew deep down that he'd never be able to take her on. She had an advantage in not only age but also height. Did he care? No. Bracing himself to run forwards, he was shocked when she moved first, almost like lightning, grabbing the hem of his T-shirt and slamming him round into the wall, pinning him there with her stubby fingers.

He merely looked up at her, still angry but panic lacing the edges of his anger. The panic began to gather as he took her in fully. Her expression...well what expression. Her jaw was set, her eyes glinting yet no sign of anger. He stance wasn't even particularly defensive, her hands were merely at his throat like it wasn't a particularly big deal. He felt her release him and he slid down the wall slightly. He looked up hesitently, but felt his head whip to the right sharply, his cheek stinging, burning almost, unwanted and unnecessary tears forming at the corners of his eyes. It was at that moment that he realised many things. One, he'd just been slapped by Ayako Hayashi. Two, the woman had to be mentally unbalanced. And three, his cheek felt like it had been whipped with a hot poker.

Still reeling from the blow, he felt himself hoisted up again.

"You won't be telling your father this..." she whispered, holding his face, forcing him to look at her. He still had his pride so he refused to answer her. He wasn't stupid though, so he did nothing as defiant as spitting in her face. He just watched, fighting down the trembles as the adrenaline left his body leaving him shaken.

"You know how I know you wont be telling your father any of this?" the woman asked him again, malice hidden under fake sweetness. He did nothing.

"Because, I can hurt your sisters," those words hurt more then the physical blow. His sisters. Naive and innocent Yuzu, stubborn and persistent Karin. The thoughts of...it was like ice had slid down his spine immobilising him. Nothing made sense. All he knew was that she could hurt his sisters.

He felt himself released once more and heard the woman leave.

He just sat there, eyes half open. He just sat there trying not to think.

"...so she hit you did she Ichigo?" Aizen's voice penetrated though Ichigo's thoughts and he felt himself be pulled out of his memories. He'd hoped never to relive those moments. His hands were still shaking.

The Ichigo on the tape didn't reply. There was the sound of scratching pens.

"Was that the last time she hit you Ichigo?" there was a moment's silence.

"No," the answer was quiet, unsure, like the past Ichigo was afraid of what could happen should he admit it. Present Ichigo almost flinched at the sound.

"Ichigo..."

"No...I don't want to say anything else,"

"Should we meet next week?" the question was rhetorical. Ichigo knew then and he knew now that he had appointments everyweek. There was no negotiation.

"Yes," he heard himself answer anyway.

"Well then Ichigo I'll..."

"Turn off the tape,"

"Very well Ichigo.."

The tape stopped. The sound didn't though, the whirring and white noise still leaking through until Ichigo pushed the stop button with a shaky finger. There was silence.

"Shit," Ichigo didn't look up. He didn't need to. He knew who the voice belonged to. Grimmjow. He'd forgotten about him, too wrapped up in his own memories.

"Shit, shit shit," Ichigo continued to ignore him "I knew it would be something like this...shit...I knew..."

Ichigo just sat, arms crossed, head down. He was well aware he was trembling, and he was well aware that he looked weak. Nervous. All the things he strove to over come. But at that moment it was one of the furthest things from his mind.

He should have known. Known it would be a bad idea. The cons should have outweighed the pros. But he listened to it anyway, and had to relive it anyway.

His boyfriend (at long last) seemed to notice his lack of reaction.

"Ichi?" Grimmjow sounded unusually hesitant. His normally cocky, charming yet oh so endearing voice sounded unsure. Ichigo felt a warm arm wrap round his back and rub his shoulder slightly. After what felt like hours, he composed himself enough to lift his head and look into the other man's eyes. He noticed the concern was immediately masked, but not completely.

"Sorry," Ichigo mumbled, tearing his eyes away. Grimmjow seemed confused and Ichigo glanced up at his expression. His eyebrows were furrowed and confusion was definitely evident.

"What for?"

Ichigo shrugged.

"I should have just told you," he muttered. There was a silence. Ichigo could practically hear the cogs grinding in the teal haired man's brain as he thought of a suitable answer.

"Yeeeeah...but knowing you you'd 'ave cut bit's out right?"

Ichigo looked up.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Grimmjow shrugged and leaned back, Ichigo automatically leaning with him.

"Well, you'd 'ave left out all the bad bits...I mean you woulda told the truth, but you'd water it down. Am I right?" Grimmjow said smirking slightly. Ichigo shrugged.

"Least this way I get the whole story," Grimmjow said, sounding like he was trying to reason. Ichigo swallowed. His throat seemed to have dried up during the listening.

"I mean, unless you don't wanna listen," Grimmjow said sounding serious, as if realising something. His expression was stern and calculating. Ichigo shook his head slightly.

"No...it's alright I guess. It's just been a while since I thought about how it all started ya know?" he said sighing deeply.

"How many tapes are there?" Grimmjow asked. Ichigo shrugged.

"Dunno. It's up to Aizen really. He's seemed to have appointed himself controller of the tapes," Ichigo said. This was good. Things were becoming light again. Friendly. Normal.

Grimmjow snorted.

"Grimm...can you promise me something..." Ichigo asked. No matter how corny or cheesy or god knows what this sounded he needed to say it.

"What?" Grimmjow said, sounding suspicious.

"I've forgotten what's exactly on these tapes. But I have a pretty good idea. I just want you to promise that you...you won't see me any differently," Ichigo said looking down. His face was conveniently hidden from view by his hair.

"Yeah..I promise," Grimmjow said. Well, he sounded sincere. Ichigo let out a sigh of relief. If there was one thing that Grimmjow did it was keep is promises.

"I promise I will forever see you as the annoying brat I first saw in highschool," he also had a knack of ruining romantic moments. Ichigo hit him on his leg.

"Shut up," he said, hiding his smirk. Damn him. He always knew exactly what to say.

"Anyway when can I hear the other tapes?" Grimmjow asked, sounding vaguely solemn.

"Like I said. Up to Aizen," Ichigo said, giving him a pointed look.

"look. Ichigo. These tapes..." Grimmjow started. Ichigo sighed. He knew what he was going to ask.

"Did you enjoy this one?" he asked. Grimmjow looked shocked he'd asked.

"What!? No!" Ichigo just stared at him.

"Then I can guarantee you won't be liking the other ones," he said. Grimmjow began to comb his hair with his hand.

"You don't have to listen if you..." Ichigo started.

"No...I...I don't care if I like it or not. I don't care if I end up wanting to rip that bitches head off more then I already do. I just need to know..ya know?" Grimmjow said, almost seeking acceptance for his reasoning. Ichigo nodded.

"Yeah I get it,"

He found himself pulled forward further onto the man's lap. He turned round in question, only to be pulled forward his lips colliding with the others. It was an unusual kiss, not as rough as usual. Usually it was an ultimate battle for dominance (to which Ichigo would gladly submit), their tongues clashing and swirling until a pleasurable pattern, a rhythm was found. Teeth were usually involved as well, biting and nibbling all areas of vulnerable flesh, the gently soothing the wounded area. It was all in all a battle, a pleasurable battle, but a battle none the less, where all participants were victors in the end.

However this kiss was unusual for the fact it was just that. A kiss. Small and chaste, gentle and soft, polar opposites to Grimmjow. It was short and sweet, and when Grimmjow pulled away Ichigo found his face gently cupped. The gesture was a surprise, but more so were the words whispered into his ear as Grimmjow leaned forward.

"I mean it,"

And Ichigo knew exactly which promise he meant.

tbc.

review please and tell me what you thought ...

and please if you would just read through my A/N?

Firstly, I have this thing planned out and whoa it's going to be epic. Angsty, romantic and epic. Because on the tapes it not only describes what happened during the years of abuse and...well we'll come to that, but also afterwards, how it ended and how met Grimmjow. And on top of that, how present Grimmjow and Ichigo react to the tapes.

Just to clear things up, Ichigo only starts to get counciling at the age of 16. He's eleven in the flashback, but in the other tapes his age will increase (I'll let you know).

Was the flashback thing okay?

If it's till confusing, just tell ask me questions in a review, but hopefully by the end of this fic it'll all be explained. Just warning you, it will become er..slightly angsty before it becomes romantic and spicy, but you'll have that to look forward to eh?

And oh, last thing...is anyone willing to beta for me? (who could also tell me how to do it I have no idea, and who would put up with my random updates?) please? Don't mind if no one does, I was just wondering (because I would feel so much better if I had someone to help me with the plot and grammer and ideas as such)

And yeah, if the O.C bothers you, I'm only adding her because she's neccesary...if it's any concellation I hate her alot...she is developed though, not just an excuse.

Anyways thanks for reading, much love :) and sorry for the long authors note, but I had to get this all off my chest ^^