I guess I owe an apology...I'm so sorry this capter took so long to get out, but exams decided to rule my life. Now they are over, let's just say you can be expecting alot more updates ;)
I really don't see how a disclaimer is needed on this sight...it's called fanfiction dot net...0.o...none the less I guess I will just confirm to you all that I do not own Bleach or any products I may have mentioned in this fic...this angst ridden plot is all mine though ;)
Warnings: language, scenes of child abuse and slight boyxboy..or rather manxman (they're 18 and 19)
Betad by The Holyest of Crap, thankyou so much for having to edit this thing ^_^
Chapter 5.
"How are you Ichigo?"
Ichigo suddenly felt as though he'd stepped into a session with the older man, the words so familiarly said each week..
"Fine," he muttered, with a half shrug. It was half true, he was fine, although never so much in the office. It was too small , too enclosed. And the window was shut. Why was the window shut? It wasn't like it was too cold out, and the man knew how much he liked it open.
"Would you like the tape?" Aizen's voice broke through his inner musings. Ichigo nodded sharply. It was becoming a routine, the man reached under his desk, unlocked his drawer and pulled out a tape. The plastic cover had on it a scribble in red pen that Ichigo couldn't seem to make out despite his squinting. As the tape was handed over, he quickly shoved it in his bag and secured it on his shoulder.
"Er," he began "can I wait here for a bit?" he asked. Aizen's face showed confusion for a split second, before the usual mask slipped into place.
"Why of course Ichigo. Is there any particular reason, or do you just desire my company?"
Yes this was why he was nervous. He scoffed.
"I desire many things, your company definitely not one of them. Er, my boyfriend said he wanted to meet me here today after work," he said, trailing off at the end.
It was true. He'd asked...well rather told him the day previous that he was going to be walking him home, and despite Ichigo's arguing that he wasn't a girl and didn't need to be walked home like one, secretly, he appreciated it.
"To walk you home?" he looked up to see Aizen. Smirking. He scowled openly at the man.
"What do you think?" he asked. Always a mistake to ask this of a psychologist.
"What do I think? I think that yes, he is meeting you here with the intent to walk you home safely, which means that I also think that the tapes you have been playing to him have been affecting him more then he has been letting on, which leads me to the theory that he is behaving slightly more over protectively, whilst attempting to cover it. That is what I think Ichigo,"
Ichigo didn't even bother nodding. He just scowled.
"Has he been Ichigo?" Aizen asked, ignoring the silence which showed quite obviously that he did not want to answer.
"Yes," he said reluctantly. When it became clear that this answer was not going to suffice he sighed.
"Yeah, he's been arguing more. Not serious, but little things. I think it's because I told him something, and he's been trying to hard not to..." he trailed off.
"What did you tell him Ichigo?" Aizen asked. Ichigo back peddled rapidly.
"Er, I can't remember to well, it was on the night of the first tape," he muttered looking anywhere but at Aizen's eyes. He made sure not to look left though. He knew that trick. If you're lying, you look left...apparently. He made sure to look down, at his converse clad feet. He still knew he hadn't gotten away with it, he'd admitted as much in the previous sentence.
"Hmm...of course Ichigo," he knew he hadn't gotten away with it. The man was using his annoying 'I know you're lying, so I'll act exceedingly patronising towards you' tone.
"So are you prepared for this tape Ichigo? It follows on from the last tape...you were surprisingly vocal through out both sessions" he asked. Ichigo was slightly thankful for the change in conversation, although this direction was less than comfortable. He nodded slightly.
"Yeah," he muttered. He pulled at a string from inside the pocket of his jeans, where his hands were safely jammed.
"Are you sure? You know what this tape includes?" Aizen persisted. Ichigo growled slightly.
"Yes, I know what it includes. I'm over it...," liar "...I know the truth now..." he didn't believe it though "I'm fine,"
"Yes well...on the tape which you left no time in stuffing into your bag, is another glimpse into your psyche. You open up much more on this tape then the previous, and it is such a break through moment, I had to satisfy myself by listening to it twice," Aizen said, his knowing smirk still plastered across his face. Ichigo looked at him oddly.
"And once wasn't enough?" he questioned sarcastically.
"No, it wasn't," Aizen answered. Ichigo was beginning to reconsider his being there when the other man stood up. He flinched.
"I think it would be best for you to wait outside for your boyfriend Ichigo," he said, pointing slightly. Ichigo raised one brow. He'd had to stand up to say that?
"Um, okay," he said, removing his hand from his pocket to open the door. He flinched slightly at the creak.
"Ah yes, I'm needing to get Nnoitra to fix that door. It's overdue a good oiling," Ichigo turned swiftly at the sound of Aizen's voice, where he stood by the window, looking out. His back was to him. Ichigo nodded, before realizing he couldn't see him.
"Yeah," he said, awkwardly, pulling at the door only to be stopped yet again by the man's voice.
"Oh and Ichigo, when will I be getting these tapes back?" he asked.
"You mean I can't keep them?" Ichigo asked incredulously.
"That would be rather unprofessional of me though...wouldn't it Ichigo?" Aizen asked, turning to face him slightly. Ichigo gulped slightly.
"Yeah...I'll give them back when I'm finished," he said, quietly, thinking to the small pile of tapes on his coffee table.
Not giving the other man a chance to stop him he pulled open the door quickly and shut it behind him with a small thud. He glanced down the corridor, but the only person there was the secretary, who gave him a small wave. He waved back dejectedly. Grimmjow was late.
He resigned himself to one of the chairs lined up along the wall, ignoring the nostalgia that hit him. The amount of times he'd sat outside that office. He shook his head slightly, shutting his eyes to clear his thoughts, when hurried footsteps hit his ears.
He opened his eyes to the sight of his boyfriend, walking quickly down the corridor growling at the secretary's polite enquiring. Ichigo let a small smile slip onto his face as he watched the other man take to the building like a cat to water. He could practically imagine the other's hair bristling. He stood, coughing slightly, alerting the man to his presence.
He watched as Grimmjow turned to face, him, his glare lessening slightly. He raised his hand.
"Hey," he said softly. He didn't put his hand in his pocket, instead fiddling with his bag strap absent mindedly.
"Er hey," Grimmjow replied, glancing round the gloomy corridor. He leaned in.
"You really had to come here every week?" he whispered. Ichigo fought down a laugh and rolled his eyes.
"I still do," he whispered back. Not for long, he thought. He looked over where the secretary was watching Grimmjow with unconcealed suspicion and cleared his throat.
"Er, so shall we go then?" he asked. Grimmjow shook his head.
"I wanna speak to this, Aizen first," he said, his face set. Ichigo looked confused.
"Why?" he asked, sounding incredulous. Grimmjow glanced sideways at him.
"I wanna see who my boyfriend has been visiting every week or the past god knows how many years," Grimmjow said loudly, turning to look pointedly at the secretary, who was avoiding eye contact, her face rather red.
"Three" Ichigo muttered under his breath, fighting down the blush that had formed across his face. He would have face-palmed, only that would have increased the red-ness of his face.
"So where is he?" his boyfriend continued, looking around as if Aizen were hiding behind various objects. Ichigo rolled his eyes....again.
"In his office probably," he said, knowing full well he was in his office. Grimmjow picked up on this.
"Probably? You were just in there right?" he asked. Ichigo conceded.
"Well....yes," he said shrugging.
"Right," Grimmjow said nodding slightly, heading towards the first door he saw. Ichigo, hurriedly walked after him, hissing his name.
"It's this one right?" Grimmjow said, pointing towards Aizen's office.
"Yes but...Grimm!" he said angrily as his boyfriend opened the door and walked in.
Aizen was sitting at his desk, notebook open. He didn't look shocked. If anything he looked as though he was expecting his boyfriend to march in looking like Satan.
"Ah...Ichigo," he said, looking past Grimmjow at Ichigo, who was hovering by the door "this must be Grimmjow," Ichigo nodded, glaring at the man. It was obvious who he was.
"You're Aizen right," Grimmjow said, leering down at the man. Aizen smiled back, albeit in a rather creepy way.
"Yes, I am Aizen Sousuke, Ichigo's psychiatrist. I'm presuming that you are Ichigo's...partner," he said, entwining his hands beneath his chin. Ichigo watched as Grimmjow's eyes twitched, revealing his aggravation.
"I'm Ichigo's boyfriend yes," he said, emphasis on the 'boyfriend'. Ichigo took this as a sign to step into the room. He placed a hand on Grimmjow's arm lightly.
"Grimm," he said quietly. He was shrugged off.
"And dare I ask why you have barged into my office in such a manner? Ichigo, it was barely seconds ago that you were last in here, do you desire my presence so much?"
This was why he never wanted them to meet.. Aizen and Grimmjow. Aizen with his flirty, overly confident attitude and Grimmjow with his barely reigned in possessive, also overly confident personality. The two did not mix well, and as the temperature dropped in the room, Ichigo resisted the urge to bolt.
"Grimm...jow, just wanted to meet you," he said, trying to defuse the situation. He decided against the pet name in the presence of Aizen. God knows what the man's twisted mind would take from it. 'Ah, your using pet names are you Ichigo? This tells me that you are very comfortable around this man....tell me, do you use them in bed?'. No, he would stop that one before it started.
"Well then, hello. I have already introduced myself, but I shall do it again regardless. Aizen Sousuke," he said, holding out a hand. Grimmjow seemed to eye it wearily, before grabbing it.
"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques," he said gruffly.
Ichigo could have slammed his head against the wall on the realization that they were competing on handshake grip. Instead he merely waited until they pulled away.
"So tell me, what was the real reason for your visit," Aizen asked. Ichigo watched with interest as Grimmjow debated with himself on what to say. He himself had no idea why he was there. Grimmjow seemed to decide, then leaned in, his face mere inches from Aizen's. Ichigo watched the event unfold with horror.
"Okay then, I'll jus' come out and say it.. If you screw my boyfriend up with your psychiatrist shit or touch him inappropriately, I will fucking kill you,"
Ichigo felt his eyes widen as the words left his boyfriends lips, his blush (which had still not fully gone) coming back tenfold. His mouth opened and closed a few times as his boyfriend leaned back, glaring at the man, who was still smiling eerily.
"I'm glad we're on the same wave length here Mr. Jaegerjaques. Neither of those you just implied are my intent. I wish only to help," Aizen said, and Ichigo wondered if Grimmjow noticed the short change of expression flash across his face. Probably not. His eyes were to busy glaring.
Now thoroughly embarrassed, Ichigo stalked forward grabbing his boyfriend by the arm and dragging him to the door before he could say or do anything else.
"It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Jaegerjaques. And of course a pleasure seeing you Ichigo," Aizen called to them as they left and the door swung shut. Ichigo proceeded to lead his boyfriend out the building and it was only when they were a safe distance away and alone (as far as he could see) that he whirled around, eyes blazing.
"Let's get this straight. You insist on meeting me and walking home with me...so you could threaten my physiatrist?" Ichigo asked, hands clenched. Grimmjow had the nerve to look nonchalant.
"Yeah," he said, grinning slightly before seeming to realize something.
"I mean I would have met you anyway," smooth "...but that was just...extra," he said shrugging. Ichigo raised a brow. They began to walk.
"Extra," he said, his fingers forming quotations. Grimmjow shrugged.
"I was going to do it at some point anyway," he said. Ichigo looked incredulous.
"What, threaten him?" he said.
"Warn him," Grimmjow said darkly. Ichigo hid face.
"You didn't have to," he said. Grimmjow shrugged.
"I know," he said confidently. Ichigo looked up sharply.
"Ya may be short, but ye can sure pack a punch when ye want to," he said, grammar going down hill as he gave Ichigo a small shove. Ichigo batted his hand away.
"Shut up, I'm not short," he said.. It was good walking with Grimmjow. He didn't have to think as much. Everything became so much easier. He flinched slightly when he felt a warm arm wrap round his waist, but didn't shrug it off.
"Grimm...we're in public," he said quietly, eyes darting around as if a homophobe were about to leap out a tree with a machete.
"So what?" Grimmjow said. Ichigo sighed. He'd always been more open when it came to his sexuality. On no account did Ichigo hide it, but he was more wary about what people would do.
"Come on Ichi...there's no one around," Grimmjow whispered, meaning down, his breath ghosting Ichigo's neck. Ichigo shuddered, but conceded, relaxing into his grip. It was kind of nice. He felt safer. More secure.
"Your still not wearing yer coat," he heard Grimmjow say. The deep vibrations of his voice ran through him.
"I forgot...again," he said.
"Well when yer dying of hypothermia, don' come askin' me for anythin'," Grimmjow said, tightening his grip around his wait slightly.
Ichigo would have rolled his eyes, but for the fact the other man wouldn't have seen it. His eye rolling would have been in vain.
As they walked into the house, literally joined at the hip, Ichigo shuddered slightly. Normally the house had been warmed by Grimmjow (the man unable to stand intense cold or heat), but as they walked in together there was a light chill. Grimmjow seemed to notice his shiver and released his grip on Ichigo, shrugging off his jacket.
"Here," he said gruffly. Ichigo took it awkwardly.
"Just put it on, you're making me cold just looking at ya," Grimmjow said, walking through into the kitchen. Ichigo smiled slightly, pulling it on. He followed Grimmjow into the kitchen, and grabbed the kettle. He noticed Grimmjow looking at him oddly, and he tilted his head.
"Want a hot chocolate?" he asked. Grimmjow's face formed a smirk.
"Nah, I'll have some beer. Ya know. A man's drink," he said, reaching into the fridge to pull out his 'mans drink'. Ichigo scowled.
"Probably why men's average life expectancy is lower then women's," he said, pouring a sachet into his mug. Grimmjow snapped open the can.
"You're a man, too, though, Ichi...barely, but..."
Ichigo just glared at him.. This was good. This was friendly arguing.
"A man who is so confidant in his masculinity that he can afford to drink hot chocolate," he said, pouring the boiling water into the mug, and opening the fridge to grab the milk.
There was a moment of comfortable silence as Ichigo indulged in his chocolate and Grimmjow took deep gulps of beer.
"So...I've got the tape," Ichigo said, approaching the topic slowly. Grimmjow nodded.
"Yeah," he said. Another moment of silence.
"Shall we listen to it then eat? Or do you want me to cook something now?" Ichigo asked. Grimmjow shook his head.
"We can eat afterwards," he said. His happy mood was slowly deteriorating before Ichigo's eyes, and he quickly went to grab his bag, afraid it would have vanished by the time he got back. As it were, Grimmjow was sitting, usual place, watching the empty tape player. He walked in, at the same time removing the tape from his bag.
He opened it..
And put it in.
And pressed play.
"Ichigo...are you willing to tell me today?"
"About what," Ichigo listened to his sixteen year old voice, so dejected, so...lost.
"About what happened when you were twelve. About when you met...Hichigo, I believe you told me,"
There was a silence.
"Ichigo, you're going to have to tell me..."
"Fine. You want me to tell you? To tell you how I met him?"
"Yes Ichigo, I would like that very much,"
"...I was tired..."
A whole year. A whole year had passed since he had first seen that woman. A whole year since she ruined his life, turning it into
One big hazy mess of color.
He didn't sleep too often. He'd read about it. It was called insomnia. It started out with the nightmares, each night growing more and more vivid, more and more horrific as he was forced to see things again and again and again. With the constant threat of his sister's well being looming over him, his dreams were very often filled with their deaths. Even he was amazed at how many methods of killing his mind had thought up. Sometimes it would be the woman. And sometimes it would be him, standing over their bodies holding the knife, the gun, the rope, the vase, the saw, the table leg. The worst was when it was just his own hands, and he was forced to watch them choke the life out of them, watch as they spasmed beneath him.
So he didn't sleep. Who needed sleep when you could have sweet, sweet caffeine? The mixture of coffee and energy drinks managed to keep him up during the day, just enough so he was awake.
And so it was safe to say, when he wrote in his journal on that hot summer day, that it almost hurt to hold the pen. He looked across the page.
Did 2 hours exercise. Not enough. Fuck, you're so weak. So fucking weak. weak.
Weak. He'd somehow managed to scribble the word across the entire page multiple times, almost subconsciously. It wasn't surprising though. It was true.
True, he'd managed to build some muscle. His skin was now taught across his arms and legs and stomach, the faint outlines of muscles giving the illusion of a six pack. He lifted his top, smiling slightly to himself as he noticed this. He poked it slightly, relishing in the fact that it was hard. No longer did his finger sink into his skin. But then as he looked into the mirror it vanished. Weak. He was still weak. He was still small, scrawny. His hands tensed at the thoughts, and he immediately dropped to the floor, his hands
pushing against it as he began another grueling routine.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5
He didn't know when, but soon the numbers began to form words.
Weak, Pathetic.
He found himself muttering them on each press, his eyes glazed. He could almost hear them creak and strain as he continued. It was only when the burning began that he allowed himself to drop to the floor. He lay there for a few moments, panting heavily, before dragging himself to his feet. He pulled himself onto the chair by his desk, and grabbed his pen.
Still not enough...
He wiped the tears that began to form at the revelation away with a heavy arm, smearing sweat across his face. Still it was better that then to cry; to show the ultimate weakness.
"Ichigo," he flinched at the sound of his name being called from the bottom of the stairs. It was her.. He fought down his anger and took several deep breaths.
"I'm coming," he shouted, trying to appear normal. God knows what she'd do if he didn't. He approached the stairs, dragging his legs. There she was, standing and the bottom of the stairs. Her hideously messy hair hung loose around her face and her smirk was calculating. She beckoned with a grubby finger..
"Get here now berry," she said. He nodded, gripping the banister as he walked down them. He winced as she grabbed his arm, effectively pulling him down the remaining three steps.
"You were late," she hissed. Ichigo nodded. Disagreeing only made it worse. He dug his nails into his palm. He'd get stronger, strong enough to over power her. Her grip tightened.
"I called you down. You took too long," she continued, gripping his arms with her other hand, effectively giving him a chinese burn. He winced.
"What were you doing?" she asked.
"Writing," Ichigo said. She grinned.
"That's nice berry. But can you be a little quicker next time," she said, tightening her grip even more. Ichigo just nodded. She released him sharply, shoving him backwards into the banister. He gasped as his already aching muscles hit the wood. She merely
smiled at him.
"Go and cook dinner," she said. Ichigo nodded. He'd been cooking it for a while now. She'd forced him into the kitchen and made him cook, ordering him from her seat at the kitchen table. She told his father she was teaching him 'vital skills'. She was making him cut vegetables, occasionally 'assisting' him. She made him bandage his fingers afterward as well.
He searched through the drawer for a knife, tensing as she followed him into the room..
"You know what berry? That stove looks pretty dirty," he looked over to it. It was so clean it was shiny.
"I think you should clean it," she said. Ichigo bit his lip, opening and rummaging through a drawer for a cloth.
"No, wait... you should clean your hands first," she said, smiling. Ichigo nodded, feeling confused. He watched as she walked over to the sink and turned on the tap.
"You should wait for it to get hot," she said. He nodded. He put his hands forward, towards the water, only to find them slapped away.
"No, no. I said wait until it gets hot," she said. Ichigo felt himself break into a slight sweat as he watched the water grow hotter...and hotter, until steam itself was rising off. He could practically feel the heat from there..
"Okay berry. Now wash your hands," she said. He looked up, to see if she was completely serious. She was. Her face was set, smiling.
"Come on now berry. Isshin will be home soon with Yuzu and Karin," she said, a barely concealed threat had he ever heard one. He gulped, moving his hands closer to the stream of water. He couldn't do it. It was too hot. She seemed to sense this and shook her head.
"You're being stupid now berry," she grabbed his wrists.
"All I want is for you to wash your hands," she moved them closer.
"Why can't you just wash your fucking hands?" they were too close.
"Can you not even do that by yourself?"
She rammed them forward, and Ichigo couldn't help the scream that leapt from his throat. The water cascaded across them, burning, scorching, unbearable. It was like the heat was ignoring his skin and heading straight to the bone, in hurt so bad, as his nerves kicked in and he tried to wrench them back. He struggled, shaking his wrists, but her grip just tightened. His hands spasmed under the heat and tensed, trying to break through her iron grip.
Finally after what seemed like hours she released him, and he yanked them backwards, breathing heavily.
"There now...all clean," she said, as Ichigo stared at his now red hands. His skin felt like it was melting, and for a second he thought he was going to collapse. Then he felt her grab his already abused wrists and pull him back under the water, only now it was cold. Soothing.
"Don't you feel clean berry?" she asked. He couldn't answer. His mouth wasn't working right. He felt her grab his hand, and he stifled a yelp.
"I asked you a question berry," she said, not relinquishing her hold. He felt tears spring into his eyes, and swallowed a sob. Crying only showed how weak he was.
"Yes," he whispered hoarsely.
"Yes what?" she asked.
"Yes...Ayako," he coughed. She smiled.
"Now your hands' are clean, you can clean the stove," she said, releasing him with a quick shove. He nodded, biting his lip with anger. If only he was stronger. He could have escaped. Breathing heavily, he moved his scalded hands towards the cloth, feeling his skin begin to blister slightly. He grabbed the cloth, biting back a gasp as his stinging fingers gripped the fabric. It was like acid was being poured onto an open wound. He felt the cloth slip clumsily through his swelling grip, and quickly maneuvered his hands so it didn't fall to the floor.
"I said you can clean the stove now," she said.. He looked up to see her leaning against the counter. She was grinning.
"I'm doing it," he said quietly. He walked over to the stove, and flopped his hand onto it. It felt slightly disconnected by the pain.
"Scrub," she repeated. And he did. He bit his lip so hard that blood began to pool in his mouth, and drip down his chin. But he still scrubbed. Even when the pain was so intense he nearly blacked out, he scrubbed. Because if he didn't, she'd say he hadn't cleaned his hands well enough. And that would hurt a lot more.
He'd had to lie. Of course he'd had to lie when his father had come home. He'd decided to cook the dinner without that woman. It was a stupid thing to do, but he'd needed to put the boiled potatoes in water. It had spilt all over his hand. She'd found him, ran it under hot water, sprayed it with burn spray and wrapped it in gauze.. He'd had to thank her and apologies for being so stupid. It hurt him more then the burns.
The last year had made him change in school. He no longer waited for them to throw the first punch. Instead he was the one threatening them, his temper short. He was quick to argue, and it isolated him even more. Now not only was he a loner, but people were scared of him. His father was called in on account of his 'bullying'. He'd apologized. Said it wouldn't happen again. It did.
It was a week after the burns. His hands still ached, but that may have been on account of him continuing to do press ups, despite the agonizing pain. The phrase 'no pain no gain' was taken to the extreme in this case. But it was worth it as he felt his taut skin, his defined muscles.
He stared in the mirror at his torso. It still wasn't enough. He barely concentrated on his face. It just made him feel worse. The bags under his eyes were heavy and dark, his skin now a permanent pale shade. This was probably the reason his father had forced him out the house that day, in a rare serious moment.
"Ichigo are you okay?"
"Yeah I'm fine," he said avoiding direct eye contact with the man.
"You've been looking tired recently and you've gotten into a lot of fights in the past few months, not to mention how accident prone you've got" he continued.
"I'm fine,"
"Well, you look like you could use some sun my son!" he suddenly exclaimed after a moments thought. Ichigo's eyes widened.
"What?" he said, his mouth open as his father ushered him towards the front door.
"Go out and play with your friends!" he said happily. Ichigo debated whether to grab the door frame, but decided instead just to allow his father to shove him out the door.
"Stay in the shade though my son. Your hair colour and complexion mean you burn easily," his father said smiling crazily.
"But..." he began.
"No protesting Ichigo, Ayako is coming round tonight and I want you to have soaked up sufficient sun before she arrives," Ichigo disguised the wince as a twitch. He rammed his fingers in his pockets and pulled his hood up over his head. Despite the weather it was better not to have people staring at his hair color. So he put up with it, allowing himself to sweat freely.
He wandered round, eventually coming to a park. It was surprisingly nice, this walk. There was no woman there for once, and he felt he could let his guard down some. Not all the way. Never all the way, but some.
He sat, on the bench, scuffing his feet against the dirt when he first heard him.
"Ain't ya hot?"
His head shot up to stare at the speaker, his eyes coming to rest on a boy. He was taller then him from what he could see, and looked older. His skin was even paler then his, and his eyes...his eyes were strange. As was his hair. But who was he to judge? He felt himself tense as he looked at the boy who was wearing a grin almost as wide as his face.
"No," he replied finally. There was a moment's silence.
"You don't talk much do ya?" the boy said, mockingly. Ichigo curled his hand into a fist, ignoring the pain.
"No," He said through gritted teeth "I talk plenty,"
The other boy walked towards him.
"Then why ain't ya? Are ya too good fer me or somethin'?"
The boy stopped directly in front of him. Ichigo didn't reply. The boy leant down.
"Am I right? You think yer some kinda king or somethin'?"
Ichigo couldn't help it. It was too funny. He laughed. The idea of him being a king was so stupid. The other boy looked angry.
"What the fuck ye laughin' fer?" he said, glaring. Ichigo shook his head, trying to stop the laughter. It was borderline hysterical now. It hurt.
"Stop it," the boy said grabbing his collar. Ichigo calmed himself down enough to say
"I'm not laughing at you,"
The boy dropped his collar and sat next to him on the bench, looking at him oddly.
"Then what?" he asked. Ichigo noticed his voice had an odd metallic sound to it.
"Just... me being a king. It's laughable," he said.
"You got a crown, though, yeah?" the other boys said, grin now back on face. It was Ichigo's turn to look oddly at the other..
"What? No I haven't" he said, instinctively feeling the top of his head. The other boy burst into laughter and Ichigo felt his face burn with embarrassment.
"Shut up," he said angrily, standing as is to leave. The other boy grabbed his arm, and he flinched, pulling it back against himself like a wounded animal. The boy gave him an odd look.
"Easy King, I'm jus' playin'" he said. Ichigo bristled at the nickname, but sat back down anyway.
"What's yer real name then?" the boy asked. Ichigo debated telling him, and decided that it wouldn't do any harm.
"Ichigo," he said quietly waiting for the reaction.
"Ha, like strawberry? Tha's hilarious," the boy said laughing. Ichigo flinched at the name. At least he wasn't calling him...
"Berry. Heh, can I call ya berry?" he shook his head vigorously.
"No. Call me anything but...that," he said darkly. The other boy seemed to sense his mood and held up his hands.
"Alright then. King," he said, not a moments hesitation. Ichigo sighed and let it slide. It was better then...the other name, and it wasn't like he was going to be seeing much of the other boy right?
"What's your name?" Ichigo asked, suddenly remembering. The other boy grinned.
"Hichigo," he said. Ichigo scowled.
"No it's not. That's too similar to my name," he said with finality. The other boy just laughed.
"Your name's just too similar to my name," he said, leaning back on the bench. Ichigo just scowled.
"Tha's all yer gettin' from me. Believe it if ya will," 'Hichigo' said. Ichigo just shrugged. He was too tired for this.
"Whatever," he said.
"Meet me here tomorrow, same time," Hichigo said. Ichigo looked up at him. Was he for real? He appeared to be, and Ichigo just nodded knowing too well he just wouldn't show up. The other boy just grinned at him, waved mockingly and walked away.
Ichigo did end up going. Each time. His father was pleased. Pleased he was going out and meeting 'friends'. Hichigo turned out to be good to talk to. He said nothing himself, being far too evasive a person to let anything slip. But he listened. Ichigo found himself liking the older boy, despite his odd mannerisms and habits. He reminded him of himself for some strange reason. It was safe to say that when the other boy found out what was happening he wasn't exactly...pleased.
Ichigo had been waiting, usual spot, usual stance only this time slightly more hunched over. He'd heard the familiar footsteps and looked up to see Hichigo. He smiled slightly.
"Hey," he said, raising his hand in a wave. The other boy grinned.
"Hey King," he said, dropping down next to him and taking a cigarette from his pocket. Ichigo glared at it.
"You shouldn't do that you know," he said. The other boy feigned innocence.
"What? This?" he said, lighting it and taking a deep drag. Ichigo wrinkled his nose at the smoke plume which began to smother his face and coughed.
"Yes that. It's bad for your health," he said, fanning the air around his head. He noticed the boy's eyes target in on his hand, and only then Ichigo realised his bandaged wrist was showing slightly, the bandage peeking out from under his sleeve. He quickly
grabbed his sleeve, pulling it down. He looked away.
"Bad for my health, yeah?" Hichigo said, in a voice which told Ichigo that he wasn't talking about smoking. Ichigo ignored him.
"What's that then?" the boy asked, flicking his cigarette in the direction of Ichigo. Ichigo shook his head.
"Nothing," he said, quietly. There was a short silence. Ichigo fiddled with his sleeve.
"If it's nothing then you can show me it," Ichigo noticed the change in speech. It meant he was serious. Ichigo reluctantly handed him his wrist, and heard the barely audible gasp from the boy when the sleeve was lifted up. Ichigo glanced over at it, and saw the
bandage, hastily tied across his wrist with congealed blood staining various patches. He watched as the other boy dropped his cigarette. It lay there on the concrete by the grass, burning quietly.
"I...I didn't know ye were like that," Hichigo said after a few seconds silence, his expression dark. Ichigo quickly shook his head.
"No, it wasn't me it was…" he stopped and yanked his wrist back. He saw the other boy's pale face cloud.
"Who was it," Hichigo said. Ichigo shook his head again. He felt the other boys pale hands grip his shoulders, shaking him slightly.
"Who the fuck was it?," Ichigo took a deep breath.
"It was...you know...the woman," he said through his hands. It was scary. It felt as though she were going to leap out at any moment.
"The one you're always mentioning?" Hichigo asked. Ichigo nodded.
"And why do ye never mention this?" he asked, glaring down. Ichigo shook his head.
"I'm not supposed to...she'll hurt my sisters if I do," he said. He heard the other boy swear under his breath, and let go of his shoulders. Ichigo couldn't help but shake at what he'd done. Images flashed violently of his sisters, and suddenly he knew he had to go home. He had to see if they were alright. He stood up.
"Hey...King...wait," the other boy jogged to catch up with him, but Ichigo didn't slow down.
"Fuuuck," he heard the other curse, long and drawn out, as he tried to stop him. He felt him grab his shoulders again, and he tried to shake him off, but his heart wasn't into it.
"What," he said quietly. The other boy seemed at a loss of what to say.
"Just...meet me here tomorrow, same time okay?" he asked. Ichigo nodded promising. That would be okay, but for now he had to go home to see if they were alright. And to shower. He definitely needed a shower.
He kept his promise. He met him there the next day, same time. Surprisingly the older boy was there before him. His face was grim.
"Hey," he said, as per usual. The other boy studied his face carefully before replying.
"Tell me," he said. Ichigo shook his head. He'd told him too much already.
"Was she the reason you were limping two weeks ago?" he asked. Ichigo nodded slightly.
"When you came here with bruises? That wasn't from a fight?" Ichigo shook his head.
"Well fuck. Tell me King. Tell me what fucking happened," he said. Ichigo turned to face him, peering out from behind his hood. He bit his lip.
"I can't," he said. Hichigo sighed loudly.
"Then what? What the fuck do you want from me?" he asked angrily. Ichigo looked up, feeling his heart rate quicken. What did he want from him? He licked his lips and swallowed.
"To...I want you to help,"
"Ichigo...when you were telling me this... are you aware that you..."
"Shut up,"
"Ichigo?"
"I said shut up. I don't want to talk anymore. I'm leaving,"
"As you wish Ichigo. Same time next week however, will you tell me the rest?"
There was a silence.
"Yeah..."
The tape stopped and Ichigo reached over, stopping it. Yet again the room was bathed in a thick silence and Ichigo shook his head to clear his thoughts. It was the present. That was the past. He no longer needed to do one thousand press-up's to prove his worth. He no longer drank coffee. He didn't need it, was better off without it.
Funny that. It wasn't affecting him as much as the other tapes, like he was almost getting used to it. If there was one thing Ichigo loved, it was routine. It kept everything simple. And right now, the wave of illness that had hit him the previous two tapes was lesser. In fact he was more worried how Grimmjow would react.
He turned to look over at his boyfriend.
"Grimm?" he asked. There was no answer. His boyfriend appeared deep in thought, and four lines were visible through his hairline, a sure indicator he'd been running his fingers through it.
"Should I start cooking something?" the reply was instantaneous.
"No," Ichigo looked taken aback at the severity of the answer and Grimmjow seemed to sense this.
"I mean, er...we'll order in," he said with some finality. Ichigo had some idea what was behind this change of plan, but decided to ignore that and instead agreed.
"Okay then. Pizza?" he asked.
"Yeah," Grimmjow replied, sounding distracted. Ichigo swallowed.
"I'm fine you know," he said, saying the one thing he should have said from the beginning. He felt the other's eyes on him. "It was a long time ago. I'm better now," he said. Grimmjow looked at him oddly.
"Then why are ye still seeing a shrink?" he asked, sounding slightly suspicious. Ichigo thought of how best to answer this.
"I...I still have the occasional problem," he said.
"Like?" Grimmjow pressed further.
"I'm not so good with crowd, or new people. I've still got...trust issues," he said, the two words leaving a bad taste on his tongue. Aizen always referred to it as such.
His boyfriend seemed unable to think of a suitable answer. Ichigo spared him.
"So have you been talking about me to Ulquiorra then?" he asked. There. Subject change.
"What? No," he said, furrowing his brows. Ichigo blinked.
"Then how does he know who I am," he said, referring to their strange meeting days previous. Grimmjow scowled.
"I mean I've mentioned you and stuff, but not a full blown conversation," he said.. Ichigo nodded.
"Yeah. Sure," he said, grinning. Grimmjow didn't rise to the bait, instead taking his hands in his. Ichigo just watched as the man stared at them, as though committing them to memory. He shifted them, grabbing one of Grimmjow's and entwining them, smiling
lightly at his questioning look.
"See? Fine," he said. Grimmjow looked away.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said gruffly.. Ichigo's smile widened, turning into a grin as he stood up and straddled the older man ignoring his bewildered expression. He leant in, his lips hovering mere centimeters away.
"Perfectly fine," he said, feeling himself pulled down, his lips captured at bruising speed. He smiled into the kiss. He just hoped he would be alright after the next tape...and more than that, Grimmjow.
tbc.
Review? Was it okay? Suggestions? Thankyou for reading this far by the way ^_^
Next chapter will be focused more on Hichigo and Ichigo (during the tape) ...and rest assured the GrimmIchi tapes will be coming soon enough...so you have that to look forward to...I think I'm beginning to hate my own OC more than I did before...on rereading, she is really evil...and it's slightly scary to think she was the product of my mind 0.o...