Disclaimer: I do not own!

To LOVEru Kira

Chapter IV

Grimmjow sat in his livingroom on one end of his suede black couch, one arm on the arm rest and the other slung over the back. Three others were in the room with him; Szayel, Starrk and Nnoitra. All played different roles in his life, providing everything he once thought was all that was necessary.

Each one was both a friend and an aquaintance; Szayel was both a scientist and a medical professional, Starrk owned the house he lived in and kept it up to par when he was away on personal business. Finally there was Nnoitra. He was the closest part of family he had since Nnoi was like a brother to him, no matter how rude and albiet... dirty minded and outspoken. Something he'd rather not go on about.

The room was quiet as they waited for Grimmjow to speak. They were spread about the room; Nnoitra on the other end of the couch, Szayel standing off to the side with arms crossed and Starrk on the other side of the coffee table in the recliner.

Without moving his head his eyes scanned the room, taking in their every move and stance like always before speaking.

"It's Ichigo." He said and assessed their reactions, Szayel nodded slightly as if confirming earlier questions.

"That would make sense, he is the only one who can get you so... well get under your skin. I may not know much but I do observe when you've been around him," he paused and smirked, "And tonight you seem to sort of... glow." Szayel looked him straight in the eyes, the blue-haired man couldn't help but grin.

"Yeah, that's 'cause I fucked him."

"Somehow, Grimm-kitty, I can't see that happenin' so soon without usin' force. Did you rape the kid?" Nnoitra snickered.

"Can't call it rape if someone enjoys it, and ya should of seen him," his grin grew as he imagined his berry moanig beneath him, "He liked it alright."

After getting out their small fits of laughter the room was silent once more. Grimmjow himself was now having an inner struggle with words. Starrk beat him to it, "Grimmjow, I know you didn't call us out here just for small talk. What's really on your mind?"

Grimmjow could hear them suck in a breath and hold it in anticipation. He fought the urge to screw it and tell them to fuck off.

"I need some type of advice-"

"Pfft, you need advice, ya stubborn arrogant prick? Ha! That's a first." Nnoitra cackled but quieted with a glare from the man.

"Anyway... I think I might have actual feelings for him."

Szayel's gaze softened ever so slightly.

"Grimmjow. We can tell... you've always had feelings towards him, from the very beginning even if you didn't realize it yourself." Everyone seemed to confirm this with their silence.

No, he wasn't ready to admit, even to himself, that what he felt was anything more than possession over the kid back then.

"It was never like that until now, back then it was just a sort of possession."

"Quit lyin' to yerself, jackass. Grow some tits and admit it, it was love at first sight." Nnoitra's hidden saying didn't go unnoticed by Grimmjow. He received a punch to his arm that would have left it nearly broken in half if he hadn't moved away, a bruise was good enough.

"I ain't a chick, dumbass, but you'll be soon when you see your dick and nuts nailed to the wall." Grimmjow caught Nnoitra visibly shudder and cup the front of his pants as if to protect his manhood from danger.

"Now, where were we? Oh, yeah. It was pure lust and possesion."

"Get over it, Grimmjow. For once I agree with Nnoitra. Think about it for a while, and maybe then you'll actually get somewhere." Szayel held a tone of finality.

Grimmjow snorted and looked away.

~7 Years Ago~

Grimmjow roamed the dark streets of Karakura and stepped foot into a large tree-filled park. His mind was occupied by Aizen's offer to join him, he was debating with himself. Once he agreed to Aizen there would be no going back, but was the life he was currently living even that exciting? No... nothing was ever very exciting, only the thrill of watching someone suffer. He might just do it for the hell of it.

That when he saw him.

Even in the darkness of the night he could spot a head of bright orange hair. Taking a closer look the kid seemed to be around seventeen with a finely built body. Very fine in fact... who would have a sinful body like that? The question drew him to find the answer and it made him curious.

The kid was surrounded by what looked to be rough punks from his school, seeing as they wore the proper uniform. There were six of them in all and they circled dangerously around the orangette who had a face of stone.

Grimmjow felt a strange pang in his chest as he listened to the guys mock him and tease him, the reason causing him to watch more intently to see how the boy would react.

"Poor you, it must be hard not having a mother," One said, sneering at him as another picked up where he left off.

"It's all your fault she's dead. She couldn't stand you anymore, she never cared about you."

"No one will ever care about you." The guy standing in front of the kid suddenly lunged at him and Grimmjow was doubting the kid could make it for very long.

The others attacked him all at once, Grimmjow was surprised and had to blink twice at what he was seeing. The kid was taking hardly any hits at all and while in the process of dodging their blows he was lending hits of his own. His legs shot out and knocked three off balance, his fists coming into contact with their guts and faces, leaving them bloody. Two ran off, the others stayed.

When the man thought the fight would never end and looked away he heard a sickening thud, accompanied by laughing. His head snapped around to find the kid on the ground in the fetal position, their feets connecting with his body harshly. Yet... he made no sound, not a whimper of pain nor a cry for help during his defeat.

After what seemed like forever they took their leave, spitting insults as they left. The kid was faced away from him so he couldn't tell if he was conscious... or even still alive. He seemed to be hholding his breath.

Why should he care if he gets up? What exactly was he doing here watching something like this that would have never mattered to him before? Hell, if he knew. It was strange to him, though. The orangette seemed to have drawn him in from the start; his hair, those fiery eyes, his body, his aura... his everything.

He spotted movement in front of him from where he was in the bushed... seemingly his favorite place to hide nowadays.

Watching silently, the kid sat up ever so slowly and showing only slight hints of pain. He drew himself up onto his hands and knees before sitting back on his legs.

He was strong, Grimmjow would give him that.

As he looked on he could see the kid's fists clench tight, it seemed as though he was fighting the surge of emotions and supressing them all. Though his eyes were hidden by the shadows cast by his hair as he hung his head he could tell the kid was scarred. All the pain and sadness was revealed to him in the moments he watched.

He heard him take a deep breath then whisper ever so softly, "I'll be strong."

The words barely reached his ears but they were heard... and it was a vow he knew the kid would keep, the one who was now standing and walking away silently into the night.

This boy had Grimmjow yearning for more, to know everything. He wanted to be close to the one who fought, who was stronger than any he had cared to lay his eyes on. But even more than that, a strange feeling, no, an urge in the pit of his stomach told him to do more...

He wanted to protect him.

~4 Years Later~

For years, Ichigo has been the center of attention and yet this was one thing he couldn't put his finger on.

Not long ago, he would become infuriated with himself for losing track of the kid every other night. On these nights, Ichigo would disappear mysteriously and with such skill that even he had trouble trying to keep up. He attempted pursuit multiple times, but every try it was fruitless. It pissed him off to no end, yet also intrigues him. He had denied a job offered to him by a secret organization so he could watch Ichigo... but what good was he when he couldn't even figure out where he went during the dark, long hours of the night and didn't reappear 'til dawn?

By that time he had quit trying to pursue him on those certain nights. If he waited then just maybe... maybe he would discover the truth, although he was never one to be patient.

Sitting outside the kid's house, he noticed lights on when he would usually be sleeping by now. This made him take a closer look.

In the window was Ichigo, pulling off a plain blue shirt-he realized a while back it was his favorite color, how flattering-to replace it with a jet black, long-sleeved shirt that covered every inch of his skin. Seeing his tone chest nearly had Grimmjow drooling, but he held back.

The light turned off and after a couple seconds the front door opened without a sound, his berry slipping silently out of the house into the dark of the night.

Why was Ichigo going out on a night he should be sleeping soundly in his bed? Something was up, and this time, Grimmjow would find the answer.

With interest and determination, he pulled the hood of his jacket up over his head to conceal his blue hair and shade his face from any streetlights he may run into.

While walking, he realized Ichigo was leading him to the park and this time he didn't seem like he was going to randomly disappear as usual. So, taking his chance, he circled around towards the steep riverbank ahead, crawling down and observing where Ichigo stopped before taking his place hidden in the grass. From where the orangette stood, he would not be able to be seen.

Asecond set of footsteps sounded and he knew Ichigo had called to meet someone. He listened carefully with his head down, waiting for a conversation to take place. But he wasn't expecting the voice he heard... his eyes widened in shock. Why would that man be talking to Ichigo? He listened.

"Ah, Ichigo. So, you decided to show? I'm flattered." The man's voice played on mock innocence, the sarcasm and arrogance clearly heard.

"Don't get cocky, now what did you call me here for?" From the way Ichigo spoke towards him, Grimmjow could tell he hated the man. He smirked at this. Damn bastard deserves every ounce of pure hatred and Ichigo was the one to give it.

"You know what I want, Ichigo."

"And you're not getting it, jackass."

"Oh, really? I'll take it by force, you know I will." Grimmjow peeked out over the slope at the scene, witnessing the man grab Ichigo by his throat.

"Let me go, you bastard!" Ichigo struggled against his hold.

"I've waited long enough. Next time I see you, I'm taking you, Ichigo. Don't forget it."

"You'll pay for this," he spat, his words holding a promise only the saints would keep. The man released him. Not wassting another second, Ichigo dashed towards the street with the man calling out to him, "How? You're weak! Never forget that!"

Minutes passed and finally the man took is leave with Grimmjow not far behind. He was oblivious to the other following close behind as he led him to him home.

Of course, the house was a two-story and secluded behind a line of trees. No lights were left on in the house and the landscaping looked well kept.

Memorizing the destination, he took his leave with plenty night to spare. He'd come back... he knew exactly what they were talking about and he couldn't... wouldn't let it happen to his Ichi.

He arrived at his home and ran to his room, packing his supplies that mainly consisted of the finest, sharpest knives that were perfect for killing. He slid the knives into the black belt he wore and headed back out, only using up 45 minutes of his time. There was only a mere two hours 'til dawn so he needed to do this job quickly.

Glancing around, he made sure the coast was clear before dashing out towards the front door. He made it there and fished out a pick from one of his pockets and got down on one knee. From his other pocket he pulled out a tension wrench. He placed it into the lower portion of the keyhole and applied tension to the cylinder in the lock; first clockwise then counterclockwise since he didn't know the lock. He felt the clockwise way give under the wrench a bit more and he smirked, the first step was to figure out which way you turn a key to open a door. He applied torque to the tension wrench in that direction and held it there.

Now was time for the pick to do its job. Taking a deep breath, he inserted his pick into the upper part of the keyhole and pressed upwards, feeling the individual pins in the cylinder. This part was a tendious step and he took his time to 'set' each pin inside the cylinder. Once the pins were set he was able to fully turn the tension wrench in the clockwise direction, unlocking the door with success.

Standing up, he put the pick and tension wrench back into his pocket and replaced the items with one of his sharpest blades. He opened the door as quietly as possible and stepped inside upon hearing his voice. He froze on the spot.

Sighing inwardly, he was thankful for the long entrance hallway so he would not be seen. His back pressed against the wall and he was almost tiptoeing as he made his way to the corner. The man was on the phone at the moment and he sat quietly to listen to the conversation, but he was too late. He heard an angered 'bye' before he saw the phone fly across the room and smash against a wall, pieces of it skidding in different directions as it hit the floor. What made him cock an eyebrow was hearing the man mumble quietly about how his money and all else of value was stolen. He disregarded it without thought and stepped out from the entrance hallway into the livingroom, surprising the other. With blade in hand, he moved in for the kill with murderous intent splayed across his features, his eyes lit with an almost psychotic fire.

Before the man could react, the sharp blade made contact with his throat, slicing throught the delicate flesh with one swipe. The blade came away crimson while blood spurt from the gash in his throat, splattering all over Grimmjow's face and clothes. He grinned wickedly at the exciting scene before him. Blood ran down his body, soaking his clothes and pooling around his body in a gruesome mess as he fell to his knees. Grimmjow spoke, his tone dangerously fierce.

"You'll never hurt my Ichi again. He may not know it, but he's mine and only mine... Aizen."]While watching the light die from his eyes and cloud over, he heard police sirens and it finally dawned on him.

Aizen had been calling the police.

Confusion struck him. Why would he do that when he was clearly the type to get revenge himself?

He ran to each window of the house and found no way to escape, immediately disregarding the front door where the police were bound to come through.

"Shit!" He cursed to himself, deciding it was best to hide his equipment somewhere the police would never find it. His phone was in his hand then and he quickly dialed the number to reach Nnoitra. Nnoitra answered and he told him where to find his things in a couple of days when the police dispersed. He knew he wouldn't be able to escape now without getting caught and Nnoitra could sense this through the urgency in Grimmjow's voice.

Grimmjow clenched his teeth and headed towards the livingroom to stand over the dead body of Aizen, drops of blood splashing onto his shoes like the rest of his blook soaked body as he walked. Taking a deep breath he released it just as the police entered, nearly busting down the door in their haste to get inside.

Seeing him standing over the dead body, they immediately ran towards him and restrained him before snapping silver cuffs on his wrists. He was hauled out with force.

His thoughts srifted to Ichigo... Who would protect him now? He needed to escape the prison he was about to be driven to, he had to escape his life sentence for Ichigo!

-...-

~Present~

He remembered distinctly when they found out that he was the mysterious Karakura Killer. He had esccaped soon after with the help of a few 'friendly' inmates that weren't trying to pick fights with him all the damn time. Most learned their lesson after getting the shit beat out of them.

By the time he escaped, Ichigo was 24 and ripe enough for Grimmjow to have him, he himself was now 29. He had wanted Ichigo, he told himself as soon as he was free; wanted him and he would jump at every opportunity.

He was pulled out of his memories when Szayel called his name.

"Grimmjow... be careful."

"Tch, yeah, yeah. Whatever."

.-...-...-

OMG I know it took me forever to get this chapter done, but I've had a lot to do and it's hard to find the time to write. :( But I will make sure this fanfic gets finished! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and are waiting for the next!