It really shouldn't have surprised Grimmjow when the Shinigami caught up to him. Still, the level of fury was something more than he'd anticipated. A couple of weeks on the run before the Visoreds had found him again, hiding in the pocket spaces between worlds. He was stuck in his newly reclaimed Resurrection, which hindered his movements in both worlds. In Hueco Mundo, he'd be spotted too easily, unable to suppress his reiatsu enough to avoid the stronger Adjuchas just looking for a reason to try and cut him down. And in the Living World, even if most humans were head blind, he couldn't blame them for panicking about a man-sized panther walking around on two legs. So, it really was only a matter of time before Urahara and his bloodhounds found him.
He hadn't expected the level of brutality, the heavy chains around his arms and neck, holding him to the ground of the shopkeeper's basement. The reiatsu draining collar was more normal, but the fist connecting with his cheek and jaw was not. He fell back from the blow, hauled down by the shackles, and grunted, feeling his tail break again. His thighs burned from the broken asauchi embedded in them, but he didn't cry out, he only spat the mouthful of blood back into the retired shinigami's face.
The older man stepped back, still shaking, blood staining his knuckles and the back of his hand as he wiped his mouth. His voice seethed, "Where is he?!"
Grimmjow laughed, loud and sadistic, "Wouldn't ya like ta know, Shinigami!"
The second blow was anticipated, but shocking when it set stars across his vision from a single punch. The voice was grating on his sensitive ears, sharply female, "Aizen's dog. We should've known better."
"Yeah." The feline grinned, refusing to give in. "Ya really think I gave a shit about any single one of ya!? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"RRAUGH! LEMME AT HIM!" The tiniest Visored flailed against the grip of the largest, her eyes bleeding black and her fingers curled into talons, reaching for the one they'd welcomed into their number when he'd escaped the Winter War.
His primary captor stepped into her line of sight with another menacing glare at the Arrancar, "Save your temper, Hiyori-chan. If we tear him to pieces now we'll never find out what he's done with Ichigo. Once Kisuke's given him enough reason to talk, and my son is back with us again, safe and sound, you'll be free to use the Hollow as a punching bag."
"Ya'll never catch Kitten." The Sexta kept grinning.
If they wanted to believe he was solely responsible for Ichigo's death, then he wasn't going to correct them. He knew better, and he had faith that his beloved would show up again when he'd sorted himself out. He had some serious healing to do; his human body had been badly damaged by the disease they hadn't caught in time. And the blunette had to leave it up to the Hollow he knew shared his Kitten's soul.
His own healing was greatly decreased by the reiatsu dampener, and it had him in a lot more pain than he wanted to admit. The edges of his vision kept flickering, growing fuzzy, but he thanked the fact that it added to his delusional façade of being the Sexta Espada again. He didn't even know how they hadn't noticed he had no Hollow hole, the place where it belonged was simply stained black, as though it was painted on, or covered in the same fur as his hands and feet. But in the vaguely intoxicated state of mind where he was half-withdrawing from his medications and half-blood loss, he found the whole thing extraordinarily funny. Much to the irritation of the Shinigami.
Eventually they left, realizing he wasn't going to tell them anything, or possibly they noticed he wasn't exactly coherent. Either way, he was alone when he had the presence of mind to look around again. He bent in half, gripping the burning blade in his left leg with his teeth and pulled. It popped free and the first thing he did was stretch the screaming muscles, flexing his toes in fascination. Then he repeated the process with the right leg, and flopped over in his bonds, staring up at the perpetually sunny ceiling. A tiny voice wormed its way into his mind, begging for moonlight and darkness. He didn't have the wherewithal to squash it before it drove a whimper from his lips.
Truth be told, he didn't know where his mate was, all he knew was that the body the young man had been occupying for the first eighteen years of his life was dead, the spirit inside had been gone long enough that its systems had shut down, unable to handle the strain of working against the virus when the person who owned it had already checked out. So, the feline rested his cheek in the dirt, forcing his tail to twitch passed the broken vertebrae, and hoped that he was right about Ichigo.
"C'mon, Kitten, follow me home. Don' get lost in th' sands. Yer stronger'n that." He murmured, closing his eyes against the burn in his throat and chest.
The next thing he knew there was a pale orange covering his vision and a familiar reiatsu working over his wounds. He opened an eye, unaware when exactly he'd closed them, to see the woman he'd kidnapped so long ago kneeling over him. Her magic shield thing with her healing fairies was doing its stuff, healing the scratches and bruises in spite of the dampener around his neck.
"Whacha doin', woman?" He grumbled. "They'll get pissed if they see ya helpin' me."
"Stay still." Was all she said, concentrating.
Another female voice, one he only knew from training to reclaim his current form, broke the silence, "Not all of us believe that you are guilty of homicide, Jaegerjaques-san."
"Grimmjow." The feline corrected absently.
"Most of us believe that you have been treated cruelly by a grieving father who does not seem capable of seeing the whole picture." Urahara entered his field of vision, pushing the brim of his hat up with the end of his cane. "You've got quite a story to tell, Espada-san. Return Ichigo-kun to us, and perhaps others will be more willing to hear it."
His shackles disconnected from the ground and popped off his wrists just as Orihime called her fairies back. The collar stayed on though. The Hollow hybrid touched it absently, and looked around. Beyond the ones who'd spoken, several of the Shinigami and Visoreds who had been part of the Candy Land ruse were standing around him. They all seemed to have the same attitude about them, distant but more withdrawn into themselves than deliberately antagonistic with him. Their scent was that of people grieving, and he nodded, knowing what they wanted of him.
Then he had arms around his chest, and Yuzu was burying her tear-streaked face against his front, "Bring Nii-chan home, Grimm-nii. He doesn't know how worried we are for him."
Grimmjow smirked softly, running his claws through her bangs, "Count on it, Zuzu."
He pulled away from her, and the others, meeting eyes with each of them. Urahara had given him the key to go undetected in Hueco Mundo, and a streak of bluish-white passed his ear to rip the Garganta for him, launched from a reishi bow at the back of the gathered traitors. He gave a short nod and took off on all fours through the empty nothingness that separated the Living World from the sands of his home.
"Ya really think he can find him, Kissu?" The leader of the Visored spoke what they all were thinking watching the feline's back.
The shopkeeper tucked his hands into the sleeves of his yukata, shading his eyes with his hat. "Let's hope so, Shin-chan. For his sake."
The newly re-appointed captain sighed, and exchanged a look with his comrades. Every single one of them was certain that all hell would break loose if the Espada-cum-Visored failed in his mission to recover their missing Strawberry, especially if Kisuke and Restu were correct in their calculations regarding the infection the pair carried.
As soon as the Garganta closed, Grimmjow was racing through sands he'd never thought he'd miss with a relished freedom he hadn't felt in almost two years. The dunes flew by; crystalline trees the only landmarks under the shining crescent moon. He lowered himself close to the ground to streak in black and cerulean through the shadows, tail and hair streaming out behind him. The ruins of Las Noches grew quickly out of the horizon as he tore over the shifting landscape, and as he drew closer he caught the unmistakable scent of his quarry. A prey he had never given up chasing, and had pledged to always hunt, no matter how long or which form they both took.
He saw the Visored-cum-Arrancar before he was in speaking range, and was hauled up short when his nose was assaulted with the stench of blood. Not fresh blood, rotten, sick, decaying blood. He skidded to a stop, spraying sand against the walls of the ruin, and took to two feet, picking carefully through bodies he didn't recognize. Not Hollows, though they wore masks. He bent down and sniffed one only to flail back hissing.
"They're HUMANS!"
"They were Quincy they said." Came the berry's tired voice. Too tired. His eyes were weary amber instead of bright gold, and his skin was sallow with sickness. "Installed themselves as rulers here while you were gone. Some Bach guy tried to play the 'I knew your mother' card, but Shiro wasn't having any of it."
He looked up, coming closer on unsteady feet. He was no longer in Vasto Lorde form. There were streaks of red under his left eye, and his hair was longer, brushing his shoulders. His kosode was in shreds and there were bloodstains littering his exposed skin. Zangetsu, back where the blade belonged, hung limply from his hand in the old man's slender bankai shape, and the edges of his hakama were ragged. The only other sign that Ichigo was more than the Shinigami he'd been during the Winter War was the dark marking across his chest, where his Arrancar form's Hollow hole belonged.
"Hafta tell the Quincy 'bout it." Grimm commented, kicking a body that looked like something out of a bad horror movie.
Ichigo looked confused.
"The other Quincy. In the human world? With the stick up his ass?"
"Oh, Ishida, yeah. He'll want to know we're apparently cousins." The redhead rubbed the back of his neck and stumbled into the wall, Zangetsu clattering against the stone. "Ugh. Grimm… I don't… don't feel… so… good…"
The feline Visored sonido'd to his mate, scooping the ginger half-Hollow up into his arms with all the care of an injured fraccion. "Easy, Kitten."
"C'n we go home?"
"I'm afraid not, Kurosaki-san." The new voice came from around the corner of the wall, and the captain of the Fourth smiled sadly. "Your reiatsu chambers are seriously depleted due to the nature of your rejuvenation and the virus you unfortunately did not leave behind with your mortal body. I assure you both that no harm will come to you while you are within my care. Not even the Central 46 dares to interrupt my healing process, and as you are both listed as terminally ill, they will never be able to put a hand on you."
Grimmjow raised an eyebrow, his ears slicking back against his neck, and his tail lashed behind him. "If there's one thing I've learned from livin' in the Human World, it's TONSTAFL. There ain't no such thing as a free lunch. What's yer angle, Shinigami? What'd'ya want from us fer lettin' ya take us back ta Soul Society?"
Unohana stepped closer, showing that she was effectively unarmed, though they both knew that she was a master in the demonic arts. She held up her hands, palms facing outward, "Besides your actual cooperation in this, I have three requests. One, that I am allowed to take over as your primary caregiver in replacement of your Living World doctor. Two, that you both allow Urahara-san to assist me in researching your particular ailment, since it is both alike and dissimilar to Ukitake-san's own illness in that it seems to affect your soul forms as well as your gigai. And finally, three, I would like very much that you attend a support group I run among the Shinigami. The last request is entirely voluntary and your participation does not affect your protection under my services at all. However, I feel you would both greatly benefit from being there, and interacting with the others." She smiled sweetly, though there was an undercurrent implying that she was going to get her way whether they agreed or not. "Does this sound reasonable?"
Silence stretched among them. Small movements from behind the powerful captain betrayed the presence of her trusted fourth seat, Hanataro. If Ichigo was honest, the shy Shinigami put him more at ease than any offer of protection or aid from Unohana. So he looked up at his mate, and nodded, his eyes drifting closed with exhaustion.
"Fine. We'll come wit' ya."
Unohana was glad to hear it, smiling more kindly than she had been. Then she drew Minazuki and didn't tear the fabric between worlds so much as coax it open gently, as though her blade was a key. She gestured to Hanataro, and he bowed, grinning at Ichigo. There was a pause before he ran into the Garganta where he turned to flash that smile over his shoulder.
"I'm really glad you're back, Ichigo-san. A lot of us really missed you."
Then he was gone, laying down the smoothest reiatsu path either half-Hollow had ever seen.
The captain of the Fourth brought up the rear, probably to ensure that both debilitated males actually followed through on their agreement with her. It made Grimmjow nervous to be followed by the Shinigami captain, especially one that he could clearly tell was hiding the same sort of bloodlust he shared with his kitten just under the surface of that mask of warmth and healing. Nevertheless, he stuck close to his mate, and even though he knew neither one of them would last long on their own, he was primed and ready to steal Ichigo back to Hueco Mundo at the first sign of trouble.
Emerging into Soul Society put him even further on edge. He'd never been there personally, but considering what most Shinigami thought about Hollows, he felt well within his rights to be… not nervous, just wary. Yeah. He wasn't scared, just alert for threats. The lashing of his tail was a warning sign that he was a hair's breadth away from losing his temper, not from running away. And he certainly did NOT jump when Ichigo put his hand on the feline's shoulder.
The orangette's snickering was cut short, however, with the appearance of the Onmitsukidou and their captain. Both half-Hollows tensed further, Ichigo's nerves transferring through his hand and his reiatsu, heavy and a touch angry. It drew a growl from deep within the already fidgety Sexta.
They were understandably surprised when Soi Fon bowed, her troops kneeling behind her. "Orders from Lady Yoruichi-sama. The Stealth Force are to ensure safe travel for the newly reinstated Shinigami-daikou, Kurosaki Ichigo and his companion to private quarters within the Shihoin family grounds for treatment and lodging for the duration of their stay in Soul Society."
She stood again, the ninja behind her following suit. The familiar touch of disdain was somehow reassuring, but there was none of the explicit hostility Ichigo had come to expect from the rigid captain of the Second.
"That will be gratefully appreciated, Soi Fon-san." Unohana commented with yet another smile.
A small nod of her head, and the waspish Shinigami turned to Ichigo himself. "Contrary to popular belief, Kurosaki, there are many Shinigami who are well aware of the importance of your part in the Winter War. We are quite glad you have returned in one piece."
As one, at some hidden signal, her subordinates scattered to secure the path from the Main Senkaimon to an outlying building decorated with the Shihoin family crest. At that time of night, there weren't many Shinigami about, but the few that were had been drawn by the opening of the main gate. So as the four of them walked every so often there would be a strangled cry of confusion to either side, indicating that someone had attempted to breech the invisible barrier the Onmitsukidou had decided was the safe zone around Seireitei's guests.
Halfway there Ichigo stumbled, Zangetsu—still in bankai—clattered to the ground as one of his hands flew to his chest and the other reached for Grimm. The feline was quick to support him, but his own reiatsu wasn't much better off, fading all the more rapidly for being in his Resurrection on top of the collar still about his neck. The orangette was fighting a cough, the spasm clear on the surface of his shoulders and in the way he gripped his lover's hand. All at once he released his hold on his bankai, unable to maintain the kind of tight control he needed to compress the meat cleaver into its daito form.
Seconds later Hanataro was there with some kind of device that looked like it would fit better into a science fiction show than the late Edo-era level of technology most of the Seireitei used. Vaguely Ichigo registered that Urahara must have had something to do with it an instant before it was stabbing into his neck. The soft hiss it gave off was entirely covered by his cry; his teeth clenched as reishi flooded his system forcibly.
"Sorry! I'm sorry!" The tiny medic fell over himself to apologize, his patient drawing measured breaths through the pain.
Grimmjow growled, "Oi!" He was restrained from hurting the Shinigami, but only because his mate was clinging to his arm. He still tried though, spitting and hissing like a wildcat, "What's in that thing?! What'd ya do ta Kitten!? Shinigami, ya better answer me! What the—AUGH!"
The Arrancar-cum-Visored's shout cut off when Unohana performed the same sort of procedure on him from behind, having used her Fourth Seat to disguise her movements. Both half-Hollows turned on her and almost growled before their eyes, at just about the same moment, rolled up into their heads and they crashed like ragdolls to the stone walkway below. A pair of stretchers, borne by Onmitsukidou members, appeared out of the shadows to gather the unconscious young men off the ground. Then they were whisked off down the street at top speed, as no one knew how long the sedatives would last.
"You know they're going to be quite upset when they wake, Retsu-chan."
A shadow separated itself from the wall and pushed its hat up with its folded fan, revealing an unabashed grin framed by dirty blond hair. Unohana smiled back sweetly.
"Patients often do not know what is best for them. I should think they shall be more upset with you once they discover that this was entirely your machinations at work, Kisuke-kun."
The shopkeeper feigned being hurt, his fan flipping open to hide his grin. "Mah, you wound me, Retsu-chan."
"All of this is well and good, but some of us have jobs to return to." Soi Fon cut across their banter with a scowl.
The captain of the Fourth at least had the decency to look slightly apologetic as she inclinded her head, "Yes, thank you, Soi Fon-san, without your surveillance I don't know that we would have been able to track Kurosaki-san and Jaegerjaques-san. If they have been settled into their new accommodations, then by all means, you and your team are free to go with my appreciation. Give Yoruichi-san my gratitude as well if you would."
The smile that sent her on her way caused a barely suppressed shudder to run through the stoic ninja captain before she disappeared into the night again.
From the lead medic's elbow, a nervous voice piped up, "Taicho, shall I take the first watch?"
"Yes, thank you, Hanataro-kun. Notify me as soon as they wake."
Sunlight, warm and soothing, drew Ichigo from his slumber with a gentle caress over his face, by which he of course meant that someone threw the curtains wide open, driving daylight into both half-Hollows' eyes. Flailing, hissing and growling followed as Grimmjow shoved his lover slightly to the side so he could hide his face in the orangette's shadow. Said ginger groaned at that and shielding his eyes dared to crack one so he could identify who was going to be on the receiving end of his very first getsuga tensho once he regained his strength.
The sight that greeted him, which he should have expected given the list of Shinigami brave enough to risk his temper that early in the morning, was that of a certain dark-haired midget, hands on her hips and a grin that made him fling his arm back over the rest of his face growling more loudly.
"Ugh… Rukia…"
"Imma kill her." Grimmjow mumbled, "Straight through the fuckin' gut. Fer good this time."
"Not if I get to her first."
"GOOD MORNING, ICHIGO!" She sang, unfazed by either of their death threats.
When the blanket disappeared the younger's dash into a seated position was all that stopped the elder from following it off the bed, murder in his eyes. He bared his teeth, sharpened by the continued presence of his Resurrection.
"Does the word 'sick' mean nothin' ta you, Shinigami?!"
Rukia closed her eyes and tilted her head condescendingly, "The Sotaicho will be here in an hour, you have until then to prepare for your debriefing. Do you not appreciate the warning?"
"I'm gonna appreciate the motherfuckin'…" The blue-haired cat trailed off in a string of curses Ichigo wasn't entirely sure were all in the same language as he rolled back into the pillows, tail lashing.
He was stuck in that form, unable to seal Pantera back into her sword. Both half-Hollows hoped that Unohana had an explanation because the way it was looking, he wasn't going to be able to do it on his own. It made everything more complicated; the blades on his arms and legs inflexible and required a certain amount of care to avoid slicing through things like sheets, pillows, his boyfriend…
It was just one more thing on his list of stupid shit that was never an issue before stupid Shinigami came along and, "opened the fuckin' window!"
Ichigo and Rukia jumped at the sound of his voice again. It made a smile tug at his lips. Apparently he'd dozed off without realizing it because his mate was dressed in fresh track pants with wet hair and had a thick slice of bread slathered with some kind of fruit paste halfway to his mouth. Between the orangette's stunned confusion and the Kuchiki midget's poorly-disguised agitation, Grimmjow actually did laugh.
He found the motivation to get out of bed thanks to that and it was just as he emerged from his own shower, intent on spraying Rukia with a shake of his dripping fur, when someone knocked on the bungalow's door.
Tension grew in the air as the brunette female ducked around the wall to the genkan. Ichigo looked to Grimmjow and the Arrancar-turned-Visored shrugged, rubbing at his mane of hair with a towel. He donned a simple yukata and flopped into a chair next to the Western-styled table.
"Whatever he wants, ya can handle it, Kitten."
"Not the point, Grimm, what if he's—"
Ichigo was cut off by Rukia's return and further by the three people who had accompanied her. Yamamoto, as imposing as ever, stood at the edge of the combined living/sleeping area flanked by Unohana and Urahara, but even the Geta-Boshi's reassuring smile did little to ease the orangette's nerves regarding his grandfather's appearance. Fully intimidated by the sotaicho, he did the only thing his instincts were telling him to do, and promptly sat on top of his boyfriend's lap, vaguely dizzy and somewhat nauseous.
Unohana made a small noise in the general's ear and his eyebrows rose in response. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight ever so slightly to the side. "Kurosaki Ichigo, I believe it is customary to invite one's guests to relieve themselves of standing upon first entering one's dwelling, is it not?"
"What? Oh! Yeah. Com-come in, have a seat? Uh. We've only just got coffee and toast, but uhh…" He floundered, and elbowed his other half in the solar plexus when he felt the blue feline snickering.
The apprehension decreased when, at Ichigo's invitation, both Unohana and Urahara stepped around the sotaicho to approach the pair at the other end of the table. Ichigo kept an eye on his grandfather while the captain of the Fourth opened his mouth, felt the sides of his neck, and ran a crystal over his chakras. He felt Urahara subjecting Grimmjow to the same examination and minutely relaxed because if Yamamoto was allowing the exiled captain to work freely with his primary healer then there was less of a chance that he was here to arrest them both or turn them over to the Twelfth for Mayuri's experiments.
As soon as both shinigami were finished with them, they turned to the general and nodded, though granted Kisuke's smile was warmer than Retsu's. Yamamoto returned the nod and took a seat across the table from the half-Hollows.
"Kurosaki. Jaegerjaques. It has come to my attention that there was an altercation in the ruins of Los Noches. Something regarding a collection of humans that had what appeared to be a hybrid of Quincy and Hollow powers. What can you tell me about it?" His tone was direct and non-accusatory, but carried the implication that were he to be displeased with the answer it would be a very, very, bad thing.
Ichigo looked at Grimm, and shrugged looking back at the general. "There was some guy there that looked a lot like Old Man Zangetsu and he was building an army. I'm sorry I don't have a lot of clear details, Shiro was in control at the time." He blanched, hoping that wouldn't come back to haunt him. "But they looked like they had plans to storm Soul Society, with these weird device things that one of them said was to steal people's bankai. He tried to use it on me, but it didn't work, probably because at the time I don't think I counted as Shinigami to their instruments. I, uh, I'd like to say I had more information, but, um, Shiro…"
"He fires first an' asks questions later." Grimmjow purred, filling in the pause when his mate grew uncomfortable.
The general nodded, "Hm. Go on."
"There isn't much else to tell I don't think." The orangette looked to each of the others, clearly nervous. "They attacked me, I fought back. Er, well, Shiro fought back. I just sort of let him do it."
"And were any left alive at the end of your altercation?" Yamamoto rumbled.
Ichigo hesitated, fighting the urge to squirm, and torn between embarrassed and angered by the implications. In the end, he growled, looking away. "No."
"I see." The elder nodded, folding his hands in front of him on the table. "Then we come to the most important question I have regarding this trouble."
The air in the room grew heavier still. Grimmjow wrapped his arms around his mate as if that would keep whatever the sotaicho was about to say from hurting him, and Ichigo let him, though internally he was daring the old man to declare him a monster, unfit for Shinigami company, and either cast them out into the sands of Hueco Mundo or lock them up for being criminals until they could figure out a way to konso them both back into being pluses. Rukia unconsciously leaned closer to the pair, her hands clasped only to keep her from wringing them. Urahara hid his face behind his fan in an effort to disguise what Ichigo was sure was a scowl building between his eyebrows. And Unohana very subtly bit her lip, a tiny shiver in her cheeks as the only disturbance in her mask of composure. Her patients' very lives were on the line.
Everyone leaned in when Yamamoto inhaled, "Are you alright?"
"WHAT?!" Grimmjow had to hold the youngest even tighter as he tried to jump out of his seat. "What the hell do you mean 'am I alright', old man!? You come in here, with your attitude and your secret forces—don't tell me they aren't outside I can sense them—and your interrogation and your whatever the hell those crystal things do, and then you have to nerve to ask if I'm alright?! What the Hell!"
The general blinked. "Did you think you were to be punished, Ichigo?"
The orangette's steam was cut short and he sagged some against his boyfriend, "Honestly? …yes."
"You may be an impulsive, reckless, hot-headed child, but you are equally incredibly powerful, and have proven to me personally on multiple occasions that being your ally is far more intelligent than being your adversary. You have fought for the Court of Pure Souls more times than you should ever have had to considering where you actually come from and your bloodline. Time and again you have stepped forward when all others would have turned away, sacrificing your humanity, your health, and your personal well-being to ensure that your friends were kept safe from harm and their injuries paid back to those who had dared harm them in the first place. This most recent threat was one even the Stealth Force was unaware of before your reiatsu appeared there. In short, my boy, Seireitei owes you a great debt. You and your Espada friend there." Yamamoto frowned slightly. "In fact, there seems to be some misunderstanding regarding my visit here."
A small chuckle came from the captain of the Fourth as she moved about the kitchen mixing herbs into a pot of boiling water. The sound drew Ichigo, Grimmjow and Rukia's attention, and Urahara tipped his hat up to reveal he was not scowling as Ichigo had previously thought, but smiling, and had been hiding it so as to maintain the atmosphere of secrecy. The Visored lashed out with his foot, intent on kicking the shopkeeper in the knee but the blond was more agile than that, laughing as he dodged the blow.
"B-but, Yamamoto-sotaicho," Rukia had to lean on the back of one of the unoccupied chairs to steady herself, "if you aren't here to debrief Ichigo about the Quincy then why are you here?!"
"I'll forgive your impertinence, Kuchiki-fukutaicho, provided that you hold your tongue." Business may not have been why he was there, but his tone brokered no disrespect from subordinates. He turned back to the half-Hollows, "I am here to pay my respects to my grandson. He did just die after all. Or has the Kuchiki house fallen into such disrepair that they no longer practice the tradition of greeting one's relatives upon mortal death?"
"G-grandson?!" She blurted before she could stop herself.
"Yeah." Having burned most of his energy in his previous outburst, Ichigo slumped back against Grimmjow tired but relaxed, his previous worry dismissed.
"Whatcha mean grandson, Kitten?"
The orangette looked up, "I told you in Hueco Mundo, that Quincy told me who my mom was, Kurosaki Masaki. She was a Quincy, and my dad took her last name when he married her."
"Then who was your dad before he was your dad?" Rukia frowned, confused even further by the apparent shared mirth between Kisuke and Retsu behind her.
"Kurosaki Isshin, before he retired from the Seireitei, was Shiba Isshin, Captain of the Tenth Division." Yamamoto rumbled. "The Shiba clan was once one of the four great noble houses. It lost its status when the clan leader seemingly abandoned his post for the living world twenty years ago."
"But, Yama-jii," Ichigo asked, "you're part of Clan Shiba too, couldn't you have stopped them from dishonoring us?"
The old man shook his head, as Unohana set out tea for everyone. "As sotaicho of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, I could not involve myself with familial matters. The Shiba council of elders would have heard the defense of my son, but the other three houses would not."
"Kuchiki would have sided with you, Sotaicho!" Rukia insisted, slamming her hands on the table.
Silence reigned as Yamamoto gave the young Shinigami a long look, effectively raising an eyebrow without actually doing so. She sat back down again, mollified, and sighed.
"You know as well as I that the Kuchiki clan elders are some of the most rigid in the whole of Soul Society. You have only just been recognized and allowed to wear the ornaments of your station and you have been a member of that house for nearly forty-two years. No, there was nothing we could have done, and even if the topic were brought up now, it would fall on Ichigo's head to lead the clan, which would be a disservice to both Ichigo and Kukaku."
Rukia looked to Ichigo and Grimmjow and the orangette shrugged, scratching an itch on the inside of his ear. "Ah, I wouldn't wanna be head of a clan anyway. It's bad enough having to be in charge of what dance I was gonna do each night for work."
"You idiot!"
The midget shinigami lashed out to smack him across the back of the head with a shout, but the feline's reflexes caught her hand before she landed the blow. Everyone in the room tensed. Grimmjow bared his teeth then tossed her wrist away with a sound of disgust, and Ichigo covered up his spike in fear by pushing at the arm curled tightly around his waist, affecting agitation. Similarly, Unohana adjusted her braid as cover-up for how she'd allowed her grip to drift close to Minazuki, and Yamamoto relaxed his knuckles from around the staff hiding Ryuujin Jakka. Rukia herself sat back down in her chair, stunned and slightly hurt by the Arrancar's over-reaction.
"Yare yare, what a temper you have there, Espada-san." Kisuke swung Benehime by her handle loosely.
"Grimmjow." The cat corrected absently.
The shopkeeper continued on as though he hadn't heard, "Speaking of that, Ichigo-san. You're missing an awful lot of hours being dead don't you think?"
The Visored's head snapped up, "What?"
"Well, I can't very well pay you if you aren't on my stage dancing, now can I?" Urahara grinned as the gears started to click in his student's head. "And you have broken your contract with Mr. Pink by dying. It means my club is out an awful lot of money due to your untimely demise. I'm afraid I may have to enact my right as an employer and replace you."
"You're Mr…"
"It took ya that long ta figure it out, Kitten?" Grimmjow snorted, relaxed again now that there was no immediate threat to his mate. "I knew ya were dense but that's just 'bout takes th' cake."
"Oi! I was preoccupied." Red flushed across the deathberry's cheeks and ears. "And I couldn't sense reiatsu at all back then."
"Ya never could sense worth a damn."
Rukia laughed and Ichigo flipped her off. Even Retsu covered a smile with her tea cup while Kisuke laughed alongside Grimmjow, loud and heartily. He was about to retort again when his grandfather banged his staff on the floor.
"I believe getting to the point would be a good idea, Urahara."
"Hai, you are correct as usual, Yama-jii-san." The blond swept off his hat in a mock bow which went unacknowledged, and turned to face the half-Hollows directly. "Put succinctly, it was always a plan of ours to jumpstart your powers again by re-severing your soul chain and effectively killing off your human body, Ichigo. The virus you contracted worked in our favor that way, but none of us anticipated it happening as quickly as it did." Kisuke paused as if he was expecting one of them to interrupt. When they didn't he waved his hand as if to dismiss the whole thing. "Regardless, your gigai is ready for you at my shop. Had things gone according to plan you'd have woken up in it without ever being the wiser, but seeing as certain aspects became impossible to control…well…I'll spare you the sordid details."
He giggled and waved his fan when Grimmjow growled, taking umbrage with being called either an 'uncontrollable aspect' or a 'sordid detail'.
Ichigo looked confused, "So, wait a minute. You're telling me I've been working for you this whole time? And everybody else knew about it?" He glanced at the others for confirmation. "How many people?"
"Hm?" Urahara's eyebrows went up.
"How many people knew?"
"Oh. I'd imagine all of them really. You've made a great deal of friends across the board, Ichigo. It was hard choosing which ones were going to play the parts of new faces to keep you in the dark."
"But why?" There was real anguish in his voice as he leaned on the table, in spite of his boyfriend trying to hold him back. "Why not just tell me?! I should've known! I could've—"
"Could have what, Ichigo?" Rukia asked quietly.
The orangette looked around at the people surrounding him again and shook his head, denying what they were implying. That he'd have flown off the handle; run away; been alienated and depressed every time they had to face down an enemy he could no longer even sense, let alone see or fight. The worst part was the Old Man rumbled in the back of his mind that they'd been right, and Shiro agreed, his king was too impulsive to have been trusted with the knowledge when he was powerless to help them. It boiled and made the skies of his inner world rumble with barely suppressed rage. Grimmjow tried to rub his back, but he shook him off with a harsh jerk of his shoulder.
Looking slightly hurt, the feline appealed to their common sense of the Now, "Kitten. What difference does it make? You needed to be protected."
The subject of their focus whipped around to glare at the other half-Hollow, "Were you in on this too?! Was all of… of this part of it?" He gestured between them.
Before the Arrancar could answer, Unohana placed a kido-infused hand on the Visored's shoulder. "Kurosaki-san."
A wash of cool, relaxing reiatsu washed down his spine from neck to tailbone, and he slumped, panting, having been unaware of the strain he was putting on his body. He felt it then, a dull ache held back only by the healer's touch. Leaning into his boyfriend's chest, he was only vaguely aware of the others speaking around him.
"We'll take him back to the living world, and help him settle into the gigai. A return to normalcy is what's best for now. Until we can determine exactly what it is that's going on with his reiatsu."
"Very good, keep me informed of how everything goes. I don't particularly enjoy having been kept in the dark alongside my grandson during your experiments, Urahara."
"Of course, Sotaicho-san."
"But, Urahara-san, What of…"
"He won't be a problem, I guarantee it."
"He better fuckin' not be."
"Shh, you'll wake him."
A/N: Annnnnd that's it! Part 2 is over! Happy GrimmIchi Day, minna! Hope you liked it, and I'll see you all in Part 3. Ja ne! ^_^