I.K. – 11/01 Sat. – 11:30 am

After Ichigo had driven everyone back to their respective homes, he'd managed to drag Renji up to his room with the help of a few of his dorm mates. He'd planned to return to his own room afterwards, maybe even muster up the energy to get up and take a shower, but Renji's roommate's bed had just looked much too tempting. Thankfully, he knew Ikkaku would not be coming back that night; he was off someplace with his own lover.

As far as he knew, Grimmjow hadn't come back that night. Or at least, Ichigo hadn't seen him. This gave him a lot of time to think.

And by time to think, he meant time to space out and think about thinking, but avoid the true objective at hand.

"Ugh, fuck…" When he heard a groan on the other side of the room, Ichigo sat up from his position on Ikkaku's bed. Renji was holding his head, his face scrunched up because of the sparks of pain trying to get up incited.

"Awake now, are we?" Ichigo asked with a smirk, propping himself up by the elbows. "How's your head?"

"Fucking hurts. What happened?"

"You passed out back in the party. I have some Tylenol back in my room, but that's it. Want some?"

The redhead squinted at Ichigo for a moment before scowling in confusion. "Um, are we in my room?" On second thought, he added, "Where's Ikkaku?"

"Yeah, we're in your room. And remember, he spent the night at his lover's place. At least, that's what he told me."

"Oh. Right. Can I have some of that Tylenol?"

Ichigo hummed his consent. "Just a sec," he said before getting off bed, stretching as he walked out of the room.

He felt stiff because he'd fallen asleep in his vampire costume; he'd managed to kick off his boots, though, so at least his feet weren't hurting. Fishing out the key to his own room, Ichigo entered, finding it in the exact way it had been in the night before. Stepping over clothes, shoes, underwear, wires, and stray papers, Ichigo was able to reach his desk drawer with not too much difficulty. It was quite amazing how two boys could make such a small room so chaotically messy in just two months. Opening it, he found a whole lot of papers, a book, an empty pack of jellies, and – yes! – Tylenol. Ichigo grabbed both the jelly wrapper and the little bottle of pills, dropping the former into the trashcan before leaving the room with the latter.

"Ah, yes, thank you. Finally. You took forever."

Ichigo rolled his eyes and laughed at Renji's comment. The redhead was sitting up on his bed, head still in his hands and elbows supported by his knees. Ichigo wasn't sure about all the details for giving out medicine like this – he just had to assume it didn't really matter whether the bottle had been prescribed to him or to somebody else.

He popped the bottle open and tapped two tablets onto his palm, handed them to Renji, and then took two for himself since he felt a headache coming on.

"Aggghhhhhh," Renji groaned loudly as he flopped back onto his bed. "Ichigo, I think I'm gonna sleep this one off. I wanna puke too."

"Then puke," Ichigo replied lightly, slightly more than a little amused by his friend's agony.

"Shut up. Goodbye." The redhead let out one last moan and turned over to face the wall, one hand enveloping his stomach and the other wedged between his cheek and his pillow. Ichigo snorted and peeked over Renji's shoulder – just to check; his eyes were shut. "I'm gonna sleep," he murmured.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," Ichigo said with a shrug and picked up his bottle of Tylenol. Before stepping out of the room, he glanced back toward Renji one last time. "Oh, do you want me to wake you up sometime? That is, if I'm near at that point of the day and I remember to do it."

"Uh, yeah, like, next week." Ichigo laughed. "Three, then."

"Um… Oh, no can do. I have work today from three to six 'cause I'm making up for last night. I'll swing by at two-thirty-ish. Sound good?"

"Uh-huh." Ichigo could tell Renji was already dozing off, so he grinned and stepped out, ready to shut the door quietly when his red-haired friend called out, "Oh, and Ichigo?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Ichigo grinned. "No prob."

III

"Is Getsu-nii not coming back for us?" Ichigo – barely nine – asked his older brother. Twelve-year-old Takeshi bit his lip, mind reeling with possible answers.

Presently, they were curled up in their favorite little corner of Moretski's Home For Boys – the wide ledge to the largest window of the entire brick building. Located beside the staircase leading to the roof, nobody really came by, hence it was always quiet around there. It was pouring outside, so there wasn't much of a view, but Ichigo enjoyed both the sound and sight of pelting rain, thus there they were. Since it was cold, the smaller boy sat with his back against Takeshi's chest, his older brother's arms encasing his chilled body.

"No. He's coming back," Takeshi said firmly in response to Ichigo's question. The orange head turned to stare at his brother's pale white features.

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

Ichigo didn't argue. They were quiet except for the occasional sniffle, the only other noises produced by the crashing raindrops outside and the din of other children's voices on varying floors.

The two were surely an odd pair. Ichigo was a little bit slower than most other boys his age both physically and mentally. Or at least, that was what a lot of the others thought. He never really spoke much, meaning no ill words came from his mouth, but he also never seemed to smile. Most of the time, he just sat still with his chocolate brown eyes open wide, pupils darting from one side to the other as he observed his surroundings. Takeshi was the complete opposite. He was loud and funny when he wanted to be, confident, witty, and indifferent to what others thought of him. At times, perhaps a little too indifferent. He was scowling all the time, which drove people away from him – unless he was with his younger brother Ichigo. Wherever Takeshi went, Ichigo followed, and vice versa. Whenever Ichigo was bullied, Takeshi was there to beat the shit out of whoever dared to pick on his brother. They were inseparable.

Some theorized that Takeshi's obsession – or brother complex – was what hindered Ichigo's growth. The ultimate protection provided the idea that it would be that way forever, and thus Ichigo had no need to grow up or become any stronger. Adults had tried to test it out once, probably less than a year ago. They split the two up, sending Ichigo to another orphanage nearby. The first day there, the adults saw Ichigo cry for the first time since he'd arrived at the previous home. They thought this to be a good thing – a development in Ichigo's behavior as a normal child. After that, however, the boy shut himself off. He was completely silent, when before, he would at least utter a few words at a time to deliver his thoughts. He refused to eat, refused to play with the other children, and refused to speak up as to what exactly he wanted. Back at Moretski's, Takeshi was going insane, demanding to see Ichigo, threatening and using violence on whoever came across his path. Eventually, they had to be put back together.

It hadn't always been that way, though. When Mugetsu had been there, he'd been the oldest ward. He was someone to depend on, especially for Takeshi and Ichigo. He was very well liked, and even had something going on with the owner's daughter. When he turned eighteen, however, he left, leaving behind only a promise to come back for his younger brothers. Things were never the same afterwards.

As for their parents, they were long gone. There was absolutely no hope they would return since they were both dead. Their mother had been murdered in a car accident – near instant death due to neck and spine injury. Their father had committed suicide not long after – a fall from the rooftop of a ten-story building. The children had been admitted to the orphanage almost immediately afterwards; Takeshi had been three, Mugetsu ten, and Ichigo barely three months old. Of course, Ichigo remembered absolutely nothing about his parents, and Takeshi's memories were quite faulty as well. Mugetsu, however, being the oldest, knew and remembered most from the ten years he'd spent with them. The two younger boys were aware of the fact that their parents' deaths would have affected Mugetsu the most, but they never spoke of it.

Already gone for so long – that Mugetsu.

"I miss him," Ichigo mumbled, his eyes droopy. It was cold.

"Me too," Takeshi replied in a low voice, tightening the embrace he had around Ichigo. The older boy was going through puberty, Ichigo had noticed, and his voice was becoming deeper by day. It was slightly unnerving at times – how Takeshi grew up so quickly, but he supposed the same went for himself (even though some people seemed to think otherwise). Children grow quickly.

"He's gonna come back." Ichigo leaned into Takeshi's body, resting the back of his head against the crook between his brother's neck and shoulder.

"Yeah, he is." They were silent for a while, and Ichigo had almost fallen asleep before Mrs. Moretski, the owner's wife, found them at last.

The kindly woman scolded them lightly for trying to sleep in such a cold spot and for skipping their lunches, but it was nothing serious. She proceeded to take them back to their own rooms, but not before trying to get them to socialize a little bit. The other children tried to be nice to them, and Ichigo appreciated that, but neither he nor his brother felt like dealing with others at the moment.

The pair crawled into bed, and fell asleep under the same blanket.


G.J. – 11/01 Sat. – 1:29 pm

"Grimmjow-kun, you're currently thinking of possible ways to escape this situation; aren't I right?" Kuna inquired, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes narrowed. Kuna could be extremely sharp when she was actually being serious – not to mention scary as hell when she wanted to be.

In that brief moment after her question, Grimmjow had to wonder whether he should fake it and say no, or be honest and say yes. But it was too late for that now. He'd hesitated several seconds too long. He stuck with "umm," his eyes flicking this way and that. Was there any way out of this?

"Don't even try it," Kuna snapped as if reading his every thought. Startled, his eyes darted back to settle on her once more. "Ken-chan left with Yachi already. Daycare, playground, I don't know, but they'll be back soon. So we've got to be quick about things."

"Oh – er – okay."

"Now tell me what's bothering you." This woman was always like this. She could tell when something was wrong, but she also never failed to see to it that it was solved. She didn't care whether she was being annoying or not – she just had to butt in and see what happened.

"Nothing, really."

"Mm-hmm, and I'm the fucking queen of England. Spill, already."

"All right, fine. I'm failing one of my classes, and it's only the beginning of the year."

"Which class?"

"Um." Oh, shit, he hesitated. "Chemistry."

"I don't believe that for a second."

Goddamn, either this woman truly was one of the sharpest pencils around when it came to such matters, or she was simply an extremely suspicious person to the point of being annoying.

"Well, why not?"

"I've known you for a long time. You're a smart kid, but you never really gave a shit about your grades – except that time you wanted to get into college."

Fuck. "Well, now I care, okay?"

Kuna was quiet then, and the blue-haired man could practically feel that intent gaze of hers trained solely on him.

"It's complicated," Grimmjow muttered, his eyes cast down, elbows on knees as he hunched over his legs.

There was a longer pause, and Kuna finally said, "Love." Grimmjow's head snapped up in surprise. "Love is complicated, isn't it?"

"What the…"

"Who is it? That frilly girl from before with the mounds of makeup? What was her name – Celery?" When Grimmjow shook his head and muttered, "Cirucci," Kuna stared for a moment or two before loudly exhaling through her nose and straightening her back. "Well, I won't dig that deep, I suppose. But I can tell that something's happened between you and this mystery person, and since you didn't have someone the last time I saw you, it's probably not about a break-up. I'm assuming it's a confession… am I right?"

"Holy shit…"

"I'll take that as a yes. Then let me tell you this. Find whoever this is. Find this person, Grimmjow-kun, and no matter who confessed first, tell this person how you really feel, all right? It's so much better that way. No stupid misunderstandings, right?"

"It's a lot easier said than done." Grimmjow's fingers snaked through his hair, which he had not been able to gel up that morning.

"I know that. But you're running away, aren't you? Grimmjow-kun never runs away – or at least, that's what I'd thought up to this point."

"Well, I'm fucking human, all right? I'm not some superman; I get scared!" Grimmjow practically growled. Kuna didn't even flinch.

"You gotta face your fears; otherwise, they'll be chasing after you for who knows how fucking long. Fears exist so that you can beat 'em, grow stronger!" Kuna exclaimed dramatically, then paused and raised her head from where she was staring at the carpeted floor. "I remember a certain someone telling me that before. Who was it again?"

It's me. "Fuck you, Kuna."

The pinkette laughed as Grimmjow glowered, but when she calmed down they were both smiling – although Kuna was wearing the wider grin, and Grimmjow sporting a smaller, perhaps even shy, smile.

Kuna opened her mouth. "Look, Grimmjow-kun, I think you should give it up already. Go talk to that person. Stop running, yeah? I'm sure the opponent's just as confused as you are. I know I was when Ken-chan suddenly confessed to me that time… remember?"

Grimmjow hummed and nodded in reply. Oh, he remembered, all right.

"A'ight, fuck it… And you should be a lawyer," Grimmjow told Kuna as he shot up from his seat on the couch and yanked on the jacket he'd brought the previous night.

She laughed aloud. "I have thought about it, actually."

"You'd make a good one."

"Thanks."

He gathered his things, bunching them all up in his arms. With a quick scan of the room just to see if he'd forgotten anything, Grimmjow stood right in front of the door before making his exit.

"Do you want a ride back?"

"Nah, I think I'm good."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah."

Grabbing the corner, he swung elegantly out of the room – but turned back one last time before leaving completely. He peeked back into the room.

"Oh, and Kuna?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Thanks."

Kuna smiled widely, her eyes practically sparkling with glee. She made Grimmjow promise he'd visit again later on to tell her about the results – whether good or bad – before letting the boy go.

On the way out, he caught a glimpse of a returning Kenpachi, who had one hand carrying a plastic bag and the other holding Yachiru up on his shoulders as she gobbled up a cup of ice cream. Because Grimmjow was sprinting, however, neither father nor daughter could get a word in before the blue-haired man zoomed past them.

Five minutes of nonstop running and he was nearly there. The journey back to the dorm was surprisingly short – perhaps it just seemed longer last night because of how out of it he'd been.

Suddenly, he slowed to halt. One word echoed in his mind: shit.

He'd run over without a second thought, but what was he to do once he saw Ichigo? The closer he got to the dormitory, the realer it became that this was where he was supposedly going to get some answers.

"Holy shit, wait." Grimmjow was muttering curses to himself before he knew it, frantically looking around for ideas.

There was a tree just a little ways outside Clarken. Grimmjow walked the few steps he had remaining to get to it, and leaned on the trunk and closed his eyes.

"Fuck. Okay." He breathed. There was no one around – within hearing range, anyway – and saying whatever was currently swarming his mind would be more helpful than trying to organize it all in silence.

What to do? What to say? How to act? How to speak?

Hi, Ichigo, how ya doin'? Wanna continue that conversation we had last night, back there in that alley where I kinda got bitch-slapped by Cirucci? And then I avoided seeing you for the entire rest of the night and the next morning? My point, though, whad'ya say? Wanna try dating me?

Grimmjow laughed weakly, his stomach feeling worse by the second. There was something seriously wrong with his chest; he was sure of it. He wasn't acting like himself either, and it really sucked. C'mon, Grimmjow, get it together.

"Ichigo, look," he began, calmly this time. His voice was quiet; it was a little strange trying to talk to an imaginary person when nobody was around. "I'm real sorry 'bout what happened yesterday. I don't really know what I was thinking… but, um… they weren't lies. What I told you. Most of it, anyway. Or at least, what I can remember from the conversation. It wasn't some sick joke." His arms were numb by the time, having been holding his things as tight as he possibly could since the moment he stepped out of the Zaraki apartment. "The thing, though, is that it's real weird because you're the first one I've ever felt this way toward… and it's confusing. I'm confused. I'm assuming you are too because I'm not really making much sense."

Hey, talking to thin air was easy once you got the hang of it – except the part about being unable to accept the fact that he sounded so corny.

He breathed deeply. Cut to the chase. "I like you, Ichigo." He paused for a moment, then shook his head violently. Naw, naw, that's too straightforward. "As… as I've mentioned last night, you're the person I'm in love with." What was he, some dude in a teenybopper romance film?

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. His soul nearly jumped out of his throat. He whipped around.

Good Lord.


I just kinda realized the title has NOTHING to do with the story itself...

I mean, it was supposed to be relevant... buuuut I changed my mind?

Hahahhahaha I don't know

Thanks for readinggg

Review?

Beta'd by Patd06

I love you!

[ Jou ]